According to our guidebook and other walkers, the fourth day, between Yetholm and Wooler was the toughest, marching many miles through the hunched hills of the Cheviots. It was also forecast to get warm and sunny later, making walking more tiring.
Motivated to finish before the heat got to us, Nigel and I set off at 8.30 am and absolutely scooted along, barely stopping to check birdsong on Merlin, nor google-lens unfamiliar plants.
On the two occasions when we found ourselves in a field with a very large cow with only one udder and a ring through its nose, I moved even faster.
As a result, we were in Wooler by 2.30 pm - an earlier arrival than on any other day. My joints were aching, and we were both tired, but basically, we felt very pleased with ourselves. We had made light of the toughest day.
Until, that is, we sat down in the hotel and switched our phones on. Then we saw that, Nick, our friend of many years had died from the brain tumour which had laid him low.
In Wooler church, we lit a candle for him. It really had been the toughest day after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment