style best described as 'eccentrically organised'. Quite how they ever found anything is difficult to imagine. Apparently many of these sites were excavated by rich amateurs (though there weren't any professionals in those days), of varying degrees of talent and commitment to preservation. Some simply wanted to improve their vistas! Still, a surprising amount has survived the centuries, the looters, and the whims of Victorian archaeology enthusiasts. There is enough to be seen of the fort to get an idea of what it might have looked like. To get an even better impression, there are parts of the wall and forts reconstructed at Vindolanda, which I'll talk about in a moment, and at South Shields, which I didn't get to see, unfortunately.

After a picnic lunch, we went back into the fray, thoroughly surveying the site, whilst getting thoroughly drenched and then blow-dried. I'm not entirely sure that they ever have a summer in Northumbria.

During the afternoon we drove along the wall, stopping every so often to look at visible stretches of wall, milecastles, turrets, and so on. Apparently the Romans intended originally to have only a succession of forts along a military way ( not to be confused with the military road of civil war times ). They later amended this to a wall, and later still changed the thickness because it was too costly. Then they wanted castles every mile, and then turrets every third of a mile. Obviously they also had district planning authorities.

Arriving at Vindolanda late in the afternoon, we stopped for a snack in the car first, during which time Michael regaled me with tales of his involvement with the digs in the area. This rapidly turned into a rambling reminiscence involving so many people I'd never heard of that I soon lost track and got bored. Sitting there with a cracked smile on my face, unable to get a word in edgeways, even if I could think of something relevant to say, I simply had to concentrate on stopping my buttock cheeks from going to sleep on me by subtlely shifting from one to the other.

Barely regaining the use of my legs after this, we wandered down to Vindolanda to have a look. The museum there is very interesting, containing the remains of a number of letters written by soldiers and others about all manner of things. They were preserved in the ground by pure chance. Unfortunately, the rest of the place is let down by a number of rather tacky reconstructions dotted around, including a temple, which comes alive with booming music when you go inside. The site itself contains a piece of reconstructed fort, as I mentioned earlier. Though it isn't entirely accurate - lacking the white outer veneer which we now know they had. Having an expert guide also paid off, as he was able to point out the wrongly labelled buildings. He didn't think much of the man who excavated the place. One of those people he was telling me about I think, but I can't for the life of me remember which one!

When we finally made it back, it was gone 7 - Michael has a habit of getting back late apparently. After a delicious dinner, during which we watched Mrs. Ellsworth's cats bring in a succession of mice, and then eat them whole, we talked over coffee, then I retired to bed.

Michael stayed the night at Fourstones, so we were able to get away quite quickly in the morning. We headed for Housesteads first. Having arrived, we faced a long climb to reach the site on top of a high hill. I remembered the climb from my visit with my father four years previously. By this time I was beginning to suffer from 'fort fatigue'. Roman forts do look so alike. This one did have Roman toilets, I'll grant you, which certainly attracted a lot of tourists. Michael's attitude to tourists was fairly obvious by this time as well. Something of a traditionalist, obviously, he thought nothing of scolding children climbing on the stones. Personally, I think children have the right idea. There is something wonderfully naughty about climbing over ancient relics - probably because they're normally kept at a sterile distance.