Sauntering Vaguely Downward

This is the interior of the top floor of the East Banqueting House from yesterday's entry. It's all one big room, nicely furnished, but the real attraction of it is the views from all the windows, and the great wooden double doors on the right, which open directly onto the lawn.

You can also zoom in and play a frustrating game of "Spot the Humuhumu". Hint: she isn't next to the tablet, which was abandoned by Keiki when he went to hunt for an apple in the kitchen downstairs.

We postponed the bloke’s annual birthday trip to a Landmark Trust property last year for pandemic-related reasons. Happily we were able to rebook for the full week again this year.

The Bromfield Priory Gatehouse isn’t all that far from home for us, being in Shropshire. It’s believed to have started life as a single-storeyed entrance to a Benedictine priory in the 1100s. In the 1500s it was enlarged with the timber-framed upper storey which is mostly taken up by the living room and kitchen that is genuinely the best part of the house, dominated by the massive Jacobean fireplace and chimneypiece.




Sanity -2 for gazing too long at the fireplace.


Morning silk clay crafting (Sanity +2)


All veg pairs by Keiki and Humuhumu. Snail looking forward to its banquet by me.

It’s a 2.5 mile walk to Ludlow from the Gatehouse along an almost deserted and fully paved bridleway through the Oakly Park estate. We walked it to get to Ludlow Castle.


It was a little bit breezy.





Beautiful round nave in the middle of the ruins, also from the 1100s. It’s all that remains of the Chapel of Saint Mary Magdalene and it is splendid even in its current state.


Last look from the top of the tower before the steep slippery descent down the spiral stone stairs.


Some people may have got a little too into pretending to be monarchs ordering their subjects around.

[Snippet of a log book entry featuring delicate pencil sketches of guinea pigs dressed for variable weather]

We’re currently holed up in a cottage in south Wales, listening to Storm Dennis howling outside. This is the bloke’s fortymumbleth birthday, so we’re following our tradition of going to a Landmark Trust (LT) property for the weekend.

LT properties don’t provide televisions or wifi, and are mostly in remote locations. A few years ago this meant you were properly cut off from the internet unless you were organised and downloaded a bunch of stuff onto your mobile devices before you left. Mobile coverage is now so good in 99% of places that this doesn’t work. For the adults, though, it helps a little with cutting screen time, since the main point of these weekends is sitting around the fire, snacking on all the tasty food we brought with us and plundering the bookcase.

Amongst my favourite items in the bookcases are the log books. My obsession with them began in the first LT property we stayed at, St Winifred’s Well Cottage, also in Wales. The log books there were things of beauty and frankly have not yet been surpassed. The artwork people drew and the little photos they stuck in were skilful and touching. Log books at subsequent properties have ranged from entertaining to mildly disappointing.

There’s an element of one-up-manship in most of the log book entries. For instance, “We walked 36 miles today and saw 8 different historical sites, even though it was pissing it down with rain! We observed 28 species of bird, one of which was the rare hoopentootle. PS Correction to the Thomas family entry on p36, Oct 1987: The notable feature in the Church of St Parpenfoogle is a cryptoporticus, not a cloister.”

I would like to start a tradition of one-down-manship. If I may suggest to future LT visitors the following:

• “Thought about walking up to the historical site 200 metres from here. Couldn’t be arsed. It was cold.”
  
• “Started 500 piece puzzle, completed by the Smiths and the Browns in 2.5 hours and 3 hours respectively as meticulously recorded on the inside of the box lid. Gave up after 30 minutes and put it back in the box.”
  
• ”Didn’t bother working out how to light the legendarily temperamental fire. It’s July.”
  
• “Tried to eat all the food we brought with us. Even failed at that.”
  
• “Wrote a poem about the cottage. It’s even worse than the limerick penned by Brian Wu, Age 10 ⅓, so I won’t share it.”
  
• ”Saw some pigeons. Didn’t count them.”

As I have alluded to in the past few posts, we spent the Easter holidays in a Landmark Trust castle in Yorkshire. Staying in an LT property has become our traditional way to celebrate the bloke's birthday, which is in February. We opted not to celebrate in February this year, given that his birthday (a) did not fall over the half-term break and (b) involved him flying home from Kuala Lumpur on the day. We also figured out that the three-night stays were consistently feeling too short to relax properly, so we went for five nights.

The first installment of the photos shows the exterior of the castle. Castle Cawood has existed in various forms since the early 12th century. The gatehouse portion was constructed by Archbishop Kemp. The castle was ordered destroyed in the 17th century by some grumpy Roundheads.


Castle gatehouse (stone) with our car parked in front of it, and abandoned banqueting hall (brick). Access to the weathertight (but not habitable) banqueting hall was possible although you had to find the keys first.

( +9 )

Our time at the castle has been spent in archetypal bank holiday weekend weather. It took us five hours to complete an allegedly three hour journey in driving rain on the way here. It has been freezing cold, continuously drizzly and the ground has been sodden since the hour we arrived.

Somehow we have contrived to have a lovely time. We have been alternately reading, drawing/colouring and playing games with the cousins according to age & predilection. We've been for a swim at the cousins’ swanky gym (not quite Centre Parcs but still rather good), and to a National Trust property for a nearly solitary Easter Egg hunt in freezing drizzle. I've finished three books and part of two more, which is very nearly my usual quarterly total. (I used to read a lot more in the days B.C.)

Now to curl up for a final laze in front of the blazing fire. Back home tomorrow, where I will catch up on comments and DW/LJ lists. ♥