Ludow - a tweed adventure

Ludlow - a tweed adventure

The Cotswold way

I am very belatedly catching up on our adventures in October - I really don't know how the time has disappeared! I promise to be more diligent.  

Early in October our friend Jess was coming to stay. Having said she didn't like London from her previous visits - and that she'd never in fact been outside of London into England, we decided that rather than exploring London her first weekend with us, we would go for a driving adventure in the English countryside instead.

The Water in Bourton on the Water

 We picked up a car in Kings Cross, piled Jess and our friend Kate into the backseats, connected the SatNav and headed off to Ludlow - claiming to be one of the most perfect towns in England.  Like all good adventures involving members of the Berry family - the route was decided based on going through the towns along our route with the most amusing names. Even the destination was chosen because it is in Shropshire - which is fun to say - and also the shire in which Bunbury lives for those Importance of Being Ernest fans. 

The pub by the water - for lunch

Lunchtime found us in 'Bourton on the Water' - which was not to be confused with the nearby 'Bourton on the Hill'. Bourton on the Water is an lovely example of a Cotswold town - with tiny lanes that could barely fit a single car through, yellow stone buildings and achingly pretty little pubs by 'the water' from which the town got its name. 

We parked out on the edge of the town in the huge carpark created for the town's tourists - complete with the 'conveniences' - which we learned were actually the public toilets. Jess has apparently had some run ins with the automated public toilets favoured around Europe - but this took the cake. Once we paid our 30p to get through the turnstiles into the toilets, we basically didn't need to touch anything to make it go once inside. This wasn't really a luxury - as once the automated systems were started they couldn't be interrupted until the cycle was complete. This left us unable to work out how to get the 'all in one' sink, soap-dispenser and hand dryer to stop drying our hands before it had washed them. Not sure this was as convenient as the engineers had hoped. 

Berry on the Water in Bourton on the Water (and Tony)

Clipboard in the Water

Once we escaped the automatic conveniences we walked in along the water into town - over many little bridges that criss-crossed the stream. Tony and Jess went to pose on one - and discovered a clipboard that had sadly fallen in. The stream is not very deep - but the bridges are just high enough to make it too far to reach your arm down to pick up things that have fallen in. We saw this phenomenon in action during lunch. A girl of 4 or so and her father were walking across the bridge near us - when her teddy jumped from her grip into the water below. The girl was very distressed, and her father dutifully tried to rescue Teddy. We were comfortably seated across the water with an excellent view of the poor father's attempts to reach Teddy before the current got him and took him downstream. Sticks were found with which to try to get Teddy within reach of the shore. Even once he was against the wall of the stream, there was not quite enough room for the father to reach down to grab him - there was a man seated right in the way (who had really long arms) but who did not offer to move or to help. Finally, with the father lying on his belly, and his daughter looking like she was about to jump into the water to rescue Teddy, he managed to get a grip on the sopping toy and haul it and himself out of harms way - to the raucous applause of us and everyone else at the pub. Sadly we were too amused by the scene unfolding to take any photos. 

Ludlow at dusk 

From Bourton on the Water we headed through Stow on the Wold, Bourton on the Hill, through the beautiful countryside towards Ludlow - where we arrived just on dusk. We had booked into a B&B at an old mill - called 'The Mill House' just on the outskirts of Ludlow and a nice walk from the centre of town. The stream that once turned the mill wheel ran right under the house and you could hear it trickling away - giving the whole house a very calm feel. The B&B was beautifully finished - our room was lovely and large (the girls' one was smaller - but their bathroom was larger than the room itself!), with views out over the cottage style garden.

The Feathers Hotel

We had booked in for dinner at the Feathers Hotel. which apart from being a beautiful example of Jacobean architecture, is apparently one of the most haunted places in England. Unfortunately we saw no ghosts during our dinner - although the restaurant was a little bit of a ghost town. Several functions in the upstairs rooms meant that the guests from the hotel who would normally have filled the restaurant and given it some atmosphere, were all absent. We did have a delicious meal with very attentive staff - who did an excellent job of avoiding the various challenges posed by Jess and my allergies.

