Our Trip Blog

The Events of Monday, May 30, 2011

                With trepidation I pulled the door closed and heard the door lock click. This scene repeats itself every time we check out of our self-catering accommodations. At some point we need to leave and lock the door behind us, often locking the keys inside. But did we leave anything else inside? That is the question that always haunts me. In Barcelona, Spain, Jim almost left his backpack in the apartment. In Ireland, Abby almost forgot her monkey and Ben the computer mouse. The near miss in Northern Ireland had the most potential for embarrassment, because we almost left some bras drying in the shower. And Caitlin almost left her iPod in Scotland. Today, as the door closed, I had the nagging feeling that I had forgotten to check something. As I descended the stairs it hit me. I didn’t check the drying rack.

                So far only two of our accommodations have had a dryer. This means everything must be put on a drying rack. These have varied greatly in size and stability. Our Edinburgh flat had the most unique set up yet. The drying rack consisted of seven 12’ long one-by-twos, arranged four inches apart, in an arch, supported by two braces. Attached to these braces was a rope and pulley system that allowed the drying rack to be pulled to the height of the 12-foot ceiling. The drying rack was located in the kitchen, right above the table. Yet, when it was drawn up to the ceiling, even full of clothes, we were unaware we were dining under drying unmentionables. Last night I asked the kids to lower the rack and fold and pack all the clean clothes. However, in my check of the apartment I had forgotten to look up when I checked the kitchen. Was the drying rack empty? When I asked the kids they allayed my fears. We had not forgotten anything. Whew. 

                Today’s endpoint was to be the Yorkshire Dales in northern England. However, first we had to get through Hadrian’s Wall. Once stretching 73 miles across the narrowest stretch of northern England, Hadrian’s Wall was a formidable obstacle to invaders from the north. Built in the early 2^nd century, during the reign of Roman Emperor Hadrian, it was an effort to consolidate Rome’s boundaries. Lined with castles, gates, turrets and forts, today the surviving chunks of wall are full of history. Our first stop was Housesteads Roman Fort, the best-preserved segment of the wall. Arriving at lunch time we found a table protected from the wind and managed to eat our lunch without it all blowing away. We had to pull out the umbrellas briefly, but the rainstorm passed almost as quickly as it had arrived.

                After lunch we headed uphill, through sheep pastures full of frisky, cute lambs, to the museum and remnants of the fort. The museum gave an overview of the fort which was built right up to and incorporated Hadrian’s Wall. Several exhibit boards depicted the shape and design while others delineated what once stood here: a commander’s home, headquarters, barracks, hospital, latrines, and civilian settlement. In France when we visited Pont du Gard, the museum there had an excellent exhibit of the waste management systems of Roman houses. In one diagram of the Housesteads Roman Fort commander’s headquarters, I found that it utilized a similar system. The commander’s home had a latrine with a designated urinal and a raised floor and duct system to heat the house. The set-up of the communal latrine for the foot soldiers was also depicted in diagram. Now it was time to see the actual stones of history.

                Climbing further up the hill we were soon walking and climbing over stone – stone that was hundreds of years old. Several times during this trip we have had the opportunity to reach out and touch history. Today we trod where the ancient Romans trod. It is awesome and humbling at the same time. Following the signs we soon found the commander’s home. Pillars filled the room with the elevated floor and we saw the stone duct system that carried the warmed air throughout the building. Abby delighted in walking on the remains of the elevated floor. I saw the beginnings of a channel and followed it through the remains. Suddenly it hit me. I knew what I was looking at and, perhaps a little too loudly, called out, “Look guys! I found the urinal!” After laughing loudly at my gaffe, my family gathered around to see why I was so excited.

                Next we climbed and walked along Hadrian’s Wall. The wall stretched in either direction as far as the eye could see. It was formidable: ten feet thick and, in its heyday, fifteen feet tall. We explored the complex further. At the East Gate, we found grooves in the stones left by wagons and chariots. These grooves and the raised stone between them were similar to those we saw in the ancient city of Pompeii. The kids were thrilled to see here what they had seen in another ancient ruin miles away in Italy. We all are slowly grasping the extent of the Roman Empire. Excited by this find we searched the remains of the civilian settlement for evidence of the shops we had seen in Pompeii. No luck. However, the other big highlight was the communal latrine. The latrine is rectangular with deep ditches around the perimeter. The water channels here are clearly evident. Wooden benches were built over these ditches. In front of the benches is a smaller rectangle with troughs running down the long sides. These troughs were part of the “toilet paper” of the day. After completing his business, a soldier would dip his sponge on a stick in the water running in this trough and clean himself. At each end of the rectangle as a large stone basin filled with water for general washing. Fascinating stuff.

