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Clear The Puppies!
Apr. 1st, 2019 08:05 pmAfter a rather stressful Brexit related week, I was looking forward to the weekend we had planned in Carlisle. This was pretty last minute as we had intended to be out of the country at 11pm on Friday on account of it being Brexit Day. However, as it was postponed by a minimum of two weeks, last Friday was pretty much like any other although we did raise a glass to still being in the EU once the clock struck eleven. Added to the sense of euphoria was the release of Rammstein's new song 'Deutschland' ahead of their first album in a decade coming out in May. The song was fantastic but the video was even better, potting a history of Germany through a wide range of different events. It certainly didn't skirt around any controversial topics, as is quite typical for them, and I did find it very thought provoking indeed.
Wolfie's car needed to go for its MOT on Saturday, which is one of the reasons why we didn't head to Carlisle until the afternoon. The reason we had settled on Carlisle was largely because of the Brewdog bar there, although this also afforded us the opportunity to go on the Settle-Carlisle railway, a journey I had always wanted to do but had never actually done. With the sun shining and a rather pleasant spring day ahead of us, I was quite excited boarding the train at Leeds and the journey didn't disappoint, with wonderful scenery throughout our journey. The highlight was of course the imposing Ribblehead Viaduct, with us switching sides of the train and staring out at it in awe as we approached, but the countryside was stunning, with it only getting increasingly atmospheric the further west we went as the clouds were closing in. We had a number of train beers for the journey while watching the springtime wildlife of rabbits and deer was a delight, with the journey also being quite relaxing as our carriage was only about one third full. It was also fascinating passing through each tiny hamlet as we headed north-west, with some of the stations being quite whimsical and rural. We passed through Appleby, a place I know well fromy my youth as we met here every December to exchange Christmas presents with our Scottish relatives, and the train trip itself felt surprisingly short considering it was nearly three hours long.
Upon alighting at Carlisle station and leaving the main entrance, we noticed a fascinating keep to the left-hand side which we discovered used to be the old southern gate of the city. We turned right, away from it, and onto Botchergate which is where our hotel was. As luck would have it, Brewdog was pretty much opposite it so we decided to go in there and get our stamp, not least because there were a few spare booths there. We agonised over where best to get food, with Google telling us very little, so we decided just to stay in Brewdog and get pizza. After all, there was a range of beers we hadn't yet tried there and the atmosphere was quite lively, with the bar staff being particularly friendly. They were very interested in our Brewdog bar crawl - this being our 45th stamped bar and 48th overall - while it was also good to see a number of doggo friends in the bar throughout our time there. After food and sampling four new beers, we decided we might as well head over to the hotel and check in, which is what we did before chilling for three quarters of an hour in front of the TV. Wolfie fell asleep.
We left the hotel shortly before 9pm with the intention of hitting a few bars. However, we were soon to discover that Carlisle is rather feral on a Saturday evening, particularly on Botchergate with its large array of loud pumping bars. Walking past a takeaway, one pissed guy shouted 'that guy is a paedophile' before continuing with 'show us your beaver', while another stumbled across the road into traffic with his arms above his head singing. Considering it wasn't particularly late, this was quite shocking and the evening continued thusly with all bars either being rammed or full of loud music that made them unviable. As we were walking around, we did see some of the sites, including the pretty city centre with its neat tourist information office and the imposing cathedral which was unlike any other I have seen, but ultimately the evening was one of futility as bar after bar were unsuitable. It didn't help that The Fat Gadgie, the main craft beer bar in the city, was closed due to staff illnes while 301 Miles From London at the station shut up shop at 8pm for some reason. We were told by the police not to go onto the platform and I queried what was there to do in the city, before we concluded that Brewdog was not only the best choice, but ultimately the only one. So we headed back here and shared a flight but with the noise there becoming increasingly cocophonous, we decided to leave shortly before 11pm. I was due a free pint in the hotel bar so we took advantage of that, watching an array of pissed people come through the lobby. One of them had a doner meat and chips, upon which he ground a load of salt while singing 'diabetes, diabetes, diabetes'. He also goaded some police officers who turned up randomly, castigating them for going into his room the night before. Once they had all gone, there were also some drunken Scottish blokes singing about something or other, prompting us to go back to our room before it got roudier.
