SWINGING TOWARDS CHOLLERFORD

TUESDAY 9 TH MAY, 2006

Another stunning midsummer day greeted us as we trekked up Cawfield Crags, the first of many steep climbs that day.Stretching out before us lay miles of stunning countryside, with sheer drops to the north and gently rolling terrain to the south. Yes, we were about to cross The Great Whin Sill, a geographer`s paradise of volcanic rock, shafted deep into the landscape some 280 million years ago and subsequently exposed by erosion. If only I had the energy to stand and extol these virtues to my fellow walkers. But words were the least of my problems;just trying to keep up with Nick,the mountain goat of the party, was sufficient. As he disappeared over another ridge he would shout encouragingly to the three of us; "keep up you big wussie`s". And then, as if to rub it in, he`d climb some of the steepest crags and still have time to pause before once more offering us supportive advice."Why, when I was climbing in Nepal, my sherpa`s blisters were bigger than most of these hills .Put a move on you, you big girl`s blouses." And then, Mike, MP for Gusset and the Borders showed his true colours;and they were green."I like green" he kept saying. "I thought he was a Tory" I said "especially as he was talking about the birch with Nick". "Me too", replied Dave. "Hey Mike, what`s it with all this green ?" .Mike pointed below us to the flatter gently rolling hillside. "That path down there; it goes the same way as us, but it`s oh so beautifully flat....and it`s green. I like green". Within minutes we were following the `low road`, occasionally to be assaulted by far off cries from Nick of "you pooooftas".He was now no more than a mere spot on a distant peak. We were happy.

The Roman Wall along this section is spectacular, and runs for miles. The fort at Great Chesters is also a stunning reminder of the power and influence of the former Roman Empire. For the first and only time on this walk (with the exception of the Newcastle section) we encountered significant numbers of other walkers and day trippers. The Wall`s deserved`World Heritage Site` status had acted as a magnet at this point, and there were groups from Japan, Holland, Canada, the US and France, as well as five hairy muscle-men from Canvey Island. We made our way along from the fort to the quieter shady shelter of Roman Milecastle 34, unpacked our sandwiches and ate, `au naturel`. It was hard to imagine too many finer spots in which to dine. How much would they charge for this view in London, I wondered. ?

Onward we charged after lunch, encouraged by the knowledge that we`d traversed the highest points of the walk. Everything would be down hill from now on. The Roman Wall became more patchy but this was more than made up for by a visit to the temple to Mithras, the Persian god, just south of Brocolitia Roman Fort. I rubbed my hands over the images on the stonework. "Incredible stuff,considering they`re 2000 years old". "More like 20", said Dave, "the original`s are in the Newcastle Museum of Antiquities". Nick, who would later claim to be very interested in this site sat tending a blister on his foot. "Is it far to Chollerford ?".

Now to most casual observers, Chollerford is a village of a few dozen people, nestling quietly just south of the Wall, on the road to Hexham. Knowing that it was to be our overnight stop, I did a little google research, as you do, into its background. When I came upon a site for the `Chollerford Swingers`, I thought as I`m sure you would, dear reader, that the village had some sort of dance band. "Might be an option to pursue", I`d thought to myself, "wonder where they practice ?". A further click of the mouse, and the full extent of my naivety became apparent. This was in fact a site for a very different sort of swinger, that modesty and ignorance of the facts forbids me to describe any further. And not only that, it claimed to be the biggest such`swinging` site in Northern Europe, with thousands of subscribers,and yes, Chollerford was the place to be ! There were, apparently, maps and all sorts of unusual types of directions. I switched off google,the computer,and pulled the plug out of the wall. There. I would be safe now.

As we sat eating our meal that night in The Swan, we laughed at the very thought that such a small and beautiful spot could have been chosen for such a seedy activity. And then, in walked a coachload of some 40 Swedish women. We looked at each other, and then the door. We still had enough energy to leg it, but Mike hadn`t finished his puddin`. Just then, Mischa out Latvian waitress came over. "You like coffee outside in lounge please?" she said. Rarely can a European agreement have been so quickly confirmed. We were up and out, Mischa bringing up the rear carrying Mike`s pudding. Thankfully, it later transpired that the Swedes were on nothing more sinister than a shopping trip to Newcastle. It just goes to show;you can`t believe everything you read on google.