england
ENGLAND 29th August 2006: AT THE AIRPORT
This could well be the worst day of my life. Well, no, it could be much worse… if I was deserted in the amazon and force-fed to piranhas… but this comes close. I’m cold – its 12 degrees outside. I’m hungry – but everything is so expensive here. I’m tired – I caught a red eye flight and can’t doze incase my luggage is stolen. I’m stuck at Heathrow airport for ten whole hours waiting for my family to meet me after three months of not seeing them. It should be a good day. Except I got here, and my suitcase didn’t. JFK airport say it went on the plane, and Heathrow say its nowhere to be seen. I think mum jinxed me, saying that the other week 10,000 bags were lost at the airport. I can’t believe my luck. So now I am sitting on an uncomfortable, crowded arrivals lounge and I have a headache.
I met up with an Australian guy, who kept me sane for the day – in knowing that his situation was probably worse: he was returning to Australia after being in England for a year, having married an English backpacker and having an eight month old son. They divorced after only one month, and he was left with nothing. So he left his life in England with a tiny suitcase: “I came here with nothing, and I leave with nothing.”
He turned up at the airport yesterday, but his flight wasn’t actually until 8pm tonight. And with the time difference, he isn’t due to arrive in Australia until Thursday. So he must have broken a record for being at an airport for four days without any sleep.
I have never felt so much anticipation. As we watched the clock tick around, I was on the edge of my seat. I waited at the arrivals corridor where everyone walks out, like in the movies, for a few hours – every person that walked through that door could have been my family. I finally saw them, and burst into tears because of me losing my luggage – not the stress you need. It was weird suddenly going back to family life, like nothing has changed – dad was still grumpy and james was still carrying his soccer ball, and mum was still mum.
Mum panicked because no-one from the car rentals was answering, meaning we couldn’t get to our hotel. Plus she was probably also worried about me losing my luggage – which I finally worked out hadn’t even been put on my flight. They told me they would send it to my hotel.
We rushed into a taxi, who dropped us off at Alamo car rentals, and he’d zoomed off before we’d had a chance to blink and see if we had all our stuff together. Of course, we didn’t, and we’d left the most expensive thing we could on the taxi: our brand new (only two photos taken using it) SLR digital camera, with the other video recorders accessories as well – all of $1600 camera and more, gone in the taxi down the road. I had a thought of dropping my bags and running after it, but they drive so fast in this country that he had practically disappeared. Great. Just what we needed. Then we turn around and watch the free shuttle from the airport drive past. I couldn’t help but think ‘what if…’
Things happen like that: one thing leads to another. If I hadn’t lost my bags, we would have had more time and caught the free shuttle, meaning we would have had time to get everything out of the van – and we would have saved $25 for the taxi, and not lost a camera. Fantastic. But there was more to come later.
FELTHAM TRAVELODGE, LONDON, 1 night:
We found our hotel eventually, and had dinner etc… I was surprised how a simple hotel room looks so posh compared to how I was living at camp – oh my god – a shower within 5 metres, and electricity. And a black box they call ‘tv.’
We had an English breakfast the next morning and then headed to kent for my capita teachers assistant job interview. The rep in Australia told me that my experience in camp would set me up for teaching assistance, even though I have no formal qualifications, but the lady here pretty much told me that I won’t have a chance at all to get a job, at least in kent, but maybe in London. I felt like a right idiot.
LIME TREE INN, LAMBERHURST, 2 nights:
The county of kent is amazing. The streets have cobblestones and old stone houses, and wooden houses that are hand painted black and white, almost looking like german, or dutch houses. Even the bins and the street lamps are elegant. Everything just posseses this upper class feel. Its probably different in most parts of London. But the country towns are preserved like they would have been a hundred years ago.
We then headed off to lamberhurst. It’s a quaint little town with midget doors, flowers hanging in pots, and the village green. Every house has a name, like “rose cottage.” Its all so cute, I kept saying. So different from America and then from Australia.
