Gunga- Southern talk in Northwest England

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Travel date April 30th. Writing date May 18 th

Today was a 'transfer day' which translates to mean a lot of hours on a bus. Even though I had experienced several gloomy/ rainy/ cool to downright cold days, today was gloriously sunny. We were headed back to England. The bus followed the northern coast of Wales so glimpses of the Irish Sea were hinted at from time to time. Lunch stop was in the medieval city of Chester, England.

Chester, although a large city of over 328,000, has a very sweet and walkable city center designed to encourage tourism. Entering the city on one of the 4 main roads that date back to Roman times ( about 79 A.D.) I was delighted to see that it was a walled city. It retains the reputation of being one of the best preserved and longest walls ( almost two miles ) in all of Britain which gives them some bragging rights. We all know that Rome fell about 300 years later. Without going into all the history ( you can google it or go to Wikipedia if you really want to learn more) there were a few famous names connected to Chester: King Arthur, St. Augustine, King Aetherled, Danish marauders, the Saxons, and King Edgar in 973 to name just a few.

In 1066, Chester was one of the last towns to fall under the Norman Conquest. William the Conquerer ordered construction of a castle. In addition, the town has some of the bests preserved black and white timbered houses and a unique type of building called " The Rows". These consist of buildings with shops and dwellings on the lowest two floors some lower than the street level. They are entered by steps lower than the street. Shops on the 1st floor are entered by a long continuous walkway. Some famous folks from Chester: Randolph Caldecott(1846-1886) an artist and book illustrator; Beatrice Hall Tinsley (1941-1981) astronomer and cosmologist ( I added her for my granddaughter,Stella, who wants to be an astronomer- you go girl!); and Daniel Craig.

Our tireless guide, Wendy, walked us around a bit of the old town and invited those interested to join her for a tour of the cathedral or, we were told, we could just walk around on our own, have some lunch, and be back at the bus at the designated time. As we dispersed I noticed a small church with a hand written sign tied to a wrought iron railing in front of it saying 'CAFE'. I watched my group scatter in all directions. I decided that that would be my lunch stop. I was alone and enjoying the possibility of making my own discoveries.

Inside the church had been divided into a church/ lunch room by the placement of a thin bolt of cloth. There were 6 or 7 tables scattered around the space seating from 2 to 4 customers each. Off in a corner was a tiny kitchen where 3 ladies of a certain age were flushed red with rushing around filling orders for tea, coffee, hot chocolate and warmed up baked goods. Against the wall was a cooler filled with unappetizing plastic encased sandwiches and cans of soda. I grabbed a sandwich, a diet coke, ordered a tea and a nice looking scone. A great traveler once said something to the effect that it's not the destination but the getting there. I adopted that philosophy - it wasn't the food but the experience of being in the church with Chesterites (I just made that up - feel free to correct me).

I sat at the only empty table left and enjoyed my dried sandwich and luke warm coke. I was reading something when a very distinguished well dressed elderly gentleman ( he actually could have been a few years older than me) came to the table and asked politely if he could sit there. I had learned many years ago that it is the custom in Europe to share tables if an empty one is not available. I nodded that it was okay.

We went about eating our lunches until he said, "Excuse me, but are you from the states?" I replied that I was. He then said " May I be so bold as to ask where you are from?"

Now this is always a bit of a problem for me as I was born in Boston and lived in Massachusetts for 64 years but have lived in Memphis, Tennessee for the last 7 years. Still, I don't think of Memphis as being where I'm from. I think of it as where I live. I explained this to him as briefly as I could.

He put his hand to his chest and sighed " Ahh,the South". I nodded. He then explained that he had been in the military and had done some study of the Civil War. I nodded again. He went on " Fascinating history." I told him that some parts of the South don't call it the Civil War. He looked very surprised and asked what they called it. I told him "the war of Northern Agression". I am not making that up. He was stunned by this information as I was when I first heard that term.

He repeated that new information several times. Then he leaned over his sandwich and asked me if I could talk " southern" for him. Um, I reminded him, I wasn't really 'southern'. He looked so disappointed that I said I'd try a few words (my friends in Memphis must be rolling on the floor laughing). I gave him my best "y'all". He did a little gasp and asked if I could say it again. This time he closed his eyes and repeated it several times trying to imitate my bad 'southern drawl'. I was having fun with him now. I asked him if he knew the plural of 'y'all'. "Why no, is there a plural?" Oh, yes, I assured him there was it's " all y'all". I swear he quivered at that and I had to repeat it for him several times. Who knew I had such power over elderly British men?

But the fun wasn't over. He proceeded to tell me that he had worked for Sotheby's after the war and he had met a lot of blues and jazz musicians. His dream was to visit New Orleans. I told him if he was going to visit he has to learn to say it correctly. He looked puzzled. Thanks to my travel companion of many years, Val, who lives in NOLA, I can somewhat approximate the correct pronunciation. I channeled my inner Blanche DuBois and breathe out 'nawlins'. "Oh, please, say it again", he whispered. He closed his eyes as I exhaled another 'nawlins' on him.

He opened his eyes and asked if he could beg me for one more favor. Oh, lord, where is this going? He handed me his business card and asked if I could send him a postcard from the states. He said he'd never gotten mail from the states and it would please him to no end to get a card. I agreed as that seemed like a pretty simple request.

I think it would be great if lots of you who read this sent him a card. I think an airmail card costs about $1.10 - not really sure given the way the rates are changing. You can mention me and say something like you are adding to his mail for the 'states'. His address is:

Gerald Tilston

No.1 Wigfield Terrace

Chester Road

Malpas

Cheshire SY 14 8 PZ

England



Thanks, y'all

Carolyn/ Gunga

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Comments

[valentine]

Gerald!
Carolyn, thanks for the delightful slice of Wales. Gerald is now in my contacts, and I'm sending him a postcard for sure!

[Gunga]

Thanks
Please be sure to add 'England' to the address

[D MJ Binkley]

Wish we were traveling with you
What a great trip you are having even if the weather hasn't been all you'd hoped for....it is the UK and weather is constantly changing. I loved loved loved your time in the church cafe as you escaped from the pack. Your delightful new friends sounds positively wonderful. We will send him a post card today!

[Stephanie and Andras]

Happy to send a card over yonder
We must be real southern then, as I have said "all y'all" most sincerely, though in these parts we tend toward "you all" :) We'll have to send Gerald a line from Kentucky, and infuse it with as a much southern affectation as possible. PS: My grad school roommate was from West Virginia, and her older relatives still referenced the War of Northern Aggression. Seemed strange, given that WV was the only state to emerge out of the Civil War as a break away from the south.

[bvchef]

What a delightful blog
D and MJ passed your blog info on to me after they had visited you. I simply had to comment on this blog. It was so fun, well written, full of humor that I felt as if you were sitting there telling me the story in person. Thanks for taking the time to write it, and teach me the plural of y'all. I will try to incorporate that into my California vocabulary. Plus, I will have a postcard en route to England as quickly as I can.

[Delaine]

How's ya'll doing?
I love this story. What a delightful day that must have been. I'll be send the gentlemen a post card from FL.