Day 2: Hadrian’s Wall and Back to Newcastle
15 April 2007
The ride from Newcastle to Hexham follows the Tyne westwards. As you pass alongside the silvery-blue stream occasionally interrupted by little rapids of whitewater, you can’t help but think that you are now doing it, you’re traveling, living the dream.
The signs of spring are strewn everywhere in that countryside. Two lambs chase after their mother along a hill populated with hundreds of lambs chasing their mothers. It’s hard to tell whose family and who isn’t. A forty minute ride ended us in Hexham where most the station was locked up and one station worker directed us to the location where the Hadrian’s Wall bus would be stopping at hour intervals throughout the day.
The sun was just heating things up when the bus arrived alongside the station and we hopped on and asked the driver about the unlimited bus pass.
“No. You had to buy that when you got your rail ticket ‘to Hexham.”
You have got to be kidding me. Lorna, when I see you, I will fight you.
We gave in and just bought the bus tickets at $8 per person.
The bus takes you from Hexham along a sizeable portion of the wall all the way to Carlisle which was at one point the capital of England. A tour guide rides in the bus pointing out certain highlights of the wall, history of the Roman occupation from the time of Emperor Hadrian up until the Jacobite rebellions.
We got off the bus at Homesteads with the advised plan to check out the ruins of a Roman fort along the wall, walk along the wall for several hours and end at the Twice Brewed Inn three miles away.
Hadrian’s Wall stretches across the northern part of England about 75 miles and reaches from east to west coasts providing a barrier between the Roman civilization and the barbaric Celts and Picts to the north. Of course, the Scots are more civilized these days, but there was a time when it wasn’t safe to be anywhere distant from a tower at night for fear of roaming groups of marauders and brigands. The wall used to stand about 5 meters, probably close to 20 feet high and at some of the points we saw was at least 6 feet thick. The wall is contains towers every so often, but most of those no longer exist or are laid in ruinous heaps alongside the hiker’s path.
The terrain isn’t easy going and I wished I had been better equipped. Proper shoes, shorts in the heat, a camel back, and a packed lunch would have been the way to go, but it was still enjoyable and made me wish that I had camping gear, a mountain bike, and another week to spare to travel alongside the length of the wall.
We ended up at the Twice Brewed Inn and feasted on some of the best bangers and mash I’ve had in the country so far.
Exhausted from the hike, I stretched out on a bench near the bus stop and slept for about 40 minutes waiting for the bus.
Getting on the bus wasn’t a hassle, but I did myself a disservice by breaking the cardinal rule of public transportation I have imposed on myself: Always ask the driver where this bus is going. So far, this rule has never failed me and has kept me safe from disastrous consequences. I can now say with the Psalmist that the law is “sweeter than honey, even honey from the comb.” The bus was the service to Carlisle and we arrived there about an hour and a half later. It was nice because I got to see Carlisle and a lot of the English countryside, but the ride back was even longer and took me through the exact same countryside. We left at 2:30 from Twice Brewed and didn’t get back to Hexham until a quarter to six. Trains to Newcastle were five minutes delayed, but at this point I was just happy to be off the bus.
I don’t recall much of the ride back to Newcastle. An obnoxious youth chattered loudly on his cell phone most of the way, making me wish there was no law against destroying personal property.
Upon arriving in Newcastle, I decided that I might as well try to explain my situation to the ticket vendor in the hopes of a refund. Lorna wasn’t on duty, but another woman, similarly overweight, glasses, and unhelpful attitude had taken her place.
“Can I help you?”
Do you really want to help me or are you just working. “Hi. Yes. I was here earlier and Lorna sold me rail tickets ‘to Hexham.’ Now I asked her about getting the unlimited bus pass when I bought my tickets to Hexham and she said I was supposed to get those at the Hexham station. Well, there wasn’t anyone working there and I was charged several pounds more than was advertised on this pamphlet.”
I handed her the leaflet and she curiously looked at it and did whatever it is they do on those computers of theirs. Next I handed her my bus pass to show her what I meant.
“Well no, this is a different bus. The pamphlet here says the Plus Bus to the surrounding towns of Hexham.”
