Category: Hadrians wall

Hadrian’s Wall – Day 6 – 8

On By CherylIn Hadrians wallLeave a comment

Day 6 – 11ish miles

It actually got cool overnight and for the first time this whole trip I actually used the blanket! After a quick brekkie and picking up our packed lunches for the day, we headed out onto the literal road. The path meandered by a busy road way. There were occasional hedges to dampen the noise but it was mostly sudden engine noises rushing by at startling speeds.

I put on some Beethoven to feel fancy and distract from my already hurting feet. We pulled up into Heddon-on-the-wall as the playlist hit Ode To Joy and appropriately enough it was lunch time. A joy. We ended up stopping at a Shell station for cold bevvies and ate in a cute park blessed with shade. I took off my shoes and stretched in the grass. Tanya was enamored with her space gummies and we spent the time discussing the various merits of different candies.

We eventually made our way back to the path with wondered through a small suburb before heading down toward the Tyne River. The road ran in a tiered fashion so we had constant views of the houses’ back yards or steep front yards. One such house had a beautiful garden that we stopped to admire. The owner came out to greet us and we were invited to a tour. After discussing bramble management and vinegar, we continued on.

The road eventually curved around into a small forested area. Along one side was a high stone wall and then a sign that said “Biology Experiment”. Tanya and I spent a good 30 minutes speculating on what was going on behind that wall. Mutants? Dinosaurs? Dead bodies? I wanted to believe it was dinosaurs, but there was a distinct lack of dinosaur sounds.

Towards late afternoon, we made it the River Tyne which would be our final companion into Newcastle. The path was all concrete but there was nice patches of grass I was diverting through to help cushion the feet. More and more people were on the path and it was mixed use so the occasional bike drifted through as well. I looked behind me to cross over to some grass, didn’t see anyone and then made my move. One footstep out and a speeding bicyclist came zooming by nearly running me down. As this high class example of a human being passed, he called me a “FOOKING IDIOT”. I snapped back “Oh that’s real nice”. (I’ll admit it wasn’t my best comeback and was in fact the very thing that would haunt me the rest of the day until I came up with a better response.) There was an older lady that was sitting off in the grass and started sing-song crooning to her dog “thaaaaats reeeeaaaal niiiiiice”. It took me quite awhile to even process what the hell was going on. Tanya trudged on.

We made it to our next stop (after much whining from me): The Hedgefield House. It was hit or miss on finding the entrance and once inside who to talk to. But we persevered and after a quick shower (yes! I’m never not excited about this!) made it over to a fancy British Italian restaurant. I say British, because despite the attempt at Italian flavor, there was still somehow none. Salt is your friend here.

Day 7- 10 miles

We got a car back to the trail. Our accommodations were about 2 miles off the path, so to save the old tootsies we decided to do the easier thing. Once back on, it was all paved pathway, all the time. And nary a public toilet in sight, which was unfortunate for my tiny bladder. The path snaked along the river with occasional coverage of houses or hedges. Near the outskirts of Newcastle proper, the path meets the river and stays there. Open sun, no toilets. I was feeling some kind of way by the time we reached a suitable place to stop – an Italian cafe (run by actual Italians, who apparently did not like debit cards judging by the many many signs extolling the virtues of cash). We stopped and had a coffee and I made use of the facilities.

Sun. Heat. Lots of people. Little did we know that the day we were walking into Newcastle coincides with the Great Northern Run, with the finish line right in our path. More and more people and then suddenly it was festival levels amount of humanity. I was trying to keep my cool by paying more attention to all the bridges. I should have taken a note from this guy (possibly a monk?) who was moving along deliberately and doing prostrations. He appeared completely unbothered. There were a lot of puzzled faces.

The end of the race was near the Millennium Bridge, so once we got past that, the crowds mostly died out. We stopped at a place called the Hub for lunch, which also appeared to be a bike shop. After lunch we were back on the path next the river, but now it was decidedly quieter…and dirtier. It didn’t seem like this part the river walk was used much. There was broken glass and weeds everywhere, but hey, no people!