Castle Ruins

The next morning saw us up early by our standard (9am) for a cooked breakfast in the B&B's charming breakfast room. All locally sourced ingredients were cooked to order - and a selection of 6 different homemade jams left us very happy and full and ready to explore the main attraction of Ludlow - the castle!

View from the ramparts

Ludlow castle perches above the fast running river Teme, which would have provided an additional layer of defence to this fortress. The castle left you in no doubt that castle life was not romantic.The small buildings were dark and dank (not just because they were in ruins - I'm confident they wouldn't have been much nicer in their hayday), and the big rooms would have been cold and draughty.

We had a wonderful time climbing all over the different parts of the castle, which had been added to over the 500 years until it was finally abandoned in 1689. The style of buildings varied from the very first fortress defences of the Normans, further fortified when it became a royal palace and was part of the defences to keep back the Welsh rabble threatening the peace from just over the marsh lands.

Views across the courtyard

Enough of the stairs inside the towers remained to allow us to climb up to the very top of the ramparts and peer down at the advancing army of Sunday tourists, and at the river far below.

King and Queen of the castle

Once safely down we partook in Castle tea and scones (with clotted cream), pottered around the market in the Ludlow square (I picked up a beautiful garnet necklace and tony found a tartan hip flask for £4!)  and got on the road back to London.

Lochs and Highland drives

Lochs and Highland drives

Finally catching up on the rest of the Northern trip after the silly season. 

Tony on the banks of Loch Lomond

We started our morning with excellent breakfast in the dinning room of Cadross estate listening to an over enthusiastic rooster. From there we wound our way down to the edge of Loch Lomand to admire its bonny banks before setting off to the proper north of Inverness. 

View down Loch Lomond

We both heartily agree that the highlight of our trip was the drive we did through the  Trossachs national park, past the looming peaks of Ben More, Ben Lui and Ben Starav - a mountain range called the Grampian Mountains. The scenery really was breathtakingly beautiful. The stark contrast between the green of the pines (plantation) and the brown and red of the hills was stunning, but then you added the snow. The winding mountain roads would take you past a mighty peak, when suddenly a snowy peak would appear around the side, and grow until it took over the whole of the horizon. 

First peak at the peaks

Most spectacular were the sharp edges of the mountains, reflected in the clear mountain lakes. Several people had pulled off on the edge of the road, right in the way of narrow 2 lane traffic, to capture the images - I did my best whilst the car was moving. 

Perfectly still lakes

We came through the mountain pass to a little village on the shores of Loch Leven. We pulled in for a break and bought some chips from a lovely lady in a roadside caravan (£1.50 for a serve of hot chips). The village is a holiday spot during the summer, however it gets very quiet during the winter and she described watching the sun creep further and further down the valley as the year progressed until it no longer reached her little food caravan. From that day she knew that the whole southern side of the valley and the loch wouldn’t see sun again until the start of the next summer. Her solution was to go to Egypt for a holiday. I’m not sure that would be enough for me to work/live in a place that didn’t see a spot of sunshine for half of each year.

Steep valleys and bleak houses

We continued through the mountains to Fort WIlliam which whilst not very pretty, was a strategically very important town. It was the point at which boats from the lower Lochs could enter Loch Ness and travel all the way to Inverness in the north. It is also the point from which many of the ferries to the Hebrides and other islands depart. 

Locks at Loch Ness

Loch gates

From Fort William we travelled up Loch Lochy to Fort Augustus where we searched for a place for lunch. We had by this time developed a lunch curse on our trip. Whenever we thought it was about time to find a place for lunch, all possible choices would evaporate from the map, and we would be left with dodgy roadside options of pies, horrid sandwiches or in a couple of cases nothing at all but a few packets of crisps. Partly this was due to the time of year - all the good pubs serving lunch were closed for the winter - or only open on Fridays and the weekends. Fort Augustus was no exception and we ended up getting take away rolls with sausages or battered chicken in them. We ate them standing by the locks that got boats from Loch Lochy to Loch Ness. This was the only good thing about the lunch as we busily distracted ourselves from the disgusting lunch by trying to work out how the system of gates and pumps in the lock worked.

