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airport Edinburgh (1)

I thought we’d never see this sign.

We arrived at the Atlanta airport in the early afternoon on July 1, intending to fly Delta to JFK around 5pm, but they evacuated our plane right after bumping me to first class, so we caught another plane, where I again got bumped to first class, and I worried whether we’d make it in time to board our plane to Edinburgh about 10pm and land at 10 the next morning, local time.  But instead, we diverted to Rochester, sat on the ground a few hours, and then landed at JFK at 1am.  God was telling me I shouldn’t have left my family back in coach.

Then we stood in separate lines several gates apart (while I sat on hold on my phone) for a few hours, trying to figure out how to get across the Atlantic, as our 3 small children sat on the floor next to all our unchecked luggage.  At 5am, we took off to Heathrow in London and landed in the late afternoon local time.  A couple more hours on the phone and in conversation with a British Airways gate agent, and we were heading to Edinburgh.  We landed at 11:30pm and waited for a taxi outside, which was 50 degrees less than Atlanta was outside when we dressed for our flight, while I texted our Air BnB owner that we’d made it to her country and to please hide the key for us somewhere (she was threatening to go to sleep).  At 1am, our taxi dropped us off at our flat; the owner left us a key with a neighbor.

staircase

We climbed to the 6th floor of our building on Royal Park Terrace by Holyrood Park, claimed our sleeping spaces, and caught 5 hours of sleep before our scheduled Sunday morning tour of Loch Ness and the Highlands that would involve 12 hours on a tour bus.  We’d lost our first day, but we would make our first organized tour.  We were all in Scotland for the first time for any of us–land of my paternal grandmother’s people and my bride’s paternal line.  And we were going to enjoy it, dammit.

Cafe Nero provided our first local meal–coffee and more coffee–before we boarded our bus and headed north.  We pulled over once we’d slipped the bonds of the city and entered the Highlands.  We even talked our guide, Kenny, into posing with us for a picture.

Highlands with Kenny the tour guide

A bit more time in the bus, and we were pulling up to Loch Ness for a trip across the black waters in search of a prehistoric beast that looked something like this:

with the monster

The boat ride was interesting, fun, and relaxing at the same time.  They had screens for the passengers to see sonar images of the bottom of the loch, so that we could search for signs of life in the water. The children loved it.  It stopped in front of the Urquhart Castle.

loch ness castle

The guided tour continued a bit farther, turned around, and then returned to the dock.  The children bought souvenirs; I bought a beer.

Then it was back into the tour bus.  Kenny warned us the roads ahead would be hilly and curvy and narrow, but he didn’t warn us that the mayo on the sandwiches we’d taken for the boat ride might have been too warm, and my youngest didn’t warn us that she’d be vomiting all over herself and her mother in the back seat of our bus.

The views were magnificent.  Magical, even.  Lush green towering above black rivers and lakes into a misty canopy that faded into the cloud cover above.

Highlands Commandos

We stopped by a monument honoring the original Commandos (my high school’s mascot!) in 1940–the British special forces that fought in WWII.  Our tour made additional stops to see more areas of natural beauty along the way –old stone bridges, water falls, mountains, and lakes–before returning to Edinburgh on the Royal Mile.  It was sunny past 10pm, so we walked around town for a bit, exploring the closes that branched off the Royal Miles before returning to our quarters.

Our first day in Scotland began early and ended late, but now that I’m back from this 18-day trip to the United Kingdom and have the benefit of hindsight, I can honestly say it was one of our family’s favorite days (or perhaps most favorite!).  Leaving the Atlanta heat and congestion for the wide open green spaces and cool temperatures of this area of Scotland is an activity we now want to do annually!

This weekend, I had a professional conference at Amelia Island, Florida, and I was talking late one evening with a friend’s husband who travels a lot, and he was saying he carries disinfectant wipes with him when he’s on the road, so that he can wipe down hotel remotes when he checks in for the week, since (he assures me) the hotels’ staff aren’t cleaning TV remote controls.  I was puzzled by this ritual and pointed out that I never turn on my TV in hotel rooms, because I’m always out “doing stuff” like “exploring the city I’m in” or “enjoying local restaurants and bars,” etc.

He said, “Well, when you’re there all week and are by yourself, you’d probably turn on TV in the evenings, and you gotta figure guys are watching the dirty movies they have and masturbating, and then they turn the TV off before bed with their unclean hands.”

