Jo’s Monday walk : An adventure with Gilly

The raw energy of a city is compelling, even if a little intimidating. Riding into Warsaw on the airport bus, my eyes were on stalks, collecting impressions on every side. Such a bustling, modern city, the buildings twisting and turning to point to the blue sky overhead. Anxiety was swept away by excitement. I was here! And I stepped from the bus into the warmth of Meg’s arms, those lovely eyes twinkling at me. All angst was neatly deposited in Meg’s backpack- my tour guide for a day, found!

Turning from her momentarily, the beaming smile of Gilly reached me from across the square, as she descended the steps of the Palace of Culture and Science, arm in arm with her friend Lindy. Gaggling like geese, we blindly followed Meg as she led us from the centre to a restaurant. Puzzling over the menu, we laughed when the wicker basket of knifes and forks arrived, bearing chopsticks in an elegant green wrapper. My efforts to eat my noodle laden broth produced more smiles, along with the slurps. Two thirds of the way through our meal, a mighty crash of thunder and coin drops of rain pounded our table. The wide, creamy umbrellas over the tables were scarcely adequate. More merriment and we scrambled indoors.

In no time, the sun was blazing through the open windows again. Meg was recovering from a heavy cold, and starting to wilt a little, having been tour guiding all day and shown the ladies lovely Stare Miasto in the morning. Lindy was struggling too, which left me and Gilly to get up to mischief. Arrangements were made for early next morning, and Meg deposited us at our hotel. A swift cuppa, and it was time to hit the streets. Already it was 6.30 on a warm Warsaw evening. Fortunately, Gilly was not at all critical of my reckless tour guiding style. Of course the bus would take us to the river! And so it did, with just a little walking involved.

The road stretched ahead, seemingly endless, the traffic buzzing past, the architecture varied and interesting. On the horizon we could see a stadium, which we knew to be on the other side of the river. Praga was not advisable after dusk, I was informed, but reaching the river the greater challenge was to get down to the riverside. With the agility of a monkey, Gilly swung around the barrier and scrambled along the bank, hand over hand along the railings. I followed, more sedately, concerned for my pretty, navy city shoes.

Nobody seemed to notice, and I was immediately at home, with a young crowd blithely enjoying the throng of beach bars, deck chairs and food stalls. Boats bobbed serenely, while overhead trams clanged past and bikes dominated the footpath.

Appetising smells beguiled my nose, but a drink seemed more pressingly urgent, in the sultry evening air. Dusk was beginning to fall, the warmth felt heavy with insects and an awareness that we were far from home. How to get back on the bridge presented something of a challenge, but I dared a few words of Polish and waved my arms at the bridge. The two young men politely gestured to where the steps were hidden. Gilly and I agreed that we would not have chanced it after dark.

What else? Hop another bus to take us nearer to the centre, a little judicious food purchasing and a bit of naughty jay walking. Subways can get tedious, can’t they? But please don’t tell. I’d hate to be in trouble with the authorities. The bottle top on my cider didn’t look promising, but it did unscrew. I had no spoon for the delicious yogurt though. Collapsed in my room with just my diary for company, I really didn’t care.

I hope you enjoyed our adventure. I really didn’t intend to post today, but realising that next Monday I will be on my way to the Algarve, and that I have a fine collection of your walks ready to share, I thought it best. Meantime, I’ll be off to see my daughter in Nottingham on Thursday. And yes, I did manage to get those tickets reprinted. Thank you all for your concern.

Where will we find Lady Lee this week?

In the country

A treat or two in store, from lovely Sherri. Anyone else get to the Bash?

Surprises, Diana’s Dresses and the Annual Blogger’s Bash 2018

A bargain ‘two for one’ from Anabel, and both just a short walk apart :

The Kelpies to the Falkirk Wheel

A glimpse of ‘that’ wedding and lots more food, from Jackie :

Beer Money

When Sue shows willing, you simply have to sit up and take notice :

A stroll around Chartwell

‘Join the fun!’ says Jesh. You know you want to :

Rounding up May

Suzanne delights me with fossils, shells and a little Autumn gold :

A walk to Shelly Beach

The end of Autumn

Calvi and Honfleur- two of the most scenic of places, shared by Drake :

Backdrop but scene too

The sunny side

Remember my lovely rhododendrons? Eunice has found me some more :

A quarry walk with a difference

And Carol turns up some interesting treasure of her own :

From Trash to Treasure

How do you think of New York? Jane’s wonderful photos show us it’s calmer side :

Hudson River Ramble

And a wonderfully scenic hike with Cathy ends in tears, but don’t worry- she’s ok!

