Category: Daily updates

Total miles: 18.1
Elevation gain: 3,691 ft
Time walking: 10:30am – 8:30pm
Miles to date: 891.4

Another truly splendid day! I think I must hold the record for the driest Pennine Way journey ever! I can’t believe how lucky I have been with the weather, I really have seen all the best bits at their very best and made it through with not *too* wet feet! Today also marked the end of the Pennine Way, the beginning of Leg 5 of my journey and finally fully crossing into Scotland.

The day started slightly later than intended (no change there really…!) as last night was so cold! I was nice and cosy in my sleeping bag but I could feel the cold air on my face and I was in no hurry to get out of my snug bed! I even pulled my clothes into my sleeping bag for a bit to warm them up! The plus side of the chilly morning was that there were no midges first thing! The sun was out but hadn’t made it to the bottom of the valley yet and it looked like it would be another stunning day. A breakfast of porridge, banana, avocado and tea eaten by the river, enjoying the peace and then I spot something moving by the tree line. I think it must be a deer at first, and then I see a pair of large slightly curved horns. Then the rest of the goat appeared – a magnificent male, black and grey with a long shaggy coat, leisurely enjoying a munch on the grass before gradually making his way up the track on the opposite slope. He had clearly seen me but seemed completely nonplussed by my presence, continuing on his journey wherever he was off to, nibble by nibble.

I started to pack up just as the midges, roused by the gradually warming morning, started to gather around. First one, then another, then lots! No fire today to keep them at bay, I quickly packed up the rest of my camp while covering up as best I could. I quickly popped over to look at the waterfall from above (it was a long climb around to get to the bottom) and saw several butterflies warming their wings and a mouse that ran into my boot, shook itself in surprise then turned and scuttled back the way it had come! I was sad to leave my little valley but if I was going to make Kirk Yetholm at a decent time to meet Anneliese and Michael I had to make a move!

As I emerged from the forest (spotting lots of good dead wood on the way!) I saw lots of hikers heading up the trail towards the Pennine Way. More people, crazy! I supposed it was at least Saturday today… As I joined a few of the hikers I asked what the event was and they told me it was the Cheviots Challenge, a 23 mile hike (or run) around the Cheviots. What a gorgeous day for it! At the top I stopped and chatted with the marshals, they seemed quite impressed that I was walking all this way on my own. People keep telling me I’m brave, but I don’t really think much about it! I guess when the Way is less clear and the weather is bad it does get a bit scarier, but there is something quite liberating about walking alone.

Turning away from the stream of challenge hikers, whose route took them up Windy Gyle, part of me was glad to have the route back to myself, part of me was sad – it might have been a good opportunity to pick up some more spontaneous sponsorship, which has slowed down in recent weeks due to the remoteness of my walk! Still, I had a big hill to climb. Several, actually! The first was the gradual climb up towards the Cheviot, the highest point in the Cheviots. In front of me I spotted four hikers and gradually caught them up. They were the four I’d met briefly at the hut yesterday, they had dropped down to a B&B last night. They have been meeting one weekend a year for the last 10 years to complete the Pennine Way – this was their last day! We passed each other a couple of times during the day, joking about who would finish first. I decided not to do the detour up to the summit of the Cheviot, although it is technically part of the Pennine Way it is supposedly not that worth it, a very flat summit with no views and it was 2.5 miles of ascent/descent I didn’t really fancy given my already long day! Instead I followed the path down to a slightly lower summit further down the ridge which for some reason doesn’t seem to have a name, despite having some fantastic cairns and a view to die for! My four fellow hikers paused there for lunch, savouring the view. It was the last chance to really look back at the rest of the Cheviots and I could see all along the ridge back to Windy Gyle, which looked small from up here! In front of me was Scotland, with just a few rounded hills standing between me and the end of the Pennine Way. To my right was a sudden steep valley with a tiny stream and cascading waterfalls at the bottom. The descent was steep, not as steep as the valley beside me thank goodness (a viewpoint to the right of the path looked back at a natural chasm halfway up the valley from which the water tumbled fervently, I could hear the sound of it even from way up above), and it made my knees ache! I could spy my next target though, the second mountain hut, and when I reached it stopped for another quick break. I could see why lots of people camped here, although very basic the hut was in a beautiful spot, high enough for a view out either side but still nestled down beneath the larger hills.

The next big climb, The Schill, was there in front of me, unabashedly jutting its rocky summit into the sky above its steep grassy slopes. This one was definitely not as subtle as the Cheviot! A deep breath and several jelly babies and up I go, passing a fair few day hikers on the way up (seriously, where have all these people come from?!!). Ah the view from the top. Worth the huffing and puffing climb! Behind me my route stretched out impressively and to the north west…the sea! I did a double take and exclaimed in surprise to the sky “my god I can see the sea!!” before realising there was a couple sat on the rocks enjoying their lunch and smiling at me, amused. I haven’t seen the sea since north Wales four weeks ago, and wasn’t expecting to see it again til I got past Inverness!

Another steep descent (I really think going down is much harder than going up!) and I pass a man with a big rucksack coming up. He looks quite fresh and smiley despite the hills he must have come up already but his boots look suspiciously clean, shiny and un-broken-in. I pray they don’t give him blisters! Soon after The Schill the path finally crosses over into Scotland for the last time. No border checks, welcome sign or bells and whistles, just a simple gate in the fence, but I give myself an imaginary high five, not quite believing I’m now in my final country, albeit a very big one! There’s a decision here – high route or low route. The main route is the high one so of course that’s the one I have to go for given the weather is good and these are my last hills of the Pennine Way. I do question my sanity slightly when over the next small rise I see those last few hills. A majestic final ridge with White Law, the highest point, looking like it was going to provide one last challenge to tired legs. I can’t believe some people do this last section (from Byrness) in one day. It would be an absolute killer! Not to mention that the need to rush would be such a shame with such stunning scenery! I was a little sad that I wasn’t staying in Kirk Yetholm which would have meant I could have taken a little longer! Still, only a few miles to go, mostly downhill, and Annie and Mike were waiting for me at the pub, with a sandwich they’d ordered for me just before the kitchen closed.