Eventually the trail moved inland and through some housing areas. And then there is was: Segundum, the end. There was a nice plaque to take a picture by. It was so so so hot though. We quickly took our requisite pictures and then moved inside the visitors center for our last stamp. Once again, ending a trail if often very anti-climactic. I just wanted A/C and a shower. The romans built a very nice wall that mostly stood the test of time. Yay.

Tanya called us a taxi to our hotel in Newcastle. This hotel was a little more modern and had individual room thermostats for A/C, so we cranked that sucker down to 19 C at full blast. It was heaven. We showered and then went out to try to find somewhere to eat. It was sizable city, easy enough right? WRONG! Though I did hear enough younger Newcastle patois to last me a lifetime. The kids are loud. We ended up back at the hotel’s restaurant and I had fish n’ chips.

Day 8 and so forth

Sleeping in the frigid A/C is a real treat. Tanya said she was awoken by all the Newcastle partiers but I slept through it all. Out in the street was the detritus of last night festivities: various drink containers, bits of paper, and a lone chunky heel. We got on the train down to London and then eventually connected to another train to Hastings. As an avid driver, I must say the train system seems a whole lot better than 8 lane highways. It was so relaxing to just sit back and not worry about driving somewhere. We basically travelled the whole length of England.

Hastings is a cute little seaside town with wobbly buildings and a still active fishing industry. I didn’t find a 90 degree angle anywhere. The beach is made of pebbles and the water is frigid. We walked around a bit, Tanya did her grocery shopping, and then we had dinner at her local pub. After a day of bothering Tanya at her home, I hopped on the train and made my way to Gatwick. The journey back home was much less stressful: the planes were just their usual lateness and I had a whole row to myself.

Overall, despite the outliers of the sun and heat, the trip was a success! I had fun, I saw stuff and didn’t majorly injure myself. I just wish it could have been longer…and that I brought my sunglasses.

Hadrian’s Wall – Days 3 – 5

On By CherylIn Hadrians wallLeave a comment

Day 3 – 14 miles

We got a ride back to where we left off at the trail. The real start of the wall coming from the west seems to be near Banks East Turret 52A. Historically speaking, the wall was built during Hadrian’s reign to “keep out the barbarians” and to emphasize the might of the Roman Empire, though apparently there wasn’t much need for it’s defensive purposes. Current day, the wall is worn down to its base and never seems taller than 4ft or so. At every roman mile (about 1.48 km or 0.92 of a regular mile) was a “castle” that marked a gateway. Since we were walking the path backwards to its intended direction, the castle and turret numbers would go down instead of up. At some of the castle sites you were fêted with a square shaped foundation of stones next to the wall.

We reached the Birdoswold Fort near mid-morning, where we treated ourselves to fresh beverages at the cafe. This was a historical site you had to pay to get into, so we just sat outside in the courtyard enjoying the nice tables and chairs, a real treat on any walk. After getting our stamps, it was back to the wall.

Everything seemed so lush and green, which I’m guess has something to do with all the sheep poop everywhere. We walked along the wall through rolling hills of verdant grasses with pops of purple Harebells dotted throughout. Occasional informational signs expanded on the history of the wall and the area. And I would promptly forget what I read, it was pretty dry reading. Except for the one sign that told us about a bit of ancient graffiti from a centurion named Candidius.

Lunch was another packed bag from our previous stay. I’ve learned to ask for no butter and to just put the mustard on myself. Today’s fare also included a banana. We found a shady spot near a grove of beech trees. A group of British hikers were already set up and we politely conversed until they moved on. I’ve noticed that the British I’ve encountered so far are polite but reserved. They’re not unfriendly, just not so eager to discuss their whole life story at the first meeting. It’s actually quite refreshing coming from the excitable golden retriever energy of American hiking.

After lunch, it was back into the wind and melting sun with the start of some real climbing. It wasn’t tall, just steep like the Appalachians and in the same manner, the trail makers never heard of a switchback. Once we got past the Walltown Quarry it was a thrill ride over hill and over dale. There was a turret square named for King Arthur that was full of the devil’s weed and one of my many nemeses on this trip: stinging nettle. Even though the constant up and down was frustrating, the sweeping vistas, bright sunshine, and brisk wind made it bearable. Our afternoon snack break was sat upon the top of some grassy bit of hillside with 360 views.

