It’s definitely going to be the Low Road ye’ll tak tae Scotland from the Pentonbridge Inn. Marked by meandering Liddel Water, just beyond the treeline a level mile away, lies the border. Once such a distinction wasn’t made around these parts. Welcome to the ‘Debatable Land’, 50 square mile no-go lair of the Reivers – raiders and cattle rustlers whose ferocity knew no bounds in either direction. 

That’s all history. Today’s polite post code says Cumbria and Pentonbridge’s restaurant boasts a Michelin star, but the upstairs corridor is lined with bedrooms named after local Reiver families. Our is Batteson. It might take a subscription to Find My Past to track down that particular clan. I content myself with dipping into The Debatable Land: The Lost World between England and Scotland by historian Graham Robb, better known for his dissections of French culture. His fresh travel aim is to understand how these border badlands resisted being either English or Scottish until the natives’ brutal decimation in the early 17th century. It’s a roaring tale.

Fellow Borders chronicler Rory Stewart described it as a “swelling into a seven mile bubble of exception: an air pocket between two borders. The Kings of England and Scotland had made living here a capital offence; their subjects  could kill on sight anyone found in the zone, without trial, as vermin.”

Beguiling what historical diversions sprang up on what was essentially a pilgrimage to explore the glorious cuisine that has earned chef Chris Archer the coveted star (above we chat to him after our amazing meal). En route we encountered beautiful oddities that prove Cumbria has far more to offer than just the Lake District…

Netherby Hall – a dashing hero and a fertile cornucopia

Of course, this has been territory much marched over in history. Hadrian’s Wall is under half an hour by car. Closer still, four miles away, is the rather grand Netherby Hall. Today’s mansion in manicured grounds is the product of centuries of rebuilding on the site of a Roman Fort. It incorporates a medieval peel tower, once the lair of the reiving Grahams, who in 1605 were dispossessed and transported to Ireland. Their descendants remained at Netherby until 2014 when they sold it to Gerald and Margo Smith, who spent millions converting part of the grade II listed property into upmarket self-catering. Before turning their attentions to the then run-down Inn.

Once upon a time the Hall’s greatest claim to fame was as a setting for Sir Walter Scott’s Lochinvar. In this ballad the eponymous hero rides out of the west to gatecrash a bridal feast and rescue his beloved Ellen from tying the knot with “a laggard in love and a dastard in war.”

Our arrival was more sedate, asking the estate manager if we could roam the lavishly restored Walled Garden that supplies veg, fruit and herbs to Chris and his Pentonbridge team. I’d recommend requesting a visit, too, if you are staying at the Inn; it really is an abundant wonder, kept in trim by four gardeners.

From Raymond Blanc’s Manoir to Mark Birchall’s Moor Hall kitchen gardens can be an essential part of the whole Michelin experience. Whisper it softly, Netherby’s is at least their equal. You reach it via a narrow iron gate in a red brick wall bordered with lavender. Inside apple and pear trees climb the walls and pergolas while more varieties of nasturtiums than I can credit share the beds with globe artichokes, cavolo nero and cabbages. Cultivated roses rub shoulders with banks of wild flowers in gorgeous disarray. Windfall fruit is scattered everywhere. Those Michelin essentials, micro herbs, are planted twice a week in the greenhouses.

Dinner at the Pentonbridge Inn exceeds expectations

And there they are, tweezed upon our plates across the eight-course tasting menu. Yet the green wisps are bit-part players in a show-stopping display of culinary skill and balance. What impresses about the whole menu is a deceptive restraint that unleashes intense flavours. All matched by a relaxed atmosphere behind the pass and in the dining room.

Chris is well-versed in more high-powered Michelin establishments. His CV includes Winteringham Fields (across the Humber from his East Yorkshire roots), Cambridge’s Midsummer House, the Yorke Arms, Nidderdale, under the inspirational Frances Atkins and Raymond Blanc’s Le Manoir. As head chef at The Cottage In The Woods near Keswick he appeared on Great British Menu. It gained its star after his departure (here’s my recent review), but surely he laid the foundations.

