Around Britain

I set out from the Station Hotel, Dumfries, just after 9 a.m. From the town centre I took the B725 heading south but soon left it on a minor road. This road demonstrated the status of Dumfries as an important local centre. I passed two hospitals, two colleges, a substantial care home, a Holiday Inn and the offices of the Crichton Estate all on this same road.

Once I was out of the town and into farmland, I saw a substantial hill on the far side of the Nith Valley. It must have been far away as its position hardly seemed to change for miles.

The first village of the day was Bankhead after 6 miles. There I rejoined the B725 which had followed a circuitous route alongside the Nith River and then Nith Estuary via Glencaple. An area to the south between this road and the Solway Firth had been acquired by the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust. This included the farms of Nether Locharwoods, Powhillon and Stanhope. According to a notice beside the road, the WWT controlled the shooting rights. Given the nature of the Trust, it would be surprising if these rights were exercised at all. I suppose it might take the form of a cull and it could raise useful funds for the Trust. Access to the Trust's land was restricted to a point at Brow Well near Stanhope Farm and the village of Ruthwell.

Brow Well was where Robbie Burns went in 1796 to drink the water in the hope of restoring his health. A notice there indicated that the water was not safe to drink. Unhappily this notice was placed too late to save Burns. He died within a month of visiting the well. There was a plaque at the site. The print on this was so small that I had to kneel down to read it but it was well worth the trouble. Burns clearly knew his time was limited. He'd met a friend nearby and said “Greetings Madam, do you have any commands for the other world?” He visited a local house. A woman there moved to draw the curtain as the sun was shining in the poet's face. Burns said “Let the sun shine upon us, my dear young lady, as he has little enough time to shine upon me.”

Near Brow Well there were a dozen cottages and an Inn. It didn't take many to support an Inn in those days. The Inn didn't have the Port wine favoured by the bard so he walked a mile to Clarencefield in search of it. The Inn there had the Port but Burns found that he had no money. He offered to pledge his watch-seal which was precious to him. The publican gave him a bottle of Port and took no coin or pledge. Burns's explanation of his lack of funds was “a muckle deil has been to my pouch.”

The village of Ruthwell was off the B725. The dwellings were mostly small bungalows and two of its inhabitants were mowing miniscule lawns next to the road. Both gave me a wave. Amazingly this modest place had its own museum – the Savings Bank Museum. A local man started a Savings Bank in 1810 and, apparently, this was a crucial step in the history of savings banks. Plaques had been placed on the wall of the museum, one by the Trustee Savings Bank. The older plaque commemorated in 1946 the centenary of the founder's death; the other, in 1974, commemorated the bi-centenary of the founder's birth.

I entered Annan by crossing the bridge over the River Annan. There were some impressive buildings in the town. One of these was my hotel but the kitchen was closed for maintenance that evening. One had a suspicion that its peak years had been many years ago. The only chains that thought a presence in the town was worthwhile were Subway and McColls.

Distance today 17.5 miles; 2469.3.

As I checked out of my hotel, I talked to the man on reception who had also cooked my breakfast. He was going to the Metal Bridge Inn, by the bridge over the River Esk, to cook lunch. It was on my route so I said I might call in.

Leaving Annan behind the dreaded moment came when the pavement ended and I was exposed to traffic on the open road. At Swordwell, an imposing house, I left the B721 and continued to Dornock on a minor road. There I rejoined the B721 and reached Eastriggs. The map showed that there was a track running to the north and parallel to the B721 from Lowthertown for a couple of miles. However, confronted by two notices in red 'Private Road' and 'No Access' I returned to the road not wanting trouble. As I left Eastriggs I saw the Devil's Porridge Museum. Only later did I discover what that meant.

In World War One a factory for the production of cordite was established in this area stretching 12 miles from Mossband (near Longtown) to Dornock/Eastriggs. There were four production sites and two purpose-built townships. The facility had its own transport network, power source and water supply. The factory produced 1,100 tons of cordite every week. Cordite is a military propellant. It replaced gunpowder as it is less explosive and did not destroy so many gun barrels. Over two thirds of the work force were women and they became known as the Gretna girls. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle described cordite as nitro-glycerine on one side and gun-cotton on the other, kneaded into a sort of devil's porridge.

At Rigg I escaped the B721 once more onto a minor road which took me to Old Graitney and then Gretna. The bridge over the River Sark, just beyond the eastern side of the town, marks the boundary between Scotland and England. A toll house on the Scottish side, now a cafe, claims to have conducted 10,000 marriages since 1830. In 1754 an Act of Parliament provided that, if the parent of a minor (then someone under 21) objected to their child's marriage, that would veto the match. That didn't apply in Scotland where boys over 14 and girls over 12 could marry with or without parental consent. In the 1770s a toll road was constructed passing through the village of Graitney . Gretna Green then became the first easily accessible village over the Scottish border. Scottish law allowed 'irregular marriages.' If a declaration was made before two witnesses, almost anybody had the authority to conduct the marriage ceremony. The blacksmiths of Gretna became known as 'anvil priests' and one of them, Richard Rennison, performed 5,147 ceremonies.

After Gretna I took a minor road which hugged the M6. I passed the Metal Bridge Inn after crossing the Esk but didn't stop. I don't find that I particularly need lunch on these walks. At Floristanrigg I left the M6 behind and had two encounters on my way to Rockcliffe. The first was with a man on a monocycle. He was perched high up on the single wheel. We exchanged greetings but he was not able to stop at all easily even if he'd been willing. It seemed such a struggle to maintain both balance and progress. Then I met a cyclist coming slowly up a hill. He'd almost come to a standstill when he stopped and asked me why I'd chosen to be on this particular road. I told him and then discovered that he was cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats. He'd also walked from Oban to Cape Wrath and climbed about 145 Munros. Last year he'd walked with his wife from his native Holland to Rome. It took them about 15 weeks, walking an average of 15 miles a day and camping out. I could only admire his energy and sense of adventure.

I crossed the bridge over the River Eden and entered Carlisle.

Distance today 20.55; total 2489.85