It’s been a bit of a castle fest this summer……
CASTLES seems to feel like one of the few things that the UK can still do well.
But then again I’m not sure how many castles here, especially in the north, come with wine vineyards. This beautiful castle in Switzerland does.
Spiez Schloss.
Off we headed north to beautiful Northumberland. On this trip we were visiting a wonderfully well preserved castle.
Alnwick.
I first came here when I was at Uni, many many moons ago. It was the first time I had seen a castle that wasn’t in ruins. One you could actually walk inside, through all the rooms. It had paintings, sculptures, carpets, glass in the windows, complete ceilings. A fabulous library. It was lived in. That’s how the aristocracy lived….
Now walking around Alnwick Castle in 2025, it’s still beautifully maintained but now there is an added dimension.
Countless kids and yes some adults dressed up as wizards…
Never seen so many Harry’s and Hermione’s.
This castle is now almost more famous for being used as a film location for the first two Harry Potter movies. The first flying lesson, the early Quidditch training, Harry and Ron crashing the flying car will all filmed here.
On our trip there was no car flying but two wizard tutors were gamely trying to teach as many as possible how to fly a broomstick. As we walked past a line of broomsticks we were asked if we wanted a flying lesson. Hawklad ran off and I politely pointed out that my huge backside would need a jumbo jet sized broom, not one of those titchy things.
Later I realised maybe they had thought I was in character, looking like Hagrid who had really let himself go…..
Brough Castle, built around 1092 on the grounds of an old Roman fort.
Once a grand old well kept castle. Once an impressive, seemingly impenetrable fortress. Attacked by an army from Scotland, destroyed and rebuilt. Rebuilt to be stronger, even more impenetrable. It was for 250 years…..
Then it met its new destroying army in the form of a Christmas Party… in a desperate attempt to cook the Brussel Sprouts properly, a fire broke out, destroying much of the castle.
OK I’m guessing on the Pesky Green Veg Villain, but something went badly wrong with that Christmas Feast in 1521.
The castle was partly rebuilt in the 17th century, but within a couple of years, fire struck again. Maybe don’t have 24 fireplaces…..The harsh northern weather has subsequently taken its toll since then.
Far too many children in the UK never get the support they need from the health and education systems. Hawklad was fortunate, it took over two years but he finally started to get some of the support he needed. Over the years that support made a real difference.
Then the day he reached 18, it was pulled. There is no equivalent adult support service. It’s only been a few months since then but I have started to see some changes, not positive ones. Hard earned progress starting to slow, halt or even reverse.
How many more are in the same position.
Living in the UK has many negatives, things like the weather, road potholes, useless Water Companies, Nigel Farage, Fuel Prices, Morris Dancing, late running trains, Brexit, did I mention the WEATHER. But then again we have some beautiful landscapes and CASTLES. Lots of Castles.
So when the clouds parted we headed off to one such castle. Helmsley Castle, over 900 years of history. It’s a wonderful adventure.
Autumn in Yorkshire seems to be set in now. Day after day of dark, damp, dreary weather. The heating is now on full time now, guess it will be till 2025.
But then out of nowhere, an unexpected weather gift. The Day Forecast was really poor and the morning brought rain, lots of rain. But without warning the clouds parted. The first sight of The Sun in days.
Got to seize these gifts.
Three hours later we found ourselves 100 miles north, on a beach in Northumberland. With Cloudless skies and a Castle on the beach.
Bamburgh Castle, a setting for many a movie and tv show. It’s something like 1400 years old but unusually for round here, it’s not a ruin. Stately Home, Museum, Luxury Hotel, Wedding Venue. Definitely worth a visit, but with one piece of warning. Don’t bother bringing a bucket and spade to build your own sandcastle. It’s the finest sand ever, like walking in a Desert. Sand gets everywhere and I mean everywhere….. but it will not hold together. Definitely only one castle here.
No sign of any teaching coming from School so might as well go for a walk around Castle Howard. A quiet, beautiful walk.
Quiet, well until an international meeting.
Walking along a path and we came across a clearly confused couple looking a tad bit lost. As we approached the chap spoke, spoke in the deepest of Australian accents.
“Excuse me Mate, but we are trying to find the CASTLE”
Apparently they were on a driving holiday around the UK and had seen Castle Howard on the map and thought, let’s visit one of those King Arthur kinda places….. They had been walking around the Estate for ages and hadn’t found the old stone castle yet. Sadly I had to disappoint them.
‘See that big old house, that’s the castle”
After a few choice Australian words ##@##*#ocks, they asked if
“I knew of a proper castle round here…”
A few minutes later they had directions to three more castle like castles.
That was my third ever conversation with someone from Australia. All have been completely random affairs. The second chat was in Switzerland. We were walking in Interlaken when a family approached us and asked.
“Do you speak English, we heard you (me) singing Yellow Submarine”
Wow was I that loud…. Having confirmed the English thing, the conversation went very south of the equator.
“Do you know if there is a shop here that sells Swiss Cuckoo Clocks, the kids want to see some and we can’t find a phrase for that in our German helpful holiday phrase book..”
No I suspect it’s not a common phrase. Maybe it should be, maybe the first one the phrase book should tell you. Just like the phrase book Aliens like ET or Thanos need when they visit Earth. The first phrase being a translation of ‘take me to your leader’. Currently in the UK an alien would need to use the phrase ‘take me to your useless numpty’. Anyway the bizarre Australian conversation went even further south when we confirmed that we had just been in a shop looking at a shed load of those wonderful clocks. Once again Australians left with helpful directions.
