Rosy-cheeked, and with chilblains salved, we set off on today's longish outing. Stage 1: A one hour and 20 minute drive to Ravenglass Roman Bathhouse, on the West Cumbrian coast. This excursion should have taken just a tad over an hour, but our sat nav, which is never much chop, spent a lot of time being an absolute deadshit today. Example: "In 200 yards, take a sharp right turn." We were puzzled by this unexpected instruction - we were on a narrow, rural A-road, surrounded on both sides by sheep (and tiny, pretty baby lambs - it's the season) in paddocks. We have been enticed by Ms Sat Nav's devilish instructions before, and thank dog today we vowed to disobey. We would have collected anyone behind us and smashed at high speed into a stone fence - Cumbria's equivalent of a hedge row. The turn-off could have been safely approached from the opposite direction, but certainly not from ours. Not the first time our sat nav Jezebel has done this. Last Thursday, we were suddenly and urgently exhorted to turn right on the M62 near Manchester - it would have meant ploughing over four lanes, a median strip and the four lanes going in the opposite direction. We have no idea why this happens. Is it punishment for buying the cheapest sat nav? More significantly - is a soothing, female voice giving these frequently shite instructions reinforcing the old chestnut that women are 'unreliable' and should 'know their place'? Reckon I'm onto something there.
But enough on matters existential. This is what's left of the simply fabulous Ravenglass Roman Baths. Ravenglass was called Glannaventa by the Romans and was a large naval base in the 2nd century AD. It also served as a fort and supply base for Britannia's north-west for a couple of hundred years. Remnants of the actual Roman fort are believed to be in the unexcavated paddock across the lane - the bath house is the just the recreational (nudge nudge, wink wink)area.
Another view from the Bathhouse, with sheep in the background just doing sheepy stuff, as they have done for several thousand years. Still can't get my head around how this structure has been there for nearly 2000 years while the locals have just got on with their lives and various disruptive Anglos-Saxons, Vikings, Normans. And then after all that, the fifth columnists from within!
I'm not sure why I chose this pic except that the overall structure looks a bit like me balancing precariously in the bath, as I attempt to have a luke-warm shower. Not nearly as alluring as the statue of the nubile Roman chap who would have occupied the concave bit in the middle, this being a bathhouse and all.
A couple more things before I hand over to Snorkypants. After fabulous Ravenglass, we went to Muncaster Castle. Don't bother doing that. Not even as old as our place in Lindale, and yet it cost nearly 14 pounds to see an allegedly haunted house (yawn....) a bed of petunias, old teapots and some poor, harnessed, wretched raptors who would have given us a 'show' if only we'd hung around for it. No thanks.
After the disappointment of Muncaster, we went to another Cistercian Abbey (circa 1150 AD) , called Furness. It was just lovely, as ancient abbeys always are. This is our third Cistercian Abbey if we count Tintern two years ago. I am quite convinced Geoff is about to take his vows. But I'm not sure he's aware they start their devotion at 2am and that alcohol consumption is confined to feast days. This will come as quite a shock to him, although he will probably enjoy the 'freedom' of a breezy, well-aired kaftan ......
G Skillen, 4B here. I have to agree about the roman bathhouse. The experience of seeing something up close that is nearly 2000 years old was enhanced by the fact that it's in the middle of pretty much nowhere. You park the car in the middle of Ravenglass and eventually find your way down a number of rural paths to the site. Once there, it's just you and the sheep, if you happen to be the only visitors at the time, as we were today. Lucky us - quite magical! By the way, the town of Ravenglass is quite interesting in itself - on the west coast of the lake district, the coastline seemingly very tidal. This morning the boats all looked like they were beached. I gather they would have floated at high tide, possibly about now. And also lots of giant seagulls. The largest we decided was about the size of a medium Yorkshire terrier. We fancied the idea of morning tea at the Ratty Arms (the village's local), but alas it was closed. I mention this just to provide the opportunity of relating the name. I didn't make it up - honest.
We visited Muncaster castle because it's right next door. Yet more evidence of the English upper classes flaunting their inherited and undeserved wealth.
One of the branches of the family of the current owners has not two, but three hyphenated surnames. So if you'd call someone with a hyphenated surname 'two fathers', this lot would be 'three fathers'. Anne's reference to the caged raptors is quite apposite. The only thing I'd add is that one of the unfortunate inmates is a kookaburra. We sympathised with his/her plight, for what it's worth.
On then to Furness Abbey, in Barrow-in-Furness. You can probably already tell I've become a sucker for ruined abbeys. (Perhaps I owe something to Henry VIII for his order to 'dissolve' them in the 1530s.) I'm sure there is a 'ruined abbeys of Britain' tour that you can do if you look hard enough, and it would be well worth while. We still think Tintern is the most beautiful (which has nothing at all to do with the fact that there's a great pub in the village right next door), but those that we've seen this time are just as enchanting. It's hard to pick one photo that does Furness Abbey justice, but I'll try my best.
OK, I lied; not one photo but two. The other incongruous thing about Furness Abbey is that it's in the town of Barrow-in-Furness, or Barrow for short, which is a Rugby League town. I can't imagine that the Barrow lads ever trained in the grounds of the Abbey on Tuesday nights (or any other night). Workington (also in Cumbria) is or was also a Rugby League town. I never knew that Barrow and Workington were in Cumbria, not Yorkshire. My life's education is another step nearer to completion.
Thank you, Geoffy. The final part of today's excursion took place in the huge Tesco supermarket at Barrow, only a couple of kms from the fabulous and ancient Furness Abbey. It's the size of a Costco, but fortunately we didn't have to pay a 30 quid membership fee to go in and buy our modest requirements. Had it been a normal-sized supermarket, we could have been in and out in about 15 minutes. But it's sooooo big, it took us over half an hour. They sell everything, from trombones to combine harvesters. Fabulous range, but inconvenient if you're just after groceries.
Till trmorrow! XXX
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