The Stubborn Stone Wall (and the Slightly More Stubborn Human)Spoiler: the wall wins.

9th May 2025

One of the joys of staying at Thisledo Holiday Cottage is the abundance of footpaths that criss-cross the countryside like a patchwork of green adventure. Armed with a map, a flapjack, and a frankly misplaced sense of direction, I set off to explore “a nice easy loop” as described by the man in the outdoor shop who had very kind eyes but a cruel streak.

It all started well. Birds chirping. Sunshine dappling through leaves. One sheep gave me the side-eye, but I’d just come off the high of spotting #EpicEric last week, so I let it slide.

Then I met it.

The wall.

Not just any wall. Oh no. This was a Yorkshire dry stone wall, built sometime in the late Jurassic period (probably), and maintained by a proud local who uses pure stubbornness and the occasional hard stare to keep it standing.

The stile was… shall we say… “unwelcoming.” A sort of half-step, half-limp piece of wood wedged into the wall at an angle that defied both gravity and knees.

I approached with optimism.

Big mistake.

First attempt: foot on the bottom stone, knee in the air like I was auditioning for Riverdance, and — nope. Slipped straight back down with all the grace of a startled goose.

Second attempt: backpack off, motivational speech whispered to self, tried to swing a leg over. Got halfway before realising I was stuck in the “undignified wobble” position, unable to go forward or back. Somewhere in the distance, a sheep laughed. Probably Eric.

Eventually — using a manoeuvre that would have shamed a gymnast and definitely impressed the nearby cows — I tumbled over the wall and landed face-first in a patch of heather. Triumphant. Bruised. Smelling faintly of wet moss.

As I lay there, trying to work out if I’d strained something important, I heard footsteps.

Two elderly walkers appeared, positively bounding along the path. The first, a sprightly lady in a bobble hat, took one glance at the wall and said, “Oh, this one’s a bit of a bugger, isn’t it?”

Then — with the grace of a mountain goat and the flexibility of a yoga instructor — she was over it and on her way.

I blinked. Still horizontal. Mildly betrayed by my own knees.

Eventually, I limped back to Thisledo Holiday Cottage, where the sofa was soft, the tea was hot, and the only walls were vertical and came with doors.

So, what did I learn?

1. Yorkshire stone walls are not to be underestimated.
2. Never trust a loop described as “easy” by someone wearing hiking sandals in February.
3. Always pack biscuits for morale.

And most importantly…

In the battle of human vs. centuries-old wall, the wall always wins.