It was hot and sticky in the sun and the last couple of miles, although technically easy, felt tough – the last couple of any walk always feel the hardest! The last mile is on a small but tarmac road, a killer on tired feet, but as I came down the hill into the village and saw the pub across the green Annie spotted me and came running up to give me a big hug. I’d done it, I’d finished the Pennine Way! I know I’ve said this a lot, but I couldn’t believe it! The Pennine Way is a trail I’ve always wanted to walk, and I’d just done it, all 268 miles (and some!) of it! I immediately started to wonder when I could do it again…

The sandwich, coke and bench were all very welcome and I enjoyed finally getting to give my feet some air – they’d started to feel a bit sticky in my not-so-waterproof-any-more socks and the warm sun. Anneliese is super excited to be joining me for the next 12 days, as am I to have her company, and it was wonderful to discuss plans with her and Mike in the sunshine. We also enjoyed teasing her about some of the arguably unnecessary items she had brought with her and even managed to persuade her to leave a few with Mike, a move she was soon grateful for a few miles in…

I had arrived a bit later than planned – the day was hillier and a bit longer than I had expected – and we still had 7 miles to go, including, I discovered and revealed to a willing but unsuspecting Anneliese, a few big-ish hills… It was 5pm by the time we were all set up and ready to go but it was a beautiful evening and the Scottish Borders are just beautiful, so it looked like we were in for a gorgeous walk. As we headed out across the fields, now following St. Cuthbert’s Way, I hear a voice calling me. I turn around and see Sean, following us up the field! He’d seen us walk past him at the hostel and had come to say hello and goodbye – he was off to Glasgow tomorrow to do the West Highland Way so I really wouldn’t see him again. So nice of him to come and catch me up, he was definitely a massive part of my Pennine Way journey!

St. Cuthbert’s Way followed the road for a fair distance before finally cutting back up on a track next to a field of goats (hilariously, Annie had been told she would see goats on her journey, she wasn’t expecting to find them so quickly though!) which would take us to the foot of the ridge we had to climb. The road was tough on my feet but at least it was easy walking and we made good progress, stopping occasionally to readjust Anneliese’s rucksack until we got the right fit for her. Then came the hill…! It was Anneliese’s first time climbing a big hill with so much weight and I was tired after my big day so we slowed down somewhat! Thankfully Anneliese lives in a hilly area and is pretty fit anyway, and her enthusiasm got her up the hill. I had to keep up with her at points! As we got higher and higher the view grew more spectacular. To the left towards the Cheviots and the way I had come, to the right across the fields further into Scotland, right out to the distinctive three peaks of the Eildon hills in front of Melrose where we will finish in a couple of days’ time.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and bathing everything in a warm golden glow, and we felt fantastic! The ridge was a deceptively tough climb and had several summits along the way. At one point I took us the wrong side of a wall and we had to climb over a rickety gate and another wall to get back on track. And then Anneliese had her first taste of a big ladder stile over a stone wall – this one had a very tall first step and it took a big heave to get up onto it! Followed by another big climb, thankfully the last of the day, up onto Wideopen Hill. A sign at the top told us this was the highest point along St. Cuthbert’s Way and also the halfway point of the route between Melrose and Lindisfarne, which means that by the time we reach Melrose we will have walked over half of it! I had told Nicky (who we were staying with tonight) we were a bit later than planned and she told us of a slightly quicker route down off the hill. This was welcome news as the light was just starting to go and the moon was coming out! It was pretty though, and as we walked along the last bit of the ridge we spotted two beautiful horses walking over to see us in the adjacent field. They were friendly but gentle and we spent a few minutes just enjoying their presence, soft noses and warm breath. It’s magical moments like that that really make this walk special.

We dropped down off the hill on the track Nicky had mentioned and she messaged to say she could see us through her binoculars! She very kindly drove out to meet us part way up the track, just after we’d jumped out of our skins when a flock of pheasants flew out of the bushes in a dark section of wood! We were very grateful, she saved us another mile and a half (although we’ll have to do it tomorrow instead) and meant we didn’t finish completely in the dark! We were incredibly glad to get in and eat a delicious and plentiful home cooked meal with veggies from the garden, and a bath!! So tired now. Looking at the elevation gain it has been the biggest day of my trip, and pretty hefty mileage too. Given how I pushed the first section, I guess it’s not surprising I’m tired! For now, making the most of my bed as we have several nights camping ahead of us as we head further into the Scottish Borders and beyond!

Total miles: 13.1
Elevation gain: 1,908 ft
Time walking: 11:15am – 6:30pm
Miles to date: 873.3

Oh. My. Goodness. Wow! The Cheviots! Today has been an AWESOME day! Absolutely stunning. Definitely a contender for one of the best days yet.

The first few hours of the morning were taken up with the usual bothy tasks…finding a loo spot, hunting for firewood, fetching water, making tea and breakfast and getting everything packed up and tidied. It always takes longer than I expect but it is an enjoyable part of the day, provided I’m not in too much of a rush to get going. The valley was peaceful, a morning hush lay over it, not a soul to be seen. I wondered whether I was going to go three days with barely seeing any other people – this was one of the most remote stretches of the country after all. My tea, granola and banana tasted amazing, they always do eaten outside in nature!

All too soon I had to leave the cosy little bothy and find my way back to the Pennine Way. Someone had mentioned in the visitor book that they had come down to the Hearts Toe lookout from the Pennine Way and along the bridleway to the hut so I thought I’d try that. The bridleway wasn’t at all clear despite being waymarked so I took the track to begin with, and when I got to the bridleway a bit further on, still not terribly obvious, I headed off into the undergrowth. I was quickly beaten back by head height bracken and no sign of a path at all. Frustrated, I double checked the map, and my GPS. There was definitely meant to be a bridleway here! After yesterday’s escapades I really didn’t fancy fighting through more undergrowth though so I looked for an alternative option. Following the track a bit further on looked like it would take me within about 50m of the permissive path that led from Hearts Toe to the Pennine Way. Thankfully those 50 metres weren’t too tricky to cross and although the path was barely visible there were signs of people having passed that way and it ran along the line of a fence which turned out to be the fence which marks the border! It wasn’t the easiest path but at least it was a path and I was back on track!

It was strange, knowing I was at the Scottish border. It felt like such a major milestone, I still can’t quite believe I’ve made it this far! I spent a lot of the day walking along the border fence, crossing it a couple of times but always ending up back on the English side.

The Cheviots were beautiful and showing themselves off at their finest. A gorgeous sunny day, nobody to be seen, a few sheep here and there, just miles of rolling golden hills and endless sky. This was what it was all about! Across the way I could see clearly the lines of former walls and banks of the old roman fort of Chew Green. The path goes right past it but up close you could almost not realise it was there. It was amazing, knowing that roman legionaries had lived here thousands of years ago. The roman road, Dere Street, crossed here and I’d pick it up again in a couple of days. It must have been a remote spot even then, but what else did they need other than space, a stream and a route to and from wherever the next town was?! I had a quick break sat on one of the grassy banks, eating my peanut butter and jam sandwich that I’d made back in Bellingham, feeling rather content. Suddenly up on the hill, silhouetted against the sky, I saw the unmistakable shape of three hikers. People! I assumed they must be coming towards me so excitedly got up and got ready to move again.

