Tuesday, 9 September 2025, The Lake District, The Swan Hotel
Written 7 October 2025
This morning, breakfast opened early for us, at 6:30 am. Our bags had to be ready, just inside our rooms, for pick-up at 7 am. And we had to be on the bus—our definitive, dedicated Tauck bus that will be with us for the rest of the trip—and ready to go at 8 am. The driver who'll travel with us is Mick.
This would also be our most bus-intensive day of the itinerary, over 200 miles. According to Stefano, gas costs about a pound a liter here. The bus holds 100 gallons in its left tank and 200 in its right, so filling it costs 1200 pounds!
Once we were loaded up, we left Edinburgh and headed for parts south, passing through this busy field of windmills along the way. On the bus, Stefano handed around our final piece of Scottish swag—for each of us a tartan scarf/table runner, which he chose according to our coloration and what we were wearing. David's is in shades of blue and mine in shades of tan and brown. They're only acrylic, but Stefano said we should tell everyone they're cashmere. They're amazingly soft and light.
At midmorning, we made a comfort stop in Jedburgh (still Scotland) for coffee, tea, and snacks at the Abbey Bridge Café and Bakery.
It's a convenient location and has good restrooms, but it was chosen partly because its parking lot commands this striking view of the ruins of historic Jedburgh Abbey, another of King David I's 12th-century foundations.
Again, in many of the fields we passed, round hay bales were stacked along the road for pickup. And leaving Jedburgh, in addition to the usual horses, cattle, and sheep, I spotted a llama tethered near someone's house!
At Carter Bar, on the border between Scotland and England, we stopped for a photo op with the imposing boundary stone. At the left, a couple from Hawaii that we got to know pretty well on the tour pose on the "Scotland" side.
At the right I am standing by the England side.
That stop was also where I was able to get this shot of the bus, prominently emblazoned wth the company name. Actually, it belongs to City Circle Tours (Mick works for them, too) but is on long-term lease to Tauck.
Next up, shortly after we crossed the River Tyne, was a visit to the Chesters Roman Fort and the museum of the work of John Clayton (1792–1890), the man who saved Hadrian's wall from destruction. He did so by buying up many miles of the land it ran across and excavating it, amassing a large collection of Roman artifacts along the way. The grounds of the small museum where the collection is now displayed included lots of interesting and (to me) new plants. At the right here is a rare (in my experience) beechnut—the fruit of the beech tree, long portrayed (not very accurately) on the label of beechnut gum.
The collection trends heavily toward fragments of stone inscriptions like those at the left, but it includes a few more striking pieces, like this statue of Juno Regina standing on a heifer, as well as fragments of arms and armor, pieces of bronze statues, figurines, and a rare Roman military diploma—a document granting an auxiliary soldier Roman citizenship in recognition of his 25 years of service.
At the left here are Roman-era iron caltrops. They worked on horse-mounted cavalry back in the day, injuring the horses' hooves, and they work on rubber-tired military vehicles today as well.
On this panel at the right, you can see an aerial view of an excavated Roman fort (which protected the nearby section of the Hadrian's wall). It was maybe a quarter mile away, accessible by walking path, but David and I opted not to make the hike to look at it up close. The figurine of a dog between the aerial view and Clayton's portrait is in the museum. It's just a couple of inches high.
Back in the bus headed for our lunch stop, we paralleled Hadrian's wall for quite a distance. It's easily visible from the road, so I got a couple of photos as we drove by.
It's It's only about 4 feet high now, and doesn't look as though it would stop anyone, but that's because the top half of it is gone. Like many Roman ruins, it was half buried over the centuries, and the top of it was (like those of so many other such structure) "mined" for building stone. What we see now are just the sections Clayton managed to save and to excavate.
As usual, as we drove, Stefano provided information:
The poster shown here at the left is typical of the sort of whimsical artwork on display throughout the house. I was struck by this set of thistle-themed glassware, which we passed on our way to the dining room. Each glass is in the shape of a thistle flower, and their clear upper rims are etched with branches of thistle.
