Bringing Up Baby In The Shadow Of Dragons

Today we decided to venture back to Bodiam Castle in East Sussex, somewhere we haven't been for many a year. The journey there was very much going 'around the houses' as we seemed to take in what felt like half of Kent's villages - to name just a few Biddenden, Benenden, Sandhurst and Newenden - even before we reached the nearest East Sussex minor rural mitropilii of Northiam and then Bodiam itself. 
In fact at one point we even managed to lose the castle altogether, the immortal phrase "there must be a caste around here somewhere" was uttered by yours truly even through Google maps indicated that we had just driven straight past it! We did a u-turn at Bodiam's heritage railway station and suddenly there it was on the opposite side of the road - our excuse was that the entrance sign was facing the other way when we initially drove past it and that it does sit in a dip in the landscape which is partially obscured by nearby tree cover.
Bodiam Castle was built in 1385 by Sir Edward Dallingridge and his wife Elizabeth. Sir Edward was a soldier at the time of King Richard II, fought in France and served in the King's court. Elizabeth's family owned land in Bodiam village and when they married they decided to build the castle together. The castle was constructed of sandstone and was originally rendered in white plaster so it would have been very visible in the local environment as a sign of both wealth and prestige. The castle was once situated within a working estate which included farmland, a wharf and a watermill with the site also landscaped to create a 'waterscape' of pools, ponds and a moat which can still be seen today (see my second extra).
The most turbulent part of its history occurred in the 1640's during the English Civil War when its owner at the time, a Royalist on the losing side in the war, was forced to sell it due to massive fines imposed by his Parliamentarian vanquishers and it was subsequently partially demolished, with the interior left to fall into disrepair, to prevent it being used in any future conflicts. 
By the 18th and 19th centuries the castle had become romantic ruins for well to do visitors before later owners helped to prevent any further demolition and restore some aspects to their former glory before it was bequeathed to the National Trust in 1929.
We took the long sweeping footpath up to this glorious edifice as it appeared majestically on the horizon and then after a stroll around the moat we entered the castle itself via the remains of a fortified outbuilding called The Barbican followed by crossing a wooden bridge and then through the gatehouse and into the interior courtyard where it feels more like you have happened upon a film set rather than something real! This was enhanced by the fact that on our visit the castle was sporting a dragon theme (just part of which can be seen in my first extra warning you of the danger of dragon eggs) based on the bestselling series of childrens' novels (and two films) How To Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell, where you were invited to "let imagination run wild and channel your inner Viking".
My main image taken in the courtyard really appealed to me because it seemed mother and child were more intent on playing than paying any attention to the looming presence of the dragon above them! The enigmatic looking onlooker in the dark shades adds a further element.
After exploring the castle's interior further - with its echoes of what were once a great hall, servants quarters, a kitchen, apartments and a kitchen - we then climbed the steep steps (all 56 of them!) to the top of one of the towers which had sublime sweeping view of the East Sussex countryside.
As were leaving it started to pour down just as a steady stream of very excitable schoolchildren where on the way in with one of the already slightly frazzled looking accompanying teachers uttering to us "you might have just picked the right time to leave guys"!
We managed to shelter under a large tree with a plethora of snack seeking ducks before the precipitation abated and the sun resurfaced almost exactly at the same time we got in the car to head home.
We did still manage at pit stop at the Black Horse in Pluckley for our very first ever £7.00 pints (we thought we'd misheard at first!). We had a fantastic time albeit with a pretty expensive refreshment based ending!