Heading slowly but steadily up the hill I kept an eye out for the hikers but they were nowhere to be seen. I started to wonder whether I’d imagined them, or mistaken sheep for people, and it wasn’t until I was well along the ridge that I finally saw them again, up ahead. It turned out they were in front of me, heading in the same direction. I’m not sure how I hadn’t seen them earlier but there they were. It was quite nice to know there were other people out there, even if they were ahead of me.

After a little more walking, some great views over into Scotland, a couple of hills, a few boggy bits and a lot more sky, I spotted the first mountain refuge hut (there are two on this final section of the Pennine Way). And…people! The three hikers I’d seen earlier were just disappearing over the top of the next hill as I crested the hill coming down to the hut but there were five other hikers down there eating their lunch. Suddenly I wasn’t quite sure I did want to see people, I was getting used to having the hills to myself! As I reached the hut a group of four of the hikers were just setting off again, and the other wasn’t far behind but he was there long enough to have a quick chat and to compare notes. I then sat in the sun and enjoyed my lunch – cheese, ham and crisp sandwich – glad of my food prep in Bellingham! The refuge huts are much more basic than bothies, basically just small wooden huts with narrow benches, but people often sleep in them on this stretch if the weather is too wild for full on camping. I imagine they are incredibly welcome on wet and wild days!

As I was getting ready to head on, fuelled for the next few hills, two more hikers came down the hill towards me. I couldn’t believe this – the wildest stretch of the Pennine Way and I’d nearly seen more people than I’d seen on the entire route! The two hikers, a man and his son, arrived at the hut and exhaustedly dumped their bags on the ground. They looked tired and hot, and, by their own admission, rather unfit. The size of their bags (very large!) suggested they weren’t seasoned hikers and campers and they told me they were new to this, and that they were walking the Pennine Way to get fit. I’m seriously impressed. The PW is tough, and walking it north to south is a tough way to start! They had taken two days to get to this point, having stayed at the other mountain hut last night. It turned out they’d stayed there with Sean, who had told them to pass on his best wishes if they saw me! I love how that happens when you’re out on these trails. A real sense of camaraderie. The father and son were taking it steady and were wild camping so they could be flexible with how far they went in a day. I told them of a few potential wild camping spots I’d seen along the way this morning, including the option of camping at Chew Green where there was the stream. I really hope they enjoy their trip and they make it, it will be an incredible experience for them.

There were a few more tough hills and lots more stunning views, until eventually I make it up to Windy Gyle which is one of the bigger hills in the area and has a massive pile of stones atop which sits the trig point – it’s distinctive and can be seen for miles around. It also was not as windy as the name suggests! Often it is gale force winds up on top but this evening it was still and sunny. At the top I see the guy I’d been chatting to at the hut, chatting to another man who had walked up just to camp. What a spot! There is a perfect flat grassy spot on top of the hill, I can see why they say it is popular with wild campers, and he had pitched his tent there ready for a glorious sunset, clear skies and sunrise in the morning. I asked him whether there was any water close by, he said there wasn’t and he had carried his water in, but he told me of a pretty waterfall down in the woods not far from where I had been planning to camp. He also said it was possible to camp next to the waterfall too. I was a bit dubious about midges and water but figured I would go and check it out and at least get topped up with water, even if I came back up on top to camp.

The guy I’d chatted to at the hut headed off in front (he was aiming for the second hut for the night) and I followed in his footsteps, we both went the wrong (Scottish!) side of the fence and struggled through some boggier sections before realising there was a flagstone path on the English side, doh! Clearly we weren’t the only ones – the fence looked like it had been hopped over many a time! At the point where I was leaving the path (to walk down Chennel Street, another Roman road) I caught up with the hut guy again (still didn’t manage to get his name..!) as he’d stopped to chat to another wild camper in another gorgeous spot. Everyone was out today! We admired his tent etc etc and then we went our separate ways. As I dropped down the hill on a nice clear path I sussed out some potential camping spots in case the waterfall wasn’t suitable. It was a beautiful evening and it seemed a shame to drop into the trees, and as I joined the forest track that led down through the conifers I was pretty sure I would come back up to camp. That was until the track emerged into a beautiful shallow valley, sun shining on the heather on the opposite side, a little bridge crossing over the stream bubbling along at the bottom and a gorgeous waterfall. As the wild camper had said, there was a perfect flat grassy spot right by the stream just above the waterfall and there was even the remains of a fire, in a rustic but robust fire pit made out of large stones. Ok, I am so camping here, I don’t care if there are midges!! I dropped down to the stream and quickly put the tent up. The midges did appear (although thankfully not quite as badly as at the horrible midge-infested spot at Garrigill) so I layered up and decided I would get a little fire going in the hope the smoke would keep the worst of the midges at bay. Thankfully the last people had left a fair bit of wood as there wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity, despite the surrounding trees (the woods have clearly been well-plundered previously!). So I lit the fire but kept it small and smoky, and it did seem to help with the midges. Water collected from the stream, dinner ‘cooked’ and I sat on the log by the fire feeling incredibly happy. The moon was even out and beautiful above the trees. What a perfect spot! At one point I heard a helicopter approaching and suddenly it appeared low above the trees, flying a bit further down the little valley across to the other side. It soon came back, this time flying up the valley, right over my head, really low. I half feared that it had come to check out my fire but I think it was just a military helicopter practising its manoeuvres. Probably using me as target practice! It was loud and quite scary though, but it has only come back once, when I was in my tent.

It is cold tonight. I guess I am camping at an altitude of about 400m so much higher than previous nights, and I think being by the water cools it down too. For the first time this trip I have pulled the hood of my sleeping bag tight around my face and I think I will need to dig out my woolly hat too! It has been a glorious day, one of the best, and I am looking forward to my last day of the Pennine Way tomorrow. I have a feeling I will be sad to finish it though!

Total miles: 18
Elevation gain: 2,966 ft
Time walking: 11:15am – 8:15pm
Miles to date: 860.2

Another great day, not without its challenges (admittedly mostly of my own making!) but incredibly satisfying.