We followed Loch Ness up its entire length - arriving at its second most famous feature - Castle Urquhart only 40 minutes before it closed. The site is set up for thousands of tourists to pass through and has a movie theatre showing a video on the history of the castle which you are supposed to watch before you head down to the ruin itself. We were so late in the day that they allowed us to skip the video and head straight to the site. We were lucky in a way, we had the site almost to ourselves in the gathering dusk (with the exception of about 5 other tourists) and the attendant who was supposed to be locking up ended up following us around much of the site giving us a personal tour and history lesson. Urquhart  was another castle eventually dismantled (blown up) so it couldn’t be used by the other side once it was surrendered.  A controlling point for most of Loch Ness at a time when there were no roads from one end to the other it was an extremely important strategic base and was claimed by one side or another until its destruction in 1692. One really interesting feature was the water gate where most of the access to the castle was gained including all supplies of food. The road along the Loch wasn’t built until 100 years after the castle was destroyed. 

Castle Urquhart

We finished our drive on the Black Isle just West of Inverness in a lovely B&B run by Minty and Gavin. They had booked us into their local pub in the tiny village of North Kessock for dinner, and after Tony had sampled the haggis and I had fabulously fresh fish (Scotland really does excellent seafood), we pootled back to Minty’s house, and curled up in our  separate little beds (we had forgotten to check that there was a double available - but it ended up being quite quaint and 1950s’ ish with hot water bottles that Minty had thoughtfully put in our beds while we were at dinner). 

Birthdays, Castles, Peaks and Old Houses

Birthdays, Castles, Peaks and Old Houses

Birthday wellies on Arthur's Seat

Finally posting the next few days of our trip.

The following morning the weather was clear and provided as good and opportunity as we were going to get for tackling Arthur’s Seat, which was supposed to afford the puffing climber the best possible view of Edinburgh. It was also my birthday, and given on of my much hinted (read ‘directed’) birthday presents was a pair of gumboots, I was quite happy to attempt the peak once decked out in my new stripy wellies. 

The view from the top was lovely - we could see the west where our day’s drive was to take us, and the north where snow capped mountains were just visible on the horizon. and we could see Edinburgh, her castle and palace, parks, winding old town and uniform new town and suburbs set out below us - and we could see the sea. 

Stirling Castle

A much quicker decent than assent, and we piled back into the car and off to the West. Our first stop along the way was to be Stirling castle (if you’re starting to see a theme with our points of interest I don’t blame you). Lonely Planet had pronounced Stirling Castle as the one castle that must be seen in Scotland - even above Edinburgh Castle. With that kind of recommendation how could we possibly just drive past. The castle, clearly visible form the highway certainly does catch your attention. Build right up to the cliff face of the hill that its on, you have amazing views from below of the castle looming up at you. 

The Wallace Monument

Another monument commanding the view is the Wallace Monument built in 1869 in a nationalistic surge. Looking like some destroyed abbey, this impressive viewing tower  and museum stands over the valley bellow - and if nothing else provides for some spectacular photos. 

Stirling Castle was the seat of Robert the Bruce at one point, and actually defended itself against sieges and cannon fire, the evidence of which can still be seen on the walls. A lot of effort has been invested in recent years to restore the apartments and great hall. 

Stirling Castle 

We arrived just as two groups of school children also descended on the castle and grounds. The first were teenagers and they merely moped about the gardens whilst encouraged by their teachers. The primary school kids on the other hand screamed around the castle - both at pace and volume - running up and down every stairwell they could find and pinging off every nook and arrow slit. They tangled about our legs as we tried to see the outer castle buildings, followed by their rather harangued teachers and volunteer parents shouting at them to look where they were going (and wishing they’d taken them somewhere more sedate). 