We stayed in a place called the “lime tree inn.” Luckily my luggage turned up, although the telescopic handle was snapped in half and the top handle was missing completely. So for the rest of the day we looked through bloody insurance papers!!!
We went for a quick walk around the town and down to the Clydesdale horses, and then had a quality meal at a restaurant – its amazing how well people can eat here, compared to America. Although I am finding that I have no energy because I am used to living off sugary foods.
The next day we went to tonbridge castle, the first of many I think. And had a look in another town, having lunch in the lush green grass by a stream with swans and river boats. Mums’ childhood memories are coming streaming back, educating us on the berries you can eat and the different plants and animals. That afternoon we walked up to scotney castle, and stumbled on a wheat field and I got stung by stinging nettle.
TRAVELODGE: MANSFIELD, 1 night:
On Friday we did a lot of driving all the way up to another travelodge in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. We drove halfway up the country in about 7 hours!!! We went past lots of football stadiums, quaint towns with very very narrow roads, and got lost many times. Also went past Coventry, where fox from camp lives!!!
Dad snored like a lawnmower that night, so I didn’t get much sleep ☹ We visited Sherwood forest, the home of robin hood. We saw the major oak, where he would meet up with his merry men, which is between 800-1000 years old, and is dying.
In the clearing near the oak, we stumbled across a medieval campsite – all these people from medieval societies right across England being paid to live and demonstrate the medieval times. They had the dress, cooking, scribes, ropemakers, basket makers and blacksmiths. It was really interesting and they really reincarnated the times.
Unfortunately the weather wasn’t very good – typical English rainy weather!!
SINNINGTON FARM, NORTH YORKSHIRE, 3 nights:
We drove and drove and drove up to Yorkshire, where we had a quick look around at a castle on the top of a man made hill in the city of York, and the carousel. Then we continued to drive up to the north, and found our farm house. ABSOLUTE luxury – two bedrooms, dishwasher etc… I feel like i am living like a king. The place looks out on the fields, with round hay bails dotting the fields, lush green fields with black and white sheep, old stone walls, and wind – I feel like I am already in Scotland!! I had the best sleep that night!!
The next morning we took advantage of the dry but overcast weather and walked around the farm – they have billy goats, sheep, pigs, horses and cows. We walked around the paddocks and up a hill that have us a panoramic view. Its funny how the population of England is like four times bigger than Australia, and the country is tiny, but there is still so much open space, and the towns are tiny, as well as the incredibly narrow streets. You spend most of the time using the middle line in the centre of the car so you don’t hit the cars on either side. We went into Pickering, then spent the afternoon sitting on the hay bails (james got ontop but I couldn’t) and drawing the countryside. Then we made up a hide and seek game behind the bales – pretending we were from a hundred years ago.
The following day, we drove into Delby forest and did a walk. Then we headed off to the famous yorskshire moors, where I could so see them filming king lear in his madness o’th’heath. The heath is this pretty purple flowering bush that covers the countryside as far as the eyes can see, and in season it would be spectacular. We headed off to Aidensfield (properly called Goathland), where Heartbeat is filmed. Saw the old police car used in the films, the garage turn funeral service, and I ordered from the bar “aidensfield arms.’ I can’t believe the sheep here: they don’t have to walk as far as ours do to get grass. Dad said they could live off the metre patch around them for three months. So the rest of the time they just lie down, often in the middle of the road!!!
Also in Goathland, at the quaint old railway station, is where the station at hogwarts in harry potter is flimed. We saw the actual steam train come in and james and I touched the train and got a photo in front of it. We then topped off the day with a visit to Helmsley, this beautiful old town with a creepy old church with toppling over gravestones and crows everywhere – the bells of the church also kept mysertiously rining every five minutes like the phantom of the opera had moved house or something.
