9am taxi this morning because he’s busy ferrying the children to school before then. Today’s walk was only 10Km and as all the Roman centurions have long gone, I thought I’d be finished by coffee time. I didn’t bring any coffee in my flask. For some reason I assumed there might be a legacy of the Roman occupation in the form of a coffee bar. But there wasn’t.
The weather was definitely Roman Summer. I could have drank a couple of bottles of frizzante and fruit juice. Nothing, not even an English ice cream van.
It took the Romans 8 years to build the wall. Wouldn’t it have been quicker to simply take control of Scotland? What’s the legacy? It’s not even on the border so they’ll have to build a new wall when Scotland rejoins the EU.
I’m not a big fan of walls, actually. And as for Roman forts, once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. Like McDonalds.
I met Caroline Kennedy who is the chaplain of Cumbria university mid way along the wall. She recognised me at once and I recognised her too. But neither of us could remember how or where we’d met so it was probably a case of mistaken identity. People used to think I was Marty Feldman before I lost my hair and before he died. Many years ago I was shopping in Woolworths with an American friend when a young lady thrust her police ID card in my face and asked me if we could spare a few minutes to join what we quaintly call an identity parade. My friend assumed she was some kind of stripagram and what she was offering was possibly worth our while pursuing. I translated the proposal, “it’s a line-up” and declined for fear of spending the rest of the 20th century in jail together with an enduring entry on the sex offenders register.