24th June 2005 – Lake District, Carlisle, Gretna Green and Hadrian’s Wall
It was Friday and already we had made it to the north-east of England, two days ahead of schedule. Things were going well indeed. We took a couple of hours to have a look around the nearly Lake Windermere (the largest of all the Lakes in the District), managing to find a pathway that led down to the lakeside. For a lake, the water was extremely calm and that was great – you could see the light up and down movement, the reflections of the opposite hillside. A few boats passed and only after a few minutes did their waves and wake reach us – and when they did, they seemed quite dramatic compared with the lake’s usual calmness. Nav was trying to step-stones, but failed on a couple of occasions.
Leaving the Lakes, we headed north to leave England behind and enter Scotland to visit Gretna Green. However, we made a stop-off at Carlisle – parked up outside of town and walked the rest. We looked around the street we had parked – the houses were derelict and next to nobody walking around. It turns out that only last month, Carlisle had suffered a flooding and many, many house surrounding the river (and even some further away) had gotten flooded or experienced the damp that comes with it. It was a sorry site but some of the houses had decorators and builders refurbishing them – I’d imagine that a lot of such workers would have moved up north to get a bit of business.
Whilst in town, we encountered a jobless person doing things you find in Covent Garden in London. Nav said that he respected him because of his lack of trying of finding a proper job. I juxtaposed him against David Blane (as both stand on podium and get attention and money), but Nav argued that “If he [Blane] didn’t go around saying ‘Hi, I’m a cock’ (acting as Blane on TV), then I would respect him” – I suppose he has a point.
We left Carlisle and headed off to Scotland. Gretna Green is one of the closest towns to the England-Scotland border. We found the blacksmiths noted in Morton’s book, had a visit and found it to be a tourist attraction – in fact, it was one when Morton visited so we weren’t expecting too much. Shops, restaurants and the rest of it were dotted around in this small area of attraction and nothing else of interest. I did, however, manage to hear the Scottish accent through the sentence “Ach, this bloody machine” as said by a cashier person in one of the shops selling picnic hampers.
It had started to drizzle – our first experience of rain during the day since we started (the only other time was at night in Weymoutth). We left Gretna and drove back towards Carlisle and then towards a campsite near the Hadrian’s Wall. However, on a spur of the moment, Nav decided to head towards Hadrian’s Wall and we drove into Walltown car park.
It was coming up to 7pm and the car park was near empty. We headed in some random direction and manage to find nothing of interest, so we found a map in one of the leaflets and knew where to go. We found a part of Hadrian’s Wall on a hill edge (half of the hill had fallen away over the years) and we walked on top of it. It varied in height at times but was about a metre high – it originally stood at between 2 to 3 metres – and when we reached the end of the partial Wall, we fully understood why they took the effort to build it up a hill and along an edge: you could see for miles. The enemy would have had no chance at all of sneaking up to the wall, and if they did they had the Wall to contend with.
We walked back to the car and headed east towards Hexham (Northumberland) in search of a campsite. Driving out of the Northumberland National Park, Nav manage to reach the fastest speed he had ever driven before on a B-road, and boy, was it fast. And was the road hilly too, as we climbed and jumped, feeling the G-forces (or the lack of). It was good fun, but kids, don’t try this at home – reckless driving is bad (for the car, at least).
I had found one campsite in a booklet (from an info-box at Walltown) but we couldn’t find it, and when we drove into a Caravan Rally (those sad, sad people) and spoke with one of the people, he said that he had never heard of it. He told us of another campsite in his strong Northern accent (it made sense at the time, but trying to remember anything he said just repeated in my head as white noise…) and so we set off south to this site. We found it and talked to the proprietor but he told us that his tent site was full (he also seemed incredibly moody, too).
I thought we’d be a bit buggered at that point, but he told us that we could camp in the village green for one night only. Ah-ha!! This confirmed Nav’s suspicion that people can camp in public/common grounds. So we headed back north to Wall (a town, not Hadrian’s Wall) and found the green. Ever since Gretna, the rain had not let off so slowly, all the ground was getting wet – it was going to get messy.
Once we arrived and parked up, we saw a group of ramblers seeking out a good spot on the green also. I chatted with them about the rules of camping on common ground (allowed to camp for 24hrs only and then you must move on) – they sounded southern, telling me that they weren’t from these parts. They seemed like a jolly group.
The rain kept going as we tented up under the partial cover of some trees. “This is what it’s all about” said Nav, and I suppose he was right – camping for 12 rainless nights was taken for granted, but I think that we learn something each time we camp. Tonight’s lesson could have been costly: Nav threw his bag into the porch of the tent and after a long while, I opened the porch door and found his bag lying in a small pool of rain water – his laptop was inside! Luckily, it still worked and I found out the reason for the pool; the porch portion of the outer tent overhang the porch and so the rain dripped down onto the porch, Nav’s bag made the well for the rain to fall into. A tip for everyone, enjoy.