The Mt. Sanitas hike in Boulder, Colorado

Not too very sure when I’ll be posting again. Life does seem a little hectic. Meanwhile, enjoy the sunshine, thanks for your company, and I’ll visit you all as soon as I can.

Anticipation and angst

I can’t remember a trip when I was quite so angst-ridden. I do angst very thoroughly, and most trips, unless it’s my beloved Algarve, as the date for departure approaches I lose sleep worrying over the ‘what ifs?’ In my head I’m a control freak, but reality is often far beyond my control.

Lake Czorsztyn in the Pieniny Mountains

I well remember being let loose by the Polish family in the Pieniny Mountains. A trip river rafting in the Dunajec Gorge was in the offing, but where to catch the bus? My other half always reads timetables meticulously and was unconvinced either that we were in the right place, or that the bus would turn up. This despite a visit to Tourist Information to enquire. ‘You’re the one who speaks Polish!’ he said, accusingly. If only this were so! The sun beat down, and we waited. And waited. Eventually a tiny minibus pulled to the curb, destination unknown. We looked at each other. This one? Fortunately a good-hearted, English speaking couple had witnessed our confusion. They were going hiking in the Gorge. “Come on! We’ll tell you where to get off.” Huge relief and, ultimately, one of my best ever days in Poland.

But I digress. What makes this particular trip so worrisome? I had always known that I would return to Dad’s homeland one day, even though Dad was no longer with me. The Polish family were so kind, and so accepting when we walked into their lives after all those years of absence. Dad was welcomed with open arms. Here I was, going back alone, and still without the benefit of Polish language, try as I might to make sense of it.

You might recall from My Call to Poland that I have elderly family. The need to see them is pressing, but I want to cause the least possible inconvenience. This means not flying into Kraków and expecting to be driven 3 and a half hours north to the family home, which is what always happened when Dad was alive. A wild notion had occurred to me. My lovely Australian friend, Meg, was back in Warsaw for 6 weeks. This might be an opportunity to see her again, however briefly. It all hinged on whether I could find transport from Warsaw to Bełchatów. When Gilly leapt, with gay abandon, onto the scene, announcing she had booked 3 days in Warsaw and was going to see Meg, it was just the catalyst I needed.

A sequence of emails took place. Kind Adam, in Kraków, declared that I was welcome in his home at any time. Lovely Jadzia in Bełchatów said that my timing was perfect to celebrate her birthday with her. Meg, more than generously, offered to put me up for the night on my arrival in Warsaw. I didn’t contact Gilly, hoping to surprise her. Now all I had to do was pore over online timetables. Endless timetables! Until my head hurt. It wasn’t simple, but finally I secured a prized bus ticket from a Russian company- the small print indecipherable.

And speaking of language, it was again time to seek out my ‘Colloquial Polish’. I started a course at a local college about 10 years ago and purchased the required book. The course was discontinued, due to funding, long before I reached the end of the book, but I did acquire a lasting friendship- another lady with a Polish Dad. Each time I have visited Poland I have started the book again, with renewed enthusiasm. Never have I reached the last page, but it has accompanied me proudly on each of my visits, and sat on the table as a declaration of intent. This time it must stay home as I need to travel light. A pocket dictionary will have to do.

Transferring from Bełchatów to Kraków is equally problematic. The train service I relied on has changed providers and disappeared. Buses go in random directions, sometimes taking as long as 13 hours. I could reach the Pacific in less time. Angst heightens. Meantime, Gilly asks questions about my visit. Nothing to do but confess and hope she won’t mind my gatecrashing her meeting with Meg. Assuming I can find them in the teeming metropolis.

And just as I’m about to embark on this journey, I discover that I’ve lost the coach tickets to visit my daughter in Nottingham, scheduled just days after my return from Poland! I can’t reprint them because I don’t have the ticket number. Much hunting and an email to the coach company. It can only get better? By the time you read this I should know the answer.

Meantime I’m linking to Cathy’s Anticipation & Preparation: Spain and Portugal in 2013 on Wander.essence. It holds many fond memories for me.

