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Published: August 6th 2007
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Hardknott Pass
Six dedicated sheep lanes. I have to admit that there was a small lump in my throat as our flight from Paris descended to Manchester airport. All that I could see through the occasional gaps in the clouds were patches of green - bits of English countryside. I (Richard) had not seen this shade of green since leaving England in 1964. An hour later, we were driving northwards on the M6 to the Lakes District and I spent my first night on English soil, after a 43 year absence, in the small town of Bowness on Windemere.
The following morning we strolled down to the shore of Lake Windemere and, although Dee was not feeling well (just a bit of a cold), we soaked up the June sun and relaxed on the lakeside before setting off for the day. We had been advised that the road over Wrynose and Hardknott passes is one of the most scenic drives in England. After losing our way, we sought directions in pub while downing copious volumes of tea. For the first time since my early years in Sydney, I have struggled with my nationality. I feel Australian, but now I am surrounded with the familiar accents and
Ullswater
Direct from the tin lid of Cumberland Pencils. expressions from my childhood - it is very confusing and also quite pleasant!
We eventually found ourselves on a strictly one lane road which rivalled Crete in its steepness but had to cater for two way traffic. At various places there were small bays where you could wait for passing cars. The gradient was claimed to be 1 in 3 in places and the road edges were peppered with grazing sheep, just to make the driving more interesting. The scenery was straight off the lid of a Cumberland Pencils tin and was certainly worth the sacrifice of intense concentration and body salts. After winding our way down to level country and wider roads (only just), we headed to Muncaster Castle which amongst other things claimed to have the World's largest collection of live owl species. The English don't exaggerate, and here in the most unlikely place is indeed the best collection of owls that we have ever seen. Here was an opportunity to see birds that I've only read about at home but I won't bore you with details - suffice it to say that the Great Eagle Owl really is the size of an eagle! Later we walked
around the gardens and soaked in the scenery which included views of Scaffell Pyke, the highest peak in England.
In the last week, Dee has taken every chance to absorb the history and literary wealth of the England, and I have been Wordsworthed, Byroned and Bronteed to the gills. I regret that my interest in history is mainly of the natural variety but I did admire Wordsworth who accepted the position of Poet Laureate under the condition that he would only write for the royals if he felt inspired. As it turned out, he was never so inspired and received 60 guineas a year for doing nothing! Great eh? We spent half an hour looking for Sylvia Plath's grave in the village of Heptonstall in Yorkshire. The church grounds of every English village are also graveyards and huge old churches set amongst headstones on cold, wet and grey afternoons present an imposing aspect. Eventually, I was cheered and relieved when Dee yelled, "Here it is" and also quite surprised at my sudden interest. Equally surprising was my desire to know more about the circumstances surrounding the early end to this tragic life. So, as we trudged our sodden path
Harry Potter all grown up
Dee leaned on my glasses in Botswana and broke them in the first week of the trip. They have been held together by orange fluoro gaffa tape ever since. back to the car, through the village, I was enlightened about the life of Sylvia Plath.
We also ducked into Southern Scotland, visited Hadrian's Wall, and drove across the North Yorkshire Moors. We spent 2 very wet days in York, which even in foul weather, looks beautiful. The old town is surrounded by a wall and is centred around the cathedral known as the Minster. Cobbled paths, medieval houses and modern structures all combine into an absorbing and fascinating town. We visited (finally) a museum that I found interesting - not a poet's house, not a writer's mother's second cousin's family home, not Roman ruins. No! THE NATIONAL RAIL MUSEUM, folks! Now this is a museum, with genuinely interesting objects like railway locomotives and rolling stock and other wonderful mechanical things. Best of all, it was free.
We are now in Warwickshire, the county of my childhood. We are staying in Barford, a small village outside Stratford upon Avon. Yes, that means I've also been Shakespeared, but, I must admit that it was a fairly pleasant experience. If you like old houses which bend over the street and have dips in their floors, then this is the
place to visit. We are using this area as a base as it is very central, with so many destinations in easy reach. One of these, of course is my home town, Rugby, which we visited at the earliest opportunity. Dee directed me from Barford across the dozen or so miles of countryside. I realised that if we headed for Hillmorton, we would come in on the right side of town to see " my " house. As we drove pass Fisher Ave, a flood of memories triggered the correct route to 225 Lower Hillmorton Rd and within 3 minutes we were parked next to the shops about 50 m from the house. It was raining, but I had to get a photo and look at the place close up. I knocked on the door to explain to the current owner why two strangers were showing unusual interest in his house. He told me that he had bought the place from the Headmistress of the local primary school but that was relatively recently. After a brief further chat, I departed and we drove around the streets of my childhood with me prattling on about every detail that I could remember.
Rainhill Rocket
Actually it's a replica at York National Rail Museum. What a great day! We spent the next 2 hours visiting my old school and then walking around the centre of Rugby. When I looked at it with an adult's perspective, I realised that it really is a very beautiful town and I felt quite proud that it was my home. I have often returned to Rugby in my dreams, but the real thing was so much better than any dream. Now, I think that it is out my system and I realise that as well as feeling Australian, I actually am.
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carol mum
non-member comment
the Joy
Oh Richard realy enjoyed reading this and to see the absolute joy on your face here in the pictures. It is nice to see where you were born and grew up before comming here to Australia. I can just hear Dee too reciting poetry to you too you both must have felt you were in seventh heaven here in England. Seeing and feeling all this part of England has to offer. For both of you is a pleasure to be able to share this with with you both Carol and Harry ( Mum and Dad)