We took a short walk along the wall up to the next milecastle. This is one of the few bits of wall that you can actually walk on, and it's a lovely feeling, peering down over what is a sheer cliff face below. If you choose one fort to visit, this is a good one. If nothing else, the views are spectacular.

We went on from here to Birdoswald, by which time it was mid-afternoon, and I was beginning to get concerned that we wouldn't make it back in time to meet the man from the car rental agency at 4 o' clock. On the way there we spotted a stray horse wandering about  in the lane. A bit like that Mr. Man book with the sheep loose in the lane - Mr. Forgetful or something, I don't remember. Michael stopped at the next farm to report it, in case it was theirs. Driving away, he told me that a few years before his car had been written off in a collision with a deer. Apparently he got to keep the deer afterwards. Since then he says he aims for any animal he can legally claim - like pheasants. These are incredibly stupid animals anyway, and have been known to fly directly at cars, so I can see his point. I'd been noticing his driving from the start. He would hurtle along the undulating and winding Northumbrian roads at about 60 mph, all this in a Ford Galaxy people carrier, which is no mean feat. I feel sorry for the deer up there -  and the pheasants.

Tracing the wall along, we reached Birdoswald, a place I've never visited before - we didn't reach here on the 1993 trip. And I have to admit that I didn't take much in. It was another fort. A detailed description, I know, but there you go. It also constituted the furthest west I have ever been on Hadrian's Wall. located as it is across the border in Cumbria. It has to be said that there isn't a great deal to see here really. The wall is quite visible around about, but the fort itself is quite limited. Chesters or Housesteads would be a much better place to visit.

Shooting along the narrow roads, jumping from hill to hill, practically, we reached Fourstones just a little late and luckily Mrs. Ellsworth had kept the man from the car hire agency amused. He drove me into Hexham as planned, to the rental office. There he explained that they'd just moved in to this office and had yet to get their computers or anything else much. They did have a mineral water dispenser though, he said proudly, and offered me a cup. Too much time on their hands, obviously. Presented with a choice between a Punto and a Corsa, I opted for the slightly smaller Corsa. I've never really liked the look of the Punto, and it didn't help when someone once told me that it means 'small penis' in Spanish.

Nosing the car out of the car park, I suddenly realised that, not having driven for two years, I was a little out of practise, and very nervous. My left leg, and my right leg, come to that, started shaking visibly. This did not help my clutch control, as you can imagine. A kind of 'clutch foot' you might call it. Only a mental slap in the face got my nerves in order, and I started to enjoy the feeling of driving again, despite the fact that I only had a vague idea of how to get back to Fourstones.

I did get back, and later on went for a drive around the area to get my bearings, and do a little independent exploration. I stopped to take pictures of a beautiful lake, but unfortunately never got to see them because of the saga of the empty camera, which I shall relate later. Pulling away fast along the road in a burst of overconfidence, I found myself approaching a bend in the road, which looked severe, far too quickly. In panic I pressed on the brake, but because it was a harsh brake that I was not yet used to, I came to a dramatic, screeching, skidding stop, which did leave rubber on the road. Eat your heart out The Professionals! Returning to Fourstones, I was invited to a delicious roast dinner, to which I contributed a bottle of wine, guilty over accepting so much free hospitality.

Leaving early in my car with the newly balded tyres, I made my way to Edinburgh as planned. I decided