Breakfast
is excellent – fruit juice, cereal, pick & mix full English, toast,
preserves and tea. Given the rain falling as forecast it could be the highlight
of the day. With little civilisation en route a precautionary supply of pork
pies, crisps and drinks are purchased from the local Spar.
Waterproofed
up, waiting outside the Howard Arms for Brampton Taxis to arrive, the locals
give us sympathetic looks from beneath their umbrellas. We are reassured by one
that there is no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing.
On
emerging from the taxi at Walton our best attempt at appropriate clothing
becomes evident – Pete’s black drummer’s cloak turns him into a cross between the
grim reaper and a wandering Jew. Alan has the little more traditional Sir
Rannulph Fiennes “south pole here I come” look. However within minutes the
skies lighten and precipitation becomes no more than spitty spotty, which in
the absence of any wind is actually quite refreshing.
The
road to Dovecote Bridge, then field paths to Burtholme Beck are covered within
an hour, leading to the ascent of Craggle Hill. A nice steady climb up the
grassy slope, we resist the tempting offer of early refreshments at Haytongate
and press on up to the top. The slope down (Hare Hill) provides the first bit
of wall to examine (albeit reconstructed), then it’s another climb up to Banks.
The
patchy rain has stopped here, so we do as well for 10 minutes enjoying the view
from the village green and munching a biscuit or two.
Up
from Banks are real bits of wall to walk besides, with the remains of a
milecastle and two turrets providing points of interest and photo
opportunities. As the path then swings off to go through woodland we pause to
exchange catering intelligence with a three ladies heading west; Birdoswald is
highly recommended to us, but it’s a good hour away.
Emerging
from the wood the route is south of the line of the wall through fields now
soggy in more persistent rain, over stiles sat in muddy puddles. After a couple
of miles we descend to a fine bit of wall, worthy of a photo, but this leads to
the disastrous discovery that the camera is missing. The only explanation is
that it has jumped ship while Pete scaled one of the precipitous stiles and is
sinking into the ooze somewhere to the west.
Birdoswald
fort, and more importantly the visitor centre café, allows us to dry off, rest
up, take on tea & cake, bemoan the loss of the photographic record, and
then move on in positive frame of mind. To encourage us the rain has relented
and we can get the hoods down and our heads up.
From
Birdoswald the path tumbles down to the river Irthing, one of the three river
crossings for the wall. The current footbridge and the remains of the original
Roman bridge provide points of interest, as do substantial sections of wall and
the remains of milecastle 48 at Gilsand. A sight of equal wonder on climbing
out of the village is an impressively proportioned but semi-derelict mansion
which, despite evidence of occupation, displays a perforated roof out of which
a tree is growing.
After
a short stop to consume the remnants of the Spar supplies we press on across more
splodgy fields and mountainous stiles that eventually deposit us on the road
between Longbyre and Greenhead. At 4.30 in the afternoon it’s been nearly 7
hours walking (and resting) to cover 10 miles in conditions worse than ideal
but better than feared; uncomfortable really only due to the waterproofs
keeping out the rain at the expense of generating substantial internal
condensation. The grey skies and brooding clouds provided an atmospheric and
not untypical backdrop to the hillside and moorland views.
Tonight
we stay at the Four Wynds Guest House at Longbyre, run by Nigel Jarvis. The room
is the (not very) large twin with (the smallest ever) en-suite; but it is
comfortable with thoughtful touches like a flask of real milk to go with the
tea making facilities, of which we immediately avail ourselves.
Nigel
hospitably runs us down to the Greenhead Hotel for a fine evening meal and
several pints of John Smiths Smooth and Corby Ale. He also provides an on
demand return lift, and back at the guest house, interesting local knowledge
including the story behind the derelict Roman Way House.
Sleep
beckons; tired, only slightly drunk, and anticipating a fine day tomorrow, we
follow without hesitation.
No comments:
Post a Comment