Six word Saturday

Shout it from the roof tops!

It’s June, and Becky’s back again with a brand new series of squares. Knowing how much everyone enjoyed the last series, I can’t help but feel I’ll be missing out, but I’m off to Poland tomorrow. Plac Zamkowy (Castle Square) in Warsaw will be my only contribution to Roof Squares for now, but I’ll be keeping a watchful eye on those roof tops.

No Monday walk next week, but I have a post scheduled for Thursday, when I hope to be on my way to Kraków with a fistful of happy memories. Apologies if my responses are slow. Till then, have a great weekend and don’t forget to share your Six Words with Debbie.

Jo’s Monday walk : A lady and a folly

We’ve got our work cut out today, but I hope you’ll enjoy it. We’re off to see a Northumberland garden with an Edwin Lutyens touch, but first I need to take you back in time. It’s a warm, muggy day, totally unlike my last visit here when the biting winds cut through me and hailstones peppered my umbrella.

I was meeting a lovely lady, a poet and a craft worker whom I’d many times chatted to on the blog. Though living in Brittany, Viv had a daughter in Northumberland and had suggested we might meet on one of her visits home. Her choice of venue was Northumberlandia, at that time newly opened to the public. In a particularly bitter March it wasn’t an inviting place, but the company was great and we valiantly struggled up the domes.

I wrote about that encounter with a smile on my face, little knowing that we’d never meet again. In July 2016, Viv died suddenly, and my thoughts were full of her when I returned, to a much sunnier Northumberlandia, last week.

I hadn’t planned to visit, but the garden I had come to see belonged to the Blagdon Estate, who donated the land for this project. The Ridley family have owned the estate since the 17th century, and Northumberlandia is in part an attempt to give back to the community some of the profits made through Shotton Surface Mine. The story of the landscaping is a fascinating one, but now I’m going to leave the lady sleeping quietly and turn my attention to the magnificent gardens, just across the road.

You know you are amongst the landed gentry when the drive sweeps past a private cricket pavilion, with perfectly manicured lawn. In the distance, russet coloured cows graze, the house sheltered from prying eyes by a stand of ancient trees.

Something entirely magical was about to happen. Strolling beside the beech hedges which run the length of Lutyens’ canal, a rustling suggested a presence beyond the hedge. Imagining the gardener not quite finished his chores in time for this Open Gardens event, I barely had time to register what was happening when out from the undergrowth burst a deer, in full flight mode. With a graceful leap, he was beyond the canal and disappearing again into the woods. I stood transfixed.

Nothing to do but continue into the formal garden, but I found it hard to concentrate. My eyes were trained on the woods beyond, watching for movement. Finally the walled garden distracted me. Hard to ignore a couple of the beauties there.

But the fun was just beginning. Behind a row of cottages, the Dene tumbles down to a stream. Wild garlic carpets the banks and, following the tangled path through the undergrowth, your reward might just be a jewel burst or two of colour.

The path continues beneath the bridge, rounds a corner and there before you is a stately old viaduct. A lovely fragrance surrounded me and I stopped to admire the vivid yellow blooms. A gentleman asks do I know what they are and, with reasonable confidence, I declare them to be azaleas. A lady disagrees, assuring us that these American rhododendrons are the only ones to have fragrance? Jude is my expert.

Through a gate designed to keep out rabbits, the quarry lies in wait. A sign declares that 6000 tons of stone were excavated in the 18th and 19th centuries to construct buildings on the estate. I love the way it has been turned over to nature, with just the odd quirk or two.

The gardens were extensively remodelled in the 1930s by Sir Edwin Lutyens, whose daughter Ursula was married to Matthew White Ridley, the 3rd Viscount Ridley. Some have stood the test of time, while other areas are a little unkempt. It must be an enormous task, taming a 27 acre estate such as this. One more treat in store, before we retire for that hard-earned cuppa in The Clockhouse . A figure of eight walk takes you around the lake and across the stepping stones. A chapel folly peeps through the trees, and in the distance a Grade II listed temple.

I hope you’ve enjoyed our walk this week, and I’m sorry if it was a little lengthy . There are some extraordinary photos of Northumberlandia you might like on the Blagdon Estate website.

No walk from me for the next 2 weeks, because I shall be in Poland and then visiting my daughter in Nottingham. I’ll try and keep up with you where I can. Meantime I have lots of lovely walks for you to browse. Many thanks to you all!

