HWW Day 3 – Walton to Cawfields

Not the most auspicious start as I head off in entirely the wrong direction, soon realising my error but doing a full circle back to the entrance to Florries. I tried to look nonchalantly as if it had always been my plan to explore the surroundings but it didn’t matter as no one else was about.

It started to rain lightly for the hour but it was at least a downhill start to the beginning.

I made notes which now seem rather vague.

I heard an owl. It was a hoot.

I climbed up to Hare Hill. It was supposed to be the first section of the wall proper but it was a fake.

I had a cup of tomato soup in a shelter shed of which there were several along the path. Which was very welcome in conditions which were increasingly cold and wet.

I enjoyed the turrets of the mile houses along the path. This is where the proper wall starts.

I arrived at Birdoswald a Roman fort along the way and walked inside and saw Theresa sheltering from the rain.

I went in search of the Roman winkie on the wall and found it. Selfie opportunity. One dick in front of another….

An impressive iron bridge followed, and more Roman fortifications to boot. I take a chunk of the wall I think, just a small one. I’m not sure it is of the wall, but hey.

By now I’m in heavy rain, testing the gear and the patience.

My patience was stretched further in Gisdale by lousy way marking and the embarrassment of having to walk back and greet the same lady again, pretending not to have been lost. That’s the second time today. She wasn’t fooled!

I come across yet another closed pub, outside which I shelter and have my packed lunch.

Nearby the sheep are demonstrating the principle that “ewe snooze ewe lose”

I trip over the strawberries on a path that shouldn’t be going through someone’s garden but is.

I head up to the ruined castle, observing that it wasn’t just me getting lost today as two couples are seen arguing about the route to take. “We are just off” said the school teacher, obviously spotting my look of horror at the wave of juveniles coming towards me.

I meet a local monitor of the path and her spaniel and express my gratitude for the way things were in order, prior to slinging up the hill to the high point with another torrent of noisy nosy infants cascading down the slopes towards me.

Then a magnificent section of the wall follows – what the whole thing is about.

This is where my notes stop. I hope the video does a better job describing the day….

I stayed in Cawfields in a lovely B&B and went to the Milecastle Inn in the evening where I enjoyed a chat with some of the locals including a few farmers.

HWW Day 2 – Carlisle to Walton

I left the Warwick Lodge at 10 am so that I both didn’t get to Walton too early but also made the most of the clear patch in the weather between 10 and 12. I only have 11 miles to do today – possibly a bit short but didn’t want to stretch it too far on my second day of walking. It takes me about 10 minutes to rejoin the path and then I wend my way through Rickerby Park meeting a couple of spaniels on the way.

It was windy but still warm enough for me just to walk in my base layer, my rain jacket and my north face walking trousers too of course. A long stretch walking along the side of the road eventually carries me over the M6 motorway. I was happy to be walking rather than stuck down there in a metal box on wheels.

I arrived at Linstock village which is quite sweet but blighted by the noise of the M6 nearby. A rest stop for walkers under the shelter barn house beckoned but I pressed on.

Crosby on Eden is a beautiful little village but a shame that the Stag Inn at its centre is now closed. I passed High Castle Farm with its self service snack bar and neglected looking Palm Springs spa. I am meeting lots of walkers today coming east to west. Just after a wild section with gorse and lots of cows, two collies came and frightened me by barking and running at and around me as I passed a run down farm. Luckily the local postman came to my rescue.

To recover my nerves I stopped for pot Noodles in a snack bar in Newtown where I meet the owner, a welsh ex military man with a Geordie accent who was very sociable.

Walking on I caught up with Patrick the frenchman, who I had seen earlier when he was putting on his cape.

He must’ve wondered how I knew with such accuracy that the rain was going to start an hour and how I knew it was going to stop in 20 minutes. The benefits of Dark Sky weather app making me look like a wizard!

I don’t have a spare pair of specs now after I’ve lose them out of my pocket in this stretch possibly while talking to Patrick.

I reach Walton at chinese dentist (tooth hurty – 2.30) which was 90 minutes before I can check in to Florries. So I take the advice on the sign and go up to the village hall for tea and a flapjack. I chat to the locals for an hour or so before going outside to sit by the large green (the largest in Cumbria?) and wondered where the other 300 village inhabitants were.

Not in church as I discovered when I explored it. By this time Florries was open for business and Rebecca checked me in to my one bedroom four bunk accommodation that was spotlessly clean with a great view out to fields and two donkeys in the background.

After a shower and a change I met the three others for dinner – Ghandi, Gates and Ben. All very good company. A hedgehog scampered past outside. We went out to investigate but couldn’t see it, only a cat and an english springer who tore up and down like a mad thing.

Lamb tagine and a local bottle of beer went down well and we ambled up the couple of hundred metres to the Old Vicarage Pub where Graham welcomed us and we enjoyed a pint and a half of his local brew, which had a slightly smoky petroleum accent. Good chats ensued with these three well traveled and friendly ex IT specialists who were at Southampton university together, all now retired in their mid to late 50s. IT must pay well! 8 of them go up to the lakes every year in September so I extended an invite to CoL to them but not sure they’ll take it up.