A walk walk

To escape the kids we wandered down the outer wall of the castle, past the sheds that had been specially built outside the main walls to hold the gun powder, to find, at the very end of the road, an exhibit on weaving - specifically on the recreation of The Hunt of the Unicorn Tapestries.  The exhibition includes a full scale loom with one of the recreation tapestries in progress.  Usually there are three weavers working on the tapestry 7.5 hours a day, 5 days a week - it takes 4 years to finish one of the full scale reproductions. Unfortunately they had been sent to help finish another one of the tapestries in the collection and weren't there. I have however been inspired to do a weavers course at the college that trains the weavers for this project. It is almost a lost art, and the product is so beautiful. I might start small though - a cushion perhaps. 

After finishing our wander through the castle we got back on the road to the Trossachs national park on a quest to see Rob Roy Macgregor’s grave. When the family drove around Scotland in 1998 we had found the tiny village of Balquhidder in which he is buried and given we were going to be staying quite close I was keen to find it again. We drove right along the shores of Loch Lubnaig then up into the hills behind, along extremely narrow lanes and finally pulled up to the church yard where he is buried. Rob Roy Macgregor was still buried where we had left him 14 years ago with the epitaph ‘Despite them’ still on his grave stone. What I hadn't remembered was the beauty of valley and the churchyard that the grave sits in with the rushing stream nearby and grand trees growing inside what was once the church. 

From Balquhidder we headed back down the hills towards our B&B for the night. We decided on setting out to use Sawdays for all of the places we were going to stay. We discovered Sawdays thanks to our friend Rose’s recommendation when we first got here as a generally good guide of where to stay. The only place Sawdays couldn't help us was Dundee where we ended up in a lovely hotel. In Edinburgh all the places they recommended were full, so we ended up at 11 Nelson st which was the recommendation of someone on the Sawdays list. 

We had picked out a particularly special looking place for the night of my birthday. Cadross Estate was described as a manor house on an estate with a couple of self contained cabins, and a couple of rooms for B&B in the main house. Dogs were apparently welcome.  We arrived at the end of a long drive at the front of a house that was straight out of Pride and Prejudice (which I had been reading aloud to Tony for the last few months and finished while on the trip). We were welcomed at the front door by Archie and Nicola and their terriers Beetle and Scrumpy. We entered into a large front room with a welcoming fire. Archie checked with Nicola which room we were to stay in (out of the many bedrooms in the house). She replied that we were to be in Alistair’s old room - their son.  We were shown up a grand staircase past the family portraits, embroidered panels and grandfather clocks. 

The front room

Beetle by the fire

Birthday champagne and P&P by the fire

Once we settled in we all had tea in the library by the fire and we read the short history of the house that was prepared for guests. We realised that our hosts were the Baronet Archibald Donald Orr-Ewing and Lady Nicola Orr-Ewing, and that the family had owned the house for generations. I don’t think I've ever met a real Lord and Lady - eep! At least I didn't dunk my biscuits in my tea. They were extremely gracious hosts, made us the tea and hot chocolate, and sat and chatted about our trip so far, where we were from and where we were going. Archie excused himself as he had organised to go curling (the strange sport where you brush the ice in front of rocks with little brooms to get the rock in the goal), but promised he’d be back for dinner. Nicola offers dinner to her guests (for the tiny sum of £30 per head), and so we settled on 8pm and she left us to our own devices while she went to prepare the meal. We settled by the fire with a bottle of Moet we had brought with us and continued reading P&P (a copy we borrowed from their library) by the fire with the company of the dogs until dinner was ready. 

The Library

We had dinner in the small dinning room, accessed through the main dinning room (picture something from Netherfield with large paintings on the walls and grand windows overlooking the park). Whilst not as romantically grand, this was the practical choice as the realities of heating such a large house became apparent. Fires in every room only barely kept up with the -1 degree temperatures outside and the smaller the room, the warmer and cosier you were. Nicola and Archie (once he returned victorious from his curling) dined with us and the conversation turned to everything from politics to environmentalism. Their son Alistair, whose old room we were occupying was up from Sandhurst the following weekend with 20 friends. As all parents do they were lamenting about how they were going to feed a party of that size (lasagne made in bulk and the kitchen table added to the end of the normal large dinning table in the main room - sounds just like parties at our farm). Alistair is off to Afghanistan for his second tour in a couple of weeks. Our best wishes for his safe return are with his parents. 

