Life goes on.

As I write that, I find myself, as you do, imagining I am a Roman centurion from anywhere in the Empire, but let's say for the sake of of it, North Africa who might find himself posted to the far edges of the Empire against his will and is shivering on Hadrian's Wall, demanding olives, blazing sunshine and er, a woollen cloak and thick socks. I mean, it is nearly July now and we were there in good weather despite one day of low cloud and drizzle last Sunday before things improved considerably and heralded the current mini heatwave.

For anyone not used to Northern Britain, moorland and its driving sleet and blasting winds any time between October and May, it can take a bit of getting used to. It is often bleak in June.

I love it! But then, I am an adopted northerner and wouldn't live anywhere else. Hadrian's Wall  is less than a two hour drive from our doorstep...

Here you will find - not the White Rose of Yorkshire but the fried egg and tomato sauce breakfast that is Northumbria's stunning flag:

So, we camped at the stunning friendly and comfortable Hadrian's Wall Camping where, in the snap below, you can spot the flags fluttering at the entrance gates and see our van basking in the sun despite the thin cloud cover:

And, only a hop, skip and a jump away is this...

Can my trusty Roman expert friends recommend a historical novel featuring a homesick, freezing cold soldier, wife or girlfriend or even camp-follower up here? Don't say I have to write it for myself!