Caister Castle and Motor Museum

Wednesday 21 August 2002. After looking around the older parts of Great Yarmouth the sky was still a little threatening and we decided to visit Caister Castle which had a motor museum where we could spend the rest of the afternoon indoors, looking at the collection of cars.

There is little left of the castle itself. It was built in (well... "from") 1432 by Sir John Fastolfe. Born in 1378 he was ambitious, brave, educated and religious. He was a patron of the arts and universities, a statesman and a soldier with 40 years service.

It seems a shame that Shakespeare was to defame him so badly with his character of Falstaff. Fighting against Joan of Arc with extended supply lines he chose correctly to withdraw. Shakespeare depicted this as cowardice. However in real life he was awarded Governorship of Normandy for the following four years.

The tower from across the moat (previous photograph) presents almost a chocolate box image. From inside the castle (seen in this photograph) there is access to a spiral staircase that takes you up to the top of the tower where you can strike weird and wonderful poses for the cameras of your fellow tourists below. There are quite a few examples of graffiti from centuries gone by etched into the walls by daggers or coin edges.

A few vehicles are dotted about the grounds. We first came across this old London horse-drawn tram as a barely recogniseable "shed" of bare rotting wood in 1981. Ten years later it looked almost brand new. Now it was once again looking as though it needed some TLC, at least a coat of paint.

A railway platform tractor - they were used to pull trains of flat wagons for luggage. The majority of the vehicles and just about all of the cars are under cover. They are preserved rather than concours. Cleaners use dusters but not water or polish. However, the place is well worth a visit and I would not want to hazard a guess at the total value of cars on display.

Great Yarmouth 2002 Index

A Snowy Trip to Newcastle

Wednesday 23 February 2005. It was a snowy but bright day heading over to Newcastle for a meeting of the Jisc Advisory Services. Besides Jisc infoNet that I worked for, there were Jisc Legal, Jisc TechDis, Jisc Netskills and a few staff from Jisc's central offices too.

As far as I remember, this was a meeting over two days, starting after lunch on the 23rd and ending after lunch on the 24th. It was 140 miles each way journey for me. Some had travelled from London and Bristol. On the way to Newcastle the A66 was looking a bit wintry and I was glad to get over the Pennines safely and onto the A1M. I stopped to take a quick photo of the Angel of the North in snow.

Thursday 24 February 2005. Overnight the snow caught up to Newcastle. This was the view from my bedroom that morning, looking towards Newcastle railway station with a GNER train pulling out on its journey south to York and beyond. The train is on a raised viaduct that now divides the castle keep from its barbican, the Black Gate.

There has been a fortress here since Roman times, guarding the crossing of the River Tyne at the eastern end of Hadrian's Wall. The son of William the Conqueror, Robert Curthose built a motte and bailey castle here in 1080, being a mound of earth with a wooden pallisade and the current Keep, seen today was built by King Henry II from 1172 to 1177 with the Black Gate being added during Henry III's reign between 1247-1250.

Heading homeward again later that afternoon, the snow was falling heavily on the A66.

The road was still open but there wasn't much traffic attempting it and I knew I had a few exposed roads to come even once I left the A66.

On the West Yorkshire moors the wind was blowing hard, turning the snow into a whirling blizzard and starting to cover the road. At times I had no idea where the edges of the road were but luckily there was always a bit of clear tarmac so that I could see enough to avoid any risk of driving off on one side or the other.

By the time I was approaching Kirby Stephen, the hills were white but the road was reassuringly visible again!

Work Index

Work Trip to Tynemouth

Tuesday 7 June 2005. I was attending a meeting of Jisc Regional Support Centres - a service set up to support Further Education colleges in their use of Information Technology.

A colleague from the North West region (there were nine regions covering the UK including one in Northern Ireland, two in Scotland and one in Wales) was following me across the country as she had never been this way before and wanted to see the Angel of the North sculpture. Our route to Tynemouth took us right past it so we stopped for a quick look before carrying on to Tynemouth to meet the other team representatives for an evening meal.

We were all staying at the Grand Hotel Tynemouth. It was built in 1872 by the Duke of Northumberland as a summer house for the Duchess and converted five years later into a hotel. The hotel claims it as the original luxury hotel in Tynemouth and so it may well have been. The grand staircase is especially worthy of mention. At one point the hotel proprietor was named Tom Tickle. Described as genial, I suppose that his life could have been made a misery had he not been genial!