Sunday was an altogether more pleasant day, with us getting up slightly later than intended due to the clocks going forward. We were still out by noon though, with the sense of getting some food, in the end settling for a quaint little tearoom tucked behind an alleyway. The front door suggested it wasn't open on Sundays but this was also Mother's Day and they had afternoon teas to fulfil, which made service somewhat slow. Accompanying this was a rather loud bluetooth sound system playing agreeable hits from the Eighties but what this placed lacked in ambience - it was rather chintzy - it made up for in the quality of the food. The Lakeland Cheese and Ham sandwiches were absolutely divine and full of flavour, making this a far better choice than the Greggs we thought we had to resort too.
I rang my mother as we headed to Carlisle Castle, the main sight we wanted to see while we were in the city. She initially told me to stop worrying about Brexit and enjoy the day before going on to say five minutes later that my brother thought there was a 55% chance of a No Deal Brexit. That cheered me up no end. Anyway, we soon were stood outside the thick walls of this rather imposing structure and after paying the English Heritage entry fee, we were soon allowed to explore the grounds. The Half Moon Battery was arguably the most interesting aspect of the place, built as it was as a fortification for the internal castle, so-called because of its crescent shape. The fact that the castle also served as a military barracks from the mid-nineteenth century to 1959 was also fascinating as between the inner and outer perimeter there were a load of buildings built in 1930s barracks style. They all had names of famous battles such as Ypres and Arnhem, and the history of the 34th and 55th Royal Regiments based here was plotted in a museum contained within one of these buildings. This was fascinating from a specific perspective of these regiments but much of the wars covered - Crimea, Boer, WWI and WWII - are often covered so I didn't find this particularly engaging as I have done it many times before. The museum also suffered from having too much going on - distracting televisual narratives meaning I couldn't read any of the signs - but in the end you got much of the history of the soldiers here from the TVs so it didn't matter too much. Upon leaving, we also picked up three beers brewed specially for them by the local Carlisle Brewing Company.
Before we went here though, we had a look at the castle itself, which has changed significantly in the eight hundered years it has stood here. Being the most besieged castle in England means there is quite a story to tell, particularly around the 1745 Jacobite Rebellion, with the castle having a prominent roll to play. Indeed, the dungeons were used to house a number of prisoners, with the infamous licking stones smoothed out by the tongues of men who were desperate for water. Another highlight on the floors above was the Grand Hall, which had been split into two at a later date, and the carvings on the floor above, believed to be done by a bored prison guard who may have been in the wrong job. Two guards, it is believed, are responsible for these talented works, with the one who came later being particularly talented. Heraldic symbols are common, as are those of patrons and noble families, but animals also played a strong theme including the fox who was sat down teaching some chickens. Based on medieval folklore, it is a tale of the chickens being either naive or stupid. The third floor, meanwhile, had an exhibit dedicated to Carlisle's role in the Jacobite Rebellion while we also got to discover that a tower which has since been demolished once housed Mary Queen of Scots over the period of about two months.
After visiting the castle, we grabbed our second geocache of the trip (the first coming earlier in the day being placed on a cannon) before visiting the Tullie Hall Museum, a wonderously provinicial affair which was gloriously pedestrian in some places and really interesting in others, such is the history of the place. The Roman exhibit in the basement was arguably the most interesting as it plotted a detailed account of the Roman occupation of Britain, even desciphering some of the Latin on various public masonry. It also went into quite significant detail about life in Roman Britain, particularly from a military point of view, what with Carlisle effectively being a garrison town. Alas, we only had an hour in this museum so we didn't get chance to look at everything but aside from this the huge skeleton of Briggsby, a whale washed up on the beach near the village of Brigg, was another highlight while some of the more local aspects such as the flooding that hit the town in 2005 were quite interesting too. The bits about local life less so, largely because it's the same as anywhere else really, aside from the focus on a few industries such as Carr's Table Water Biscuits and the makers of the biggest industrial railway crane in history. The Old Tullie House, from where the museum gets its name, was quite good too, it being a Victorian dwelling with a rather ornate staircase. There was pictures placed down it, while there was a room dedicated to Japanese art which drew interesting parallels with local artists too.
