Angels, Fairies and Wizards

By Rachel Kruft Welton

It was a long way, so we (Saskia, Eartha and I) set off early, collecting Lynn, Faye, Megan and their friend Sarah on the way. The top box was still on the car from our trip to Norway, and we managed to fill it, despite only planning to be away for two nights. The trip to Northumberland was 285 miles, which is why we haven't been for years. It takes less time to get to pretty much anywhere in Europe, even including checking in time at the airport.Highlights of the journey included ordering ‘Dulux’ hot chocolate at a Little Chef (Eartha's mispronunciation) and eating our picnic next to some propane tanks at a petrol station. There were probably better, more photogenic picnic spots available, but we felt we hadn't properly adopted the mantra of “It's Grim Oop North” if we went about looking for pretty bits all the time. As we got back on the road, we passed a caravan with a sign in the back window reading: “WE ARE SORRY FOR HOLDING YOU UP. UNLESS YOU ARE JEREMY CLARKSON.”

Poison Garden at Alnwick Castle

Driving along, we suddenly saw signs to the Angel of the North. This huge iron sculpture has been guarding the A1 at Gateshead since 1989. I have always wanted to see it, but it hadn't occurred to me that we would pass it on the way. We swung off the road and went for a nosy.The Angel is 20m tall, made of rusting red steel and spreads its wings 54m, making it look as though it is top heavy. We sat on its toes for a while, then went down the hill to take photos. You have to go right to the bottom before you can get the whole Angel in the picture. A gaggle of Chinese tourists were down there also taking photos, and they took some of us too. We did some stupid Angel poses, much to their amusement.

We arrived in Rothbury by about 4pm and settled into the bunkhouse by the river. We were in a room of seven bunks above a cafe. It was crowded but not uncomfortable. There wasn't a huge amount of room to put things, but it didn't matter for just two nights. Lynn, with a foresight I hadn't possessed, had cooked and packaged some bolognaise and brought some pasta to cook for us all. On the down side, the kitchen contained one egg saucepan, a pair of hotplates that didn't get hot, no colander or saucepan lids and enough plates for a small army. Lynn stormed downstairs and threatened the chef in the main cafeteria that she would disembowel him with a fork if he didn't hand over some equipment pronto. The chef produced a large saucepan, developed a fear of cutlery, and went home sharpish as soon as he could. By the time we realised we needed a colander, he'd legged it out of the building.

Options for straining boiling pasta when you have no lid or colander:
a) the wastepaper basket. This fine wickerwork item will certainly separate the pasta from the water, however it may suffer water damage and is not all that hygienic.b) the plastic cutlery tray. Small holes in the bottom of this tray may allow straining, but pasta and water is likely to slop out all over the sink, as the tray is not very deep. Precision and patience will be required.c) fishing out the pasta from the water with a fork. Life is too short to chase seven portions of slimy pasta shapes around a large saucepan. If you do choose this method, the finished product will be stone cold by the time you have collected it all.d) a plastic container holding cleaning items under the sink. With a good scrub, this item could be the answer to your prayers. Its sides rise to a depth of around 4" and a floral cut-away design allows good drainage.We went for option d, once Lynn had disparaged my other suggestions. Necessity, as they say, is the mother.We needed to stretch our legs a bit, after so long in the car, so we went for a wander around Rothbury, which has a selection of the weirdest shops I have ever had to try to describe. There was one selling plastic animal figurines and stuffed taxidermy specimens, another sold skulls and dumper truck toys. Maybe the small boys of Northumberland have a peculiar taste in toys. We took some photos on a bike tied to the railings outside a shop with a huge wallpaper coated giraffe in it. The whole village was full of little shops, established before the outbreak of war (possibly the Crimean). Only the Co-op seemed new.   

  
We skirted the gas-lamp and memorial before taking a look at the river. Back at the hostel, the girls painted their toenails for a while, except for Sarah, who flaked out immediately in all her clothes and didn't move again until the morning.