-- steven
Leaving the Lakes, we headed north to leave England behind and enter Scotland to visit Gretna Green. However, we made a stop-off at Carlisle – parked up outside of town and walked the rest. We looked around the street we had parked – the houses were derelict and next to nobody walking around. It turns out that only last month, Carlisle had suffered a flooding and many, many house surrounding the river (and even some further away) had gotten flooded or experienced the damp that comes with it. It was a sorry site but some of the houses had decorators and builders refurbishing them – I’d imagine that a lot of such workers would have moved up north to get a bit of business.
Whilst in town, we encountered a jobless person doing things you find in Covent Garden in London. Nav said that he respected him because of his lack of trying of finding a proper job. I juxtaposed him against David Blane (as both stand on podium and get attention and money), but Nav argued that “If he [Blane] didn’t go around saying ‘Hi, I’m a cock’ (acting as Blane on TV), then I would respect him” – I suppose he has a point.
We left Carlisle and headed off to Scotland. Gretna Green is one of the closest towns to the England-Scotland border. We found the blacksmiths noted in Morton’s book, had a visit and found it to be a tourist attraction – in fact, it was one when Morton visited so we weren’t expecting too much. Shops, restaurants and the rest of it were dotted around in this small area of attraction and nothing else of interest. I did, however, manage to hear the Scottish accent through the sentence “Ach, this bloody machine” as said by a cashier person in one of the shops selling picnic hampers.
It had started to drizzle – our first experience of rain during the day since we started (the only other time was at night in Weymoutth). We left Gretna and drove back towards Carlisle and then towards a campsite near the Hadrian’s Wall. However, on a spur of the moment, Nav decided to head towards Hadrian’s Wall and we drove into Walltown car park.
It was coming up to 7pm and the car park was near empty. We headed in some random direction and manage to find nothing of interest, so we found a map in one of the leaflets and knew where to go. We found a part of Hadrian’s Wall on a hill edge (half of the hill had fallen away over the years) and we walked on top of it. It varied in height at times but was about a metre high – it originally stood at between 2 to 3 metres – and when we reached the end of the partial Wall, we fully understood why they took the effort to build it up a hill and along an edge: you could see for miles. The enemy would have had no chance at all of sneaking up to the wall, and if they did they had the Wall to contend with.
We walked back to the car and headed east towards Hexham (Northumberland) in search of a campsite. Driving out of the Northumberland National Park, Nav manage to reach the fastest speed he had ever driven before on a B-road, and boy, was it fast. And was the road hilly too, as we climbed and jumped, feeling the G-forces (or the lack of). It was good fun, but kids, don’t try this at home – reckless driving is bad (for the car, at least).
I had found one campsite in a booklet (from an info-box at Walltown) but we couldn’t find it, and when we drove into a Caravan Rally (those sad, sad people) and spoke with one of the people, he said that he had never heard of it. He told us of another campsite in his strong Northern accent (it made sense at the time, but trying to remember anything he said just repeated in my head as white noise…) and so we set off south to this site. We found it and talked to the proprietor but he told us that his tent site was full (he also seemed incredibly moody, too).
I thought we’d be a bit buggered at that point, but he told us that we could camp in the village green for one night only. Ah-ha!! This confirmed Nav’s suspicion that people can camp in public/common grounds. So we headed back north to Wall (a town, not Hadrian’s Wall) and found the green. Ever since Gretna, the rain had not let off so slowly, all the ground was getting wet – it was going to get messy.
Once we arrived and parked up, we saw a group of ramblers seeking out a good spot on the green also. I chatted with them about the rules of camping on common ground (allowed to camp for 24hrs only and then you must move on) – they sounded southern, telling me that they weren’t from these parts. They seemed like a jolly group.
The rain kept going as we tented up under the partial cover of some trees. “This is what it’s all about” said Nav, and I suppose he was right – camping for 12 rainless nights was taken for granted, but I think that we learn something each time we camp. Tonight’s lesson could have been costly: Nav threw his bag into the porch of the tent and after a long while, I opened the porch door and found his bag lying in a small pool of rain water – his laptop was inside! Luckily, it still worked and I found out the reason for the pool; the porch portion of the outer tent overhang the porch and so the rain dripped down onto the porch, Nav’s bag made the well for the rain to fall into. A tip for everyone, enjoy.
-- steven
posted by Steven | 4:49 pm
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