Hadrian’s Wall: On Reflection

On reflection

I thought at the end of the adventure I would be miserable and dead tired, but really it’s the opposite. I am certainly tired, but no more than I have been each night. Indeed I feel as if I could perfectly well continue. When I was at South Shields I imagined myself heading off in the next part of the adventure down the eastern coast; make it symmetrical! The weather has turned so lovely and I feel there is much more to be seen.

Not that it has been easy though; Morning blister checking sessions and sore feet that throb through the night - I lie in my bag wondering when the pain will stop and the answer is about the time I get up in the morning to do it all again.

The tent has been good and bad in different ways. Every time I get in or out of it involves at the least getting a damp coating, and I was very fortunate that I never had the circumstances where I would have had no shelter but to cook in the rain and come into my tiny space soaking without space to change. Also it was very cold in there- the mesh providing not the slightest insulation. But equally I became quite fond of it; i enjoyed the security it gave me: looking out from the window of the Robin Hood Inn it’s green fabric was near merged with the hedges. The pole breaking was a problem, and if it had happened a day earlier I’d have been stuffed as I used all my tape on the one night, but I thought my solution worked well and was pleased with myself.

There have been other things were disaster turned into a fond feature: Peeling apart my guide book pages for the day and trying to decipher the parts that hadn’t been destroyed when it fell in the marsh added some interest to the morning. My lack of pen - which i’d noticed on the train in the way out repeatedly came up as an issue but I enjoyed my solutions such as careful tearing of the map to note places and writing with the very hard to write with red crayon.

Walking alone wasn’t bad like I’d feared, in fact I really enjoyed the tranquility of space for my thoughts, and the freedom to walk my own pace and take breaks as I wanted. although i enjoyed having some great conversations with other walkers i was often soon happy to leave them behind or let them on ahead. Even on the awefulness of the day two and thee I did not find lack of company an issue - although in the reed beds the fear that no one would find me was quite another matter. Surprisingly, I actually found the middle section had too many people for my liking- too many good mornings makes it ingenuine. A nice balance of plenty of time to ones own but with good chats interspersed sparingly - and knowing someone would be around in case of emergancy - seemed the most enjoyable.

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I do feel a bit as if really I cheated it, yes I carried all the kit, but I never really did get down to proper tough camping; I had a shower every night (thankfully- I stank!), I only once actually cooked both night and morning on my stove, and I had time in between my camping nights to get stuff dry. Also I of course took taxis and didn’t actually go to the end, but I don’t feel bad at all about that feature; it just felt so appropriate, and really I am so greatfull for taking the decision to take those taxis at those times; I couldn’t imagine how miserable walking Abbeytown to Newton Arlosh would have been, I couldn’t mentally have made it. I don’t think I could physically have made it from Carlisle.

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I felt I explored two very different regions (+Newcastle); the west one harsh and isolated, with local communities and long heritage, exposed to the elements and toughened by the sea wind, the people very generous and very kind. The other was soft and visitor friendly, with consideration of needs, maintained paths and plentiful facilities; a beautiful rural countryside. yet though I would certainly not recommend walking in the first I was more fond of it. I think the overexposure of tourists to the middle and eastern parts made people less interested in you, which is of course inevitably and no fault but means I don’t have quite the same memories of people and their generous friendliness from the second part- whilst I smile at memories of All the ‘Morning love’ and ‘pet’ I got in the west.

As the Kenyan guy in Robin Hood inn Breakfast said, it was the people that made the walk special.

There was the Roman Wall lodges guy giving me sweets to set off with, and worrying about the road ‘as a father figure’, as well as his tips for Carlisle.

Then there was Pauline the Angel from Newton Arlosh; she washed my clothes, sorted my tent, put a fluffy blanket on my bed, gave me farm eggs, tomatoes, crisps; her lovely chats and friendliness; how DofE 50 years ago showed her the possibilities of life and led her to be a nurse, growing up on the farm in such an isolated area, converting the cow shed to a bunk house ‘doing it properly’; all the conditioners and shampoos.

From the very start there was The lovely, very local, family at Curzon B&B and there great natter about the weather.

Then yhe lady who came over to my tent at the caravan park in Silloth, saying if I needed any help or it was pouring with rain I could come knock ‘loudly’ on her caravan and introducing me to all the other caravaners

There were the friendly chats with taxi drivers.

And The people who set up honesty cafes and shelters on the Trail.

Also the walkers I met- (even if I tried to avoid remeeting some of them!); Tess from California, and the Austrian couple I bumpt into over and over and over (slack house, walking, Robin Hood, and many more), the lovely Dutch girls in the youth hostel, the two men I met on my first morning on the trail proper, the guy who camped with me at Roman wall lodges, the guys wild camping I met at the youth hostel, the Kenyan guy who walked crazy distances, the older couple from Durham who taught me about Roman features in the crags.

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Also important were the churches, perhaps a feature of lands so common they’re overlooked, but my experience of the calm and sanctuary of my visits to churches will stay with me. Of course of greatest significance is Abbeytown Church which sheltered me on the most aweful of days- and I hope they found my letter of thanks. But the two cathedrals have also been a really important part of the journey, and their different beauties will live with me.

The Roman wall itself, of course the name and reason for the paths route has been an interesting part of the trip. I must admit though it wasn’t so much to me as I am sure it is to others- all the Roman forts on the way, housteds or Chesters say, did seem (sorry!) a bit like just some more rock piles, so I saw no reason to pay to visit- the walk itself offered enough Milecastle and turrets (literally three every mile!) to satisfy my wall needs. The most memorable experiences of the Roman history are in fact the very start and very end; reaching the lovely museum in Maryport was an adventure in itself and it offered me a remarkable start to the trip, and I was really impressed by Arabia at the very end. Saying that, reaching the wall on the day after bleatarn was really special, as it revealed itself in greater and greater forms. and most importantly the views of the wall marching the ridge will of course remain spectacular and a glorious feature to make the stunning landscape even more magical in memories eye.

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All these experiences shaped the trip and made it what it will be in my memory; though any mention of reeds will bring back feelings of terror and I will stay off marshes for a while - and probably stay off all walks that aren’t commonly walked ‘ways’! Yet overall carrying myself and all my needs across the countries width gives me quite a sense of achievement, and most of all appreciation for all the special things I have seen, the special people I have met, and the little things that have given me remarkable memories.

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Me with the statue in Maryport

Me half way along the wall

Me with the statue At South Shields

More thoughts:

- it is strange how at the end of gold DofE I was so shattered I could barely even lift a fork for dinner, yet after walking much longer and for longer I really don't feel particularly more exhausted than would be normal. Has my stamina really improved over the last year? Or was it that many days were of less distance and so provided recovery time?

-I now need to really read up on the geology and geography of the place so I can talk about it

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