Following Hadrian’s Wall: Day Eight – Carlisle to Bowness on Solway

Day 8 Carlisle to Bowness-on-Solway

Thankfully, my legs were working again today and I was grateful to realise I would not be hobbling all the 15 miles to Bowness. Especially as today we had a strict time limit, there was no B&B at the end of our journey but a taxi then a train to catch.

But first we had a camera to find.

As we packed our belongings in the morning, it turned out Simon’s camera seemed to have disappeared. There was simply no sign of it. We mentally retraced all our steps and the decision was made that we would call into Pizza Express – where we ate the evening before – on our way to enquire whether the lost item had been left there the previous evening. It was a detour we would be making anyway as we were already going to the train station to leave our rucksacks. Pizza Express was shut but a notice on the window stated the phone number and we left a message, hoping that there would be a happy ending to the case of the lost camera. Then to the train station where we entered a room with no outward sign (we had enquired the day before and so knew where to go) filled a form, and handed our bags to retrieve them later in the day.

The River Eden was our next port of call where we followed the river path. A dip in a field near the Sourmilk Footbridge turned out to be Roman vallum, but there wasn’t much obvious history around although, as in previous places, the Wall could still be seen in nearby buildings.

About half way through our trek, we learnt that the camera had been left in the restaurant. Relieved and happier we carried on to the village of Burgh by Sands. And this was a treasure trove of history. The vicar and some parishioners spotted us looking around the grounds and ushered us in, supplying us with very welcome water and telling us about the history of the church. St Michael’s Church was built on a five-acre Roman fort, Aballava. The church, built in the 1200s and largely from Roman stones, was the  place where Edward I lay in state after he died from dysentery in Burgh-by-Sands. It was also well-fortified, its tower – which we saw – having tiny slit windows to protect against raiders. It is definitely worth a visit to this unusual church.  

After our little rest, we followed the line of vallum, over flat lonely – except for cows – marsh where we could see the River Eden and, further away, Scotland. It’s also possible on a good day to see the Lake District. The next curious spot we encountered was Port Carlisle, a sleepy coastal village. Once upon a time there was a railway line and canal, I had even read that Stephenson’s Rocket travelled on the line. Alas, no longer although it is possible to see the remains. On we trudged until we reached a sign Bowness on Solway, oh, glorious words. Not long to go now, not long to go… A pretty little public garden with shelter overlooked the sands and that was where we got our final stamp for the passport. We joked earlier that there would be a celebratory party awaiting us, of course it was more sedate than that. A cafe tea, a souvenir T-shirt bought, a Walkers’ Book signed in the local pub… and although there was no grand ceremony we still earned our certificates (actually they cost £1 but we certainly deserved ours!) A big difference to the industrial start of our journey, this was such a peaceful, sleepy coastal oasis. I was glad we finished here.

We slumped into the taxi tired out, ready for Carlisle.

Pick up the camera, get our belongings, board the train…

Our exhausting but exhilarating journey was over.

It was time to go home.

 

My Hadrian’s Wall adventure had, alas, come to an end but a couple of years later I embarked on a new journey… See https://cosycottageandthequestforthegoodlife.wordpress.com

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Seven – A Day of Rest in Carlisle

A rest day, and one much needed as I could barely get out of bed, let alone walk. The journey taken over the previous week had finally taken its toll. But there was still history and culture to discover in Carlisle and a 15-mile walk the next day (don’t need to think of that just yet!) After a big breakfast, we walked into the city centre (or in my case more like hobbled!) but happily this time without our heavy rucksacks. Carlisle is a place I have often travelled past when on a train to Scotland but have never ventured to. And every time I go past and see the castle, the words ‘that’s a place I must visit’ cross my mind. Anyway I was here. Back in Roman times, Carlisle was the Wall’s HQ and the base for forts Stanwix and Lugovalium. We didn’t see Tullie House Museum on our day off, but it is still on my must-see list for a later point. Instead we made use of our English Heritage card and explored the impressive castle. Originally built in the 1090s, and replaced in 1122, it saw a lot of violent drama through the wars between England and Scotland. And later Mary Queen of Scots was kept prisoner here although the Warden’s Tower can no longer be seen. We also looked around the beautiful Norman/Gothic-styled Carlisle Cathedral, dating from the 1100s. After its nave was demolished in the 1600s, it is one of the smallest of England’s cathedrals. Its café is very pleasant for a bite to eat and a tea. A relaxing sightseeing day which hopefully will refresh us before our last chapter of our expedition tomorrow.