We wanted to grab a shower after the museum, having booked the hotel until 5pm, so with the place closing at 4pm, we headed out with about ten minutes to spare. On our way back to the hotel, we called off at the stunning cathedral, which was definitely more impressive inside rather than outside. The blue and gold painted ceiling was truly exquisite, as were the carved angels jutting out of the masonry, while the stained glass windows were amongst the richest and most evocative I had ever seen. The Sunday service had just finished so we had the liberty of just wandering about, which was a relaxing way to end our trip in the city. After a ten minute wander, we walked around the grounds somewhat before heading back to our hotel, giving ourselves about fourty minutes to grab a wash and then check out.
Our train was due at 7:12pm so we had about two hours to kill, which was perfect to grab some food. We whittled the choices down to two - The Last Zebra and The Thin White Duke - opting for the latter as they had a greater range of local ale. Both of these bars had been quite lairy the night before, but were rather pleasant now, with the food in the Thin White Duke particularly tasty. I had a Brewdog battered fish burger with chunky chips, with Wolfie opting for a burger with black pudding. Both were rather nice, but I did find the fried halloumi starter a little too greasy. With the meals, we got to sample two local pints of real ale and four cans of beer from the Allendale Brewery near Hexham. Alas they did not do takeouts so we ended up sitting in the restaurant drinking, which passed the time, particularly as there was nowhere else to really go, what with 301 Miles to London at the station closing at 6pm for some reason. It was a pleasant end to the day, with great attentive staff and really nice drinks, so we were happy to while down the clock. However, with time pressing, we did get back to the station with half an hour to spare, checking that the bar there really was closed (it was) before swinging back to BrewDog to pick up some train beers. These we had on the journey home, with the ride through the gloaming adding a more mysterious atmosphere to the desolate countryside, which was yet another relaxing train journey. Speaking with Wolfie was fun too and created a real sense of togetherness, so much so that again the ride passed very quickly. We didn't want the night to end so we grabbed another beer from Tapped Brew Co once we had made it back to Leeds, with us getting a slightly later bus as a result. I did feel it this morning though.
Wolfie's car needed to go for its MOT on Saturday, which is one of the reasons why we didn't head to Carlisle until the afternoon. The reason we had settled on Carlisle was largely because of the Brewdog bar there, although this also afforded us the opportunity to go on the Settle-Carlisle railway, a journey I had always wanted to do but had never actually done. With the sun shining and a rather pleasant spring day ahead of us, I was quite excited boarding the train at Leeds and the journey didn't disappoint, with wonderful scenery throughout our journey. The highlight was of course the imposing Ribblehead Viaduct, with us switching sides of the train and staring out at it in awe as we approached, but the countryside was stunning, with it only getting increasingly atmospheric the further west we went as the clouds were closing in. We had a number of train beers for the journey while watching the springtime wildlife of rabbits and deer was a delight, with the journey also being quite relaxing as our carriage was only about one third full. It was also fascinating passing through each tiny hamlet as we headed north-west, with some of the stations being quite whimsical and rural. We passed through Appleby, a place I know well fromy my youth as we met here every December to exchange Christmas presents with our Scottish relatives, and the train trip itself felt surprisingly short considering it was nearly three hours long.
Upon alighting at Carlisle station and leaving the main entrance, we noticed a fascinating keep to the left-hand side which we discovered used to be the old southern gate of the city. We turned right, away from it, and onto Botchergate which is where our hotel was. As luck would have it, Brewdog was pretty much opposite it so we decided to go in there and get our stamp, not least because there were a few spare booths there. We agonised over where best to get food, with Google telling us very little, so we decided just to stay in Brewdog and get pizza. After all, there was a range of beers we hadn't yet tried there and the atmosphere was quite lively, with the bar staff being particularly friendly. They were very interested in our Brewdog bar crawl - this being our 45th stamped bar and 48th overall - while it was also good to see a number of doggo friends in the bar throughout our time there. After food and sampling four new beers, we decided we might as well head over to the hotel and check in, which is what we did before chilling for three quarters of an hour in front of the TV. Wolfie fell asleep.
