Uncle Hadrian

We're sitting around a fire in an idyllic and wonderfully clean camp site in the hills of Northumberland.

It's been quite an extraordinary day. We set off at 9am and drove north up the A1 through all sorts of weird weather. We stopped for tea in a transport cafe in Rutland and had our lunch at Quernhow in North Yorkshire. Sadly, the cafe owner was incredibly low on food, so after we'd ascertained a whole load of things that he didn't have, we settled on a plate of egg, beans and chips whilst the rain lashed down outside.

We reached the campsite at 3pm and in the absence of any of the others, immediately headed off to Hadrian's Wall. 

Finding Hadrian's Wall was a childhood ambition of mine. I've tried on several occasions in the past but the quest has always proved fruitless. I even tried to find it in December when we were shooting 100 Faces. It's always eluded me. We've run out of time or not been able to find a nice bit of it...

As we drove through the country lanes, searching for the wall, we suddenly became aware of something which looked a little like a rather solid dry stone wall snaking its way along the crest of a craggy hill. And there it was! 

We parked up and rushed through a field towards the wall, and marvelled at the way that it ebbed and flowed like a giant roller coaster over the hilltops. 

We followed the wall by foot for a few miles, staggering up the steeper slopes and tripping our way back down again. We were searching for the romantically titled "Sycamore Gap" where a beautiful and ancient tree grows in a dell. Set against the wall it looks quite magical; so magical, in fact, that it was used as a location in Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. 

We sat there for some time eating fruit as the clouds drifted over head. Sometimes the clouds were brown and bruised, other times they were almost black, but all the time a bright sun shone down on us. It was all so dramatic and wonderful.

As we walked back to the car, the rain, which had been promising to arrive for thirty minutes, started to fall. And there in the sky, hovering like some kind of mystical tiara; a glorious rainbow... Then a double rainbow... I stood on the wall, photographing the view and it actually made me weep. I didn't care that I was getting soaking wet. 

We returned to the campsite and met up with the others for a glorious al fresco dinner and an hysterical impromptu play about the Underworld by my godson, Will, and Tanya's lad, Tomas, which featured an even more hysterical pitch invasion by their sisters doing Scottish reels! 

Perfect. Perfect.