So Where The Fuck Is Hadrian's Wall?
You know how it is.
Sometimes no matter how hard you try you just can't find the thing that you want.
Well, today was one of those days.
We set out this morning planning a simple day. A day exploring somewhere we had never been before and had always wanted to visit.
For those of you that don't know or understand what or where Hadrian and his wall are then let me explain.
According to Wikipedia, Hadrian's Wall is “a former defensive fortification of the Roman province of Britannia, begun in AD122 in the reign of Emperor Hadrian. Running from Wallsend on the River Tyne in the east to Bowness-on-Solway in the west of what is now northern England.”
In other words, it is an old Roman wall that was built around 1,900 years ago to keep out the rampaging Scottish tribes. Thankfully it is still around and accessible should you want to get out into the rather wild northern countryside and find it.
And in our case, being based in Northumberland for a while, that was exactly what we wanted to do. We decided to find a part of the wall relatively local to where we were staying to visit, hoping to learn a little more about it and find a photo opportunity or two.
At least, that was the plan.
A little online research suggested that a place called Corbridge had strong Roman connections. It sounded like a lovely old historic market town and, according to the details that I read, was close to the wall.
Well, it turns out that some parts of that are correct.
It is a lovely little town. Quaint old streets, beautiful houses, a stunning old bridge across a very fast flowing River Tyne and a few interesting, independent shops with the sort of prices perhaps better suited to London rather than Northumberland. But still an interesting and historic place to visit.
And I should mention that it was full of old people.
As in, people much older than us. So really, really old people.
Always worth stating.
But the part that they got wrong was that it was not on Hadrian's Wall.
They had the remains of a Roman villa, which we walked out to explore, but nothing else. And as the site was run by English Heritage they wanted a significant amount of money just to walk through the gate and see the remains.
So, it was back to the car and on the road to find a real piece of the wall.
A little more research on the phone and we had a post code and set off.
Half an hour on the road and we were almost there when I noticed a brown sign. A sign to Vindolanda.
Now, I've heard of Vindolana. So I thought, yes, that’s a place on the wall, I’m sure it is, I've read about it. So we diverted and followed the signs through small country lanes and up into the Northumberland National Park.
Feeling happier and more confident, we drove along a long, single track lane and arrived in a very quiet car park. No hanging around this time, straight out of the car and into the reception area where we got a warm welcome. I’m not sure if it was English Heritage this time but it was a very smartly presented museum that we entered and they clearly wanted to charge us to visit.
Smiling, the woman asked whether we wanted single tickets or tickets that included access to another museum further along the road.
No, I said, we just want to visit the wall. That's all.
And how we laughed when she told us in a slightly amused way that Vindolanda was actually a Roman fort and was not on Hadrian’s Wall at all. She very kindly shared with us the name of a place only a mile or two away where she was sure we would be able to see it but no, there was no wall where we were.
Back to the car, again, a little more frustrated than before. We found a new postcode online and were straight off, again, on our search for the elusive wall.
Deja vu anyone?
It’s over 70 miles long yet could we find it? Not even close so far.
Now, following a SatNav anywhere is always full of risk. This time it took us along yet more small country lanes and then, just when we were almost where we wanted to be, of course, I managed to miss the turning. It was becoming that sort of day. We drove a further mile and a half along the road before I managed to turn around but, eventually, with just a few swear words, we soon returned, turning into the road as advised.
Except, it was a road to a guest house. There was no car park and no Hadrian’s Wall.
Of course there wasn’t.
A quick knock on the door and we received new directions. “Left onto the main road and the car park was on the left.”
It all sounded simple.
Needless to say, it wasn't there either.
However, and in order not to bore readers any further, we did find the car park eventually. Hidden away on top of a hill at the end of yet another poorly signposted lane.
Who would be a tourist in Northumberland!
We stopped, parked, paid and started walking. Following the signs and a handful of enthusiastic walkers like us, we tried to stay patient whilst looking around us and wondering, “surely, not again?”.
But that was soon to change.
A walk along a path, through a gate marked National Trust: Steel Rigg and then face to face with the most spectacular of views.
Hills. Cliff faces with rubble and scree. A glacial lake, Crag Lough, peeking out from the outcrop in the distance. And curving its way along the path and up onto the imposingly steep hill, there was Hadrian's Wall.
We walked and explored at last.
The wind was blowing, it was chilly for an August afternoon yet it was wonderful. We had to navigate what seemed like an almost vertical set of steep steps up the cliff face at the very start of the walk but we made it. I had to stop half way and let those younger and fitter than me go past. When I did reach the top and found a queue of 10 or more people waiting for me so that they could come down, well, let’s just say that my language was a little expressive!
We found a milecastle, a small Roman fort built into the wall every mile, and also the famous Sycamore Gap, without the Sycamore sadly these days. Both iconic of Hadrian’s Wall in their own ways.
A couple of hours walking with plenty of climbing was not for the faint hearted. We got lost, again, and repeated a few sections. But somehow, after all of our searching and with our rather dubious levels of research (my responsibility) it felt somehow appropriate that our day concluded with an element of hard labour. Pleasurable but physically tough none the less.
We learned some lessons, of course, and my irritation mixed with the embarrassment of a rather obvious eye roll from the receptionists at Vindolanda will be remembered for a while. But perhaps my over riding memory will not be any of this or the spectacular views or even the terrifying climb up the cliff face. It is far more likely to be my frustrated cry of “so where the fuck is Hadrian’s Wall?” as we drove through yet more winding lanes in the wild Northumberland countryside without managing to find it.
