tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40468524908185186752024-03-08T17:34:22.225+00:00Northern Light - Mountains and PhotographyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-14210543131542599112015-06-06T23:48:00.000+01:002015-06-07T10:06:51.614+01:00In Search of Anthony H. Wilson's headstone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in February, whilst in Manchester for a funeral, I decided that the time had come to track down Tony Wilson's headstone. He is buried in Manchester's Southern Cemetery, and the funeral was due to take place at Manchester Crematorium, next door to the Cemetery. It occurred to me, the day before the funeral, that a recce to find the Crematorium would give me an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone (if that is not an inappropriate metaphor).<br />
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Tony Wilson died in 2007, but his headstone was not erected until 2010. It was designed (in what might be seen as a Factory Records swansong) by Peter Saville, the designer responsible for the majority of the graphic design (posters, record sleeves, Hacienda decor) for Factory Records. It took him <a href="http://www.anothermag.com/art-photography/2651/peter-saville-on-tony-wilsons-headstone" target="_blank">three years to arrive at a design</a> that satisfied his own need for the memorial. Being no-longer resident in Manchester, I had never found the opportunity to visit the grave. I did some research (or what nowadays passes for research - I Googled it) and found some interesting online articles, as well as information about the locations of not only <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=21757722" target="_blank">Tony Wilson's headstone</a>, but also <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=27709578" target="_blank">Rob Gretton's</a> and <a href="http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=27703709" target="_blank">Martin Hannett's</a> graves, both in Southern Cemetery too. A very interesting fact to emerge from this 'research' (interesting to me anyway) concerns the <a href="http://www.factoryrecords.net/catalogue/" target="_blank">Factory number</a> of the headstone. Factory Records instituted a policy of numbering almost every artefact that they produced - FAC 1 was the poster, designed by Peter Saville, to advertise the opening night of the Factory Club in Hulme; FAC 51 was the Hacienda nightclub. When Wilson died, his casket was given the final FAC number, FAC 501, and his family decided that there should be no more. So even though it might have been apposite, not to say expected, that it should be numbered, his headstone was not given a FAC Number.<br />
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(Just to illustrate that not everyone in the world believes that the sun shines out of Tony Wilson's behind, the <a href="http://www.creativereview.co.uk/cr-blog/2010/october/peter-saville-anthony-wilson-headstone" target="_blank">Creative Review blog</a> published a post about the eventual arrival of the headstone. Somebody calling himself 'Shaun' (Shaun Ryder, lead singer Happy Mondays?) posted a comment:<br />
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"They could at least have fitted it with a mechanism whereby everything surrounding it disappears up it's own arse too.")<br />
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Classic!<br />
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Anyway, armed with the information that Wilson's grave is in Plot B, Gretton's is in Plot G, and Hannett's is in Plot FF, I set out to Chorlton. After an hour wandering around in the drizzle and gathering gloom of an archetypal Manchester February day, I had to admit that it was not as obvious as I had hoped, and I left it for another day.<br />
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The next time that I had a chance, I determined to examine every headstone in Plot B (according to the info that I had, there are more than 1800 graves on Plot B). Sadly, a further hour and a half (on another drizzly afternoon) failed to turn up the headstone. I had to face facts - either I was looking in the totally wrong place, or the headstone had been stolen. (Not as outlandish as it might sound - the commemorative stone to <a href="http://www.macclesfield-express.co.uk/news/local-news/new-stone-laid-curtis-memorial-2533607" target="_blank">Ian Curtis in Macclesfield Crematorium</a> was stolen in July 2008). I needed more information.<br />
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Further research (Googling) found more-detailed directions, and a <a href="http://lwtua.websitetoolbox.com/post/locations-of-graves-5038227" target="_blank">map of the cemetery</a> (see above) showing approximate positions of the three graves. Closer inspection of the map showed me why I had so comprehensively failed to find Wilson's grave on the previous two visits - his grave is in a different Plot B to the one I had searched! Why would you have two different Plots B? One for the Catholics, and one for the Protestants, of course!<br />
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Well, now furnished with accurate information, I was in Stockport at the end of May. On my way home on Bank Holiday Monday, the fact that it wasn't raining persuaded me to take a short detour to the cemetery and try my luck for a third time. Bingo! I found Tony Wilson almost immediately, and while taking a couple of snaps was approached by a woman (of about my own age) who regaled me with tales of the Hacienda in its heyday.<br />
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I then made the long walk to the north side to find Martin Hannett, which was trickier because he is in the middle of his Plot; and last but not least, back to the main cemetery to find Rob Gretton.<br />
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The story of Martin Hannett's headstone is a rather sad one. He died in 1991. In January 2008 Tony Wilson's first wife, Lindsay Reade, was visiting Wilson's grave in Southern Cemetery. She decided to call in on Martin Hannett and Rob Gretton as they were part of the reason Tony chose to be buried there. She had to get help from the cemetery office for location, but found them both, and was horrified to discover that Martin Hannett was lying in a totally unmarked grave. Her visit set off a chain of events which led to Martin getting a fitting memorial in December 2008. You can read more at the <a href="http://lwtua.websitetoolbox.com/post?id=2409852" target="_blank">Joy Division Central</a> website.<br />
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As it turned out, May 15th. was the anniversary of Rob Gretton's death, so his grave was rather overwhelmed with flowers. I still managed to get some picturess. I'm not sure of the fascination, because clearly I am doing it for me rather than the deceased, but I am pleased to have found (and photographed) the graves.<br />
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On the basis that one is never satisfied, I would like to go again when the light is better. Wilson's headstone, particularly, being highly polished, offers intriguing possibilities for reflections.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-63659840958280956372015-06-04T15:09:00.001+01:002015-06-04T15:13:11.705+01:00Hadrian's Wall - after the dust has settled.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQxO0GmvRH8/VXBVan3KN8I/AAAAAAABzl8/N4ipiVlp0v0/s1600/_DSC0415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="456" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQxO0GmvRH8/VXBVan3KN8I/AAAAAAABzl8/N4ipiVlp0v0/s640/_DSC0415.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at this lot - they have no idea what they have let themselves in for! The fools!</td></tr>
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Since posting my account of the Hadrian's Walk, I have had some feedback from people who have had an opportunity to read it. Generally, those responses have been positive, and quite a few people have made the same observation - a variation on the theme of "Sounds like you had a good time".<br />
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Now that some time has passed, and the aches and pains have subsided, I am able to look back and reflect on the overall experience. And having thought about it, I am prepared to say that I did indeed have a good time; but I would not go so far as to say that I enjoyed the walking. My main problem was not fitness per se. I was fit enough to survive the ordeal, without being fit enough to find it easy. Couple that to the fact that, in my younger days, I was fit enough to achieve more with less effort, and I have to acknowledge that I am not as young as I once was.<br />
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However, that wasn't the problem. The thing that gave me most trouble was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meralgia_paraesthetica" target="_blank">meralgia paraesthetica</a>. This is a condition caused by the hip belt of a rucksack compressing the lateral femoral cutaneous nerve (which runs over the hip). This results in altered sensation in the thigh and hip of the affected nerve (or nerves). This sensation can apparently range from discomfort, through burning, right up to electric shock-like pains. I find it rather ironic that it gave me so much trouble on Hadrian's Walk, when as a much younger backpacker I used to carry much heavier rucksacks much more often without difficulty. The discomfort started on Day 1, and continued right through to the end of the walk (and beyond). I have only myself to blame; because I wanted to photograph the journey, I carried with me my camera, lenses, and small tripod, thus adding to the overall weight on my back. I (foolishly) assumed that, because I used to do it with such impunity, I would still be able to do it today.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tricky lighting under broken cloudy skies</td></tr>
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Anyway, as already stated, one of my principal aims in embarking on the Walk was to photograph the journey. I am not at heart a 'documentary' photographer, or a photographer of people, or of activities. So why, you might ask, did you set out to make a photographic record of a walk across the North of England along the line of the Roman Wall? Good question. In days of yore, it was one of my greatest pleasures to spend nights out on the summits of mountains, and photograph the sun going down, then rising again the following morning. In landscape photography circles, that last hour around sunset and that first hour of dawn is often referred to as the 'magic hour'. The sun is low in the sky, the light is usually warmly coloured, and there are often attractive atmospheric effects like clouds or haze to enhance the appearance of the scenery. It occurred to me that, in the same way as staying out on mountain summits, walking along the Wall would put me in the ideal position to photograph the landscape of the Roman Wall in the best possible circumstances. What I singularly failed to anticipate was the fact that I am not actually prepared to stay out late any more. Once I had reached our destination each evening, I felt very little inclination to go back outside to take photographs. I was much more interested in having my dinner and a few beers in the comfort of a warm pub.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disappointingly unsharp, one of the risks of not using a tripod</td></tr>
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But that's why I planned the Walk from East to West, so that I could take advantage of the better lighting offered towards the end of each day as the Sun got lower in the western sky. In actuality, the weather proved more challenging than I had wished for. To be fair, as mentioned in the daily accounts, our Roman weather god <i><b>Deus Meteorologicus</b></i> was pretty forgiving, and we had more sunshine and less rain (and snow!) than we might have expected. However, the rapidly-changing lighting conditions, dark cloud turning rapidly to bright sunshine and back again, did cause me problems with camera exposure. You see, I had chosen this week to begin experimenting with the manual exposure controls of my digital SLR!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before and after Photoshop - manual exposure error</td></tr>
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In the olden days of film, all my chosen cameras were manual exposure. I was thus very familiar with using manual exposure in whatever lighting conditions, and anyway, you expected to get a proportion of your exposures wrong (we called it bracketing!) I used the technique all the time, and I never had to think about it. Then along comes an all-singing, all-dancing electronic camera. Before I knew what was happening, I was using the digital SLR in Programme mode, not only allowing the camera to make exposure decisions on my behalf, but to do all the focussing, too! The automation certainly makes life a whole lot simpler when I am photographing the car trial events that I go to watch (see the 'Links' page of my <a href="http://glennbennettstrialcarphotos.webs.com/" target="_blank">Trial Car Photos website</a> to see my online photo galleries). But having grown reliant on those automatic features, I have to some extent lost whatever abilities I may have had in using the camera manually, particularly with regard to responding to fast-changing conditions. So - perhaps the one week of the year when I was going to be taking photographs of a never-to-be-repeated, once-in-a-lifetime trek across Hadrian's Wall was not the ideal time to choose to start messing about with camera exposure settings!<br />
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The upshot of all this has been to leave me a little disappointed with my photographs. I can't think of a single, outstanding, classic shot out of all of them; there are many with inaccurate exposure, which will require a lot of work within Photoshop to bring them closer to "the picture in my head"; there are many shots "missing" - I can remember being there, but I don't seem to have a picture of that place or that incident; and, perhaps most damningly of all, it seems that I have lost that urge to be there at the dying of the light, and so I have no sunset or sunrise shots. However, as and when time permits, I intend to go through all the photos of the trip. I want to weed out the unworthy, tweak the fair-to-middling ones into some semblance of acceptability, and eventually to re-upload the improved versions into the day-by-day albums on my Picasa gallery. In which case, I hope that interested parties will check back now and again to see what progress has been made.<br />
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So to return to the original question: did I have a good time? On the final day of the Walk, as we were crossing the fields into Glasson I think, I asked the question of my fellow <i><b>Wallers Hadriani</b></i>:<br />
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"Ignoring all other commitments, work, family and so on, if you could have two days of complete rest at Bowness-on-Solway, would you just turn around and walk all the way back to Newcastle?"<br />
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Everybody said no. But I would have been prepared to do so, which must say something about whether or not I had a good time an the Wall. It may also say something about my fundamental inability to face-up to real life and the real world; but despite all the discomfort, the poor weather, the strong winds, even my disappointment with the photographs, I did have a memorable Walk along the Wall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the broad wall meets the narrow wall at Planetrees</td></tr>
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I wouldn't want to do it again, though. Basically, the three days in the middle (where some actual Roman Wall still exists) are good. The other four days, the two out of Newcastle, and the two past Carlisle, are a bit of a waste of time. I am pleased to have done it once (because now I know that I don't have to go back). When I do return, it will be to spend time visiting the forts and the museums, and not worrying so much about walking along the Wall. I know the parts of the Wall that are most interesting, and I will return to them for photographs, at better times of the day when the light may be better.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qefby6D552w/VXBVRtVQxII/AAAAAAABzl0/VCIMWUarRQo/s1600/_DSC0678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qefby6D552w/VXBVRtVQxII/AAAAAAABzl0/VCIMWUarRQo/s400/_DSC0678.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corbridge Church</td></tr>
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And I definitely wish to go back to Corbridge. It will make a good base from which to get to see more of the area, and certainly has pubs to which I would like to return. And who knows, with the pressure off, I may find that the desire to stay out late returns and I finally find some of those pictures that I didn't get this time.<br />
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Whilst writing up the story of our Wall Walk, I discovered the following websites, some of which you might find interesting:<br />
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<a href="https://perlineamvalli.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Per Lineam Valli Along the line of the Wall</a><br />
<a href="http://www.roman-britain.org/frontiers/hw_guide.htm" target="_blank">Hadrian's Wall - Guide Vallum Hadriani - Itinerarium</a><br />
<a href="http://www.northofthetyne.co.uk/indexHWC.html" target="_blank">Hadrian's Wall Camera</a><br />
<a href="http://www.walkingenglishman.com/ldp/hadrianswall.htm" target="_blank">The Walking Englishman Hadrian's Wall Path general information site</a><br />
<a href="http://www.walkingenglishman.com/hadrianswall01.html" target="_blank">The Walking Englishman Hadrian's Wall Path</a><br />
Stage 1 of an account of three blokes walking the Wall in 2012. The person writing the account makes frequent reference to 'the Vallum', when he is mostly actually talking about the North Ditch. Otherwise, the account is quite interesting. To see further stages, scroll to the bottom of each page and click on the 'Continue along Hadrian's Wall' button.<br />
<a href="http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/hadrians-wall-path" target="_blank">The National Trail Hadrian's Wall Path guide</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-44068472541307734342015-05-28T12:54:00.000+01:002015-06-04T14:36:33.152+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 7. Thursday April 30th. 2015. Last day so far!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Carlisle to Bowness-on-Solway. 14.5 miles (23.2 km), 300 ft (95m) ascent</b></i></span></div>
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The final day of the Hadrian's Walk started badly. The lack of a firm plan led to confusion, dithering, and ultimately a very unsatisfactory start to the last leg. Decision by committee can be very trying. In this case, the deciding about what to do about breakfast, having not made any definite arrangement the night before, resulted in rising earlier than expected (for me, anyway), and a very poor breakfast at the coffee stand on Carlisle Railway Station platform. It could have been so much better.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Past the Cathedral</td></tr>
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But at least it got us all out of the Travelodge and onto the road, and well before our usual kick-off time of 9.30am (09.08 according to <a href="http://www.photometadata.org/meta-resources-metadata-types-standards-exif" target="_blank">EXIF</a>) we were making our way through Carlisle's pedestrianised city centre, past the <a href="http://www.carlislecathedral.org.uk/" target="_blank">Cathedral</a>, towards the Castle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FsaOTGaeVqw/VWBiR-MHLPI/AAAAAAABzUI/NOT8G3sqEQQ/s1600/_DSC1816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FsaOTGaeVqw/VWBiR-MHLPI/AAAAAAABzUI/NOT8G3sqEQQ/s400/_DSC1816.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Through the underpass</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">En-route to the river Eden </td></tr>
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Through the underpass to the <a href="http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/carlisle-castle/" target="_blank">Castle</a>, left along the main road, across the bridge over the railway and the River Caldew, then right onto Bridge Lane. This becomes Willow Holme Road, and at the Stagecoach Bus Depot we turned left into the jungle and followed a footpath through the industrial estate until we emerged onto the bank of the River Eden.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The church in Burgh-by-Sands</td></tr>
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Our route now, quite pleasantly, followed the Eden for a while. The weather was neither one thing nor the other - a few spits of rain, the odd splash of sun, the wind still cold and in our faces. We followed the river until we reached the village of Grinsdale (to my disappointment, not 'Grimsdale' with the consequent possibility of a sighting of Norman Wisdom) then made our way across the fields to Kirkandrews on Eden. From here, the route of the Path should have led us along another section of the river bank, but because of a reported landslip, a diversion took us out onto the road for a distance. This took us into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burgh_by_Sands" target="_blank">Burgh-by-Sands</a> (burgh pronounced <i>bruff</i>), where the bus shelter made a convenient place for a lunch stop.<br />
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I took the opportunity to get some photos of <a href="http://www.visitcumbria.com/car/burgh-by-sands-st-michaels-church/" target="_blank">St. Michael's Church</a>, which by its own admission was built from stone taken from the Roman Wall. The church tower, itself a defensive pele tower in its day, is now arranged as a small museum, with information about the church, the Romans, and the days of the Border Reivers. The church is definitely worth a return trip, even though physical evidence of the Roman Wall is largely absent all along this section of the Path.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The statue of Edward I</td></tr>
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The sign in the church also tells of <a href="http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/4460870" target="_blank">King Edward I</a> who, after dying whilst on the marsh, was brought to the church and lay in state on July 7th. 1307. Soon after setting off again after lunch, we came to the Greyhound Inn, beside which stands a statue of Edward. The statue was sculpted by <a href="http://www.chelseabookfair.com/p/art-exhibition/christopher-kelly" target="_blank">Christopher Kelly</a>, given to the town by Story Construction Ltd., and installed as part of the 07/07/07 commemoration of the 700th. anniversary of Edward's death. After taking a few photos, we got back under way, and after passing Longburgh found ourselves on the margin of the Burgh Marshes.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the Roman Wall - a disused railway</td></tr>
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Our path lay along the raised embankment of what turns out to be a disused railway - unfortunately not, as I would have preferred, the remains of the Roman Wall. The weather continued to be reasonable, with odd spots of rain here and there, a few sunny spells, but still windy.<br />
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Because we were on the final day, and because the landscape was so flat, time seemed to pass slowly, distant objects remained distant, seeming to come no closer, and the miles crawled by.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drumburgh Castle</td></tr>