“No, I know. They are both Plus Bus operated lines, but I am talking about what it says below about when you purchase your rail ticket Hexham. See I bought a ticket to Hexham from Lorna and asked her about this bus pass and she said I had to buy that in Hexham. When I got to Hexham this (pointing at the bus receipt) is what they charged me.”
“I know Lorna and she knows how to do her job. She would have sold you the right ticket.”
I am starting to get frustrated. “Ma’m, I’m not questioning Lorna’s ability to do her job, I am just saying that I think she made a mistake here. See, I bought a rail ticket here and your literature says that when I buy my rail ticket, I can get this bus pass added on for $4. I asked about this and Lorna said to buy it in Hexham even though this says ‘when you buy your rail ticket to Hexham.’ I am just wondering if you can reimburse me the money which I would have saved had I bought the tickets here like your leaflet tells me.”
“Lorna would have sold you what she could have sold you. I know Lorna. She would have done what she could.”
Okay, forget Lorna. I’m not talking about Lorna. I’m talking about you reimbursing me the money your service lost me because of your incompetent employee, who, despite what you say, did not follow the directions of this leaflet and made a mistake raising the price of my journey to Hadrian’s Wall. Speaking slowly, I respond, “Yes, I know. But what I am saying is that on this literature it says that when I buy my ticket to Hexham, you can sell me a bus ticket for Hadrian’s Wall which would have saved me…”
“Lorna would have done what she could for you, I know her….”
“Well, this is obviously getting nowhere. Perhaps you should fix your pamphlets and just work on your poor customer care policies” as I angrily walk away from the ticket window realizing that the queue behind me had been lengthening for the past five minutes.
We spent the next hour emphasizing that little two letter preposition “to.” When you buy your tickets “to Hexham” you get the bus pass. Not in hexham, not at Hexham, not on your way, but when you buy rail tickets to Hexham. I don’t think college has made me all that intelligent. But what it has taught me is that when working with some people, it is easy to tell who is actually a competent human being. I could have done my job better than Lorna, or her unbelievably frustrating replacement. I don’t know if it is part of just the general atmosphere of unhelpfulness of the Brits (of course, not in all cases, I have met a handful of Brits who have been some of the nicest people I’ve met) or what, but this incident certainly made me hate public transportation, which, being as I already hate it, means that I now hate it more than anything in the world, besides, of course, Lorna who I am determined to complain about to their customer service email which will be scathing and none too polite.
I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow. Woke exhausted the next morning needing about 3 hours more sleep. Breakfast was at 8:30 and was surprisingly good. The free breakfast was a lot more than I had imagined it would be and left us full and ready to start the day.
There isn’t much in Newcastle. But what the city had to offer, we saw. The Castle Keep is all that remains of a large, heavily fortified castle dating back to the early twelfth century. It is also where the city got its name.
We went to the Baltic Contemporary Art Museum which has several floors of cool exhibitions. I wouldn’t call any of the stuff art, but it was at least interesting to check out. It was at this point where I had a brilliant idea for an art piece.
What about a work of art in which you have guys working? In fact, that is what I would call it “Men working.” It would basically be a gallery full of men in hard hats setting up a gallery. Everyday they would continue to work on it and every so often, they would dismantle the whole thing and start on something new. It would never be the same work because they would always be on different stages of the setup and would continually be building new things. Nothing would ever be built completely, but everyone would think that some impressive construct was being set up. You could stand and watch from a balcony above and the men would just labor on as if they were building something. I’m going to look into it, but I think if someone can defecate on the Mona Lisa, or set up a toilet, or throw a bunch of burlap sacks on the ground and call it “art,” then mine should at least be considered by the art community at large.
It seemed to be a day of art as we next stopped at the Laing Art Gallery which didn’t contain much really. They had an interesting painting by some guy ‘Martin’ who painted a scene of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. I liked that, but I really didn’t recognize anything else in the museum.
I’m back at the hostel. The bus departing for Edinburgh doesn’t leave for another two and a half hours. A little reading and relaxing will be nice considering the exhaustion I’ve experienced the last few days.
