Castle antics - part two

We decide to risk following the “strictly private Tixall Mews” signpost that we have driven past only five minutes previously.  Our risk pays off and moments later we are on the driveway leading to the “castle”.  “Is this where we’re staying?” asks The Seven Year Old excitedly.  “It is indeed” chorus me and The Husband with huge grins on our faces.  We pull in through the gate and park in the archway as we’ve been instructed to.  The Gatehouse has, in effect, become a glorified car port. 

We locate the door key from the coded key box whilst congratulating ourselves on remembering – somewhat miraculously for us - to bring a torch.  The Husband, with The Seven Year Old hot on his heels, tries to unlock several doors without success. Just in the nick of time, before The Baby screams for milk, we find the only remaining door whose lock hasn’t yet been tried with the key.  And we’re in!  Up the stone spiral staircase and we burst into the first floor of our weekend retreat.  Oh my. 

It is better than we had imagined. “I want to live here” exclaims The Seven Year Old and I have to agree with him.  The Husband patiently unloads the car whilst me and The Seven Year Old compete for the title of “giddiest giddy person in the castle”.  I call one of the two friends who will be joining us the following day to provide a running room by room commentary as we run around exploring. 

The Husband, The Seven Year Old The Baby and me then climb higher beyond the upper floor - which somewhat randomly houses little more than a table tennis table and single bedrooms in two of the four turrets.- and we’re out onto the roof.  Wow.  It turns out that turning 40 is feeling really rather good.

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