22nd August .The End of Hadrian's Wall Path.

I packed up in the rain and with brolley in hand stsrted walking over cow mud poached fields to Kirkandrews on Eden,  it was not fun either in doing or seeing. The path to Beaumont had been diverted due to rain causing a land slip but I was happy to trudge the road instead. It was all so dreary today,  the weather and route and I felt the pack was twice as heavy.
At Burgh by Sands the St Michaels Church was interesting as I dumped my pack and wondered around it but concous there was a service on and sadly not a wedding. An old boy gave me a wee bit of history of it. It was fortified in the 14th century a.d built of Hads Wall , probably why I haven't seen it for ages!
I retrieved my pack walking the almost exclusive elongated village. Next to the pub , the name of which fails me,  was a statue of a very bold looking in full armour King Edward 1st. He died near abouts of dysentry,  not really the glorious death he no doubt would of chosen.
The next 4 miles are along tidal flood road with signs such as if the water is here it is three feet at its deepest. Really this only happens on spring tides half a dozen times a year. It was amazingly flat and the Solway and Scotland were now in view. Most of the villages understandably were built on raised land and half eay along was Boustead Hill,  hardly a hill but a foot high is a hill in these parts. There was a shelter at the junction and at 10.50 I made good use of and sat looking over the Solway and the cows grazing nearby. There was an embankment I could of walked on but it was so chewed up by cows that I chose the road instead even with the cars flying down it as if worried the sea would cut them off. For me it was head down and walk.
An hour later I trudged into Drumburgh. A national trail acorn sign with service centre got me wondering about,  is it where path repairs head quarters is? As it was it was a small like farm shop which sold canned drinks , tea and coffee machine and other supplies and you pay an honesty box. Obviously being of an honest disposition I drop my money in the box and downed the ginger beer. Outside by some picnic benches were some apple trees of which I pinched one walking on munching.
The next two miles were a waste of time ,taking me inland on a dog leg walking chunky gravel track and past piles of farm waste. To cap it when I left the track it was a boggy cow chewed up mud and sopping ground. If I had known how pointless it was I would of walked the more direct road. The one bonus was I heard the Yellowhammer again.
At Glasson I passed the Bonnie Prince Charlie pub which was open but I thought as I was fairly close to finishing I would celebrate in Bowness.
I walked a road passed a empty looking caravan park and with the constant showers I was getting I dont think business was that good.
Just before Port Carlisle I hit the Solway shore. Port it is no longer but once was apparently with also a train line running by.
One and a half miles further on I walked into a dreary end of the road sort of place that had nothing going on at all to celebrate. I walked to the banks and the official end of the Hadrians Wall Path getting an American to take my photo which I almost smiled in.
There were two Americans who had just finished doing the Walk. They had done it over 3 years in short stints which they got their travel company to arrange together with b and b.
What was strange was how clean they looked ,even their boots where my leggings and boots were mud splattered. Maybe they had been piggy backed.
I stated I was off for a celebratory pint then but was informed the pub opened at 4 , it was now 1.30. There was a tea room which opened at 2. There was nothing else, no post office, no shop. I did find a toilet in the hall and kicked my wet boots of and played with my smelly feet for a while to kill time.
At 2 I was second in the queue at the rather very english tea room. Again I kicked my boots off and put my crocs on to look civilized in such quaint surroundings. It was also a  b and b and although tempted thought the 30 +  cost eas to much for me.  The two Americans turned up and went and sat in the residents lounge. I had about four elegant cups of tea and a fresh warm scone which was delishous.
I started walking directly south at 3.10 feeling tired and worn out. I was now heading for the Lakes to pick up the Cumbria Way. Now this was hard work,  drudgery,  boring and on fairly straight,  which means fast cars,  road. The heavy showers did not help and the brolly was forever up and down.
It was 4 and half miles to Kirkbride much of it on auto pilot. My guts were playing up and I was belching ginger beer apple.  On walking into the village with a for sale sign on the pub my first mistake was to blow off.  In normal circumstances it would be a problem but here I was back packing and unable to clean myself up. Even the pub was closed. With clenched cheeks I wondered on and discovered a post office shop.  I purchased when a post card for Mon and drink and asked if there was a loo in the village. They let me use theirs in the back yard. There I was able to let go as it were and then clean me and the toilet up- what a relief.
I carried on finding it hard hoing and having to encourage myself on verbally GET ON ROGE ! GET GOING! Of course heavy rain showers. At about 5 the showers stopped and I found that if I swung my arms my legs followed. Cars whizzed by and I willed myself on but had to stop. I lay with head on pack and could easily fallen to sleep. My feet were not bad and just passsed the Bird in Hand pub I asked a farmer stood near his gate reading the newspaper.
He gave me water and i went to a field as instructed quarter of a mile back at the cross roads.
The wet tent soon went up and I bundled all in,  cleaned myself up and then went for that pint at the said pub to celebrate eight miles on from the end of the path.
I struggled to finish my Carlisle  State beer I just had no appetite for anything but bed. I left at 8.30 to the second field on the right with round hay bales.  Sleep!

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