GEORGE WILKINSON encounters mist, a lost city and the ghosts of Roman soldiers at Bardale Head.
BARDALE HEAD was gloomy, mist hung in the air, the fellsides were dull and blank and vanished into the cloud. I think a buzzard called. We wondered what we might be descending to, winding...
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Sunday, December 11, 2016
Country walk at Bardale Head
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