Through the North Pennines - ghastly, then glorious

From Earby, Pat and Dave kept me company through a few days of damp, chilly weather up through the Yorkshire Dales - Fountains Fell in the fog, the Cam Road to Hawes with a cold north-easterly wind against us. Still enjoyable, great for the appetite, and good to have friends to set the pace in such conditions. Some interesting conversations too - notably with Fred from Leeds on his way to John O'Groats.
Maggie's return on Thursday came just as the weather lifted and we all enjoyed some fine views from Great Shunner Fell. That night, I was with Dave at the Tan Hill Inn, England's highest pub and a wonderful quirky place - lambs in the bar, a wolfhound that howls for breakfast, threat of a 'fine' if you use your mobile.
On Saturday, Dave headed off to organise a fell race and I had a long walk in glorious weather across the moors to Middleton-in-Teasdale, best ever day for lapwings and curlews. Camped in a slummy corner of an overcrowded campsite. I woke as forecast to a soaking wet Sunday but got the the warmest of welcomes from the small congregation at the village church. Then it was time for heads down, packed up a wet tent and along the lovely banks of the Tees to Langdon Beck - a real wet day, but a great hostel to dry my gear and exchange stories with a few other walkers. Monday - the upper Tees and the wonderful view from High Cup Nick out across Westmorland. We arrived at Dufton, gasping for a brew, and, by amazing good fortune, Annette was just arriving at her cottage there and we enjoyed tea in her garden.
The last couple of days have been great. Patrick arrived to meet me for his first ever 'hill trip' - he said he wanted to 'do bleak'. He arrived on Dufton village green, courtesy of a lift from Philip, who was joining us for the day - veteran and a first timer! We enjoyed the perfect walking weather just the best views as we climbed towards Cross Fell - west to the green valley of Eden and the lakes, east to the dark moors of the Pennines. We were staying at Greg's Hut, built for the lead miners and high on the hill. It turned into a classic 'bothy night' - tea outside, a stroll to see the sun setting over the Solway Firth, new company - Thys from Amsterdam met first at the Tan Hill Inn, Kirsty and Colin from Atherton - a warm stove, whisky, warm company in a lonely place. Next day, breakfast in the sun, down the track to Garrigill, pleasant walking along the Tyne and some beer together at the Cumberland Inn, where Patrick and I are staying - the Greg's Hut reunion, watching a game of quoits in the pub garden. A great trip - and, despite the bothy mouse and the threatening bulls, Patrick says he'd do it again!
Today, I'll reach Hadrian's Wall and Scotland's not far away!