I'm not sure who it was that took this one, as I can see myself peering out from halfway down the right hand side! I do remember it was Matt's birthday.

The next morning dawned sunny and bright and for some reason I decided to get up and go for a walk along the seafront before breakfast.

On the headland of Pen Bal Crag there are the ruins of both a castle and an earlier priory which dates from the 7th century. In the year 651 CE King Oswain of Deira (south Northumbria) was killed by men of King Oswiu of Bernicia (north Northumbria). King Oswain's body was buried at Tynemouth and he was later beatified as St Oswin. He was the first of three kings to be buried here at Tynemouth.

The second was King Osred II of Northumbria. His rule had been somewhat short. He became king in 789 and was deposed in 790. He was murdered in 792 which brought to an end any thoughts he may have had of regaining his crown...

The third king to be buried here was King Malcolm III of Scotland, the same mostly known today for his featuring in Shakespeare's play Macbeth. He was killed at the Battle of Alnwick in 1093 and was brought to the priory for burial but later sent back to be reburied in Scotland. Tynemouth's coat of arms is three crowns, in remembrance of the three kings once buried at the priory.

A castle of eathworks and wooden stockade was believed to have existed not long after the Norman invasion. Robert de Mowbray who had killed Malcolm III of Scotland at Alnwick, subsequently rebelled against William II and took refuge from William's siege in the castle in 1095. The siege lasted for two months but de Mowbray escaped to Bamburgh castle for a while, returned to Tynemouth and was captured when William retook the castle and was charged with treason, being imprisoned for the rest of his life.

In 1296 the Prior was granted permission to surround the priory with stone walls which kept Robert the Bruce at bay in 1314. A gatehouse and barbican were built in 1390 facing the land and 3,200 feet (975.3 metres) of walls still exist despite the seaward north side and east side falling into the sea and indeed much of the south side being demolished.

Looking down the town's streets.

The mouth of the River Tyne. From here it is 8 miles (13 kilometres) to Newcastle upon Tyne with which city Tynemouth was long in dispute over shipping rights on the river.

The Collingworth Monument is dedicated to Lord Vice Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood (26 September 1748 - 7 March 1810). He was Admiral Nelson's second in command at the Battle of Trafalgar on 21 October 1805 and his ship, the Royal Sovereign was the first to engage the enemy, having been fitted with a new copper on its underside which gave it an advantage of speed. It was an hour before any other British ship came close enough to fire a gun. On Nelson's death he became Commander-in-Chief of the British fleet. He was created Baron Collingwood, of Caldburne in November 1805.

Born and educated in Newcastle, his home was in nearby Morpeth at Collingwood House. The monument is 23 feet tall (7 metres) and was completed in 1845. Four years later the four cannon were added. They came from Collingwood's old ship, the Royal Sovereign.

By now I was definitely ready for a spot of breakfast! Walking back I passed the wooden building and watch tower of the Life Brigade Watch House.

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Sirmione on Lake Garda

Monday 5 July 2003. We were spending our last full day in Italy around Lake Garda itself.

Having started in Riva at the far northen end of the lake, we had travelled by coach to Gardone, two-thirds of the way down and then by fast boat to Sirmione where we found ourselves at the start of this article written twenty and a half years later... The well in the photo was our group meeting point for later on.

We had an hour or so to explore the town - let's go!

Sirmione is one of the most popular spots on Lake Garda. It sits quite strangely on the end of a very thin promontory that sticks out into the lake for 3.3 km (2.1 miles) from halfway along the southern edge of the lake. Unlike the northern edge which is just 3 km (2 miles) from one side to the other, the southern bank of the lake is 18 km (11 miles) across.

The town itself is large enough to walk round and enjoy the shops and cafes and of course the fabulous Italian gelateri ice creams. It enjoys a well laid out street system and weather that allows for a generous riot of colour from window boxes, flower beds and large amounts of purple bougainvillea growing on the walls of houses and shops.

Sirmione also has beaches, something denied to the more northern of Lake Garda's towns where the mountainsides drop steeply in cliff faces into the lake.

Dominating the town is the Scaligeri castle. Built from 1277 CE onwards on the very edge of the lake it was meant to protect the harbour where the Scaliger fleet was based. It has the swallowtail merlons that we saw in Verona on the walls.