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Six – Greenhead to Carlisle

This was the big one. Up to now our walks averaged between 12 and 15 miles a day but this was at least 18 miles. And it was the hottest day yet. Still, at least it wasn’t pouring with rain (think positive Clare!) We had a packed lunch with us although a slight stomach ache prevented me having much of an appetite.

We travelled into the next village of Gilsand, through a field and realised that, for the first time, we had lost our way and were roaming confusingly around some farmer’s meadow. Thankfully we found the path again and, once back on the trail, got our passport stamped at Birdoswald Roman Fort. Unfortunately, because of the sheer distance we needed to cover we did not have the time to look around. We came across the foundation of Willowford Bridge, where the Wall and Military Way crossed the river. According to my Trailblazer book, it was the final section of the Wall to have been built. The Romans extended the stone wall from Newcastle which would have joined up with the turf wall starting from Bowness-on-Solway.

It wasn’t long before we left Northumberland – and the majority of the visible wall – behind. At this point it was goodbye wild, hilly moorland and hello rustic farmland. Flat fields, hamlets and villages were our scenic companions today. My Trailblazer says that the Cumbrian land has been cultivated for centuries, destroying much of the wall. Hence the lack of Roman stonework seen today.

Near Hare Hill, where there was a small section of wall, we came across a coachload of people who were standing and walking all over it. We were a little surprised as we had heard people weren’t supposed to walk actually on the Wall.

Every time we came across a village (few and far between for the first half of our walk), I dreamt of having a comforting cup of tea in a little cafe. But no, we had to continue. So we carried on, striding through Walton (except for a toilet stop), Crosby-on-Eden (was it a mirage or did I spot an inviting pub here?!), Linstock, Rickerby (which boasted a tower in a field) and so on. A river amble broke up the field-after-field treadmill and we knew our destination was nearing when we spotted the buildings of Carlisle in the distance. One nice thing I remember was coming across little ‘honesty stalls’, unmanned boxes attached to farmhouses. Selling drinks to thirsty hikers, there would be a little box to put money in. We were among those dry adventurers who were refreshed after paying for fruit juices. After going through Rickerby Park and arriving in the suburbs, a passer-by helped us with directions and a short time after we finally arrived at out B&B. I was interested to see a sign outside saying that, under the guesthouse, lay the foundations of Hadrian’s Wall. When our landlord Roy told us about the dining options in Carlisle we really were spoilt for choice. Our exhausted legs just about managed to take us to a fish and chips takeaway around the corner, even my normally fit companion was walking stiffly. Luckily tomorrow was a rest day. 

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Five – Thursday, June 4

Bardon Mill to Greenhead

There were no fellow walkers amongst us this morning at breakfast time, and I missed the camaraderie and swapping of stories. I liked the B&B and the village pub but honestly, if we knew of the detour, I believe we would have looked for somewhere nearer. We retraced our steps up the road, past Vindolanda, past the lime kilns, through fields, crossing the main road and then, finally, back up to the Wall. Today was drizzly. But after yesterday’s torrential downpour, I was quite happy with drizzle. My waterproof poncho came out and on. I still had my anorak but, after yesterday, it looked as if it was coming apart. Anyway, with rucksack on back (thank goodness it had a waterproof lining), poncho donned, and hiking stick in hand, I was ready to face the battles of the day.

Yesterday was the day when we reached the wall proper.

Today we saw the beauty and splendour of the Northumberland moorland with the Wall as the perfect backdrop. The Americans we met were right, it really was photogenic.

My friend Cassandra had told me about the famous sycamore tree, a film star in its own right after appearing in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. I met this star at Sycamore Gap, and what a star it was: A lone tree in a dip between two hills – striking, beautiful, majestic. Up and down the undulating hills, milecastles dotted along every so often, we followed a pattern of climbs and descends alongside the wall. Some were surprisingly steep, not what I was expecting really! As if the scenery wasn’t enough, the waters of Crag Lough could be seen in the distance beyond. We reached the highest point of 345m on Winshield Crags and carried on until Cawfields Quarry. After the quarry, our wall wander took us through farmland and the ancient remains were more hidden and not as obvious.