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We rambled through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drumburgh" target="_blank">Drumburgh</a>, passing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drumburgh_Castle" target="_blank">Drumburgh Castle</a>. Hadrian's Wall Path then took us off the road and into the fields again, passing through Glasson, until finally we reached <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Carlisle" target="_blank">Port Carlisle</a> (only a mile or so to go).<br />
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A short distance beyond the remains of the old <a href="https://skippy.org.uk/canal-routes/canals-and-waterways-alphabetical-index/carlisle-canal/" target="_blank">Carlisle Canal</a> there is a signpost. It is intended for tourists, similar to the one at Lands End, and has finger signs pointing in many directions. For a donation, you can have your team photographed in front of the sign with your home town name and distance showing. Carol and Dave reached the sign first (I was still adrift in the rear taking photographs) and they must have told the Sign Man something about Dave's origins in Yorkshire. By the time that Fiona and Dermot reached the sign, the Sign Man had started spelling out Huddersfield, but Carol and Dave had moved on, and no amount of persuasion could convince them to retrace their steps for a team photograph. So the team shot would have to wait until we reached the pub in Bowness-on-Solway.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearly there! (But always only ever here)</td></tr>
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That last mile was the longest of the entire journey. But, a mere seven days after taking our leave of Newcastle, we finally arrived at our destination. Entering Bowness, a sign on the right announces 'Hadrian's Wall Promenade' and The Banks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ave Terminum Callis Hadriani Augusti Pervenisti</td></tr>
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Fiona and Dermot (sore feet singing in concert) favoured getting straight to the pub, but Carol, Dave and I wanted to see what marks the terminus of the Wall Walk. We found a hut, the entrance bearing a sign: "Welcome The End Of Hadrian's Wall Path"; and also in Latin: "Ave Terminum Callis Hadriani Augusti Pervenisti".<br />
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The floor of the hut is covered with an attractive mosaic, with the legend 'Ave Maia' at each entrance. <a href="http://www.roman-britain.org/places/maia.htm" target="_blank">Maia</a> was the terminal Fort at this, the western end of Hadrian's Wall. In common with the remains of the Wall throughout this Solway section, there is nothing to be seen of the fort today.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final team shot</td></tr>
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Carol, Dave and I therefore repaired to the <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g2178665-d4259057-Reviews-Kings_Arms-Bowness_on_Solway_Cumbria_England.html" target="_blank">King's Arms</a>, Hadrian's favourite pub in Bowness-in-Solway! The present landlady has taken over the pub only relatively recently, and the <a href="http://www.kingsarmsbowness.co.uk/" target="_blank">website</a> that crops up from a Google search is now very out-of-date. The King's Arms is a Jennings house, and on the day we visited had only Cocker Hoop on draught. However, there was also 'Shipyard American Pale Ale' available as keg draught, and Marston's 'New World' on the rack - sadly not available to drink, though.<br />
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So we had a couple of beers, took the final team shot, and just after 5.10pm. caught the number 93 bus back into Carlisle. The bus journey passed through almost every sort of weather, and we were treated to a bright rainbow for a brief spell.<br />
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We were back in Carlisle in time to catch the 18.30 train to Oxenholme, and that got us into Oxenholme by 19.15. The bike was still where I had left it, so I rode down the hill and picked-up the car. I then returned to the station, and had collected everyone, the luggage, and had them back to our house by 19.40. Carol and Dave decided not to eat with us, but to go straight home. And that's where it ended.<br />
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<a href="http://allpoetry.com/The-Hollow-Men" target="_blank">This is the way the Walk ends - not with a bang but a whimper.</a><br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay7?authkey=Gv1sRgCIXQ3-STqKzyxAE" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>.<br />
Dave's photos of the walk can be seen in <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102413932144856488435/HadriansWallWalk?authkey=Gv1sRgCLjJuLXj5I6kxgE&noredirect=1" target="_blank">Dave's album</a>. <br />
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Total distance walked: 87.5 miles (140 km)<br />
Total ascent: 5000 ft (1540m)<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-36796347699571118442015-05-22T14:49:00.000+01:002015-05-28T13:11:37.660+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 6. Wednesday April 29th. 2015. Five down, two to go.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eYEJUh-4PZw/VVUUf_3zynI/AAAAAAABzKQ/ch5vAEGP9bw/s1600/Day6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="366" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eYEJUh-4PZw/VVUUf_3zynI/AAAAAAABzKQ/ch5vAEGP9bw/s640/Day6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Banks to Carlisle. 14.5 miles (23.2 km), 400 ft (125m) ascent</b></i></span></div>
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Today's stage into Carlisle (and the following day out to the coast at Bowness-on-Solway) was going to be hard. Not because the walking itself, or the terrain, would be the most difficult yet encountered. To the contrary, we were now out of the High Country, and the nature of the walking would become increasingly mundane as we neared civilisation. But, we were by now five days in, and even with only two more to go, we had reached that point in the journey where, although fitter and more accustomed to the daily rhythm of walking, we were also more tired. So with less to stimulate us and encourage us onwards, the effort required to simply get going would be greater than on earlier days. The sore feet were still sore, the rucksacks were no lighter, and Hadrian's Wall was not going to walk itself, Barb!<br />
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After a comfortable night, we were up for breakfast at 8.00am. as usual. The weather, on waking, was overcast and showery, but some breaks appeared in the clouds while we were eating, and Dave even managed to get outside for a photo of the B&B during one of the sunny spells. Booted, suited and loaded up, at 9.30am. we set off in sunshine. We got rain quite soon, though, and the early part of the day was characterised by much stopping and starting to put on and take off waterproofs.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The renovated Wall at Hare Hill</td></tr>
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First place of interest was only a short distance into the walk, at <a href="http://www.britainexpress.com/attractions.htm?attraction=3542" target="_blank">Hare Hill</a>. The Info sign told us the following: "This was once thought to be the highest surviving section of Hadrian's Wall but in fact, it was largely rebuilt in the 19th. century. A building stone on the North face of the Wall, bearing the inscription PP, records that this stretch of Wall was originally built by Roman legionaries under the Primus Pilus, the chief centurion of a legion."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Milecastle 54</td></tr>
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Shortly thereafter, approaching the site of Milecastle 54 (sadly nothing is visible of the remains) we were hit by a very heavy, very cold shower of barely-melted hail; after that, though, the weather became generally dry, with spells of good sunshine. The wind, true to recent form, remained strong, cold, and from the West, and shelter was hard to find.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow-covered Blencathra visible in the distance</td></tr>
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We could tell, though, that the weather was unseasonably cool, because of the evidence of snow on the tops of the distant Lake District peaks, particularly Blencathra, which was prominent on the skyline all day long.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dovecote Bridge, below Walton Church</td></tr>
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All suggestion of the Wall proper effectively disappears from Hare Hill on, but it is still possible to identify sections of the North Ditch and the Vallum from the traces of dyke and earthwork that remain. At <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hadrian%27s_Wall_at_Dovecote_Bridge_-_geograph.org.uk_-_668717.jpg" target="_blank">Dovecote Bridge</a>, approaching the village of Walton, there is a grassy mound which conceals an extant section of Wall. The Info sign tells the story: "Until 1983, this stretch of Hadrian's Wall was the only visible part of Cumbrian red sandstone. It had been exposed for nearly 20 years, and in that time the weather had seriously damaged the stones. To preserve what remains the Wall has been reburied."<br />
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Until just past Blea Tarn Farm, the Path continues to follow the line of the Roman Wall, and we had lunch (in an attempt to find shelter from the wind) in what was possibly the North Ditch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blea Tarn, and the earthworks marking the Wall</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.bleatarnpark.co.uk/Bleatarn%20Park%20History%20Hadrian%27s%20Wall.htm" target="_blank">Blea Tarn</a>, now a boggy depression below the present-day farm, was a quarry for the stone used to build this section of the Wall, and the presence of the Wall is still visible in the ditches and earth mounds. Not long after this, the Hadrian's Wall Path deserts the line of the Wall itself, and heads off towards Carlisle along a variety of footways, including the bank of the River Eden.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The decoratively carved gravestone in St. John's Church</td></tr>
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To reach the Eden, we passed through the village of Low Crosby. Dave's eye was caught by an intriguing carved gravestone in the <a href="http://www.britishlistedbuildings.co.uk/en-77663-church-of-st-john-stanwix-rural-cumbria#.VV8IPkZXpQc" target="_blank">Churchyard</a>, bearing a detailed relief of a Dove and a tree. Being a wood-cutter by profession, Dave was duty-bound to take a photo. After the Church, the temptation of calling in to the Stag Inn was fiercely resisted, on the sensible grounds that: a). we would arrive in Carlisle sooner; and b). we would save ourselves for the Moo Bar in the evening. A visit to the <a href="http://www.moo-bar.com/#!carlisle/c1cim" target="_blank">Moo Bar</a> in Carlisle was high on the list of priorities.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Eden by the Rickerby Bridge</td></tr>
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Fiona and I first discovered the Penrith Moo Bar in August 2014, and when we found out that there was a Moo Bar planned for Carlisle, we knew that our beer destination was ordained for when we reached Carlisle on our Hadrian's Walk.<br />
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We crossed the Eden at Rickerby Park, then followed directions from Fiona's phone to find the Carlisle <a href="https://www.travelodge.co.uk/hotels/362/Carlisle-Central-hotel?gclid=CjwKEAjwp_uqBRClvrrXmsbPog4SJACK4gIPNIR7fbBJ0993csnUbT5eyhVJ7EDeGcAPFclmuGyjThoCDUrw_wcB" target="_blank">Travelodge</a>, our home for the night.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travelodge room - basic, but comfortable and cheap</td></tr>
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Minor panic at reception when it took several guesses to remember the name under which I had made the original booking! Then it was up to our rooms for tea, showers and a change of clothes, before meeting back in the lobby for 6.00pm.<br />
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From there, we set out to find Moo Bar for a couple of beers, before then finding a restaurant for dinner.<br />
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To my surprise, Moo Bar had a huge selection of beers on offer, most of which, sadly, were not as interesting as their names might suggest (or perhaps my taste buds were just becoming jaded from all the walking!). Thankfully, Thornbridge's Jaipur was available, and remained so (and on good form) all night.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Today's Team Shot - not so many smiles!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Masala Bazaar, bright and colourful Indian Restaurant</td></tr>
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We had spotted an Indian restaurant, not far from the bar, as we were heading to the Moo Bar, so we decided to try there for our food. The <a href="http://themasalabazaar.co.uk/" target="_blank">Masala Bazaar</a> turned out to be a good choice. The decor and design of the restaurant is very eye-catching, using lots of bright colours and large, bold artworks on the wall. It was not busy, so we were able to get a table with no difficulty, and our orders were taken and the food served very quickly - just what you want after a day on Hadrian's Walk, building up an appetite.<br />
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After food, back to Moo Bar for more beers.<br />
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Two young lads, one of whom was carrying a guitar case, came to sit at the table beside ours. The Moo Bar has a number of games available for customers to play, and the boxes were on a shelf behind our table. The two lads asked if we would pass them one of the games, which we did, but it was only a matter of a few minutes later that they were packing that one away and asking for a different game. Dermot made a comment about the fact that young people have very short attention spans nowadays, and one lad (who we soon learned was called John) said: "You sound like me Dad!", and we all laughed. The lads then got up to leave, and Dave commented that he had expected them to play something on the guitar. Against all my expectations (at eighteen, how many of us would have the confidence, the brass neck, to sing a song for strangers "who sound like me Dad" - not me!) John, as he now introduced himself, asked had we heard of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Band" target="_blank">The Band</a>? Of course we had, but the surprise should have been that John had - even allowing for their second lease of life, at the Band's final break-up in 1999, John would have been only a year or two old! Anyway, he played "The Weight", and barring one or two moments of "not too sure of the words" made a very creditable fist of it. It seemed to make Dave's night, as he cited the song as his "best bit of the day".<br />
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It was raining on the return to the Travelodge, and we went to bed before making proper arrangements for the following morning.<br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay6?authkey=Gv1sRgCLDTyNW6zPW_QQ" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-23159257609277421032015-05-20T22:23:00.000+01:002015-05-28T13:26:13.083+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 5. Tuesday April 28th. 2015. Our spring is sprung.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njtUOjYPztM/VVUUfuxrJGI/AAAAAAABzJ4/OQBmLvMTKf8/s1600/Day5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-njtUOjYPztM/VVUUfuxrJGI/AAAAAAABzJ4/OQBmLvMTKf8/s640/Day5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Twice Brewed to Banks. 13.5 miles (21.6 km), 1200ft (370m) ascent</b></i></span></div>
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The amazing thing about a night's sleep is what a difference it can make. You think that you have had a hard day, you are exhausted and you are never going to recover. But you have a shower, a good meal, a night's sleep, and when you wake the following morning you feel ready to do it all again. Of course, you realise that it's not going to be easy; the blisters are still going to feel as if you are walking over razor blades; your rucksack straps are still going to pull your arms out of their sockets; and yet ... you're still not ready to throw in the towel. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ascent from Winshields Campsite back up to the Wall</td></tr>
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Snow had continued on and off overnight, but by dawn it had turned to intermittent rain. Breakfast was at 8.00am. in the dining room, and as I have already mentioned, served by the same young man who had been on bar duty the previous evening. Breakfast was good - I was again treated to a couple of croissants to go with my cereal and toast - and by the time breakfast was over the weather was starting to brighten up. As we resumed our journey, it was cold and windy, wet underfoot, and with a few spits of rain on the wind. Walking uphill past Winshields Campsite soon warmed us up and got the early morning stiffness out of our legs. We encountered a large group of schoolkids with their teachers as we began the ascent back up to the line of the Wall, but we took a different route up the hill and so left them behind. I did not envy the teachers the job of keeping tabs on such a group of children, particularly with the weather as it was - "Are we there yet?" We could see them, periodically, in the distance behind us, and continued to do so until we had passed Caw Gap.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fast-moving patches of sunlight, and the Whin Sill continues ahead of us</td></tr>
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This part of the Walk, continuing along the ridge of the Whin Sill, proved similar in character to the previous day. Good going underfoot, very varied terrain, great views all round during the spells of good visibility, and surprises at every twist and turn, and every rise and fall. And once again, Deus Meteorologicus was more generous than he might have been, but today was the day that brought home to us the penalty of walking the Wall from East to West. Had we been here a week earlier, we may not have given it a second thought. Today, though, strong Westerly wind made the day cold, and in the occasional snow showers, positively painful as the snow, hail and rain was driven straight into our faces. But we were also rewarded with some brilliant sunshine, accentuated by black and threatening skies, and dramatic skyscapes as the clouds were hurried aloft by the turbulent air. All-in-all, an exciting day to be on the hill.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Precipitation within sight!</td></tr>
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We were overtaken by the first of the heavy snow showers on the section over Cawfield Crags, between Caw Gap and Cawfield Quarry. Out of a blue sky, seemingly materialising out of thin air, precipitation was in sight. It was on us so quickly that I was still in the process of donning my waterproofs as it struck, and so fierce was it that, in spite of my wish to try to get some photographs from within the maelstrom, I could hardly hold the camera still enough to compose a<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still in sun behind us to the East!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quick snap in the whirling white</td></tr>
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In the end I had to settle for a couple of 'point and hope' shots of Fiona and Dermot below me in the white-out, and a couple of shots with my back to the storm. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to the wind and try again</td></tr>
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At that point discretion seemed the better part of valour, so I put my camera out of harm's way and finished putting on my waterproofs. According to the EXIF data from the digital photo files (digital photography - don't you just love it?), the shot of 'precipitation within sight' is timed at 10.44; and the shot looking down on a sunny day over Cawfield Quarry is timed at 11.03. So the whole episode, from start to finish, sun back to sun, took less than twenty minutes. In next to no time, we were drying out, and moving on to our next destination.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The barrage lessens ...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and the sun returns</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunshine on the Milecastle and Cawfield Quarry</td></tr>
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Cawfield Quarry and Walltown Quarry are two fascinating, not to say controversial, locations on the Wall. Fascinating because of the drama they lend to the landscape; controversial because between them, in fewer than 100 years, they have been responsible for the destruction of more of the Roman Wall than the previous 1700 years put together. As the Info sign in Cawfield Quarry succinctly observes: "The quarry worked until 1944, showing how different attitudes were then to such an important archaeological site!" You can find more about Cawfield's history at the <a href="http://www.irsociety.co.uk/Archives/17/Whinstone.htm" target="_blank">Industrial Railway Society</a>, and from a couple of entries on the Durham Mining Museum website - <a href="http://www.dmm.org.uk/colliery/c802.htm" target="_blank">Entry 1</a> - <a href="http://www.dmm.org.uk/minequar/3701-01.htm" target="_blank">Entry 2</a>. Walltown Quarry, where again the Roman Wall is literally left hanging on the edge of the modern quarry face, is harder to find information about. There is a reference to the destruction of the Wall, though, at the bottom of this page of <a href="http://haltwhistle.org/wotbott/page31.html" target="_blank">Haltwhistle's town website</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3uVgcfJoxrY/VVo-IXUB56I/AAAAAAABzQ8/yUd0pUF-6gs/s1600/_DSC1378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3uVgcfJoxrY/VVo-IXUB56I/AAAAAAABzQ8/yUd0pUF-6gs/s400/_DSC1378.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walltown Quarry - the Roman Wall hangs over the top left of the crag</td></tr>
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The wind continued to harry us all along the ridge, with bursts of blinding sunlight in between black cloud and sharp showers. We stopped for lunch at the Walltown Quarry car park. The descent from the remains of the Roman Wall above the modern quarry effectively marks the end of the Whin Sill, and thus the end of the drama and excitement of the high country. From here on we saw a return to the more rural surroundings of fields, fences and stiles, though true to its nature the Path still cleaved closely to the line of the Wall. And, to be fair, we were not yet finished with the Wall. We still had the Willowford Bridge crossing of the River Irthing, Birdoswald Fort, and regular appearances of the remains of Turrets and Milecastles to look forward to; they would just no longer be situated in the upland wilds.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Philippus built this</td></tr>
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The Willowford Wall remnant, and the remains of the bridge that carried the Wall across the River Irthing, are very impressive. Incorporated within the wall of one of the farm buildings at Willowford is an incised stone, obviously 'rescued' from the Roman Wall. It records the fact that "Phillipus built this".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willowford Bridge abutments</td></tr>