                Returning to the car, we drove on, along Hadrian’s Wall to the next Milecastle, Birdoswald Roman Fort. Here we were in for a special treat. Today the massed ranks of the world famous Ermine Street Guard was going to be on hand, acting as the imperial Roman army. Demonstrations of their training, combat skills, battle tactics and artillery fire power were to take place all day. We arrived just in time for the last performance. While we waited, we viewed the placards and learned the history of this Roman fort and the successive buildings raised here after the Roman withdrawal.

                Then we heard them. Calling out a march cadence, the Roman army approached en masse. Colorful and fully armed, they were a sight to behold. As they gathered on the grounds before us, one Roman soldier picked up a microphone and congratulated us on seeing the one performance that weekend that was not taking place in a wind or rain storm.  Next he called forth the different ranks of soldiers and explained their uniform and weaponry. After this were several demonstrations of battle tactics, including a wall formation, a “V” formation, and a turtle formation where, using their curved shields overhead, the group forms an impenetrable mass to storm a castle. The battle demonstration ended with a charge of very fierce Romans beating their swords on their shields and then running straight at the crowd, yelling and screaming. It was easy to see how the untrained Celts with their staves and axes were no match for this professional army.

                Subsequently, the Roman army demonstrated a variety of artillery fire-power.  A trebuchet, an onager and a ballista, as well as an archer, were displayed. The trebuchet launched stones, (today wooden balls) great distances. The crowd oohed and ahhed as the projectiles disappeared over a far off ridge in the direction of the sheep pasture and car park. Next was the ballista, a giant crossbow, launching giant wooden darts with iron tips.  A wooden “army” set up across the field from the artillery served as the targets. The ballista’s first shot nailed an unfortunate wooden soldier right in the chest. The final apparatus was the Onager, Greek for “kicking mule”. This was the largest catapult and also launched stones. Today, wooden balls were used. Shot once along a flat trajectory, the Onager managed to take off part of a wooden soldier’s head – that’s some kick from a mule! On the far side of the field a lone archer methodically decimated the rest of the wooden army. Arrows sunk into chests, heads and groins, and still the army would not be felled. After the Romans saluted Caesar, the demonstration was over, but the crowd was invited back to the barracks to examine Roman army paraphernalia and to ask questions.

                Just inside the door of the exhibit room was an Onager. Ben and Jim were discussing the finer points of its construction and examining its mechanics when one of the reenactors approached. He answered their questions and explained the weapon in great detail. It was fascinating to engage him in conversation and we all listened eagerly. We found out that this particular regiment, due to their authenticity, has been filmed twice by American film makers. They have performed all over Europe. Often they launch melons or cabbages. When we asked about misfires or accidents, we heard a few stories of their misadventures. Once a cabbage went over a hedge and through the windshield of a car; however, the owner acknowledged the fault was his as he had parked in a clearly marked no parking zone. In another misadventure, a wooden ball went through the roof of a house. Luckily, the roof belonged to the organizer of the event and he recognized it was an accident since the ball was caught by the wind and carried off-course. The funniest story was what happened to a gentleman in Spain. This gentleman repeatedly refused to obey the Spanish authorities’ insistence that he move from a wall where he was watching the demonstration, saying, “I’m too far away. They will never reach me.” Moments later a melon whizzed a foot from his head, hit the wall, and exploded, covering him in melon mush. He was very lucky. Fully satisfied with our day exploring Hadrian’s Wall, we climbed back in the car and headed for the Yorkshire Dales.

                As we drove we listened to two Rick Steves podcasts. One was about how to speak and understand British English and the other was about writing travel journals. In the second we were affirmed that we were doing several things right in our blogging, but we also were reminded of a few things to keep in mind while writing. Most notably we were reminded to remember our audience and to avoid blow-by-blow, moment-by-moment commentary. With this lesson in mind we filled the next portion of the drive with another blog critique session. Almost immediately we ran into trouble. The blog on the hot seat went into meticulous detail about the choice of clothing for the day. A question was raised – and for whatever reason it tickled my funny bone and I started laughing, and laughing, and laughing, and laughing. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and soon the entire car (with exception of the blog’s author) joined me. Eventually we had to call a halt to the blog critique session as we were unable to accomplish anything productive.