Unlike the previous day where there were only the most hardened of hikers, today had many people of all ages walking the wall. Perhaps many were holidaymakers and day trippers as this was the most popular section to walk

The fields seemed to stretch forever and I recognised my speed was slowing down. But, thankfully, about 3.30pm, we reached Thirlwall Castle, on the Hadrian’s Wall Path and made of stones from the wall. After exploring it, we checked into the neighbouring guesthouse. This was the most expensive of the B&Bs but, although there was no TV in our room, a splendid view of the castle greeted us instead from the window. We were the only people in the actual B&B (although there were others camping or staying at the bunkhouse), so we could watch what we liked in the TV lounge. Our evening meal was eaten at the nearby Greenhead Hotel. That evening as well as tired, I felt rather apprehensive about the next day where we would have to trudge at least 18 miles to Carlisle.    

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Four – Wednesday, June 4

Greencarts to Bardon Mill

We enjoyed a full cooked breakfast in the neighbouring bunkhouse with the two Americans. They were going the opposite way along the wall (from Bowness to Newcastle) so had just completed the middle section. They told us it was the most scenic of the route and they couldn’t stop taking photos. There was also a mention of a herd of cows blocking a gate in Bowness-on-Solway. I would often think of this every time we entered a field with cows (I’m not scared of cows with their calves, just wary!)

Once we were ready, we paid and this time didn’t need to think of giving the key back as there was none. Up to now giving a key back was something we kept forgetting. The landlady still thought of Simon as Australian.

It felt a trek just getting to the end of the farm track. And then the rain started to come on. Ah well, I mused, we were prepared. We were wearing waterproof trousers and jackets, had got used to the on/off drizzle of the previous few days and had rambled in the rain in the run-up to this challenge.

But no, this was different.

It was torrential.

This was the day when we ended up walking through what seemed to be a bog. When our shoes (allegedly waterproof), socks (allegedly blisterproof), and ultimately feet (neither waterproof or blisterproof) got wet. Soaking wet.

But it was also the day we arrived at Sewingshields which for me was when the Hadrian’s Wall walk turned from simply a pleasant wander through gentle country fields into something much more, both in terms of both history and scenery. We were along the wall proper. I remember going through a forested area then coming out to the wall and, unlike a little glimpse earlier, this was the main section. The flatness gave way to hills.

Just before Sewingshields, we encountered two men sheltering under the trees from the heavy downpour, they were on their way to Greenhead (where we were heading the next day), and were completing the walk in four days. There did seem to be an informal ‘competition’ where people would say how long they were doing it for. We were doing it in eight and certainly would not be classed as ‘winners’.

Finally we arrived at Housesteads, located right on the wall itself, and although I had visions of tea it turned out there was no cafe as such at the museum but one a bit further away. Still, there was a hint of warmth in the museum, and its collection of artefacts were engaging. Housesteads is seen as the best of the Roman forts by some but, due to the weather conditions, we didn’t stay long outside at the ruins and I would say I had a better time at Chesters and Corbridge. From Housesteads we took a detour towards Vindolanda and Bardon Mill, away from Hadrian’s Wall Path through fields, across the road, and along the minor road on the other side. We passed a couple of lime kilns along the way, not Roman origin but interesting in themselves. A blocked gate prevented us from entering a meadow and it turned out there were cows and calves in there.

Vindolanda was the largest of the museums and forts we had visited so far. There was a disappointing moment when we realised it wasn’t English Heritage and we’d have to pay entry (although being English Heritage members we still saved £1), but there was plenty to see including the famous writing tablets. Outside we could see the remains of not only the fort, but what would have been the ‘civilian settlement’ of homes and shops. A reconstruction of Hadrian’s Wall is also there. Unfortunately the weather impeded our enjoyment of looking outside but we had a cup of tea and scone in the cafe while looking again at our map. Our path to Bardon Mill took us along the quiet country road again, past some houses and, feeling exhausted, when we finally got to a tunnel going under a main road where the B&B was situated on we opted to ring the guesthouse for directions. We weren’t far, just another 15 minutes or so. Across the busy road, another phonecall (were we still going the right way?), and we glimpsed the sign for Strand Cottage. How welcome it looked!

Our landlady let us in and, thankfully, told us our soaking wet clothes could be kept in the dry room, along with our boots. More welcome news came when she said dining options were either a takeaway or her husband would drive us to the local pub. A quick shower later, a change to spare shoes (which fitted well), and we caught a very kind lift to the pub. I imagine it was a mere 10 minutes walk but our feet was grateful for a lift. The atmosphere was a bit anxious in the car as the landlord had lost the couple’s dog earlier. The landlady told us they’d try to pick us up later but couldn’t be certain, they were going to try and find their dog first. We both had a tasty meal in the village pub and were working on a newspaper crossword when our landlord appeared. Happily, it turned out the couple had found their rescue pooch. And, once back in the guesthouse, it was time for bed – and a chance for my poor feet to recover from the rain as well as the 15 miles slog that day.

