Our Carlisle to Newcastle walk immortalised in silver talisman rings

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What to expect when blazing a new trail right across the North, and how we told the tale in film, silver and 35mm photography

[This story is the next in the Trails series. Slow Ways invited people to apply to assemble a group of friends and walk a multi-day trail of routes. They could submit the story of their adventure in whatever form they liked. Read on for Polly, Emerald and Gemma’s six-day bog soup story, written by Emerald Brampton-Greene.]

“You must be walking Hadrian’s Wall?” ask the locals we meet. “Er, not exactly…” I reply with a grin. It’s a good guess as we’re only a few kilometres from the iconic national trail. Instead our team of three are taking the road less travelled. An A-to-B, city-to-city adventure, ’trailblazing’ from Carlisle to Newcastle using footpaths, trails and roads to audit the as yet unwalked route for the Slow Ways network.

The aim is to root walking as a form of transport in the collective imagination. It’s fun to have this conversation with strangers. Reactions tend towards either curiosity or confusion. I get it. It’s my first Slow Ways and I’m puzzled about what lies ahead.

Our cross-country route runs from west to east and connects a string of villages and towns including Brampton, Haltwhistle, Hexham, Corbridge and Prudhoe. Slow Ways allocates each section a name using the first three letters of the two settlements walked between (e.g. Carlisle to Brampton = Carbra). Carbra, brahal, halhex, hexcor, corpru and blannew; I enjoy this place name mashup that sounds like an incantation. Our path weaves along the Tyne Valley, crossing and recrossing the river, the railway and A-roads. 

The trail that Polly. Emerald and Gemma took from Carlisle to Newcastle, eight Slow Ways long. See the live Waylist here

Setting off from sleepy Carlisle — the city nursing a hangover from the Euros final the night before — we pass from urban to suburban to rural. It’s the height of summer and everything is overgrown. Time to get a forage on. Our pace dwindles as we pause to stash meadowsweet and linden tree blossoms in our bags for brewing later. Tuning into the landscape and catching up on each other’s stories from the past few months, we fall into an easy rhythm. 

We are known as The Boglins

‘No path, no problem’ becomes our mantra on day two. Walking from Brampton to Haltwhistle we pitstop at a brilliant community cafe in Hallbankgate. A local advises us against walking the busy A3689 so we improvise and follow a footpath along an old trainline. Although it’s clearly marked on the map, it’s a different story on the ground. We end up in marsh grass that is chest height. Bushwhacking isn’t ideal – still, I welcome the reminder of how quickly nature takes over given half a chance. The route climbs up to reach the western end of the fells, where awesome views across the Pennines open up. My eye is drawn to a pine plantation on the horizon, with a deep V cutting a corridor straight through the middle. As we head for this striking landmark the conditions underfoot turn from mud to bog soup. For the next few kilometres I am wading rather than walking. Now we are known as The Boglins. We eventually tumble into Haltwhistle mud-splattered, knackered and wearing sandwich bags on our feet.

“Three women walking!” a farmer exclaims as we emerge from the bushes at the end of her garden

The sun shines down as we move between farmland, woodland and riverside on days three and four. These rural routes feel a bit like time travel. The paths are quiet and there’s long stretches where we don’t see a soul. I get caught up imagining the people who formed these paths over the centuries. “Three women walking!” a farmer exclaims as we emerge from the bushes at the end of her garden. It’s not just humans that are surprised to see us. Making our way through dense vegetation in Gees Wood we walk into a huge flock of partridges. We tread quickly and lightly, the feeling that this is their place and we’re just passing through. A similar sense arises when we startle a Roe deer on the path ahead. 

A hidden gem is discovered between Corbridge and Prudhoe. Dilston Physic Garden is a two-acre garden, devoted to educating on medicinal plants for health and mental wellbeing. It’s a beautiful, rambling site — an array of scents, colours and textures. I slip off my sweaty walking boots and pad around barefoot. To my delight the labels offer herbal, medicine and folklore descriptions. I spot plants that we’ve seen growing wild this week, like yarrow, and am excited to learn that ‘witches are said to fly by wearing a sprig of yarrow in their cap.’

The world speeds up again

On reaching Prudhoe we realise that we’re running out of time to make it to Newcastle, so we jump on the train. The world speeds up again. I feel giddy. The joy of arriving into our destination city is amplified by the fact that we have (almost) walked here using our all-terrain vehicles, our feet. Time for a pint. We dump the bags and head to the river to join the crowds who are soaking up the evening sun. The next morning we hit the streets with thousands of others for Newcastle Pride. Music, dance, parade, celebration. It’s electric.

A talisman ring

Back in Bristol we sit around Polly’s kitchen table and I watch carefully as she demonstrates how to carve into the wax using sculpting tools. It’s tricky at first and then satisfying when you’ve got the knack. The finished pieces will be sent off to be cast in silver. 

It’s a meditative process and I let my thoughts unfurl in the mind as I carve freehand. I’m thinking about wayfinding, navigating your thirties and managing a chronic health condition. I settle on the obvious but satisfying four points of a compass.

For sure my ring becomes something of a talisman. A reminder of bogs conquered. Also, the tenderness of old friends’ company, curiosity for the places in between and the benefits of deceleration. 

Polly Collins is a silversmith based out of Centrespace Studios in Bristol. In future she plans to hold workshops that explore journeying, ceremony and ring-making. To register your interest you can email her. For more of her work click here.

Gemma Luxton is an illustrator and print designer based in Bristol.

Emerald is a long-distance walker from Dartmoor.

Fergus Coyle kindly photographed our rings. He is a Bristol-based photographer and adventurer.