The castle is surrounded by a moat that on one side is formed by the lake itself.

Trying to storm this castle would involve a waterborne invasion, or an awkward half climb, half tightrope walk from the harbour wall. Or require an army of very good jumpers...

Legitimate access was by drawbridges. One of these has since been replaced with a load-bearing stone bridge,

To my inexpert eye it looks like the two beams would swing down from an upright position with the castle end of the drawbridge permenantly attached in place and the land side swinging downwards until the far end rested on the opposite approach road.

No such problems for visitors in 2003. Top right is a bell tower rising high above the castle. Presumably this would ring out if anything alarming was spotted approaching either from the lake or up the promontory.

Nothing alarming about this approaching loveliness... As James Bond might have said (in The Spy Who Loved Me about someone I've counted as a friend now for 26 years), "What a beautiful craft ... such sleek lines!"

Lake Garda and Northern Italy, 2003 Index

Verona - Romeo-ver in the Clover

Sunday 4 July 2003. What light through yonder window breaks? 'Tis a brick and 'twas Juliet wot chucked it! Yes, we are back on the coach for another day of fun and frolics. Today we head towards Verona, home of Roman remains, star-crossed lovers and more pickpockets than you can shake a stick at...

As we approached said city, all quivering with excitement, we stopped first at a shrine cum monastery cum sanctuary high on a hill but without a lonely goatherd, but a with wonderful panoramic view of the city.

During World War II a church in Verona had been destroyed but the statue of the Madonna had been found unscathed. This Sanctuary had been built to house it and to give thanks.

We reached the outskirts of Verona. Some of the guests haven't come as it was raining in Riva. In fact we had had thunder and lightning throughout the night but here it was brightening up as we crossed the River Adige into Verona.

The Castelvecchio or Old Castle was an important military construction, built between 1354 and 1376, probably on the site of an earlier Roman fortress. It stands on the Verona bank of the River Adige and has an adjoining bridge that crosses the river. The swallow-tail merlons run atop both the castle walls and the bridge which was intended to allow the ruling Scaligeri family to escape northwards to the Tyrol in the event of a successful invasion or coup.

But it was the Romans who were here before the Scaligeri family and the city has several impressive reminders of them. This is the Arco dei Gavi a rare privately funded archway that originally stood along the Via Postumia and was incorporated into Verona's city walls in the 12th century. In the later 1300s it was incorporated into the Scaligeri castle and had the pediment and attic level removed to allow for a walkway into the castle.

In 1550 it ceased to be a gateway into the city and was sold off with two shops opening within the arch. The surrounding walls were demolished leaving it free-standing. When Napolean's troops took over Verona in the early 1800s French engineers demolished the arch, having drawn diagrams of the features and decoration, then storing the blocks of stone under the arches of the Roman arena. In the 1920s reconstruction was suggested but it would not be started until 1931 when the original pieces were re-erected with the attic and pediment redesigned from the diagrams made by the French engineers.

The impressive Roman Arena was built in the year 30 CE. At the time the site would have been outside the city walls. It was designed to hold 30,000 spectators and drew audiences from many miles away. Today concerts and, famously, operas are held within it, the space taken by the stage meaning that it's modern audience capacity was reduced to 20,000-22,000 with subsequent health and safety precautions bringing it down to 15,000.

In 1117 a major earthquake destroyed the outer ring apart from a tiny portion seen here. The city has since crowded around and upto the arena and it is almost impossible to get a decent photograph of the existing portion of the outer wall.

I did my best! The streets facing the wall of the outer ring are narrow and it was impossible to stand far enough away unless you were only end-on to the remaining wall.

Our excursion included tickets to go inside and look round. First we had to remove a couple who had burrowed into our midst in the hope of getting in free. They tried to appear confused and act as though they had made a genuine mistake, but come on...! In the end, our guide stood by the turnstile and just yanked them out of the queue as we passed!

And out we came from the darkness of the vast tunnels under the seating areas and into the arena. Miss Franny baulked at climbing up the steep steps and is sitting with her back to us just to the right of the steps seen through the gap in the fence to the right of centre. I climbed up enough to get a shot of the stage but there were still a good number of rows of seating - the bare rock variety - behind me.

