OK, I’ll admit it. My own ignorance nearly did me in. I thought I had carefully planned my walking holiday along the Hadrian’s Wall Path in Northern England, but rain and my own folly proved to be more of a challenge than the miles of footpaths between Bowess-on-Solway and Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.
My home in Southern California is in a desert climate, you see, so I’d had neither experience nor training on how to go about walking in rainstorms, let alone in floods like those being experienced in the UK this summer. Fortunately, I was able to find resources to help me compensate for my lack of foresight. Most notably, the AD 122 Hadrian’s Wall bus line that runs the length of Hadrian’s Wall proved to be a godsend, allowing me to travel back and forth along the wall, visiting museums and backtracking to sections of the Hadrian’s Wall Path I would otherwise have been unable to revisit.
If you haven’t heard about the flooding going on in the UK this summer, let me give you a thumbnail sketch. Whatever has been reported in the news has been greatly understated. The reality is far worse and folks up and down the British Isles have been seriously contemplating whether or not they should go into the ark business. Some are calling it the “British Katrina“, and as one who has seen first-hand what Katrina did to Louisiana and Mississippi, the term fits. Homes and businesses have been flooded, people and livestock have drowned, and local agriculture has taken a massive hit because crops either cannot be harvested or have spoiled while submerged under multiple feet of floodwaters. Water systems that have been restored are still contaminated, and just like us, the British are getting a first-hand lesson in the avarice and insensitivity of insurance companies.
By comparison, my own troubles were as nothing. I managed to miss the worst of the rainstorms, unlike other poor souls whose walking holidays consisted of wading through knee deep mud and driving rain. Likewise, my home was safe and sound and in the care of friends while I was away. But humans are self-centered creatures, and I am no exception. I went to great lengths (and expense) planning this vacation, but to no avail. Nothing went according to plan, and within a matter of days I had more “adventures” on this trip than I could have ever imagined.
My first problem was ignorance. I did bring waterproof hiking boots, but I did not realize that once your trousers are soaked through they cling to your legs and act like funnels, sending gallons of water into your shoes. Nor did I realize that waterproof boots are really good at keeping the water in. And the idea of bringing a second set of dry socks had never even crossed my mind. Nor did it occur to me to bring my amphibious walking sandals instead of hiking boots. I believed, erroneously, that my waterproof boots, rain jacket and backpack cover would be enough to see me through inclement weather. I could not have been more wrong.
The first day out I was scheduled to walk some fifteen miles. OK, I was a little worried about the distance, but the advantage to walking on one’s own is that I would be able to pace myself and take whatever time I needed to get to my lodgings for that night. I started out with high hopes and higher spirits under dark and cloudy skies, excited but unconcerned about what the day would bring. From Bowness-on-Solway I made my way eastward, first through Port Carlisle, then onwards through Glasson, moving steadily towards my first destination at a bed-and-breakfast in Carlisle. It was somewhere between Glasson and Drumburgh that the skies opened up and the rain came down in sheets.
At first I didn’t mind. It was kind of pleasant walking in the rain. The cool water was refreshing and the novelty of it all added to my sense of adventure. Then I realized that the water was flowing right into my boots. Hmmm, thought I… This was not something I had planned for, nor did I realize just how big a problem it was about to become.
By the time I got to Burgh-by-Sands, I knew I was in trouble. I just didn’t know how much. I stopped at the pub on the roadside, set myself down at one of their picnic tables, took off my sodden shoes and wrung out my socks as best I could. Then I took a good look at my feet. The blisters had begun, and I still had eight more miles to go before I reached my destination that day.
I should have called for a cab right then, but hubris and ego won out over basic good sense. It was the first day of my walking vacation and I was determined to reach Carlisle under my own power. So, I ate my sack lunch, looked over my maps, did what I could to get as much water out of my socks as possible, then packed everything away and made ready to continue down the road.
Did I ever mention how stubborn I can be? If not, then let me tell you now, I can be as mule-headed and irrational as anything, and that sheer cussedness is pretty much all that made it possible for me to get all the way to Carlisle on foot. Unfortunately, when I got to that night’s lodgings, my luggage was elsewhere. There had been a mix-up and the luggage transfer company had been told to put my bags into storage.
I didn’t cry, but it was a near thing. When I called the baggage company I felt (and probably sounded) truly pitiful. Thankfully, they were merciful and delivered my bags to the B&B in less than an hour. I think I probably frightened the poor man who delivered my luggage, but I was so grateful to have clean, dry clothes that I was a bit intense in expressing my thanks.
After taking a hot shower, changing into blissfully dry clothes and getting some warm food and cool ale, I was much refreshed, but faced with a dilemma. My feet were a mess, and I had nearly seventy miles yet to go to make it to Newcastle and Wallsend. I could persist in my determination to press on, suffering the consequences of my ignorance and folly, or I could seek out alternative ways travel along Hadrian’s Wall. I chose the latter, and the AD 122 came to my rescue.
The AD 122 Bus is an award-winning service that runs along Hadrian’s Wall. It is named in honor of the year in which Roman Emperor Hadrian visited Britain and ordered construction of the wall which bears his name. In my case, it was the perfect solution to my predicament. 
The AD 122 not only travels along the route of Hadrian’s Wall, it also stops at major sites, including the ruins at Housesteads, Vindolanda, Chesters, and Corbridge. Within hours of setting foot on the bus, I knew I had made the right decision and from that point forward the AD 122 became the means by which I traveled back and forth along the Wall, commuting between my various lodging points and visiting ruins, museums and other points of interest along the way. Best of all, as my feet healed I was able to backtrack to sections of the Hadrian’s Wall Path I didn’t want to miss.
In the end, blistering my feet was a blessing in disguise. Had I not done so, I would have been busy walking for miles through fields that have little or no remnants of Hadrian’s Wall left to be seen. I would also have missed out on much of the archeology and history of the region as time and energy limitations make walking the Path and visiting all the sites virtually impossible. But without the AD 122 I would not have had the ability to choose as I did. I would have been locked into my original action plan, walking the remaining miles on blistered feet, and most likely regretting every step.
The AD 122 saved my British holiday, and I, for one, am extremely glad it did.