I set off from Bellingham far later than I intended but I did manage to have two breakfasts (partly because I need to eat as much as I can and partly because I needed to use up some food!) and somehow fit all of my food into my rucksack, including five rounds of sandwiches, half a loaf of bread, two packets of crisps, half a bag of granola, half a packet of pasta, the leftovers from last night’s bolognaise, two bananas, an avocado and an apple. On top of the usual cereal bars, protein powder, chocolate bars, oat cakes and jelly babies of course! Rucksack bulging at the seams and me gasping at the weight (not ideal but there’s no food between here and Kirk Yetholm in three days’ time (unless I ate at the hotel in Byrness like most sensible people…)), I set off in gorgeous sunshine, not looking forward to the hill climb out of Bellingham.

Yup, that was a tough climb! Well, not really that tough considering some of the other climbs I’ve done, but the first bit was along the road, it was hot, my pack was heavy and the path just kept going up and up and up! The elevation gain made for pretty views though and I was back in the heather again, so I just took it steady and kept breathing in the gorgeous heathery smell in the air. It was great to be back on the moors again, with that feeling of space and oodles of sky. The path was reasonably well marked here, or where it wasn’t waymarked the tread of countless footprints gave it away. Past the crossing of the road a little after Hareshaw House the path started to become fainter as it turned up the hill and eventually I lost it completely. I’m not sure if I missed a bit heading off to the side or something but when the bit I was on peetered out I couldn’t see another path anywhere! I knew where I was aiming for though – the summit of the hill, so I forged my own path through the heather. I felt bad, tramping over the heather, but I didn’t have any option. I tried to keep to the grassiest/mossiest bits I could find, and slowly (the heather was knee high in places) I made my way towards the top. As I got closer I spotted a signpost, phew, always a good sign! (Literally, haha). And out of nowhere I came across a very well defined, albeit narrow, path. It amazes me how a path can fizzle out at one point but be so clear at others!

Glad I’d found the path and the top of the hill I stopped for a quick lunch break. I was only about 5 miles in but was already peckish, despite my two breakfasts, and figured I could lighten my pack just a little. Also, the sun was lovely and warm and the view was fab. Refreshed, I tackled the next section, a short and occasionally boggy descent followed by a gentle climb up to another summit. Here I crossed paths with a guy coming the other way. He was just doing a couple of days but he mentioned he had stayed in Spithope Bothy just outside of Byrness and he said it was really worth a visit. I also gathered he had met Sean – who had stayed in the bothy with him – who had told him about me! Whilst I was pleased that Sean had made it to the bothy I was also sad as I knew that meant he wouldn’t be there tonight and he was now a day ahead of me, so we’d be unlikely to cross paths again. There was something nice though, about knowing he was out there on the path somewhere, ahead of me.

The next couple of miles were pretty, more moorland (and a few annoying midges), a bit of drizzle and then a steep climb up along the edge of a forest. I say ‘a’ forest…I probably should say ‘the’ forest – I’d reached the edge of Kielder Forest, the largest forest in Great Britain! Also one of the largest man-made forests in Europe! (Another “biggest” for the list!). The climb up was a bit of a killer and involved having to duck under a fallen pine tree (not so easy with a big pack on your back) but once again the views back were lovely and with the drizzle gone it was quite pleasant. I even found bilberries! The first actual berries since Offa’s Dyke. I’ve seen lots of the bushes but none of the berries til now, so I ate as many as I could find!

At the top I had a great view of some massive clouds over the valley, brought to my attention by a loud clap and then a long rumble of thunder. There were sheets of rain coming down from them. Cool, but I couldn’t tell which way the clouds were moving. I hoped they were continuing south, not east, as although they were impressive to look at I didn’t fancy giving them a closer inspection, especially being on top of a big hill! I kept an eye on the clouds as I bog-hopped along the top of the hill, still on the edge of the forest. They seemed to be behaving and not getting any closer. Good! I turned my full concentration towards trying not to go knee-deep in bog. Even though I think the moors are far drier than usual right now (I don’t know what sort of deal I have with the weather gods at the moment but it’s a good one!) it was still pretty boggy. I only had a couple of calf-deep moments but there was a lot of ankle-deep squelching!

Sadly the forest wasn’t entirely peaceful as there were forestry works near the path and the quiet was broken by the constant sound of machinery. It was fascinating to walk past a very recently felled section of forest, with the air smelling a little like a hamster’s cage – fresh sawdust and the slight ammonia type smell of the bogs. I could see trees on the other side of the felled area moving as they too were being cut down. This section of the path was very boggy, presumably because until recently it was completely shadowed by tall pine trees.

It wasn’t long before the path joined a gravel forest road, which it followed pretty much all the way to the edge of the forest, save a couple of sections where the path ventured away from the track for a short distance (a welcome break for the feet!). I (along with most hikers I expect) have mixed feelings about gravel tracks. At first they can be welcome respite from heavy boggy trudging, and the pace certainly picks up. But they are hard on the feet and often not all that interesting. I was pleasantly surprised that, although indeed hard on the feet, these tracks had good views – the forest didn’t encroach right onto the path and a lot of it was younger forest. I was still relatively high at this point too and could see out to moorland and distant hills, including a big one I presumed to be The Cheviot.

Several miles of forest tracks later I emerged at a small picnic area on the edge of the forest with some handy toilets. A winding path through more natural feeling woods and along a little river brought me out to the campsite on the edge of Byrness where I had originally planned to stay. It was still early(ish) though, and a beautiful evening, so I decided I would continue walking and aim to get to the bothy. The path continues for another mile before coming out at the surprisingly busy main road next to a gorgeous tiny church. An information board showed a map of the whole Pennine Way and it was amazing to look at it and see how far I’d come even just on this particular leg of my journey.

Across the road the path heads up into more woodland. Straight up! Byrness Hill is a tall steep hill at one end of a ridge which the Pennine Way follows to join the Border Ridge (which follows the English/Scottish border). In the evening sun it looked stunning, standing proudly above the village and the trees, craggy edges catching the sun in a mixture of light and shadow. It was quite a big ask, to climb it at the end of the day and I did wonder if I was slightly mad. Still, fuelled by a handful of jelly babies up I went, through the fir trees, crossing a few forest tracks and out into the sun. The last bit up to the top was steep and scrambly but once up, ohhhh. Happy place! The view was delightfulness bathed in gold! To the south and southwest stretched Kielder Forest, with Catcleugh Reservoir glinting in the sun. To the south east stretched miles of moorland. And to the north, the Cheviots! Rolling hills and valleys at their very best. What a perfect evening for a ridge walk! Part of me wanted to pitch my tent right there and just watch the sun go down!