 

 

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Three – Tuesday, June 3

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Three – Tuesday, June 3.

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps: Day Three – Tuesday, June 3

Corbridge to Chollerford (Greencarts)

Considering how the hikers we spoke to on the first evening were walking from Heddon to Chollerford, a 12-mile walk, we thought this day, give or take the detour from Corbridge back to the wall, would be a relatively easy one. After all, we’d already had a headstart. Not quite the case.

Breakfast was filling, this time a full English breakfast. Four Australian ladies were also residing in the B&B, they were getting luggage transfers (an option which seemed more and more tempting as the week went on) and we later saw them twice in Chollerford, at Chesters Bridge and Museum.

In a way, today’s walk was divided into three stages, first retracing our steps from Corbridge back to the wall, the wall walk to Chollerford, and finally making our way to Greencarts, which we assumed was in Humshaugh and so not far from Chollerford.

Today’s walk was mostly fields, but it was also the day we first encountered the first ‘proper’ wall at Planetrees. After some miles, we arrived at Chollerford (which I kept thinking of as Chollerton, a little confusing as there is really is a Chollerton nearby). As we trekked over the modern bridge, we found a small village with all the necessary amenities. A toilet stop at The George Hotel, a cup of tea at the cafe opposite with its various wildlife and landscape paintings on display, and most of all a nice sit-down!

We proceeded on a 20-minute walk to the remains of the Roman bridge at the opposite side of the river overlooking Chesters fort. Apparently there is an ancient phallic symbol somewhere on the bridge but we couldn’t spot it. We then walked back to Chollerford then down the road to Chesters Museum and Fort. Kindly, the museum staff said we could take off our rucksacks and leave them by a bench, which was welcome, although of course we kept all our valuables on us. The fort is bigger than Corbridge, and I found the bath house with its remains of saunas and steam baths fascinating for its time. But more than anything I enjoyed the old-fashioned Victorian style museum, not changed since the 1850s when it was set up. There are no fancy gimmicks, no child-friendly games but row upon row of Roman artefacts laden upon the shelves, altars, statues and so on. Looking around the museum felt like going back in time in itself.

We headed back to Humshaugh, a mile away. The address I had for the bunkhouse was Humshaugh, near Chollerford. So I wrongly assumed it was located in, er… Humshaugh? Approaching the sign I had the brainwave of checking the map in my Trailfinder book to find Greencarts was not in Humshaugh but the opposite direction. About three miles away.

On the plus side, walking the mile back towards Chesters meant we could pick up my forgotten wooden walking stick which Simon had chosen for me on our travels (I had previously left behind two other sticks), this one I kept to the end and is now keeping up foxgloves in my garden.

So we once again plodded through fields, paths, past Black Carts Roman Wall – the next sizable segment of wall – until we got to a sign saying Greencarts and then down another rurally isolated trail. This led to a farmhouse with camper vans and tents in the distance. I had no idea what to expect, this would be only my second occasion staying at a bunkhouse and as it was a mere £18, including breakfast, I had visions of sleeping on a ledge in a decrepit old barn with 20 other people in the same place. But as the landlady showed us round (after mistaking Simon for an Australian, still better than a Conservative), it was more ‘upmarket’ than I was expecting. Our bunkhouse was clean and tidy, furnished with about eight bunk beds with sleeping bags, a dining table and chairs, fridge and kettle. There was also a TV set and a collection of old books. It turned out we were the only ones there that night. Instead of fellow walkers snoring (which we could hear two nights previous), there was only the sound of swallows outside.

Two Americans, father and son, were staying at the other bunkhouse. This was where we got our water for the kettle and where we would have our breakfast the following morning. The bathroom was shared with campers and was located outside. Its floor could get quite muddy but was otherwise okay. It was just a struggle to put my boots back on to simply go to the toilet or brush my teeth. Ironically the older American was disappointed to find their bathroom was downstairs rather than upstairs. At least he didn’t need to go outside…

We got an Indian takeaway that night, and as it was sunny and warm, ate outside on the bench with the ginger farm cat joining us. He didn’t get any titbits though! The farm was remote, and it was very pleasant to sit out in the middle of nowhere with just the farmhouse, bunkhouses, and camper vans for company for miles around.

