Carlisle: Tourist in my "home town"

Walking into town, I can here a drum beat. In front of me a crowd has formed. A man taps his feet to the rhythm, children dance and a woman with small blue hand prints over her eyes sets down a pink blanket and pulls out more face paints.

I continue through the busy town centre and see the Guildhall Museum. After two years of living here, this is the first time I have noticed it, tucked away next to an Italian restaurant. Inside I explore the small rooms, learning about the city’s history. The floor creaks under my feet as I move around the space that housed merchants, butchers and shoemakers.

Back outside people are enjoying the rare autumn sunshine, sipping coffee and reading the paper.

I follow the signs to the cathedral and the city becomes almost far away as birds sing, interrupting the peaceful silence of the cathedral grounds yellow and orange with leaves littering the floor. Again I see people enjoying the sunshine, giving the city a small town feel.

Across the cobbled street and under the subway leads me to the castle, a landmark I have walked past a hundred times and never wanted to see. But today I am a tourist and need to explore.


I pay my fee and climb the stone steps to a room where music familiar to a medieval banquet plays. The floor creaks as I wander around the castle, a sound familiar in many of the city’s tourist attractions.

I follow the steps down stairs to the dungeon, but after about five seconds my fear of the dark gets the better of me and I have to leave, walking quickly out into the open air, glad that things have moved on from the days of being held captive and that being considered normal behaviour.

After some time spent exploring the castle, learning about it as a fortress back in the day and the fact that Richard the third had once stayed there (alright for some) I return to the city.

Down one of the many lanes I find Ruby Blue Vintage. Inside it’s like stepping back in time. Music from days gone by plays and I’m surrounded by clothes and accessories I would have once found in my mum’s or even my Nan’s wardrobe. Vintage brooches sit alongside beautiful chunky cameras that don’t come with a screen on the back. Magic.

I leave, stepping outside, back into Treasury Court spying a milkshake bar. It’s funny how I’ve never noticed this before, and tempted as I am to try one of their hundreds of flavours, sadly I have no change. Maybe next time I think as I carry on back in to the crazy buzzing city, it’s quite a shock really after so much peace and quiet.

Now that I’m back in the modern world, I trek down to Shelter, probably my favourite charity shop and spot one of those beautiful old fashioned cameras. I can’t resist having a look, but the assistant doesn’t seem to be familiar with customers asking questions and her face looks blank as I ask her how it works.

Out of nowhere, a man appears and talks me step by step through how to use this almost antique piece of equipment. I can see why people are so keen on the new lightweight cameras that are so popular now as the camera in my hand is almost brick like and I wonder how I will ever hold it still enough to take a picture. But I’m sold, I have to have it. And all of a sudden, my camera guide has disappeared again.

My day as a tourist is over and I snap back into a resident leaving my sight seeing head behind me. Carlisle may not have a great reputation but the quirky mix of history, culture and modern day life actually make for quite a good day out.