Lady Lee was very swift away this week :

Skywatch Kew Gardens

Melodie has some quite beautiful walks. I’ve selected this one because I haven’t done it and I love coastal walks :

Hike Whitehaven to St. Bees, Cumbria, UK

Suzanne finds a quiet corner of England for us to join her for a wander :

Neighbourhood Walks : Windlesham Arboretum

Debbie travels to the most interesting places, and we’re very lucky- she takes us along :

Arty Wanderings in Hongdae

Susan has a knack for taking me just where I want to be :

Walking Golden Gate Park, San Francisco

Short and sweet, with Janet :

Monday on the Riverwalk

Lots of recipes at Jackie’s place, in case you’re hungry :

Baked goods

You never know what you’re going to find at Jesh’s, and that’s part of the fun :

City Walk

Another city, and one that’s always full of action. Let Indra be your guide :

Hong Kong…..Walks

Fast or slow, you can’t go far wrong with Drake :

Quick steps in Strasbourg

I was followed recently by Tamar at Hike O Therapy. Doesn’t ‘a Cornish gardener hiking through Northern Spain’ sound interesting? Take a look!

Urkulu : A nature reserve and lake in the heart of the Basque Country

I have enormous respect for long distance walkers. This week I had the pleasure of meeting John, for a friendly drink. Cheers, John! :

Nimrod

Eunice has a scalded foot so walking must be painful, but still she takes us to a lovely spot :

A local walk to Smithills Hall

This one from Candy just scraped in before I hit the Publish button :

Serpa in the Alentejo

And this is a lovely way to finish, hand in hand with Pauline and Jack :

Surprises on the way home….

Enjoy your last day of the Bank Holiday if you’re in the UK, and to all of you, enjoy your walks! Take care till the next time.

Six word Saturday

A grey day on the Quay

On Tuesday our luck ran out on the north east coast, and grey replaced the blue. Was I down-hearted? Not at all! The Blacksmith’s Needle in forged steel still looked great, but when it started to rain I hot-footed it over the Millennium Bridge to Baltic Centre of Contemporary Art.

“Missing Time” by Serena Korda is inspired by the healing potential of sound and the Dark Skies of the Northumberland landscape. You are invited to sit on a chair and listen to ‘the sound of the stars’.

Idea of North explores the sense of community, place and collective belonging, connecting historical moments with individual stories. Partly inspired by Peter Davidson’s book, “The Idea of North”(2005), it poses some interesting questions. Debbie’s a little slow with her Six Words this week but I’m sure she’ll be along later. Meantime, enjoy her great photography and have a happy weekend!

A Bishop Auckland Revival

There’s a new bustle to Bishop Auckland these days, and it’s not before time. It’s been a sad little place for the last many years, but finally someone has taken pity on it and started to breath new life into the dejected streets. There’s still an impoverished look to the shops, in common with many of our high streets, but change is afoot. In the vanguard, No. 42 leads the way with it’s fiercely pointy roof. Describing itself as a gateway to both past and future, upstairs the Pod provides studio space to encourage artistic creativity. And look! The yarn bombers are about.

It all began with Auckland Castle, and a vision to turn it into a faith, art and heritage destination on an international scale. Jonathan Ruffer, Chairman of the Auckland Project, has never lacked for ambition, but what is being achieved in Bishop Auckland is remarkable. Back in 2014 I took you on a walk through the beautiful castle and grounds, with their distinctive Deer House. A highlight of the post was the story of the paintings by Spanish master, Francisco de Zurbaran. Auctioned for in excess of 15 million pounds, they were bought by Ruffer and the Trust he set up, to enable them to stay in Bishop Auckland. They are soon to feature in a state of the art Spanish Gallery, opposite the new Mining Museum, on Market Square. The castle is closed to the public and the gardens a bit of a mess until they reopen in December this year. Meantime Kynren, a spectacular action show, taking you through 2000 years of history, will enliven the grounds again this summer. I need to book a ticket.

The town isn’t lacking in history, having strong links with the Prince Bishops of Durham. Surrounded by the mining industry until its decline, the town was once a railway hub and has an enormous entry in Wikipedia, for those who might be interested. I’ll leave you with that happy chappy, Stan Laurel, who lived in the town as a child. “Another fine mess you’ve got me into”.