“No, that’s not something I would ‘figure’ at all, but it makes sense now that you explain it.”  Then I thought for a minute.  “Actually, last night, our children went to be pretty early, so we pulled out my ipad pro and watched an episode of ‘Daredevil’ on Netflix.  We haven’t touched our hotel remote at all the past 3 days!”  And, I immediately felt better.

Thanks, streaming Netflix.  You’re keeping strange semen off my hands.

sign in Carlisle

Last week, we completed our much-anticipated walk from the Irish Sea to the North Sea along Hadrian’s Wall in northern England, and it was the second life experience (the first one being going to war) I’ve had which I can now describe with the phrase, “I probably wouldn’t choose to do it again, but I wouldn’t take anything for the experience of having gone.”

at pub before walk

Our journey began with a Friday night cookout in the backyard of our late friend Oren Miller‘s wife’s aunt, followed by a trip to the pub where he and his wife, Beth, met.  Given the reason for our walk was to raise money for a Camp Kesem location at his alma mater in his honor, this seemed altogether fitting and proper.  My children opened beer cans for extra pence, alternating between delighting and horrifying everyone, depending on the kids’ level of persistence (and begging).

We took a train from London to Carlisle the next morning and, after sleeping on a cot in an old gymnasium Saturday night, we shoved off for our trek from the Solway Firth at Bowness-on-Solway to Carlisle, assuming we’d stop soon for breakfast, but “soon” became 4+ hours and many miles, and I’ve never been happier to see a “Greyhound” sign (this one being a pub, not a bus depot), so we could finally sit down and have beers and food (in that order of importance).

Greyhound

We pressed on toward Carlisle, across pastures full of sheep, over gates, through tall grass, and finally into the city where we’d get nice beds to sleep in at the Ibis hotel on Sunday night.  My Fitbit Blaze showed 40,000 steps for the day–over 17 miles.  We gathered at The Griffin for dinner and some European football (interrupted by the drunken rants of a local woman, who insisted I should have “been there for her” in 1952–this delighted my companions but mortified your storyteller).

The next morning (Monday), we bought foot care supplies, stopped by Carlisle Cathedral, and continued along the path.

group shot day 2

cathedral

We passed through more pastures. The animals were friendlier on day 2.

Wing w horse

black sheep

And all the while, we followed the white acorn.

gate

Day 2 concluded at Sandysike farm, run by a nice couple who fed us and offered me whisky for my tired, post-30,000-steps-that-day feet, and I loved him for it.

me w the innkeeper w whisky

Only the next day did I learn every shot cost £4.  My love dwindled a bit.

Day 3 (Tuesday) promised to finally allow us to see remains of the Wall, as so far, we walked the Wall Path, but the stones themselves had been taken to build homes and cathedrals or whatever else the English wanted to do with Roman wall stones once they were no longer under Roman rule.  I was excited.

wearing 1st name tag

Each day, we wore wooden name tags like the kids at Camp Kesem wear, and on the tags, we honored persons selected by donors of $100 or more of sponsorship.  The start of the wall seemed a good place for a lunch break and photographs, so we took advantage of it.

wall shot day 3

We kept “safety first” a priority along the streets, but most of the day was spent along the wall, going up and down rolling hills, and through the grass.

walking by street sign

It was 30,000+ steps and was my favorite day of hiking thus far, since we had wall to look at and rolling hills to climb with the start of some great views from atop (little did I know how much this would improve on subsequent days).  We stopped at our B&B/bunkhouse, and I was one of the lucky few to have a room with an attached shower (and, even better, the innkeeper did laundry for us!).  Dinner was at an odd bar in Greenhead where we had to act like we were in smaller groups of 4 and didn’t know each other, since they didn’t seem to like non-locals, but we got a pretty good meal.  The next morning would be the first day of new topography–crags.

me hiking in motion

I loved hiking on day 4 (Wednesday).  The scenery was the best we’d seen so far, and it was our lowest day of mileage–under 10 miles (just over 21,000 steps), which seemed comparatively easy.  Perhaps even lazy!

crags along wall wall fence crag

But then it started to rain.  We were used to rain showers, but this day’s rain wasn’t a shower–it was torrential.  Because it was also our first day of significant hills, the group started to fracture into smaller groups after a bit, with a few folks electing to walk to the side of the steep inclines later in the day.  This meant the water rushed at them from atop the rolling hills in the crags.  This photo only captures a portion of the misery:

rain soaked hikers

Phil, our only wall walking veteran, was behind Mike and me, and I had no idea where the other 9 of us were.  I pulled up my hood, pulled the rain cover over my backpack, and continued along the wall in utter misery, as I quickly learned my “water resistant” hiking pants were not very resistant, and sheets of water poured down my legs and filled my socks and boots.  I saw hikers coming toward me slip and fall down the crags I had to climb; I was glad I sprung for the hiking poles that were on sale at REI right before I left.

