A more leisurely day was planned today, although we still wanted to get out and about before the forecast rain arrived later in the day. So we ate our porridge pots in our room and were in the car, ready to roll, at 9.30am.
I had purchased tickets for Castle Howard online before we set out and, pleasingly, managed to get a decent student discount on them – interestingly and not unreasonably when we got to the ticket office they did to check our cards.
Google Maps showed us a short journey of 43 minutes and 23 miles. However, this was not on large, wide, fast roads, and I may have grumbled as we travelled mile after mile along what were effectively just-over-single-track roads.
On the way, we talked about what we knew about Castle Howard, which turned out just to be that it had been used in Brideshead Revisited. We wondered if Catherine Howard had anything to do with it. It turns out it was actually built after Henry VIII had grown tired of her and had her beheaded, so probably not.
We correctly deduced that the castle had nothing to do with Howard the Duck, Frankie Howard, Russell Howard or Roy Castle either. So our historical knowledge was clearly comprehensive.
Our plan was to explore as much of the grounds as possible before the promised rain arrived. We walked down to the boathouse, which had been converted into a café with a lovely seating area overlooking the lake. It was very serene and pretty.
Karen compared it to Salhouse or Ranworth, whilst I thought it was more Disney Springs. We clearly have very different reference points.
Whatever it was, we sat for a while supping our hot drinks and enjoying the view.
Conscious that we could see some darker clouds appearing on the horizon, we continued with our walk around the grounds and headed back in the direction of the house before veering off to walk to the Temple of the Four Winds, where there was an art installation called Library of the Four Winds.
Now, ‘art installations’ are not usually my thing, as I am something of a philistine when it comes to these things. This one, however, I got and really liked it.
Inside the ‘temple’ or folly was a large rotating bookcase on a base of mirrors. As it turned, there was a projection of words onto it, accompanied by speakers reading them out. I thought it was a clever use of the space and quite meaningful.
Typically, Karen thought the opposite.
Another example of when I am right…..
From here we walked back to the formal gardens and the Atlas Fountain (not working), which the main frontage of the house overlooks. It is certainly a statement piece, but we were more taken by the gardeners, who were cutting the hedges after constructing laser-level plumb lines as a guide.
This was precision trimming on an industrial scale, and from the sections they had already cut, the result was amazingly straight. I was tempted to ask if they did domestic gardens as well, although I suspected my conifer hedging might not meet their exacting standards.
According to the weather apps, we had just one hour of dry weather left, and so we decided to have another drink and a scone each for lunch outside on the lawn next to the house.
As Karen put it, we have had lunch in worse places, and those didn’t have peacocks walking between the tables.
Then we went inside the house.
I was immediately bored.
The rooms and furniture did very little for me, although the volunteer guides in each room were immensely proud of them and the restoration work that had been carried out. I’m sure it was all very interesting. I just wasn’t sure it was interesting to me.
Karen told me off for rushing, but the shuffling along brought on my sciatica, and so I went way ahead in search of somewhere to sit and wait for her. I eventually found a seat about halfway round and settled down to await her arrival, having apparently reached the point in life where historic houses are best appreciated from a chair.
The final part of the house was just one long wing that I actually quite liked.
Not for the paintings, which were quite awful and would, in my opinion, be wasted taking up valuable room in a skip. Instead, they would at least provide some heat on a bonfire.
No, I liked the floorboards.
Lovely long, wide, thick planks, and lots of them.
I also liked the volunteer playing the piano, filling the entire wing with ambient music. Personally, I would have marked out a Pickleball court at one end of the wing and thought a bowling alley could be installed at the other.
It would have made much better use of the space.
We walked back to the formal flower and kitchen gardens, which were very well cared for and certainly worth a wander around.
Finally, we walked back to the car just as a few spots of rain started to fall. We had timed it perfectly, as it was almost proper rain by the time we were driving back to Thirsk.
Karen wanted to get something from Boots, so we parked in the market square and, once she had made her purchase, had a quick wander around in the now very light rain.
After an hour back at The Poplars, we were soon parking again in the market square. This time we were there for dinner at Bianco’s restaurant.
Despite it only being 5pm, they just managed to squeeze us in. It is obviously very popular and seemed to be full of locals who, like us, wanted to take advantage of the Happy Hour two-course menu.
We both had the prawn cocktail, which was enormous. Karen followed this with lasagne, whilst I had a pizza which was far too large for one person.
They were all good, and I took just under half of the pizza away with me. I’m not sure whether that counts as dinner for the following day or simply admitting defeat.
Back in our room, we watched the last episode of the first series of The Undeclared War and another episode of Clarkson’s Farm before retiring for the night.
Another busy day in the Clare household came to an end. Although, and thankfully, there was no requirement for me to inspect any more historic dull furniture or ghastly paintings.
