Chester, Caernarfon, Shrewsbury, Cheltenham, High Wycombe

Sorry for the long time in between posts!

Chester
We'd love to share Chester with you, but it would take forever - suffice to say it was awesome! With its history since 43AD alive in every aspect of town, it is an historian's dream town. The Romans arrived in 43AD and walled the city to protect it against the Welsh. In fact, the port of Chester was, for centuries, the main port of that part of the UK - and it was only because a mill owner built a weir across the river - which made it silt up - that Liverpool became a major port! The Saxons came next, and we visited a church or two built by them; then came the Vikings who left their mark. The Tudors and then the English civil war also has direct impacts - it was just SEETHING with history. We spent nearly 6 hours doing the self-directed 4k walk around the city! We would have loved to stay the night at a little place called the Albion hotel - it boasted it was family hostile and pub crawls and hens nights were not welcome - the decor gave us the feeling we had just walked into 1942 - with the all the WWII posters, photos and memorabilia on the wall, as well as the decor being authentic it was a wonderful piece of history in itself.

Caernafon
We left Chester for Caernarfon about 630pm - and it took about 2.5 hrs through the beautiful Snowdonia to get there. Poor Renoir was driving straight into the sun - and had to deal with the light going from full on to complete shade with no chance to adjust - it was a challenge. We arrived in Caernarfon thinking we'd missed dinner but thankfully the Travelodge was situated at the newly developed docks area, so as well as being treated to a spectacular sunset, we had a wonderful meal and well earned drink (or three)!

We spent the next day (weather started out miserable but became glorious in the evening) exploring the city, starting with the castle, which has been wonderfully restored. It contains a couple of really well-laid out and informative museums, one of the history of the castle and one of the Welsh Fusiliers - and of course we had some photos taken of, and with, the Tardis which has been positioned beautifully in the castle's Queen's Gate!

Dinner was good, old fashioned home made food at the Anglesy pub right on the water - me: lamb shanks with mashed spuds and minted peas, Renoir had a beef ad ale suet pudding - it looked and smelt fabulous. Then we were treated to a performance of Morris Dancing - it really is a slightly bizarre ritual, the dancers were good and clearly having a lot of fun, which is kinda catchy. And then a reasonably early night so we could do the trip to Shrewsbury.

Shrewsbury
The weather was cool and lovely with the drive to Shrewsbury. We stopped just twice - the first stop was in a place called "The Ugly House" - and it was! The guide gave us the wonderful story of two brothers who had built the house in accordance with the rules wicked overlord had instigated - a house could only be built if it could be erected in one night. So, the legend goes, the lads built their house in one night - choosing the shortest day in the year! Of course it's a myth, but beautifully delivered and we really enjoyed the story telling. Then a short stop in a holiday town which was ridiculously crowded with all those out adventuring in Snowdonia - hiking, camping, cycling, holiday motoring with their caravans or mobile homes; simply crawling with folks. Unfortunately we had passed a nasty car accident and clearly the car was a write-off, but fortunately everyone seemed to be walking and, although upset, safe and uninjured.

We got stuck behind a truck along a one lane road for about an hour - there's not much you can do in those cases but put on the radio and sit back and enjoy the scenery! Then, as soon as we crossed the border into Shropshire, the heavens opened. By the time we drove into Shrewsbury, about 430pm on a Friday afternoon, it was almost too thick to see through the rain - and then we saw it; a pub with a sign - Vacancies, free wifi, parking - three of our boxes ticked! In we drove and grabbed the last room and settled in for the evening. Good food, comfy bed, a drink or three and we took the night off - and just as well, it bucketed down for hours!
We were there, unplanned, for the 400th anniversary of the battle between Henry IV and Percy Hotspur - so moseyed up to the medieval re-enactment. The first thing we did was assist a man who managed to break his arm while jousting - not through the activity itself, but falling badly. He looked so pale, grey and sweaty poor chap, he was in a lot of pain. His chain mail alone, which Renoir had carried to the car, weighed about 30 kilos, and left some interesting indentations on Renoir's arm on the way! The re-enactment was not the battle itself, more a demonstration of how people lived at the time - from wood working, to jousting, to cooking. There was also a wonderful falconry centre - just starting out so they had only about 30 birds - but they were beautiful - and funnily enough, small world hits again - the daughter of the couple who owned the falconry centre have a daughter living in Caloundra with her vet husband!
A delicous lunch and a wander through the history of the battle and then back into Shrewsbury to do a bit of Cadfael history at the Shrewsbury abbey until we hit the road to Cheltenham.

Cheltenham
The Travelodge is usually really easy to find - it's always next to some major infrastructure, it might be a services with petrol station and roadside diners, or a major supermarket chain. Cheltenham was a little different, and not on the road on which we came into the city - but find it we did, and it was next to a Harvester restaurant - kind of like a Sizzler.
Before leaving Shrewsbury we had picked up a bit of cheese and cold meat, and a bottle or two and stayed in that night - we were exhausted, so watched a bit of TV and had an early night - but not before enjoying a Columbo episode starring Billy Connelly as the bad guy!
The next day we drove out to the International Centre for Birds of Prey at Newent. This centre was very different to the one at Shrewsbury - they have been in business for many decades, and have about 100 birds including a Secretary bird from Africa, buzzards, vultures, eagles, owls, falcons, kestrels and others. We were lucky enough to be there for two flight demonstrations - the end of one and a full one about an hour later. It is so wonderful to see these magnificent birds behave as they would in the wild - the falcons flying high, high, high, almost invisible against the clouds, the swooping for the lure. My favourite is the Eurasian Eagle Owl - they stand up to about my knee, have brilliant orange eyes and fabulous feathered coats.
The next day we explored a lovely little town called Winchcombe not far from Cheltenham. Another dripping with history (well I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the UK is one huge historical theme park!) with Katherine Parr, HenryVIII last - and surviving wife - lived in the nearby castle, and Elizabeth I went to live with her after Henry's death. We visitetd the local church and were treated to a tour with a couple of wardens. Unlike many churches that feel all style and little substance, like the cathedral in Chester (which was exceedingly beautiful but didn't have much of a feeling of community) - it had a wonderful feeling of being very much at the centre of religious life in the current community. It also had, under wraps, an original tapestry worked on by Catherine of Aragon. How it still survives after 500 years is a true miracle!
That night we had a lovely catch up with Renoir's cousin Christine and her husband Jim at a gorgeous little local pub (they live in Gloucester, the next town along from Cheltenham). Gotta love those lamb shanks ! And Renoir licked his lips when he found there was calves liver and bacon on the menu! We felt very selfish, but it was lovely to have the time with them on our own - Christine and Renoir had a grand time sharing family stories - some they were reliving and some they were sharing for the very first time.