Speaking of which, I didn’t have my camera that day, and had to improvise with some shots taken on my phone. Scratches head! You’ll get a better look around, and a peep at the paintings, on my original Auckland Castle post.

Jo’s Monday walk : A Garden Extravaganza

This isn’t a walk so much as a wallow in flowers at an Open Garden event last weekend. I did propose a walk to nearby Witton Castle, but ‘someone’ was feeling lazy, so we opted to loiter instead. Hillside Cottages are in the quintessentially English village of Low Etherley, a few miles from Bishop Auckland, in County Durham. A look over the garden wall will show you the lie of the land. Calm and pastoral.

I love nosing around a garden. My plant knowledge isn’t huge, but I do enjoy identifying a friend or two. Small explosions of colour lure me into the borders. Rich plum, ‘poke you in the eye’ orange and soft pink mingle with the green.

There are two gardens, side by side, quite different yet so harmonious that the division between them is little more than a gap in the adjoining hedge, which I initially fail to spot. The first swathes gently down the hillside, beds and borders speckled with colour. The lady owner is obviously a lover of tulips, with all their nuances, subtle or flaunted. Poker straight or curling seductively.

I can hear the sound of pipes, and rounding a corner I come upon the culprits. I don’t pay them the attention that I should, because I am beguiled by the rhododendrons. In the most glorious colours, the sun sparkles through them, bathing me in radiance.

This is the very best time of year, and life burgeons all around me. I almost miss the delicate lemon magnolia, opening to the sun’s caress, high above my head. Tea is brewing, alongside an array of homemade cakes, but first we must round the pond and slip through the fence to next door.

A sense of humour prevails in next door’s garden, where another pond winks at me in the sunlight.

This garden feels much more enclosed, and you wander beneath tall pines, seeking out quirks and fantasies. By a summerhouse the owner lounges benevolently in a deck chair, chatting to some older ladies. Probably they supervised the baking.

Don’t you just love the dog’s expression? And what might these two gardens have in common? Wait for it…

Scintillating rhododendrons, of course! I’ve never been able to resist them. I hope you didn’t mind me taking it easy this week. This is the time of year when traditionally I share a few gardens with you. I have a much more energetic one lined up for next week.

Wait a moment, I can hear you saying… what happened to the cake? I can assure you that my rhubarb cake was moist and delicious, but there were no seats left, so I had to eat it perched upon a wall. Not conditions that are compatible with cake photography. Sorry!

Join me next time on Jo’s Monday walk? It will be a Bank Holiday in the UK, but I’ll still be out and about. After that I’ll be taking a break for my visit to Poland. Many thanks to you all for your walks and for your great company.

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Although I’m a sun worshipper, I love a moody sky. Enjoy a cliff top walk with Suzanne :

Standing vertical in the storm

Jackie never needs any encouragement to eat and drink. Join her for a cuppa?

Coffee Break

I’m offered all kinds of walks. Janet has some beautiful sculptures to share :

Monday walk… sculpture in old Scottsdale

And Drake, often one to surprise, takes us to a tobacco museum!

Smoke in the mountain

Adventures in sand, water and caves with Liesbet. This lady likes variety :

Highlights in Southern New Mexico – A Long Weekend Away

Or take a stroll with Pauline and Jack. They make such delightful company :

Out and about in Stanthorpe…

And speaking of delightful, a certain Mrs. Farrell has been busy on our behalf :

Following in the Footsteps of the Green Man

Denzil offers easy walking, not far from Brussels. Sounds good to me :

A walk around Leefdaal

It’s surprising what you can do, if you really try. Georgie was walking in a good cause :

Walking the Wight – how I walked 15 miles…

Meanwhile Eunice has taken a leaf out of my book this week, with a really beautiful Open Garden :

Hornby Castle Gardens

Finally, an Australian Autumn, where Rosemay finds what it takes to tire the grandbairn out :

Autumn at Araluen

Yet another lovely morning here! I’m starting to take it for granted. Let’s see if it holds for the Bank Holiday. Meantime, have fun, and take care. See you next week!

Six word Saturday

Spinning and spinning and spinning around…

There’s always Liquid to be found when you live on the coast, but it’s not every day you find a jet ski showing off inside the lock gates.

