I had chosen this remote B&B because its location fitted my plans well, giving me a fairly short journey on the day I was passing the craggiest and most scenic parts of the trail. I don’t regret the choice at all, but the visit wasn’t all plain sailing. First, the proprietor Tris was very slow in responding to my request for confirmation of the booking – in the end he phoned me only 36 hours before I was due to arrive. Of course he was expecting me, no problem at all. As with everywhere I’ve stayed, he was genial and welcoming, and did everything he could to help. He couldn’t, though, do anything about the power failure at 7am on Thursday morning (probably thanks to the very strong winds). And because his place gets its water pumped up from a spring, no power means no water. Tris was very resourceful – he gave us big bottles of supermarket water for minimal ablutions, and somehow rustled up a very serviceable breakfast on a single camping stove.
To round off my ill-fated stay at Beggarbog, I then realized that I’d forgotten to get my trail passport stamped at Housesteads half a mile back. Unwilling to add another mile to Thursday’s 21-mile odyssey, I just skipped it and took a selfie at Beggarbog instead.