High Wycombe
Next on the itinerary was High Wycombe - well a little town close by. Sandra and Neale, friends of Renoir's for many years, had invited us to stay a couple of nights and we were looking forward to catching up with them and staying in a home! Unfortunately, Neale's presence was required in Italy, and we missed seeing him, but Sandra (and Tuj, their highly enthusiastically friendly Rhodesian Ridgeback) were very welcoming. Sandra had plans for the day, and asked us to arrive after 6pm (Sandra and Neale live on the military base, so we can't just lob in, but need to be escorted).  So on the way, we stopped at a pretty little pub about lunch time called the Inn for All Seasons. Have I mentioned how FABULOUS the pubs are across this land? This equalled the Shoulder of Mutton in Middleton Tyas. The food was spectacular - it's a 2-generation owned pub and their chef is truly a maestro. Just telling you what we had won't do it justice - but imagine a smooth duck liver pate, with a sauterne jelly crushed across the top of the plate with home made brioche to accompany it. Imagine scallops and bacon, with rocket and halved quail eggs, smooth and smoky, topped with a sprinkle of virgin olive oil! mmmmmmmm! And joining us for lunch at this little road side treasure was none other than Sir Anthony Hopkins. True! Well not at our table, but at the next one. No-one could miss that marvellous voice. He was with a small group of five - apparently they had filmed nearby at some stage and had wanted to try the pub. There were only a few people in the pub, and only one person asked for his autograph - we chose to let the man have his lunch in peace - but it was a lovely little brush with fame!

Sandra guessed quite rightly that we were a bit shattered from travelling, so we had a lovely cruisey evening, with a late dinner  in their enormous garden. A good sleep in a wonderfully soft bed, with hand made quilts made us feel very spoilt. and a cruisy day the next day, it was overcast and cool, so it wasn't hard to take time out to update administrivia! Sandra, Tuj and Renoir went for a walk, and Renoir turned his ankle again, it looked pretty painful, but he insisted he could walk on it. That night we took Sandra to the local pub as a thank you for her hospitality (we even got to do a bit of washing for which we were awfully grateful - only so much can be done in the shower!). The weather had turned into a lovely gentle evening, warm but not hot, and with a soft breeze, the English twilight and a good pub meal made for a delightful evening.
Next day we took off about 930am, intending to drive straight to Stratford Upon Avon. But we got waylaid by a little tourist attraction in West Wycombe called 'Hellfire Cave" and yes, this was the location of the original Hellfire Club!
More later....!

Scotland - Mull, Islay, Glasgow

Tuesday 12 to Thursday 14 July - Oban and Mull

The drive to Oban was delightful – the weather fine and the roads clear. We stopped off at a wee gift shop (they were the only place that offered a WC in 15 miles) and enjoyed chatting to the owners – patting their cats, and picking up a couple of things to remind us of our lovely time there.

We were caught in a traffic jam coming into Oban as Princess Anne had arrived and was officiating at the Oban’s 150^th birthday celebrations – complete of course with bag pipe bands, and school kids parading, and the most incongruous of all was a bunch of school kids playing ukeleles to celebrate!

We parked the car in the queue for the ferry, got the tickets and had about 40 mins to wander around Oban before needing to be back at the car. Oban is a very pretty seaside town – with lovely architecture, and a number of lovely shops, many local businesses rather than chain stores.

The ferry to Mull takes a brisks 40 minutes, and it seemed no sooner had we ordered a drink than we were about to dock!

The ferry arrives at Craignure – and we got to know it well as Renoir’s favourite pub on Mull is the Craignure Inn, and for good reason, but more of that later.  Accommodation was the Crera Hotel literally a five minute drive from the wharf – a chain, but with the feeling of something a little more homely. The buildings are low rise so as not to interfere with the landscape, and built so all the rooms look out onto XXX Bay, separated by a number of low growing coastal plants which gave some privacy in the gardens from the coastal walk.

Our room wasn’t ready when we arrived about 3pm, so we wandered into town for a bevy at said Inn before returning, where I had a nap and Renoir went off to visit the memorial  plaque to Gill and her grandmother.

In the evening, back to the ‘village’ where we were disappointed to find that McGregor’s pub only opens for lunch (business must be good!) so continued on to the Craignure Inn for a dinner, which was delicious.

As the sun was just setting (it was about 930pm) we decided to return to the hotel via the coastal road to enjoy the gloaming (as the Scots call it – beautiful soft light than just sort of fades away gently), when Renoir twisted and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. The path had an edge that had been covered by grass and given the softness of the light, and the fact that he was concentrating on taking photos, he didn’t see it. His ankle was twisted, but being the old footballer he is, walked on it to determine the damage. Back at the hotel the bar staff kindly gave him a serviette full of ice, and I got some anti-inflammatory cream from the room, as well as the pressure bandage I was carrying just in case my own ankle went (still recovering from the fall I had at the end of March in the Hunter Valley!) 

A wee dram of single malt, ice, anti-inflammatories meant he passed on ok night and his ankle, although swollen, was ok to walk on the next day.

Wednesday 13 July – Mull

We decided to keep Renoir still for a while, so did some photo downloading and diary catch up in the morning, and I went off to book myself in for a massage. We had a light lunch of pate and then I drove us up to Duart Castle –the clan seat of the McLeans (or MacLean or however you want to spell it!)

The castle has been wonderfully restored by the grandfather of the current clan head, and it has laid out what life would have been like in the 17^th century – quite uncomfortable, breezy and dark in my view. The dungeons have mannequins dressed like Spanish prisoners, there are more mannequins in the kitchen, and the bedroom and banquet halls are filled with costumes, furniture, object d’art and weaponry from that time, accompanied by explanations about how they lived, and the clan history. It was brilliantly done – and we were also fortunate enough to be treated to a choral performance in the courtyard of the castle by the Mull Gaelic Choir. Their 12 voices soared up the four stone walls and they sounded truly beautiful – perhaps not as polished as the smaller group we had seen in St Petersburg, but certainly they were passionate.

We finished off our Duart Castle experience with taking photographs from the battlements at the top, which, given the weather was so beautiful, afforded us spectacular 360 degree views, then a cup of tea and a cake and a slow drive back into town – slow because it’s a very windy one-lane road (at least I didn’t have the cyclists with me on the way back the way I did on the way up!)

