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Published: September 19th 2020
Me, Hadrian's Wall
Northumberland National ParkDear All
Greetings again from London. In this blog entry, I plan to write about my second two full days in the north-east of England whilst based in Newcastle. After my first two days exploring the urban towns and cities of this far corner of England, I planned for my second two days to explore the more rural regions of the area. Firstly a day trip to the absolutely wonderful Holy Island, and secondly a day trip exploring the legendary Hadrian’s Wall.
For a number of years I had wanted to visit such places, both to my mind holding a mystical hold on one’s imagination. And indeed as I explored England’s northernmost county, Northumberland, I found such lands really quite magical and mystical, rugged in beauty and welcoming in spirit. The area felt far-flung and remote, sitting in England’s northernmost corner, almost like the northern version of Cornwall’s Land’s End, as the country borders the even more rugged beauty and vastness of Scotland beyond. It was wonderful, and I very much enjoyed my days there.
So it was on a Monday morning in which I awoke early, to take an 8.42am train from Newcastle heading northwards to England’s
Sycamore Gap
Hadrian's Wall northernmost town, Berwick-upon-Tweed, just over two miles south of the Scottish border, and surprisingly pretty much on the same latitude as Edinburgh and Glasgow, around 50 and 100 miles respectively, to the west. The train continued into Scotland as I disembarked, and gave me an hour to kill before my bus connection to my destination for the day, Holy Island. The day had dawned very wet indeed, and as I arrived at the station, it was absolutely tipping it down outside. Bang went my plan to explore England’s northernmost town as I stood outside the station watching the water coming down. However, with a very short lull in the rain, I decided to take a little walk to the nearby Castle Vale Park, right nextdoor to the station, and my goodness I was glad I did. I hadn’t realised it, as the train crossed the River Tweed and pulled into the station, but we had just crossed one of the most spectacular bridges I have ever seen, the mid-19
th century Royal Border Bridge. From Castle Vale Park there was a really stunning viewpoint looking across to the bridge, and over the River Tweed far down in the valley below. It
Me
Lindisfarne Priory, Holy Island was mesmerising, and I enjoyed a few very contemplative moments enjoying the view, before the rain picked up again and I returned to the station. It was interesting to read on a nearby information board that the bridge represented the final link in the East Coast Railway line that was to finally link England with Scotland, London with Edinburgh, in 1850. It was officially opened by Queen Victoria herself, on her way to her Scottish royal residence Balmoral, spending a mere twelve minutes in total in the town, and only eight minutes at the opening ceremony which was attended by 20,000 local guests. Gosh, they must have been rather disappointed…! I certainly was not, the bridge and the view were amazing, and I happily headed back to the station afterwards to continue my wait for the bus.
Not long after, the 477 bus pulled up, and I believe it was the most infrequent bus I have ever caught. The timetable is decided weeks in advance, and changes constantly, depending on the tide. It also runs only once every other day or so, sometimes daily, sometimes every three days, again, dependent on the tide. That day, the bus was due
to leave Berwick-upon-Tweed at 10.30am, and was due to leave Holy Island for the return journey at 6.30pm, hence my early start for the day. I was the only person to board the bus at the station, and as I approached the driver through the pouring rain, who was standing in the doorway of the bus with a cigarette, he loudly exclaimed to me in a strong Scottish accent, “you’re not going to Holy Island in this are yer, yer’re mad!”. Indeed I was, but certainly I wasn’t crazy, in fact it was probably my most enjoyable day on this trip. As we left the station, we picked up four more tourists in the town centre, who were all merely on the bus ride there and straight back again, seemingly due to the terrible weather.
Holy Island – wow, what a place, and what amazing history! The island, also known as Lindisfarne, is a tiny 3.5 square mile tidal island off the Northumberland coast, with a population of around 180. It has a place in England’s Christian heart and history for having been an important centre of Celtic Christianity, under Saints Aidan and Cuthbert amongst others, after the former
founded a monastery on the island in the 7
th century, and the latter became a monk and Bishop of the monastery on the island not long after. Tiny though it is, it was the Christian spiritual and evangelical centre of the ancient English kingdom of Northumbria. I find it really quite sad and upsettingly ironic to think of how such peace-loving men, having found a really quiet, remote and hidden corner of the country to practise their faith, were besieged and so brutalised by the very infamous Viking invasion of the island in 793 AD. This incident marked the beginning of the Viking invasion and settlement of England, but inevitably its attack of the sacred heart of the Northumbrian kingdom was met with much bitterness which still seems to exist to this day. Holy Island’s own website calls it “a murderous and bloodthirsty attack”, and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle notes that earlier on in the year of the attack the people had witnessed terrible omens that something awful was on the horizon, involving “whirlwinds”, “immense sheets of lightning rushing through the air” and “fiery dragons flying across the firmament”. Many Christian martyrs were created on that day.