We left the hotel shortly before 9pm with the intention of hitting a few bars. However, we were soon to discover that Carlisle is rather feral on a Saturday evening, particularly on Botchergate with its large array of loud pumping bars. Walking past a takeaway, one pissed guy shouted 'that guy is a paedophile' before continuing with 'show us your beaver', while another stumbled across the road into traffic with his arms above his head singing. Considering it wasn't particularly late, this was quite shocking and the evening continued thusly with all bars either being rammed or full of loud music that made them unviable. As we were walking around, we did see some of the sites, including the pretty city centre with its neat tourist information office and the imposing cathedral which was unlike any other I have seen, but ultimately the evening was one of futility as bar after bar were unsuitable. It didn't help that The Fat Gadgie, the main craft beer bar in the city, was closed due to staff illnes while 301 Miles From London at the station shut up shop at 8pm for some reason. We were told by the police not to go onto the platform and I queried what was there to do in the city, before we concluded that Brewdog was not only the best choice, but ultimately the only one. So we headed back here and shared a flight but with the noise there becoming increasingly cocophonous, we decided to leave shortly before 11pm. I was due a free pint in the hotel bar so we took advantage of that, watching an array of pissed people come through the lobby. One of them had a doner meat and chips, upon which he ground a load of salt while singing 'diabetes, diabetes, diabetes'. He also goaded some police officers who turned up randomly, castigating them for going into his room the night before. Once they had all gone, there were also some drunken Scottish blokes singing about something or other, prompting us to go back to our room before it got roudier.
Sunday was an altogether more pleasant day, with us getting up slightly later than intended due to the clocks going forward. We were still out by noon though, with the sense of getting some food, in the end settling for a quaint little tearoom tucked behind an alleyway. The front door suggested it wasn't open on Sundays but this was also Mother's Day and they had afternoon teas to fulfil, which made service somewhat slow. Accompanying this was a rather loud bluetooth sound system playing agreeable hits from the Eighties but what this placed lacked in ambience - it was rather chintzy - it made up for in the quality of the food. The Lakeland Cheese and Ham sandwiches were absolutely divine and full of flavour, making this a far better choice than the Greggs we thought we had to resort too.
I rang my mother as we headed to Carlisle Castle, the main sight we wanted to see while we were in the city. She initially told me to stop worrying about Brexit and enjoy the day before going on to say five minutes later that my brother thought there was a 55% chance of a No Deal Brexit. That cheered me up no end. Anyway, we soon were stood outside the thick walls of this rather imposing structure and after paying the English Heritage entry fee, we were soon allowed to explore the grounds. The Half Moon Battery was arguably the most interesting aspect of the place, built as it was as a fortification for the internal castle, so-called because of its crescent shape. The fact that the castle also served as a military barracks from the mid-nineteenth century to 1959 was also fascinating as between the inner and outer perimeter there were a load of buildings built in 1930s barracks style. They all had names of famous battles such as Ypres and Arnhem, and the history of the 34th and 55th Royal Regiments based here was plotted in a museum contained within one of these buildings. This was fascinating from a specific perspective of these regiments but much of the wars covered - Crimea, Boer, WWI and WWII - are often covered so I didn't find this particularly engaging as I have done it many times before. The museum also suffered from having too much going on - distracting televisual narratives meaning I couldn't read any of the signs - but in the end you got much of the history of the soldiers here from the TVs so it didn't matter too much. Upon leaving, we also picked up three beers brewed specially for them by the local Carlisle Brewing Company.
