Are we sitting comfortably?
The castle above is actually a hotel.
At a £100 a night it feels like a missed bit of fun and my dad and I should have pushed the boat out. How many chances are you going to get to try that?
If I'd been with a woman I would've done it in a second, but then again I tend to do stupid things when I'm with a woman.
It would've have been cool and fun.
Chick or no chick.
If you want the place's details shoot me an email.
The Priory below sits cheek by jowl to Hadrian's wall. It's still used for worship but I can't think of who prays there being as its in the middle of fields full of sheep.
So nice I took the pic thrice. ..............Read on Knave.
OK, another old church. This one was built in the 13th century and has some interesting tombstones. The village had some other relics of the past as well.
Dear me that was a bit smarmy.
The village of Haltwhistle calls it self the dead centre point of Great Britain and proudly proclaims it's latitude and longitude to prove it. Besides the beautiful old church, its strategically positioned for walkers to head for the wall and as such has no shortage of bed and breakfasts. We stayed at Hall Meadows, a lovely house. Two rooms :£70 and a hearty breakfast cooked to order.
Haltwhistle is a border town and in a region once known as "the debatable lands".
This means it was in a fluid zone of control between England and Scotland.
The last hanging in the village came as a result of a girl marrying a Scot, at the time a treasonable offense.
Marriage as a crime. Makes you think.
Certain buildings in the village were designated "Defensible Houses". They were at strategic points and designated strongholds much like a keep in a castle.The English notables would retreat there and fight off the barbarians when they conducted their raids. A refuge from pillage now "an award winning bistro". Unlike the Romans 2000 years before, the English stuck around and eventually subdued the kilted hordes. They conquered this wild land and opened bistros serving slabs of pate the size of bread loaves to sate the appetite of Birkenstock clad Australians blowing their redundancy money, babbling away about the relatives in the old country, making me want to commit carnage with a butter knife (a short boring story which will remain resolutely untold).
I started the week with my kid, sister, nieces and parents in Belfast at a cottage my parents rent when they come to visit.
It was a day trip for me and Jess and it tired the both of us out but a blast was had by all.