The Lady and the Tramp

So we did it. I now have the badge to prove it but decided to forgo the t-shirt. There was a point today when I wanted to throttle Hadrian or rather the people who insist that his Wall extended beyond Carlisle, especially as there has been NO sight of it for more than 24 hours. Instead the powers that be have somehow convinced the people who certify the National Trails that it extended to the far west coast and that if some of the Wall was dead straight, so the route to Bowness on Solway, in the back of beyond, must be as straight as possible. Which is all very well but when it's 30 degrees, your feet hurt and all you want to do is finish then, let me tell you, straight and flat is no fun*.

Not easy to tell but this stretch of Tarmac across the marshes must have been 4 miles long. No shade, nothing to break the monotony, in other words seemingly interminable. *This is the tramp, by the way. It's not a reference to HRH however hot and sweaty he looked - poor thing.

There were a couple of points of interest along the way however. We stopped for lunch on a wall in a graveyard (we sure know how to live!) Actually it was the only place we could find with any shade. It was a tiny church, no benches, nothing very remarkable - on the surface.

We were rather surprised therefore to see a series of stone plaques set into the grass one of which referenced the dedication by the Duke of Gloucester on a visit in 2014 which piqued our interest. Furthermore we'd been spotted by a couple of local parishioners who were clearly there on official business, and could see how hot we were. The lady offered us a cup of tea! Very sweet. I think if she had been offering pistachio ice cream HRH might have divorced me and married her on the spot. As it was we declined but took her up on her other suggestion to pop in and take in the cool of the tower. Which is when it struck us. The church has received lottery funding to restore it and encourage visitors. Why? Because the church is built from Wall stone, and because it was here, in Burgh by Sands, that the body of King Edward I who died of dysentery whilst waiting to cross the Solway Firth in 1307 to take on Robert the Bruce, was taken to lie in state for two weeks before being moved to Westminster Abbey for burial! 

Edward I, looking a little healthier than when he met his sad end.

The other highlight of the day, apart from The End, was meeting the young woman working behind the bar in the pub. As the daughter of the new-ish landlord and lady she has a day job but is helping out in this busy season for bed and board from her folks. Nothing too remarkable there. What impressed us was that she is herself going to walk The Wall in a few weeks' time "because she feels someone in the family should be able to relate to all their customers". Too right. But perhaps more amusing, she is such an unlikely looking long-distance walker and with no experience, that one of her doubtful supporters has offered, if she makes it as far as Port Carlisle, to walk the last mile with her in a mankini! And if, for no other reason than this, I think she'll make it. What great publicity for her parents' new venture for, I can assure you, this will make the local paper!

And so to close another chapter in my Ramblings. I shall shortly be putting my fresh clutch of blisters, my "I've walked the Wall" badge, and my huge self-satisfied smile to bed. Thank you for coming on the journey with me. 

Feat or Folly?

Penultimate day's walking now complete, we have arrived in Carlisle and are looking forward to exploring this evening. The weather has been very much on our side today: heaps cooler, with a slight breeze, and no rain save for the residue of an overnight downpour making the grass squeak under our boots. The terrain has now switched too, from craggy, rocky and undulating to flat field footpaths but for all that it was easier underfoot this made for rather unremarkable and somewhat unmemorable miles. In fact it was only on reaching the outskirts of Carlisle that HRH spotted something curious which, on checking into our B&B, had me reaching for Google. 

Our guide book just says 'Folly in field' on the path that traces round the back of the small village of Rickerby, and a note to say that the whole hamlet "with all it's towers and turrets, resembles one enormous Victorian folly". Certainly we spotted an odd 'totem pole' carving in a tall tree in someone's garden and a sign on a gate indicating 'Study - Quiet!' that would bear this out.

Actually Google wasn't much help. All it could add was that the stone tower was built by an eccentric man with a very eccentric name - George Head Head! 

So what is the definition of a folly that makes it not just a feat of construction? 

Definition: noun

A costly ornamental building with no practical purpose, especially a tower or mock-Gothic ruin built in a large garden or park.

I guess the key to this then is 'with no practical purpose' and of course seeing the word folly in the guide made me think instantly of the other meaning:

Lack of good sense; foolishness, "an act of sheer folly"

I have to admit I commit to these long distance walks and then spend weeks if not months doubting why I was so foolish. What is the 'real purpose' of walking from one end of something to the other? Where is the 'good sense' in spending a week of my holiday getting up earlier each day than I do when I'm working, waking up stiff and achy, and risking sore places in places I don't usually use, but when it comes down to it it's the sense of achievement that does it. I like being able to say I've done it. I like too seeing places in our beautiful country that are inaccessible by car. I like knowing my body is being pumped full of fresh air day after day, I even quite like the daily workout. Sadly this time I've been blighted by blisters which has increased the challenge and taken the edge off the enjoyment a little. But nevertheless I'll be feeling great tomorrow  evening when the feat is done and the folly forgotten. Wish me luck ... :-)

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Grand Designs

Another 10 miles under our belt today. The heat made for a slightly sleepy slog but there was still no denying that the countryside up here in't North is breathtaking. We crossed over at some point from Northumberland into Cumbria, and had lunch overlooking a spectacular valley with the Pennines ahead in the distance and the Cumbrian hills visible way off through the heat-haze to the South-West. Makes you feel good to be alive. 