It was an excellent dinner, and an experience i’m not sure we’ll ever get to repeat. After dinner we retired to the library, read a few more chapters of P&P and slipped up to bed.  

Edinburgh - Old Town and New Town

Edinburgh - Old Town and New Town

11 Nelson St - with the blue door

Our third morning started of the Northern adventure on the very top floor of a 5-storey house in New Town in Edinburgh. Our next B&B at ’11 Nelson St’ was a lovely and large town house occupying the top 2 floors. We were at first very confused. We entered the flat through a door that had only 2 names on the front - and was right next door to the others on either side (we could have leaned over the railings and knocked on their doors instead just about). In the door we had the choice only of immediately up the stairs or down. It wasn’t till we’d climbed 4 floors that we came to a single door - and at this level we found both of the 2 doors advertised at the front. This meant that the 2 flats entering by this door occupied only the 4th and 5th floors. The people occupying the 1st, 2nd and 3rd must have entered by the doors on either side of the street facing front door. Neither of us had ever come across such a complicated way of arranging apartments, and it occupied much of the breakfast conversation between us the next morning as to how they must all be laid out. 

The beautiful wallpaper in the bathroom 

The top of the stairs

11 Nelson Street was beautiful, however, the rooms large, ceilings high, wallpaper stunning and art quite interesting. When we arrived they were in the process of switching the dinning room and lounge rooms (something Mum used to delight in doing when Dad went out - so he would come how to find the house completely swapped over and all of us behaving as if everything were normal). We breakfasted in what had been the lounge, which made for an extremely spacious and rather grand dinning room, and I am determined to have similarly large rooms in any house I build in the future. 

Edinburgh Castle

We ventured from New Town to Old Town on foot, passing the Old Mound, and gaining an excellent view of the castle on the way up (and a good appreciation of the exhaustion of any attacking army at trying to ascend the hill - although we weren’t wearing any armour). Lonely Planet had recommended a walk through Old Town that seemed to assume that everyone would be staying at the foot of Edinburgh Castle. By the time we had huffed our way to the top of the walk we realized that the Castle was in fact only 50m to our right, and that the walk proposed to take us back down to the bottom of the hill again (and have us then ascend the hill to the Castle). We decided to abandon the suggested walk and head instead to the Castle. 

The view form the castle forecourt

The views of Edinburgh from the Castle are pretty spectacular, and you can see how tribes in the Bronze Age would have chosen it as a place of protection (although windy). We arrived just in time for a tour and so wound our way to the top with the assistance of a lovely Scotch guide who explained interesting details of the various previous uses of the castle, and the history of its defenses. The castle is still used today by the Army, and so we saw some chilly looking men wandering around the castle in their ceremonial uniforms (kilts!) who were apparently going through some sort of graduation ceremony. After a walk through the great hall, a peek at the Scottish royal jewels and a quick lunch, we descended the castle hill to the sound of the bagpipes being played and caught in the wind. Our timing was excellent. 

The steep ascent for any attackers

One interesting part of our tour was the very recently returned Stone of Destiny. It had been the cube of stone on which all Scottish kings had been crowned for 400 years until Edward I conquered the north, stealing the stone and taking it down to London. It formed part of the ceremonial chair in Westminster used to crown the kings and queens of England (and Scotland since James I of England and VI of Scotland) for the last 700 years. Only recently did the current Queen decide that it ought to be returned to Scotland (on the promise that it be returned when the time comes for the next coronation).

Tony preaparing to wander the city on his own

Tony spent the afternoon exploring the Old Town on his own while I curled up in our room suffering the effects of the ‘Edinburgh Epidemic’ of gastro bugs apparently sweeping the city. Much rest would be needed for my birthday the following day. 

The North - getting there

The Northern Adventure begins - the journey there

Pea Soup

We set off for our northern adventure on one of those foggy London days that people call ‘pea soup’, and that Sherlock Holmes describes loosing his criminals in. We trudged through the mist to pick up our car, which to Tony’s delight had been upgraded from a VW Polo to a Pergeot 308CC convertible - not that the weather was going to be conducive to having the top down.  

