What the Romans did for Cumbria
Apr. 13th, 2024 05:00 pmWe started the day with the promised visit to the Roman baths. They stand on the edge of a field, a little way out of Ravenglass along a private road through woodland:
And stand they do, the masonry is massive and - says![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
durham_rambler - 4 metres tall. They are also full of water, so we didn't poke around, we just admired from the perimeter. There is a cluster of notice boards, one of which told us that this was the beginning of Hadrian's Cycleway: I am not convinced that the emperor was a cyclist, but pleased to have included this Hadrianic point of origin in our trip.
A half hour's drive brought us to Senhouse Roman Museum at Maryport: There isn't a road that follows the coast, but it was so misty that we wouldn't have seen anything even if there were. But the museum itself is worth seeing: not just the collection, though that's impressive, too, but the building, a Victorian Royal Naval Artillery Volunteer Drill Hall and a listed building in its own right. It houses mostly Roman stone carvings, including an extraordinary collection of altars:
It seems that one of the obligations of the commander of the fort was to dedicate a new altar every year; these are only the ones between CE 122 and 138. I'm accustomed to seeing Roman altars where you can just about - sort of - by referring to the transcript - decipher the text, but these were so clear, both in the carving and the preservation, that it was easy to read what they said.
We were less successful at exploring Maryport itself. It looks like an attractive eighteenth century town with some quirky details, and on a fine day it would be a pleasure to park up the hill and wander down to the harbour. Instead of which we rushed into the town centre in search of a late lunch, parked in a one-hour zone, dived into the nearest pub (the Lifeboat, I think, and they do a good ham and lentil soup) and only afterwards realised we could have carried on to the harbour, bought as much parking as we were prepared to pay for, picked up a map at the visitor centre and eaten in a café overlooking the harbour. Another time we'll know better.
And stand they do, the masonry is massive and - says
durham_rambler - 4 metres tall. They are also full of water, so we didn't poke around, we just admired from the perimeter. There is a cluster of notice boards, one of which told us that this was the beginning of Hadrian's Cycleway: I am not convinced that the emperor was a cyclist, but pleased to have included this Hadrianic point of origin in our trip.A half hour's drive brought us to Senhouse Roman Museum at Maryport: There isn't a road that follows the coast, but it was so misty that we wouldn't have seen anything even if there were. But the museum itself is worth seeing: not just the collection, though that's impressive, too, but the building, a Victorian Royal Naval Artillery Volunteer Drill Hall and a listed building in its own right. It houses mostly Roman stone carvings, including an extraordinary collection of altars:
It seems that one of the obligations of the commander of the fort was to dedicate a new altar every year; these are only the ones between CE 122 and 138. I'm accustomed to seeing Roman altars where you can just about - sort of - by referring to the transcript - decipher the text, but these were so clear, both in the carving and the preservation, that it was easy to read what they said.
We were less successful at exploring Maryport itself. It looks like an attractive eighteenth century town with some quirky details, and on a fine day it would be a pleasure to park up the hill and wander down to the harbour. Instead of which we rushed into the town centre in search of a late lunch, parked in a one-hour zone, dived into the nearest pub (the Lifeboat, I think, and they do a good ham and lentil soup) and only afterwards realised we could have carried on to the harbour, bought as much parking as we were prepared to pay for, picked up a map at the visitor centre and eaten in a café overlooking the harbour. Another time we'll know better.