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The new footbridge that carries the Path over the river is also not without interest, and almost as soon as you reach the West bank of the river, you find yourself at Birdoswald Fort. This deserves a return visit, because we were not able to give it the attention it demands. As we arrived, the sky turned black, and (again before waterproofs could be fully deployed) the deluge was on us once more. It began as snow, big wet flakes clumping together. It turned for a while to soft hail (little white lumps that, if you examine them under a magnifier, resemble nothing so much as the Apollo capsules from the NASA moon landings) which hurt in the wind, and eventually to cold, persistent rain. This storm lasted a lot longer than the earlier one on the Whin Sill - there is a spell (EXIF data again) of 55 minutes during which I did not take any photographs - and we were all glad to eventually see the back of it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daffodils on the green to greet us in Banks</td></tr>
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So finally the rain stopped, the skies brightened, and the sun reappeared. The Path along this stretch involves some road walking, as well as the by-now-classic narrow strip of grass along the road side, so we were becoming wearied as we began the final couple of miles to Banks, our destination for the night. There were still plenty of signs of the Wall all along here, including glimpses of the earthworks of the Vallum. Finally, after passing <a href="https://perlineamvalli.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/wall-mile-52-2/" target="_blank">Milecastle 52</a> and Turret 52a, (<a href="https://www.dur.ac.uk/resources/archaeological.services/research_training/hadrianswall_research_framework/project_documents/Milecastles.pdf" target="_blank">click here to see a pdf, from Durham University, concerning Milecastles along Hadrian's Wall</a>) we made the short descent into Banks in a burst of sunlight, passing daffodils on the green to find <a href="http://www.quarryside.co.uk/" target="_blank">Quarryside B&B</a>. <br />
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Greatly relieved to have made it, we were welcomed by Elizabeth, our landlady for the night, and ushered into the warmth of the house with offers of tea and coffee. After taking our bags to our rooms, we all decamped to the sitting room for hot drinks, cakes and biscuits, and to find out about the arrangements for the evening meal.<br />
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In a corner of the sitting room was an attractive, small, stained-glass widow, which caught some late sunlight and made for an unexpected photograph.<br />
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After a refreshing cuppa, and when we had all bathed or showered, David, Elizabeth's husband, ferried us to the pub for dinner. Because there were five of us, he had to make two trips, so Dermot, Carol and Dave went first, and Fiona and I were delivered about fifteen minutes later. The pub we were taken to is <a href="http://www.beltedwill.co.uk/" target="_blank">"The Belted Will Inn"</a> in Hallbankgate, about five or so miles from Banks. Elizabeth and David have had the arrangement with the pub for some years now: they shuttle their guests to the pub, and the landlord of the pub returns the guests to Quarryside after dinner. (The only shortcoming with this system is that the return to the B&B was earlier than we would have chosen if we had been under our own steam. In all other senses it is excellent, because it allows an overnight stay in an area that would otherwise prove problematic to visitors who are on foot, and have no access to a car.)<br />
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The pub was quiet, and (from our point of view) had unfortunately had a very busy weekend. Unfortunate, because there was only a single real ale on draught (Thwaite's Wainwright), and also a dearth of bottled beers. This meant that, disappointingly, we could not buy any bottles to take with us back to the B&B. Now to be fair, there was nothing wrong with the Wainwright, it's just not one of our favourite beers. We were pleased to drink it, we were all more than satisfied with our meals, and we had an enjoyable evening in the pub. The landlord, also the chef, gave us our lift back to Quarryside when he had finished in the kitchen for the night, and during the drive told us more about the pub and the local area. Elizabeth was around when we arrived back, and kindly provided us with tea and coffee before we all retired for the night.</div>
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Day 5 had been a challenging day, arguably the hardest day of the whole walk. It was certainly the day of the worst weather, and involved a lot of ascent and descent. But, like the day before, it was packed with incident and interest, and many details to remind us how impressive was the Roman achievement in constructing the Wall. The next two days to the finish were going to be anti-climactic.<br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay5?authkey=Gv1sRgCPDFsLWPr9ry4AE" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-28818886114414806472015-05-17T00:25:00.000+01:002015-05-28T13:34:16.986+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 4. Monday April 27th. 2015. Hope springs eternal.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iWbz1tsP0io/VVUUesii4hI/AAAAAAABzKE/kNFjCpFHIAI/s1600/Day4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iWbz1tsP0io/VVUUesii4hI/AAAAAAABzKE/kNFjCpFHIAI/s640/Day4.jpg" width="640" /> </a><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Humshaugh to Twice Brewed. 12.5 miles (20 km), 1300 ft (400m) ascent</b></i></span> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Booting up before departure</td></tr>
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We were up and ready for breakfast at 8.00am. and it was another glorious morning. Sunny, clear blue sky, and though it did not survive long, there had been a frost overnight. Breakfast was good, in the sunny dining room at the foot of the stairs. The chef serving the breakfast (presumably the partner of Val, the landlady) was chatty and amusing. When he discovered that some of us were from Cumbria, he commented that Dave looked like Chris Bonington! After breakfast we packed and were ready to go by 9.30am. Dave and I wanted some pictures of the pub in the morning sunshine, and while we went for those, the others called at <a href="http://www.humshaughshop.co.uk/" target="_blank">the shop</a> for essential supplies.<br />
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Today's section of the Wall was already, at least in part, familiar to Fiona and me. We had visited the area a couple of years ago, and had walked several miles along the Wall from Winshields Crags to Housesteads Fort. We thus knew that the day would be demanding, with a lot of ascent and descent, as well as being along the top of the Whin Sill Ridge. However, we also knew that there is a lot more of the surviving Wall in this part of the country, so even though we had a difficult day in prospect, it was going to be packed with interest, dramatic scenery, and Roman remains. And so, not without some apprehension, we were off along the first couple of kilometres of quiet lanes, until - yes, you guessed it - the first stile of the day took us off the road near Walwick Hall.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roman Wall near Black Carts</td></tr>
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To begin with the Path followed the familiar pattern of the previous days: North Ditch to our right, Miltary Road to our left concealing the Roman Wall, and sometimes visible still farther left, the line of the Vallum. After about three more kilometres, approaching Black Carts Farm, a substantial <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milecastle_29" target="_blank">section of surviving Wall</a> could be seen some way off in front of us, set some distance away from the modern road. For whatever reason, General Wade's road builders had not seen fit to utilise this part of the Wall as foundations for their road. That was to our advantage, though, because we now had the bonus of the Wall remnant to admire as we passed by.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Limestone Corner</td></tr>
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Not much farther on, we encountered the extraordinary litter of boulders that is known as Limestone Corner. There is more information about the place to be found on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limestone_Corner" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>, but Limestone Corner (it is a corner on the line of the Wall, but it is not limestone) marks the most Northerly point on the Wall. The reason that the ground is covered in rocks is apparently due to the fact that the Ditch (which is from where the rocks were dug) was never completed, with the excavations simply abandoned where they lay. A fascinating place, I found myself pondering the life of a soldier in the Roman Army, specifically of the Legion responsible for the building of this part of the Wall. A hard life, to be sure, and possibly a dangerous one, but knowing what we do of Roman civilisation, with its bath-houses, underfloor heating and engineering know-how (what have the Romans ever done for us?) perhaps it was a life of some comfort and security, particularly when off-duty and back in barracks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temple of Mithras</td></tr>
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The views all around were expansive along this section of the Wall, and as the weather continued sunny, the visibility remained good. Many interesting things to photograph, including a number of isolated groups of trees, which for some reason kept reminding me of paintings by Paul Nash. (<a href="http://www.nashclumps.org/" target="_blank">More about the artist here</a>). Although the weather was sunny, the wind was persistent and cold, and did not encourage us to stop for long in any one spot. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8IPnQgOM6Dc/VVd7H7yz5tI/AAAAAAABzN0/d8hdFPtWzXc/s1600/_DSC1066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8IPnQgOM6Dc/VVd7H7yz5tI/AAAAAAABzN0/d8hdFPtWzXc/s400/_DSC1066.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Paul Nash Clump</td></tr>
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We soon came to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrawburgh" target="_blank">Brocolitia</a> (where there s a car park) and the Path took
us past the Temple of Mithras, an Eastern Sun god popular with soldiers.
A few kilometres later, with the ascent of Sewingshields Crags looming,
we made a stop for lunch, in an angle of the roadside wall in a futile
attempt to find some shelter from the nagging wind. Needless to say, we
didn't stop for long, and we were soon beginning the climb up the long
slope towards Sewingshields.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch in the Wind Tunnel</td></tr>
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Amazingly, the remainder of the ridge passed remarkably straightforwardly. Given that we still had around 9 km. to go (almost half of the day's distance) and still had the bulk of the ascent (and descent) to accomplish, the task never felt like we couldn't manage it. We just got on with it, and the miles passed beneath our feet. Over Sewingshields, looking down on Broomlee Lough; past <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vercovicium" target="_blank">Housesteads Fort</a>, and along Hotbank Crags. The sky was clouding over, and the wind felt colder, but we still got short bursts of sun, illuminating small fragments of the landscape around us.<br />
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On the approach to Sycamore Gap we were overtaken by a tall, lanky European man, looking for "the tree from the Robin Hood movie". Luckily, having some knowledge of the area, I had a vague idea as to how far we were from the Gap, and so gave him directions. As a group, we were moving more slowly than he was, and he continued on his way alone, but soon returned saying that he had not found the tree. So, as we were going that way, we invited him to accompany us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vgRt1lYq6B4/VVd7Iaxz6ZI/AAAAAAABzOo/MEsY8_T4Hoc/s1600/_DSC1113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vgRt1lYq6B4/VVd7Iaxz6ZI/AAAAAAABzOo/MEsY8_T4Hoc/s640/_DSC1113.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the Whin Sill, beyond Broomlee Lough, from Sewingshields Crags</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x_MAzJScohM/VVd7JXlSLsI/AAAAAAABzOM/rzqeWaWeXrY/s1600/_DSC1121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x_MAzJScohM/VVd7JXlSLsI/AAAAAAABzOM/rzqeWaWeXrY/s400/_DSC1121.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Housesteads Fort, just South of the Roman Wall</td></tr>
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In conversation, I discovered that he was from the Netherlands, on holiday in Rothbury, and had walked along the Wall from Housesteads in his quest to find the Robin Hood Tree. He was interested in the fact that we were following the Hadrian's Wall Long Distance Footpath. He told me about the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Four_Days_Marches_Nijmegen" target="_blank">Vierdaagse</a>" (Dutch for "Four day Event"), which is an annual walking event that he likes to take part in, and he also revealed that he had ambitions to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostela after retiring.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending from Hotbank Crags, with Crag Lough beyond</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Given the coincidence, I of course explained to him that Dermot had similar ambitions, and that we were using the Hadrian's Wall walk as a taster event: if Dermot enjoys Hadrian's Wall, then he may enjoy the (considerably longer) Camino. The Dutchman and I were in front of the rest of the group, so when we reached Sycamore Gap, I waited for the rest to catch me up. Our new-found Dutch friend dropped down to the tree to take his photos, and eventually, calling out his goodbyes, he set off back towards Housesteads.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sX8GQQ43iKk/VVd7KDSE2ZI/AAAAAAABzOs/nUsc2JXQAI4/s1600/_DSC1165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sX8GQQ43iKk/VVd7KDSE2ZI/AAAAAAABzOs/nUsc2JXQAI4/s400/_DSC1165.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crag Lough, Winshields beyond, including Milecastle 40!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From Sycamore Gap, Fiona, Dave and I continued on along the top of Peel Crags, while Carol and Dermot opted for the slightly lower, slightly more direct, parallel path of the Roman Military Way.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7hz90sBKntw/VVd7KYu6FrI/AAAAAAABzOc/wGq53KAgHpE/s1600/_DSC1194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7hz90sBKntw/VVd7KYu6FrI/AAAAAAABzOc/wGq53KAgHpE/s400/_DSC1194.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sycamore Gap, the now-famous 'Robin Hood tree'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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They consequently got down to the <a href="http://www.twicebrewedinn.co.uk/" target="_blank">Twice Brewed Inn</a> about ten minutes earlier than we did, but we were all down and installed behind a table with a beer in front of us before 5.15pm.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nYB-5OIx3Bo/VVd7KwSa6SI/AAAAAAABzOw/FCBQN0huEX0/s1600/_DSC1204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nYB-5OIx3Bo/VVd7KwSa6SI/AAAAAAABzOw/FCBQN0huEX0/s400/_DSC1204.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At last - the Twice Brewed Inn!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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While we all had definitely found it to be an arduous day, the combination of terrain, scenery and weather made it surprisingly enjoyable. We kept well to time, and the calculated distance was close to that measured by the app. on Fiona's phone. One unexpected (and frankly unbelievable) result: the app. claimed that the altitude climbed for the day was nearly 1500m!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRMvEqyylOA/VVd7L6-2VeI/AAAAAAABzPM/IxOzPO8O90w/s1600/_DSC1207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRMvEqyylOA/VVd7L6-2VeI/AAAAAAABzPM/IxOzPO8O90w/s400/_DSC1207.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room (sans facilities) in the Twice Brewed</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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After a couple of beers we checked in to our rooms. For the sake of economy, we had chosen to book rooms without en-suite facilities, which meant that we had to make use of communal showers and toilets. Given that there were some other guests also staying that night, and also opting for shared facilities, we ended up with nine people sharing two showers and two toilets. Carol and Dave found another toilet and shower later, but in retrospect, we would have been wiser to accept the extra cost, and book rooms with en-suite facilities. When you are cooling-down and stiffening-up at the end of a hard day's walk, the last thing you want is to have to queue for your shower. There was little wrong with the facilities (although it was difficult to control the temperature of the showers), just a pain to have to wait. We won't make that mistake again.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sHIOPjfApqM/VVd7LxXQjwI/AAAAAAABzO4/P0GmvRh_bfs/s1600/_DSC1224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sHIOPjfApqM/VVd7LxXQjwI/AAAAAAABzO4/P0GmvRh_bfs/s400/_DSC1224.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team Shot - Day 4, still smiling</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And so: showered, changed, refreshed, we all met back in the bar for food. The food proved to be very good, and we were all very satisfied with our meals (particular mention must be made of the pies). While we were eating, the weather closed-in, and (not entirely unexpectedly) snow began falling steadily. In spite of the damp conditions, it started settling, and a dusting even covered the road for a time. It never seemed at risk of blocking us in (we were, after all, on foot), but it did seem quite wild for a time.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcbrulVdscA/VVd7MXHT_bI/AAAAAAABzPE/0UdlLCovKYE/s1600/_DSC1237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcbrulVdscA/VVd7MXHT_bI/AAAAAAABzPE/0UdlLCovKYE/s400/_DSC1237.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The snow settling over Hadrian's Wall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had a very enjoyable stay at the Twice Brewed (and I believe so too did the others). Much credit for this must go to the young man with the fashionable stubble who was working behind the bar. To my shame I did not find out his name, but he was very good at his job - a conversationalist, prepared to discuss the beer, friendly, and not obsessed by his phone, unlike many young bar and restaurant staff these days. And to cap it all, not only was he there behind the bar when we retired to bed, he was there again in the morning to serve the breakfasts. Kudos. Best beer of the night - Sonnet 43 India Pale Ale.<br />
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So the end of Day 4. We were all properly tired now, with blistered feet, aching shoulders, and sore legs. But we were still mobile, still up to the job in hand. We were almost at the official Roman half-way point, and would pass Roman Milecastle number 40 on Winshield Crags (also the highest point on the Wall at 345m) in the morning. From there on, it was all downhill!<br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay4?authkey=Gv1sRgCIqGsdzM0-S5TA#6143813706703439938" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-72190384764485759732015-05-15T17:51:00.001+01:002015-06-04T14:30:15.030+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 3. Sunday April 26th. 2015. The tough do not really get going.<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CVz3pCuV-RA/VVUUemLUwDI/AAAAAAABzKM/dRNn1_n_7wM/s1600/Day3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="380" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CVz3pCuV-RA/VVUUemLUwDI/AAAAAAABzKM/dRNn1_n_7wM/s640/Day3.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b> Corbridge to Humshaugh. 10.2 miles (16.3 km), 550 ft (170m) ascent</b></i></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A8d18YuhU_Q/VVYT3JSNtVI/AAAAAAABzLw/Xz_H8bEhBYc/s1600/_DSC0656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A8d18YuhU_Q/VVYT3JSNtVI/AAAAAAABzLw/Xz_H8bEhBYc/s400/_DSC0656.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast in the sunny dining room at <a href="http://www.fellcroft.co.uk/" target="_blank">Fellcroft</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We were up for breakfast at 8.30am. the following morning (well, it was Sunday!) Outside, the sun was shining out of a clear blue sky, and though it had been cold overnight, it looked like it was going to be a glorious day. The forecast was still predicting showers, and the wind, still from the West, would make things seem cooler than the forecast suggested. Today would be the first day that the remnants of the Roman Wall started to appear, so the prospect of sun and blue skies, even if only temporary, was attractive.<br />
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None of us had any wish to make the return walk back to the Wall Path via the endless and tedious road down which we had journeyed the day before. There were alternative routes out of Corbridge that would return us to the Wall Path, and it would have been possible to do so without seriously extending the overall length of the day's stage. But that would entail missing out a section of the trail, and opinion was strongly in favour of picking up the Path where we had left it. Fortunately, a different solution was at hand. Tove - Mrs. Brown - told us that the local taxi driver would drive us, and our luggage, back up to the Wall, and drop us at whatever point we chose. However, there were five of us, and the taxi would only take a maximum of four, thus necessitating two trips. Tove, though, was kind enough to offer to take one of our number at the same time as the taxi, thus saving us time, and money. Because of prior commitments, the taxi was available at either 9.15am. (too early for my slow-coach habits) or 11.00am. We therefore opted for 11.00am. and Tove suggested that we load all our rucksacks into her car, which would allow us to walk into town unladen, have an hour or so to sit in the sun or explore Corbridge, then meet her and the taxi outside the church at eleven o' clock. So we did.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z1ertVzgtE/VVYT3ZT_T5I/AAAAAAABzLo/q1LGQevv0vU/s1600/_DSC0660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z1ertVzgtE/VVYT3ZT_T5I/AAAAAAABzLo/q1LGQevv0vU/s400/_DSC0660.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking into Corbridge in the sun</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It was pleasant to walk, even if only for a short distance, unencumbered by rucksacks. The wind was sharp, but the sun was generating some real warmth, as we walked into Corbridge. We had a bit of a wander about, Dave and I got some photos, and we generally took things easy for an hour. We knew in the backs of our minds that we still had ten miles walking to complete before the day was out, so true relaxation evaded us. The time soon passed, and at the appointed hour Tove and the taxi pulled up beside the church. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XqEqy_Yybes/VVYT3ScB6nI/AAAAAAABzLs/YaU14NQGKiY/s1600/_DSC0669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XqEqy_Yybes/VVYT3ScB6nI/AAAAAAABzLs/YaU14NQGKiY/s400/_DSC0669.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hear no, see no, speak no evil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In ten minutes we were back at the far end of the road that had cost
two and a half hours of our lives the day before. The taxi ride cost us a
tenner (a bargain at twice the price!) and all too soon we were loaded
up and under way. While it was impossible to ignore completely the sore
feet, the aching shoulders, and the twinges in ankles, knees and hips,
the sun continued to shine, and that was much more pleasant than we had
been expecting. The week previously, the long-range weather forecast had
been filled with dire warnings of low temperatures and snow fall.
