Denise has been dying to see our castle. She and Jenny almost went at Christmas last year when they were over…but didn’t. Today Denise finally managed to see our castle.
First built sometime in the 12th century by the Normans, the single tower on a mound approach seemed sufficient. A little later, Henry II pulled it down and built some stone walls around the mound. A little later than that, the Bishop of Winchester decided it would be much nicer as a garden and orchard.
Eventually it became one of those Victorian follies that authors spent gallons of ink describing without really knowing what it was once for.
When the archaeologists moved in they had to guess about a lot of it. These days it’s a delightful vestige which overlooks Farnham in one direction and the park in another.
It sits at the top of Castle Street (once called Upper Street because it led up to the castle) accessed by the blind bishop’s steps. Seven steps by seven paces, it says and so it is.
We had a jolly good wander (we almost had the place completely to ourselves) before heading back to Waitrose for shopping via as many alleys as I could find. I say ‘back’ because we’d already been to Starbucks.
Back at home we tried not disturb Mirinda who was busy working away with phone call after phone call after phone call. I decided to not be left out and did some work of my own. Denise worked her way through a series on Netflix.
Late in the afternoon I took the girls to the park amid glorious autumn leaves. The day was just as glorious.