My first Australian conversation was just as odd. I had just left Warwick University to finally earn my keep. I was working at a computer installation and I had drawn the short straw – I was covering the night shift. Well after midnight, Reception put through a call from Sydney. I took the call and happily said
‘Hello Sydney’
– whoever Sydney was. At the other end of the line was an equally happy lady with an Australian accent. Opps. I apologised.
‘Sorry, I thought the call was from someone called Sydney, not actually from Sydney…’
“No problems, I am from Sydney, but I am also called Sidney”
I found out that she hadn’t been named after the city but after the actor Sidney Poitier. Apparently her parents were huge fans and had hoped for a strapping Aussie Rules playing boy who would also be an actor just like their hero. Apparently a short, ginger haired girl who was in love with George Michael didn’t quite suit the Sidney Poitier name.
I’m actually looking forward to my next Australian conversation. They are always so bizarre.
He misses out on so much, so much of the teenage life. You can only experience so much when you spend so much time isolated. What highlights the isolation is that since March 2020 he has spent some time with only ONE friend in that time – his only contact with someone his own age. Yes a really good friend but that’s a shed load of teenage socialising missed out on. It’s not the same but when a chance to do something special for him presents itself then you grab it, regardless of the difficulties.
The alarm went off before 5am.
300 miles of driving later, two traffic jams and we park up in Cardiff.
Trying frustratingly to find facilities that weren’t too busy and that could be used without causing too much stress.
Trying to take in a bit of the history of the Capital of Wales while avoiding the crowds.
Watching the anxiety levels rise as we join the long queues to get into a huge stadium.
But then the goal. The whole point of this. Getting the wrestling mad Hawklad into the UK’s first major Wrestling Televised Live Event in 30 years, along with 62000 other crazy fans. Was I so underdressed in a grey T-shirt and Jeans…. With much trying I had obtained 2 tickets at the back but crucially in an area with some space around us. Then for 4 hours Hawklad could be part of something, experiencing something different, something exciting. A brief breakout from the isolation
Then it was over, 300 mile night driving and almost 24 hours later we arrived back home. Wow I was tired. Yes it was difficult. Yes the trip highlighted many issues that create roadblocks to eventually easing the isolation and maybe returning him to a classroom. But Hawklad did some of that exciting living and that is all that mattered.
There’s an old expression here which says
‘An Englishman’s home is his castle’.
It was actually enshrined in common lawn 1628 and basically means ‘a persons home is their refuge’. Over the years it has often been cited by the right wing as justification for the principle ‘I can do whatever I like in my own castle, that includes stuff like smacking kids, shutting down public rights of way, hunting animals, mistreating people and using whatever weapons I like to defend it’.
I’m against all those activities but the law does have its advantages. I can take on the right wing interpretation and use it to say – STUFF YOU BORIS – inside my castle your stupidity, oversized ego and corrupt government can’t touch me – I’m just going to ignore ‘YA GREAT BIG PUDDING’.
In my castle I also can get away with wearing lime green compression socks and pink shirts. It’s my right…. Nowt the law can do about it.
And the other thing about a ‘home is a castle’ is that some castles are bigger than others. Much bigger…. Some are even big enough to be used as Harry Potters school in the movies.
But there is another positive element to the castle home idea. Because of circumstances many people need those castle walls. The feeling of safety which comes from pulling up the drawbridge and being inside your own space. That certainly applies to my Hawklad with his Aspergers.
So here’s to everyone’s very own castles, whatever size and shape they may be.
Sheriff Hutton Castle is over 850 years old and was built during the reign of King Stephen. Later Richard III acquired the castle through marriage. He made the castle one of the two sites for his Council of the North. The Council was his method of running the North after he became King of England. It has since fallen into ruin. It’s recently been sold for just over £1Million. It is our local castle.
Seven years ago we nearly bought a house which backed onto this castle. The castle was only 30 paces from the garden. An epic garden view. It was at a time when we we’re going to try for a second child. So we needed a house with an extra bedroom. This house ticked so many boxes. To me being so close to a castle seemed so exciting. However in the end we didn’t buy the house and sadly my partners health soon ruled out another member of our family. Every time I pass the castle my mind wanders off to what might have been.
There where a few reasons why we didn’t move here. One of the main reasons was our son. At that time a carefree, gregarious toddler had quickly transitioned into the world of Aspergers. Suddenly his world was populated with doctors, psychologists and other health professionals. It must have been so scary and disorientating for him. The one place he felt safe was our little bungalow on the hill. The bungalow was all things to him.
His Panic Room
His Safety Zone
His Dream World
An Exclusion Zone for the many who looked at him differently because of one word
His Play Zone
His World
It was the only place he felt comfortable and relaxed. From our experience Aspergers seemed to loosen and destroy all of our sons life foundations. Life became precarious and the slightest disturbance could bring everything crashing down. His little bungalow was one of the few things which was still secure and stable. The last thing he needed was for that to be torn down as well. So we decided to stay.
We are still here in that little bungalow on the hill. It’s still such a safety net for our son. A place he feels secure and at ease in. It still excludes those who discriminate. The garden fences mark the boundaries to his world. His ramparts. In a way it is his very own modern castle.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 