Back at the hotel by 5pm and off I went to have my massage, while Renoir did some more diary writing and checking of emails etc.. The massage was not the most relaxing I’ve ever had, but my neck felt wonderfully released after she had finished.

Dinner was, again, at the Craignure Inn, and this time they exceeded my expectations. Renoir had salmon, with brie and herbed breadcrumbs, I had the local mussels – and by local I mean from the mussel farm in the next bay. They were plump and creamy, debearded, steamed and served in a thin white wine, cream, garlic and parsley sauce – on my – they were exquisite and certainly the very best mussels I have ever enjoyed! We stayed until closing, drinking whiskey (I had a Clayva – like a Drambouie but not as sweet) watching the crowd and chatting – Craignure was full of tourists, there were two bus loads staying in our hotel alone, as well as a number of independent travelers, so the conversation was lively and the staff friendly.

Thursday 14 July Islay

Well, an early start  to be in queue for the ferry by 815am, and onto Islay.

The port for the ferry to Mull is Oban and, as I mentioned, is a lively little town. Well the port for the ferry to Islay is Kennacraig, and couldn’t be more different – two demountable offices and that’s it. It was a 2 hour drive from Oban to Kennacraig, so we could take it slowly, and stopped off in a little fishing village called Tarbut – which I’d love to go back to. Really just one main street running around the bay, it had a very friendly feel and a great history, being home to one of the castles of Robert the Bruce, and having a Viking history as well.

But the ferry waits for no-one so a 30 mins break and we were off down the road for the ferry.

This trip was much longer, nearly two hours, and the ferry reminded us more of the P&O we took around New Zealand than an island hopping ferry. Strobe lights, sculptures, lots of chrome – it was very fancy – but with a terrible reputation we were to discover. Made in Poland, it keeps needing to be repaired, and indeed we had the old ferry on the way back a couple of days later!

It was a misty trip out, not much good for photos, so we settled in to watch the golf, and read. The ferry docks at Port Askaig (pron Askay) and then it’s about a 40 mins drives to Port Ellen (pron P’tellen – the emphases on words tends to be on the 2^nd syllable). 

Hamish and Rhona run a guest house at which Renoir has stayed before, and were incredibly welcoming – to the point of having us join them upstairs for a drink after we had settled in!  P’tellen is a tiny little fishing village, with 2 pubs, 1 food co-op, 1 convenience store, two taxis (big improvement apparently because for years it has just been Carol’s Cabs – with 1 cab for the whole island out of P’tellen!) We shot the breeze with Hamish and Rhona for a while and then wandered up to the White Hart for dinner – the only pub that does food. (Across the road from Hamish & Rhona’s is the Islay Hotel which has been undergoing renovations and restoration for a couple of years – we heard they should be open when next we visit as they are just doing the final touches on the courtyard which will serve as the beer garden.)

The White Hart was very welcoming, with good if slightly plain food. Renoir said his dinner of breaded pork (basically pork schnitzel) would have not been unwelcome on his parents dinner table, while my roasted root veggie and nut load with goats cheese was quite tasty, if a little stodgy. Still it showed imagination and an understanding that vegetarian doesn’t just mean meat-free!

An early night because there much exploring to do the next day!

Friday 15 July – Islay

We arose and breakfasted about 815am – Rhona’s breaksfasts are served between 800am and 845am – if you’re not there you miss out! And Renoir had been looking forward to his porridge and kippers for months – and they didn’t disappoint!

Our first visit was to the beach that will be Flora’s final resting place – but the weather was a bit blustery and we figured another time would be better, so headed onto Bowmore (pron B’more) – which is more or less the capital of Islay, and certainly the biggest town. With the blustering wind and rain we decided to take refuge in their gift shops for a while – and amazingly enough – bought nothing!  We cruised down to the Harbour View Hotel to book dinner for the next night before the local caleidh (pron caley - literally meaning ‘the visit’ but always including music, singing and dancing).

We stopped for a light lunch in the Loch View hotel (venue of said caleidh) and then moved on to Bruichladdich (pron Brucladdy) distillery – hoping to catch up with Renoir’s mate Mary, and to taste a whiskey or two – and on the way we stopped to take photos of seals on the rocks – not exactly sunning themselves as there was no sun! but relaxing, flipping their tales and doing things that seals do – such as nothing.

It was such a shame that this was the one day of the year that Mary had off to attend a wedding – so Renoir left her a note, and we tasted their latest brew called the Botanist (locals of course calling it the BotANist!) It is a gin, with ingredients such as apple mint, hawthorn, elder, meadowsweet, wormwood, sweet cicely, tansy, wild thyme and other local wildflowers – and it is FABULOUS! Sorry, don’t think there’ll be any of our bottle left when we get home, but I look forward to finding it somewhere in Brissy and sharing it!

After a bit of a wander and a bit of a tasting we drove to Portnahaven – where the weather really closed in, it was about 14 degrees  – so it was Renoir who bravely got out of the car and took photos of the half a dozen seals frolicking in the bay, then a cruisey, roundabout drive back to P’tellen.

The island of Islay is very interesting from a geographical point of view – it has its green  bit, it’s sandy bit which reminds me a lot of places like Tuncurry and Forster on the NSW mid north coast; it has peaty bits (which of course is why it is whiskey heaven) and rolling green hills with sheep.  It has seals, and lots of fabulous birds and in fact has been recognised as a place of scientific interest for its multitude of bird life.

Back to the White Hart for dinner – where Renoir went vegetarian – and apparently the mushroom stroganoff was just delicious. My Cajun chicken was also yummy, and we chatted to a Portuguese couple who were over as Joachim is a keen whiskey drinker. His English wasn’t very good – but hey, better than my Portuguese! And her’s was good, but they had real trouble understanding the waitress who spoke in a heavy Islay accent at 19 to the dozen! He ended up with scallops and black pudding – and it was the scallops he wasn’t so keen on as he doesn’t eat fish – but he manfully tried it and decided it was quite nice.

It was about this time I discovered that it’s quite acceptable on Islay for a lady to have water in her whiskey – so Renoir chose a nice single malt for me – and I think I have developed quite a taste for it!

Saturday 15 Juy - Islay

Ah, apparently Rhona also makes a mean potato cake and cooks delicious bacon – so Renoir had a good start to the day.