Today, though, <i><b>Deus Meteorologicus</b></i> (as the Romans would
say) was smiling upon us, and other than a few spits and spots of rain
and hail, we got away with it all day.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KFpO4xLjfm8/VVYT4PdLdHI/AAAAAAABzL4/H0rA7xYAz1I/s1600/_DSC0704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KFpO4xLjfm8/VVYT4PdLdHI/AAAAAAABzL4/H0rA7xYAz1I/s400/_DSC0704.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little strip of grass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Initially the Path continued, much as we had become accustomed, as a strip of grass alongside the road. Not very inspiring, but the prospect of the first examples of recognisably Roman remains was sufficient to keep us going. In addition, though, to the things that we were looking forward to, some things conspired to put a dampener on things; and one such plague on everyone's leg joints was the plethora of stiles provided for crossing the many field, road and path boundaries! You have to suppose that cost was a factor, but why use a sensible gate when yet another bloody stile will do the job? Days 3 and 4 were the worst offenders, but stiles cropped up at many points all along the trail, and it's only as you get a little older that you start to realise just how many obstacles there are to simple pedestrianism.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aqtq5eY6650/VVYT4UDzDTI/AAAAAAABzL0/sBB21biyoyM/s1600/_DSC0723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aqtq5eY6650/VVYT4UDzDTI/AAAAAAABzL0/sBB21biyoyM/s400/_DSC0723.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vallum earthworks near Carr Hill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The first obvious Roman relic that we discovered today was the massive Vallum earthworks just West of Carr Hill Farm. The map shows the nearby presence of milecastle 21, and Onnum Roman Fort. On the ground, though, the only obvious features (and they are OBVIOUS) are the ridges, ditches and mounds marking the line of the Vallum along this stretch of the Wall. The Hadrian's Wall Path through this region follows the pattern that became familiar yesterday, with the tarmac of the Military Road marking the line of the Wall proper, and to either side are signs of the North Ditch and the Vallum.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCmAQ8AtF6U/VVYT4lQeoRI/AAAAAAABzMA/WIof09IGXEM/s1600/_DSC0740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCmAQ8AtF6U/VVYT4lQeoRI/AAAAAAABzMA/WIof09IGXEM/s400/_DSC0740.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Errington Arms</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not far beyond the Onnum Fort, we reached <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portgate" target="_blank">Port Gate</a>, marked in our
modern day by the passage of the A69. Today's A-road follows the line of
the Roman Road known as Dere Street, and the Port Gate was built by the
Romans to control trade and traffic across Hadrian's Wall. We
discovered a more modern attraction sitting astride the line of the
Wall, the <a href="http://www.erringtonarms.co.uk/" target="_blank">Errington Arms</a> public house. We took advantage of it being
lunchtime, and called in for a beer.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DJHKQvcp9OY/VVYT5BPqLgI/AAAAAAABzMM/zYlpcNeaCLI/s1600/_DSC0778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DJHKQvcp9OY/VVYT5BPqLgI/AAAAAAABzMM/zYlpcNeaCLI/s400/_DSC0778.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Precipitation within sight - time for the waterproofs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The afternoon continued in much the same vein. The undulating nature of the terrain, the fact that the path was more often than not on grass, and the continuing fine weather and associated good visibility made the walking today much more to everyone's taste - it was even possible to forget about blisters for short periods.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W2XWUqveh_U/VVYT5d099DI/AAAAAAABzME/YJnHFCfnXB4/s1600/_DSC0791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W2XWUqveh_U/VVYT5d099DI/AAAAAAABzME/YJnHFCfnXB4/s400/_DSC0791.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending towards St. Oswald's, first view of the Whin Sill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We eventually passed the St. Oswald's Tea Rooms, followed shortly
thereafter by St. Oswald's Church itself, at which point we began the
gentle descent towards the valley of the North Tyne. Down past a tractor
ploughing a field, across the road, and so to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planetrees_(Hadrian%27s_Wall_section)" target="_blank">Planetrees</a>.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dReUUifynaw/VVYT59_YKCI/AAAAAAABzMQ/vYDzLFvqfEk/s1600/_DSC0824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dReUUifynaw/VVYT59_YKCI/AAAAAAABzMQ/vYDzLFvqfEk/s400/_DSC0824.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 'broad' Wall meets the 'narrow' Wall at Planetrees</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Here we find a
surviving fragment of the Wall, and the Info sign tells us the
following:<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>"After 3 metre wide foundations were laid along most of
Hadrian's Wall, the building of the 'broad' Wall began. At some point,
perhaps to save time and resources, it was decided to continue with a 2
metre wall on the existing foundations. Here at Planetrees, you can see
where the 'narrow' Wall joins the 'broad' Wall."</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuGKYXG4_So/VVYT6WH8vrI/AAAAAAABzM4/93BDOFMpRk0/s1600/_DSC0830pan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuGKYXG4_So/VVYT6WH8vrI/AAAAAAABzM4/93BDOFMpRk0/s640/_DSC0830pan.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending into the valley of the North Tyne</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdwJhX4Hhnc/VVYT66gO4rI/AAAAAAABzMY/DlaW-QAU6ig/s1600/_DSC0864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdwJhX4Hhnc/VVYT66gO4rI/AAAAAAABzMY/DlaW-QAU6ig/s400/_DSC0864.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The foundations of 'Chesters Bridge', Roman crossing of the North Tyne</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Below Planetrees, the Path takes you away from the line of the Wall, and
along a couple of minor roads. This appears to be, ostensibly, to take
you past 'Brunton Turret', another surviving remnant. But I suspect that
it is more to do with the fact that, when the National Trail Path was
being established, a local landowner did not want to allow the public to
have access over their land. When you finally reach the bridge at
Chollerford, another Info sign invites you along another 1 km. path to
view the remains of <a href="http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chesters-bridge-abutment-hadrians-wall/history/" target="_blank">'Chester's Bridge'</a>, the original Roman crossing of
the North Tyne. Dave and I opted to take the detour, while the others
chose to continue up to Humshaugh and find the B&B. The bridge
remains are very impressive, and well-worth the extra effort to get
there. We took some pictures before setting off back to the road to
follow the others up to find our B&B.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XAU9cf21Wf4/VVYT7P8agbI/AAAAAAABzMg/t4zrA3JZBcM/s1600/_DSC0876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XAU9cf21Wf4/VVYT7P8agbI/AAAAAAABzMg/t4zrA3JZBcM/s400/_DSC0876.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room in Mingary Barn</td></tr>
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Up through the village, past the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Crown-Inn-Humshaugh/155257574497907" target="_blank">Crown Inn</a> (where Fiona had taken the
precaution of booking us a table), and finally to <a href="http://www.chollerfordbedandbreakfast.co.uk/" target="_blank">Mingary Barn</a>, our
accommodation for the night. It turned out to be another pleasant place
to stay. We got ourselves settled into our rooms, showered and changed,
and then to the pub for dinner.<br />
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Fiona's idea to book a table turned out to be a very clever move. We arrived at the pub during what turned-out to be the the inaugural monthly "Open Mike Night". Once a month, on the last Sunday of the month, an opportunity for local musicians and singers to just turn up and play. The place was packed, noisy, and (no bad thing given the unseasonable low temperatures) warm.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggBfQu0PsrM/VVYT8AJPvCI/AAAAAAABzMw/dQV0Ri1mktQ/s1600/_DSC0952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggBfQu0PsrM/VVYT8AJPvCI/AAAAAAABzMw/dQV0Ri1mktQ/s400/_DSC0952.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The team, looking better, after dinner and some beers</td></tr>
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Our table was waiting, so at least we had somewhere to sit, and there were three real ales available. Food was good, beers were good, music was a bit much, but did give the opportunity for some photos, and the performances ended at 9.00pm. The pub was much quieter after the music ended, so somewhat more relaxing for the <i><b>Wallers Hadriani</b></i> recovering from their day's exertions.<br />
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And so Day 3 draws to an end. We were all still upright, still going well, and nearly half-way along the Wall. The day had proved easier than it might have been, with better weather, good scenery, and better spirits than Day 2. What will Day 4 bring?<br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay3?authkey=Gv1sRgCIvVo_3R1Nm0DA#6143786832594494802" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-61690792103550824392015-05-15T12:02:00.002+01:002015-05-15T12:03:18.374+01:00Newsflash!Hadrian's Wall is now available on Google Streetview. If they had only been ready a couple of weeks ago, we could have saved ourselves a whole lot of effort!<br />
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See the BBC article here: <br />
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<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-32736667">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-32736667</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-65789781550466707012015-05-14T23:06:00.004+01:002015-06-04T14:28:23.164+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 2. Saturday April 25th. 2015. The going gets tough.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sAzvnif5zm0/VVUUemJAhMI/AAAAAAABzJs/_P-9dlZyLgw/s1600/Day2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="OS map of the route for Day 2" border="0" height="232" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sAzvnif5zm0/VVUUemJAhMI/AAAAAAABzJs/_P-9dlZyLgw/s640/Day2.jpg" title="Map of route for Day 2" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Newburn to Corbridge. 15 miles (24 km), 900 ft (280m) ascent</b></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvB3fWLn3iI/VVUU6yNLneI/AAAAAAABzKY/F-is8iGzNwo/s1600/_DSC0557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WvB3fWLn3iI/VVUU6yNLneI/AAAAAAABzKY/F-is8iGzNwo/s400/_DSC0557.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team shot outside the Keelman's Lodge, just before departure.</td></tr>
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As a consequence of the recently-changed accommodation arrangements for this, our second day's walking, as a group we felt some trepidation about the additional mileage we would have to cover to get us from the Robin Hood Inn, down into Corbridge in the Tyne Valley. I comforted myself with the idea that, since we would be making our way from high on the Wall, down into the valley of the Tyne, then that extra distance would be mainly downhill, and therefore straightforward. Wishful thinking, as things turned out. But that would be later.<br />
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Breakfast was at 8.00am., and perfectly satisfactory it was, too. I am not a fry-up kind of guy, preferring cereal and toast first thing in the morning. Keelman's offer a choice between full English or Continental breakfast, and they also charge less for the Continental. So I was able to have a couple of croissants with my cornflakes and toast, while the bacon, sausage and eggs brigade were equally well-served. After breakfast, we arranged to depart around 9.30am. and I just had time for a few photos (in unfortunately poor light) of our overnight stop. One final team shot outside the Big Lamp Brewery and we were off - 10 miles to the Robin Hood, then another 5 miles to Corbridge. The weather turned out to be not as bad as we were led to expect by some of the more apocalyptic forecasts (predicting snow!). For most of the day we had to contend with spitting rain, cloud, and cool temperatures made more obvious by the wind from the West, but eventually it turned drier, and we were treated to some late sun during the evening in Corbridge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTsWpcg9YdY/VVUU6xd_JQI/AAAAAAABzKk/X0jdpcAhP6k/s1600/_DSC0565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTsWpcg9YdY/VVUU6xd_JQI/AAAAAAABzKk/X0jdpcAhP6k/s400/_DSC0565.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only 12 miles to Corbridge - and that's by the direct route!</td></tr>
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Taken all in all, Day 2 was hard work. We were not yet properly warmed-up. We were none of us in the first flush of youth, and despite our training and preparations, we were all still prey to the standard niggles, aches and pains associated with walking and carrying a rucksack. What I did not realise immediately (and in truth I cannot remember at what point in the day I became aware of the situation) was that both Fiona and Dermot had developed painful blisters on the soles of their feet during Day 1's journey out of Newcastle. And fair play to the pair of them, they both managed to walk every day, to cover the miles, and to continue right to the end at Bowness-on-Solway - on blistered feet. For all my sore legs and groaning shoulders, my feet gave me no trouble - all my woes were self-inflicted, and given how much walking I used to do in the past, I surely should have known better!<br />
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The first couple of kilometres followed the bank of the Tyne, and made for a gentle re-introduction to putting one foot in front of the other. Then came the part of the day's walk that was nominally the hardest, the climb out of the Tyne Valley up onto the start of the high ground at Heddon-on-the-Wall. This turned out to be a relatively gentle ascent, zig-zagging first through a golf course, past Close House (associated with University of Newcastle), then along quiet residential lanes to land us in Heddon at about 400 feet (130m) above the Tyne. Anyone interested in shortcuts should note: as you arrive in Heddon, at the end of the lane called "Heddon Banks", at the T-junction with "The Towne Gate", the Hadrian's Wall Path waymark signs take you right, around a circumnavigation of the hillock upon which stands the Church. When you rejoin "The Towne Gate" some 400m farther along, at the Junction with the B6528 Hexham Road, a glance to the left will reveal the junction with "Heddon Banks" - a mere 100m away!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h7Y21MKJofY/VVUU7aeqW4I/AAAAAAABzKc/qRWtEF09TzY/s1600/_DSC0574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h7Y21MKJofY/VVUU7aeqW4I/AAAAAAABzKc/qRWtEF09TzY/s400/_DSC0574.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The North Ditch, just to the North of the road as we leave Heddon-on-the-Wall</td></tr>
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Leaving Heddon-on-the-Wall along the B6318 finally brought us face-to-face with the first obvious traces of the Roman Wall. When General Wade came this way in the 1740's, his road builders found the foundations of the Roman Wall made ideal foundations for the Military Road being built to deal with the Jacobite Rebellion in Scotland. So, today, the Wall proper is concealed beneath the modern tarmac of the B6318 Military Road, but immediately to its North, over the bounding wall, you can still see the unmistakable signs of the North Ditch. From time to time, looking South also revealed signs of the Vallum, a double ditch and dyke structure running parallel to the Wall, built at the same time as the Wall to form a second line of defence. Historically and structurally interesting, bur sadly this section of the Hadrian's Wall Path is once again uninspiring. Often no more than a narrow strip of field, separated from the busy and noisy road by a wall or fence, and segregated from the rest of the farm land alongside the path by a few strands of barbed wire, the path does well to follow the line of the Roman Wall quite closely, but does not inspire awe.<br />
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Three kilometres or so from Heddon, the site of the Vindobala Fort is only visible as a few lumps and bumps in a field. The map marks the sites of milecastles and turrets (one milecastle every Roman mile, and two turrets spaced equidistantly between each milecastle), but the evidence on the ground along this section of the path is all but invisible. There are, thankfully, regular signs of the North Ditch and the Vallum to help to convince me that we are still on the line of the Wall. A lunch stop was made in the village of Harlow Hill, in the lee of a disused church, to let us find some shelter from the drizzle and the wind.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passing the Whittle Dene reservoirs</td></tr>
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Not much farther on, passing the Reservoirs at Whittle Dene, we
discovered a Public Bird Hide just by the side of the path. It was
occupied, but could provide welcome shelter to walkers in the event of
very inclement weather.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hulYOm6GXdc/VVUU76l1ijI/AAAAAAABzKo/CrykiNeDYC0/s1600/_DSC0593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hulYOm6GXdc/VVUU76l1ijI/AAAAAAABzKo/CrykiNeDYC0/s400/_DSC0593.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Robin Hood Inn - closed, but not looking like it's closed!</td></tr>
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Another mile saw us at the Robin Hood Inn, originally intended as our overnight stop. It was shortly after 2.00pm. Which, when considering the additional mileage we still had to cover, was rather disappointing. We could have been sitting in the bar, out of the weather, enjoying a leisurely beer or two before a shower and a hot meal. Instead, it was to be a further two and a half hours before we could put our feet up. Also rather disappointing, had we been tourists turning up on spec, the signs outside the Robin Hood still proclaimed "Open to the Public All Year Round", and "Bed and Breakfast Available".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CIZtSdVwcj4/VVUU8u0zErI/AAAAAAABzK4/EShmMECg5v8/s1600/_DSC0617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CIZtSdVwcj4/VVUU8u0zErI/AAAAAAABzK4/EShmMECg5v8/s400/_DSC0617.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing over the Tyne in Corbridge</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The rest of the walk into Corbridge is best glossed over. It seemed interminable; it was not, as wishful thinking had suggested, all downhill; but eventually it came to an end, and we had made it to the town sign. Patches of blue sky were appearing as we made our way through the town, and we made quick examinations of the pubs that we went past. Initial appraisal awarded first prize to the Angel Inn - pleasant interior, menu looked good, plus at least four real ales on the bar. A return was prophesied! We crossed the bridge over the Tyne, and just before knocking on the door of Fellcroft, our destination at last (Hallelujah!), I went next door to the Pub called Dyvel's, and was pleased to discover real ale on offer. Then we knocked on the door, and announced our arrival to Mrs. Brown, our landlady.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Asvgf8shMgI/VVUU9G0VvYI/AAAAAAABzLI/pBo5HrVcM40/s1600/_DSC0622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Asvgf8shMgI/VVUU9G0VvYI/AAAAAAABzLI/pBo5HrVcM40/s400/_DSC0622.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Mrs. Brown - Tove - was very friendly, and showed us all up to our rooms. Fiona and I got the twin room with en-suite shower, Carol and Dave got the double with separate shower room, and Dermot was upstairs in a single room with his own bathroom. The rooms were pleasant, bright and airy, and there was a very good selection of biscuits to have with a cup of tea. Tove enquired as to whether we had booked anywhere in Corbridge for our evening meal, and when we revealed that we had not, she suggested that she book us a table at the Black Bull. Saturday evening in Corbridge can be very busy, and we might have a long wait if we did not have a table arranged. And so we took advantage of the Corbridge Network, and within a few minutes we had a table at the Black Bull for 6.00pm. We then all had our showers, had a bit of a relax, and a cup of tea. And it's amazing what a difference a shower and a change of clothes can make to the exhausted <i><b>Waller Hadriani!</b></i><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6Q8bjCZa0c/VVUU96KUDxI/AAAAAAABzLM/QWHaeNXK1XM/s1600/_DSC0637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B6Q8bjCZa0c/VVUU96KUDxI/AAAAAAABzLM/QWHaeNXK1XM/s400/_DSC0637.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Rejuvenated, we strolled into town in pleasant (though still chilly) evening sunshine. We had a good meal at the Black Bull (Greene King beers - OK, but nothing out of the ordinary. I must admit, though, to being pleased to have a pint of Belhaven's 80 Shillings - a bit of a blast from the past). Special mention must be made of the Fish Pie, and of course of the fact that, thanks to the Corbridge Connection, the Black Bull were kind enough to fit us in at very short notice. After eating, we moved on to the Angel, where we were faced with a choice of five real ales. Absolutely top was 'Pennine Pale' from Allendale Brewery - very dry, very new world hoppy - excellent. We made the mistake of allowing Dave to sit in a comfy chair, and no sooner had he sat down than he was snoozing! Finally, we made a visit to Dyvel's next door to our B&B - it seemed churlish not to. It is very much a locals pub, with several real ales, none of which, on the night, were of the calibre of the 'Pennine Pale'. Then back to Fellcroft, and so to bed at (the relatively early hour of) 11.00pm.<br />