Near the end of our planned day was the highest point marker sitting at a whopping 1130 ft. By the time we got there though, I was beat and didn’t want to stop for long. I just wanted to hoof it to our next pick up spot. We were due to be picked up again and behind schedule. That’s the one thing I don’t like: being put on such a tight schedule. I like having a margin of freedom to meander and go as slow as I want. We missed our taxi and Tanya had to do some calling around since she was the one with a working cell service, with my phone being on permanent Airplane mode. Eventually, we made it to the Manor House Hotel in Haltwistle, where I even got my own room and bathroom. It was practically an apartment.

Day 4 – 12.5 miles

When we got back to trail this morning, it was cold and gray – a little more along the lines of what I thought September in England would look like. Me and Tanya talked about how rough the first 3 days have been, with long miles and tight schedules, and how our feet hurt. Today was going to be shorter and our next accommodations were on trail! So it was an easy going one where we’d take as long as we damn well please! Also it was Robin Hood tree day!

The misty gray was so refreshing to walk in but made the stones underfoot treacherous with the rollercoaster of rolling hills. Soon enough sun was bursting through the clouds and dried up most of the mist. By the time we reached Sycamore Gap the bright sun was out in full force. This particular gap is home to the famous “Robin Hood tree”, as it was featured in the Kevin Costner film “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.” (Or rather the movie should be more famous for Alan Rickman’s iconic portrayal of the Sheriff of Nottingham, in which he chewed so much scenery, I’m surprised there was anything left to show. I just love how absolutely bat shit crazy he is and as the kids say these days: he leaves no crumbs behind. Anyway back to the tree.)

In the movie, Kevin Costner and Morgan Freeman are walking along a wall when they get back to England, and stop near a tree where there is a medieval scuffle involving a kid and the sheriff’s cousin. This is the famed Sycamore Gap. In real life, the lone Sycamore sits in the dip between two sharp hills that the wall zips up and down. Viewing from the south, the background is just bright open sky. It’s the only thing within view and the framing makes the perfect picture. Everything is established for a beautiful shot! (I can’t believe some idiots chopped this tree down only two weeks after I was there.)

This is a popular part of the trail and on this day, it is full of hikers. Me and Tanya got to visit the tree and take pictures for literally two minutes before a hordes of day hikers showed up. We boot scooted along the wall to an out cropping with a view of Crag Lough where we sat and had second breakfast. Down below we watched two swans float peacefully on the water while behind us a steady line of path traffic increased. We passed by another roman fort attraction – Housesteads – whose main attraction to me was their bathrooms. We got another stamp.

With all the people on trail today, we had to go off trail a bit to find a nice shady spot for lunch. We found a downed tree among some damp grasses. As we ate Tanya was able to identify some of the bird song around us. There was a very polite sounding woodpecker who seemed much quieter than their raucous American cousins.

After a nice shady jaunt in some old oaks, it was back out into the exposed ridgeline. The heat was ramping up and felt a hot spot on the back of my right knee from the southern sun. I could feel my skin starting to cook. Of all the things I was prepared for, blazing sun and heat was not something I considered for British weather conditions. We slogged through four miles of cow and sheep fields, dodging the patties and getting sporadic views of the wall. We met a nice couple while searching for a break spot in some shade and the lady had some sunscreen that I borrowed for my cooked knee. (You may or may not be surprised that the shops we’ve passed along the way do not sell sunscreen.) My buff was enlisted for further sun protection on my knee.

And then it was a zombie walk in the sun and heat near a road. Tanya was ahead and did that wavery desert thing they do in movies. This trail went through dried out farm fields and of course: sheep. Let us never forget all the poop. I put on a podcast and tried not to pay attention to the sizzle in my knee. Once we reached the road into Chollerford it was all downhill in the shade, and we reached our destination the George Hotel which sat on the banks of River North Tyne.

