Yesterday Mothermouse and I visited Haddon Hall and artisan
fair. The Hall is a 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th
century building with one wall dating back to 1100 and elevated gardens some
thirty meters above a lovely meandering river. What isn’t meter thick stone
walls is 2½ inch oak doors and high leaded windows. This would become important
later. Between hot sun and heavy rain we wandered the tented artisans and then
the hall itself. Dates are one thing but staring at a 3 inch solid oak worktop
worn clean through by 16 generations of servants brings a richer meaning. We
wander through the banqueting hall and oak panelled galleries with massive
hanging tapestries and end up walking through a heavy oak door into the simple
elegant gardens. Mothermouse spotted a small summerhouse stacked with chairs
and as it was raining we decided on a rollup in said building on said chairs.
We continued down to the lower garden looking for the exit. As no solid oak
doors were open we wandered back to the one we came out of. This was also shut.
Slowly our minds assembled the facts, an impregnable building on the one hand
and a 30 meter shear drop on the other and the staff packing up ready to go
home. In a flash Mothermouse was on her mobile Googling Haddon Hall’s phone
number. She explains we’re in the garden and, yes with the house on our right,
good, and gone down the steps, OK, and we’re standing by the pond. “We don’t
have a pond.” It transpired Mouthermouse had phoned Haddon Hall Care Home. Back
to Google. Man answers, “Lucky we answered it” in a jocular if somewhat irked
tone suggesting he’d already got his coat on and it was a long walk back
through the banqueting hall, long oak panelled galleries etc. He opened a door
and quizzed us on what exactly were we doing in the summerhouse for so long,
and probably thinking we might well be escapees from the similarly named care
home. Even now, a day later, I don’t know what we’d have done if he hadn’t
answered. I know smoking is bad for you but I’d never considered dieing of
exposure in the back garden of centuries old castle.
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