Hadrian's Wall

I returned late Wednesday night from my cross-England hike, following Hadrian's Wall from the North Sea to the Irish Sea. I can now say I've walked in the footsteps of Roman legionaires. Less preciously, perhaps, I can say that I've spent two weeks -- hiking, riding on trains, and staying at Bed and Breakfasts -- rubbing shoulders with the English people of today, an altogether pleasant and enjoyable experience in itself.

But we all know already that the English tend to be intelligent, quietly witty, endlessly patient, and more or less good-naturedly tolerant of us American buffoons. So I don't need to linger on that aspect of the trip.

My hike was arranged through a British provider -- the company reserved the B&B's at which I would stay each night, and arranged for a local company to move my luggage each day, while I was hiking, to my next destination. They also provided maps, a guide book, and detailed instructions on how to find my accommodations each evening. The trip was unguided. I had to hike (roughly 14 miles a day) and carry a daypack.

I have rarely worked with a travel vendor that was as quietly efficient or that did so precisely everything that it promised to do at the time I paid (quite inexpensively) for the package. I'd be happy to give the name of the vendor and further details to anyone who is interested in this hike (or one of the many others, all over Britain, provided by the company), together with my unqualified recommendation.

I arrived in London on July 28, spent a night trying to sleep despite disruption of my circadian rhythms, and took the train the next morning to Newcastle, a ride of about 3 ½ hours. A transfer onto one of Newcastle's excellent rapid transit trains and I arrived at Tynemouth, a beach town on a cliff overlooking the North Sea. I located the first of the B&B's that my provider had reserved for me -- on Tynemouth's main street, and a half block from the sea -- and knew immediately that I was going to enjoy the hike. The B&B was a small building, crowded in with other buildings on the street. I rang the bell, and was greeted by a kindly, elderly woman, a genteel lady who seemed to have stepped out of a 1940's British movie.¹ She had been expecting me, she said, and offered me tea, gave me a key to the front door, showed me to my room, and then tactfully disappeared.

I next saw my hostess in the morning in the small dining room where she served me, together with a few other guests, the amazing meal called an English breakfast -- eggs, ham, bacon (British style), mushrooms, tomatoes, baked beans, and toast presented in that strange English rack designed to make sure the toast is cold by the time you eat it. This process, with some variation, was to be repeated every morning for the next eight days.

I finished my meal, more than adequately fueled up for my first day's walk, a walk that began at Segedunum Fort (which I toured) where Hadrian's Wall begins, continued along the Tyne riverfront through downtown Newcastle, and ended up at Newburn, a suburb just west of Newcastle. My first day's hike was eleven miles, just to warm me up, the next day was 14, and the days varied only slightly in distance from that day on.

The path for the first three days was fairly flat, often following the "Military Road" -- a road constructed along side, or actually on top of, the wall in the 1740's, as an emergency means of getting troops from Newcastle to rural areas where the Scottish forces favoring Bonnie Prince Charlie were making incursions. The wall was here visible only in isolated pieces, although the "vallum," a ditch just south of the wall, dug as part of the wall fortifications, was nearly always visible. By the fourth day, however, as the path climbed into the hilly central part of the country, the wall was gloriously intact (although at reduced height since Roman times) for long stretches. Roman milecastles also could be seen through much of this hilly area, as well as the foundations of Roman forts built into the wall.

I had arranged for a one-day layover near Twice Brewed, at the central point of the hike, an area that had some of the best stretches of the wall. I took advantage of this free day to hike to the ruins and archeological works at Vindolanda, a Roman fort pre-dating the wall and located about a mile or so south of it.

And the hike wasn't all about the wall. The scenery was magnificent. A geologic formation called the Whin Sill cuts across Northumberland and Cumbria in northern England, resulting in gradual uphill slopes from the south, falling sharply by rock cliffs to the north. The Romans took advantage of the Whin Sill in designing their defenses, building the wall along its ridge. The rocky crags, and the lakes that form at the base of the cliffs, add drama to the already beautiful green, rolling hills.

The dramatic portions of the hike end at the small city of Carlisle, and many wall hikers end their hikes at this point. I went ahead and hiked the final 16 miles to the actual termination of the wall at Bowness-on-Solway, a tiny town on the Solway Firth, an inlet of the Irish Sea. There are no surviving Roman ruins along this last 16 miles, but the very flat walk alongside the Firth is attractive -- although the day seemed very long by the time I reached Bowness!

All in all, an easy hike, compared with, say, the Himalayas. But the daily distances were greater than I'm used to, and my feet paid a price. Unfortunately, I had developed a hot spot on one foot before leaving home -- some problem with my shoes -- and this translated into blisters on the hike. I had plasters stuck over both heels and was hobbling somewhat painfully for several days. But the experience reminded me that low grade pain is something that you can push into the back of your mind if the experience is otherwise interesting and enjoyable enough. Character-building, as my parents' generation would have said. I do suggest well-broken-in boots or shoes, plus a supply of Second Skin, to anyone planning such a hike.

And the weather, that had greatly concerned me before departure?

At some point on your walk it will rain; if it doesn't, it's fair to say that you haven't really lived the full Hadrian's Wall experience properly.

--My (obviously British) guidebook

Despite all my forebodings (see prior blog posting) and despite threatening skies daily, the rain didn't really fall (a few drops, maybe) throughout most of my hike. I was beginning to fear that I therefore wasn't "properly" experiencing everything that Hadrian's Wall had to offer. Luckily, I was hit by a shower near the end of the final day, a shower strong enough to force me to dig my windbreaker out of my daypack.

I was less than two miles from my final destination. I just grinned as the heavens opened.

After sleeping at a delightful B&B with a view from my window of the ancient and rather spooky graveyard next door, I took a bus back to Carlisle, and the train to London, where I spent four nights recovering from my exertions. London is always fun, and I took in a couple of West End shows, as well as visits to the British Museum (greatly renovated inside since my last visit) and the National Gallery.

A truly interesting and relatively inexpensive two weeks, an experience I'd recommend to anyone who enjoys both history and the outdoors. (If you're anxious for more, I've posted photos of the hike on Facebook.) (For map of hike, see earlier post.)

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¹I learned on my return that my Tynemouth B&B has undefined "associations" with Charlotte Bronte, Charles Dickens, Thomas Carlyle and Lady Byron. I did sense that I felt literarily inspired while I slept.