The ride from Newcastle to Hexham follows the Tyne westwards. As you pass alongside the silvery-blue stream occasionally interrupted by little rapids of whitewater, you can’t help but think that you are now doing it, you’re traveling, living the dream.
The signs of spring are strewn everywhere in that countryside. Two lambs chase after their mother along a hill populated with hundreds of lambs chasing their mothers. It’s hard to tell whose family and who isn’t. A forty minute ride ended us in Hexham where most the station was locked up and one station worker directed us to the location where the Hadrian’s Wall bus would be stopping at hour intervals throughout the day.
The sun was just heating things up when the bus arrived alongside the station and we hopped on and asked the driver about the unlimited bus pass.
“No. You had to buy that when you got your rail ticket ‘to Hexham.”
You have got to be kidding me. Lorna, when I see you, I will fight you.
We gave in and just bought the bus tickets at $8 per person.
The bus takes you from Hexham along a sizeable portion of the wall all the way to Carlisle which was at one point the capital of England. A tour guide rides in the bus pointing out certain highlights of the wall, history of the Roman occupation from the time of Emperor Hadrian up until the Jacobite rebellions.
We got off the bus at Homesteads with the advised plan to check out the ruins of a Roman fort along the wall, walk along the wall for several hours and end at the Twice Brewed Inn three miles away.
Hadrian’s Wall stretches across the northern part of England about 75 miles and reaches from east to west coasts providing a barrier between the Roman civilization and the barbaric Celts and Picts to the north. Of course, the Scots are more civilized these days, but there was a time when it wasn’t safe to be anywhere distant from a tower at night for fear of roaming groups of marauders and brigands. The wall used to stand about 5 meters, probably close to 20 feet high and at some of the points we saw was at least 6 feet thick. The wall is contains towers every so often, but most of those no longer exist or are laid in ruinous heaps alongside the hiker’s path.
The terrain isn’t easy going and I wished I had been better equipped. Proper shoes, shorts in the heat, a camel back, and a packed lunch would have been the way to go, but it was still enjoyable and made me wish that I had camping gear, a mountain bike, and another week to spare to travel alongside the length of the wall.
We ended up at the Twice Brewed Inn and feasted on some of the best bangers and mash I’ve had in the country so far.
Exhausted from the hike, I stretched out on a bench near the bus stop and slept for about 40 minutes waiting for the bus.
Getting on the bus wasn’t a hassle, but I did myself a disservice by breaking the cardinal rule of public transportation I have imposed on myself: Always ask the driver where this bus is going. So far, this rule has never failed me and has kept me safe from disastrous consequences. I can now say with the Psalmist that the law is “sweeter than honey, even honey from the comb.” The bus was the service to Carlisle and we arrived there about an hour and a half later. It was nice because I got to see Carlisle and a lot of the English countryside, but the ride back was even longer and took me through the exact same countryside. We left at 2:30 from Twice Brewed and didn’t get back to Hexham until a quarter to six. Trains to Newcastle were five minutes delayed, but at this point I was just happy to be off the bus.
I don’t recall much of the ride back to Newcastle. An obnoxious youth chattered loudly on his cell phone most of the way, making me wish there was no law against destroying personal property.
Upon arriving in Newcastle, I decided that I might as well try to explain my situation to the ticket vendor in the hopes of a refund. Lorna wasn’t on duty, but another woman, similarly overweight, glasses, and unhelpful attitude had taken her place.
“Can I help you?”
Do you really want to help me or are you just working. “Hi. Yes. I was here earlier and Lorna sold me rail tickets ‘to Hexham.’ Now I asked her about getting the unlimited bus pass when I bought my tickets to Hexham and she said I was supposed to get those at the Hexham station. Well, there wasn’t anyone working there and I was charged several pounds more than was advertised on this pamphlet.”
I handed her the leaflet and she curiously looked at it and did whatever it is they do on those computers of theirs. Next I handed her my bus pass to show her what I meant.
“Well no, this is a different bus. The pamphlet here says the Plus Bus to the surrounding towns of Hexham.”