                After stopping for a brief break to rotate seats and change drivers, we set off to look for a bank. We searched the GPS for an ATM on our route and only one option appeared. This wasn’t surprising given that we were driving over the countryside of the Yorkshire Dales. Here cows and sheep and stone walls vastly outnumber people and buildings. Soon the GPS directed us off the beaten path toward a town called Giggleswick, an appropriate name for our afternoon. Then we were led to Settle, an even smaller town of stone buildings and narrow streets. The bank on the GPS was closed, but Caitlin spied an ATM a few doors down and Jim was able to withdraw the cash we would need for tonight’s landlord. We followed the GPS directions out of town. Surprisingly, we found ourselves not headed back to the main drag, but being led further into the hills and dales of the countryside. It’s been so much fun to get “lost” during our travels. We see sights and enjoy adventures that continue to make this trip the experience of a lifetime.

                As we left the town, the road immediately became a single track lane, a narrow lane only wide enough for one car, with imposing stone walls on either side. We climbed and climbed, and beneath us the beauty of the Yorkshire Dales’ rolling green hills just opened before us. However, I couldn’t take much time to view the scenery. Driving this rollercoaster of a road, in a stick shift, demanded my complete attention. The road would climb steeply to a blind crest, and then just as I made the crest, it would suddenly drop away, banking left. At the end of that curve would be another blind crest, another sudden drop only this time curving to the right. I glanced over and noticed Jim holding on to the overhead handle for dear life. I was constantly changing gears and praying that a car wasn’t coming around the blind curve ahead. Lindsey remarked that if I just watched the GPS, I would know which way the road was turning. That was true, but the GPS isn’t 3-D and I needed to be alert for all the dips and blind crests.

                Suddenly, the kids remarked, “You were supposed to turn there.” Oops. Now what? The road was so narrow and ahead it looked like it became narrower. So I backed up 30 feet, which was no small feat. All the luggage and junk in the back makes the rearview mirror useless, so I had to depend on my side mirrors and the sun was reflecting off the driver’s side mirror in such a way that it was basically useless. Soon I was able to get turned around and we headed in the right direction. Then Caitlin shouted, “There it is! Turn here!” So I turned up a curved gravel driveway and pulled to the side behind two other vehicles. Jim and Caitlin disembarked to find the owner. Shortly thereafter, Caitlin returned and waved to me to drive forward. One small problem: I was parked on a hill, on loose gravel, in a stick shift, in a fully loaded vehicle. Every time I tried to go forward, I slipped back and the wheels spun helplessly in the gravel. The Renault has front-wheel drive, and, with all the luggage weighing down the back, there was not enough weight on the front tires to get the necessary traction to move forward. I indicated to Caitlin that I was stuck, and she relayed the message to Jim. Jim returned to the driver’s seat and coasted backward down the slope until he got the traction he needed to move forward.

                Jim pulled forward and out a gate, headed halfway up the block and pulled into another gate that our landlady opened for us; before us stood … the Tower. For weeks Caitlin suppressed her excitement that our Yorkshire Dales accommodations were in a tower. Eager to see more, we all piled out. Our landlady, Mary Hurst, led us through the bottom of the tower and took us on a tour of the house. Our accommodations here are substantial. There are three full bathrooms, two with a shower and one with a bathtub. Each room has its own connected bathroom. The kitchen was large with ample counter space and the family room boasted a huge flat screen TV (with DVDs and DVD player), two leather and corduroy couches, and a plush armchair.

                Since Caitlin is our tour guide for England she has been corresponding with our host asking for recommendations to find a tea room and the best Yorkshire Pudding. After sharing that her friend ran a tea room, our host responded she could make us Yorkshire Pudding if we so desired. She also offered to make us a Trifle, a sponge cake soaked in sherry, topped with fruit and pudding. However, we weren’t prepared for the extent of her generosity. Not only was the kitchen fully stocked with staples – cereal, milk, OJ, bread, butter, jam, peanut butter, cheese, and meat. There was also a plethora of desserts in containers sitting on the counter. She had made these just for us. There was a chocolate coffee cake, which, she shared, is usually made with whiskey, but she used only a small amount of a different liqueur since kids would be eating it. In another container were fudge; English Toffee Crispies (rice crispy treats made with toffee instead of marshmallow); flapjacks (a granola-looking but cookie-tasting treat); and Millionaire cookie bars, with shortbread on the bottom, then pudding and topped with chocolate. In the refrigerator was the trifle. Colorful layer upon colorful layer, it was a feast for the eyes. We thanked her profusely for her generosity.

                After she left, I closed the tower door behind her. It clicked shut, much like the door had this morning. Only this time I wasn’t filled with trepidation. Instead, I was filled with thankfulness and contentment. The accommodations were lovely, the countryside and scenery beautiful, and all our immediate needs were met. We were going to have a wonderful time in the Yorkshire Dales.