Thursday 7th April
Some people love the sound of rain on the caravan roof – each to their own – however it merely keeps me awake. Even more bleary eyed than usual I prised myself from the bed to make a cuppa then did a few of the word games doing the rounds at the moment, in the vain hope of coaxing my pickled grey cells into action. As usual I had a look at the weather forecast too – it wasn’t great. I’d canvassed opinions on Twitter about what to do on my last full day here and settled for Carlisle Castle at least for a start. It was under the English Heritage umbrella and a discount was promised for pre-booking entry. This I did.
After brekky and a shower I donned the ‘uniform’ – black everything obviously – in preparation for departure and checked the phone as per for any updates, it being at least ten minutes since I last picked it up.
SEE tickets – English Heritage's agent informed me that the castle would be closed today due to the weather – a refund would be forthcoming in 10 days or so. Funny how they can take the wonga straight away but need a week and a half to give it back. Anyway, Plan B was put into action, namely a run down to the town of Penrith to have a mooch around, with possibly a visit to the Rheged Centre into the bargain.
I’d been advised of a handy and cheap car park to use and set Google Maps to direct me there – the journey down the M6 taking about half an hour. I followed the directions and found myself in the Police Station Car Park, adjacent to the intended one! A swift reverse ferret and a bit of common sense brought me eventually to the proper entrance.
Penrith certainly is a lovely town, although somewhat spoiled, as are many, by the constant stream of traffic through it. I of course added to this on my arrival so couldn’t grumble too much.
It was great to see plenty of independent shops still in operation alongside the usual chain store suspects, my look around however was frequently punctuated by outbursts from above so found myself darting into the various charity shops and perusing the paperbacks and DVD’s. The visits proved fruitful – I read quite a bit – nothing too heavy you understand, just a nice murder mystery – and my eventual haul comprised a selection of Ann Cleeves – creator of the Vera and Shetland series on TV and a Rough Guide to Berlin, a city I’ve long been wanting to visit, for various reasons….
I was on my way back to the car park and, prompted by another rain shower, diverted into a B & M. Drawn to the selection of real ales I consulted the Ale Archive on my phone to see if there was any that I hadn’t yet sampled. They had two, from a brewery in that well know Cumbrian city of er, Bristol. No matter, I took them to the counter and paid. Consulting said phone also revealed a text and email from the aforementioned SEE tickets. The previous messages had been sent in error and Carlisle Castle was indeed open and they looked forward to welcoming me.
I was a little miffed initially to be honest and thought about demanding a refund – then pondered what I’d do for the rest of the day. The decision was made and I set sail for Carlisle, ignoring Google Map’s insistence that I use the M6 – I was going to be seeing enough of it the next day – and instead headed back north via the A6. It was nice and quiet, much nicer to drive and the scenery was even better.
The card readers at the Castle Car Park were out of action and, not carrying hardly any cash, at least in coin of the realm, I spent a few minutes downloading the appropriate app before the short but windy and wet walk to the castle entrance.
I’m glad I made the effort because the visit was well worth it. Being located near the border with Scotland the castle has one hell of a history. The walls couldn’t talk but the guides could and were very friendly and knowledgeable. I eschewed a walk around the perimeter walls, not wanting to be pelted by the recently arrived hailstones but it was nonetheless a worthwhile visit. I love a good castle.
On site too is the Carlisle Museum of Military Life, a fascinating display and focusing more on the parts various locals played in the military during the castles’ history.
Back at the site the heating was ramped up to restore Patsy to cosy status, and another pleasant night in was had. It had been a good stop, my little dip in the middle notwithstanding – and the weather could have been better, but I’m glad I finally made it and feel sure I will return at some point. The no facility club sites are particularly appealing to me.
Friday 8th April
Time to depart and after yesterdays’ grim showing it was a bright sunny morning that greeted me as I raised the blinds. A cold one though, Hetty was covered with a thin layer of frost. I made a cuppa, cranked up the heating and returned to bed for a bit, checking my route down and across to West Yorkshire.
The tow to Hebden Bridge club site was pretty straightforward, the large majority of it being down the M6. I found myself a lorry to sit a safe distance behind and cycled the trip meter away from the MPG reading, trying not to concern myself with such matters but hoping for more improvement.
The Caravan Club, sorry Caravan & Motorhome Clubs’ direction were to arrive via the A646. This I did, turning off onto the M65 and joining the A646 around Burnley. Progress slowed a little then but was not unduly troublesome. There were a few traffic lights on the way, most seemingly perched at the brows of hills and Hetty’s clutch would have much preferred them to be green on approach. No matter, fortunately I remembered that, unlike the school minibus I didn’t have the benefit of Hill Start Assist and there were no unpleasant odours emanating from under her bonnet.
Things were a little slower once I approached Todmorden then Hebden Bridge and 3rd gear was forgotten. There were a lot of parked cars but thankfully oncoming folk saw the benefit of giving way – my hand was raised several times in thanks – unlike the one figured gesture often deployed on the way to one of my regular haunts, The Crystal Palace site in south London.
I pulled into the site and first impressions were good – I love smaller sites and this looked fab. Again no toilet block but again, appropriately cheaper. I checked the trip meter and Hetty had done well too, her MPG a marked improvement.
Stop 4 | Hebden Bridge CAMC | 124 miles at 28.2 mpg | Pitch 24 | 6 nights
Having checked in I proceeded to pick a pitch and decided to go nose in, necessitating the use of the motor mover. In truth it wasn't much of a view and I doubt I’ll bother next time. Despite there being no one behind me at check in, no sooner had I unhitched and engaged said mover than a motorhome appeared behind. He pulled up way closer than necessary, looking cross, presumably annoyed that his progress was impeded. For a few minutes. I can’t be sure but he may have been drumming his fingers on the steering wheel too. My motor mover is old and slow but I completed the manoeuvre as quickly as possible, more or less. Having positioned Patsy and pulled in the car alongside he proceeded past with far more rev’s than was necessary. I made a point of watching him reverse into a pitch, or should I say try to reverse. ‘Nuff said.
Legs were soon down, power was on and a recliner was extracted from the car for the usual baguette and a beer. The moment was short lived however as the weather forecast proved to be depressingly accurate and the hailstones soon arrived. I decided the best thing would be a nap and stretched out inside the ‘van with the heating on low. Later I raided the well stocked Information Room for leaflets, making a note of local bus and trains and started to plan what I would do whilst here. I liked the look of Hebden Bridge as I drove through and looked forward to exploring more, unencumbered by Patsy – or Hetty for that matter. Although my first trip out would see me heading somewhere entirely different.
Until Part 7…
Cheers
Rich