First we drove to Kildalton, to see a very early Christian Circle cross (about 600AD) in an old chapel thought to be 14^th century. It was fabulous, although the chapel no longer had a roof, the walls were still in good repair, and there were a number of really interesting grave stones around, including a few slabs with knights  carved into them – very King Arthur!  There is also the curious thing – a cross just outside the churchyard called the ‘Thieves Cross’. It’s a wonderful mystery, with some telling the story that it is the grave of the priest who was murdered by Vikings because he wouldn’t tell them where the whiskey was hidden – but surely he would earn being buried in consecrated ground for that!

About this time the rain abated, and we even had patches of blue in the sky! So off to Ardbeg, the old Renoir family distillery. Although they are no longer there, you can see the place where the homes for the maltmen and their families and other workers used to be. We looked around, but the weather was clearing so beautifully we didn’t want to miss the chance to go back to Kilnaughton Bay and have our ceremony for Flora.

The trip itself was glorious, with sun shining through the woods and onto mossy stone fences; and we saw more seals on the way too – almost giving us their blessing with a flick of their tails.

The sun was peeking through the clouds as Renoir scattered her ashes into the bay she loved so much, and we had a wee dram of Ardbeg single malt in the Viking style leather goblets we had bought in York. The sun came out then, and bathed the island in its glow, so we knew she was happy to be home.

I was really pleased to see the sun too, as it changes the whole island completely – and what had been slightly desolate the day before turned simply glorious.

We explored the cemetery where it is thought many of the family are buried, and Renoir found some more gravestones that seem to fit his family tree. And although I have always found cemetaries nice, peaceful places to be (and mostly not menacing) I have to say it is slightly disconcerting to suddenly disturb a rabbit who comes bounding out from behind a gravestones, or under a slab to run away!

We then drove off to Bridge End and had a wonderful light lunch at the Bridge End hotel. The service was wonderful, and Renoir’s terrine of woodcock, partridge and venison was particularly fine; my cesaer salad of radicchio as the lettuce base change the whole look and taste of what is a standard favourite and it was delicious, topped off as it was by a guinea fowl egg! I just love the pubs in the UK – there’s always a surprise awaiting, and it’s usually a good one!

Then off to ‘The Centre’ at Bridge End, where there is a tiny brewery (the brewery itself is about the size of our loungeroom); a chocolate shop, art gallery, quilting centre and batik shop. It is also the site for Islay House for the gentry, and the Islay House garden – a community garden which is massive and full of wonderfully fresh fruit and veg – definitely somewhere to go for produce if you are doing a self-catering holiday on the island.

All this took us ages to explore – the weather was glorious, the people friendly, the batik – something that at first seemed so incongruous on Islay, is done by Liz Sykes by hand by on silk – scarves, art work for the walls, kimonos, ties – truly exquisite work.

We both had a siesta back at the B&B before chuffing off to B’more for dinner – we had booked about 7pm. It was most grand – first we were ushered into the conservatory to have a pre dinner drink and look a the menu. After ordering, you finish your drink then taken to your table where your entrée is brought out almost immediately. Renoir totally scored with black risotto & scallops, while my hot smoked trout was tasty, but not as good as the scallops. Then we both had lobster tail with whiskey butter – ooooh yum – I haven’t had lobster in years! This was accompanied by a very nice South African chardonnay called Tokana, a nice crisp fruity wine to balance the richness of the seafood.

Then I tried cranachen (pron cranak) for desert which is oats, mixed with whiskey and cream and raspberries, accompanied by a piece or two of shortbread – it was delicious but surely better for breakfast!

We then headed to the caleidh – which was fun – a band with key board, accordion, guitar and drums and singer all seemingly local had a very boisterous and supportive crowd dancing and singing along. And who should we run into but the barmaid who had served us that day in Bridge End – well it’s not a big island so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised – she remembered us and we chatted before leaving for home, readying ourselves for the trip to Glasgow the next day and falling into bed about 1230am.

Sunday 17 July – Islay to Glasgow

The day was wet, cold and windy – almost as is the sun had shone once and that was it, it had forgotten us again!

We breakfasted and hoped to visit the woolen mill, but Islay closes down on Sunday mornings for church, so off to Bunnahabhain (pron Bannaheaven) distillery – which was along a very winding, one lane road with a steep cliff off one side and a spectacular view. Well it would have been more spectacular if it hadn’t been raining so much!  But hell, as they say, there’s no bad weather, just badly chosen clothes, so off we went. It really was pretty, but the wind was so strong it nearly blew Renoir off his feet, so back into the car and back along the one lane, winding road to the main road to take us to the ferry back at Port Askaig.

We were a bit early, and there is nothing at Port Askaig except a corner store (closed until about 1230pm – which was when we were due on our ferry) and a pub. So what else was there to do but have a wee dram and wait for the ferry? Nothing, so that’s what we did!

The ferry back, as I mentioned, was not the shining example of Polish craftsmanship, but the old ferry, and somehow more comfy. We settled ourselves in for a couple of hours without much to see because of the weather, and alighted back at Kennacraig to drive to Glasgow.

I love the country roads in the UK, and always feel a bit of sadness when coming back into a city – I think it’s too much like back to real life! But Glasgow surprised me – it has wonderful architecture, wide open streets – and it rained like no-one’s business when we arrived! Added to that was the street map I was using to navigate – you’d think you’d be pretty safe with a 2010 directory – well we were for the streets, except that Glasgow is a multitude of one way streets (not unlike Brisbane) and we discovered that many of these streets had changed their one way to the other way! Lots of fun.

The first evening was just a wander around the city – with a pub meal at The Goose – Renoir discovered a new cider (okay, I’ll take credit for it as I bought the drinks and it was one I didn’t think he’d had before – Gamley’s), and we had a bite to eat. The ‘gloaming’ lasts for ages, so it’s easy to gete waylaid by time if you’re not concentrating.

Next morning we had domestic duties to do, Laundromat, posting stuff home, buying a new phone etc.. all that takes time.

That evening, we were collected by Renoir’s cousin Willie who took us back to his place and he and his wife Rita gave us supper and Renoir and Willie talked family history until the cows came home. I was starting to worry that we were keeping them up late – and stated making “Well it’s time we were off” noises about 1015pm, but they would have none of it and poured another whiskey and chatted a while more  and eventually Willie took us home just after 11pm – not bad for a couple who are nearly 80! A big thank you to Willie and Rita for such a lovely family filled evening!