Getting to our rooms was an another trek through a labyrinth of hallways and stairs. We finally found our room which felt like a sauna. And why would that be? Because there was no A/C, which understandable, it’s northern England. But why not put a screen on the window? Along with the heat were corners full of weird English bugs. I went to take a shower first and found the back of my knee was Kentucky Fried crispy. How absurd is that the first time I get burned in 20+ years is in England?! I didn’t even get burned in the California desert on the PCT!

Dinner was a microwaved spaghetti dish from the hotel’s restaurant that they didn’t heat up all the way. The middle was literally still frozen. The waitress took it back and returned with a nuclear meltdown plate of noodles that still hadn’t cooled down by the time Tanya was done. Looking at the river was nice though. It was that tannin rich dark brown water that looks like Guinness. We watched as the sun set and then returned to our steamy bug filled room.

This tree was a movie star! RIP Sycamore.

Day 5 – 9 miles

The George’s breakfast buffet was disappointing but somewhat filling. What wasn’t disappointing was the weather! It was chilly and gray again, which my much abused skin appreciated. We walked along a road way with speedy cars and eventually veered off into some fields. The humidity set in and again I was left wondering where the hell I was. After a climb up where we got a nice view of the valley below, it was back into the forest.

I’m not sure how, but I rolled my ankle pretty hard. The scenery somehow knew this and turned all sweet to accommodate my bad mood. I hobbled through a misty grove of heather and sloe berry that let out onto open fields with large haystacks. The gray fogginess made them seem like spooky hay dolmans – all tall and imposing – just waiting to inflict some sort of cosmic chaos.

A spitting rain picked up as we reached the Errington Arms, a cute little roadside cafe in the middle of nowhere. We stopped to have coffee and lunch. I had a chicken pot pie with what looked like a deconstructed salad. Little piles of iceberg, coleslaw, tomatoes (the English love their toms), cucumbers, and beets took up most of the plate. Then we had Victoria sponge cake, on which they poured what looked like heavy cream. And you know what? I wasn’t mad at it. I may have gone a little feral about it in fact.

After lunch, the rain died out and we continued on through the shit-filled fields next to the road. A short four miles later we made it to the Robin Hood Inn that was directly on trail. We stayed in one of their cabins out back. Once the the doors and windows were opened, it reminded me of a very fancy Appalachian Trail shelter….with running water…and beds. Once we figured out how the hot water worked, we took showers and chilled out for the afternoon.

Hadrian’s Wall

On By CherylIn Hadrians wall1 Comment

(I’ve been so late in posting this write-up, that it seems silly to even post it now. For some reason, my brain labeled this activity WORK and then pulled a full meltdown about doing any of it. This is weird, because I like writing, but then I’m all procrastinatey about it. So here I am just finally doing it. I wrote in my journal the day of, so I’ve got the notes. Future Cheryl is just going to have to write these posts during any future trips like I did on previous hikes. Lesson learned.)

Some background: If you didn’t already know, I played roller derby in the Aughts (2005-2009) until my knees and feet gave up the ghost. My skate name was Foxfire and though I’d eventually learn all the various meanings in that name, I really only chose it because I was obsessed with Inuyasha at the time. It was a wild time of raucous games, whirlwind trips, and loooots of drinking. By the time I retired I was left with a dodgy knee and a network of lovely friendships. One of which was Tanya Hyde, the founding member who kickstarted creating a league in Atlanta.

One time when we meandered around a New Orleans graveyard, a busker (not sure what he was doing there actually) came up and decided we needed a song made up about us on the spot. In his song/rap he uttered the following: Tanya and her daughter Fox… which set us off, because Tanya is only 10 years older than me, but it gave us a laugh and she was forever my Derby Mama.

This was the year everyone basically had the same purse.
ACTION SHOT: We’re in the blue, Tanya is kicking butt, I’m messing with my wrist guard.