Back to Florries for 9.15 and asleep by 10. Big day tomorrow!

HWW Day 1 – Bowness on Solway to Carlisle

I was staying at the Warwick Lodge in Carlisle – not central but not far out of town. I had come up on the train the previous day and was poised to take the bus to the start of the Hadrian’s Way Walk – 900 years after the wall had been commissioned. I figured I could book two nights accommodation in Carlisle and that would be easier and more cost effective than trying to find somewhere in Bowness on Solway.

After getting to Carlisle at 11.50 on a very busy train, having met Rosie the border terrier, I couldn’t help the chap in front of me who left his wallet on the train as by the time I noticed he had got off and so all I could do was hand it to the conductor.

I walked to the lodge, left my bags and headed back into town, avoiding several dodgy looking pubs and settling in to the Kings Head for an excellent Scampi and two pints of even more excellent Entwistle Bitter. I met and engaged with the ex mayor of Rochester, that’s the one in Yorkshire not in Kent.

On the way back I passed the lodge to check out the Beehive and the Rugby Club – both possibly worth a visit later. I tried to get into the Italian restaurant but it was surprisingly fully booked, so I ended up in Andalusia for tapas – plenty of it and had to take a doggie bag back with my halloumi. I was in bed and sleeping by 9.30 – it had been a long day.

At 7.30am I had a very nice big breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon, I did some emails and left at 8.45 to go into town to draw cash. 

On arrival at the bus garage there was a group of 10 healthy looking 60 something year old Flemish Belgians on their sixth and last day of the walk – they had gone from east to west. I enjoyed chatting to them and to hear they had enjoyed the while experience with only one hour of rain so far during their week. I say so far, as the forecast looked threatening. 

The 93a bus arrived slightly late just after 9.30. Sadly it stops running in mid June despite being quite full today with the five other HW walkers, myself and the belgians, as well as a handful of locals making a total of around 25 of us on this bus.

It was cloudy but mostly dry on the hour’s trip to Bowness on Solway. Some rain was gathering intensely over the river above Scotland. 

Despite a few diversions, a bus driver who surprisingly didn’t know the route and a very slow road sweeper in the way we made it to Bowness on Solway just after 10.30. 

I got out in front of the pack but they are chasing me down even as I type this.

I was held up briefly along the side of the estuary path by a ruddy faced Geordie who wanted to chat. 

I met Theresa, 50, doing this as her significant birthday challenge. Having done the London marathon, this will be a cinch.  

After a short chat I pressed forward, to encounter a long straight roadside stretch in the rain. 

There were many young bulls loose on the road, some of whom were prancing about energetically. 

I was pleased to be walking with rather than into the prevailing rain and wind! Others coming towards me looked far less comfortable than me with my cap on, hood up and pack cover on. For some reason my right leg got soaked while my left stayed dry…?

Arriving in Burgh by Sands I could confirm that the Greyhound pub was closed both Mondays and Tuesdays. A shame as it would have been the perfect half way stop and just after I passed it there was another heavy shower. I stopped at St Michael’s 12th century church with lots of stones in evidence “borrowed” from the non existent remains of the wall.

After a brief sunny spell it started raining again, and I stopped to shelter in Beaumont, admiring St Mary’s stones and eating my halloumi tapas from the day before. 

“The rain’s  running down inside my waterproof trousers” the pothole fixer complained.

Stretches of road walking followed with the steam coming off the tarmac, it is pretty countryside but unremarkable. 

Sourmilk bridge came and went, I reached the graffiti tunnelled outskirts of Carlisle, followed the river all the way round the north of the city stopping to shelter from the rain again in Bitts Park and enjoyed my orange. 

A lovely wild flower section followed eventually taking my exit from the trail down Lismore Road the ten minutes to the Warwick Lodge. 

After a shower, man made this time, and a cup of tea, I went into town in search of more beer like refreshment which I found in the Griffin.

Having stopped to secure the table in Alexandros greek restaurant I had a couple of pints and wandered back there for a seven pm table right next to three of the walkers that were on the bus. 

We recognised each other and confirmed we were all on a six day schedule although one of their group was only doing three days. 

I enjoyed an excellent taramasalata and moussaka, washed down with a couple of glasses of Chardonnay. It’s almost worth coming to Carlisle just for the greek restaurant! And the Warwick Lodge.

We walkers said farewell, knowing we would see each other in Florries the following night. I wondered if they were going clubbing but they said walking was as much as they could manage!

A restful night and £45 per person per day was good value for this traditional well run hospitality. It’s good to hear my host has been really busy – these sorts of places deserve it.

Glyndŵr’s Way Day 7 – Dylife to Machynlleth

Gradually getting this walk finished, only 10 years after we started!

The video can do the talking. A fabulous stretch – one of my favourites of the walk so far.

15.5 miles. 6 hours. No other people. And a shandy at the end. And a train back to Newtown. Brilliant!