As we were only there for a brief stint we didn’t explore that much of Glasgow except for the city, did a bit of shopping and basically explored – but it’s definitely one f those “gotta get back here” cities.

Leaving Glasgow we had set our sites on Chester, on Willie’s advice,  as an overnight stop before Caenarfon, but our last stop in Scotland was Gretna Green - the place where the English used go for quickie marriages, and sometimes quickie divorces. It was our last gasp of Scotland and I have to say I can't wait until we return - I'm so looking forward to spending more time in this fabulously welcome and extremely beautiful; country.

Wed 6 to Tues 12 July - Berwick, Lindisfarne, Ednam, Craven Arms, Gloucester and SURPRISE! and on to Oban

Wednesday 6 July:  Highlights – Hadrian’s Wall, Vindolanda, Roman Museum, dinner with Berwick supporters club!

We awoke reasonably early and were on the road before breakfastime (well early for us!).  Our first thoughts were to go straight to Berwick and explore this wonderful old walled city – it is steeped in history and there is so much to explore.

And the WE HIT THE WALL! Hadrian’s Wall that is! Renoir had never explored it and it has been nearly 20 years since I was fascinated by its charm so as we had the time we thought we would enjoy just a brief waylay. Huh! Try and briefly waylay anything when you start exploring such a rich history!

Firstly we explored Housesteads – the best preserved site of a Roman garrison along the Wall. Naturally it was on the top of a hill – I mean where else would you position a fort! Checkout FB for the pix of my beserker husband climbing over the fort! The remains of this fort are truly amazing – it was used nearly 2000 years ago and you can still see the lavatory flushing system, the granary for their foodstuffs, and the remains of the barracks. Naturally the place was crawling with school kids who, of course, have absolutely NO IDEA how fortunate they are – but then I guess none of us did either when we were at museums and stuff.

Anyway, as we were on top of a hill with a fabulous view we had advance warning on the oncoming weather, and it looked nasty. So back to the car and on to Vindolanda.

How to describe Vindolanda? It was both a Roman fort and a township. The township was a vicus – which meant it was self-governed. The site itself is incredibly rich in archeological artifacts because apparently the buildings were built with untreated timber (even the bark was still on it) so the timber only lasted about 8 years – when it came time to repair them, the logs were just sawn off at ground level, then bracken and other vegetation was put down over the existing floor and more timber erected on top of that. This created an anaerobic (no air) environment which protected everything really well, hence the shoes and fabrics, and other artefacts being in such a good condition.  

The most exiting discovery to date are the documents that have been unearthed. These are tablets and a provide a wonderful day to day guide as to how the garrison and villages were run, for instance how many soldiers on a particular day were in the garrison, how many were sick, absent or travelling; the food stores; soldiers’ pay records. But one of the most treasured finds was an invitions from one high-born lady to another – although a scribe had written the original invitation, the birthday girl had added something in her own handwriting to the bottom on the invitation – and is the only example of a women’s handwriting from that period in Western Europe! Even though the weather was inclement, we still walked around the excavations  - being on site is open to anyone – I don’t mean you can just turn up and dig, but you can register and be part of the crew that gets all muddy and filthy and excited about finding a piece of glass, or something more special! That is certainly on the cards for our next visit.

After Vindolanda we travelled down the road a bit to the Roman Museum, also run by the Vindolanda trust. We didn’t have a lot of time to enjoy the exhibits, but did get to enjoy the main reason  for our visit, which was to see a 30min film about life in a Roman town and garrison such as Vindolanda. It was called “An Eagles’ Eye View” and has won a swathe of awards – not surprising as the graphics were excellent. Using actors and following a short story line it recreated what life would have been like for a solider, duty, food, sleeping, training and fighting.  We were in the middle of a bunch of school kids (with much harrumping going on from Renoir!) but they quietened down when the film started and stayed quiet throughout, so that gives you an idea of how gripping it was!

After the Roman Museum it was a lickety-split trip to Berwick and dinner with the  Berwick Rangers supporters club. We were due to be collected at 650pm and got to the hotel at 6pm – enough time for a bit of quiet before dinner. Alan collected us right on time, and took us to The Salmon for dinner. A couple of drinks first so Renoir and the club could catch up on the gossip, then at 730pm Rodelle, husband Derek, son Warren, ,Alan, Renoir and I moved into the restaurant section for dinner.

What can I say – Scottish salmon is just delicious! Lemony cream sauce, lots of veggies, and fab chips (only had about four, and believe me, I was really using willpower for that!) Renoir had camembert, wrapped in parma ham, dipped in tempura batter and fried – it smelt fabulous and tasted even better!  Pub food here is truly outstanding, and I haven’t been disappointed yet, but am usually delighted by the choice, and innovation of the menu.

We left at closing and crashed from a great height, ready to explore Berwick the next day.      

Thursday 7 July – Lindisfarne to Ednam

It wasn’t the best of weather, but we weren’t going to let that stop us so ever-onward to Lindisfarne, the Holy Island which is just off the coast of Berwick – well of the coast when the tide is in, but a 20min drive when the tide is out!

The car park is down the road from the village – the village population is only 150, the streets are narrow and not really geared for a massive number of cars that visit every year. But it’s a quick walk, or an even quicker shuttle bus ride (and the weather was foul so bus it was!) Straight to the castle, and entered a different world. The furnishing were a mixed bag and gave an idea of what the mediaeval life would have been like for the soldiers (on the bottom coupleo floors) and then what life would have been like for more recent inhabitants (early 20^th century).  It was run really well, and full of historical explanations in all the rooms.

By the time we reached the battlements on top, the weather had cleared a bit and we were able to take some ok pix which give an idea of the spectacular view - Henry VIII really chose a brilliant location for a castle as you would have had loads of warning if any marauders were on the way. Then we explored the lime kilns and the walled garden, the weather staying fine for all our outdoor meanderings.

We then cruised into town for a cup of tea and, bliss, a really yummy cheese scone! Then a look at the shops, but amazingly for us, no purchases! The shuttle bus ended up being about 3minutes early and we missed the return journey (for which we had already paid!) but the walk was quiet short and gave us the chance to buy some farm fresh raspberries for dinner with Jeff and Jacqueline.   The drive back could not have been more different than the drive in, and if anyone had told me the afternoon would become as beautiful and fine as it was – well I would never have believed it possible after the driving rain we’d had coming over!

Thursday 8 July: Dnner with Jeff’n’Jax

We had met Jeff and Jacqui at Spirit House in Yandina on the Sunshine Coast when we did the Thai cooking course Jenny B gave us for a wedding gift. Thanks Jen, who would ever have thought we would be enjoying more outcomes from that course on the other side of the world!