Earlier this year Tanya was back for a visit in Atlanta after moving to England and we were talking about me coming over to visit. I floated the idea of a hike, one that Tanya might enjoy, which didn’t include my usual brand of sleeping in the dirt. We decided on Hadrian’s wall – it was long enough, 84 miles (135km) but walkable within a week. There were Inns and B&Bs to stay in each night, hot food, and best of all a carrier company that would ferry your luggage from stop to stop. All you had to do was show up and walk. Perfect! Set the dates, paid the money and all I had to do was get there.

Easier said than done. Traveling by airplane these days is a apocalyptical nightmare. My first connecting flight was cancelled because of a tropical storm and therefore I wasn’t going to catch the actual flight to London. I spent four hours in lines and on the phone. Two meltdowns later, I’ve got a direct flight to London that only put me 3 hours behind schedule. As we were taxing out to the runway, the Captain informs us that we’re returning to the gate because of a medical emergency. It began to feel like the universe was pulling a prank, a real cosmic joke. And no, they didn’t ask for a doctor overhead like they do in the movies.

I finally got to Heathrow where Tanya met me and we were going to London to stay in her friend’s houseboat until traveling up to Carlisle to start the hike. Some train rides and a turn around the Underground later I’m finally in the spot I’m supposed to be, running on 28 hours of no sleep. I get set up with some espresso and we go eat some lovely Indian food.

The next day was a free day in London. I’d been here before, back in high school. Every year our school had international trips you could take during spring break. We stayed in London a couple of days and meandered up through Bath, York, Gretna Green, and finally stopped in Edinburgh. By the end I was horribly sick and had to stay in the hotel while everyone else went on the day tour of Edinburgh. Either way, it was incredibly exciting for 16 year old Cheryl to be in England, the homeland of the Beatles. I was obsessed. Anyone else remember that resurgence of Beatles hysteria/nostalgia in the mid/late 90s?

Wee Cheryl, excited about big stones. This may be the start of me presenting things.
I really loved that hat. You’ll notice that I’m wearing the highly fashionable JNCOs.

Back to the present, the day started out rainy and cool as we walked along the river. Heading towards Battersea Park, the rain really started to come down. I know its gauche to carry an umbrella in London, but I did anyway. I was surprised to see the bandstand from Good Omens (a show on Amazon that if you haven’t seen, you should). Ate some breakfast at a lovely cafe near a duck filled pond. We walked though Covent Gardens towards Buckingham Palace where the crowds really started to show up. Then it was through St. James’s Park with more ducks (another Good Omens filming location). Kept meandering into the city to a book store and then the National Portrait Gallery with some truly old shit. We took a break here in their cafe downstairs, and then took the tube over to the Tower. Ate some sushi, it was meh. We walked across the Tower Bridge and down towards the Globe and saw “As You Like It”. I know the general consensus is that Shakespeare is the start of modern English, but I still could have use the Cliff notes on this one. Still it was funny, the parts I understood and wouldn’t you know it, the Globe is also yet another Good Omens filming location. I didn’t even plan this, but ended up at three Good Omens spots.

Thankfully we got a cab back to the houseboat, because my feet were beat! I’ve said this before and I’ll say this again it is very different/harsher walking on concrete for long periods of time. Also in hindsight I should have bought new shoes for this trip rather than trying to make my old ones stretch.

The next day we spent on bus heading towards Carlisle, the biggest city near the start. The trains were on strike in this part of the country, still it was only a 8-ish hour bus ride and not entirely unpleasant. I saw the country side go from industrial to small farms and then the Yorkshire Dales imposing hill sides (well mountains, but think smaller like more exposed Appalachians) all from the highway. We got into Carlisle and settled into our first accommodation: the Arkale lodge. Across the road was an Asda which had the most British thing I’ve every seen – a whole aisle dedicated to mayonnaise. There was regular, light, spicy, various other “flavors” and then also something called “Brown Sauce” which looked exactly like it sounded. There was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it space for mustard with your option of two sizes of French’s yellow mustard. Funnily enough they did have a good selection of hot sauces and I ended up getting Frank’s Red Hot to put on, well, everything.

Next blog: the actual start of Hadrian’s Wall!