Salisbury

Buses to Stonehenge didn't run any earlier than normal despite the equinox, so I wandered the town until the first bus at ten. First, I walked through St. Thomas's Church, famed for its doom painting, depicting the day of judgement, which I somehow managed not to notice. 

I then walked by the Salisbury Cathedral. 

As usual, I loved the grotesques. 

Okay, I didn't actually go inside the cathedral until after I got back from Stonehenge and Old Sarum, but I'm choosing thematic unity over temporal accuracy here. 

In addition to the usual grandeur, the cathedral holds the oldest working timepiece in the world, a clock made in 1386:

I liked the emaciated figure on one of the tomb lids and the ornate carving on some benches: 

I was also impressed by the modern (1980) stained glass window commemorating prisoners of conscious, which used a color scheme I find more aesthetically pleasing than the usual fare. 

The cathedral is also famed for housing the best preserved of the four remaining copies of the Magna Carta. I was amused by the understated sign pointing out this most important of historical documents:

The Magna Carta is housed in the chapter house:

I loved the timber frame houses. 

An impressive stonework that looks like it could cap an ornate tower is actually to mark the spot in market square where poultry was sold:

Manchester

On my rush south I did take some time to do something other than look at big stone buildings and actually visited some urban areas. In Manchester I wandered my way the the National War Museum North, which is housed in a building shaped as a sphere shattered into three shards to represent the three theatres of battle: land, sea, and air. The temporary exhibit was of a war photographer's life's work, which was impressive and depressing, as one would expect a war museum to be. The main area was dedicated to the last 100 years of warfare and held detailed fascinating exhibits about everything from weaponry to propaganda to the effects of those back home. Every hour or so the whole area was turned into the projection screen for films about a particular war or aspect of a war. Three different films would play on three different walls, with an overarching narrative voiced over the images.

The rest of my first day in Manchester I did other exciting things like hang out in the astoundingly large library (housing twenty miles of shelves), doing my taxes, eating Chinese food, and doing laundry at the hostel.

In the morning I ate breakfast in reconstructed Roman ruins near the hostel that give a glimpse of the walled fort that once stood there. I spend the morning at the Manchester art gallery. I loved the French impressionist paintings that captured Manchester's fog and industry. My favorite part, though, was a group of hyper-realistic replicas of people, but with the scale off. Sculptor Ron Muech created surreal and powerful impressions with a nude wild man 18 feet tall, looking nervous and uncomfortable, or the 18 inch tall couple spooning. If not for the scale I would have thought these were casts of real people, or even, momentarily, that they were real people since they were accurate down to the hair follicles, cellulite dimpled thighs, postures, and expressions.

I had a late lunch at an Indian buffet, where I learned that now that I am older I do in fact have limits to how much I can eat. That limit is four heaping platefuls of rich delicious Indian food. From there I waddled over to spend more time in the magnificent library before taking some bloody expensive trains to Bristol and Salisbury. I considered trying to make my way to Stonehenge since the druidic ceremony among the stones would be early the next morning for the Spring Equinox. However, buses sure weren't running there at night, and it was pouring rain. Instead I managed to check into the youth hostel right before it closed for the night. 

Lancaster

Ambleside's Wednesday market was setting up as I waited for the bus and I looked through the books but ended up just heading straight on to Lancaster. The priory was nearly a thousand years old, but it was remodeled in the middle ages.

Immediately next to the priory stands the castle.

The fortified position is currently a prison, as it has been for a couple hundred years. For obvious reasons only part of the castle is open to tour groups. One section I particularly liked was the ornate trial room, where the coats of arms hang on the walls, showing all of the High Sheriffs of Lancashire over the last 800 plus years. Some of the more recent ones had fun creating their family arms that included soccer balls or were amusing puns on the names (which I'm forgetting. That's what I get for writing nearly two years after the event). Some of the puns are out of date, like Newton being represented by a new barrel (tun), or Bolton represented by an arrow (bolt). Another fun section was the former holding cells, which were certainly far from a fun place to spend one's time, even if they were a great deal less oppressive than medieval dungeons. 

I spent some time wandering the streets, browsing the shops and stalls, and using the internet in the library.  In the last of the light I meandered up to a hilltop park to overlook the city.  The Ashton memorial was a rather impressive centerpiece for the park. 

From there I was off to manchester, where I ate at the curry mile and checked into the hostel.

Castlerigg Stone Circle and Unofficial Couchsurfing

Had there been a different focus to my trip I may have spent a considerable amount of time in Cumbria and the Lake District. This area is supposed to be contain of the most beautiful places and best hikes in Britain, but it was  light on castles and cathedrals, so I mostly skipped over it. Also, it rained almost the whole time I was there. Thankfully, the weather was clear when I stopped by the main sight I intended to visit in the area: Castlerigg Stone Circle. I walked up hill out of the town of Keswick to the stone circle, which is between 3000 and 4000 years old.

