Day 5: Lanercost to Gilsland (5 miles, 6 hours, including stopover at Birdoswald Fort)

[Note:  photos, and text revisions, to come]

Breakfast was amusing. 6 of us showed up early--the two physicians, the lady of leisure and her guide, Pop and I. Everyone had chosen something different from the available "cooked breakfast" options. The psychiatrist was poking dubiously at something advertised as "rancher's eggs"--a Britished version of huevos rancheros; the GP had soft boiled eggs in little egg cups; Pop tried the "traditional Northumbrian breakfast" with sausage and bacon, eggs, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and baked beans (he was quite happy to note the absence of black pudding (a traditional sausage of pork fat, oatmeal, and blood); the guide was tucking into scrambled eggs and bacon; I, being egg averse and thus limited in my options, was tackling a large kipper; and the lady of leisure and fitness buff, who announced that she hates breakfast, was having tea and Marlboros. She kept popping out between cups of tea to have a cigarette, but she eventually decided it was more fun to stay and watch me wrestle with the kipper. A proper Brit would, of course, eat the kipper bones and all, but I'm not much more keen on fish bones than I am on eggs, so I was tweezering them out with fork and fingers as I went--a somewhat Sisyphean task.

5 miles today--piece of cake!--not really--getting pretty worn and both feet are blistered badly enough to  make each step painful. The body is failing, but the spirits are still most contented. We are now in full Wall territory--extensive stretches of exposed stone wall with bridge foundations and turrets and  mile forts and larger forts and frequent, though still tasteful enough, tourist venues.  The fields are larger, with patches of moorland on the far hills. Few cattle; sheep as far as the eye can see.

Hard to see in the photo, but high tension lines march steadily across the horizon below. I imagine the Romans would approve of this orderly imposition of technology and stamp of power on the landscape. I had assumed that Hadrian's army looked out on wilderness, but the museum at Birdoswald Fort claims the landscape had been cleared to farmland before the Romans arrived.

Again excellent accomodations with far better food than hiking across rough country usually offers: tonight a platter of smoked Scottish salmon with cress and  pickles, dill mustard, lemon, and brown bread; a sweet and subtle tagine of eggplant, zucchini, tomato, onion, apricot, almond, honey, and spices with chickpeas and tender, succulent lamb; a course of local cheeses with fresh fruit and plum chutney; and a spicy Pinot grigio.