“No, I know. They are both Plus Bus operated lines, but I am talking about what it says below about when you purchase your rail ticket Hexham. See I bought a ticket to Hexham from Lorna and asked her about this bus pass and she said I had to buy that in Hexham. When I got to Hexham this (pointing at the bus receipt) is what they charged me.”
“I know Lorna and she knows how to do her job. She would have sold you the right ticket.”
I am starting to get frustrated. “Ma’m, I’m not questioning Lorna’s ability to do her job, I am just saying that I think she made a mistake here. See, I bought a rail ticket here and your literature says that when I buy my rail ticket, I can get this bus pass added on for $4. I asked about this and Lorna said to buy it in Hexham even though this says ‘when you buy your rail ticket to Hexham.’ I am just wondering if you can reimburse me the money which I would have saved had I bought the tickets here like your leaflet tells me.”
“Lorna would have sold you what she could have sold you. I know Lorna. She would have done what she could.”
Okay, forget Lorna. I’m not talking about Lorna. I’m talking about you reimbursing me the money your service lost me because of your incompetent employee, who, despite what you say, did not follow the directions of this leaflet and made a mistake raising the price of my journey to Hadrian’s Wall. Speaking slowly, I respond, “Yes, I know. But what I am saying is that on this literature it says that when I buy my ticket to Hexham, you can sell me a bus ticket for Hadrian’s Wall which would have saved me…”
“Lorna would have done what she could for you, I know her….”
“Well, this is obviously getting nowhere. Perhaps you should fix your pamphlets and just work on your poor customer care policies” as I angrily walk away from the ticket window realizing that the queue behind me had been lengthening for the past five minutes.
We spent the next hour emphasizing that little two letter preposition “to.” When you buy your tickets “to Hexham” you get the bus pass. Not in hexham, not at Hexham, not on your way, but when you buy rail tickets to Hexham. I don’t think college has made me all that intelligent. But what it has taught me is that when working with some people, it is easy to tell who is actually a competent human being. I could have done my job better than Lorna, or her unbelievably frustrating replacement. I don’t know if it is part of just the general atmosphere of unhelpfulness of the Brits (of course, not in all cases, I have met a handful of Brits who have been some of the nicest people I’ve met) or what, but this incident certainly made me hate public transportation, which, being as I already hate it, means that I now hate it more than anything in the world, besides, of course, Lorna who I am determined to complain about to their customer service email which will be scathing and none too polite.
I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow. Woke exhausted the next morning needing about 3 hours more sleep. Breakfast was at 8:30 and was surprisingly good. The free breakfast was a lot more than I had imagined it would be and left us full and ready to start the day.
There isn’t much in Newcastle. But what the city had to offer, we saw. The Castle Keep is all that remains of a large, heavily fortified castle dating back to the early twelfth century. It is also where the city got its name.
We went to the Baltic Contemporary Art Museum which has several floors of cool exhibitions. I wouldn’t call any of the stuff art, but it was at least interesting to check out. It was at this point where I had a brilliant idea for an art piece.
What about a work of art in which you have guys working? In fact, that is what I would call it “Men working.” It would basically be a gallery full of men in hard hats setting up a gallery. Everyday they would continue to work on it and every so often, they would dismantle the whole thing and start on something new. It would never be the same work because they would always be on different stages of the setup and would continually be building new things. Nothing would ever be built completely, but everyone would think that some impressive construct was being set up. You could stand and watch from a balcony above and the men would just labor on as if they were building something. I’m going to look into it, but I think if someone can defecate on the Mona Lisa, or set up a toilet, or throw a bunch of burlap sacks on the ground and call it “art,” then mine should at least be considered by the art community at large.
It seemed to be a day of art as we next stopped at the Laing Art Gallery which didn’t contain much really. They had an interesting painting by some guy ‘Martin’ who painted a scene of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. I liked that, but I really didn’t recognize anything else in the museum.
I’m back at the hostel. The bus departing for Edinburgh doesn’t leave for another two and a half hours. A little reading and relaxing will be nice considering the exhaustion I’ve experienced the last few days.
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