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End of Day 2 - very definitely not the best day so far!<br />
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All the photos from the day can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay2?authkey=Gv1sRgCLfx3_qC2PfKnAE#6143781562585773810" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-21608804725598065892015-05-11T00:36:00.000+01:002015-06-07T13:39:51.133+01:00Hadrian's Wall. Day 1. Friday April 24th. 2015. We set off.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Newcastle to Newburn. 7.25 miles (11.6 km), 325 ft (100m) ascent</span></b></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bf-mEdpjxVo/VU_joB3zVAI/AAAAAAABzDA/sHqHR8gbzcE/s1600/_DSC0443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bf-mEdpjxVo/VU_joB3zVAI/AAAAAAABzDA/sHqHR8gbzcE/s400/_DSC0443.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the High-Level Bridge on the approach to Newcastle Central station</td></tr>
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In recognition of our friend Stefan's now-legendary comment whilst on the West Highland Way: Best day so far!<br />
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Dermot had driven up from Bramhall the evening before, and Carol and Dave arrived at our house in plenty of time to get up to Oxenholme for the 08.54 train to Carlisle. Carol had come up with a good idea to get all five of us to the station with our luggage, yet still not to have to leave a car parked up at Oxenholme for the whole week. I drove, and took everyone and their rucksacks up to the station, and dropped them at the station entrance at 8.30am. I then drove back home, left the car in its usual place outside the house, jumped on a tatty mountain bike (specially selected for its unattractive qualities so as to make it an unlikely target for theft) and rode up to Oxenholme. Once there, I locked the bike to one of the bike rails, which meant that the bike would be there when we returned, and would allow me to ride quickly down the hill to home to pick up the car.<br />
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The 'transport system' was a success, and went according to plan, so although cloudy and threatening to rain, the weather was kind and allowed me to stay dry on the ride up the hill. The train to Carlisle was on time, and the weather improved during the journey up from Oxenholme, so spirits were generally high as a consequence. While we waited for our connection to Newcastle, some of us partook of coffee on the "lawn" on Carlisle Station. I always enjoy the train journey across to Newcastle. It seems to pass slowly to begin with, as the train climbs to reach the summit of the Pennines, but once over the top, the rest of the trip seems to pass by in a flash, as the train careers downhill all the way to the Tyne. The scenery is good, and coupled with the sunny skies, it helped to make the journey pass quickly.<br />
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At some point, possibly around Hexham, our conversation turned to what we needed to do when we reached Newcastle. The actual, on-the-ground start of Hadrian's Wall is (as the name would suggest) at Wallsend. To reach Wallsend from Newcastle Central involves an approximately 15 minute trip on the Metro. So we had to leave Central Station, find the Metro Station, then catch the next available train to Wallsend. It seemed to me that this announcement, this disclosure, that we had to travel further on only to have to come back on ourselves, was met with some disappointment, not to say displeasure. So I pointed out that this was, strictly speaking, not absolutely necessary. I had made an assumption, at an early planning stage, that Carol, and probably Dermot, would feel a compulsion to follow the whole of the route, from start to finish. Speaking personally, I could think of little reason to slavishly follow the waymarked route. Newcastle, being a major urban centre of some antiquity, means that almost all traces of the original Wall have been erased from view, and the modern streets and buildings make it practically impossible to follow the actual line of the historic Roman Wall. Consequently, Hadrian's Way (as it is called within the city bounds) merely follows a convenient paved pedestrian trail, along the bank of the Tyne to begin with, out of the city. If my fellow <i><b>Wallers Hadriani</b></i> were not, in fact, rigidly committed to following the route from start to finish, then we could save ourselves approximately four miles of walking on this, our first day. Never has a decision been made so quickly - not by a committee, anyway! It turns out that nobody was particularly wedded to the idea of following the route in its entirety!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8S_ejg0RBUc/VU_joQ1SwyI/AAAAAAABzCM/HUM1IUkGwOw/s1600/_DSC0457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8S_ejg0RBUc/VU_joQ1SwyI/AAAAAAABzCM/HUM1IUkGwOw/s640/_DSC0457.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amazing interior decor of the Centurion Bar</td></tr>
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"Of course we don't have to follow every step of the route!"<br />
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"Not going all the way to Wallsend (and then having to come back again) will mean that we don't have to be in such a hurry to get out to Newburn."<br />
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"And starting from Newcastle Central means that we can have a pint in the Centurion before we set off walking."<br />
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Those of you who are familiar with Newcastle Station will be aware of the <a href="http://www.centurion-newcastle.com/" target="_blank">Centurion Bar</a>. It began life in the 1890's as the station's First Class Lounge. It gradually fell into disuse before closing in the 1960's. After decades of neglect, it was taken over and restored to its former glory in the year 2000. All to our advantage, of course, because we were now enabled to have a relaxing beer before setting out on our Hadrian's Walk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C9i9YC_XyA8/VU_joMyYdEI/AAAAAAABzCI/dsQHJTuMmkc/s1600/_DSC0476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C9i9YC_XyA8/VU_joMyYdEI/AAAAAAABzCI/dsQHJTuMmkc/s400/_DSC0476.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch stop - before we have even taken a step!</td></tr>
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After the beer, the serious business of the walk had to begin. Out of the station, turn right, and down to the river by a series of tunnels and stairways. Arrival on the riverside path signalled the stop for lunch, where a bench situated between the High-Level Bridge and the Queen Elizabeth Bridge allowed for a sit down (it's very tough, this walking business!) But, after that, we had no excuses left, so we had to start walking. It wasn't very demanding, and although there was some interest along the way, the scenery was not very inspiring. In addition, poor prior preparation (which did not prevent poor performance) meant that we totally failed to spot any of the few still-extant Roman remains along the way (such as at Denham Dene). I thus feel a certain necessity to return and track down the things we missed - but that's for another day.<br />
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One aspect of the walk out of the city that I did not like is the fact that the path that constitutes Hadrian's Way is a shared Pedestrian Path and Cycle Way for much of its length. While I cannot, in principle, criticise the concept, I am not a fan of such shared paths. From the point of view of a cyclist, pedestrians are slow-moving, and particularly when approached from behind, are unpredictable and obstructive. From the point of view of a pedestrian, cyclists travel too fast, are rude and arrogant, and do not pay sufficient regard to the safety of pedestrians. I was involved in a contretemps with what I would call a fairly representative example of a "cyclist on a shared path", after about 3 km, as the path rises away from the river bank and parallels the A695 for a way. The cyclist approached from behind, I did not hear him coming, and inadvertently stepped in his way. He responded with frustration, and I suggested that he should have made his presence known to me by calling out - a simple courtesy in my opinion. His rather angry response was to inform me that he had sounded his bell, and that should have alerted me to his presence. I don't like the use of bells - they are rather peremptory, and they add to the impression that cyclists are rude and arrogant - so I suggested in no uncertain terms that it would be more polite, and frankly more personal, to announce himself with a simple "Excuse Me". "Speak to me!" I said, although not in so many words.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorial to the Montagu View Pit Disaster</td></tr>
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The Way continued through very varied landscapes, some of them quite thought-provoking to a landscape historian, though none of it was very inspiring. I would, though, be willing to return, armed with a concise guide to the industrial history of the area. After passing through Denton Dene park, and then an area of residential housing, we travelled for quite a long distance on what could have been a disused railway, or possibly a filled-in canal. Given the obviously historic nature of Hadrian's Wall, it should have come as no surprise that there would be so much of historical interest to be seen along the trail. But throughout the duration of the walk, it was to be a regularly recurring theme (as the consequence of "poor prior preparation") that I would time and again wonder at the significance or purpose of many features of the landscape. Definitely much food for thought, and many reasons to make return trips to find out more.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YidEOlsoDMw/VU_jpt02UeI/AAAAAAABzC4/GEDZM-YmhAM/s1600/_DSC0522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YidEOlsoDMw/VU_jpt02UeI/AAAAAAABzC4/GEDZM-YmhAM/s400/_DSC0522.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old railway? What was its purpose?</td></tr>
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When we arrived at the Newburn Bridge, it was clear that having shortened the day had allowed us to make good time (we were also helped by the fact that there was not much in the way of ascent in today's stage). Just beyond the bridge we were tempted by "The Boat House" pub, on the day fortunately not under the 2 metres of water experienced in the Great Flood of 1771. Fiona made a check of the beer on offer, and we were disappointed to hear that there was only Wells' 'Bombardier' to be had. Given that we were only a short distance away from our accommodation for the evening (and that, a Brewery and Tap House to boot!) we made the decision to continue straight to the Keelman's Lodge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ROOA2kQbvks/VU_jpoPMlYI/AAAAAAABzCc/ZgWl0d26RHw/s1600/_DSC0534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ROOA2kQbvks/VU_jpoPMlYI/AAAAAAABzCc/ZgWl0d26RHw/s400/_DSC0534.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arrival at the Keelman's Lodge</td></tr>
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Although by now cloudier than it had been earlier, the weather was still dry, and warm enough to permit sitting outside (bear in mind that we are not natives of the North East, therefore not as inured to the extremes of the climate as the indigenous populace). So we had a couple of Big Lamp beers, sitting out in the beer garden ('Sunny Daze' and 'Prince Bishops' Ale' come to mind) until a few drops of rain sent us indoors.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room at the Keelman's Lodge</td></tr>
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Then we booked ourselves in, and went to our rooms. After cups of tea and showers, we met back in the bar for dinner. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-9C1-CJw_E/VU_jq66GLXI/AAAAAAABzC8/pNJeFQAOYQg/s1600/_DSC0544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A-9C1-CJw_E/VU_jq66GLXI/AAAAAAABzC8/pNJeFQAOYQg/s400/_DSC0544.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At our dinner table - the first Team Shot</td></tr>
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The food was OK, but honesty compels me to reveal that Fiona was not
impressed with her 'new potatoes'. The beers, however, were excellent,
and much against expectation, the 'Keelman Brown' turned out to be an
interesting and complex beer with a lot of flavour - not the sweet and
bland 'Newkie Broon' substitute it could so easily have been. Definitely
ten out of ten for the beers. Principal gripe would be that the bar
shut at 11.00pm. That was probably actually a good thing, in that
staying up late and drinking is not the best preparation for a fifteen
mile walk the next day.<br />
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And so to bed - still comprehensively the best day so far!<br />
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You can see all the photos from today's stage on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/HadrianSWallDay102?noredirect=1" target="_blank">Picasa Gallery</a>. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-59944472030752378272015-05-10T12:55:00.000+01:002015-06-04T14:27:03.403+01:00A Walk Along Hadrian's Wall - Preparations.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5NKWSPFgtM/VU9Aln6yFEI/AAAAAAABzBo/iIMBpEYUxTc/s1600/Hadrian%2Bmap%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="152" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i5NKWSPFgtM/VU9Aln6yFEI/AAAAAAABzBo/iIMBpEYUxTc/s640/Hadrian%2Bmap%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hadrian's Wall - 80 Roman miles of history, weather, and sore legs and shoulders</td></tr>
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Purists, Completists, and those who are genetically incapable of not following a waymarked walk to the letter: read no further. This is not an account of a journey along the Hadrian's Wall National Trail. This is an account of a walk along the line of the Roman Wall, by five friends, with wholly separate reasons for wanting to do the walk in the first place, and equally separate reasons for finishing it. It was not taken on as a challenge (although it proved challenging), and it was not taken on as a charity fund raiser. Ultimately it was taken on purely to see if we could do it. But it started out like this.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yxF6s_TsTCA/VU9A80AQ31I/AAAAAAABzBw/5OEfcNzpbPI/s1600/_DSC2828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Foxgloves and rocks in the foreground, Sycamore Gap in the background" border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yxF6s_TsTCA/VU9A80AQ31I/AAAAAAABzBw/5OEfcNzpbPI/s400/_DSC2828.jpg" title="Sycamore Gap, made famous by 'Robin Hood - Prince of Thieves'" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sycamore Gap, once just a tree on the Wall, now a Landmark</td></tr>
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Dermot is Fiona's brother, and one day mentioned to Fiona that he liked the idea, once he has retired from work, of walking the Pilgrims' way known as St. James' Way, or the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. Fiona had recently watched the Martin Sheen movie, "The Way", and thought that Dermot might like the film, and that it might give him some idea of what walking the route would entail. Dermot is not really an ourdoor person, and does not do a lot of walking. Watching a film will not give any genuine insight into the reality of following a long-distance footpath. To truly appreciate how physically demanding it is to walk for six hours a day, every day, come rain, come shine, for seven days (or even longer in the case of the Camino), it is necessary to go out and do it.<br />
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So the ghost of an idea was born. And that idea became a vague plan one Friday evening in the pub (surely the worst kind of a plan?), and that became a more definite plan; and the thinking behind that plan was: that to give Dermot a practical demonstration of what it takes to tackle a multi-day excursion, why didn't we walk along Hadrian's Wall? There are many advantages: it is relatively local; there is good transport available to and from both ends of the walk; comfortable accommodation is available all along the route (once upon a time some of us might have contemplated it as a backpacking trip, but as one gets older, the attractions of a comfortable bed and a hot shower become hard to argue against). And, at an average of twelve miles per day, it is achievable in a week. If we planned it for the following Spring, we had plenty of time to prepare, and time to get fit. The weather would (hopefully) be better, and if we arranged to start after the clocks went forward at the beginning of British Summer Time, the lengthening days would make things less pressured in terms of finishing each day's stage in daylight. Great plan! What could possibly go wrong?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9FjE3ti28rM/VU9BHJtdZiI/AAAAAAABzB4/IjK_OwNXW-0/s1600/_DSC2795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="A section of the Wall in the foreground, with crags and a lake beyond" border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9FjE3ti28rM/VU9BHJtdZiI/AAAAAAABzB4/IjK_OwNXW-0/s640/_DSC2795.jpg" title="The Wall with Peel Crags and Crag Lough beyond" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wall in the foreground of Crag Lough, with Hotbank in the distance beyond.</td></tr>
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Thus was formed the Great Hadrian's Wall Walk, Spring 2015. Clearly, I was going to be involved (husband to Fiona, and one of the instigators of the original vague idea); Fiona and Dermot were already on board, and when asked, Carol and Dave expressed an interest (the mad fools!) So some dates were suggested, calendars were consulted, and an initial target was set for April 2015. We could not be absolutely certain of the dates until accommodation had been confirmed, so I set about the preliminary investigation. <a href="http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/hadrians-wall-path" target="_blank">'The National Trail: Hadrian's Wall Path'</a> website was extremely helpful. The 'Plan your Visit' map is the one-stop shop for everything you need to find out about accommodation and facilities along the path, and the distance calculator function built-in to the map is very handy for deciding where to look for your next overnight stay. Unfortunately, it appears that no-one has yet had the foresight to build pubs (serving real ales and offering comfortable overnight accommodation) at exactly twelve mile intervals, and situated within metres of the line of the Wall proper. Consequently, I was forced to look to see what is actually available, and plan accordingly.<br />
