Day 6 - 28.2 km. Old gates and binoculars

Mr Darcy and I are not ‘life goals’ kinds of people, but it was lovely to complete the walk from the East to the West of England along the Hadrian’s Wall route. Nine years ago, we crossed England from West to East while doing the Coast to Coast walk (that was a wider section down south and 320km over 15 - I blogged then too and should look back to compare feet stories!).

Today was a varied and surprisingly jaunty day of walking. Carlisle, our starting point, is a beautiful town, as is the surrounding Cumbrian countryside which is flanked by the River Eden. The walking from the fields to the sea was mostly on level ground, but it was a solid seven hours of walking, an hour of rest in total, so another long day on our feet. My feet are dodgy but they earn a rest tomorrow (and possibly for the next year).

There’s little of the wall to see from Carlisle to the end point of the wall - Bowness-on-Solway, a small village (with a very long history!) near the coast. And this is the thing. The Roman’s built and manned Hadrian’s Wall from AD122 until they left in AD410, but there was so much history to follow. Scottish kings, English kings, the Normans and Saxons, invasion, retreat, invasion, retreat, truces and kings all over the place. Pictured here is a church in Solway which was built from stone from Hadrian’s wall (the old castle to the right is a fine example of that) and there are so many examples of the use of the Hadrian’s wall in other constructions. And why wouldn’t there be? England was invaded by the Romans and the wall was built to keep those to the north of the wall out. No one either side of the wall had reason to keep it as it was. Quite the opposite, as the English wanted more territory over the wall, and the Scots (and their predecessors) wanted more territory too.

Highlights of the walk? Mr Darcy, obviously. He’s walked at my pace during the day, and I’ve solidly supported him as he’s slept off the burden at night. Sometimes he pretends to be more sore than he actually is, which is really quite sweet of him. We’ve seen some wonderful sights and laughed a lot in the past six days, just as we have for the past forty-five years. Other highlights have been the places we’ve stayed. It’s always a little random on these walks - we choose where we want to stay before the accomodation is selected because we want to be on the route and we’re on foot - but last night we stayed in the Old Rectory of a church built from the wall, and a couple of nights ago we were in Lanercost in a house in the (literal) shadows of an 11th Century Abbey.

As I mentioned in my last blog post, we got very wet yesterday. Thank goodness our host at the guest house was kind enough to put on the strip heaters so we could dry our clothes and boots! Not all hosts are as accomodating - the host the night before gave us 45 minutes of heating time. Mind you, we used her hairdryer to the point of exhaustion - ours and the dryer’s. And we also took the hosts hot chocolate sachets because we were cranky (we’ll drink them in the Cotswalds). While emptying our sopping wet backpacks, I found Mr Darcy’s store of secret stash. Why was it secret? Because I always tell him he carries too much (including one million litres of water as if we were hiking across the Sahara Desert and he was a camel) but he refuses to let even one millilitre go. Secret stash as follows:

Binoculars that, over the past ten years of numerous hikes, we have not used once.

A device like a Swiss Army knife that is VERY heavy. Granted, we have used it twice. The first time was in Scotland, when it was used to cut a hole in the back of my boot to relieve pressure on my heel. The second time, it was used to cut tape to bind my foot after my boot broke in half. We used it again yesterday to sort out my bandaids. Hmmm. Maybe that device should stay.

Insect repellant we have not used at all. Though we are afraid of midges - flying insects that congregate in their thousands and suck your soul from your body (possibly an exaggeration, but they are tiny and extraordinarily annoying and they bite). When we hiked in Scotland three years ago, this repellant was an absolute essential in the evenings. On reflection, maybe the repellant should stay too.

Water. Yes, we need back up, but there is TOO MUCH.

Another reflection. Fathers and teenaged sons. We’ve seen a number of this combination and found the fathers ridiculously chirpy to make up for the truculence and clear reluctance to spend 6 - 8 days hiking with their fathers. We’ve been there/ done that with teenaged sons, and so admire the fathers for their perseverance because there are bound to be so many times when the bond is strengthened one way or the other. We sat with one of these pairings at breakfast this morning and the dad (possibly lightheaded like we are from extreme exertion) fumbled over his juice and spilt it on the table. He laughed at himself, his son laughed with him as they mopped up, and it was a lovely shared moment of comaraderie to witness.

Encouraging words from the trail:

‘You can do it, Granny!’ Our grandchildren are not with us, but these are words they sometimes use (when they don’t want to get out of the pram and walk, for example, and I am pushing them up a steep hill. Or when there is a particularly tricky section of Lego to build. Or when I come to a cash only bread shop and they want finger buns and I am burrowing for coins in my handbag. Or, worst of all, when a toy needs new batteries and I have to unscrew the back of it with a fingernail. ‘This is team work, isn’t it Granny?’ is an alternative encouraging phrase. Mr Darcy (out of range so I can’t swing from his backpack and make him fall over) uses these to make me energetically cranky.

‘I could carry you.’ This is an offer Mr Darcy makes. It takes our minds off the pain of the last few kilometres as we think of how this could possibly be achieved. Generally we decide he could maybe, at a push, do five metres with me on his back (while carrying both backpacks on my back) before stumbling and putting us both into a ditch. I also work out ways I could help him if he collapsed. I think rolling him down a road would work, but he worries about gravel rash.

Fake flower arrangements in Bed & Breakfast establishments. I wish I’d taken a photo of more of them. Maybe there’s a thought that with all the lovely gardens in England, every B & B needs them in every room. I wish I could tell hosts that they are not the same as fresh flowers. And as, understandably, it’s a hassle to pick the flowers for every room, they should simply direct all guest to look out of the window to the glorious gardens outside. We’ve met some lovely hosts along the way and also other hikers. Everyone is footsore which gives us common ground, and there are many stories to share. We all go to bed very early!

One final thought: New things can be great, but old is pretty wonderful. As proof, the image above is of a modern kissing gate, and an older one (though many are much older!). Gates are reflective of aging in many ways. The catches get creaky, the timber is aged and has scars, but that’s okay. Same with walking. Pace, style and distance doesn’t matter. When you walk, feet on the ground, breathing fresh air, you reflect on times gone by and anticipate future adventures.