Featherstone Castle - Part I

Featherstone Castle is a strange place, but having just read that it is an "activity centre for the use of young people and students"...well, I understand it better now. Dave, one of the guys in our running club who is also an avid cyclist suggested it for a weekend trip around a one night stay. He described it as grand, but basic. I looked at the website and was captured as soon as I saw the pictures and read that wood was supplied for the fireplaces.

Still, we had to take sleeping bags, so I was guessing it would be cold and damp. I was right about the latter, though the castle was relatively dry. That Saturday the heavens opened up like nothing before – well, OK it does this about once or twice a year...every few months...quite often, actually.



I thought the guys were nuts taking bikes, but that’s nothing new. Me? I took my knitting. We picked up Bob and boated along to the place. We were the first arrivals at about 3pm and set about exploring.



I had already been warned about it ‘being a rabbit warren’ – the stock British phrase for anyplace intricate – and so I just treated it like a fun house where I would deliberately get lost and of course it wasn't hard at all to misplace myself. The next day I found the floor plan for the fire escape. Truth be known, I think we would all have been toast.



Every room had 2 or 3 doors all leading to other similar rooms or rather all different sorts of rooms. There were a few bedrooms with 2 or 3 (naked) beds, many more rooms with rows of bunk beds, several big rooms (halls) with fireplaces,






more than a few kitchens stacked with cupboards full of mismatched dishes,



staircases at every turn, some up, some down, some twisting into the dark.




Also beautiful tall stone framed windows



overlooking the turbulent South Tyne River and fields of wet sheep eating wet green grass;




a startling mix of broken junky furniture



with beautiful carved antique (or at least very old) pieces, and cupboards full of dust and oddments in strange places like the walls along the stairwells or in corners between door frames.



One of the first rooms was a good sized kitchen with a huge old stove radiating heat. I learned that this was one of the famed Aga ranges I’ve read about for so long. I had no idea how one might cook on it, but since I wasn’t in charge of the vittles, I wasn’t worried about it.





A couple not in our group appeared in one of the halls I was exploring. He explained that he'd spent the night there 40 years ago and happened to be driving in the area and decided to show it to his girlfriend. They found the door open, and walked in...made me wonder who else might be around.

Another man brought his kids and his dog to check the place out, but he was a friend of Dave's and his dog was lovely.


They said it was a 'lurcher', something I've read about but not seen. She was smaller than I expected a lurcher to be, but with the wire-haired coat. I could go for a dog like this...


As soon as everyone arrived and chose their rooms, some of them decided to go for a run. Some of us decided to walk UP to the pub.