What's that? You say I would have to have been standing atop the stones in order to take the next two pictures? No, that would be disrespectful. I definitely would never do that...

I only saw one other person during the time I stood in the circle. The clear air and mountain surroundings made it feel mystical. 

As the sky started to darken, I headed out to the town of Ambleside. The town is supposed to be a great base for hiking, but I mostly went there to make some progress southward so that I didn't have to take the bus during precious daylight hours. It was raining when I arrived, so I immediately trudged out to the youth hostel. Unfortunately, it was under renovation and hence closed. I headed out to the other hostel in town, but found that this independent backpacking hostel was serious about the sign out front saying that they would not check anyone in after 8 pm. I arrived at 8:15 and no one would so much as answer the door. All other lodging in the town was quite expensive.

I treated myself to a nice dinner at Zeffirelli's Italian restaurant, figuring that if I wasn't able to have a nice place to sleep I should at least eat well. Over dinner a couple about my age was sitting next to me commented on my reading the Lonely Planet (which I was using to desperately figure out if there was somewhere I could go to sleep out of the rain fairly cheaply) and struck up a conversation about the book. They commented that LP India had been their bible when they traveled there, and wondered what the Britain version had to say about their hometown. I got the sense that they were travelers after my own heart, or at least fairly close.  After working up the courage to do so, I told them the hostel situation and asked them if I could give them twenty quid to crash on their floor or couch. They said I could stay for free. When we went to their home on the floor above the family business, her parents commented that they had brought home a stray, which is pretty damned accurate. I hung out with them for a couple hours and enjoyed conversations about a wide range of topics before crashing on their couch. 

Caerlaverock Castle

In my rush to head south to Hadrian's Wall for the Illumination event, I had to skip over Caerlaverock Castle. Lonely Planet described it as one of the best castles in Britain, so I knew I had to head back into Scotland to remedy this situation. I was not disappointed. 

The triangular, pink stoned fortress is surrounded by a moat and looks unassailable, though history says otherwise. Being on the volatile Scotland-England border, it was taken several times. It is testament to its strength, however, that a mere sixty men were able to hold off the entire English army for a lengthy siege. 

I enjoyed the no longer functional stairs in the towers. 

After gawking at the castle for a while, I headed around back towards the wetlands and to see the old castle. Mind you, the 'new' castle I had been looking at was built in the 1270s. The old castle was only fifty years older, and now consists of a few stones outlining the foundation of the square keep. 

The wetlands were pleasant and quiet. I think I was the only person in the area. 

I saw two toads during my brief walk between the castles, and nearly stepped on one before it spoiled its camouflage by moving. 

In front of the castle were reconstructed siege engines. The video in the visitor's center showed the demonstrations of their power. The catapult was interesting

...but I love trebuchets, the ultimate castle breakers before gunpowder. 

Once I was finally satisfied with gazing upon the castle, I jaunted onward, back into England. 

Hexham and Carlisle

After my first well-rested night in who knows how long, I was all energized to run around to lots more big stone buildings. I started with Hexham abbey.

Another old stone building in Hexham was the moot hall. This was a gate in the original city defenses, and then was used as a court house for a long stretch of time. 

The result of the verdict at the moot hall could be imprisonment here at the Old Gaol. This is the first prison build for solely that purpose in England, erected in 1333. 

Inside are figures and soundtracks displaying the conditions of the cells. These conditions vary greatly, from the horrid crowded rooms in the basement, where the gaolers would basically toss people down and forget about them, to the swank chambers where the wealthy inmates could order room service including a rather mind blowing amount of alcohol. 

From Hexam I made my way back to Carlisle. The castle looked much the same in daylight, though now I could enter it. 

The castle once held Mary Queen of Scots. It also survived a long siege where the Royalist defenders had to eat rats and dogs before finally surrendering to the Parliamentarians.  

Besides a dungeon full of horror stories, the keep had some interesting displays about the history of changes of castle and about the Jacobite rebellion.

Nearby stood Carlisle Cathedral. I particularly liked the fragments of the nave that survived after the building was cannibalized to reinforce the city walls after attacks from Parliamentarians. 

I spent the rest of my time in Carlisle browsing bookstores and various other shops. I then took the train up to Dumfries to get a fix of internet at the library before spending the night in a bed and breakfast above the river overlooking a pleasant footbridge. I had skipped one last castle in Scotland in order to make it on time to the Hadrian's Wall illumination, but damned if I wasn't going to get back there before rushing off on the next adventure.