I was keen to get to my bothy though, and conscious that once the sun went down it would get dark pretty quickly – I still had to find my way down to it through the forest! My plan was to walk along the ridge for a while then cut down into the forest along one of the clearings marked on the map, to reach a forest track, then another clearing which should take me to the bridleway leading to the bothy. Note to self: what looks ‘easy’ on a map is very often not so easy in reality!!! After a beautiful day and lovely evening I had one of the worst hours of the entire trip trying to get down off the hill! It started well, a sheep track led down to a fence by the clearing and it looked like people had crossed the fence before as it was easy to hop across. The reeds were deep and covering squelchy ground in places but again, there was almost a rough trail. The clearing was another matter. Rows and rows of old tree stumps and piles of old wood, divided by often deep boggy channels running down hill. Walking by the stumps and over the wood was slow and slippery, walking down the gullies was wet and unnerving. Several times I had to jump across the gullies as I couldn’t tell how deep they were. This was slow, sweaty, frustrating progress! I began to wish I’d taken the more straightforward option of following the bridleway right up from Byrness…but at least the gorgeous evening up on top had made it worth it! Eventually I spotted the track below. Oh never have I been so happy to see a forest track before! I reached the track and followed it along, looking out for the bothy which would be somewhere below. I spotted it, oh happy sight, and squinted to see if I could make out any smoke coming from the chimney. I was still a bit too far away to see properly. Target in sight I began to look for the best course to take to get down to it. The forest around it had been cleared but I wasn’t such a fan of cleared forest as a route option now! This previously cleared section had been replanted though, and as a result the ground looked slightly better. As I drew level with the bothy I took a deep breath and headed down into the new growth, watching my step very carefully. It was easier than the previous section but I still had to choose my route carefully, detouring around deep or boggy sections or where there was a lot of old wood. The bothy grew closer. As I neared I realised there was another problem. I was coming to a steep confluence of two streams, and the bothy lay on the other side. No way. I wanted to cry! But I’m not getting this close and being thwarted at the final hurdle! I headed down to the banks of the stream and eyed the other side. It was steep and looked a little too far to jump comfortably. I looked around, but couldn’t find any options that looked more promising. Testing the depth of the stream with my poles it didn’t seem too deep so I took a deep breath, counted down from 5 and jumped. I say ‘jumped’, it was more a ‘hurl myself over and hope for the best with eyes squeezed shut’ type manoeuvre! I just made it and clung to some heather to stop me falling backwards with the weight of my pack. Scrambling up the other side I triumphantly whooped, through the tired adrenaline rush. I wasn’t there yet though. I had to cross another stream (thankfully a much easier crossing), then fight my way up through dense, head-height bracken, up onto and along a dry stone wall and jump down into the yard of the bothy. I’d made it! And it was still daylight, just.

Pushing open the door of the bothy I was slightly sad to see nobody else was there (it would have been nice to arrive to a fire, a cup of tea and a sympathetic listener to whom I could relay my “you’ll never believe the journey I’ve had” tale of my trip down the hill) but also relieved as I wasn’t sure I was in the mood for conversation! Thankfully there was plenty of wood for the fire (nice one Sean) so after heading down to the stream to filter plenty of water for tea and dinner I got a fire going in the stove just as the light was fading. I was quite pleased with my fire (although I was very grateful I still had some newspaper with me…haven’t quite mastered starting a fire without paper!) and it soon heated the little room up nicely. I had some challenges finding the right balance between not smoking the room out and having enough light/not letting the fire go out but I compensated for the former by opening the top hatch of the door and praying I didn’t get carbon monoxide poisoning in the night…

By the time water was collected and the fire was going well it was getting late and I still hadn’t had my dinner! I had been planning to try to cook pasta and reheat my bolognaise using my little stove but I found a pan in the bothy so used that on top of the bothy stove. Slower, but it worked perfectly! There was a whistling kettle too which I used to boil water for tea. I do love a whistling kettle! I was pleased to find two candles in the bothy box (another note to self: always bring candles when planning to stay in a bothy!) which I lit to give me some light. My head torch is ok but nothing beats candlelight. I also think I probably need to change the batteries in my headtorch but I’m eeking them out for now. Whilst I ate my dinner and drank my tea, feeling decidedly better about my decision to make it to the bothy, I read through the visitor’s book. It looks like a popular bothy, but not so much for Pennine Way-ers (I now know why!) and people often come out just for the night or after a short walk, some bring their children which I think is brilliant! A few mentions of people arriving in the afternoon, getting the fire going then cooking a stew or something on the stove, enjoyed with wine or beers later in the evening. Sounds amazing, I’m going to have to try it one day! I think it’s fair to say I have caught the bothy bug…!

I’m sad that it has got late so quickly, I would have loved more time to enjoy the bothy, but I’m glad I got here at all. I have stuck my head out of the door a few times as the moon is very bright tonight and I can see the forest and the hills clearly. The stars are bright too, as you’d expect in Kielder, although dampened slightly by the moonlight. I can hear the stream gently bubbling and some owls calling, along with the fire crackling. It’s pretty awesome!

Total miles: 11.9
Elevation gain: 1,092 ft
Time walking: 12pm – 5:15pm
Miles to date: 842.2

Today was definitely a day of two halves. As it was a short day and the bothy was so lovely I spent the morning relaxing there, which was beautiful. Sadly, the afternoon’s walk was rather forgettable!

I woke up fairly early to the sounds of Sean getting the fire going and soon enough the room was toasty and I could hear water boiling in the kettle. I lay there for a while just watching the flames and enjoying the warmth and the quiet. It was so peaceful. I was in no hurry to move! Eventually I moved, just to make a cup of tea and to sit in front of the stove contentedly eating my granola. The weather looked good outside although the grass was wet from the drizzle that set in last night. I had to go out to use nature’s bathroom and in trying to find a suitable spot my trousers got soaked from the long grass. While I was out I collected an armful of wood for the fire, a very therapeutic and satisfying task. Next task was to go and collect more water, and I spent a while just enjoying the peaceful and fresh morning while I was there. The simplicity of the morning was beautiful. Wake up, make fire, collect wood, collect water, drink tea, eat food, relax and contemplate life while gazing at the flames. I felt incredibly content.

