Carlisle to Bowness-on-Solway 16 miles

After seven days of Roman history, dramatic escarpments, rolling farmland and memorable encounters along the way, all that remained was the final 16 miles from Carlisle to Bowness-on-Solway. We had imagined a triumphant finale. Instead, we got one of the hardest days of the whole walk. I’m not quite sure why it was so hard – the route was pretty flat, there were no obstacles to speak of, but it just seemed monotonous and long….very long. 

Leaving Carlisle, the route takes you back out to the parkland to the north of the city. We took a slight detour to go via the Cathedral and the Castle. Stretches of shared pedestrian and cycle path soon give way to cinder track and then some up and down sections through woodland on the river banks. 

There are some alarming signs about the way being impassable at high tide, but luckily enough for us the tide was out and there was no danger of getting stuck. At the village of Grinsdale, we left the banks of the River Eden and headed inland. This section took us along tarmac roads, and along airless, hemmed in lanes. After the varied terrain of previous days, it felt surprisingly monotonous. The miles ticked by steadily, but there was little to distract us from the relentless rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other. 

We reached Beaumont and found that the community centre there has toilets we could use and a little further on came to a refreshment shack selling bottles of cold water which went down a treat. 

At the tidal information notice board at Longburgh we entered the Solway Coast Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. This is a vast area of salt marsh stretching out in the distance towards Scotland. It is flat with wide skies, endless horizons, and a patchwork of grasses and mudflats which all reminded me of the east coast of Lincolnshire where I come from. A totally different vista from the one we had had up on the high points of Hadrian’s Wall a couple of days previously. 

But there was one problem. It was blisteringly hot. The black tarmac seemed to radiate heat back at us, every step making our already tired feet just that little bit more uncomfortable. What was worse, was that the tarmac road stretched straight ahead for several miles, with no shade in sight. My heel, which had started complaining yesterday, was now forefront in my mind with every step. To make matters worse, the horseflies (or clegs) had clearly decided we were quite tasty. There was a section after Drumburgh where you leave the road and enter more of the enclosed grassy lanes and then another section through overgrown shrubbery. The biting insects had a field day in there, relentlessly nibbling on our exposed flesh despite our flailing arms and whipping walking poles. 

The Highland Laddie at Glasson offered brief respite with a well-earned ice cream and a restful bench. Then it was on again in the heat of the afternoon sun. 

We passed by Port Carlisle, the place where an ambitious project to create a canal in 1823 was short-lived in favour of filling it in to build a railway in 1853. Neither of these milestones of transport exist today and we had to plod on down the tracks and road. 

By this stage, we were simply counting down the miles. I can’t say this was a particularly enjoyable day, at all. It was a real struggle and the last section of tarmac from Port Carlisle to Bowness-on-Solway seemed interminably long. 

And then, there we were, we’d arrived at Bowness-on-Solway at long last. There was no dramatic finish line or grand monument waiting for us. Just a quiet Cumbrian village at the western end of Hadrian’s Wall, where Roman frontier history finally meets the waters of the Solway Firth. If we hadn’t been paying attention it would have been easy to miss the runnel through the houses to get to Banks and the site of our last passport stamp. At least there had been some effort made here to create a sense of achievement with a pretty viewpoint looking out over the salt marsh – at low tide, though, it was not the best time to see it. 

So, that was our Hadrian’s Wall journey. One final stop to stamp our Hadrian’s Wall passports, a few photographs to mark the occasion, and it was over. Eighty-four miles. Eight days. Countless Roman sites, spectacular scenery, friendly hosts, too much tarmac, excellent cafés, aching legs, and more than a little determination.

We stopped in Bowness-on-Solway overnight at Bowness House Farm which is a higgledy-piggledy arrangement that seems to be trying to create some sort of visitor attraction, although didn’t seem to be finished yet. There are shepherds huts in the grounds and an accommodation block in the corner of the farmyard with ensuite bedrooms where we stayed. There is a small café that offers a bar and food but we ate at the Kings Arms just round the corner which offered a basic menu (scampi and chips, burgers, etc).  Next morning, we gathered at the bus stop with a random collection of walkers from nations far and wide for the final part of our journey back to Carlisle and onwards via train to home. At least we didn’t have far to walk.