The sun was shining when we rose, which was especially nice as this was another day I’d been particularly looking forward to. Ever since visiting the Corbridge remains near Newcastle several years earlier I’d quite fancied a stroll along a wilder stretch of Hadrian’s Wall but never got round to it. We took our time getting up and packing, relaxed in the knowledge of a straightforward and reasonably short walk ahead. By the time we got going the sun had climbed a bit and was beginning to feel warm – could spring finally be on its way?

Featherstone Castle, owners of the concessionary path we were using

We took a slightly different route back to where we left the PW the previous afternoon, this time walking back along the south bank of the river along the concessionary bridle path through Featherstone Castle grounds. It was all very lush and lovely by the water in the sunshine, a genuine bit of untouched old English farmland.

Entrance to P.O.W. Camp 18

Or so we thought until we came across a plaque on a stone gatepost bearing this announcement:

Here was the entrance to P.O.W. Camp 18 where thousands of German officers were held in the years 1945-48.  The interpreter since January 1946 was Captain Herbert Sulzbach O.B.E. who dedicated himself to making this camp a seedbed of British-German reconciliation.  Our two nations owe him heartfelt thanks.  The friends and members of the Featherstone Park-Association of former inmates of Camp 18.  1982.

It’s probably well known locally but it was quite a surprise for us. Further along the path we saw the remains of some brick buildings and a sizeable area of rectangular footings marking out where the barrack huts stood.

Remains of the P.O.W. camp

Difficult to imagine all the noise and activity and no doubt stress and anger that had once occurred there, such a contrast to the warm breeze and twittering birds of our brief visit. After the river we crossed a few fields on footpaths that didn’t seem to quite follow the shape of those on my 1:50K OS map but we made it back to the Pennine Way pretty easily nonetheless and resumed the official route.

Oh joy – more boggy ground!

And we could certainly tell we were back on the Pennine Way as just a couple of fields later we found ourselves crossing what looked like a large tract of rough grazing land of mixed grass and sedge but was actually a large tract of marsh. We got through eventually after some more squelching and swearing, and once we’d reached the farm road that led us to the A69 the ground changed for the better and we plodded across a golf course to Thirlwall Castle.

Thirlwall Castle – built from reclaimed Roman stone!

We had intended to find somewhere in the castle to sit and eat our lunch but all suitable benches and rocks were taken so we snapped a few photos and headed for a bench we could see in what looked like a bit of a park across a small field. On the way down the steep slope from the castle we met a young lad who struck up a conversation with us, asking us where we’d come from and where we were going. His younger sister and his dad soon joined him and we discovered that they were walking the Pennine Way as well but in an unusual way – the mum was driving their caravan from one site to the next while dad and the kids walked, and was ferrying them to and from the ends of each section if necessary and often joining them at lunchtime too. Bad weather days were just spent in the caravan or maybe doing something else to pass the time. It had taken them about 4 weeks to get that far but they’d avoided the worst of the rain and didn’t have to carry much at all while walking so seemed to be having a great time. Genius!

The bench turned out to be through a gate off the main footpath and might not really have been for public use but we weren’t sure so used it anyway and sat watching the steady stream of visitors filing up and down the steep castle hill. It wasn’t far from there to the Visitor Centre at Walltown Quarry where we made use of the facilities and I bought a drink at the shop. I waited outside for Mel for a few minutes while guzzling my drink and couldn’t help smiling at a group of men who were obviously just starting out on an afternoon walk and were standing chatting loudly while one of their party was busy on a mobile phone; the contrast between us at that particular moment was striking. They looked like they’d just had a spending spree at the local outdoor boutique – all immaculately turned out in obviously expensive walking gear, not a spot of dirt or hint of scuff, crease or fade on any of it and all so full of energy and enthusiasm! I stood there hot, weary and rather crumpled with filthy boots and mud up to my knees from the morning’s bog hopping! Still – I was happy. Honest!

Standing next to the wall it’s impossible to not be awe-struck by it

The way to Walltown Crags from the visitor centre is past a rather picturesque quarry with a pointy cliff at the back and a pool in front. You know as you take the photos that you’re probably the millionth this year but it makes no difference, the scenery on and around the Wall is so unique and spectacular you just have to have your own set of pictures of it. The next few miles were very enjoyable but extremely hard work with heavy packs as the wall and the path continually rise and fall over the many craggy outcrops of the Whin Sill.

The wall itself is very impressive – seeing it for real even at its reduced height brought home the immensity of it all – the unimaginable labour involved in quarrying, cutting, dressing and transporting the millions of regular blocks of rock from which it was built over this difficult landscape.

It really was a building project of immense scale. A heavy duty defensive wall, 73 miles long over some very bleak and difficult terrain!

And with the wide open areas of land either side, particularly to the north, the conditions up there in winter must often have been downright miserable!

Looking over the wall into enemy territory. That’s Wark Forest on the horizon

The clouds began to gather as the afternoon went on and by the time we’d got to the point where we turned off downhill for Winshields farm at Once Brewed it looked like rain was falling from some very dark, low clouds in the distance and was heading our way. We got down to the farm with no problem but couldn’t find anyone to check in with so followed the instructions on a sign that said to just pitch and pay later. We pitched and got changed but didn’t find anyone to pay before walking to the pub despite trying a few times. The pub – the Twice Brewed Inn – is a short walk along the road from the campsite and seems very popular, in fact it was full when we arrived even though it was still early by normal eating out standards. There were no free seats anywhere but we asked at the bar and were shown to a table in the restaurant at the back and told we could still order bar meals if we preferred. We tried to drink slowly but got through our first ones before the waiter came to take our order. That was OK though as it was a pleasant enough place to sit and sup some more anyway. To be fair I think they were just short of waiters that evening as the food wasn’t long coming once ordered. I can thoroughly recommend the place, the food was delicious and not expensive, the beers are their own and very nice and it’s got a great, friendly atmosphere.

Winshields Farm campsite, a sheltered spot on a windy evening

On arriving back at the campsite we were slightly nonplussed to find that an organised group in the next field had parked their minibus just a couple of feet from our tents, obviously deliberately as our field was otherwise empty – and so was theirs for that matter. We decided to just ignore it as we’d be up and away reasonably early the next morning but they got up very early and made a lot of noise loading gear, slamming doors and driving off. No idea what we’d done to offend them but hopefully they gained some satisfaction from their revenge!

Day 14 | Menu | Day 16