I returned to Northumberland with some of my writing buddies for another girly road trip. First time out, we visited Alnwick Castle. This time, inspired by more locations in the area drawn on a teatowel (don’t ask), we visited Hadrian’s Wall. (And how often do you think about the Roman Empire?)
I’d been there before, and knew that because we were all massive nerds, Sycamore Gap was the place to go; after all, it had featured in Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves and was one of the most familiar landmarks around. It would give us a chance to walk a short stretch of the wall (but a hilly one), and dress up for daft photos. I even went to a toy shop the evening before and got a tiny, dirt-cheap bow and arrow set.
The weather was decent, and the site was mobbed (a local charity group for disabled kids was also doing a promotional photo shoot there), so after our picnic lunch we had to arrange the camera in a way to hide all the other activities going on behind us.
I did the silly-bugger-version of Kevin Costner, my friend Karen opted for a somewhat Tolkein-ish Friar Tuck, and my friend Sarah dressed in black and wielded a spoon to play the Sheriff of Nottingham (and even agreed to have jam from her sandwich smeared across her cheek to mimic the facial scar).
Even though none of us resembled the original cast, passers-by recognised what we were doing instantly. One of them asked if we did this a lot? “No,” said Karen, “No,” said Sarah, “All the time!” said I…
As I write, it’s still only a couple of days since the Sycamore tree that gave the gap its name was felled by a fuckwit with a chainsaw (currently thought to be a guy in his 60s who’d been evicted from a local farm; I might update this later once the truth is known).
It’s a sobering reminder that sometimes when you decide to postpone visiting a place “because it’ll always be there”, it ain’t always so. I’m just glad I got to take my friends there while it was still standing.
Afterwards we headed to Vindolanda, a nearby museum with an outdoor cafe. We were greeted by a receptionist wearing a plethora of LGBT badges (and Tolkein stuff, and a Star Trek badge based on the newer series, not the good ones of old, but I kept my mouth shut about that). She was obviously delighted to see us (not sure how many crossdressers they get here) and I doubt we’ll ever meet a more helpful member of staff!
Vindolanda was a Roman border fort with a small support village attached. All that remains are the foundations and lower walls (and drains), but there’s a reconstruction of a wall and gate to allow experimental archaeologists to see how the soil and stones settle around the building works.
Vindolanda’s gardens and museum make for a thoroughly pleasant summer stroll (I’ll spare you those photos; that’s not what this blog is about!). And there were enough recreated statues around and about to have fun with…
Time filled up really quickly, between the journey to the wall, the walk, the picnic, and pottering around the museum and cafe. We had enough of the day left to enjoy the outdoor exhibits before they locked the gates. We also met that helpful receptionist again, on her way out after packing things up for the day.
On the way home, along narrow country roads, I drove with the expectation that I’d encounter a load of dangerous drivers, and I wasn’t disappointed. Why do we always have to drive considerately for the benefit of the inconsiderate ones? Anyway, my passengers soon got used to me singing “wankpanzers!” to the tune of “Ghostbusters!” whenever we encountered a car built too big for the roads, or sarcastically faking orgasms at anyone overtaking dangerously. Sometimes you just gotta provide your own entertainment, ya know?
[This is my 100th blog post here!]
Miss Twist speaks her brains 