The drive over to join Jeff and Jacqui was along gorgeous country lanes alongside beautiful farms and meadows – and the weirdest weather – the sky was overcast, yet the sun was blaring and we needed to wear sunnies, but the rain was beating onto the windscreen. The as soon as we crossed the border into Scotland, it was fine! This country is just like one big Melbourne!

Jeff and Jacqui own Edenwater, a boutique guest house with four uniquely different rooms, all with magnificent views onto their garden and the surrounding countryside. Edenwater is an old sandstone two story building, lovingly lived in and renovated to capture both the traditional beauty of bygone days and the comfort of contemporary needs. Jeff and Jacqui are such wonderful hosts, and as they had no guests we were able to enjoy a magnificent meal (cooked by Jacqui), some wonderful wine (provided by Jeff) and fabulous conversation (from all of us!) We arrived about 715pm, and wandered the garden, as the it was still so light.

Dinner was about 830pm, and Jacqui had done a wonderful Scottish/Thai fusion – beef marinated in palm sugar and other spices, with a dipping sauce, a wonderfully light potato rosti, and a selection of greens – truly delicious. A cheese platter, with a washed rind soft cheese, a Shropshire blue and a hard sheep’s cheese and a beautiful bunch of grapes was next on the menu, then ice cream and fresh raspberries for desert, with a late harvest wine followed by coffee.  We finally staggered to be about 115am – and had chatted and laughed all night.

We fell into bed and I swear, it felt like we were sleeping on a cloud – and we slept very soundly until it was time for breakfast the next morning.  So spoilt!

Friday 10 July: Edenwater to Gloucester

We knew today would be a big driving day – Edenwater in Ednam is 30mins southwest from Berwick which is on the coast. Gloucester is almost on the Welsh border, so we were up and gone by about 930am (after a good cooked breakfast – thanks again Jacqui!)

We travelled down past some  of Hadrian’s Wall, and then turned southwest to travel across the Pennines – a beautiful mountain range that I remember reading about in Enid Blyton books like the Secret Seven and Famous Five when I was younger! We stopped at a lovely little pub for a bit to eat about 1230pm, it was by a river and I can’t quite remember the township’s name but the pub was The Elk’s Head, and there we caught up on the latest news on the News Of the World scandal. You may have heard about it – it is alleged that some reporters on Rupert Murdoch’s News of the World (NoW – and the biggest selling newspaper in the world apparently) has been accused of hacking into the mobile and land line phones of a number of people. This of course has happened before – you may remember a very intimate and personal conversation between Prince Charles and Camilla Parker-Bowles as she was then, being broadcast, but a blind eye has been turned to the practice since then. Well a young 14 year old girl disappeared in about 2002, and apparently a private investigator hacked into her phone and deleted messages during the police investigation into her disappearance, giving her family, and the police, hope that she was alive (apparently they deleted messages because the voicemail  was full and they were trying to get a copy of the any of the personal messages being left by her family). A truly heinous activity and one that has blown up completely now that it has been discovered that thousands of phone numbers have been discovered, from the McCanns (whose daughter Madelaine disappeared in Portugal); to the royal family; to the families of soldiers killed on duty in Afganhistan and Iraq; to the families of those killed in the London terrorist bombings of 7/7/05 – and of course a number of so called celebrities.

Murdoch closed the paper and  the last issue was last Sunday 10 July , but the bigger piece of pie he is interested in is full control of BSkyB – and this looks like it might have put the kybosh on that. Yay I say!!!

Anyway, we were in The Elk’s’ Head weren’t we? A nice light lunch and then we set out and heard on the radio that the M6, and then later the M5, were turning into car parks due to some serious accidents. No problem we thought, we’ll just take an A road rather than an M road. Well I swear this added another three hours to our trip – not helped that we missed a sign in Wigan (because a bus was parked across it) that directed us to the correct road and ended up circumnavigating Wigan twice – and you know what? Wigan is just not that interesting!

So back on the A49, but it was Friday afternoon, and traffic was horrendous wherever we went, so we just coped really!  We aimed for Shrewesbury, and thought a quiet investigation of Brother Cadfael land would be fun the next morning, but Shrewesbury was just booked out – no-one could tell us why, so on we ploughed until we found a little place called Craven Arms,  and a lovely little pub called Stokesay Castle Hotel.

The first thing we noticed was the smile Harriet gave us on arriving. After 11+ hours travelling we really welcomed that greeting! They had rooms available – even better! And food was still on and the bar was open – it just couldn’t get any better could it?

Well, how about a French chef in the kitchen, who made the best croque monsieur that Renoir has ever had – in or out of France! And the French Onion soup – I have never had anything like it, real  farmhouse style with great lumps of bread and melted cheese on top (my pills are working a treat!)

It was just wonderful to stop – we took over a table that could seat 6, and read the paper, had a drink, enjoyed dinner and just generally relaxed until time to sleep, a quiet room and a comfy bed.

Saturday 9 July – Craven Arms to Gloucester

We awoke and were downstairs for breakfast about 730am. Steve, host and hotelier, prepared brekkiw and we both had something light, and spent the morning updating various travelogues and downloading pictures etc..  He was also kind enough to let us use his laundry – it was only one load but it makes all the difference to be able to keep on top of the washing when travelling the way we are – there is nothing appealing about spending a half or most of a day in a Laundromat in some little city or town when there is exploring to be done!  

We weren’t able to check into the Travelodge in Gloucester until 3pm, and were reluctant to get to Gloucester to look around because we didn’t want to accidently come across Christine, Renoir’s cousin and the reason we were in Gloucester at this point in our trip.

We checked in and I crashed for about an hour and a half, while Renoir went to check out the local area. We stayed at Gloucester Quays, which is where the long boats (like canal boats) are all kept and is an old docks area that has been reinvigorated with high density house and outlet shops, and they’ve done a beautiful job, utilizing all the old warehouses to maintain the history, but make the area more contemporary.

We were due on the King Arthur about 7pm, and were a tiny bit late but not enough to spoil the surprise. Jim had organized this wonderful two level long boat, complete with bar and dining downstairs, and music and dancing upstairs – and the weather stayed fine!  

We travelled up the river Severn (pron seven) starting in the loch. The River Severn is tidal, and is the site of the longest surfboard ride on record!  Much dancing and drinking and fun was had, and Christine and Jim’s family and friends were very welcoming, so a good time was had by all (and mostly Christine who was very surprised – always nice when a surprise works isn’t it!)

