Hadrian's Wall - A Cast of Thousands

When we set off to walk Hadrian’s Wall, one of the things we were looking forward to was conversations with strangers.

As a Celt and a Christian, encounters where two people who do not know one another pause and talk to one another feel sacred to me. 

We were blessed to meet Fenella, on the day we arrived.  She helped us find the bus to Bowness and gave us a wealth of information.  If not for her, we might never have heard how mighty Edward I, Hammer of the Scots, died and lay in state in the little church at Burgh by Sands while his voracious court ate the local community out of house and home, biding time until Edward II was finally located and brought there.

As we left Carlisle, by way of a large park, a Swedish man carrying binoculars told us that close by that spot had been the Roman fort of Stanwix. Although nothing now remained, it had been the largest fort on the Wall, manned by a massive cavalry regiment called the Ala Petriana, ready to ride out and quell the tribes of the troublesome West.

We also met various other walkers, although exchanges were often superficial – how far we had come and the weather outlook.  One young couple we encountered several times.  Good-looking, tall and tanned, their accents were Southern European. We met them first when they were waiting at a gate, hoping for company to help them cross a field of over-friendly horses.  Whenever we saw them again, they always seemed to be just ahead of us, admirable as the woman was walking Hadrian’s Wall in flip-flops.

The hosts at our Bed and Breakfast stops also had tales to tell. One couple even had the story of how a Mr and Mrs Johnson had booked in for a weekend and they found themselves unexpectedly playing host to Boris and Marina.  It was interesting to hear about how their businesses worked and at St Marys Vale, Lanercost, we particularly enjoyed meeting both Deborah (pictured) and her extraordinary coloured Ryeland sheep. 

One of the most memorable stops was with Les at The Old Repeater Station, near Housesteads.  After the toughest day, we felt welcome in his book-lined home, alone in many miles of wild pastureland. (The Repeater Station was originally built to relay telephone signals.)  

And it was Les we met again on our very last day.  Pascoe had joined us in Newcastle for the end of our walk, and we were in the Hancock Museum, just looking at the very long scale model of Hadrian’s Wall and congratulating ourselves on our achievement.  As we pointed out the Old Repeater Station, Les himself appeared.  ‘I’m having a day off and I’ve brought my grandson to the museum!’

Were we somehow living through a Hollywood movie where all the significant characters contrive to reappear for a heart-warming last scene?  We looked about us, half-expecting to see Fenella and the Swedish guy.

But no, it was just Les.  Nice to see him again though.