Corbridge discovered

Over on Mull the other day, while I was having a beer at the Mishnish with Andrew, he mentioned to me that Corbridge was one of England’s “well” towns. When pressed for an explanation of what this meant he explained to me that it was a small town to which were attracted people either retired or close to retirement who had above average disposable income and who subsequently became closely interested in all matters involving village affairs, presumably because of their investment in the area. They’ve invested their wealth and the remainder of their lives.

I can think of several places in Australia like this and so I was not surprised to find a tidy and well-ordered village on our arrival in Corbridge. When I say tidy and well-ordered I don’t wish you to infer excess regulation, but there seems a sense of pride among the population that they have produced a village which is a desirable place to live. Mind you, this observation is based on only 36 hours here but what we’ve found accords with Andrew’s comments in the Mishnish.

We had two main reasons for being here. The first is that Corbridge is where I was born, but I had never been back since my mother brought me here, as I dimly remember, from our home in the suburbs of nearby Newcastle-on-Tyne to show me my birthplace when I was about five or six. The second, to visit Hadrian’s Wall and associated structures.

“Dilston Hall” appears on my Birth Certificate. It is a more modern structure than its mediaeval neighbour, the ancient and ruined castle of the Duke of Northumberland. It still functions as a medical facility and we found it quite easily, on the outskirts of Corbridge but on the southern side of the Tyne River.

It was novel for me to be able to say “I was born in this town”, something I’ve never been able to say before. So I said it to several of the locals whom I subsequently met, most of whom couldn’t say the same.

Now for Hadrian’s Wall, which was constructed by the Romans during their occupation of Britain starting in the first century AD and finishing in the third or fourth. Its purpose: to fend off attacks by the barbarous tribes to the north, now Scotland. It generally succeeded as it spanned the width of Britain, running from what is now Newcastle-on-Tyne on the east coast to Carlisle on the west. Corbridge was a key location in this defence line, being the northern end of the main road from the (occupied) south.

Just a short stroll from the centre of present day Corbridge lies the partly excavated site of the main Roman base, a location well worth a visit. Incidentally, the base was huge and most of it still lies submerged in the surrounding fields on which sheep graze peacefully.

Hadrian’s Wall itself is still partly visible, but much has been buried under more recent construction activity. We drove west on a modern road along the general line of the wall, often able to see the ditch works and overgrown mounds associated with the stone wall itself on one side or the other. The wall formed the foundation of the road in many places. Scattered along the route were car parks which gave foot access to various wall features and in one of these wind-blasted parks we came across a coffee vendor. The best coffee for miles, he reckoned.

After visiting the nearby ruin of a temple to Mithras, built and used by Roman soldiers manning the wall, we returned to the car park and had a chat to the operator while drinking his very good coffee (£1.99). On his advice, dispensed freely, we then travelled seven miles further west to the car park at Steel Rigg, a place where the wall remains almost exactly as when it was first constructed.

By now drizzling rain, which had been threatening for some hours, had set in so we returned to our warm and cosy B&B, marvelling at how the Roman soldiers coped with the winter weather in this damp and bleak posting at the extreme edge of Roman influence.

We still had the evening -- our last in Corbridge. Mary was keen to eat at The Angel where we did some furtling to amuse ourselves while dinner was being prepared.

And afterward we had the wonderful opportunity to meet and have a drink or two with some Hexham locals at the Dyvels (Devils) pub on the south side of the Tyne, just over the large stone, single carriageway bridge. Thanks, Jane, Ed, and Emma and all of the Hexham Morris Dancers who flooded into the pub after completion of practice last night.

Corbridge is a very fine place to visit.

Off to York this morning, Tuesday 20 Sep.