Eventually, the rain let up, and we broke off the wall path and headed south, completely fortuitously ending up at bunkhouse where we were slated to sleep, and all but Phil were waiting and wondering where the rest of our group was.  About 20 minutes later, Phil came down and joined us (shorty after Whit had run back up the hill toward the wall to find him).  Everyone was drenched and miserable, but we made our way just up the street to the Twice Brewed Inn pub for some dinner and spirits, and when we walked outside, a double rainbow greeted us.

rainbows

wing and i by wall

Day 5 (Thursday) was physically harder, but it was my favorite day of the hike so far (and favorite of the entire hike, now that I have the benefit of hindsight).  We climbed the steepest crags (even seeing an obelisk marking the highest point of the entire Wall path), saw numerous milecastles and an old Roman temple, and stopped for pictures in the most photographed area of the path–Sycamore Gap (where scenes from Kevin Costner’s “Robin Hood” were shot).

tree in gap tallest point sycamore gap crags view

temple

The day ended at just under 14 miles (31,000 steps), and we stayed at Greencarts Farm for the night. After dinner, I won all the English equivalent of Chex  mix that any of my opponents had in a very intense poker match.

chex mix poker

Clearly, I paid attention at the Kenny Rogers concert a few weeks ago.

Day 6 (Friday) was to be the longest and most difficult day.  We left the crags fairly early in the day, and we crossed fields and pastures as we paralleled the old Military Road leading to Newcastle.

Whit climbing

We started early, encountered some rain, and stopped just after noon at Errington Arms pub for a meal (and whisky shots) before pressing on toward the Robin Hood pub, built in 1752 from stones “borrowed” from Hadrian’s Wall, and eventually The Three Tuns for dinner and more whisky before we reached our quarters for the evening at Houghton North Farm at Heddon-on-the-Wall.  When I sat down at the Three Tuns about 6:30pm, my legs, hips, and ankles were in agony.  I had no desire to walk any further.  We’d gone more than 20 miles–almost 44,000 steps.  The next day would be our last day of the walk.

fit bit

The final day (Saturday) meant more walking east along Military Road, but at some point, we were supposed to get into Newcastle upon Tyne, and that would mean we were near the end.

Seeing the river was the first sign of progress toward the end, and a few miles later, we entered the city, stopping for a meal about 1pm.  More whisky was involved; my feet and legs were screaming.

Newcastle appears to be known for its numerous bridges, but the Gateshead Millennium Bridge (which tilts!) is its most famous.

Newcastle bridge

We continued along the city sidewalks, and then Emperor Hadrian himself greeted us to tell us we were close.

the emporer

We paused and regrouped for the last mile to the Segedunum fort–the end point.  It was obviously going to be another 40,000+ step day.

Finally, we came to the fort and the stone that marked the eastern edge of Hadrian’s Wall.  Jeff broadcast our walk’s conclusion live on Facebook.  Brent placed Oren’s hat on the chunk of wall marking the end point (he’d carried it with him every day of the walk), and a couple guys placed wooden name tags bearing his name next to the cap.

the end

hat at end

I’ve seen on TV sometimes when people finish a marathon or Iron Man, they shed tears from joy or relief or something, but I’ve never experienced it personally as either a viewer or a participant.  But after walking 100 miles over 7 days–nearly 40 of them the last 2 days–and seeing that chunk of stone with Oren’s cap on it, I’m pretty sure all of us wept; some, inconsolably.  We were almost at our goal of $40,000 raised; we were all 12 together after having a few days where 1 or more of us was too injured to participate; we’d finished a quest that we’d discussed and planned and anticipated for over a year.  Now it was over.

group shot at end of walk

John had to catch a train to meet his family almost immediately; the rest of us checked into our hotel before meeting again for dinner and some drinks in Newcastle.  At almost midnight that night, we reached $40,000–the amount needed to finance a Camp Kesem at the University of Maryland.  We met our goal in both distance and dollars.  The quest truly was finished.

And all of us are better men for having participated.

***

(all photos used for this post from the #dads4kesem instagram page)

If you supported us during this walk, we greatly and sincerely appreciate it!  If you didn’t, it’s not too late–every $500 given above the $40k to set up the camp will go toward sending a child to camp there, so let the philanthropy continue! Here’s the link:  dads4kesem.org.