UK: Essex – Colchester Castle

A Visit to Colchester: Britain’s Oldest Recorded Town

Britain isn’t short of historic towns, but Colchester holds a rather special distinction: it’s considered the country’s oldest recorded town. It wears that title with a sort of quiet pride—no flashy billboards announcing its pedigree, just layer upon layer of history waiting to be unearthed, quite literally. Formerly known as Camulodunum during Roman times, Colchester was once the first Roman capital of Britain, which makes it rather a good place to start if one is in the mood for a bit of historical meandering.

We arrived on a weekday morning, not too early by our standards, but early enough that the high street had yet to wake up properly. A few delivery vans were making their rounds and there were smatterings of people about—dog walkers, retirees on their first coffee of the day, and the odd shop assistant wrestling with stubborn shutters. The quietness was welcome; it gave us the chance to absorb the place without dodging too many prams or bumping into clusters of tourists trying to locate the nearest public loo.

Wandering Through the Town Centre

The town centre is typical of many English towns—part charming, part chain-store beige—but there are pockets where the past makes its presence felt. As we strolled towards Colchester Castle, we passed half-timbered buildings, medieval churches, and a few pubs with names that hadn’t changed since Cromwell was knocking about.

There’s something soothing about an early morning wander before the noise kicks in. The pavements still cool, the shop windows freshly polished. We took our time heading up through Castle Park, which is where the real heart of Colchester’s story beats.

Colchester Castle: A Fortress With Foundations in Empire

Now, Colchester Castle is a proper bit of architecture. Not some romantic ruin or fussy stately home, but a stout Norman fortress, all thick stone walls and unapologetic presence. It was built by the Normans on the foundations of the Temple of Claudius, which the Romans erected and Boudica’s army, in one of their more dramatic episodes, duly burnt to the ground in AD 60. One has to admire the layers of civilisation here: Roman ambition, followed by Norman assertion, and all of it still standing (more or less) centuries later.

We weren’t the only ones drawn to the castle that day. A clutch of schoolchildren were being shepherded around the grounds by teachers who, judging by their expressions, would much rather have been anywhere else. End-of-term outings can be noisy affairs, and this was no exception. But to be fair, the children were more interested in exploring than shrieking, and the castle grounds are spacious enough that one can usually find a quiet bench if the din becomes too much.

The gardens, in particular, were a pleasant surprise. Immaculately maintained, with flower beds in full summer bloom. A riot of colour, without being overdone. We took a seat for a short while and watched a very determined squirrel attempt to outwit a pigeon for a bit of dropped sandwich crust. This, arguably, is the kind of peaceful battle one prefers to witness after a castle tour.