24 miles. My feet ache terribly however, thanks to the advice of the wonderful fififolle and a small souvenir shop in the Northumberland National Park, they are at least encased in Compseed Plasters. B. was initially deeply sceptical about these, but since one has remained glued to the ball of my foot all day today, he has come around.

No wall to be seen, though there were occasional earthworks, but once we had crossed the M6 and reached Carlisle (which B. keeps referring to as Cardiff), the walk was mostly dominated by the Solway Firth, including the little faux Roman hut at the end of the walk in which you could get the final stamp in your "passport".

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