In case you don’t know: Hadrian’s Wall used to run through the middle of what is now Carlisle, and specifically, across the top of my street. Meaning that if we were still in Roman times I’d currently be on the side of the Picts (Scottish to you).
[Also in case you don’t know: Hadrian’s Wall was a fortified barrier marking the northern boundary of the Roman Empire, begun in AD122, under the command of the then emperor, Publius Aelius Hadrianus, (or Hadrian to his pals), and currently designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. Wikipedia is your friend folks.]
This evening they had a fairly random festival of lights to mark nothing in particular (except, presumably, an effort to rake in a wee bit more cash from tourists), beginning in Newcastle in the east and finishing in Carlisle in the west, with various beacons in between.
I avoided the crowds (and the inevitable ‘Carlisle-ness’ of the situation), but did watch the fireworks from an upstairs window. Pretty.
In summary: history is old. And has little to do with fireworks.