Following Hadrian’s Footsteps – Day One Sunday, June 1

Preston to Heddon-on-the-Wall

We woke at 6am and by 7.38am we were waiting at the bus stop. Our first concern of the day – will the bus turn up? It did. And the 8.50am train was on time. A change at Manchester Victoria and we were on the train to Newcastle which seemed to get busier as we went on. Passing Leeds, York, Darlington and Durham and the sights passed us by, Durham Cathedral and Castle, Angel of the North…

At 12.15pm, we arrived in Newcastle and headed straight to the Metro. It would have been interesting to take a look around Newcastle but alas, we had a tight schedule. Taking the Metro was as easy as the London tube, although our second tube was a wait of at least 15 minutes, maybe because it was Sunday. But patience is a virture (as we would find on so many occasions of our adventure), and after a short journey on the Metro we arrived at Wallsend, complete with Latin signs. Segedunum Museum was a mere five-minute walk and it was well sign-posted (thank goodness!) Compared with the ancient ruins we would later encounter, Segedunum was a modern building complete with a glass dome at the top. No time to look around but a quick toilet stop and purchase of a couple of postcards and the all-important Hadrian’s Wall Passport and we were back out where we had our first encounter with fellow hikers who had just finished the walk.

Segedunum does not appear to have much, if any, ancient history, yet look past the Swan Hunter shipyard and cranes, look a little closer and Roman history will start peeking out. A barren piece of waste ground turns out to be the site of the Roman fort, a small piece of Roman wall can be spotted amid the modern scenery…

So began our marathon walk along a disused train line. In a way it reminded me of Preston’s Guild Wheel, a bit of dodging and diving the bikes as they go thundering past, a post-industrial landscape which has been slightly ‘prettified’ with greenery but always with markers hinting at its not so distant past. Walking alongside the river, a sign warned of chemicals leaked into the water by the local factory. The industrial scene transformed into pleasant residential areas and marinas, before we approached the seven bridges of Newcastle. A bustling Sunday market held us up with slow-moving pedestrian traffic but also gave us an opportunity for a bite to eat. After one dodgy-looking hot dog for Simon and one dodgy-looking bacon roll for me (and a Fanta), we carried on, passing the sights of riverside Newcastle. The hustle and bustle turned into a quieter suburb of Elswick where anglers hoped for fish (had they not read the earlier warning?) At this point we turned inland where we encountered a main road (and our first ‘are we going the right way?’ moment) car salesrooms, a brown belt park boasting many varieties of butterflies, a disused railway line near a housing estate and an urban park. I had read of fellow walkers being intimidated by youths, but although there were small groups of young people chatting amongst themselves we were not chased or insulted. Our travails in the urban suburbs gave way to a more rural-looking scene as we once again trekked along the waterside, passing The Boathouse pub (how tempting a cool glass of lemonade would be!) as we ventured into a nature park. We kept seeing a sign saying Wylton was four miles away but these four miles never went down! As we walked along the Wylton Waggonway, we met a dog walker who pointed up to a hill where, he said, at the top was Heddon. Well, at least we could see it now, but a hill…And then he added ‘it’s a steep hill.’ Oh, well. Once we get up that hill… We trudged on wearily. We plodded on through a golf course, asking a jogger for directions, then up a steep forested path. A gate led to three houses (why couldn’t one of these have been our bunkhouse?), then along a road where we could see the sign saying Houghton North Farm. What beautiful words! At the outbuilding, the landlady gave us a key and showed us where the room was. It was basic, a room with two bunk beds, sink and two chairs. A shared bathroom was along the corridor, as was a TV room, and a kitchen/dining room. After the 15-mile slog this was luxury. Taking my boots off was even more luxurious. We ordered a pizza takeaway from the comforts of the kitchen, and drank tea. We met a group of Navy men who were also doing the walk. Their first day of five and they were as tired as we, then again they also carried tents and walked an extra mile from a hostel near Newcastle. My last thought before bed? I hope my feet will be able to walk the distance tomorrow…

Following Hadrian’s footsteps – Day Two Monday, June 2

Heddon-on-the-Wall to Corbridge

A good start to the day as first, I could still walk and second, our continental breakfast turned out to include an egg which was a happy surprise. The landlady, who was not wearing her glasses, thought Simon brave for walking through Newcastle with a T-shirt displaying the word Conservative until he pointed out the word was actually Conservation.

