Last stretch of Cumbria Way started out pleasantly enough, but the last several miles were like the last several miles of Hadrian's Wall: excruciatingly dull: flat and on asphalt. This is demanding walking, physically and mentally, and really makes you want to call a taxi, especially when it is raining, but it would be even worse in the heat.
Some pretty moments on the way:
A bridge in a tenuous state of repair is better than no bridge at all:
Waterfall god?
In Carlisle, I visited the Guildhall Museum, built 1407. Very little of the 15th century structure is preserved, but the lady at the desk was more than eager to explain the many layered building technique: brick, a layer of woven twigs, then a sort of plastery stuff and to finish it off, a coat of lime. The "nails" were thick, round pegs inserted into holes of approximately the same size, where they would expand to fill the space (one hoped).
Loom, not from 15th century but pretty darn old:
Finally stopped at Tullie House again where I learned the origin of the word bereaved. There were these fierce bands of raiders, called reivers who, in the dark of night, would plunder and often murder their victims, ergo, to be their victim was to be-reived. They also kidnapped and demanded protection money. They were very bad, and caused much terror throughout the countryside.
And that was the end of the Cumbria Way and a last night in Carlisle.
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