St Ninians Way completed to Carlisle

As I said in the last post,  I was in Dumfries for three nights in order to attend the AFotC AGM, the third night being so that I could recover from rising at 3 am the night before!  Even though I had a few hours sleep after the meeting, I wasn't bouncing around. 

This was Remembrance Sunday in the UK, and so I attended a church that was having a Remembrance service.  This meant it was starting at 10.50 instead of 11 so that the 2 minute silence was in the right place.  I whispered to the lass next door asking what denomination the church was, but she was a visitor too and didn't know, or perhaps couldn't understand me - I had trouble understanding her.

St Georges Church.  I wasn't even sure I was at a church building.

The centre of Dumfries. 

Over coffee, after the service,  I was regaled with stories of the area, amid much hilarity.   I tell people that I'd rather sit in a nursing home dreaming of what I DID do, than what I should have done.  I also tell people, lest they think I have the wealth of Gina Reinhardt (or whatever the UK equivalent is), that I am homeless because I have rented my house out to pay for this journey. 

Sometimes I hear people talking, and wonder if they are speaking English.  At the coffee chat after church a man was telling me all about landmark I would pass the following day - I was going past a couple of Rabbie Burns points of interest.  He told me I would pass the Blue Whale, then someone said I might hear it referred to as Blau Whale.  The next day, as I arrived at the Blue Whale, I  realised it was actually BROW WELL!  This was where Rabbie Burns went to take the waters near the end of his life.  One wag said "it killed him".  He died not long after his expedition there, so I am thinking it didn't help cure what is believed to be Ruematic fever.

Brow Well

After Brow Well I headed on to the village of of Ruthwell, passing a museum (closed) celebrating the establishment of the world's first savings bank in 1810, before finally reaching Anaan.

A street in Ruthwell...

...and the savings bank museum

A practical use for the old Red telephone boxes.

Anaan

Anaan

Leaving Anaan

The next day I headed for Gretna.  I had been telling Emrys (my son for those who don't know) that Gretna was where people would elope to.  Interestingly, he had never heard of it.  Gretna Green became popular from 1754 with a different Scottish law (to England) allowing couples under 18 to marry.  Originally it was the smithy who performed the ceremony.  A hundred years later a law was passed that couples had to reside in the parish of Gretna Green for three weeks before the marriage ceremony could be performed.   Presumably this gave irate parents a chance to talk their offspring out of it!

The path to Gretna led down to, and followed, the Solway Estuary.   It was a glorious walk, on a glorious day, though I had to keep my wits about me avoiding slipping, tripping or falling.  Obviously tides can be very high, though I didn't expect any threat from this on the day I was there, but to be sure, I kept my eyes peeled for exits should I need it.

Heading along the Solway 

The evidence of a hightide some time earlier. 

The path was rough, but I took consolation by the fact that it was green, so the last very high tide was some time ago.

A church in Gretna

There is a mammoth outlet shopping centre in Gretna, and by chance I found a new pair of waterproof shoes to replace my current ones which are on their last legs, at a bargain price!  I had reserved 2 nights in Carlisle to go shoe hunting and this means that I have a rest day where I have NOTHING to do!  Shoes have been purchased, and there is no laundromat so I can't even wash my clothes!  

Walking from Gretna was interesting, and dangerous, though I didn't know that initially.   A heavy fog made for poor visibility,  on what turned out to be a quite busy road.  Stopping at a pub some distance from Gretna for soup and coffee I established when I might be able to catch a bus.  Even that task was dodgy.  Google maps had the bus stop off the road on a service road to the village,  but intinct told me that might not be accurate so I stood on the edge of the busy road, on the wrong side because there was no verge at all on the other, and waved frantically when I saw the bus emerging at speed, out of the mist.  It did stop, and I had a much safer journey into Carlisle!

In 1757 Thomas Telford, the great engineer,  was born just a few miles away.  He started life as a stone mason, and built the original Saark bridge, since widened.

The border.

Through the fog, a channel of the River Esk

And the Metal Bridge Inn, where I called it a day!

The only task for me while in Carlisle is to work out how I will cross from the west to the east and where I will be able to stay.  The plan is to sue Hadrian's Wall path, though having done this last time I am looking carefully at places I can avoid climbing the many stiles on this path, and avoid the mud and muck left by the cows.  It remains to be seen how successful I might be!