James and I wanted to visit helmsley castle but it was closed. So we jumped the castle wall and an old lady, who I think was the owner of the gift shop, was scouting the edges. So I dropped to the ground, pulling my bag down, and examined the dirt for a few minutes, wedged between a cobweb filled stone wall and an ancient mossy tree. I listened to her footsteps, getting closer and seeming to stop right by where I was for a moment, before proceeding on. James and I then met up and we climbed the banks up to the remains of the castle. It was sooo cool – and I filmed our whole adventure, like something out of jeopardy, because we were scared that CCTV would catch us. At one point we ducked and ran along an inside wall, and found a dead end, so we jumped off a ledge just as the pigeons took flight into the sky, from their perch in the castle walls ten metres above. We followed steps up the turrets, but t hey disappeared and we had to head back down again. It was very silly really.
We packed up and left sinnington farms, and headed further north to Scarborough, then a quaint town by the seaside call ‘whitby.’ I found out later that it is where both captain cook and count Dracula originated. Its filled with colourful boats, beautiful stone houses and cobblestone streets, and alleyways which could well be Diagon Alley off Harry Potter. We climbed up to the abbey and st marys cathedral, up the 200 or so steps, which gave us a fantastic view of the town and the harbour. It was odd seeing all the old people (the whole north of England is infested with them, so I can see where eliza gets her personality from (sorry!)) They were sitting there with their knee rugs, hot thermoses and lunchboxes with sandwiches on a bench in the middle of a graveyard.
We went to captain cooks house where he was an apprentice for a few years before he voyaged out. It was really interesting seeing all the old letters, paintings, his kitchen, and learning about his death – I never knew he was killed by natives when he ‘discovered’ Hawaii – but then im not such a history nut.
We had oily fish and chips and a look through the quirky shops and chocolatiers, then drove further and further north, through Newcastle, up to a town called ‘acomb’ near hexham. The countryside up north is even greener.
ACOMB, NORTHUMBERLAND, 5 nights:
Story goes: we recently found a long lost cousin, whose life story could be the base for a novel. His father, harry black, left to complete a twelve month contract in Ghana in the mines the day after Iain was born. His mother, alice patricia or pat as she was fondly called, died three weeks later of septicemia, at the same time that pats sister Margaret found out she couldn’t have children. So Margaret adopted her, and harry became the ‘uncle,’ who had suffered the loss of a wife and a child, and had to live with this dreadful secret. Everybody in the family, including the younger children, were sworn to secrecy on pain of death, and the secret remained buried until iain reached teenagehood. Also, pats best friend acted as a secret link, visiting iain in his adopted home, periodically to check up on him, carrying out a promise that pat had made her keep on her death bed. Also, a doctor called dr black, got really angry at the local hospital for their appauling conditions, and had actually had pat transferred to queen charlottes hospital for the remaining few days of her life. Mum somehow got in contact with an ancestry nut of the family, jimmy scutt, who lives in Holland, and they managed to track down iain. Mum and iain share the same grandfather, and he is my second cousin once removed.
So off we went through the English countryside to visit a relative we had never met, not knowing what to expect. We found the house and a man who I think is the spitting image of a slightly younger david attenbrough, greeted us on the neat driveway. And we were welcomed into their immaculate home for five nights. We met his wife Madeline, and his son and his wife. Imagine suddenly discovering the other half of your family after 65 years of mystery!!
Some funny highlights of our conversations at dinner:
They have this gorgeous dog, Hamish, who rules the roost but is missing a bit…up there. He tripped over a rabbit - one with miximitosis.
Iain said “if you lift one of hamish's ears, you can see daylight through the other.”
He’s really funny, like he always wears pink trousers and a yellow button up shirt. and he delights in sharing his trick where he swings his pocket watch by the chain, landing in his top pocket. he was discouraged from this when he was demonstrating at a cocktail party and revealed a well-tattered top pocket from the years of demonstrating.
Then he started talking about a golf competition playing for a chamber pot. And somewhrere in there he said “wee jordie wasn't a particularly interesting fellow.”