This view is a constant, though… so long as the sky is blue! Wishing you a happy day, whether you spend it watching Harry and Meg, outstanding tennis, the FA Cup final or none of those. The one thing you must do is share Six Words with Debbie.

The Roman Army Museum

Night watch

Here I am again! In this god forsaken place. Standing on the wall, staring into the darkness, and just waiting. Watching and waiting. Mind numbing, waiting.

Always this wretched cold! Biting into my bones and nipping my knees, a woollen cloak no defense against the real enemy. Boredom. Oh, for some action! Something to warm me up. I’d put paid to a barbarian or two. If only they’d storm the fort, like real men, instead of hiding in the trees. They wouldn’t stand a chance, against us trained soldiers. Training! That’s all we do. Day in, day out! Pitting our wits against each other to stay sharp, in the service of the Empire.

It’s fine for the Centurion with his fancy house. He never has to stand out here, shivering. I’m just an auxiliary. A slave to Rome. 25 years I have to survive this dog’s life, before I can become a Roman citizen. The days are not so bad. No time to think. At least you can have a hot bath and decent food. Maybe get out on a hunting party for some fresh meat. Even have a skirmish with some of those savages. Makes you feel alive, alright! Anything’s better than this creeping death from the cold and damp. The mocking whisper of the wind. Deathly stillness!

From Vindolanda we drove 15 minutes to the Roman Army Museum, close to the village of Greenhead, to learn a little more. A joint ticket can be purchased for the two, which compliment each other. A highlight of this visit is ‘Edge of Empire-The Eagles Eye’, an atmospheric 15 minute film, for which 3D glasses are worn. ‘Night watch’ was written in response to the film, of which I can only share the trailer.

At the museum I learn that it is Rosalia, the Roman festival of the rose, traditionally held in May. Curiously, the Romans believed that Mars, god of war and protector of Rome, was born from a rose. The blooms were worn to honour the fallen.

The displays and information add to my knowledge about the Romans, and their surroundings. They were very serious about the business of ‘conquer and defend’. Training was done with weighted weapons to add to the strength and skill of the soldiers. In battle, wielding a sword would feel so much easier, and inspire confidence. Training could be brutal, with little quarter given. The armour and weaponry engendered huge respect for the skill and craftsmanship of these people.

I learnt that discipline was very strictly enforced. Falling asleep on sentry duty in the long, dark nights was a crime punishable by death, often at the hands of your fellow soldiers, while the garrison looked on. A background video, running on one wall, told the story of a bunch of young soldiers and how they felt about life in the Roman Army. Wine and gambling were happy diversions from the training schedule.

A timeline and Hadrian’s interesting story completed the exhibits. I doubt I would make the journey especially for the Roman Army Museum, but it works well in conjunction with Vindolanda. When we had left the fort there was a freshness in the air and we were glad to be indoors. By the time we left the museum it was spitting on to rain, and the skies a dull grey. The iconic Sycamore Gap looked a little ‘all forlorn’.

I’m adding this post to Cathy’s collection of Prose, over at Wander.essence. I hoped to give you a flavour of life on the bottom rung of the Roman Empire. Not always a comfortable place to be, but with its own rewards. The 3D film made quite an impression on me and I feel like I’ve been living alongside those Romans. I’m glad you could keep me company.

Jo’s Monday walk : Vindolanda Roman Fort

Knee deep in history this week, I spent a fascinating day out at Vindolanda, on Hadrian’s Wall in Northumberland. Come and walk with me, in Roman footsteps. Can you believe, this tiny child’s boot, found here on this site, is from Roman times?

At the edge of the Roman Empire, the Wall was to stretch 73 miles across Britain, from coast to coast. A formidable undertaking! The garrison at Vindolanda was the first of a series of bases enabling the Wall to be built, and then defended. The name means ‘white field’ or ‘white moor’, and I can testify that freezing conditions are often to be found at the border in winter. On a warm Spring day, the beauty of the surrounds was what struck me first. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s build the suspense a little. What might I find here?

I had, of course, heard all about the Vindolanda Tablets– telling scraps of bygone lives, written in ink on wafer thin slivers of wood, they are the oldest surviving hand written documents in Britain. But what would they look like, and how did they come to be still intact after almost 2000 years? This UNESCO World Heritage Site has ongoing live excavations, and it was incredible to watch history being unearthed before my eyes.

