Barnard Castle Part 1

I was going to blog about Barnard Castle, the castle that gives its name to the rather charming and pretty market town. The place  has always been known for being aforesaid pretty and charming. It's also famous for the private boys' school ( it might be co ed now )  of the same name which is adjacent to the village.

It came to the public eye last summer during the covid enquiry when Boris Johnson's right hand man, Dominic Cummings, said that he had driven to Barnard Castle to test his eye sight.

That's a distance of 270 miles.....during lockdown.

Anyway,  more about that next week.

The castle has been there since the 11th century and was finally abandoned in the 17th century. As ruins go, it's fairly spectacular. It used to belong to Richard the 3rd. 

It sits right on the River Tees, high on a hill, next the village. A path surrounds it, the gardens and greens nearby are carefully tended with many viewpoints and benches.  You can tell that tourists are very welcome. The place is not big- and parking is free for two hours!  That's time to do the walk, have a coffee, look for your pals' books in the bookshop and then set off for Harrogate a few miles to the south- I was going to a publisher's party there.

I wanted to see the castle because I need to borrow it for a book.  So we were wandering around. Three times men stopped to tell us where to go. And they were all the same type of man; male, slim, very tanned, late 60's, wearing shorts with a folded up carrier bag under their left arm.

I noticed it. Then He noticed it and for Him to notice anything, it must be very obvious.

By the time the 4th one stopped us, asking if we wanted to know where to get the best pic of the castle, I asked, bluntly, if they worked for the tourist board as an undercover agent or something. He laughed, his name was Bailey ( a very unusual name here, usually given to golden retrievers ) and he said that they were just friendly people in the north of Englandshire. And retired. And bored. And it was a good way to make friends. He said that the previous week, he had met two young Swedish women and they had wanted to pay him for a guided tour. He said no, but they could treat him to a bit of lunch instead.

Not the sort of thing to say to a crime writer.  I explained what I did and that I was on my way to Harrogate Crime Writing Festival. And he said, something like, 'Oh my goodness, they were in no danger from me.'  'Yes,' I said, 'but who would know if you had disappeared, into the boot of their hire car with the bin bags and the Gaffa tape.'  Then he told us the story of his friend who lived in the middle terrace over there - he gesticulated..... and we chatted for another twenty minutes while He ( my He) kept checking the time on his phone as his cake was in jeopardy due the free parking time constraints.

What was the story?  Well, you will have to wait until  the book after this next one to find out what that was all about.

Stories everywhere, eh?

Meanwhile, here's some pics of the castle.

The beautiful lawns

The terrace house he was talking about!!

That's a very narrow, very ancient bridge. Traffic controls in use to get across.

The view of the river from the bridge

It's very impressive from the path down here.

Apart from rivalries for the crown, the castle was used to protect the border area from the hooligan marauders to the north.... 

Very lovely, tourist friendly.

The entrance gate in the main wall.

We were too late to go in.

The main castle defence, looking out over the flat land around.

This pointy bit is going in the book!

And somebody is going off the top!

New defence flying over the old defence.

The river still has its dangers.

This would be the view of any attacking army.

That line in the wall shows a flood line from 1621, I think it says.

Lovely pointy bit....

Him, hands clasped, desperate to get to the cake!