Our first stop was Kings College Chapel in Cambridge - partly because it was on the way to Yorkshire where we were spending the night. We walked through the beautiful streets of the university town to get to the Chapel. It was graduation day so we had the added bonus of seeing the students striding around in their gowns, posing with their parents. 

Busy Cambridge Streets

Inside the Chapel was as beautiful as I remembered from my visit with Mum and Dad in 1998. What I hadn’t remembered was the intensity of the Tudor motifs. As one of the plaques pointed out, the Tudors had just won a long civil war, and so probably felt entitled to revel in creating a beautiful church filled with their red and white rose. While we were sitting and enjoying the stained glass windows and the elegant fan vaulted ceiling, the Organist started practising. We finished out visit bathed in the peals of the organ as it echoed around the walls. 

Outside Kings College Chapel

We bundled ourselves back into the car - and because it now gets dark (proper dark) here at about 4pm in the afternoon, abandoned plans to drive through Ely (it apparently got its name from the Eels that use to thrive in the water around the village - eel pie is still served as a local speciality) and headed straight for Yorkshire. 

We were booked into The Mount House, a stunning B&B in the little village of Terrington which is in estate of Castle Howard. The drive was tough - only 2.5 hours - but all of it in the pouring rain on unknown roads. We arrived tired at 6.30 to be welcomed into the lovely warm house of Kathryn and Nick and their two Labradors and a cat. After a glass of wine, the tail end of the rugby, good chats to our hosts and a freshen up, we jumped back in the car to head to the local gastro pub ‘the Durham Ox’. Named after an Ox that was apparently over 1000k and stood 5’10”, the pub is in the village of Crayke which sits at the bottom of the hill that the Grand Old Duke of York marched his 10,000 men up and down.  The pub served excellent local steak, game, and deconstructed apple crumble. perfect fare in the cold and wet. 

We drove through the winding country roads back to the Mount House and curled up in our gloriously soft bed. 

Houses, Romans and Ruins 

After a lovely leisurely breakfast, with plenty of coffee, pats of the dogs, and lessons on my ipad for Kathryn and Nick, we packed the car and set off. We had wanted to go for a walk locally but persistent rain and strong wind meant that it would have been just miserable. Instead we went for a drive around the nearby villages while we waited for Castle Howard to open.

Castle ruins at Sheriff Hutton

One of the most amazing things about driving through Britain is the ability to drive through a village, and look up and see the ruins of a castle or an abbey. Our first real experience of this was driving through the village of Sheriff Hutton. We pulled off the road to take photos. What was most striking was that the village had probably been there as long as the castle had, and when the castle fell into ruins, the village just continued on around it. 

The approach to Castle Howard

Getting excited about castles was nothing compared to Castle Howard. We were very lucky as many of the manor houses are only open during the summer - however Castle Howard opens again for the end of November  (yesterday to be exact) until Christmas so the public can see the house decorated with lights and holly. Castle Howard was the set for Brideshead Revisited, and for anyone who has seen the movie, you may remember the approach to the house - long straight roads through archways and gatehouses lined by trees. Even in the winter with the trees all bare, it really is breathtaking. 

Walls - to keep things out - or in

The door to the walled garden

We got ourselves tickets from the stable courtyard where the visitors’ reception is and wandered down the hill towards the house. On the right hand side of the walk down is the walled rose garden and ornamental vegetable garden. We opened a very unassuming door in the wall and suddenly found ourselves in a private world. It felt just like something from The Secret Garden (Tony hasn’t ever read or seen it so I had to give him the Reader’s Digest version as we wandered around). No one else visiting the house was bothering to look at the grounds (it was still raining and quite cold) so we had the place entirely to ourselves. 

The front of Castle Howard

The Moat

The house itself is so ‘happily situated’ by the shores of a large lake, surrounded by woods and rolling hills. Built around 300 years ago by the Howard family - after their brush with royalty when HenryVIII married Catherine Howard and then beheaded her - and has been owned by the same family ever since. The tour of the house is really comprehensive - walking through bedrooms, music rooms, through the main entrance hall (with a quick stop to warm up by the fire), up the stairs to look down from the gallery. Adorned with christmas decorations it actually felt like a home. Pictures of the current generation of children stood on the desks and pianos as they would in any house, and presents under the various christmas trees were wrapped and named by a mother (and not a stylist). Unlike visiting Versailles - which just feels like a museum - Castle Howard was a modern example of how to run a large (and expensive) house, whilst remaining engaged with the local community that now supports it - rather than the other way around. 