Back at the bothy I hung my trousers to dry by the fire and gradually packed up my bag, not in any great hurry. I decided I’d make some lunch while I was there and suddenly struck on the amazing idea of making toast! I remembered I had some bread in my bag, so out it came, on a stick, and I toasted it in the fire. Peanut butter on toast. Heaven! Quite possibly the most delicious peanut butter on toast I have ever eaten 🙂

Eventually I really did need to think about leaving so I said farewell to Michael (Sean had left much earlier) and headed back out into the woods, which were silent except for chattering birds and the breeze in the fir trees. The woods were fairly boggy – mainly just over-the-toe boggy but occasionally ankle-deep boggy – but the paths were easy to follow and I enjoyed the woods. After a mile of walking along tracks through the trees the path emerged onto Haughton Common, a large empty moor with vast forests on one side and small hills on the other, golden brown with reeds and grass and the occasional sheep dotted about. Right in the middle there was a tiny stone-walled grassy enclosure with a few birch trees. I thought it looked like it would be a lovely place to wild camp!

The path went back into and through another couple of sections of forest and then came out into a little more moorland (with a very faint path) and then farmland for a few miles. There were some nice bits, like a drop down into a mini gorge to cross a river and back up the other side (where I slipped on some wooden stepping stones and nearly face planted in the mud!) but mainly it was a bit fiddly, muddy and not much to see. There was also a long section on a tarmac track then little road which was a bit tedious. Slight confusion on arriving at Houxty Burn to find the river too wide and deep to ford, it turned out that the PW had forked off slightly earlier to meet a bridge just upstream. Bridge found, problem solved. Then an uphill climb (first real climb of the day, bit of a shock!) to Shitlington Hall and Shitlington Crags where I stopped for a break on the rocks. Another short section across some moorland and I can see Bellingham in the valley, whoop! Unfortunately the national trail’s description of the last mile or so being “contender for ‘worst finish to a PW day’ ” seemed true as it was 2/3rds mile along a busy B-road with no pavement or verge. Yuck!

Still, the final quarter mile was along the big, serene North Tyne river which was very pleasant and then up into town, where there were shops, cafes, a cash machine and a Co-op! What civilisation! I had also arrived only just after 5pm – a relatively early finish – which was a real treat for me. I’m staying in the lovely little youth hostel here, for two nights, and I have stocked up on lots of food! The plan for tomorrow is to eat, rest, catch up on blogs and plan the next few days.

The next leg of my walk will take me on the final three days of the Pennine Way, the most isolated days of them all! I’m praying for some clear nights as the sky is celebrated for its darkness out here and I’d love to do some good stargazing. I’ll stay in Byrness the first night, which is barely a village, then cross the Cheviots over two days. No shops, no nothing, for three days. I’m excited! And I have LOTS of food!

I may not have signal though, in which case there may be a delay in posting blogs, but they’ll come at some point…

Total miles: 13.5
Elevation gain: 2,080 ft
Time walking: 11:30am to 6:30pm
Miles to date: 830.3

Oh my goodness what a stunning day! They say that yesterday is worth it because it brings you to today and I have to say I completely agree! Today was Hadrian’s Wall, a real milestone in my journey. I can now say I have walked the length of Britannia – Roman Britain! It was a brilliant walk today but not an easy one, lots of ups and downs equal only to the coast path. I was thankful that I was splitting the journey from Greenhead to Bellingham (officially one section) into two by staying at the bothy overnight. A lot of people do it in one go (there are limited accommodation options en route unless you stay somewhere along the wall) and that would make it a very long day!

I decided to set off a bit later today as I was really feeling the last few days of long tough walking and I knew it wasn’t the longest day. The pub did breakfast so I made the most of that and as I wandered back to the hostel I spotted Sean sat in the cafe. I popped in to say hello and we swapped stories from the last couple of days. I was reassured to find that he had found yesterday pretty arduous too! He didn’t know about the bothy that I was planning to stay at so I pointed it out on his map and he circled it excitedly, saying he’d take a look.

Eventually I set off and after a short riverside footpath I reached the ruined Thirlwall Castle and joined the Hadrian’s Wall Path. The path climbed steeply up onto my first section of wall, only an earth bank at this point, with fine views, a strong wind and a hot sun. Wow, summer’s back! It was beautiful walking. The wall often curves slightly so you can see it stretching away to the east for miles, up and down over the whin sill escarpment, with expansive sweeps of wilderness on either side. It is a stunning sight! It is also challenging walking. The first few ups and downs were exciting and satisfying, soon I realised that they didn’t lie when they said Hadrian’s Wall Path is a constant series of ups and downs! Sometimes I’d look ahead and half gasp in admiration at the beautiful crags, half sigh in exasperation at the prospect of yet another set of steep climbs. On the flatter sections I power-walked to make up some time so I could take my time along the prettier, harder sections.

It was certainly the busiest section of my walk for a long time, being a sunny bank holiday there were lots of people out walking the wall, albeit mostly confined to 100m either side of the car parks! I met a couple of people actually walking the Hadrian’s Wall Path. The long distance walkers are easy to spot – and it’s not just the big rucksack which sets them apart – they have a slightly weatherbeaten and tired but usually happy expression, muddy boots and various bits of gear or clothes hanging off their packs to air or dry (socks or towels are the favourite). This point marks roughly the halfway point for them and apparently it is one of the best bits. It’s a path I’ve always wanted to do and at ‘only’ 84 miles it now seems very doable. I’m not sure about all those ups and downs though…!

At Winshields Crags, the highest point along the whole of Hadrian’s Wall, there is the option of detouring down to Twice Brewed to the pub (and hostel and campsite where people who break the long section usually stay). I’d debated popping to the pub for some lunch or a drink but it looked a long way down, and what goes down must come back up. Also it felt like I wasn’t making as good time as I’d hoped, even though I wasn’t walking particularly slowly. I guess it’s down to the distance covered on the map being very different from the distance you actually walk if you were to flatten out all the hills. It certainly felt like I had walked a lot further than the 7 or 8 miles Strava told me I had covered! Still, it was only a couple of miles to the point where the Pennine Way leaves the wall and the bothy was only a mile or two beyond that, so it looked like the day would end up being shorter in mileage than I’d first calculated.

