agoraphobia, depression, anxiety, chronic fatigue, cycling,

A weekend at Morecambe Bay

This is a photo diary of my cycling weekend around Morecambe Bay – my first ever trip with my electric bike. You might not think it looks very adventurous, but if you bear in mind that I’ve been  agoraphobic all my adult life, and that I suffer from chronic fatigue, it might start to look a bit more significant!

Bike secured on the ferry

Bike secured on the ferry.

After a smooth four-hour crossing to Heysham, I pushed the bike down the ramp off the boat, and set off into unknown territory.

Such a beatififul view across the Bay.

Such beatiful views across the Bay.

Quite by accident, I discovered that I could cycle through Morecambe on the traffic-free promenade, which was glorious. This took me almost all the way to Hest Bank, where I was made very welcome.

My comfortable room at The Gateway, Hest Bank.

My comfortable room at The Gateway, Hest Bank.

Next morning, despite a migraine, I set off towards Carnforth on the cycle path.

The cycle track to Carnforth.

The cycle track to Carnforth.

Exploring the charity shops helped to distract me from my anxiety about finding the way back to the guest house.

Lunch in the Brief Encounters cafe at Carnforth Station.

Lunch in the famous Brief Encounters cafe at Carnforth Station.

In the afternoon, I explored some of the many cycle trails that criss-cross the whole area, going as far as I dared, then returning to a familiar point before trying a new one.

Lonely, flooded countryside.

Lonely, flooded countryside.

Not wanting to push myself too hard, I eventually headed back to Hest Bank, where I had tea, whilst looking out across the bay.

I was made welcome everywhere I went.

I was made very welcome everywhere I went.

On the last day, I slowly made my way back along the promenade to the ferry port, stopping frequently to admire the view and the quality of the light.

So beautiful.

So beautiful.

I made it back to the ferry-port with plenty of time to spare.

Re-finding the port wasn't as hard as I had feared.

Re-finding the port wasn’t as hard as I had feared.

The crossing was so smooth that I fell asleep.

17 miles away from home.

17 miles away from home.

So, after the best weekend of my life, I arrived home safely, already promising myself that I would soon go back to continue exploring the beautiful area around Morecambe Bay.

 

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8 thoughts on “A weekend at Morecambe Bay

    • Thank you so much, Paul. I guess we both share that need to get out into the countryside! NB I’m hoping to post your book next Tuesday when the Post Office opens again. Sorry it’s taking me so long. All best wishes from Ruth XXX

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Rosemarie Teare says:

    Well done! You are living adventurously, as we all should do. And a Happy Easter to you and John.
    In friendship,
    Rosemarie and Eric

    Like

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