Housteads Roman Fort and Wark Forest

It finally rained after dinner last night and carried on all night with strong winds. It was still damp and windy in the morning so we had a leisurely breakfast before heading to Housteads Roman Fort just before ten.

We arrived at 10.10 with two coaches packed with tourists. Parking was by number plate recognition which allowed us to pay as we leave so there was no guessing how much time was needed but the minimum was £3.00 for 3 hours. “That’s scary,” Van-Man said. “Technology’s taking over everywhere.”

What, more Roman ruins?

It was a fifteen minute trek up a steep hill to the fort from the car park and the path was heaving with walkers from 3 coaches and a herd of car drivers and passengers of varying fitness. Added to them was a bus load of walkers. Having got used to her own company Lottie looked disgruntled as people manoeuvred for space. We let the coach people go ahead but soon started overtaking the less fit ones. Some people didn’t look as if they would make it up the hill, whereas two boys vaulted the gate into a field before their father could open it for them. A third boy got stranded part way over the gate but his legs were shorter.

underfloor heating foundations

The fort had the footings of whole streets of barracks intact and a high surrounding wall. The site was so large that we soon got away from the coaches and their guides and didn’t feel hemmed in by the other visitors.

However it was very windy on the hill top and there was dampness in the air as if a cold shower was imminent. After looking around the fort Van-Man suggested walking along the wall. However we couldn’t get out onto it on top of the hill. After climbing down to the path we started to plod upwards again. A sudden gust of wind stopped me in my tracks.

Let's not follow the wall in this wind

“Let’s not bother,” Van-Man said. “My legs still ache from yesterday.”Lottie clearly agreed, instead of lagging behind she was pulling him back down the hill, the lead taught in his hands.

We took it in turns to look around the small museum and headed back to the van with Lottie leading. We had lunch during which I dug out our old faithful book Discovering Britain as it often had the less known wonders to visit.

We want somewhere out of the wind,” Van-Man said.

Where did those coach loads of people go?

“How about Wark Forest,” I replied. Its low lying and the trees will act as a wind break.”

“Not if it’s like the Ashdown Forest,” he replied. “The foresters keep cutting down the trees leaving only gorse. It should be called Ashdown Heath.”

“It’s in Northumberland National Park,” I told him. “At Stonehaugh.”

We looked at the road atlas. It showed 6 miles of narrow road to get there and marked a picnic area, however there were no weight or height restriction.

The communal latrine

“Why not,” Van-Man said getting out to pay the parking fee. “These local roads have been good and traffic free.”

It wasn’t far too where the single track road began but the wind buffeted the van. The road was narrow very straight rolling over the hills roman style but there were lots of passing places.

We met one car and one lorry on the way. Getting past the lorry was tight. Van-Man crept into a passing place and I folded back the wing mirror so the lorry could creep past.

Lower part of the fort

The small car park at the picnic site was empty with no parking charges and boasted a composting loo. It also had an information board showing various walks.

We decided on a blue walk past a waterfall, however finding the start of the walk was tricky as it wasn’t signed. We followed a public footpath as it crossed the river over a footbridge and through the long grass of the meadow beyond. The wind was far less noticeable here.

I pointed to the left. “The waterfall is over there."

“The path is this way. There may be a bigger fall over here.”

The peaty waterfall

I followed him and the track led to a wider one signed with an orange dot.

“That’s funny,” I said there was only red, blue and yellow walks.”

Perhaps this is the red one my colour blind hubby replied.

It’s orange,” I insisted. The track seemed to be a logging track following the perimeter fence so we headed back to the meadow noticing a lovely path on the far side of the river. Back in the hay meadow which was ready to cut there was a faint track leading to a barn.

it tastes fine

We followed Lottie along it and found the waterfall behind the barn which was the colour of tea due to the peaty water. Lottie enjoyed a dip in the stream and also a run through the meadow’s long damp grass. We only saw one walker on this walk.

The river at Wark Forest

Back at the car park we checked the map on the information board. The waterfall was shown by a barn so we had found the right path. However a well defined path led from the corner of the picnic area along the other side of the rover so after a relaxing break with juice and a snack we headed that way. The Lurcher was still keen to go but we wandered at a leisurely pace through the tranquil surroundings. Lottie enjoyed the level walk and being able to paddle when she wanted. We left at about 4.00. I suggested going home via Hexham rather than cutting across to the campsite on the narrow roads. It was 24 degrees as we headed back on an easy drive.

our woodland walk

Van-Man and Lottie collapsed outside on the bank while I set up the inside for the evening. Before long Van-Man took Lottie for a short wander around the site to take pictures of our base for the week which I posted with the first days blog.

The evening was hot but fortunately there are two top hatches to open to keep the van cool. In that aspect it is better than our old boat.