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The first decision that I made was to walk the path from East to West. No-one else had a particular preference, so I made the choice based on my wish to photograph our trip, and to take advantage of the lighting offered by the Westering sun towards the end of each day; walking Westward meant that (weather permitting) the light would be better in front of us as the day progressed. The best-laid plans of mice and men! As every outdoor person will tell you, you cannot control the weather, and one of the risks involved in walking Westwards is that you will have the prevailing wind (and associated weather) in your face. And this fact came home to bite us from time to time during our walk. However, 20-20 hindsight is easier to acquire than a functioning crystal ball; the decision was made, and eventually we just had to get on with it.<br />
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Anyway, the salient point about walking East to West is that the accommodation had to be arranged from Newcastle, heading towards Carlisle. So, using the Hadrian's Wall 'Plan your Visit' interactive map, I set about finding what accommodation was available at the appropriate daily distance of twelve miles. It quickly became apparent that there are not many properties situated either at convenient twelve mile intervals, or exactly on the line of the Wall, so it would become necessary to cast the net a little wider. We were also going to need to be prepared to walk away from the Wall at the end of each day to reach our shelter, and to walk back to the Wall the following morning. Having acknowledged that, back to the distance calculator. Beginning from Segedunum, 11.25 miles brought me to Newburn, and The Keelman's Lodge. (A quick check of their website revealed it to be the Brewery and Tap House for Big Lamp Brewery, the longest-established micro-brewery in the North East - what more could you ask for?)<br />
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From Keelman's, 9.65 miles brings you to The Robin Hood Inn at East Wallhouses - it had letting rooms, real ale, but no food on a Sunday evening! Memo to self - check with others about scheduling the walk so that we arrive at The Robin Hood on any day but Sunday. Stage 3 would see us complete 10 miles, bringing us to Humshaugh (pronounced 'Humshoff') with the Crown Inn for food, and a selection of B&Bs. Stage 4, 12.25 miles along the Whin Sill, logically the most interesting section of the walk, heading to The Twice Brewed Inn for the overnight stop. So far, so good. But Stage 5 threw a spanner into the works.<br />
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It looked like being another exciting day along the Whin Sill, over the highest point of the Wall (Whinshield Crags, 345m), and past Walltown Crags. But there was no immediately obvious stopping place. Greenhead was only 7 miles from Twice Brewed, and that meant the day would simply be too short. Gilsland, just over a mile farther on, would still be too soon to stop. And at the 12 mile mark, there is no obvious accommodation. This section of the Wall passes through something of a no-man's land with no substantial settlements, just isolated single buildings or small hamlets. Fortunately, the data layers function of the trail map came to the rescue. Turning on the 'Accommodation - B&Bs/Hotels/Pubs' button reveals all the accommodation that is available, and this feature showed a B&B called Quarryside in the hamlet of Banks. This turned out to be at 13.75 miles from Twice Brewed, a little farther than the ideal distance, but still perfectly achievable. However, no pub, so not immediately obvious where we might get an evening meal. Further research required.<br />
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Day 6 looked obvious - into Carlisle, and we should be able to get rooms in Travelodge. There should also be plenty of choice in town for food and drinks. The map distance calculator showed 16.5 miles, but I could also see a number of places where we could shorten the walk, and because we would be on our way into Carlisle it would even be possible to catch a bus if necessary. Day 7, last day, would be to the coast, distance 14.5 miles. The major logistical challenge for day 7 would be to get back to Carlisle. I needed to check bus timetables, and ask the group if we wanted to stay a second night in Carlisle, or catch the train back to Oxenholme as soon as we arrived back in Carlisle.<br />
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The plan was now taking shape. To solve the Robin Hood Inn Sunday food problem, I consulted my fellow <i><b>Wallers Hadriani</b></i> to consider making our start day any day other than Saturday. Were we to start on Saturday, we would find ourselves at the Robin Hood Inn at the end of day 2, Sunday, and would thus face the problem of finding an evening meal. Options were narrowed down: to set out from Newcastle on Sunday, placing us at the Robin Hood on Monday; or set out on Friday, making day 2 arrival at The Robin Hood on Saturday. Dermot preferred the latter; there were no objections from the rest of us, so we determined to start the walk on Friday April 24th. Enquiry e-mails were sent to accommodation addresses, replies were received and bookings made and confirmed. We plumped for Mingary Barn B&B in Humshaugh, and my enquiry to the Quarryside B&B in Banks regarding the evening meal situation elicited the following reply: "We take you to the local pub for an evening meal and the landlord brings you back." Luxury! Finally, by August 2014, we had a confirmed itinerary. Train times and bus times had been checked, all the accommodations were booked, and the deposits were paid. Now all we had to do was get fit!<br />
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The getting of fitness went as well as could be expected (and there might be a separate post in here about our training walks). However, in February, with only nine or ten weeks to go, we received some news that could have caused the collapse of the whole enterprise. One morning the phone rang (or more accurately in this electronic age, the phone warbled). Making the call was the owner of the Robin Hood Inn, and they were not bearers of good tidings. Following the departure of the pub's most recent tenant, the pub had been closed to allow it to be refurbished. Good for future visitors to the pub no doubt, but not good for us as prospective overnight guests. Our booking for April had been cancelled, so we would need to make speedy new arrangements for our accommodation on day 2. Ironic, really, that we had spent so much time agonising over the day of our departure so as not to arrive at the Robin Hood on a Sunday, and now the place was not even available to us. Time for a rapid rethink. Straight away I contacted the B&B establishments that are in the vicinity of the Robin Hood, and it became immediately obvious that they were either already booked-up, or unsuitable (too small to take all five of us). I was forced, therefore, to widen my field of enquiry, and I started to examine the nearby small town of Corbridge. To get there from the Robin Hood would entail a walk of an additional five miles, down the B6321, which turned South from the Military Road, about a mile West of the pub. I checked the Corbridge village website, read about the accommodation listed there, and sent some e-mail enquiries. I received a positive response from a B&B called Fellcroft, sent the deposit, and we were sorted. It had been an unfortunate hitch in our arrangements, one that could have derailed all our plans, but thankfully it was one that we were fortunate to have overcome. Back on track, we continued our preparations. But how time flies, and how quickly the departure date would be upon us!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-9333717855358128172014-10-19T22:13:00.001+01:002014-10-19T22:21:12.327+01:00Return to Alderley Edge. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qneen3Vj9wc/VCCebiVRICI/AAAAAAABef4/O7NB6h3iaRY/s1600/_DSC1947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qneen3Vj9wc/VCCebiVRICI/AAAAAAABef4/O7NB6h3iaRY/s1600/_DSC1947.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View From Stormy Point</td></tr>
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<h2>
How Alderley Edge fired me up about photography.</h2>
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I first read about Alderley Edge, not realising at the time that it is a real place, in the Alan Garner novel, "The Weirdstone of Brisingamen". This was while I was an inmate at school in Richmond, Yorkshire, sometime in the early 1970s. At about the same time, I read "Earthfasts" by William Mayne, a similarly fantastic story, set in the real location of Richmond, and weaving its narrative from elements of local legend, local landscape, and time travel. Both books were exactly the kind of story to appeal to my imagination, and when I finally realised that Alderley was a real place too, and that the Legend of the Wizard of Alderley Edge was similarly a "real" legend, the spell was complete.</div>
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Eventually my parents moved to Wilmslow, where they lived for several years, and I was then able to discover the actual Alderley Edge for myself. I became so fascinated by the story that I spent many hours along and around the Edge, trying to identify all the crucial locations referred to in "The Weirdstone of Brisingamen". And, in a 'weird' way, the book was instrumental in my becoming a photographer: so obsessed did I become with the real places described in the book, that I decided to produce a photographic guide book to "The Weirdstone ...". I had recently borrowed and begun using an SLR for the first time, and under the impetus of taking the photos for the guide book, made a real effort to learn more about photography.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Entrance To The Devil's Grave on Stormy Point</td></tr>
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Needless to say, the guide book never happened. However, I did discover that I was genuinely interested in photography, and eventually went on to study photographic technology at Manchester Polytechnic.</div>
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The obsession with "The Weirdstone ..." continued, and culminated in a re-creation of the journey, made by the main characters at the end of the book, between Alderley Edge and Shutlingsloe, a hill above Macclesfield Forest in the Peak District. In the story the children, in the company of warrior dwarves whose duty is to protect them, must travel from Fundindelve, the Wizard's home beneath Alderley Edge, to meet Cadellin the Wizard on the summit of Shutlingsloe. They are pursued by Witches and a variety of mythological monsters, so the route that they follow makes its way across country, taking advantage of all the landscape features that will give them cover from their pursuers. Our re-creation, though, was constrained by the modern necessity to follow rights of way, so much of the central part of the route was unable to follow the original.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wizard Of Alderley Edge</td></tr>
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There is a short section in the book, as our heroes attempt to pass unseen by the pub in the village of Gawsworth. To our delight, the <a href="https://www.blogger.com/(http://www.heritagepubs.org.uk/pubs/historic-pub-interior-entry.asp?pubid=10)" target="_blank">Harrington Arms</a> is a real pub, and back then (late 70s - early 80s) was relatively untouched by modernity. Indeed, until 1984, when Robinson's Brewery gave the bar a bit of refurbishment, there was no bar - beer was dispensed by gravity from casks laid down behind the serving counter. The then-landlady, Marjory Bayley, was as likely to sell you potatoes as beer, and although she cultivated the outward appearance of being a curmudgeonly elderly lady, she was always very kind to me and my friends (one cold and wet New Year's Day, despite the fact that we turned-up late in the afternoon, she rescued us from starvation by producing a plate of sandwiches long after the lunchtime period was over).</div>
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So, despite the fact that we were forced by circumstance to make our way to Shutlingsloe via public rights of way, we were still able (indeed we made a point of it) to call into the Harrington Arms for lunch. Afterward, the summit of Shutlingsloe was achieved without much difficulty, but was not the end of our journey. We still had several miles farther to go (mainly downhill, of course) to get back to Macclesfield Railway Station, to catch the train back to Manchester. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Engine Vein Mine</td></tr>
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I moved to Kendal in 1987, and it was to be many years before I would set foot on Alderley Edge again. We had occasional flying visits, when we might manage an hour to walk out to Stormy Point and Castle Rock. When we did, I was struck by just how small and urban the Edge seemed to be. Yet when we lived in Manchester, and Alderley was our regular 'Escape to the Country' it felt positively like wilderness. How perceptions change.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wizard's Well</td></tr>
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I recently had an opportunity to return and have a proper look round again. The photographs here in this post are from that occasion, and the full set of pictures can be seen on my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478?noredirect=1" target="_blank">Picasa gallery</a>. I intend (and it is worth remembering that the road to hell is paved with good intentions) to dig out some of my old photos from the 1980s, and display them here as a comparison with the new pictures. Anyway, the weather on the day of my excursion was excellent, and I managed to get a reasonable walk under my belt. I went to all the old familiar places on the Edge proper, but also had sufficient time to make my way across to the other side of the Macclesfield Road onto the South side of the slope. I was quite surprised to find that, although much was familiar, there was quite a lot that I did not recognise. Not that anything had necessarily changed, just that my memory is becoming increasingly unreliable.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shutlingsloe, the Scene Of Armageddon in the Weirdstone</td></tr>
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One disappointment was to find that many of the old quarry and mine workings have been 'made safe'. Entrances to tunnels have been walled-in or had doors fitted, and quite extensive areas have been fenced - presumably to reduce the risk of someone tumbling over an edge. And yet Castle Rock, which has a genuine long drop, is still unencumbered and allows the bold or the adventurous the opportunity to dangle their legs over the abyss. Political Correctness Gone Mad!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View of Jodrell Bank from the South Side of the Edge</td></tr>
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And so I say to all who may have read Harry Potter: forget that bloated, overwritten, exploitative claptrap! If you want to see how a tale of Wizards, magic and fantasy should be written - with economy, style and grace - read Alan Garner's "The Weirdstone of Brisingamen". And then visit Alderley Edge, to see how such a tale can inhabit the real world, without the need for Diagon Alleys, or Platforms of fractional numericality.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-85136475626913010012014-04-14T22:32:00.002+01:002014-04-14T22:40:28.462+01:00Alexander's Ale Festival, 2014<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Autumn colour at Alexander's, the Pub at Castle Green</td></tr>
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The 2014 Edition of the Alexander's Ale Festival, held in the Function Room of the <a href="http://www.castlegreen.co.uk/" target="_blank">Castle Green Hotel</a>, got off to a flying start on Friday April 11th. with several of the Bowness Bay beers selling out on night One! Thankfully, Saturday afternoon started in gently, giving time and space for quiet contemplation of the beers on offer.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R53IWNE-LAk/U0xFjLYz3-I/AAAAAAABKlY/Xm09SFfxJ54/s1600/Ale+fest+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R53IWNE-LAk/U0xFjLYz3-I/AAAAAAABKlY/Xm09SFfxJ54/s1600/Ale+fest+banner.jpg" height="224" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dj2AFpLyK5I/U0xF5MNsO4I/AAAAAAABKlg/BvO8uICmoYQ/s1600/_DSC1233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Three glasses of beer" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dj2AFpLyK5I/U0xF5MNsO4I/AAAAAAABKlg/BvO8uICmoYQ/s1600/_DSC1233.jpg" height="208" title="" width="320" /></a></div>
(How did John Smiths Smooth get in there? It's a bloody Beer Festival!)<br />
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Top performers, based on a straw-poll of those present, were: Swan Black, from <a href="http://www.bownessbaybrewing.co.uk/" target="_blank">Bowness Bay</a>; Billonde, from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/brewshine" target="_blank">Brewshine</a> (apparently made by a man from Kendal in his garage); American Hop from <a href="http://www.lancasterbrewery.co.uk/" target="_blank">Lancaster Brewery</a>; and (definitely the winner) Angram IPA from <a href="http://cumbriacamra.org.uk/breweries/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=17&Itemid=26" target="_blank">Tigertops Brewery</a> in Wakefield. Tigertops is owned by the same people who bring us Foxfield beers from the <a href="http://www.princeofwalesfoxfield.co.uk/" target="_blank">Prince of Wales</a> pub at Foxfield, and the Angram IPA was a refreshing blast of citrus and hops right from the word go.<br />
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The sun eventually came out, although it was too breezy to sit outside for any length of time. Alexander's, the Pub at the Castle Green Hotel, truly has the finest situation of any pub in Kendal. The Ale Festival, taking place as it does in the Function Room, enjoys much the same view, and when the sun shines, if it's warm enough, you really can't find a better place to enjoy a beer than the hotel lawn.<br />
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Live entertainment was supplied by <a href="http://www.themustardcutters.com/" target="_blank">The Mustard Cutters</a>. By common consent, they really "Cut The Mustard" on the night, performing numbers that were clearly popular with the audience, and getting large numbers on the dance floor as the evening went along.</div>
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You can see an album of photos of the Ale festival, including lots of The Mustard Cutters, by clicking <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/110220495518009284499/AlexanderSAleFestival2014?noredirect=1" target="_blank">this link</a>.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-66723333015475314712013-08-18T18:22:00.001+01:002013-08-18T18:22:37.398+01:00This may not be the real world that we think it is ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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When I was a child, because my Dad was in the army, my family and I spent short periods of time living abroad in a number of different places. This involved a lot of travelling. At that time I had the uncomfortable feeling that we never actually travelled anywhere at all. I couldn't shake the idea that when we got into an aeroplane at, let's say, Luton Airport, and then landed in Germany, we hadn't actually left the ground at all. All that had happened was an unknown group of (possibly alien) manipulators shook the plane around a bit to make it seem like we were flying, and while that was going on, all the scenery and people were moved around. When we got off the plane some hours later, believing ourselves to be in Germany, we were actually still in the same place we had always been - but we didn't recognise it, and all the (maybe alien) people had started to talk in German.</div>