Canapés, snacks, amuse bouches, call ’em what you will, are often perfunctory. Not here. Mouthfuls of Limousin beef tartare mini-pie, beetroot macaroon and Montgomery cheddar biscuit each make a statement for the meal to live up to. It is Cumbria, so Japanese Chawanmushi, ubiquitous in starry establishments at the moment, is translated as Savoury Custard with Peas. Nothing is lost in translation.

Netherby nasturtiums take a bow in a bowl of mackerel chunks and tomatoes in their juices. Plated separately are dollops of caviar and spring onion in delicate pastry cups. 

After a palate-cleansing opener of Joseph Perrier Brut Royal NV we are drinking a Grüner Veltliner from Austria’s Kamptal region with its characteristic white pepper and stone fruit tang, It comes into its own with the next fish course – a tranche of North Sea halibut plus a peeled langoustine buddy in a frothy brown reduction.

In this neck of the Debatable Land you’d bet your Reiver’s ill-gotten gains on the main being lamb and so it proves. The most elaborate dish but that balance is always in evidence – sharing the plate with the roast spring beastie a leaf of Netherby kale, a blob of carrot puree, a smoked beetroot pillar, a wee haggis plus an exquisite square of slow-cooked lamb shoulder with its tousling of mushrooms. 

An accompanying Cool Coast Pinot Noir from Chilean stars Casa Silva doesn’t quite work for me – I am in a Cabernet Franc mood – but our final (pudding) wine does. Château Briatte – benchmark Sauternes, awash with pineapple and honey pairing beautifully with our pre-dessert of ‘Stuart Wright’s (I should have asked) Honey, Milk’… and the most refined of millefeuille pastries encasing Scottish raspberries and white chocolate. Petits fours follow, as accomplished as the amuse bouches.

The given wines (Grüner apart) have been part of our gratis press meal, but with the £130 eight course tasting menu the standard wine flight is £75 a head, a prestige version is £125. Assembled by sommelier Robert Patla, the wine list is a thing of beauty equal to the food offering. There’s also the cosseting embrace of velvet sofas in the bar (which is open to the public).

After the feast there are nine bedrooms to cosy up in, divided between the main original building and a converted barn that is connected to the hotel. Our Reiver-themed room above the restaurant had the advantage of a bath, and a cushioned seat on the window ledge to take in the views. These aren’t spectacular, yet rurally comforting like the tweed, wood and slate that are incorporated into the Inn’s decor. From the outside, standing at a crossroads you get no idea of the stylish, modern lay-out to come. Three of the barn rooms are dog-friendly, too – with bowl, bed and treats.

Breakfast is a comparatively simple affair, freshly cooked to order, the fry-up a greaseless treat. Good granola, great coffee.

Withnail and I Country – hippy days are here again

Carlisle and Penrith are the major Cumbrian urban centres that lie just off the M6. Go off the beaten track instead, as we did. En route north we diverted to the monthly Orton Farmer’s Market, but it seemed much diminished, perhaps because it’s in the shadow of the famous Tebay Services Farm Shop. Our target, though, was the other side of Shap – Bampton. Not to be confused with Brampton, east of Carlisle, which we visited later.

This beautiful area’s claim to fame is as a location for cult film classic Withail and I. It was the first starring role for the famously teetotal Richard E Grant, who played the eponymous drunken hero, a doomed late sixties actor. Since its low key premiere in 1987 it has spawned generations of fans. The most devoted attend an annual outdoor ‘Picnic Cinema’ screening at Sleddale Hall, aka ‘Crow Crag’, Uncle Monty’s dilapidated cottage in the movie.

We chose a quirkier memento – the red phone box in Bampton village where Withnail phoned his London agent. Inside it’s a mini-shrine with a visitors’ book, flowers and, appropriately, an empty Rioja bottle. Over the bridge is the Mardale Inn with its own Withnail connections. Back in 2009 its eccentric owner and fan of the movie Sebastian Hindley tried to buy Sleddale Hall, but it fell through. 