The Castletown estate is 4000 acres, lying between the Rivers Eden and Esk. It was purchased in 1802 by Robert Mounsey, and the house was built in 1811 (by Peter Nicholson, a famous architect). The current occupants are the ninth generation of the family to live here. It's a working farm, which Clemmie manages day to day, with the help of two shepherds, a stockman for the cattle, and seasonal help as necessary. (I think the farm's principal production is lamb. Because the sheep are of a variety bred for meat production, the wool they produce is of low quality and goes mainly to the inexpensive-carpet industry.) She runs the house together with a cook/housekeeper, whom we met over prelunch drinks. Some day workers come in to do the cleaning. The house is available as an event venue, and several of the bedrooms can be rented for overnight stays. The ornamental gardens are the project of Gile's wife Penelope, who has a full-time gardener. I think a second gardener cares for the orchards, vegetable gardens, chickens, ducks, and whatnot. And there must be at least one groom, as the whole family rides and keeps a stable of horses. After lunch, we toured the upstairs guestrooms (the ones available for rent), then the gardens, which featured many huge old rhododendrons, a lovely fountain surrounded by blue-eyed grass, multicolored composites, roses, blue sage, and hydrangeas. Under a couple of large pine trees were tight clusters of tiny little blooming cyclamens. We were accompanied by a couple of dogs. Someone asked about the small one. According to Clemmie it is half long-haired dachshund and half Jack Russell terrier.
At the left here are plum leaf crab apples. At the right is a vine I took to be a wild clematis, but Picture This claims it common hops (maybe) or bladder campion (definitely note). Any ideas? On our was back to the bus, we crossed paths with Penelope, who was out riding with the two younger children (the oldest was at school; it was her first day after summer vacation). At lunch, Clemmie had told us about the dilemma she and her husband face with regard to inheritance. The children are still young, and they think they've got about a year to make up their minds before the decision must be stated as fait accompli so that all three grow up thinking of it as a forgone conclusion. The two oldest children are girls; the third is a boy. The estate is not entailed, but the strong family tradition has always been to pass the estate on to the oldest son. That's what Giles and Penelope did—Clemmie's husband has older sisters, but the estate was passed to him (Giles and Penelope retired from management and moved to a smaller house on the estate so that Clemmie and her husband could move into the "big house."). Everyone agrees that the estate should be kept together and not divided among the next generation. If they decide to break with tradition and leave the estate to the oldest child, a daughter, will that create tension with their childrens' cousins, who could have been living in that big house if their grandparents had made that decision? Will it cause resentment of the grandparents, who are, after all, still living and well known to all of them? But if they leave the estate to their son, will they (or their daughters) feel the daughters have been short-changed? A tough one. For better photos and more information, check out the Castletown House website: https://www.historichouses.org/house/castletown-house/visit/ At the left is my room, and spread on the end of the bed, on top of the hotel's blue blanket, is my tartan scarf, souvenir of Edinburgh. On earlier pages of this diary, you'll see others like it, but not in brown, e.g., on the Tauck desk at the Sheraton, under the haggis destroyed by Robbie the piper.
We had lunch at Castletown House, a (14-bedroom) privately owned farmhouse in Rockcliffe, near Carlisle. Tauck has been visiting the family there for 35 years (currently Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, April through October)! We would normally have been hosted by the Giles, the 77-year-old patriarch, and his daughter-in-law Clemmie, but he had been called away to London on business, Clemmie dealt with us on her own. (Her husband—Giles' son and, along with Clemmie and their children, current occupant of the house—has a day job in London and is only home four days a week.)
Clemmie is utterly charming, and this was by far the best "home visit" we've ever had on a tour. We were served a buffet lunch of coronation chicken (chicken salad with curry and mango chutney in it), Cumbrian sausage, rice salad, and green salad. All yummy. For dessert, we had apple crumble with cream. The apples were grown here, and they have a bumper crop of them this year. Clemmie sat at the table with us and fielded questions throughout the meal.
The orchards were impressive. The row of espaliered apple trees are so prolific this year, that Clemmie encouraged us to take a bucket of them on the bus for later, but nobody took her up on it!
After a scenic drive through the English lake district—England's most popular vacation destination—we arrived at our hotel for the night, the Swan at Newby Bridge.
I don't have very good notes on our dinner that night at the hotel. Perhaps I have the printed menu somewhere among my memorabilia, but I don't have it to hand as I write. Perhaps it will turn up later.
At the left, clearly focaccia with a couple of spreads.
At the right, David's salad of tomatoes, cheese, and herbs, drizzled with balsamic glaze.
Mixed fried things. Maybe shrimp and vegetables, tempura style?
David's ravioli. I don't remember what they contained, but he thought it sounded like a good idea at the time.
My shrimp, clams, squid, and peas in tomato sauce. The clams were especially good.
Dessert, which may have been one of many variations on sticky toffee pudding that we had on the trip.
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