Nevertheless, Christianity continued
on the Island after the attack, and the monks returned to rebuild their monastery in the 12
th century. There still remains a strong Christian presence on the island, with a number of churches and retreat centres dotted around. Following Henry VIII’s dissolution of the English monasteries during the Reformation, the monastery was once more ruined as stones from it were used to build nearby Lindisfarne Castle in the 1550s. The castle was fortified as part of plans to protect the region from potential Scottish invasion, and to this day remains one of the island’s most iconic sights, along with the ruins of the monastery.
Having learned about the Island’s intriguing history, I was very excited to visit.
After a short journey through the countryside, the bus continued through the driving rain, and across the famous three-mile causeway which is revealed at low tide twice a day. We were indeed crossing at low tide, and my return bus journey would be around seven hours later, after the tide had come back in and then gone back out again. There are plenty of stories of drivers who ignore local warnings and tide times, and who try to cross the causeway
and then become stranded. In fact, right in the middle, there is a small rescue hut accessed by climbing steps above the waters, and a quick scan of YouTube videos showed me that there are many who have to take advantage of such a hut – apparently a driver gets stranded there around once a month. The causeway journey on the bus was very exciting, although I couldn’t see much as the rain was continuing to hammer down.
Upon disembarking, I spent the next hour or so in the first café I came across, attached to the island's Post Office, enjoying a lovely latte and waiting for the weather to ease. The café owner, after confirming that I was “overtiding it” on the island, that is, staying there until the next low tide, said it should dry up around midday, and indeed, sure enough, just after 12pm the weather cleared, and I was free to explore the island properly – yay!
The rain had indeed cleared by this time, but there lingered over the island for the rest of the day a humid mist, which was so evocative and made the place really quite eerie, quiet, and reminiscent
of those ancient days of monks and Vikings. It made for some really quite wonderful photos too.
My explorations of Holy Island began by a visit to the island’s tourist shops, namely the lovely Celtic Crafts shop, the Lindisfarne Heritage Centre, whose attached Viking video section was sadly closed due to the C-word situation, and the fantastic St Aidan’s Winery, where I stocked up on some lovely honey-based Lindisfarne Mead samples from the fairly famous beverage’s place of origin. I then headed over to one of the island’s two most famous attractions, the afore-mentioned Lindisfarne Priory, where I learned that admittance was by pre-booked online tickets only, and that there were no tickets left for that day. This wasn’t a problem at all really, as visitors were still able to explore freely the adjacent St Mary’s Church and grounds, built in the 12
th century as part of the priory’s rebuilding, and apparently now the oldest building with a roof on the island. The church area was so close to the priory that I felt I still was able to visit Lindisfarne Priory enough to do it justice. Upon leaving the area, I was struck by the beauty of a
saxon sword replica, “The Seax of Beagnoth” in the attached English Heritage souvenir shop, and thought that if I was still interested in buying it, despite its rather steep price, when I’d returned there from my walk around the island, that I would. Indeed, I was, and I did!
I then took a lovely walk along the southern coast of the island, with superb views over the priory again through the mist-clad grassy hills and mounds, and on towards the island’s other star attraction, Lindisfarne Castle. This was unfortunately closed due to the situation, but it was so worth simply walking up to it and admiring its grace from the outside, as it rises out of a mound of rock, the island’s highest point, in the south-east corner of the island. Around here I began talking with another visiting English chap, who told me more about the island’s history, particularly the supposed place of the Viking landing in Sandham Bay to the north, and the route they were believed to have taken, called Straight Lonnen, on their way to pillage and plunder the priory to the south. I had thus planned the next part of my explorations of the
The Village
Holy Island island, heading first along its east coast northwards to Sandham Bay, and then back into the village again to the south, via the original Viking plundering route straight through the middle of the island. This was actually trickier than it seemed, as with the thick mist that still enveloped the island, and the fact that the paths and tracks were numerous and went off in many directions, I could only be sure I was heading in the right direction by the compass on my phone’s map app. Very handy!
After a lovely walk through the mist and history, I sat down on the pebbly north island beach of Sandham Bay to enjoy my picnic lunch, watching over the waves as they crashed upon the shores, and only imagining what it must have been like for the monks to have witnessed the dreaded dragon-headed ships of the Vikings as they landed here following their North Sea journey from Nordic lands. I could quite easily have pictured a dragon-head coming silently out of the distant sea mist, just as they did in fact in the Vikings TV series, Season One Episode Two, “Wrath of the Northmen”. After a walk along the
The Village
Holy Island shore which became more sandy, a little concerned after having seen a couple of signs warning of the dangers of quicksand (!), I headed back inland again through some grassy dunes, and picked up the afore-mentioned Straight Lonnen track heading southwards back to the main settlement of the island, continuing to imagine the Vikings heading down this path on their way to barbarity. The walk was very quiet and tranquil, and the mist continued to create an ethereal atmosphere all around.
