Nestled amongst County Durham’s moors and Pennine peaks lies England’s mightiest waterfall. The
waters of High Force tumble over 22
metres and 300 million years of stone, down into the plunge pool below. The falls were formed where
the river Tees meets the Great Whin Sill, a
tough slab of igneous rock covering much of the north of England.
When the water level is high enough, the force splits into two streams, one going the other way
around the rocks — after storms, it can even overflow the plateau entirely. Alas, despite recent
showers, my group were not so lucky.
The Raby family, owners of the estate, charge £2 to see the view from the base of the falls. The
falls tower over any mere human who dares navigate down, demanding one’s respect and attention… and
making it unmissable that, at the top of the falls, there are several people who walked their on
their own via the
Pennine Way, not having to
pay a single dime. Drat.
Information for visitors
Address:
High Force, Forest-in-Teesdale, Barnard Castle, County Durham,
DL12 0XH.
Getting there: Public transit connections are few and far between this far into
the countryside, so your best bet is to take a scenic drive via car through the Pennines and the
nineteenth-century village of Middleton-in-Teesdale.
Price: The Raby estate charges £2 to access via the bottom, but the top can be
freely accessed by a hike along the Pennine Way.
Opening times: 10:00–16:00.
Accessibility and facilities: The trail is not, to my knowledge,
wheelchair-accessible. The site contains toilets and a hotel for anyone wanting to stay the
night.
The gorgeous gorge that is the Tyne valley has no shortage of winsome views, but the most beautiful,
in my opinion, is that which appears to one who goes down the Side.α In the
Monument’s shadow, after passing the classical columns of the Theatre Royal and descending Grey
Street as it becomes Dean Street, finally taking a turn onto the Side at the bottom, the lucky
traveller will find themself towered over by the behemoth that is the Tyne Bridge:
The rotting wooden stairs, as seen on Google street view.
I’m not sure any photograph can ever match what it’s like to be there under that bridge. One of the
most remarkable things about this view, though, has nothing to do with the view itself, but rather
what happens if one walks down the Quayside for a little while, reaches an empty brownfield plot,
and clambers up a set of rotting wooden stairs to its right. Because, inexplicably, just a few
metres from the most beautiful view in town, one can find the second most beautiful view in
town, a glorious lookout on every bridge linking the two banks of the river.
We don’t deserve this city.
I had initially neglected to bring a water bottle along with me; i had only intended a quick jaunt
to the centre of town and back, and the foolhardy idea of walking all the way to Wallsend came to me
spontaneously. This quickly proved a bad idea, and so i made a trek up to the corner shop, who
thankfully had all the bottled water anyone could ever want or need.
After leaving fully rehydrated and ready to walk back, i noticed the most wonderful little thing. A
parklet, this small opening of green space with some benches and inscriptions, tucked between a
housing area and a construction site. I took some pictures — i would have loved to show them to you,
but alas, my phone got stolen in the intervening time between this trip and me writing this post,
taking the photographs with it.
Nevertheless, if you’d like to visit (or live vicariously through Google street view), it’s that
little park adjacent to 5 Belmont Street. (Google stubbornly refuses to give a proper address, but
you can’t miss it!)
An account of my thought process upon seeing the above building complex:
That building looks exceedingly evil, but i can’t quite place my finger on why…
Just a few yards ahead, crossing a foot-and-cycle bridge, i happened upon some strikingly relevant
graffiti, alongside some other pieces which really sum up the modern English psyche: an Extinction
Rebellion poster, a crossed out “EDL”,β and a cock and
bollocks.
I carried a record from HMV (the Killers’ Hot Fuss, if you must
know) the whole way, and let me tell you, my arms were positively aching by the end of it! At least
i had a bag…γ
To sign off, here are some photos whose stories weren’t interesting enough to make the cut, as well
as a map of the journey. Thank you for reading this disjoint mess.
Top left to bottom: A picture looking downwards from shortly after the second best view; a nice
view of the AkzoNobel factory on the opposite bank of the river; some tower; and the literal
wall’s end of Wallsend.
I don't know how
somepeople do it,
posting almost every day. I suppose my life just isn’t interesting enough for this sort of thing!
Anyway. I was going to write up a full post about a recent jaunt to
Lady Waterford Hall, but my memory
is awful and i’m not sure that it would be very interesting. Instead, here are some photos
from the trip:
Pointing towards the gift shop.
“The Student”. This photo’s a bit more potato-y than the rest, because it was behind a glossy
frame…
(If you’d like to visit, admission is free with a suggested donation of £3, and the place is
wheelchair-accessible.)
