Through the home of Robin and his merry men we drove to the wonderful walled city of York. In recognition of medieval York’s Roman history, and as we were driving along Hadrian’s Wall, we thought we better combine good Roman and British tradition and stuff pasta in our mouth at Jamie’s Italian. I don’t think the thousands of Roman soldiers in 43AD would have enjoyed their lunch as much as we did. After a stroll along the Shambles and past the Minster we headed our trusty VW Golf chariot north.
It seemed somewhat fitting, that after leaving Cambridge we should head for the wild but beautiful place that captured the fascination of William Stukeley, anantiquarian alma mater of Corpus Christi. In 1776 in his Itinerarium Curiosum it was written
‘ for a mile before we came to Keswick, on an eminence in the middle of a great concavity of those rude hills, and not far from the banks of the river Greata, I observed another Celtic work, very intire: It is 100 foot in diameter, and consists of forty stones, some very large’.
Well a mile before we came to Keswick we also came across the Druid stones in the wild, vast and beautiful hills of the Lakes District. Castlerigg is one of my favourite places and I always try and visit. The surrounding fells form the most fantastic amphitheatre for the circle that always makes me think of secretive druidish practices, pagan rituals and people dressed up in bed sheets. The plaque at the paddock gate tells us that the circle was probably built in 3200 BC during the early bronze era. I think I love this place so much, as unlike the touristy Stonehenge, the Neolithic ritual circle stands in middle Earth miles from anywhere – you expect to see Gandalf, with his flowing beard and white robes direct his staff at the hills to light up the circle.
We drove across the beautiful Pennines between Lancashire and Yorkshire. No wonder the place has been designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB). The stunning moors, rivers, woods and the beautiful stone buildings nestled amongst the dales. The stone fences, the green patchwork fields and the total lack of anything resembling people, apart from the smoke coming out of a stone farmhouse, made us feel we really were in hobbit country.
Sleeping under the stars 