After a delicious and filling breakfast we set off finally in search of a 2000 year old wall which, I want to see simply because it exists and I can. Following James’ directions through fairly busy morning traffic, Glenn suddenly points out the Angel of the North. ‘Oh no’ I cry, I had wanted to stop and see that but had neglected to put it in the official itinerary. As we were very much in the wrong lane to make a diversion, we had to make do with some quick shots from the car…still looks pretty cool huh. Also below is a beautiful bridge we drove over just before our first stop and had to stop and take pics. It was so classically English.
The drive went very well; just one wrong turn, and we were at ‘Chesters Roman Fort’. This Roman fort, the best preserved example of such a fort in Britain (English Heritage), built during the construction of the wall, covers an enormous area. A chat with the staff member revealed one possible answer to what has become Glenn’s most frequently asked question ‘How did all the dirt get on top’. In this instance, in the 17thC, the landowner decided he no longer wanted to see a derelict Roman fort and had it landscaped over. When his son inherited, he excavated out again for all the world to see. There is a commandant’s house, headquarters, four gatehouses and the bath house which stands well over head height in many places. You can also look out over the river and see the bridge abutment that took the wall across the North Tyne which, looks like it had much more water flowing down it back in Roman times.
The museum was awesome also; the ancient dust caught in my throat as I looked at sculptures, milestones, a complete grain grinder (millstone?) along with delicate metal jewellery, glass bottles and all manner of things that it is easy to assume was far too advanced for these peoples but, it has come to our attention that the advancement of technology has been occurring for tens of thousands of years and not a few hundred as we often think. Chesters far surpassed anything we expected and on leaving we were shocked to find we had been wandering (once again alone) around the ancient site for over an hour.
A quick check of the itinerary showed we were to stop next at ‘Housteads Fort’ a few miles west. I chose this one because English Heritage says it ‘Stands high on the wild Whinn Sill escarpment, flanked by dramatic stretches of the wall’. Well, this might be the case, but, when the cloud is so low you can barely see the road ahead of you, the view is probably going to be a disappointment, so given that it involved a strenuous walk uphill and EH didn’t provide free car parking, we decided to give this one a miss. Next on the list; Winshields wall ‘The highest point on the wall…with spectacular views’ Okay, we knew we weren’t getting the views but we went anyway and were glad we did. An old quarry with lovely lake greets you as you get out the car, after you have gone the wrong way and been confronted with a dozen sheep all standing at the cattle grid pleading with you to get them across. The quarry was dug right through the path of the wall, so it stops rather spectacularly at the highest point. Although we missed the spectacular view, what we had certainly gave us atmosphere and as you can see, clear enough range to see the wall as it disappeared into the distance.
‘Walltown Crags’ was next on the list but when we found the car park, the fog was too thick to even know which direction to walk in so I snapped some eerie but beautiful pics from the area and we set off toward the Yorkshire Dales, chosen for a waterfall and a viaduct.
We were caught by surprise as we navigated the winding road that most of the time was one car thin and snaking along the top of the dales. At times it took your breath away as you rounded a bend to see the road sweep suddenly to the right and the space in front of you become a sheer drop hundreds of metres down.
After a most enjoyable scenic drive, we came upon ‘The Buttertubs’. This is a waterfall/chasm formed by the acid eroding the ground. At first glance it looks like the drop is endless and that Glenn walking out onto the rock towers is a rather dangerous thing to do. However, upon closer inspection, were he to fall, it would have involved more of a breakage than a death, so I took the plunge and joined him in the ‘Do not pass this point’ area. It was a unique natural phenomenon and thoroughly enjoyed by all.
Much winding road later, a minute after I have claimed we must have missed the turn off to the Ribblehead viaduct, it appears; huge, magnificent and again above our expectations. We parked the car and started our long walk to the base. A short distance down the track, Glenn asks if I mind taking a short cut across the grass; sure, what harm could it do. A few minutes into our grassy walk, we find out the answer to this; it is swamp. Our feet are squelching with every step. Mine are becoming so cold I am sure my new boots are filling with water. Glenn’s sandshoes are definitely filling with water and I have begun a wild dash back to the track, hoping that I don’t suddenly sink up to my knees in ancient swamp water. I don’t, and, my new boots have withstood the test and my feet are cold but dry. As the laughter dies down, the amazing structure looms upon us and all we can do is stand in awe. Many photo’s later, after being lucky enough to snap a very modern train on this very old viaduct and, getting Glenn to try and pet a sheep, we reluctantly draw ourselves away and begin the walk, along the track! back to the car.
It was 7.10 when we got home and the house was cold and dark but we had had another wonderful day in England experiencing things we have only ever dreamed of. And thus endeth this post.
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