Hadrian's grand design has definitely petered out gradually as the day has gone on and since early afternoon has barely made an appearance. Birdoswald fort was quite a hit but, if I'm honest, it was mostly because we were able to get a cup of tea, visit the 'facilities' and to watch the swallow-cam rather than study another 2-foot high outline of Roman living quarters similar to many others we've now seen. If that sounds dismissive of the ancient historical sites I apologise but it really was too hot today to be anything other than intent on getting to the end of the stage. Instead we amused ourselves intermittently with our own grand design: the perfect hikers' B&B. 

Having stayed in quite a few now over the years we feel reasonably qualified to say what works and what can sometimes definitely be lacking. First the essentials (HRH's list might be in a different order of priority but nevertheless we are largely in agreement):

Bathroom  ideally with bath and shower (bath with shower satisfactory) and Radox - for soaking, if so inclined, and decent water pressure. That shower at the end of the day before dinner and again to refresh stiff muscles in the morning is priceless.

No silly small bottles of shampoo etc. thank you. Give us a large bottle - we won't nick it, we just can't bear to see all those half-empty mini bottles going to landfill and they're no use to us at home. Big towels. Enough said. 

Bedroom big enough to open, leave open and still walk around two full sized suitcases please without stubbing toes or having to bend down to rummage through. Oh, and don't forget we have a back-pack each too. We'd like somewhere to put them as well if you don't mind. 

Less important but still desirable would be somewhere in the downstairs lobby to leave our boots. Given that we're usually quite ready to kick them off as soon as we arrive and how we're sure you'd rather not have us tramp through your establishment in muddy footwear please could you provide a rack and somewhere to sit in the hallway the following morning to put them back on? 

Fresh milk - not those horrid UHT offerings. I'll even come and get it from your kitchen in a little jug if you like, and semi-skimmed will do. We're not that fussy.

Tea, coffee (including decaf, definitely) and a kettle that fits under the bloomin' tap! Biscuits (in date) would be nice but are not a deal-breaker. 

Nice comfy bed with appropriate weight duvet please. It's the summer! We don't need 13 togs thanks. Lamp either side because one of us reads (or writes) late and the other doesn't. And a few more plug sockets would be good please, for the chargers. 

Wifi and password written down somewhere, without having to ask.  

Oh, and for breakfast - fresh fruit, fresh eggs (from the chickens we'd keep naturally), fresh bread baked on a timer so THAT would be the first thing you smell in the morning, not the fry-up, home-made jam, granola and Radio 2 playing quietly in the background. And bacon sandwiches, as standard! 

What we don't need: bedside radio alarmclocks! (who uses them anyway these days?), decorative fur throws OR millions of brochures for places local to visit.

So there you have it. If WE were going to run a hikers B&B you know what you can expect. Well it kept us sane when the thermometer rose way above the norm.

But it was only a design. Never reality. Couldn't stand all those picky customers ;-) 

A demain x

Foot Faffing

When you're hiking these long distances 

Your feet are like Crown Jewels

So much more than semi-precious

To be ignored only by fools

When you shop for boots and socks

You find you're gulping at the price

But it's really so important 

In the end you don't think twice

So when the time comes to get ready

At the start of each new day

It's the brave man who will simply

Shove them on, get underway

No, the fact is now the hard work starts

It's time to take precautions 

So out come all the creams and stuff

In staggering proportions! 

Each one has his own routine

My hubby favours just 

A slick all round with Compeed stick.

Not me - it's all or bust!

I should explain that things are worse

Since picking up a blister

So now it takes me just a little

Longer than my Mr.

And I warn you, it's not sexy 

Best to foot-faff on your own

Cos otherwise your other half 

Might choose one to disown.

First out comes the Sudocrem

(Yes, that stuff for baby's bum)

It's well known as a barrier

And to moisturise, and numb!

Next there's toe protectors

(These are recently acquired)

For ancient corns or sore spots

Or wherever is required

I've even now discovered

Ones that slip on like a hat

For cosseting your toe-ends

Now what'd'you think of that?!

So once these gel-filled wonders

Are held in place, secure

Then it's over to the foot-fleece

To be absolutely sure.

You tease a little off 

Wind it round or tuck between 

Till you've more 'hair' than a hobbit

And they're looking quite obscene!

And finally, the plaster

For the blister, see, in case.

But it has to be a special one

Big enough to see from space!

And when that's done you breathe

A sigh of readiness, at last

Those socks you paid so much for

Can begin to join the cast

Of this flipping faffing drama

By which time we're both in stitches

But at least I won't be hobbling 

(That is, barring any hitches).

And so the boots go on 

With half a chemist-load within

Lord, it's a wonder they still fit!

Now let the walking day begin.