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The feeling stayed with me for years (and if I am honest, has never really completely gone away) and was reinforced when I read a sci-fi story about just such a delusion suffered by the main character. In the story, it transpired that he was not deluded, but was really living in a constructed reality as part of a mysterious experiment by aliens. And more recently the film "The Truman Show" has put another spin on a similar theme.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5t9OCuxFmIg/UhD-_1OmZsI/AAAAAAAAqaY/ED2NqrmmG34/s1600/This-is-not-a-pipe-1948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5t9OCuxFmIg/UhD-_1OmZsI/AAAAAAAAqaY/ED2NqrmmG34/s640/This-is-not-a-pipe-1948.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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In September 2011, Fiona and I made a visit to Liverpool with friends Susan and Leigh, in part to see an exhibition of works by Rene Magritte at the Tate Liverpool. I was most familiar with Magritte as the author of the painting "La Trahison des Images (Ceci n'est pas une pipe)" ("The treachery of images (This is not a pipe)"). I occasionally used it in Photography classes to encourage students to consider what an image is:</div>
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<i>Me (passing round the picture): "What is this?"</i></div>
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<i>Student 1: "It's a pipe."</i></div>
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<i>Me: "Anyone else?"</i></div>
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<i>Student 2: "It's a picture of a pipe."</i></div>
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Back to the Tate exhibition. Much of Magritte's work focusses on the problems of perception, and the pieces in the exhibition that I found particularly fascinating have titles that seem to be significant to their meanings. "Evening Falls" seems an obvious double meaning, referring both to the setting sun outside the window, and to the broken shards of glass littering the floor. "The Human Condition" though, with the easel in front of the window, is more enigmatic. These two pictures, being more 'landscapey' than much of his work, got me thinking about the ideas of place that they aroused in me, and recalled my childhood paranoia about never actually traveling, and which I equate with my uncertainties concerning my control over my life.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4EFu6OKE1nA/UhD-_K0ic2I/AAAAAAAAqaM/1Vuzeeq4eHc/s1600/Memories+of+Childhood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="522" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4EFu6OKE1nA/UhD-_K0ic2I/AAAAAAAAqaM/1Vuzeeq4eHc/s640/Memories+of+Childhood.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uRQXLYjN7Iw/UhD-_MNlTHI/AAAAAAAAqag/hCTS7RgsAa4/s1600/DSC4469Magrittea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uRQXLYjN7Iw/UhD-_MNlTHI/AAAAAAAAqag/hCTS7RgsAa4/s320/DSC4469Magrittea.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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This led to the idea for the picture that I have called "Memories of Childhood" (above). When I made the picture, I had not got a photograph of a suitable window; but I remembered that I had some interior views of a Shepherd's Hut from a <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103639673081845813478/MayoFarm" target="_blank">holiday in Dorset </a>in 2010. I thought that one of the pictures would suffice for a first trial - what would it be like to discover that my fears from all those years ago were justified, and that everything I do is being monitored by some other being, peering in through a gap that occasionally appears in the fabric of our universe? To add to my present confusion, some current thinking about cosmology, and some arguments about perception, lead me to a supposition that the world depicted in the Wachowski Brothers' movie "The Matrix" may not be that far off the mark!<br />
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The second image (to the right) is an early attempt at recreating the "Evening Falls" image, made from the view from Susan and Leigh's room in the hotel where we stayed in Liverpool. (Or should that be "<i>made from an image of the view</i> from Susan and Leigh's room in the hotel where we stayed in Liverpool?)<br />
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Things are not what they seem.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-20852398250929207852013-05-20T17:36:00.002+01:002013-05-20T17:36:59.557+01:00Another Blog, a sort of Beginner's Photography guide<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B2LMKKYFAoI/R4alpRpZL8I/AAAAAAAAB6o/NqZJxR3F8E0/s1600/Caerfai+Bay+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="506" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B2LMKKYFAoI/R4alpRpZL8I/AAAAAAAAB6o/NqZJxR3F8E0/s640/Caerfai+Bay+01.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have started another blog, based on the beginner's photography classes that I used to run. It is called <a href="http://find-your-photography-eye.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">"Get to Know Photography - Some Basic Principles"</a>, and you can find it by clicking on the link.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-40836787157484473152013-05-13T22:15:00.001+01:002013-05-13T22:15:26.871+01:00The Punctum of Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>How the most mundane of snapshots can catch you unawares.</b></div>
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In the opening paragraph of "Camera Lucida",
Roland Barthes mentions having seen a photograph of Napoleon's brother, Jerome,
taken in 1852. He was amazed to realise that he was "looking at eyes that
have looked at the Emperor". Now, this is not meant literally, but it does
give rise to thoughts about the way that we are prepared to accept a photograph
as being “real” in some sense.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Later, in Chapter 32, he describes photography as proof of
the fact that "the thing has been there"; painting can "feign
reality", and spoken or written language can deceive, but it can always be
said of a photograph: "That Has Been". The nature of the
photographic process means that light from the referent (the original real
object or person) creates its image in the photograph. When the image is
eventually seen by a spectator (by you or I) that light from the referent,
delayed by a period of time, finally reaches the spectator. Barthes describes a
photograph as "literally an emanation of the referent". Again, this light
from the referent is not literally the same light that, passing from the
referent to the film emulsion, caused the original exposure. This idea of
‘deferred light’, finally reaching its eventual audience, is more concerned
with the fact that every photograph is inevitably of the past. However, there
are quantum physicists who might argue that, because one photon is practically
indistinguishable from another, there is no way to prove that the light
emanating from the photograph is not the same as that from the original
exposure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the latter part of the book Barthes is discussing a
photograph (referred to as the Wintergarden photograph) of his (recently
deceased) mother as a young girl. We are not shown the photograph, a snapshot,
since Barthes considers that it would appear mundane to anybody but himself,
and thus appear incomprehensible as an example of an important photograph. Yet
in studying the photo, he "rediscovered" his mother in "the
treasury of rays which emanated from my mother as a child, from her hair, her
skin, her dress, her gaze, on that day".<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D2WQ6Wxm6Mw/UZFWj-trp_I/AAAAAAAAeb8/e9NoTyhX72Q/s1600/lewis-payne+1865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D2WQ6Wxm6Mw/UZFWj-trp_I/AAAAAAAAeb8/e9NoTyhX72Q/s640/lewis-payne+1865.jpg" width="513" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lewis Payne, by Alexander Gardner, 1865</td></tr>
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In chapter 39 there is a photograph, taken by Alexander
Gardner in 1865, of Lewis Payne in his prison cell awaiting execution. Barthes
had the realisation that, in addition to the punctum of 'the detail', there can
be, as in this photograph of Lewis Payne, a punctum 'of Time'. In the
photograph (evidence of "That Has Been") he is alive and well;
however, we are also aware that, at the moment that the photograph was exposed,
he is about to die, and that he is dead (in the here and now), and has been for
many years.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have recently experienced my own example of what I might
call a Wintergarden moment, or perhaps of time as punctum. While searching
through old negatives and prints for a particular photograph, I came across a
negative which I neither recognised nor remembered. I scanned it, and enlarged
it, and in the picture saw myself (my assumption therefore being that Fiona, my
wife, is behind the camera), with two old friends: Linda Wilkinson, a
long-time-ago nursing colleague of Fiona's, and Andy Bell, an ex-school friend
of mine. Andy and I were at boarding school together; we played in the
obligatory rock and roll band, and we saw one another infrequently, while he
was at University in Sheffield and I was living in Salford. In the photo (from
about 1980), we are all standing on the steps to the door of the house where
Fiona and I had our first flat; Andy is carrying bags, and from memory, was
returning to Sheffield prior to leaving England to take up a job in Zimbabwe.
He died not long after in a car accident while working in Zimbabwe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The photograph was a shock. I do not remember it being
taken, but there it is ... "That Has Been". And after all these
years, across that great gulf of time and forgetfulness, from that
"treasury of rays", there is Andy Bell. Alive and well, yet about to
die, and yet dead. A revelation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-90856423323910503802013-04-24T13:31:00.001+01:002013-04-25T19:58:26.680+01:00Rob Freeman's House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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If you look at the list of links down at the bottom of this page, you will notice that I have recently added a link to Rob Freeman Building. Rob is a long-time friend of mine from school days, and now lives down in Devon. He runs his own construction company, specialising in conservation and renovation using old-time traditional techniques and materials. As a billboard, demonstrating the kind of work his company does, is his own house (pictured here) which is a combination of the original dormer building and the modern extension, enlarged to accommodate Rob's family.</div>
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The first set of photos are from New Year's Eve a few years ago, showing paper lanterns placed around the ornamental pond, situated on the patio in the back garden. The attraction of the scene, to me, was the presence of the reflections in the mirror-calm of the water. The camera that I was using for these shots was a long-in-the-tooth Nikon D100, with non-functioning light meter, and which worked only in manual mode. (I mention this by way of excusing the variation in exposure of the pictures, even though this does not necessarily work to their detriment).<br />
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It is true (as noted by some of my photographic friends) that I have something of a preoccupation with reflections. I would say, in my defence, that I am not alone in this. Henri Cartier-Bresson's "Gare St. Lazare", and many of Ansel Adams' landscapes demonstrate some classic examples of reflections within the historical canon of photography. In my case, the fascination lies within the 'image within an image' aspects of the pictures, and the tricks our minds play on us when we 'look' (with our eyes) at a reflection, then 'look again' when we examine the photograph some time later. Suffice to say, given the limitations of the camera record of a scene (particularly one recorded in low light) what I remember of the scene as seen by the naked eye bears little resemblance to the photographic images. This is generally due to the lack of recorded detail in the deep shadow areas, which because of the nature of reflections in water, tends to be within the reflection areas of the picture.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of so-called 'diffraction flare', a photographic phenomenon unique to digital cameras</td></tr>
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However, that is not the major interest that I have in these images. I had spotted before, but not paid significant attention to, the phenomenon illustrated in the images above. I have encountered (and combatted) flare for most of my photographic life (and will be posting an article on flare in the near future), so I am familiar with it, and its manifestations in the viewfinder. The coloured blobs, clearly seen in all of the images above, and which I had previously assumed to be flare, <i><u>were not visible in the viewfinder.</u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> This indicates that the artefacts (the coloured blobs) cannot be a lens-related occurrence.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">The more I thought about it, particularly the fact that all of the blobs feature the three primary colours red, green and blue, the more I came around to considering the reseau, or Bayer filter, that is incorporated into the digital sensor at the heart of a digital camera. (The link below is one of the many places on the Internet that a description of the structure of a digital sensor can be found).</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge-coupled_device">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charge-coupled_device</a></span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">More research has led me to the revelation that the phenomenon is indeed linked to the image sensor (and that it is unique to digital photographs) and is caused by diffraction of high intensity light rays by the pixel structure of the sensor array. This article on Wikipedia mentions it (near the bottom of the page) and even comments on the fact that it is not visible in the viewfinder.</span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lens_flare">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lens_flare</a></span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Who says you can't teach old dogs new tricks?</span></i><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ioaS6n9qf0Q/UXe2PqwpzRI/AAAAAAAAdak/o-5JN06PHKE/s1600/_DSC1470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ioaS6n9qf0Q/UXe2PqwpzRI/AAAAAAAAdak/o-5JN06PHKE/s200/_DSC1470.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mo2qmozJq0A/UXe2Po6dLwI/AAAAAAAAdao/jPAOL0IQtCA/s1600/_DSC1471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mo2qmozJq0A/UXe2Po6dLwI/AAAAAAAAdao/jPAOL0IQtCA/s400/_DSC1471.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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I will conclude with some pictures of the house, taken in daylight last November. Good weather always makes a photograph look more attractive, and being on holiday (which I invariably am when visiting Rob) makes the process of photographing very pleasurable. However, while the physical comfort of having the warmth of the sun on your back makes photography enjoyable, clear blue skies can mean death to a photograph. Even though a photographer may not have the choice (ultimately you photograph under the circumstances that you find on the day) a few clouds can make all the difference to the appearance of a picture. Most of the time, this just means that I will have to go back and try again on another day.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zGSFwQX0458/UXe2Qb7CsrI/AAAAAAAAda0/3I0no0F2BX8/s1600/_DSC1478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zGSFwQX0458/UXe2Qb7CsrI/AAAAAAAAda0/3I0no0F2BX8/s640/_DSC1478.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-39836182599847329012013-04-18T15:57:00.004+01:002013-04-18T15:57:41.977+01:00Posting Articles about Photographic TechniqueAt the top of the Sidebar to the right of these posts, you will see an item called 'Pages'. I am having a go at putting up individual articles on particular topics, and one method is to create a new page. Each of the pages will contain a separate article, and many of them will be illustrated.<br />
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An alternative will be to set up a second blog, with the intention being that each separate topic will be put up as a new post. If I decide to try the second blog approach, I assume that there will be somewhere on this page that I will be able to set up a link to enable interested parties to find their way to the new articles. Updates to follow as necessary.<br />
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The first article is now available, with the somewhat cumbersome title: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, FreeSerif, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><i>"Size Constancy Scaling" as a Psychological Explanation for Disappointments with Wide-Angle Lens Images, </i>by clicking the title in the Sidebar. Those of you who have experience of my earlier efforts to use the internet for Photographic discussions will be familiar with the content, but it should still be of interest to people not aware of the ideas. Opinions, via the comments box, as to whether or not the separate page method works, will be considerately received.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-26079174751308767892013-04-15T22:56:00.001+01:002013-04-18T15:30:07.355+01:00'The Snug', Carnforth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The observant among you ...</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UjyaxRhtkKg/UWxyek071KI/AAAAAAAAc84/nY6i2rCGt8g/s1600/_DSC5177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UjyaxRhtkKg/UWxyek071KI/AAAAAAAAc84/nY6i2rCGt8g/s640/_DSC5177.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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may have already noticed the presence of a link to The Snug Micropub at the top of the page, and the fact that, if you click on the picture of Gregg over on the right hand side, it takes you to my Picasa album of pictures of the Snug.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yACBqcURpEo/UWxyen94kXI/AAAAAAAAc9A/HGlz6AEGb8o/s1600/_DSC5185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yACBqcURpEo/UWxyen94kXI/AAAAAAAAc9A/HGlz6AEGb8o/s640/_DSC5185.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You never know what you will find on the bar at the Snug</td></tr>
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Not much to do with photography, you might say. But I find myself much less interested in toting camera and tripod all the way up a hill nowadays, and much more enthusiastic about a walk that involves a stop in a pub. So I take quite a few pictures of the inside of pubs, and pictures of the beers available on hand pump. (To the degree that I now refer to my 'photographic memory' when it comes to recalling what pub we visited on a particular day, or what beer we may have sampled). And when it comes to drinking at a pub like the Snug, with an ever-changing selection of beers from all over, but with a preponderance of local breweries represented, it is always a pleasant surprise to discover what's on. Never a dull moment.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-27197686884486288732013-04-15T00:54:00.003+01:002013-05-21T11:46:56.221+01:00Next Question - Why Images?<br />
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One way to define a photograph is to define its necessary
technical characteristics. There will, inevitably, be disagreements between
film and digital users about the status of certain physical manifestations of a
supposedly photographic image (computer screen image, ink-jet print, and the
like), but such disagreements may be useful in arriving at an idea of
photographic actuality.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceci n'est pas un photo</td></tr>
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So, what about technical characteristics? First, light is a
requirement, not an option. A painting, or a<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">sculpture, can be made in an underground
bunker in the pitch dark (the technical or aesthetic quality of such creations
may, however, be questionable). To take a photograph in the same circumstances
is an impossibility. Second, a light-sensitive medium is required to capture or
record the image. Third, certain physical and optical laws govern the final
appearance of the image; in this category I am thinking of things such as
perspective, sharpness, and the concept that light travels in straight lines.
