Saturday morning Carlisle! Vibrant with Morris dancers practicing on the cathedral’s front lawn, markets down every side alley, and strolling folk. The teenagers market provides marketing mentors for the youth selling their wares. Nearly forty stalls! No Xbox in sight.
Airbnb provided a room in a two-up two-down terrace. The old ‘front room’ was surprisingly big. Carpet tacks on the stairs bit deep into unwary bare feet at 4am, properly waking the zombie brain.
The lift at the visitors centre had it’s special foible:
The roast company provided an opportunity to give yorkshire pudding another go; a previous experience had involved a lump of fatty dough. Pigs in blankets, shredded turkey, roast vegetables in a yorkshire pudding open pie… 😋
Carlisle museum proudly exhibits the results of a volunteer dig which brought the community together. The artifacts and figurines are impressive enough, but the real treasure lies in the volunteers stories, as told by themselves. Young and old, all rightly proud of their part.
The museum has much on the Roman’s, who were so organized! Camps laid out in streets, tents made from neatly-sewn calf hide, and a belief in education.
Round the corner, a sign: ‘Black memories matter.’ The museum has completed a search of it’s inventory and found only one item relating to Black history in the UK. They are actively calling for items and stories.
With such progression in Carlisle, like any city, there’s a dodgy element. In Carlisle’s case, amongst the gnome population:
Whilst the castle may dominate the skyline:
.. the real life is in the lanes and alleys!
Stories for you - Enjoy! 