Picking up some Scottish lingo:
"baleed" - bald headed
"jordie" = joe bloggs
daan saaf (down south)- london cockney accent impression
The next day we visited Beamish, an open air museum which recreated the town in the year 1913. It was extremely interesting. We got around by an old tram which exactly resembled the one from the third harry potter. We saw the town – the old shops, including the food wholesalers, the dress store, the automobile, the scary dentist etc… it was weird seeing the ‘old crusties’ as james calls them, creaking around saying “I remember those soaps.” But you learn a lot by directly ‘living’ in history. We also got to see the mining town, and got to go down a coal mine. It was very claustrophobic and I was scared about the wood posts cracking. we also saw the old chapel and the old school house. How much education has changed in a century or so is unbelievable.
The next few days are a blur so I will just be brief:
We went to Durham (elizas beloved town) to the cathedral. James and I climbed the stairs up to the top of the cathedral, giving us a full view of the town, wit hthe river, and rows of stone houses all in rows. That’s when we made up “the adventrues of anne” from little Britain (videoing james acting as anne as she sightsees around England.) We also had an exclusive tour of Durham university, because iain has done lectures there. It was so similar to hogwarts.
we also went to hexham, and saw the old abbey, and went into the crypt. The abbey dates back to 700AD or so, and there were ancient roman monuments and staircases which the knights climbed, and old roman coffins etc… its funny how australia’s history is just a blink compared to the European part of the world.
Yesterday we went to hadrians’ wall – which was a mysterious wall built in 21AD that runs across the entire country from east to west, in Northumberland county and beyond. We walked alongside it, and james and I got photos by (and kissed the tree) the famous tree and well from Robin Hood Prince of Thieves (the tree between two hills.)
(you are not supposed to walk along the wall, but I couldn’t resist moonwalking along it for a little section.)
Then we headed back for lunch and then caught the train ( a two carriage bus looking thing) to Newcastle to see Newcastle united vs Fulham at St James stadium (soccer / football.) they lost 2-1, which was a real let down, but the atmosphere was amazing – the chants, the masses of home crowd wearing the stripy black and white shirts etc…) the stadium holds 70,000 and it was almost full house. The small section of away supporters were blocked off by police officers for their safety!!!!
I couldn’t believe it when the Newcastle supporters got up and left before the game ended because they were losing!!!
This could well be the worst day of my life. Well, no, it could be much worse… if I was deserted in the amazon and force-fed to piranhas… but this comes close. I’m cold – its 12 degrees outside. I’m hungry – but everything is so expensive here. I’m tired – I caught a red eye flight and can’t doze incase my luggage is stolen. I’m stuck at Heathrow airport for ten whole hours waiting for my family to meet me after three months of not seeing them. It should be a good day. Except I got here, and my suitcase didn’t. JFK airport say it went on the plane, and Heathrow say its nowhere to be seen. I think mum jinxed me, saying that the other week 10,000 bags were lost at the airport. I can’t believe my luck. So now I am sitting on an uncomfortable, crowded arrivals lounge and I have a headache.
I met up with an Australian guy, who kept me sane for the day – in knowing that his situation was probably worse: he was returning to Australia after being in England for a year, having married an English backpacker and having an eight month old son. They divorced after only one month, and he was left with nothing. So he left his life in England with a tiny suitcase: “I came here with nothing, and I leave with nothing.”
He turned up at the airport yesterday, but his flight wasn’t actually until 8pm tonight. And with the time difference, he isn’t due to arrive in Australia until Thursday. So he must have broken a record for being at an airport for four days without any sleep.
I have never felt so much anticipation. As we watched the clock tick around, I was on the edge of my seat. I waited at the arrivals corridor where everyone walks out, like in the movies, for a few hours – every person that walked through that door could have been my family. I finally saw them, and burst into tears because of me losing my luggage – not the stress you need. It was weird suddenly going back to family life, like nothing has changed – dad was still grumpy and james was still carrying his soccer ball, and mum was still mum.
Mum panicked because no-one from the car rentals was answering, meaning we couldn’t get to our hotel. Plus she was probably also worried about me losing my luggage – which I finally worked out hadn’t even been put on my flight. They told me they would send it to my hotel.
