I spent most of the day researching the border reivers and writing about what I’m learning. Yes, like school. Only no grades. There will be a paper at the end but again–no grades.
Carlisle is a pretty town there in the city center. Lots of old building stock, plenty of shops. They have done that very smart thing of closing off some streets to traffic so there’s a lot of wandering around and plenty of places to sit and think. Or drink coffee. Or eat ice cream.
Tullie House is a sweet interactive museum with a bright and helpful staff. In addition to the museum, there’s a tidy gallery which is currently featuring an exhibit of George Howard. I was the only person there so I spent good time peering at sketches and watercolors. I even sat for a while, pondering his drawings for a children’s songbook.
Funny the local reaction to the border reivers. There is a sense of almost pride in how totally badass they were but there is also this feeling that they were gangsters and reprobates and, well, good riddance to bad rubbish. I picked up Alastair Moffat’s book on the reivers and what I’ve checked out is quite readable.
I wandered up to the castle and considered going all the way to Hadrian’s Wall but it was hot and that wasn’t about reivers.
Tomorrow I take the train to Coventry and will–gratefully!–be picked up by Gary and Maranda and taken to their house in Stockton. Maranda’s assures me she has a washer and I can do a bit of laundry. That may be self-preservation on her part. I’ve been washing socks as I go and even did a pair of pants a couple of days ago. But a nice laundry done will make my arrival in Glastonbury on Monday a bit more pleasant for all concerned.
I settle into G’bury for a week. That will be very pleasant indeed.