Day 9: Saturday 11th July 2015

Saturday.

And already, our days in the heather-thatched cottage are coming to an end, as we leave here in two days. Oh dearie dearie me.

But before then, a major problem, in that we are running out of clean clothes. With our dongle-provided mega-slow internet connection, I find a post code of a laundrette in Hexham. With bags of rancid washing, we climb into the car and drive to the bright lights of Hexham.

The laundrette, or laundry, will do our clothes, and do them in three hours, so disaster averted. Waitrose opened at eight, so we stocked up on beer/cider and also got croissants for breakfast. So, despite being at the northern extreme of the empire, we could have a French style breakfast.

Outside, all was grey and gloomy; a light drizzle fell, so after discovering the car radio could pick up DAB radio, we tried the radio we brought inside, and with the radio in the one place in the living room that could pick up a signal, we sat listening to Danny Baker and his milk bottle-inspired stories.

As you do.

I look at some leaflets, and recall listening to a funny radio show by Mark Steel about Barnard’s Castle. The Bowes Museum looks like a French Chateu, has paintings and stuff. Which is why in ten minutes, we have loaded up the car and are heading to County Durham, again.

Up through Hexham, pausing to collect our freshly laundered washing, then up along narrow wall-lined lanes, up in the to foothills. Oddly, it all looked familiar, then it clicked: this was the road we travelled when we came up for a wedding on an old RAF friend of mine.

Anyway, past the Traveller’s Rest pub, and along roads that went up and down like a roller coaster, until the rad began to climb up and up. And just kept going. Soon we were ount on the moors, travelling along a road lined with wooden posts, used to find it when the snow fell. It was wonderfully bleak stuff.

The light was sensational, illuminating the rolling hills, covered with heather; glowing purple in the sunlight.

The road then started to descend, then drop like a stone into the town of Stanhope. We crossed the river, then the road reared up like a bucking bronko once again, in triple hairpin bends. Then we were crossing moors again, sunlight playing on the rolling moors. The fields were unfenced, so as well as the ducking and diving road, there were the silly sheep to contend with, who were prone to just wandering across the road.

A lone descent once again this time towards Barnard’s Castle, into a fine market town, the high street lined with interesting shops, and at the far end, a round building, around which a roundabout had been built. As you do.

We turned left to the Bowes Museum, and although we knew it was built to look like a French Chateau, to see it there, in the wilds of County Durham, is quite extraordinary.

We were able to par on the wide driveway, walk across the ornamental garden, thus ruining peoples shots, and up the steps leading to the terrace and entrance. The museum has just opened an exhibition of the French designer Yves Saint Laurent, is that how you spell it? Anyway, fashionistas of all ages were there, and us looking like two parcels of scruff. We paid for the ordinary entrance with out the YSL ticket.

We go for lunch, with it being near two, and order a snack: fish chowder for me, and rarebit for Jools, which did look very nice. But then I did just order and eat fish, other than fried, for the second time this trip.

Up the grand staircase to the top floor to look at the art galleries, with wonderful renaissance art from all over Europe. Wonderful stuff, and well worth the entrance feel of nine English pounds. Sadly, the swan automaton was being serviced, so we did not see that, just a film of it. But still wonderful.

Back outside, we walk to the town for a wander and for me to take shots. I am thirsty so we go to a tea rooms and i have a scone and a pot of tea. All very civilised. We walk up and down the main street, I buy a couple of books i have been hunting from a fine 2nd hand shop, then it is time to walk back to the car for the drive back.

Jools drives so I can take shots, as the road is so wonderful, and I mention how much our friend Tony in NZ would love to use GSV to travel along this road whilst on his long night shifts at work. And how thrilled he would be that we were talking about him. Tony, you must come over. Or we come over there.

Back along the same way, pausing to look at the old ford in Stanhope, before the final climb back over the moors to Hexham and then onto the cottage. Not bad for half a day.