Castle Helmsley

From Castle Howard we headed for the Yorkshire Moors for a taste of Wuthering Heights. At the entrance to the Moors National Park however we got sidetracked by the castle in the village of Helmsley. The castle had been started in the 1100s and added to over the next 600 years. It has quite amazing defenses which still survive - a ditch, a very high hill, then a deep moat, then another steep hill and then the castle. During the English Civil War the defenses were tested as the castle was under siege for 3 months until they surrendered. The parliamentarians  determined that the castle be destroyed to prevent it being used in future by the royalists - and so most of the towers were knocked down - and later pillaged by local farmers for the stone. We had a great time clambering around the ruins in the cold and imagining how hard it would have been to actually attack such a well placed castle. 

From Helmsley we drove into the moors. The countryside actually changed colour - from rolling greens to reds and browns - and craggy peaks. It was easy to imagine it as a fitting scene for King Lear to be wandering and Heathcliff to be ranging. A couple of quick roadside stops for photos and we headed for Hadrian’s wall and the remains of Corbridge Roman Town. 

The Moors

The Grain Stores at Corbridge Roman Town

We got there just on dusk (3.30pm) and rushed out to wander the streets of what was once the frontier of the Roman Empire. We were quite astonished at the level of sophistication in the frontier town - carefully constructed grain silos with channeled air underneath the floor to keep the grain dry, stone drains in the streets (with carefully laid stones to allow you to cross without falling in). But most amazing of all was the road - the main street - which connected Corbridge with the other Roman Towns along Hadrian’s Wall all the way across. By the time we finished it was too dark to see the wall itself so we set the TomTom for Edinburgh, and we’ll catch the wall on the way back South. 

As I write this we have just crossed the Boarder into Scotland and will be in Edinburgh in an hour. The real North begins. 

Candlelit '20s

A night out by candlelight

Since moving to London I have been itching to engage with the history of the place - so much as passed within these walls, and on these streets, and I was sure that somewhere in London I could find a bit that felt like the past.

You have moments, walking through the old cobblestone streets that survive in London, under the eaves of Tudor buildings (Tony always tells me they're fake), when you feel like you're transported to another time. They're rare as you travel your way to work on the tube in your corporate suit but they are there.

They are also there when you look for them. I went hunting for a 1920s night - and I found it. The Candlelight Club is a 'secret club' (with a facebook site and a webpage). Every month they organise and run a 1920s night with well researched cocktails, a band playing hits from the 20s, champagne in flat glasses, and a slightly different take on the 20s each time. During the Olympics it was 'games in the 20s', before that 'rum runners', and the weekend we got tickets for - 'an Indian Summer'.

Tony decided that if I was going to drag him along to this pretend night in the 20s, that he would at least embrace it full on. He shaved his beard off - much to my horror, found the suite in his wardrobe that suited the indian theme the best, and got into the drinking champagne out of flat glasses thing with gusto.

I decided I wouldn't wear the flapper dress I made last year - as every other girl would be in one. I instead chose to be a little ahead of the times with a 1930s dress in silk, floor length, with batwings, covered in a frangipani pattern, to better complement the Indian nights.

The nights are impeccably organised - secret locations communicated the night before, excellently researched cocktails, nibbles, and band. We spent half the night drinking and eating and watching everyone else, and the rest of the night carving up the dance floor - not sure dancing salsa to 20s is quite the done thing but oh well.

The room is entirely lit by candlelight - and I had never realised quite how bright the rooms must have been before lightbulbs. I did go home covered in candlewax - and looked up how to remove it the next morning - but it gave the whole night a special feel.

We are booked to go to the next one with a group of friends - Halloween Ball 20s style - suggestions for costumes welcome. Can't wait.