28 August 2016 - Bleatarn Farm, Irthington, near Brampton, Cumbria

The rain came in bucket loads through the night; I just hoped all those big round hay bales were tucked away in one of the farms massive barns before it commenced. The poor weather caused us to delay our departure this morning, placing great faith in the weather app on our phones which promised dry weather by 11am. We headed off to Carlisle soon after 10am, finding a park close to the Castle and the events there, also delayed by the rain.

Carlisle Castle

Carlisle sits strategically near the Scottish – English border and so has centuries of history, much of it violent and of a military nature. Its castle has seen more action that most similar structures in the United Kingdom; site of skirmishes with Elizabethan Border Reivers, a Civil War siege which became the longest siege in English history, and Bonnie Prince Charlie’s Jacobite Rising of 1745 – 46. For a short time, Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned here, although in better conditions than the Jacobite defenders later were. From the 1820s the castle became a permanently occupied garrison, and from 1873 to 1959 was the regimental headquarters of Cumbria’s County Infantry Regiment.

View over Carlisle from the Castle

There was a Roman fortress here back in the heyday of Hadrian’s Wall, but construction of the castle proper began during the 12^th century by King Henry I of England and was finished by King David I of Scotland, one of my many great grandfathers. Alterations were made through the centuries, and structures within the complex were demolished accordingly, such as the tower that Mary Queen of Scot was housed.

As we entered the castle walls today, we were first met with the sight of stalls dotted through the grounds, all part of the “Military Weekend at Carlisle”. Before we left, we wandered about seeking some kind of inspiration, and did pause for a while to watch and listen to a chap presenting a “Firing Demonstration and Uniform Talk”. Unfortunately he held the microphone too close to his mouth and we were unable to comprehend his otherwise well enunciated spiel. We left as he and his wife, dressed in World War II garb, (not at all flattering on her squat rotund figure) took to firing their weapons, the blasts bouncing round the walls and causing a family of small girls to burst into tears.

Army bits and pieces at the Castle

From the castle we walked on down to the town, now woken to the live band in the rotunda near the Old Town Hall. Today there were dozens of international food stalls from whence the most delicious and exotic odours flowed.

We thought Carlisle town quite lovely, and the cathedral all the guide books promised. Our arrival there coincided with the end of the morning service; the cauliflower headed congregation were still gathered in the rear of the church supping cups of tea and catching up with the week’s gossip with their fellow parishioners. We could have joined them but I would have felt a hypocrite. Instead we walked around the church avoiding the central parts so recently, and even partially still, occupied by Sunday worshippers. 

The Cathedral was founded in 1122 although there had been Christian celebration going on here before then. In the sixth century Christianity was established by St Kentigern, aka St Mungo, who became the first bishop and patron saint of Edinburgh. This red stoned cathedral is the second smallest in England; only Oxford cathedral is smaller.

Carlisle Cathedral

It was little after 1pm that we returned to the car park, and set off once more to explore. Our route took us north, six miles on the M6, across the Scottish border to Gretna Green. Everyone has heard of Gretna Green and think of this in connection with hasty marriages over the border, but the details were interestingly educational.

Gretna Green became a romantic haven for eloping young couples in 1754. England’s newly tightened marriage law prohibited couples, under the age of twenty one from marrying without approval from their parents. In Scotland it was much easier to marry. Couples began fleeing across the Scottish border to marry in the first building they reached, the famous Blacksmith’s Shop. It became renowned for on-the-spot weddings and the blacksmith swapped his role as a forger of metals that join together never to be separated, to a forger of couples joined in marriage, never to be parted. The anvil became the iconic symbol of romance.

In 1856, after more than one hundred years of anvil weddings at Gretna Green, a new tightly-worded English law caused upset in the romance capital of the world.  Lord Brougham’s “cooling off” Act ruled that at least one half of a couple had to live in Scotland for twenty one days before marrying. Whilst instant anvil weddings were no longer possible, the determined were not put off and many still many made the dramatic journey to Gretna Green, camping out or hiding in barns.

Carlisle market place

In 1886 farmer Hugh Mackie bought the Gretna Estate and its famous blacksmith’s shop. He was one of the first to develop such a tourist attraction, albeit a rather unique one. He resurrected the site as a wedding venue by persuading couples that a pre-wedding three week residency rule in Scotland should not dampen their enthusiasm for a romantic anvil marriage. Today the fourth generation of this entrepreneurial farmer run a vibrant tourist spot; a collection of hotels, restaurants, gift shops, a courtship maze, a museum and a wedding venue. 

We parked up in the car park next to a car boot sale taking place in the adjacent field, no doubt another offshoot of this thriving business. We wandered through the busy collection of buildings, and noted that none of the businesses required additional trade from us, the last of the big spenders.

Instead we hit the road again, ready for a tikki tour through the countryside, in and out of Scotland, up and over the hills to the north of Hadrian’s Wall, now south, then north east, south east, south west, up and over grazing country, and all very beautiful despite the fact that the clouds were still low enough to obscure the distant views of the higher peaks.

We detoured through Brampton, to check out the laundrette in person, my several telephone calls having been unanswered. The address was allusive, but the woman in the little Information Centre was most helpful; the laundrette had closed down a couple of years ago. I told her that the website and all the referring portals were still very much operational;  this was met with a very blank look. 

And so we took our big bag of dirty laundry home with us to be dealt with further along our route.

Late in the afternoon, Andrew’s father popped in to check all was well, but we were more interested to quiz him with twenty questions. They had managed to complete much of the harvest yesterday, although Andrew was not in good shape after having worked when he should not. The weather forecast and condition of the fields left the smallest windows of success, so they were hoping and praying (a figure of speech rather than the actual words that passed between us) for excellent weather for the rest of the week.

Apparently they run about 350 head of sheep and a similar number of cattle. When asked as to their shearing facility on site, he told me they employ a contractor who comes with his trailer and does his business outdoors. This is England! Outdoor shearing! This surely is a miracle!

When he disclosed his passion for flying, an activity pursued at the nearby airfield, Chris asked if the area had been subjected to WWII bombing. Interestingly Gretna had been targeted because there had been a munitions factory operating there. Left over bombs had been dropped here and there about to save the extra return weight. Our host had personally not been around to observe this; I would suggest he was born well after the war. 

We learned much more, because he is his son’s father, and Andrew certainly has the gift of the gab. Not that I minded but Chris had his mind on the dinner that needed to be cooked. His culinary skills rely much more on time and efficiency, which in turn results in far greater success than my more casual approach.