Fourth, a photograph must be of a real object. A painter can ignore
inconvenient objects or alignments in making a painting, or even introduce
fantasy elements. A photographer, however, must always work strictly with what
is physically present before the camera. Fifth, a photograph is an 'automatic'
recording medium; it requires no pen, brush or stylus, no physical intervention
on the part of the photographer other than the operation of a switch - the
actual recording is a somewhat mysterious alchemy known as "making the
exposure" which takes place somewhere in the workings of the mechanical /
electrical / electronic device called the camera. Sixth, the in-camera image
must be processed to bring it out of the camera and into the light of day. A
painting, on the other hand, becomes visible from the instant that the first
brush stroke is made; even though the image may not be complete, it is seen
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So far, all of the above apply equally well to both digital
and analogue images. Where things become tricky for me, in this
technological era, is in the realm of the digitally encoded image file. I
believe that reproduction of photographic images in newspapers has been with us
for long enough for us to recognise that a picture in a newspaper has a
photographic origin; but few of us would argue that the ink-on-paper image that
leaves inky marks on our hands is an original photograph. Nor do we confuse
postcards or calendar images with original photographs. Therefore, while I
would draw a distinction between an image produced by an inkjet printer (not a
photograph) and a chromogenic photographic print (a photograph), I have no
problem with understanding the photographic origins of either print.</div>
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I equally
have no problem with conceding that an image made with a digital sensor is a
photographic image; I simply have difficulty visualising what that digital
sensor image actually is. A negative or transparency is an extant physical
entity; I can hold it in my hand, I can hold it up to the light and see the
image. But a digital image file is an intangible. Without the right kind of
technology to decode it, and place the image on a screen or cause the image to
be printed onto a sheet of paper, it cannot be seen, it cannot be touched. It
exists (that must be true, or else how can one explain the appearance of the
image on a computer screen when one gains access to the file?) and yet it has
no perceptible physical form. I know of its existence in an intellectual sense,
yet I cannot perceive it without the assistance of the appropriate technology.</div>
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So, I do not think, in a strictly technically defined sense, that digital
sensor-derived images are not photography. My own interest in photography,
though, has become less about the technology and much more about the psychology
of the image. And because (so far, at least) digital imaging seems to be so
exclusively concerned with the technology, it forms more of a barrier to me,
than a way forward.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mXZt8gPGAvQ/UWrz5XPGbRI/AAAAAAAAc4s/WnDGTpUTwGk/s1600/Tyrella+Beach+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mXZt8gPGAvQ/UWrz5XPGbRI/AAAAAAAAc4s/WnDGTpUTwGk/s400/Tyrella+Beach+6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyrella Beach, County Down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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(One of the possible sources of conventional/digital
disagreement might arise from the ease with which digital images can be
manipulated. Even if the original sources of a composite image are all strictly
photographic, can the final composite image still be defined as a photograph?
I’m sure I will return to this question, which gives rise to more complex
questions regarding the nature of reality and truth, as well as the more
obvious ones about the trustworthiness of photography).<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, given the technical, practical and physical differences
between photographs and paintings, why is photography the chosen form of
creative expression for photographers? What makes a photographer take up
photography instead of painting or sculpture? It is common, and I have used the
explanation myself on many occasions, to explain the fact that photography is
my preferred form of expression because of an intrinsic inability to draw or
paint. However, such an explanation still does not address the fundamental
question of why I feel compelled to express myself through imagery - if I
feel that I cannot draw or paint, why have I not gone down the road of writing,
or music? What intrinsic trait do I possess that drove me into a visual medium
of expression?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Our prehistoric ancestors, despite lacking the technology
available to us today, still had a profound connection to the world at large
through imagery. Academics today speculate about the possible ritual importance
of cave paintings of animals, some of them extremely ‘realistic’. The true
significance of cave paintings at places like Tarascon in France remains
unclear. But scientists conclude that this art, some of it brilliant even by
today's standards, reflects the development of "symbolic life," an
important turning point in hominid evolution that has sometimes been dubbed
"the mind's big bang." Cave paintings may show that early humans were
developing a sense of self, abstract concepts, and, perhaps, the beginnings of
a mythology. The making, and understanding, of imagery, even if confined to a
small section of the population, is a very sophisticated psychological development,
which gives insight into the way in which hominid brain function was advancing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are the first couple of paragraphs from <b><i>‘Eye and Brain;
the psychology of seeing’ by R. L. Gregory; 1979, Third Edition. Weidenfeld and
Nicolson.</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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"We are so familiar with seeing, that it takes a leap
of imagination to realise that there are problems to be solved. But consider
it. We are given tiny, distorted, upside-down images in the eyes, and we see
separate, solid objects in surrounding space. From the patterns of stimulation
on the retinas we perceive the world of objects, and this is nothing short of a
miracle.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The eye is often described as like a camera, but it is the
quite uncamera-like features of perception that are most interesting. How is
information from the eyes coded into neural terms, into the language of the
brain, and reconstituted into experience of surrounding objects? The task of
eye and brain is quite different from either a photographic or a television
camera converting objects merely into images. There is a temptation, which must
be avoided, to say that the eyes produce pictures in the brain. A picture in
the brain suggests the need of some kind of internal eye to see it—but this
would need a further eye to see its picture … and so on in an endless regress
of eyes and pictures. This is absurd. What the eyes do is to feed the brain
with information coded into neural activity—chains of electrical
impulses—which, by their code and the patterns of brain activity, represent
objects. We may take an analogy from written language: the letters and words on
this page have certain meanings, to those who know the language. They affect
the reader's brain appropriately, but they are not pictures. When we look at
something, the pattern of neural activity represents the object, and to the
brain is the object. No internal picture is involved."<o:p></o:p></div>
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Considering the implications of the way in which the brain
translates the information given it by our eyes, then the ability to appreciate
images is almost even more incredible. A flat, flexible rectangle containing
some shapes and colours – that’s all a picture is. And yet we look at it, and
we see the object, person or place that the picture is of. It definitely is not
the actual person or thing, but we are prepared to accept it, as if it is in
some way. I will return to Professor Gregory in a future post, to discuss the
disappointment of tiny, receding mountains in landscape photographs. (See the article: <a href="http://bennonlmp.blogspot.co.uk/p/better-understanding-of-photographic.html">"Size Constancy Scaling"</a>).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">But for now, I will content myself with
saying that we sophisticated 21st. Century <i>homo technilogicus</i> seem to be no
longer aware of just how amazing our ability to read images really is. The
super-saturation of our day-to-day world, with pictures everywhere we look,
leads to us not really paying much attention to most of them. Even if we wanted
to, how could we find the time to review every single photograph – let alone
all the video clips, paintings and drawings that are produced every day? So we
have to make choices. And even those few images that we choose to regard are
given only the most cursory of glances for the most part. A picture has to be
immensely arresting to get our attention. To use the terminology established by
Roland Barthes, the photo must possess <i>studium</i> to attract our gaze, and a
<i>punctum</i> to make us look deeper. But even in those instances, we soon find
ourselves drifting on, looking for the next image. So what are we looking for?
And will we know it when we find it?</span><!--EndFragment-->
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-66919680760457873212013-04-15T00:40:00.002+01:002013-04-15T00:40:51.108+01:00Starting the Debate - What Is A Photograph?<!--StartFragment--><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">What is a photograph?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0jaaqD8cRZ4/UWg7nC_1JCI/AAAAAAAAc4E/yJncy9rvZZ4/s1600/Sleights+Church+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0jaaqD8cRZ4/UWg7nC_1JCI/AAAAAAAAc4E/yJncy9rvZZ4/s400/Sleights+Church+01.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleights Church, near Whitby, North Yorkshire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span>Some time ago, and in a couple of different arenas, I made
an attempt "To define a Photograph". It is a concept that is still
active in my mind, so I'll give it another go here.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">After thirty years as a photographer, what I
nowadays find most interest in is not particularly the photograph as artefact
(although I anticipate that such considerations will occupy at least some of my
time), but rather the photograph as cultural construct. Thinking about the
photograph raises many questions in my mind. What differentiates the photograph
from any other kind of image? Why is it not the same as a painting, a drawing,
a sculpture, a pictograph? What conditions have to be met for an image to
qualify as a photograph, and possibly more contentiously, what disqualifies an
image from being called a photograph? Are such distinctions important?</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">
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If you have found your way by some accident to this page,
and your curiosity has been piqued, you might use the comments box to make
statements, ask questions, or give references to any and all things related to
the overall question. I may speculate, quote passages from books, magazines,
web sites, or even TV programmes, that can further the project, and if I
receive any contributions via the comments box, I may respond to those views or
statements.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XgTBljY2JcA/UWhBic4pdsI/AAAAAAAAc4U/GfGYdwjP8-k/s1600/00100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XgTBljY2JcA/UWhBic4pdsI/AAAAAAAAc4U/GfGYdwjP8-k/s400/00100.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitby Harbour at night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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An obvious aspect of this project will be to think about how
we read photographs. Some of the photographs that I take for myself, and some
of the work of other photographers that I discover in my meanderings through
photography, might be used to support (or undermine) some of the ideas that I
explore in this examination of "What is a Photograph?" As a start to
this new site, I will start with an initial response to the original
question from a friend, Graham Winder. Graham suggested the
following link, and the quote from Andreas Feininger:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.nonphotography.com/Whatis/about.html"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">http://www.nonphotography.com/Whatis/about.html</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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"<b><i>Photography as a hobby</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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If photography is your hobby you are an amateur. An amateur
is defined as a person who does something because he loves to do it - he does
it for the pleasure of it. If you are to be successful as an amateur you must
have pride in your work and derive a feeling of self-respect and satisfaction
through doing it. The only way to reach this desirable state is to do original
work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As an amateur, you have an advantage over other
photographers - you can do as you wish. You have no boss. No one to tell you
what is wanted; nor to suggest how it might be done. This should make amateurs
the happiest of photographers.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Unfortunately, this is rarely true. Very few amateurs
realise their unique position and take advantage of it. Most of them are
indecisive, lacking in both purpose and goal. To compensate for lack of
direction they look desperately for guidance. This inevitably leads them into
imitation of the work of others in the thought that what worked well for
someone else will work as well or better for them. Once a photographer competes
on this level, he will quite likely end by being part of that society for
mutual admiration, the photo-club. If this happens, he gives up the chance of
becoming a photographer with something of value to say.<o:p></o:p></div>
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To avoid the trap of imitation, don’t concentrate your
attention on what some other photographer does, whether he is your friend or a
stranger whose work you respect. People are different, and another’s approach
or interest may be totally wrong for you. You are you - so be yourself, and be
proud of it. Listen to criticism, but analyse it carefully and accept only that
advice which you are convinced applies to you - your kind of work, your
temperament and personality, your goals."<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><i><b>Andreas Feininger - The Complete
Photographer</b></i>"</span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
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So, to finish, a couple of technical definitions:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>(From "The Focal Encyclopedia of Photography";
Desk Edition 1960, Edited by Frederick Purves).</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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"PHOTOGRAPHY. Literally, 'writing with light"
(from the Greek, phos, photos - light + suffix graphos - writing). The
term is generally accepted as any method of producing a visible image by the
action of light - for example, on light-sensitive silver salts. The use of the
term was suggested by Sir John Herschel to William Henry Fox Talbot in a letter
dated 28th. February, 1839. It was also used in the Vossische Zeitung of Berlin
on 25th. February, 1839, in an article over initials which point to the
astronomer Johann von Maedler, who was a correspondent of Herschel's."<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>(From Wikipedia: (</i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photography"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><i>http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photography</i></span></a><i>)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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"PHOTOGRAPHY. (from Greek φωτο and γραφία) is
the process, activity and art of creating still or moving pictures by
recording radiation on a sensitive medium, such as a film or an
electronic sensor. Light patterns reflected or emitted from objects
activate a sensitive chemical or electronic sensor during a timed
exposure, usually through a photographic lens in a device known as a
camera that also stores the resulting information chemically or
electronically. Photography has many uses for business, science, art and pleasure.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The word "photography" comes from the Greek φώς (phos)
"light" + γραφίς (graphis) "stylus",
"paintbrush" or γραφή (graphê) "representation by
means of lines" or "drawing", together meaning "drawing
with light." Traditionally, the products of photography have been called
negatives and photographs, commonly shortened to photos."</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Of course, the digital 'revolution' means
that some of the stages in the traditional, or 'analogue', process have either
changed or disappeared, and that may give rise to disagreements in terms of
definitions.</div>
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</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-12446495449790569952013-04-15T00:21:00.003+01:002013-05-19T09:47:47.583+01:00The Passage of Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Xr01DbG4gU/UWLKZktvMSI/AAAAAAAAczI/egPHuWbJsDQ/s1600/Year-round+sunsets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Xr01DbG4gU/UWLKZktvMSI/AAAAAAAAczI/egPHuWbJsDQ/s640/Year-round+sunsets.jpg" width="185" /></a></div>
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The passage of time is an ever-present paradox to the photographer. Whether it be the representation of time passing using photographic means (the two examples here are attempts to address that), or the fact that every photograph only ever shows the past - photographers, consciously or not, are always constrained by time.</div>
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The composite photograph left illustrates one of the ways in
which still photography can demonstrate the passage of time. This sequence
shows how the apparent position of the setting sun changes throughout the year
when viewed from a single, fixed viewpoint. The movement of the sun is very
hard to distinguish on a day-to-day basis, but when viewed all together, its
changes in position become readily visible. This sequence shows the view
towards the Southern Lakeland Fells from Kendal Golf Course.<o:p></o:p></div>
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("Golf - a good walk spoiled"; Mark Twain).</div>
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In the opening paragraph of "Camera Lucida",
Roland Barthes remarks on having seen a photograph of Napoleon's brother,
Jerome, taken in 1852. Barthes was amazed to realise that he was "looking
at eyes that have looked at the Emperor". He later states his opinion
that a photograph is evidence that "the thing has been there";
painting can "feign reality"; spoken or written language can deceive;
but it can always be said of a photograph: "That Has Been". <o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> The nature of a photograph is such that
it causes light from the referent (the original real object or person) to
create its image in the photograph. When the image is eventually seen by an
observer, by you or I, then that light from the referent, delayed by a period
of time (in some instances years, or even decades), finally reaches the
spectator. Barthes describes a photograph as "literally an emanation of
the referent".</span><!--EndFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SB3AB2D2OLQ/UWLPPj7RRxI/AAAAAAAAczY/rE2jC0iQvgo/s1600/Autumn+Tree+-+time+of+day+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="324" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SB3AB2D2OLQ/UWLPPj7RRxI/AAAAAAAAczY/rE2jC0iQvgo/s640/Autumn+Tree+-+time+of+day+small.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<!--StartFragment--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The triptych image above
shows another variation on the theme. In this instance, the changes in shadow
and highlight over the course of a day alter the appearance and visual impact
of the tree. Choosing the right lighting (or being fortunate enough to stumble
upon it) can make a big difference to the success or failure of an image.</span><!--EndFragment-->
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03849959658611843540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4046852490818518675.post-5919304569833548182013-04-06T02:02:00.001+01:002013-06-06T11:32:39.890+01:00Opening Gambit - Decisive Moment v. Saccadian Rhythm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Ideas and examples of photography. What I like and why I like it, as well as some guidance on how to do it better. Don't feel obliged, but by all means join in.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3pDOeSrIUg/UWGzkaHUkQI/AAAAAAAAcwo/Mpd95q1O4AE/s1600/Whitby+Harbour+Composite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3pDOeSrIUg/UWGzkaHUkQI/AAAAAAAAcwo/Mpd95q1O4AE/s640/Whitby+Harbour+Composite.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Segoe UI', 'Lucida Grande', Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<strong><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Whitby Harbour Composite</span></span></em></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The conventional concept of a photograph, as espoused for example by Henri </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cartier-Bresson, is of the “decisive moment”, captured and held forever in that single image. This carries with it the implication that a photograph is a record of a single instant of time. This idea holds good even when the photograph is a long time exposure, made to create the impression of movement, for example the smooth, mist-like appearance of waves breaking over seaside rocks. In this case, where an exposure time of seconds or even minutes has been used, the observer of the photograph still accepts the photograph on the basis of the “single instant of time” perception.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">John Blakemore, a Midlands-based photographer with a unique and very personal photographic philosophy, developed a technique which rather stands this conventional idea on its head. It involves the production of a single image by a process of building up a series of incremental exposures, each of them insufficient in themselves to give rise to “correct” or adequate exposure on the film, but calculated so that their sum total is equivalent to the net level of exposure necessary to produce a correctly exposed negative. Consequently, the resultant photograph is no longer a single image of a single instant of time, but a composite of a multiplicity of images superimposed upon one another, thus representing a scene as perceived over a period of time. (There are parallels here with the astro photography technique of 'stacking' images).</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">During the early 1980s, David Hockney developed a new technique for creating photographic collages, which he termed 'joiners'. These works involve assembling large numbers of photos of small portions of the same subject taken from different angles in a single session. Hockney's aim was to inject a visible element of time into photographic images, which normally represent only 'frozen moments'.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In "Eye, Brain, and Vision" (David H. Hubel 1988), Hubel has this to say about the way in which we physically look at a scene:</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"First, you might expect that in exploring our visual surroundings, we let our eyes freely rove around in smooth, continuous movement. What our two eyes in fact do is fixate on an object: we first adjust the positions of our eyes so that the images of the object fall on the two foveas; then we hold that position for a brief period, say, half a second; then our eyes suddenly jump to a new position by fixating on a new target whose presence somewhere out in the visual field has asserted itself, either by moving slightly, by contrasting with the background, or by presenting an interesting shape. During the jump, or saccade, which is French for "jolt", or "jerk" (the verb), the eyes move so rapidly that our visual system does not even respond to the resulting movement of the scene across the retina; we are altogether unaware of the violent change. (Vision may also in some sense be turned off during saccades by a complex circuit linking eye-movement centres with the visual path.) Exploring a visual scene, in reading or just looking around, is thus a process of having our eyes jump in rapid succession from one place to another".</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The image above, </span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Whitby Harbour Composite</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, is based on the Hockney idea, in that it shows the harbour over a finite period of time (obviously, a certain period of time had to elapse to photograph all of the individual frames). The presentation of the resultant image(s) is also intended to imitate the physical mechanism of the eye roving around the scene. The above arrangement is obviously only one way in which such a selection of multiple images may be presented - in the future there are several other combination images I may put here.</span></span></div>
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