We docked about 1015-ish and all made our way home, with many of us catching up for the ‘official’ bbq the next afternoon.

Sunday 10 July: Gloucester

Ok, ok, I admit it, I am unable to stay next to an outlet complex without having to go shopping. In my defence I will say that I deliberately didn’t pack things that I would  need in warmer weather because a) we knew our bags were over-weight when we left Brisbane,  b) I knew I wouldn’t need warmer things until later in the trip (and when you consider we got snowed on in Stockholm I wasn’t far wrong!) and c) I know I buy new things! But I was reasonably restrained, and bought either things I don’t already have at home or things that will be replacements. That is my story and I am sticking to it!

We did have ‘the great glasses hunt’ first thing tho. Renoir realised on Saturday night when we got home that his reading glasses must have falled out of his jacket pocket on the boat – so first thing he went to the docks to find the boat and see if any one was aboard. No such luck. Then I looked for his spare pair in the car – no luck. Then he looked in the suitcases – no luck. Eventually the spare pair was found in the car – and this was after we had both searched – so both of us were suffering from domestic blindness! Any even better, his new pair were found the previous  night and were returned to him when we arrived at the bbq later that day.

We got to Christine and Jim’s new home about 3pm and gave Chrissy her birthday gift. We had wanted to get her something very Australian, and on our way back from the Discworld Convention had found a really pretty opal. As well, unfortunately all her jewellery had been stolen earlier this year, so we had a ring that had belonged to Flora, as well as the opal, for her gift. And then Renoir did something that only he could think of – he bought her a title – she is now a Lady of Lochabar! (He is a laird, and I am also a lady!).

Lochabar is a Scottish land holding that, some years ago fell on hard times. It is a massive tract of land that holds custody of the most ancient forests in the UK, and some amazing wildlife. So to help preserve its heritage, the owners sell off small plots of land – these are about 3metres square. You get a title – and its official, you can change all your official documents if you want to, and fishing rights to certain parts of the river. She was delighted!

Given the drive the next day (Gloucester to Oban) we thought a reasonably early night a good idea and returned to the hotel about 630pm for a good sleep and a reorganization of packing.

We do this regularly – go through what clothes we might need every few days and pack these into a small carry bag, and leave the large suitcases in the car. This saves lugging the big stuff in and out of the car all the time and is working a treat!

Monday 11 January – Gloucester to Oban

There’s not a long you can say about a long drive up the M5 then M6 other than, mercifully, it was accident free and we didn’t need to explore any A roads. The trip was about the same distance as the previous Friday, but only took us two thirds the time!  We didn’t drive all the way to Oban, as we passed Glasgow late in the day and, even though driving that far was possible, it may have proved difficult a) finding accommodation and b) we wanted to make sure we got to eat dinner.

We finally pulled over the night in a gorgeous little town called Lochearn Head – the villageof Loch Earn, and the head of the loch! The pub was right across the road, and the hills soar up on the other side, with houses nestled in the glens at the bottom. It was green, green, green and the clouds were settling on the top of the hills an drifting in and out of them – it was just divine.  

The pub folk were friendly and the food wholesome. Salmon again for me (I miss my fish’n’chips nights!!!) and chips (again, just a few but pubs over here do the BEST chips!) and Renoir went native straightaway – chicken breast stuffed with black pudding, wrapped in bacon and baked. The gravy was so good he even ate a vegetable so as not to miss it! The only downside was a group comprising two families who felt the need to spread themselves variously across three different tables throughout the evening and despite the place being nearly empty they boisterously sat next to us, disturbing our quietude.

Still, the room was comfy, Renoir was able to have black pudding (which I tried – it’s like a coarse pate) and potato cakes for brekkie the next morning, before we headed off to Oban.

Fri 1 July at Jax's place to Wed 5 July in Washington

Friday, 1 July: I won’t bore you all with the drama about collecting the car a day late (regardless of letting the agency know this would be the case) – all I will say is I will never use the broker CarTrawler again!

We finally got on the road and the three of us motored off to our dear friend Jacqueline’s place in the south east in a lovely little place called Lindfield. We arrived mid-afternoon and did a lot of catch up. Later that evening we went to the Witch – and the food was fabulous (do you see a theme here!). Jax, Renoir and I all had the scallops for starters, and we all had a burger in various stages of burger-ness (ie I didn’t eat the bread and Renoir eschewed all the salad-y things!) A couple bottles of a really lovely Temperanillo  and spent a fun evening swapping mad travel stories! And then, something I love about England, we were able to walk home, so no-one got stuck with driving.

Saturday 2 July: and an early start to the Sainsburys (the local supermarket) to buy the food for the evening’s dinner party. With eight for dinner we stocked up, 3 chickens to roast, pumpkin for soup, loads of veggies, and desert. Our menu was simple: curried pumpkin soup (prepared by Steve); roast chicken (2 of which were stuffed by yours truly), loads of veggies, an original style toad in the hole by Renoir; and a cheats version of lemon meringue-pie by me, all  accompanied by fab wine. It was one of those nights where the conversation flowed effortless, there was loads of laughing and storytelling, and multiple conversations happening at once. We were all amazed when the guests  said they were leaving and it was after 1am – they’d arrived at 730pm and the time had absolutely flown!

At this point I have to say a VERY BIG THANK YOU to Jax from both Renoir and myself for putting us up (or putting up with us!) twice – before and after our cruise.

Sunday 3 July: off on the UK part of our adventure! We were on our way to York, which is on the east coast of England. Renoir figured it would be a 5 hour drive so leaving about 10am gave us plenty of time to get there.

We allowed ourselves to get waylaid by the Cambridge University Botanic Gardens (there is that garden theme again!) They were featured in a magazine I had bought for their winter foliage, but they were just beautiful in the summer too. We even found a Wollemi Pine! We wandered through their gardens, around the lake, into the greenhouse (where we had a  little bit of Brisbane humidity to remind us what summer at home is like!).

We only intended to spend about 45 mins  there but we enjoyed that glorious garden for over an hour before we moseyed back to the car to resume our journey.

We arrived in York about 530pm and easily found the Travelodge. Now the Travelodge is no Hilton, but it is clean, has tea making facilities, and is in the middle of town.  Although they didn’t offer parking, we could use the parking station nearby and get a discount, so after unloading the car we parked the car and wandered this wonderful old town.

