It's only seventeen minutes on the train from Doncaster to Thorne if it stops at all the intermediate stations, or only twelve minutes if it's one of the rare direct services. However, it takes me twenty minutes to walk to the railway station so overall it's not much quicker than catching one of the buses which comes up my end of town...but the first bus on a Sunday doesn't leave until after I'd already arrived in Thorne on the train.
There are two railway stations at Thorne, Thorne North and Thorne South, serving two different lines - yet neither of them being close to the town centre. The first two trains on a Sunday morning from Doncaster arrive at Thorne North on the Hull line...the other line goes to Cleethorpes.
I didn't walk into the town centre; I just found [at the second attempt] the footpath I needed which goes through a housing estate and then becomes a rough track. I then reached an area of scrubland which was overgrown with thick brambles in places and randomly placed rather sad looking scruffy long haired horses were chained to spikes that had been hammered into the ground. Where there weren't any horses there were heaps of hundreds of empty Foster's Lager cans...plus other empty cans and bottles as well.
The path took me over a pedestrians only crossing where there were half a dozen recently placed bouquets or floral displays; the flowers seemed quite fresh so I'm assuming someone might have died there recently...or more likely the anniversary of someone dying there had just passed.
I reached the service road for The Range Distribution Centre and then took the road that crosses over the motorway. According to the Ordnance Survey map, or at least what I could see on the sheet there should have been a couple of paths passing under or over the motorway but I couldn't find either of them, and I doubt they even exist any more. Walking along this road added about a mile to the route; there was a greater variety of discarded lager cans thrown at the side of the road - there were still plenty of Foster's though.
I crossed over the River Don using a designated weak bridge which looked quite dilapidated.
I had a choice of routes to Fishlake but chose the signposted byway; it's a very pleasant route and there are plenty of rabbits - a couple of them scurried away just a couple of yards in front of me. My friend from Leeds phoned up to arrange our meeting in the city next weekend as I was trying to stay out of the worst of the mud along here.
The church at Fishlake is left unlocked and so I went inside after I'd eaten my sandwiches.
The walk to the next village, Kirk Bramwith, took me along farm tracks, footpaths across fields, and along country roads. En route I came across what must be the strangest roadside shrine I've ever seen, featuring a transparent plastic teacup and a shabby anorexic doll.
It was the second day of the snowdrops festival at Kirk Bramwith Church; I went inside and bought a cup of tea...the ladies had sold out of cake though.
The final couple of miles was a walk along the levee, with the River Don to my left and the Stainforth and Keadby Canal to my right.
The bus stop at Stainforth is right next to the church, which is a twentieth century building I think. I only had ten minutes to wait, long enough to take a quick photograph of the church tower though.
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