Before we went here though, we had a look at the castle itself, which has changed significantly in the eight hundered years it has stood here. Being the most besieged castle in England means there is quite a story to tell, particularly around the 1745 Jacobite Rebellion, with the castle having a prominent roll to play. Indeed, the dungeons were used to house a number of prisoners, with the infamous licking stones smoothed out by the tongues of men who were desperate for water. Another highlight on the floors above was the Grand Hall, which had been split into two at a later date, and the carvings on the floor above, believed to be done by a bored prison guard who may have been in the wrong job. Two guards, it is believed, are responsible for these talented works, with the one who came later being particularly talented. Heraldic symbols are common, as are those of patrons and noble families, but animals also played a strong theme including the fox who was sat down teaching some chickens. Based on medieval folklore, it is a tale of the chickens being either naive or stupid. The third floor, meanwhile, had an exhibit dedicated to Carlisle's role in the Jacobite Rebellion while we also got to discover that a tower which has since been demolished once housed Mary Queen of Scots over the period of about two months.
After visiting the castle, we grabbed our second geocache of the trip (the first coming earlier in the day being placed on a cannon) before visiting the Tullie Hall Museum, a wonderously provinicial affair which was gloriously pedestrian in some places and really interesting in others, such is the history of the place. The Roman exhibit in the basement was arguably the most interesting as it plotted a detailed account of the Roman occupation of Britain, even desciphering some of the Latin on various public masonry. It also went into quite significant detail about life in Roman Britain, particularly from a military point of view, what with Carlisle effectively being a garrison town. Alas, we only had an hour in this museum so we didn't get chance to look at everything but aside from this the huge skeleton of Briggsby, a whale washed up on the beach near the village of Brigg, was another highlight while some of the more local aspects such as the flooding that hit the town in 2005 were quite interesting too. The bits about local life less so, largely because it's the same as anywhere else really, aside from the focus on a few industries such as Carr's Table Water Biscuits and the makers of the biggest industrial railway crane in history. The Old Tullie House, from where the museum gets its name, was quite good too, it being a Victorian dwelling with a rather ornate staircase. There was pictures placed down it, while there was a room dedicated to Japanese art which drew interesting parallels with local artists too.
We wanted to grab a shower after the museum, having booked the hotel until 5pm, so with the place closing at 4pm, we headed out with about ten minutes to spare. On our way back to the hotel, we called off at the stunning cathedral, which was definitely more impressive inside rather than outside. The blue and gold painted ceiling was truly exquisite, as were the carved angels jutting out of the masonry, while the stained glass windows were amongst the richest and most evocative I had ever seen. The Sunday service had just finished so we had the liberty of just wandering about, which was a relaxing way to end our trip in the city. After a ten minute wander, we walked around the grounds somewhat before heading back to our hotel, giving ourselves about fourty minutes to grab a wash and then check out.
Our train was due at 7:12pm so we had about two hours to kill, which was perfect to grab some food. We whittled the choices down to two - The Last Zebra and The Thin White Duke - opting for the latter as they had a greater range of local ale. Both of these bars had been quite lairy the night before, but were rather pleasant now, with the food in the Thin White Duke particularly tasty. I had a Brewdog battered fish burger with chunky chips, with Wolfie opting for a burger with black pudding. Both were rather nice, but I did find the fried halloumi starter a little too greasy. With the meals, we got to sample two local pints of real ale and four cans of beer from the Allendale Brewery near Hexham. Alas they did not do takeouts so we ended up sitting in the restaurant drinking, which passed the time, particularly as there was nowhere else to really go, what with 301 Miles to London at the station closing at 6pm for some reason. It was a pleasant end to the day, with great attentive staff and really nice drinks, so we were happy to while down the clock. However, with time pressing, we did get back to the station with half an hour to spare, checking that the bar there really was closed (it was) before swinging back to BrewDog to pick up some train beers. These we had on the journey home, with the ride through the gloaming adding a more mysterious atmosphere to the desolate countryside, which was yet another relaxing train journey. Speaking with Wolfie was fun too and created a real sense of togetherness, so much so that again the ride passed very quickly. We didn't want the night to end so we grabbed another beer from Tapped Brew Co once we had made it back to Leeds, with us getting a slightly later bus as a result. I did feel it this morning though.