The hostelry itself was closed for several years until it was revived in 2022 as a terrific community pub. On our visit the local bell ringers were having lunch, taking advantage of an interesting menu and Good Beer Guide-listed ales. You can stay there too; it’s on the Coast to Coast Long Distance Path.

The pine cones of Wreay and the unique genius of Sarah Losh

A road trip is never complete without a visit to one of England’s special churches. Not always the grandest nor the oldest but with something to offer you won’t find anywhere else. Two, both Victorian, cropped up in Cumbria – the first St Mary’s of Wreay. It earns four stars in Simon Jenkins’ England’s Thousand Best Churches: “Unlike almost all the works in this book, Wreay appears to have been the creation of a single original mind … The Arts and Crafts Movement took half a century to catch up with her.”

You can pin it down as a revival of Lombard architecture  – the austere neo-Romanesque exterior would not look out of place in Northern Italy – but its creator Sarah Losh’s designs take it to another dimension. Self-taught as an architect, she paid for it out of her own pocket as a memorial to her sister Katherine. She also commissioned local craftsmen to provide the wealth of ornamental detail. Outside these include crocodile and snake carvings, inside you’ll find depictions of fossils, vines and dragonflies. But the dominating motif is the pine cone. You’ll find them everywhere.

It is a homage to a family friend, Major William Thain, who served at Waterloo and was killed in the Afghan Wars of 1842, the year in which the church was consecrated. He is said to have sent a pine cone to Sarah before he died. It is an ancient symbol of regeneration and a promise of rebirth.

Find out more background in the nearby chapel of rest, which now houses the Sarah Losh Heritage Centre.

A Pre-Raphaelite pelican rules the roost in St Martin’s Brampton

The Arts and Crafts Movement made it to Brampton (the one with the R) towards the end of the 19th century. The village’s patrons the Howard Family, Earls of Carlisle, offered its folk the choice of a tram service or a new place of worship. They went down the holy route and, unusually for the period, got a church that wasn’t in the Gothic style. 

It was the only church ever built by Philip Webb, an associate of William Morris and member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. That’s how he was able to commission Edward-Burne-Jones to design the stained glass. He made a powerful fist of it – reds, blues, pinks and purples glow vividly; leaves, flowers and animals densely pack the frames. There’s not much Nativity or Crucifixion in the scenes and angels and saints have been chosen because they share names with Howard family members. Look out for the fantastic pelican below the figure of Christ The Good Shepherd.

After all this phantasmagoria drive five miles south to Talkin Tarn to recover your breath. It’s a little glacial lake with watersports and a 1.3 mile circular path that is hardly taxing. Leave calf-stretching to the Lake District.

Long Meg and Her Daughters speak of ancient times

After such ecumenical sight-seeing it’s time to go all pagan in the Vale of Eden. The river of that name lives up to it. From Talkin take this glorious zig-zag pastoral route south. Stop off for a pint in one of its handsome villages such as Kirkoswald or Armathwaite. And don’t forget to pay your respects to Long Meg.

She and ‘her Daughters’ are a Neolithic stone circle near Little Salkeld. It is 350ft in diameter, the second biggest in the country. Long Meg is the tallest of the 69 stones, some 12ft feet high, with three mysterious symbols, its four corners facing the points of the compass and standing some 60ft outside the circle. It dates from around 1500 BC;  Long Meg is made of local red sandstone, while the daughters are granite boulders.

That’s the prosaic briefing. Local legend claims that Long Meg was a witch who with her daughters, was turned to stone for profaning the Sabbath, as they danced wildly on the moor. The circle is supposedly endowed with magic, so that it is impossible to count the same number of stones twice, but if you do then the magic is broken. Wordsworth wrote one of his less inspired poems about the spot.

Fact file

Pentonbridge Inn, Penton, Carlisle, Cumbria CA6 5QB. 01228 586636.

For further tourist information go to Visit Cumbria.

Many thanks to Jonathan Becker for the interior and exterior shots of the Pentonbridge Inn.