I pushed on and after a few more stiff climbs I made it to Rapishaw Gap, where the path leaves the safety of the wall and heads off into the wilderness beyond. It was still reasonably early so I decided I’d continue on for another half a mile and check out Housesteads Fort, supposedly one of the best preserved roman forts of them all. I first went to the little museum and treated myself to an ice cream and coffee (I couldn’t decide between hot or cold so went for both…!), as I couldn’t face walking down the hill to the visitors centre where there was a proper cafe. Excitingly the museum and fort are English Heritage (and National Trust) so my new membership (purchased at Launceston Castle all the way back in Cornwall) finally came in handy again and I enjoyed spending an hour wandering around the tiny museum and watching the short film, learning a bit more about the fort and the Romans in general. They were a pretty impressive bunch! It’s incredible how refined and ‘modern’ they were, nearly 2000 years ago, and I wondered what on earth happened to progress in the thousand or so years in the middle! The museum had some amazing pieces of pottery, tools and weapons and it was fascinating to think about how old they were. After the museum I wandered around the fort itself, which is basically a series of impressive stone walls and building foundations which give a clear indication of the layout of the buildings – barracks, granary, hospital, administration centre and commanding officer’s house. I still can’t get my head around the fact that those walls were nearly 2000 years old, and over 800 roman soldiers and their families lived here. The wall certainly must have some stories to tell!

After the welcome refreshment and history stop it was time to retrace my steps the short distance to Rapishaw Gap and head out beyond the wall. It felt quite strange, to head over the wall and out into the lands beyond! I wondered what it must have felt like all those years ago, leaving the relative safety of the wall to venture into the lands of the barbarians. It certainly felt like crossing a frontier, even today, after the busyness of the wall the sparse lands to the north felt lonely and adventurous. The path crossed a series of ridges running parallel to the wall, gradually bringing me down to lower altitude so that the wall disappeared from view fairly quickly.

A bit of fiddly route finding across some fields (clearly there is at least a little bit of civilisation nearby) and then the path heads up into the huge Wark Forest and shortly after this the footpath to the bothy branches off from the Pennine Way. The bothy is only about half a mile off the path but as usual remains hidden until the last few metres. As I rounded the last corner and spotted the little building, on the edge of the forest overlooking a shallow valley and craggy hills beyond, I was excited to see smoke coming from the chimney – someone had the fire going already! Crossing my fingers that it was a friendly fellow hiker and not a group of drunken rowdy lads (rare but not unheard of), I headed around to the front door and stuck my head in. Friendly fellow hiker, phew! And, not too surprisingly but very welcome, was the sight of Sean’s rucksack on another of the chairs. Reassured that I would be sharing the bothy with two people who clearly knew what they were doing, I plonked my bag down and introduced myself. Michael is a regular user of the bothy and was just out here for a few days for a quiet break. He told me of the best place to get water, a small spring about 100m away in the middle of a field which I would never have known to look for, let alone find, without his directions. He offered me some of his water but me being Miss Independent wanted to go and fetch water herself, so off I trotted. His directions were very good. If you ever happen to stay there, turn left out of the door, over the stile and head diagonally down through the field not quite to the other side, and the spring is by a small stake about 2 metres in front of a taller stake. It’s nothing more than a trickle out of a small pipe, and if Michael hadn’t have cleared it of weeds it would have been easy to miss (unless you stepped into the boggy pool it flows into!). It was crystal clear and cool and although I still filtered it first, it made a change to not be drinking slightly peat and tannin-stained water!

I triumphantly returned to the bothy with my full water bottle and found Sean had returned from wherever he had been. He said he had originally only popped in to see what the place was liked but he liked it so much he decided to stay the night. It certainly is a lovely hut. There are four single bunks and one double, with two small tables, several chairs and a wood burning stove that made the room very cosy. The guys had the kettle going on top of the stove so there was plenty of hot water for a cup of tea. Oh I was in my happy place! We all made our respective dinners, I had a rehydrated vegetable hotpot and the guys used the super hot stove top to cook packets of pasta and rice. It was the perfect evening of conversation, happy munching, fire gazing, reading and just quiet appreciation of the company of likeminded individuals. As it got darker Michael brought out some tea lights and surrounded the room in a lovely warm glow. This is just heaven!

I’m half tempted to take my rest day here, a day early, but with limited proper food and the need to take a bit of time to restock etc in civilisation I’ll need to head on tomorrow. Thankfully it is a much shorter day, only 11 miles, which means I can spend a leisurely morning here. I have a feeling I’ll leave rather reluctantly though!

Total miles: 20.8
Elevation gain: 2,230 ft
Time walking: 9:45am to 7:30pm
Miles to date: 778.4

A long but thoroughly enjoyable day! Not as flat as the national trails website would have you believe (“it’s an unusually flat day, in fact there is more descent than ascent…”) but the climb was so gradual that I barely noticed it and there were plenty of stunning sights along the way, nicely spaced throughout the day. I was incredibly lucky with the weather – today’s walk could be quite miserable in poor weather as there’s a large section of remote moorland and pea-soup fog would make navigation a little harder and hide the incredible climax of the day – High Cup Nick. As it was I was dry until coming down off the last hill, thank you weather gods!

The day started out with a slight shock as we weighed my bag out of interest. It turns out it isn’t 18kg or even 20kg as I’ve been telling people. It’s 23kg! Yikes! No wonder it feels a bit heavy swinging it up onto my back…to put it in perspective that’s an overweight check in suitcase! That was with 3 litres of water though, so I promptly dumped a litre and vowed to make use of my water purification tablets! After that slight amazement I headed out onto the trail feeling well rested and strong after my rest day, looking forward to what lay ahead.

The first few miles went through farm fields and a series of stone stiles (thankfully none as tall as the other day), not the most interesting of walking but fairly easy going which made for a quick start to the day. After a while the path joined the banks of the wide but shallow River Tees which was a pleasant, gently chattering companion, with the path picking its way over a few rocks and tree roots here and there. Three and a half miles in and things start to get interesting….the banks become mini limestone cliffs and the river narrows slightly and becomes more vocal. A couple of small waterfalls provide the warm up act to the first major waterfall of the day – Low Force. I presume it is called Low Force because of its downstream position on the river relative to its rival, High Force, as although it certainly isn’t as high, I think it is more splendid than the latter. It’s certainly easier to view well – a (very bouncy) bridge leads over to a grassy and rocky area which looks over the multiple falls that make up Low Force. I sat there for a while munching on the first half of my picnic (scotch egg, yum! Have never eaten so many scotch eggs in my life!) and just taking in the vibrant energy of the falls.

On the way to High Force, only about a mile and a half upstream along an easy path, I saw a little stoat run along ahead of me and dive into a bush. I haven’t seen a stoat in years! I could hear High Force before I could see it, in fact at first I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get a good view at all! The main viewing point is on the other side of the river, from below, and I remember seeing it from here when we made an overnight stop nearby on our way up to Durham. As it turned out, the path on my current side of the river came out on top of the falls and heading cautiously to the edge (having deposited my bag a safe distance away) I could get a great view down the series of falls from above, a view you can’t get from the main viewpoint. It’s a powerful waterfall! Unlike at Low Force, where the river splits and tumbles over the rock face in different places, at High Force it all pours down the same chasm and is spectacular in its power.