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?" Spoiler warning - look away now if of a nervous disposition... Neither Romeo nor Juliet ever existed. The house with the balcony at 23 Via Cappello dates from the 13th century and was owned then by the Capello family who were probably Shakespeare's inspiration for the Capulet family. But the clincher is probably the fact that the balcony which looks so right, was added to the house shortly after the City of Verona bought the house in 1905... Nice try though.

Under the balcony and against the edge of the garden is a bronze statue of Juliet, its chest burnished bright by many grasping hands. Apparently stroking the right breast brings good luck and long-lasting love, but many young men get confused over left and right...

It has also become a custom to leave love messages inscribed on bits of paper, old tickets and more yukkily on chewed and flattened chewing gum stuck to the wall of the house. What could be more romantic than indenting your beloved's name on a soggy bit of well-chewed spoggy...?

It was crowded and really hot in the tiny garden under the balcony. A few of us went to sit on a bench out of the sun under a short tunnel that was the entrance to the garden. All was well with Kell, Denise and ourselves until the large Italian seen sitting right next to me on the far right let out the most enormous fart... Kell's eyebrows hit the ceiling then the giggles started and at the point where someone said accusingly "Cor - Romeo!!!" the Italian got slowly up and walked away!

The guide collected us and took us to look at the family palace of the Scaligeri family whose courtyard was filled with their highly decorated tombs. As we were all standing outside the palace walls we could only see the tops of them. The guide was a teacher and was under the impression we would be dying to know the dates of birth, marriage and death of each tomb's occupant(s) - I was getting fed up and Terry had found an ice cream shop... We left the others to it!

We were still close to the arena and on one side found all the props and scenery stored for the next performance. I'd hazard a guess at Aida!

It had gotten far too hot to contemplate walking about much more and our time before the return to the coach was shrinking rapidly. We all decided to go for a drink in the bar where we had bought the ice creams a bit ago.

Terry ordered a litre of beer. "That's only small isn't it?" he asked, "I only want a small one..."

Lake Garda and Northern Italy, 2003 Index

La Rocca, Riva del Garda's Medieval Castle

Wednesday 30 June 2003. After our jaunt to Torbole, we arrived back at Riva at the top end of Italy's Lake Garda, with sore feet and a desire to sit for a bit and do nothing much. The soreness in the feet has since worn off, but the desire to sit and do nothing has strangely remained...

So we found an empty bench on the corner of La Rocca, Riva's medieval castle and fortress.

It has a history going back to the year 1124 CE when the citizens of Riva were granted the right to build a castle here. Since then it was done up somewhat in the 1500s as a suitable lodging place for any passing Prince Bishops who may have wanted to spend a night or couple of months and in the mid 1800s was totally rearranged inside to turn it into a barracks for the Austro-Hungarian armies.

It is small, but formidable and even moated all the way around. Once the armies had done with it in more recent times it had some more restorative work done, and some of its early medieval structures were found and in 2003 it housed and still houses a museum.

I came over all arty and got the pad and pencil out for half an hour's scribbling. As we sat on a bench to sketch it we listened to a concert of film music coming from inside. If you look in any brochure for Lake Garda you will find a photograph from this viewpoint. It is the one crucial image - like a photograph of Blackpool Tower is crucial to any brochure of Blackpool.

We wern't sure whether it was a free concert or not so we went to have a look. Inside we heard a warning twittering and looked up to see some of the small birds who had shared our food in the cafe had built a nest under the archway. It didn't look as though we could get in!

Looking down the western arm of the moat towards the 30-mile length of Lake Garda with the mountains on the eastern side visible. As Riva sits between mountains on both sides the light goes quickly and early.

We still had a couple of hours of daylight left though and at a lakeside cafe we got re-acquainted with a latte machiatto each - warm milk with a shot of espresso poured in. This was to become our favourite Italian luxury!

Then Miss Franny seemed to want to go window shopping for some reason. She found a Murano glassware shop and went all misty-eyed and wistful. "We have a day at Venice coming up during the week," I said hastily. A few day's reprieve for the wallet then... That night after our evening meal at the hotel we and our fellow travellers on the Leger tour would be going on a speedboat trip after dark on the lake. We were going to call at the first town to the south on the banks of the lake: Limone.

Lake Garda and Northern Italy, 2003 Index