Breakfast was served in the cafe downstairs. The petrified chef didn't make an appearance, but sent out extra toast. We purchased some ham and wraps in the Co-op and then left Rothbury on a road called Town Foot. I couldn't make it up.After a couple of loops of Alnwick, we eventually found the entrance to the car park and made our way into the castle. The place is quite sizeable and the gardens are worth a day trip on their own. It quickly became apparent that we wouldn't be able to see it all. One of the reasons for coming to Alnwick had been to see the Poison Garden. It is actually quite a small, fenced area to one side of a cascade of waterfalls down a hillside. We had to wait for a guided tour, as for some reason they don't like people wandering around, fingering the lethal foliage.

The tour was around 15 minutes, and in that time we learnt how to inflict pain, suffering, blisters and possibly death using various methods and diverse plants. Some of the species we saw included the mundane: rhubarb, catnip and rosemary; the illegal (Kat and cannabis); and the less well known, in the form of angel's trumpet, giant hogweed and castor bean. I shall no doubt be using my new found knowledge to off some unwanted characters (in my writing! What did you think I meant?).The next area we took a look at was called the Serpentine Garden. It's theme was water and it was very cleverly done. Each fountain or water feature explored a different characteristic of water. Water formed a vortex here and a curtain there. It bulged with a meniscus in one place, and reflected off its surface in another. The hydrostatic pressure fountain took a long time to fill, and we spent the time listening to cruel parents telling their offspring that they wouldn't get wet if they stood right in the centre. Judging from the dampness of the floor where the children were standing, I guessed the parents were lying. They were, although many seemed to have brought towels, so I guessed they'd played this joke before. The pressure reached the top of the tubes and with a whoosh, the entire area shot fountains up from underfoot, soaking the children, who ran about with squeals of delight.

Our teens explored a bamboo maze, while Lynn and I sat and had a cup of tea and a sneaky bit of cake (the girls will never notice). Afterwards, we decided to spend some time over at the castle, before coming back and doing some more of the gardens.   The castle has been the home of the Percy family for many generations and can be spotted in series such as Downton Abbey and the Harry Potter films. After lunch on the wall, we toured the grand state rooms. I spent some time admiring a pair of ornate 400 year old cabinets with Sarah. I also want a library like theirs, with ladders and balconies.

Eartha and Saskia discovered there was a lion trail. In each room, a small stuffed toy lion was hidden and they needed to find it, in return for a badge at the finish. Needless to say, they would have collected the badge anyway, regardless of the answer. I sometimes forget, when they are with their older siblings, that they are only 12. Sometimes it is good for them to have some time apart from their siblings, so they can just be their own age, instead of trying to be three years older than they really are all the time.On that thought, we found ourselves out in the courtyard watching a group of children and several adults being taught how to ride a broomstick.  It was the area where the same scene had been filmed in the first Potter movie. There was a lot of running up and down with brooms between the knees and humorous banter from the chief wizard and his sidekick. After a while, Saskia and Eartha joined the end of the line, quietly grabbing unclaimed brooms from the cart. We managed to get some decent pictures of them making their brooms float, and finally both of them flying, once they had got the hang of it.Lynn and I split up at that point, as my two wanted to continue with some of the children's activities and the older girls (all 16 already) were less interested in such things and wanted to visit the dungeon and meet the Duchess. Saskia, Eartha and I headed off to the Knight's Quest, past Sir Henry Hotspur and the girls got to dress up in medieval princesses costumes for a bit (even though the dresses were a little small). They made soap from what looked like lard, porridge and bits of lavender and saved Ralph Percy from imminent destruction in the Dragon Quest. By the time we'd managed such heroic deeds, the dungeon had shut and we headed back to the gardens via the gift shop.There was still much to see, but the day was getting late. Eartha wanted to do the Fairytale Trail, which involved a route around the entire site, I think. I loved the ornamental garden, and the musical bench, which played a tinkling sound if you held hands across it (forming a circuit). There was a tree with three blind mice in it, and a long zig-zag through the cherry trees. Humpty Dumpty sat looking glum; a lion lorded over the path and fairies hung in tree branches. There was a room of mirrors and a little witches hut. It would all have been better at a slower speed, but the place was closing. 

We never did get to the Treehouse and cafe. That will have to wait for next time.

First published in VISA 125 (February 2016)

Read more of Rachel's travel blogs here.