From High Force the path quickly leaves people behind and heads off up the valley, past a busy little quarry and up into a wide dale overlooked by tall but gentle hills and waterfalls on one side and steep limestone crags and purple heather on the other. It is quiet and peaceful, once the industry of the quarry is left behind, and the path is pleasant and grassy with some rabbits for company. After a near miss encounter with a little civilisation (a farm, a bridge, two men fishing and a YHA hostel a quarter of a mile up the road) at Langdon Beck it’s back to wild country again and a riverside path for the few miles to the next highlight – Cauldron Snout, another waterfall to add to the collection. The river flows through a wide, shallow valley here and the wind coming down through the hills was unexpectedly intense. Walking for several miles against a chilly headwind took away some of the pleasure of the otherwise-serene valley, and several rocky scrambles along the river where it ran close to limestone outcrops above also served to slow me down. It was very pretty though and had it not been so windy and had I not planned to stop at Cauldron Snout it might have been a nice place for a lunch stop! Whilst picking my way over the rocks I met a couple coming the other direction. They’d had a disappointing morning, with pea-soup fog up at the top and a tricky scramble down Cauldron Snout. I hoped I’d be more lucky!

A little further on and I was rounding each bend excitedly expecting to see the waterfall. But Cauldron Snout kept itself well hidden until the last minute! I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect but I had been warned of a scramble up the side of it, which I was a little nervous of but I was glad at least that it had not been raining. When I finally rounded the final bend the waterfall did not disappoint. Tumbling water cascaded down over limestone slabs from about 20-30m up, the white of the foam contrasting with the black of the wet rock and the purple heather growing in cracks at the side. The scramble wasn’t so bad – a few bits where I had to pull myself up on my knee using rocks and heather but not as scary as I’d feared. It helped that I could see Eunice waiting at the top for me. Talk about amazing friends – she was staying with a friend in Yorkshire and drove nearly 3 hours (and walked over a mile) to meet me for a picnic lunch and give me a hug! I was thrilled to see her, not just for the hug but also because I hadn’t had phone signal for 3 hours and had no idea if she would actually make it and be able to find me!

It was a welcome stop, sheltering out of the wind behind the bridge with the massive dam of Cow Green reservoir as a view. I was glad of my proper lunch following yesterday’s food shop as I was starving! The last couple of weeks my need for calories has really kicked in and I’m struggling to eat enough. It was as much as I could do not to eat tomorrow’s lunch too but I knew I’d regret it if I did! All too soon I had to head off as I still had another 10 miles to go and some even more remote terrain to cross. Thankfully our pleas to the sky seemed to send the dark clouds the way I had come rather than the way I was going, and I was hoping for a dry end to the afternoon.

The first few miles after leaving Cauldron Snout were along a tiresome gravel track, up over a lovely moor, one side of which was an MoD danger area, warning signs dotted every few metres at the side of the track. The Pennine Way eventually leaves the track and heads down over squelchy ground (cue my first calf-deep sinking of the day) to the banks of Maize Beck which it then follows for a couple more miles. The beck was fairly low and it would have been easy to cross at several points, even when I spotted the footbridge I was tempted just to try to make my way across on the stones, before deciding it would be far more sensible to use the bridge, as it was there. The moor was fairly exposed and I found myself once again being thankful that the weather was clear! It felt like a long way, across that moor, knowing that at the other end was High Cup Nick, a sight that some describe as the best sight along the whole Pennine Way. There is no hint of it though, as you approach. It looks as though you are in a very shallow, wide valley up high, with moorland for miles, but as you start getting closer you start to feel there might be something more up ahead. It looks almost like the route just ends, or disappears over the edge, and suddenly you see what the edge is. The moor ends abruptly, with sheer limestone cliff edges dropping tens of metres to a steeply sloping valley, shallow at this end but deepening dramatically – 100m or more – as it curves away at either side into a slightly pointed U-shape. My first reaction is ohhh, wow, that’s awesome! But as I head around one side, where the path hugs the edge quite closely, the geological beauty just gets more impressive and I can’t help but keep stopping to gawp at it! It’s deeper than I first thought and the steep sides are gouged with scar-like crevices running down the side, presumably full of cascading water during wet periods. A winding stream ribbons at the base of the valley far below and apart from a few sheep dotted here and there it’s completely deserted! No car parks up here..!

The path follows the edge of the valley for a while, fording streams below mini cascades and the occasional small scramble. There were a couple of points where I was glad I don’t suffer from vertigo but on the whole it felt safe, yet thrilling. Sadly the path does eventually veer away from the valley to take a slightly more gentle descent down into Dufton, but as there were some black clouds headed my way it seemed like it was probably a good time to be coming down off the hills! And it really was coming down – for the first time in what seems like forever the land that stretched out in front of me was the patchwork fields of lowlands rather than moorland. I knew I’d be back in the hills tomorrow but it felt strange to be leaving them, however briefly. Out there was ‘normal’ life…up here was peace and freedom!

But descend I must, and the first bit wasn’t too bad, I even had some blue sheep to entertain me. Ok, they weren’t actually blue, but they were so covered in blue paint that for a moment they really did look blue! I also saw some beautiful black horses (Fell ponies, I think) which presumably are owned by someone but were free to roam the moor. The last bit of the descent was along more gravel track and it finally started to drizzle with rain so the waterproofs came out. Gravel track, tough on tired feet, eventually gave way to tarmac (possibly even harder on tired feet) and the rain got heavier until I finally came into the little village of Dufton. The woman in charge of the campsite spotted me coming and took me to a quieter section of the site (apparently they had some groups in for the bank holiday), where I spot a familiar looking tent. Sure enough about 10 minutes later I hear a cheerful welcome in a strong New Zealand accent – it’s Sean, my old-skool tough-as-old-boots Gandalf lookalike! The rain stopped for me to put up my tent and seems to be staying away now. I can cope with that! Sean offers me a cup of tea as he’s making a brew, very welcome as it’s getting late and I need to get my dinner on! So somewhat in reverse, I have cookies with my tea then eat my main course. Exhausted after my long day, I fall asleep whilst writing this blog…! Tomorrow is the toughest day of the route – 20 miles and up over Cross Fell, the tallest point in England outside of the Lake District. Two long days in a row isn’t ideal, but that’s the way it goes!