Back in “town”, I headed back to the English Heritage shop before it closed, to buy my sword, and later learned that it did not, as I had hoped, fit into my travelling backpack, so it actually became rather burdensome to carry along for the rest of my journey, but worth it in the end when I got it home! I had an hour to pass before my bus took me back to civilisation again, which I spent taking a quick deco at the island’s tiny primary school. I learnt there that around half of the day’s lessons, for the island’s two schoolchildren, one teacher and one classroom assistant/caretaker, took place in this building. When the tide allows,
The Village
Holy Island they all travel to the nearby Lowick First School on the mainland and back again, for their other lessons, to study with other children. Very interesting!
But the highlight of my day just has to be my walk to the western coast of the island at this point, where I spent a very happy half-an-hour gazing out over the mist and sea, presumably towards the mainland of England in the distance if the day was clear, and listening in awe to the sound of howling seals somewhere in the distance. At first I thought it was the wind or birds, but then I wondered as to whether there could in fact have been some kind of supernatural origin to the voices. I posted a video of it on my Facebook page not long after, which even when I hear now, is really just amazing! After a Google search later that day, I learned that they would have been seals, who are known to wail and howl like that at low tide. I can only imagine the people of ancient times considering them to be proof of the supernatural, banshees, departed souls or similar. It really was quite magical and
unearthly, I loved it!
After this, I headed back to the Lindisfarne bus stop, to catch my 6.30pm bus back to Berwick-upon-Tweed. Or rather, it was more like a taxi, as I had the whole bus to myself for the whole journey – yay! Safely deposited back at Berwick-upon-Tweed train station, I only had to wait around 15 minutes or so for the next train back to Newcastle, whereupon I headed back to my cosy BnB once more. I had enjoyed a wonderful first day exploring the really quite raw and rugged beauty of Northumberland, such a wonderful part of England as I was beginning to learn! And I was very much looking forward to my second day of explorations there, the next day.
The following morning I caught another train from Newcastle station, this time westwards and heading towards Carlisle, a small English city just north of the Lake District. I got off at Hexham station however, as my plan for the day was to visit and explore the legendary Hadrian’s Wall, which actually runs all the way from an aptly named place called Wallsend in Newcastle on the east coast of England, pretty much horizontally across
Vikings
Holy Island the island of Britain, through Carlisle, and ending at Bowness-on-Solway on the west coast. The wall marked the northern boundary of the Roman Empire in Britain, and was built by the Roman Emperor Hadrian between 122 AD and 128 AD, chiefly to keep out the volatile Ancient Briton and Pict tribes of Scotland to the north, as the Romans simply concluded that it would not be worth their while to try to push further north. The mysterious disappearance of the Roman Ninth Legion as they ventured into Pict territory north of the wall is depicted in the 2011 film based around this area of England called "The Eagle”. I really enjoyed the film, and feel I should watch it again now. The wall runs for 73 miles in total, and much of it is still intact today. Despite its geographical and historical importance in England, I had not visited it before, and thus I had planned a while ago that if I were to visit this part of my country, I would very much endeavour to visit the wall.
Initially, I could not find any bus route that would connect from one of the stations running along the Tyne
Monks
Holy Island Valley Line train route connecting Newcastle and Carlisle, so I had actually planned to get off at Bardon Mill station on the train line, and do an eight-mile return walk to my place of interest for the day, Housesteads Roman Fort. I wasn’t really looking forward to this walk, as I generally enjoy only around six miles or so at the most, but the day before my visit I stumbled across the timetable of the fantastically named bus number AD122. It wasn’t the 122 bus, it was the AD122, named after the year construction began on the wall – I loved this! The bus route starts at Hexham station, and runs along the most significant sights of the wall towards Haltwhistle station 15 miles to the west, and then back again – perfect! I planned my arrival in Hexham to coincide with the 10.10am bus leaving the station, and the bus was right on time. I had already booked my ticket online for the Housesteads Roman Fort, the most significant and intact of the remaining Roman Forts along the wall, so this was my destination. Instead of getting off there around 20 minutes into the journey however, I thought I
would take the bus all the way to Haltwhistle, stay on it as it began its return journey, and then disembark over an hour and a half later as the bus stopped at Housesteads again on its way back to Hexham. This meant that although I didn’t have time to visit every point of interest along this section of the wall, I could at least see them from the comfort of the bus, and get an overall idea of the layout of the land. I enjoyed the bus journey immensely, passing through various attractions including Chesters Roman Fort, The Sill Visitor Centre, Vindolanda Roman Fort and the Walltown Roman Army Museum, although my numb backside was more than happy to get off on our return journey again through Houseteads.