Two groups of walkers strode out ahead of us, we kept passing and then they would overtake us and we would pass them again. Today we saw our second Roman Fort (after Segedunum), Rudchester Fort. It looks like a field but a sign explains it is an unexcavated Roman fort. Passing Whittle Dene Reservoir, a peaceful place with picnic benches, we then came across archaeologists digging in two sites.

We stamped our Wall passports at Robin Hood Inn, but as they weren’t serving food at that time we wandered over to the Vallum Tearooms opposite where we had a cup of tea. A couple at the next table told us they had walked the wall last year. The woman gained four blisters and the man (as well as being chased by a cow in a field) lost his toenails. At this point of the journey it seemed a tad far-fetched but as the adventure continued not so much…

If day one was a city and suburb river stroll, this was more of a ramble through farmland. In one field we saw the vallum (Roman man-made ditches preceding the wall) for the first time. Where was the wall itself? The stones were mostly in the buildings nearby.

It was at this time that I realised my feet were hurting. Surely I did not have a blister on my second day of walking? Several fields later and we finally took the detour from the wall to Corbridge. At a fairytale hamlet, complete with private castle and only a couple of large houses, we travelled onwards past another castle, this time English Heritage owned but sadly shut that day, through more fields, woods and under a road bridge, past two striking pottery kilns from the 1800s and into the little town of Corbridge. A wander round the picturesque town, much-needed blister-plaster purchase in Boots, a map and postcards obtained in the tourist information centre and joy, a big chocolate cake for £4 in a bakery. Well, you’ve got to replace lost calories haven’t you? Norgate B&B, on a residential street, was thankfully just a 10-minute walk away and we arrived just before 5pm. Just enough time to make the Corbridge Roman fort and museum, another 10 minutes away. Now I was glad we had made the detour, walking around the ancient town remains with its granaries and so on was like walking through a mini Pompeii and the museum was packed with finds including the Corbridge Lion. The only pity was that we didn’t have more time to wander round but we got a good insight into Corbridge. Taking the landlord’s advice, we ate in the Black Bull, a popular, traditional pub by the looks of it.

That evening I put on the first plasters.

Following Hadrian’s footsteps … Before

Okay, so maybe some people have done bigger and more thrilling things during their gap year, but Hadrian’s Wall in Northumberland has always intrigued me. The history, the scenery, the 84 miles of walking… Hmm, 84 miles. I’ve never done a full long distance trail before and I’m not the fittest on the planet. Still what’s a sabbatical without some kind of challenge? And it’s not like I’m trying to walk across the world on foot. Just across the width of Britain. Easy right?! Ahh, not so.

My friend Simon who was walking the wall alongside me was Mr Motivator. A text would arrive on a regular basis with a new suggestion about organisation or getting my strength and fitness up. At the time I was beginning to find it slightly irritating. But by the end I realised it was just as well he was super-organised (although he did gain the nickname Sergeant Major!) A practical companion is a valuable friend to have on these kind of adventures.

Organising the walk was nothing like sorting out a holiday. Everything had its own convoluted difficulties. Six weeks beforehand we finalised the route, how many miles we would walk each day, what village we would stop off for the night, how long the trek would take. Some people do it in four days but we wanted to learn about the Romans, take a rest day in Carlisle, and yes, enjoy it. So eight days was the aim.

One month before, I rang up B&Bs and bunkhouses at each designated stop off point. Camping was out for the sake of our backs, backpacks were heavy enough. There was a sense of urgency when booking. What if this B&B was full and there were no others around? Or if they were all full? Some websites hint at booking early. But after one week I had sorted out accommodation at two bunkhouses and five B&Bs.

One month before, I started my training programme in earnest. I had done rambles previously but this was the real thing. I walked up two Yorkshire peaks with Simon (on one day) and a ramble up Kinder Scout. Both of which left me rather tired but I did see a mountain hare for the first time. I went on more sedate canal rambles with my dad and my friend Caroline. I explored Preston’s Guild Wheel, taking the path to Brockholes nature reserve and to the city centre, and took on a one-hour round-the-block route to Ladywell shrine near my house. Even when I went to Ireland on holiday, there were one-hour up-hill rambles to Loughcrew Cairns and Slane Hill. On local treks, I took my smaller rucksack and filled it with books to help prepare for the weight.

But one-hour rambles, even three-hour walks here and there, aren’t the same thing as 12 to 18-mile walks on a daily basis. As I later found.