Leg VI –Newcastle-upon-Tyne to Vindobala – Wednesday 24 April 2013

The 09.06 train from Darlington gives a smooth run to Newcastle, enabling us to be on the Quayside before 10 o’clock and set off westwards into a stiff breeze. The jumble of bridges is soon left behind as we stride along the concrete towpath where shiny new developments stare across at the derelict but still impressive Dunston Coal Staiths.

As the towpath ends the route goes up onto the A695 and then up above the road onto an enclosed strip of tarmac through grass verges and scrub, similar to that to the east of the city but here the graffiti on the walls is of higher quality. Somehow we get thrown off course at the A1 roundabout and follow the river instead of cutting inland through Denton Dene. Wandering into Newburn Riverside, aka nowhere, as we realise our mistake, consult the map and retrace our steps to regain the urban pathway at Lemington.

Having wasted 40 minutes and done an extra mile we ignore the invitation for tea / coffee in the Lemington Community Centre, and then at Newburn we resist a tempting bench under a lovely flowering cherry (mainly as it appeared to belong to some sheltered accommodation and although we could pass for OAP residents we did not wish to impose). Wavering we press on a few steps to find an unexpected but most welcome sight.

Nestled on the riverbank in the shadow of the single track Newburn Bridge is The Boathouse pub. Unpretentious, it provides two good beers to wash down our packed lunches while we sit on the bench outside and contemplate progress. Six miles done in two and half hours, but more importantly Newcastle’s westward sprawl seems to finish here, and with it the tarmac path, which becomes gravel and then just packed earth.

The open space that is Tyne Riverside Country Park is soon left behind and after a couple of miles of pleasant riverbank we find ourselves below Heddon-on-the-Wall. To get there we cross the line of the historic Wylam Waggonway (along which William Hedley’s Puffing Billy locomotive hauled coal waggons a year before George Stephenson built his prototype). Stephenson’s cottage is just along the way but we head inland, skirting a golf course and then climbing steeply up the narrow lane, gaining 100m in height in just over a winding mile, to the village. From up here the views across the Tyne are grand and probably reflect in the value of the imposing residences we haul ourselves past.

At Heddon is the Dingle Dell Café which provides tea and cake in stifling heat that threatens to induce a soporific coma; so it’s 3 o’clock before we drag ourselves out and set off on the final leg of the day. But not before we visit the village’s eponymous masonry, the first this side of Newcastle, where Pete photographs Alan-on-the-wall at Heddon-on-the-Wall!

Despite its small size Heddon proves tricky to get out of, but a quarter of an hour later we take our first steps along the dreaded Military Road. As feared, it’s concrete underfoot for a while, but after about a mile we are signed first onto a verge pathway and then into the adjacent fields, where we remain up to the site of Vindobala Fort.

Beyond there, the mercifully dry field paths take us to High Seat where we encounter our first sheep related incident of the walk. Four lambs have got out of their field and are on our path; as we walk along it they recede and it is apparent we are driving them towards an un-gated exit onto the road. By ducking through a hawthorn hedge into an arable field we are able to outflank them and re-emerge, only slightly scratched, onto the path ahead of them, causing a volte-face and retreat whence they came. Hopefully their mothers will look, well, sheepish, when they realise their lack of maternal care.

We ourselves emerge from the path onto the minor road and head south, over the A69 to the bus stop at Holeyn Hall crossroads on the B6528. Timing has worked out well and we have just a half hour wait before we can flag down the number 685 Arriva bus. Fifteen minutes and £8.20 later we are disgorged at Corbridge and after a nervous circuit of the town we find the Wheatsheaf Hotel where we are welcomed and shown to our rather spacious, well-appointed twin room.

The evening meals (ham salad for Pete and lasagne for Alan) are tasty and filling, and the beer is fine. Afterwards we take a stroll round the town calling in at the Golden Lion for an alternative, but slightly inferior pint, before returning to our room. It has been a long day, 13½ miles carrying a full pack and including probably the most severe climb of the trip up to Heddon, so dozing off to the background of televised snooker can be understood if not forgiven.