Meet Graham, and his merry team, and let him enthrall you with tales of some of the finds from the 14 years he has been helping to excavate this site. The twinkle in his eyes can’t disguise the passion he has for this very special place. The stories will give you goosebumps. It was from Graham that I first heard the explanation as to how well preserved everything was. The first 4 forts here were made of wood, but over time they were demolished and 5 new stone forts were built over the top. Each layer of new building sealed the previous levels, creating anaerobic (oxygen-free) conditions, effectively preserving them from decay. An unbelievable 6000 items have been recovered so far. As they continue down they hit further pockets of discovery, adding to the already amazing haul.

Throughout the site information boards help you to reconstruct what once stood there. The Romans were very resourceful, channelling water from nearby streams in stone aqueducts or timber pipes. They had underfloor heating systems, steam rooms and communal but comfortable toilets. It was a well-ordered society with a recognised chain of command and luxurious, for the times, quarters for the Governor and his guests. It is believed that the Emperor Hadrian himself once stayed here.

On the Vindolanda website there is a detailed timeline and enough information to keep you reading for a considerable time. I can only skim the surface here. The Romans arrived in the mid AD70s and were here for more than 300 years, building and rebuilding a sequence of forts and, from AD120, Hadrian’s Wall. When the Romans withdrew from Vindolanda it continued to have a life for a further 400 years, before falling into decay.

It is a spectacular site, built on a hill, and would have been easy to defend. Follow me down to the reconstructed Temple of the Nymphs, in the valley below. The Romans worshipped a number of gods, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury and Neptune among them. The wall paintings inside are based on examples at Pompeii and Herculaneum.

The museum is in a beautiful setting, in what was formerly Chesterfield Cottage. It was purchased by Vindolanda Trust in 1974 and has been extended and modernised, and includes a very friendly little restaurant. If you can make it here, I cannot recommend it highly enough. One of the collections that I found extraordinary was the shoes. I had no idea that the Romans had so much choice in the range of footwear available to them. (especially if they had plenty of money) Coloured socks are believed to have been worn with the latticed style, to highlight the pattern. The soles were studded to prolong wear, children’s shoes being a smaller version of adult footwear.

Whatever attracts or interests you, I’m sure you can find something to marvel at, be it fine bronze armour, worn by the legionaries, oyster forks, a range of keys, painted glass from the Rhineland or the military standard and horse brasses of a cavalry troop.

Goods were made locally by craftsmen but were also trafficked throughout the mighty Roman Empire. Leather for clothes, shoes and tents for the military was produced at Vindolanda, and woodworking was an essential craft. A workbench belonging to ‘Atto’ bears his carved name and the punch marks from his tools. Another compelling recent find is a pair of ancient ‘boxing gloves’, probably used by a soldier during fitness training.

In a darkened corner I finally find what I’ve been looking for. Described as ‘postcards from the past’, the Vindolanda Tablets inspire awe. I peer into the illuminated cabinets, trying to decipher the writing from a world 2000 years ago. Defeated by language, I gaze numbly through the glass. Many hours have been spent transcribing these events from everyday life, and many more could be spent reading them.

Finally I pull myself away, and head back outdoors. Clouds have scudded in and I feel the chill that must once have settled on Roman bones. I linger just long enough to climb one of the wooden forts, hoping to find a degree of shelter from the wind. Looking down on the remains of a bathhouse, I shiver and then march briskly, back to the car.

I hope you enjoyed this venture back in time with me, and can only urge, if ever you have the chance, that you visit. The rewards are rich. Full access details for Vindolanda and the Roman Army Museum (to follow) are on the website.

Another bumper crop of walks to share with you this week. Many thanks to everyone for their efforts, and for many hours of pleasure. Join me any time on Jo’s Monday walk. You’ll be very welcome. Definitely time to put the kettle on!

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Drake was swift off the mark with a bit of fun this week :

Garden party

Closely followed by Lady Lee, with a garden of her own :

The moon, apple blossom and our garden

And then Lisa took us all the way to Israel :

From Crocodiles to Tarantulas

Always fascinating to see where someone lives. Let Suzanne be your tour guide, with quiet atmosphere:

Morning walk

And, not to confuse you, a very different Suzanne takes you on a forest walk :

A saunter down GRAND AVENUE

Grab a coffee next, and go look at some books with Janet!