As we were ushered through the tiny kitchen a young girl stopped stirring the contents of a big pot; I flashed her a smile, then followed the others out through the back door, which the young boy slammed shut behind us. After the warmth of the tiny kitchen, the frigid, damp afternoon air felt unpleasant. Better than being arrested though. We picked our way down the narrow stone steps. Ahead of us were several small plots of land. Green stalks and leaves poking out of the damp earth. Beyond that was a row of houses; in fact, houses surrounded us on all sides. "Should we wait it out until they go?" I asked. A young girl's screech followed by crash suggested we should keep moving.
The Girl, the War and the Witchfinder “Is it too much to ask to be back in the twenty-first century?” A quick wander around the city of Chester and Megan has her answer. It’s better than Roman times though surely? The buildings look more modern at least, and the beer actually tastes like beer. There’s even a variation on take-out food.
There are one or two drawbacks; the roads aren’t much better than those in the twelfth century. There is a violent, religion driven Civil War raging, and indoor plumbing is still a few centuries away.
Then there is Mr. Shadcombe…when Hugh and Megan’s sudden arrival from the second century is witnessed by a young boy, it puts them on the radar of the local witchfinder, and they are
forced to flee to Dublin, where things go from bad to worse. On reflection, perhaps Roman Britain wasn’t that bad after all…