I’m more than a little embarrassed to admit this, but I didn’t learn much about the history of Hadrian’s Wall when we went to visit. Sure, I’d heard of it before, and I was thrilled to visit something so old, but I was too distracted by the beauty of the north Yorkshire landscape. Rolling hills, heather-covered meadows, sheep everywhere, and a beautiful, wild wind that made the grass ripple and roll like ocean waves…my brain wanted to stop thinking and just let my senses take over. And I allowed it.
On our drive to Hadrian’s Wall and the Housesteads Roman Fort, we stopped by “Rusty Rita,” the Angel of the North in Gateshead. She’s worth stopping for, but it you don’t have time, wave as you pass by.
Cross your fingers that they’re sampling the English Heritage gin, mead, and wine! Be warned: you may end up walking away with a bottle of damson gin to consume during late nights of dice games (we were getting so rowdy we were sure the neighbors would call the police and complain about our screeching).
Photos can’t really do this place justice. It’s magical, and if you haven’t been, I suppose you’ll just have to take my word for it. In the words of my Uncle Les, this place is one England’s finest.
Some people walk the entire length of the wall. If I lived in England, I’d love to do it.
As I said, words and photographs just aren’t enough to convey the extraordinary peace and connection to the past that this place holds. If you get the chance, visit and let yourself get lost in the moment.