The day was not quite so wet as the previous morning, but there were interspersed showers throughout. The first one happily coincided with my arrival at the very small museum at Housesteads, where I waited for the rain to ease before I began my explorations of this stunningly located Roman Fort, with views for miles to the south through the English countryside, and more importantly in its day, for miles
to the north and towards the lands of the Picts. The fort is located in the very barren and isolated Northumberland National Park, one of ten in total in England. As well as never having visited Hadrian’s Wall before, this was also my first time in this national park – I was excited to be there.
Housesteads Roman Fort is one of 17 large forts which dot the length of Hadrian’s Wall, along with 80 milecastles and numerous observation towers. It is also the best preserved Roman fort not only along the wall, but in Britain today, and during my AD122 bus journey, also appeared to be the most visited of the area’s attractions. I really enjoyed my walk around the remains of the fort, imagining what life must have been like for the Roman legionary at this far-flung, wet and wild post of the Empire. Many of the soldiers apparently came from all parts of the Roman Empire, and it was really quite incredible to imagine such a large empire existing over 2000 years ago. Such is the splendour of the Roman Empire.
After a walk around the remains of the fort, including a few photos along
the wall which runs very much intact along its northern boundary, I began my two-mile trek westwards towards another very famous part of the wall, Sycamore Gap.
Sycamore Gap is a really quite astonishing part of the wall, where a sycamore tree reaches up out of a deep valley between two steep-sided hills, each adorned with the wall running up and down them. I only heard about it the day before from the English fellow I had met on Holy Island who told me where the Vikings were said to have landed there, and I’m so glad I had heard about it. The walk there was incredible, up and down the hills along whose ridges the 2000-year old wall runs. I found it evocative to imagine the Roman soldiers pacing up and down these very same hills, along the wall, looking northwards into the depths of darkest Scotland and wondering if at any moment they may be attacked by blue-painted tribesmen from the north. Whilst still rather diminutive in comparison to the immense 13,000 mile Great Wall of China, with its really quite towering walls and forts, I felt Hadrian’s Wall was still a feat and marvel of ancient
engineering, and similar in value and purpose. The heavens opened again along this part of my walk, but fortunately I had just arrived in a small wooded area which kept me sheltered from the worst of it. My arrival in Sycamore Gap was exciting, and I took numerous photos from a very small hill just to the south of it, with a wonderful view of this perfectly situated tree flanked by the wall and steep hills. The place is also the location for a famous scene from the 1991 film “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves”, in which Kevin Costner saves the life of a young boy who was being chased by the Sheriff of Nottingham’s men for stealing “hundreds” of the sheriff’s deer. As a result, it is also known as the “Robin Hood Tree”, and in 2016 won the “England Tree of the Year” award (I had no idea such an award existed…!).
After having a picnic lunch on the small hill to the south of the tree, I consulted my AD122 bus timetable, and noted that a bus back to Hexham was due in 20 minutes at a bus stop around a mile away, in the wonderfully
named village of "Once Brewed" (mysteriously named "Twice Brewed" if you arrive in it from the west...). After this, it would have been an hour’s wait until the next one. I wanted to get back to Newcastle a bit earlier that evening, just to have a bit of downtime before I moved on from there the next morning, so I thought it a good idea to aim for this bus. The path there wasn’t easy though – I could have chosen another path that went up and down steep hills, or a more curvy but flatter path that went through a nearby field. I chose the latter, only to find it probably wasn’t a public footpath as I had to climb over the gate at the end of the field to get onto a country lane leading to the bus stop. In the end, I only just caught the bus, and hailed it after it had already left the bus stop (apparently the bus rider can hail and get off the bus at any point along this route, not just at bus stops). The bus driver stopped, and was the same one who took me to Housesteads on the round
route that morning.
I very much enjoyed the bus ride back again to Hexham station, and then the subsequent train journey to Newcastle, passing through the nearby Gateshead MetroCentre, the UK’s second largest shopping mall, where I was able to take a quick photo from the train. I indeed arrived back in my BnB to enjoy more of a relaxing evening that evening, ready to pack my backpack once more, sword in hand this time (wrapped in a cardboard box at least, so I hopefully wouldn’t be stopped by the police…!), to continue my journey onwards from Newcastle the next morning.
My trip had gotten off to an absolutely amazing start, taking in some famous urban sites, fantastic history, and some really quite mythical and mysterious places. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, and was very excited to explore more as my journey continued. I plan to write up about my next stop along this north-east journey in my next one.
Until then, thank you very much for reading, and all the best for now.
Alex
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
Great blog...
it was like I was with you with all the detail.