York is another of the walled cities of England. It was overrun by Vikings many times, and its history is alive in every street and even in almost every building in the old town.  The sun doesn’t set until after 930pm, and everyone was out promenading on the bridge across the Ouse (pron Ooze!) river, around the town and enjoying the weather – apparently it can get bitterly cold in winter.

About 7pm we wandered into a bottle shop that was the downstairs component of the House of the Trembling Madness, purportedly the oldest mediaeval banquet hall in York. It was all whitewashed and dark beams, everything at a weird angle because of its age, and loads of stuffed animal heads on the wall (which neither of us like particularly but it is all part of the history). We enjoyed a drink, then ordered dinner; an ale & beef pie for Renoir (which was a bit spoiled by being very peppery) and a ham and cheese ploughman’s plate style dinner for me.   It was a tiny, and very lively place, with many students (some of them American); and families as well as young couples on dates – a lovely microcosm of the town!

We continued our walk – fortunately the shops were of course all closed or we could have done some serious damage in the second hand book store! A brief stop in a pub Renoir had visited before – the Yorkshire Terrier – saw him have 4 one third pints of a choice of the beers they had on top, me a sparkling water – and some live music helped us while away some time, very relaxing, before moseying back to the hotel.

Monday 4 July: York: A quick brunch and a visit to the Jorvick Viking musem. All I can say is WOW! We kept expecting to see evidence or references to Vikings when in Scandinavia and saw very little – but now we were totally in Viking territory. The Jorvick museum has marvelous exhibits. You started by walking over Perspex that protects an existing excavation. Then we moved into a ride of sorts, where we sat in a capsule, and listened through headphones set into the back of the seat tell us the story of what we were seeing. The exhibit was set up as though we were passing through a Viking village in York – complete with the street names like Copper Gate where we had walked that morning (Copper Gate was where they made cups/mugs etc). There were human, not puppet, more like animatronics, where they had facial expressions, and moved a bit, like they were real. We travelled through their homes, their markets, saw and heard them argue and trade – we even saw an example of a chap on the loo – and he wasn’t happy! Everyone, including the kids, drank beer because the well was very close to the loo in their backyards so the water was unclean.

Other exhibits included a skeletons that had been unearthed – and these had been assessed by osteo-archeologists who were able to give a summary of their bone health. One of the female skeletons had been suspended in a display case, and this was overlaid by a laser description of their bone health, and the overlaid was an example of her clothes – the fabric, the colour and dyes, the ornaments such as glass beads. More exhibits included specific trades, such as leather making, or an example of a home –and both these had a video where an actor played the part of the leather maker or home maker – all these really brought to life how the Vikings lived.

After the Jorvick we wandered through to the markets – yes I do love markets – it always gives me a great way of getting an idea of the fabric of a town. Then off to fill in some time before a Viking walking tour where we came across the prettiest little 13 century church called Holy Trinity. It was incredibly beautiful, with recreated stained glass windows, and a fabulous history. 

Then off to our tour hosted by SP Grey – a children’s author who does many tours a week depending on the time of year. We were very lucky there were fewer than a dozen people – many of these tours have up to 50 people and of course you can’t hear a thing! And his knowledge of the Vikings was phenomenal – rather than just give us facts he structured things in story form and really made they Viking invastions and Saxon defence come alive.  

After the tour, we explored the city further, some of the burbs to enjoy the mixture of local architecture; and then visited Lendals Cellars – a wonderful old pub set up on the site of one of the original priories of the city, and the main part of the bar in a beautiful cellar complete with brick arched ceilings. One drink and off again, this time to enjoy the sunset off the bridge over the river Ouse (where I got a couple of lovely pix of Renoir).  We explored the option of a drink in the local Russian bar/restaurant (called Revolution) but the inside was too much loud techno, and the outside was full of smokers – so we moseyed on and came upon a lovely little church called St Martins, which we had to ourselves.

St Martins has had a tumultuous history, it’s been a Catholic, Protestant, and Catholic again, and was nearly destroyed by bombing in WWII, but there has been some amazing restoration work done and it is now  church open to all Christians no matter their faith. One of the things I loved about this church was the new organ which had been donated by a German city – which kind of closes the loop quite nicely. We really enjoyed the quietude and investigating the decorations (always on the look out for a Green Man – which I have managed to find) we were finally hounded out by three vodka-fuelled women who were giggling and loud and totally spoiled the peacefulness of our visit.

By this stage the sun had set, so even though the city was still alive it was time to head back to the hotel, as we were off to Washington the next day (yes Washington -George Washington’s family took their name from this town – and you can visit his ancestor’s home), and meeting some of Renoir’s extended family – Gill’s aunt and cousin – for afternoon tea.

Tuesday 5 July: Such a shame we missed being in Washington yesterday, as being the 4^th of July there were celebrations to be had. Still, I wouldn’t’ have missed York for anything, and am really looking forward to returning and seeing so much more of the town.

We headed up the road to Washington. Taking a comfort stop ‘Scotch Corner Services’ (‘The Services’ very regular along the M roads) we fancied a bite to eat, but thought we could do better than a packaged sandwich we moseyed into the little town of Middleton Tyas (pron Tie-as). Ah, English pubs – I just love ’em.  The Shoulder of Mutton personified all the best things about an English pub - the welcome, the warmth of spirit, the chat, the food! We shared three entrees – a herbed baked Camembert, scallops cooked in butter and parsley and pate – it’s been a long time since I had tasted pub food that good. And the bar maid described the ghosts that were in the pub and curiously how she used to live upstairs and never saw ghosts but started seeing them when she moved out! A truly delightful break in very easy journey.

Then off to Lumley Castle – a magnificent mediaeval castle that now operates as a hotel and guest house. We met Gill’s aunt Carol, her partner Ian, daughter Vicki and Vicki’s two littlies Eddie (3) and Josie (nearly 2) for afternoon tea in the garden. What a delightful  afternoon – chatting non-stop catching up on news, sharing stories, watching the kids climb over and under things. The weather eventually sent us indoors for a little while to finish our tea, and then the rain stopped long enough for us to enjoy a walk along the golf course adjacent to the castle with Carol’s much loved Boris (Labrador/Rottweiler cross and Ruby, newly rescued greyhound). Thanks to Carol, Ian and Vicki for being such gracious and friendly hosts and giving us a shot of family love and support

We stayed in another Travelodge on the motorway – a cruisey evening allowing us time to catch up on travel diaries and planning the route to take us to Berwick the next day.