We rushed into a taxi, who dropped us off at Alamo car rentals, and he’d zoomed off before we’d had a chance to blink and see if we had all our stuff together. Of course, we didn’t, and we’d left the most expensive thing we could on the taxi: our brand new (only two photos taken using it) SLR digital camera, with the other video recorders accessories as well – all of $1600 camera and more, gone in the taxi down the road. I had a thought of dropping my bags and running after it, but they drive so fast in this country that he had practically disappeared. Great. Just what we needed. Then we turn around and watch the free shuttle from the airport drive past. I couldn’t help but think ‘what if…’
Things happen like that: one thing leads to another. If I hadn’t lost my bags, we would have had more time and caught the free shuttle, meaning we would have had time to get everything out of the van – and we would have saved $25 for the taxi, and not lost a camera. Fantastic. But there was more to come later.
FELTHAM TRAVELODGE, LONDON, 1 night:
We found our hotel eventually, and had dinner etc… I was surprised how a simple hotel room looks so posh compared to how I was living at camp – oh my god – a shower within 5 metres, and electricity. And a black box they call ‘tv.’
We had an English breakfast the next morning and then headed to kent for my capita teachers assistant job interview. The rep in Australia told me that my experience in camp would set me up for teaching assistance, even though I have no formal qualifications, but the lady here pretty much told me that I won’t have a chance at all to get a job, at least in kent, but maybe in London. I felt like a right idiot.
LIME TREE INN, LAMBERHURST, 2 nights:
The county of kent is amazing. The streets have cobblestones and old stone houses, and wooden houses that are hand painted black and white, almost looking like german, or dutch houses. Even the bins and the street lamps are elegant. Everything just posseses this upper class feel. Its probably different in most parts of London. But the country towns are preserved like they would have been a hundred years ago.
We then headed off to lamberhurst. It’s a quaint little town with midget doors, flowers hanging in pots, and the village green. Every house has a name, like “rose cottage.” Its all so cute, I kept saying. So different from America and then from Australia.
We stayed in a place called the “lime tree inn.” Luckily my luggage turned up, although the telescopic handle was snapped in half and the top handle was missing completely. So for the rest of the day we looked through bloody insurance papers!!!
We went for a quick walk around the town and down to the Clydesdale horses, and then had a quality meal at a restaurant – its amazing how well people can eat here, compared to America. Although I am finding that I have no energy because I am used to living off sugary foods.
The next day we went to tonbridge castle, the first of many I think. And had a look in another town, having lunch in the lush green grass by a stream with swans and river boats. Mums’ childhood memories are coming streaming back, educating us on the berries you can eat and the different plants and animals. That afternoon we walked up to scotney castle, and stumbled on a wheat field and I got stung by stinging nettle.
TRAVELODGE: MANSFIELD, 1 night:
On Friday we did a lot of driving all the way up to another travelodge in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. We drove halfway up the country in about 7 hours!!! We went past lots of football stadiums, quaint towns with very very narrow roads, and got lost many times. Also went past Coventry, where fox from camp lives!!!
Dad snored like a lawnmower that night, so I didn’t get much sleep ☹ We visited Sherwood forest, the home of robin hood. We saw the major oak, where he would meet up with his merry men, which is between 800-1000 years old, and is dying.
In the clearing near the oak, we stumbled across a medieval campsite – all these people from medieval societies right across England being paid to live and demonstrate the medieval times. They had the dress, cooking, scribes, ropemakers, basket makers and blacksmiths. It was really interesting and they really reincarnated the times.
Unfortunately the weather wasn’t very good – typical English rainy weather!!
SINNINGTON FARM, NORTH YORKSHIRE, 3 nights:
We drove and drove and drove up to Yorkshire, where we had a quick look around at a castle on the top of a man made hill in the city of York, and the carousel. Then we continued to drive up to the north, and found our farm house. ABSOLUTE luxury – two bedrooms, dishwasher etc… I feel like i am living like a king. The place looks out on the fields, with round hay bails dotting the fields, lush green fields with black and white sheep, old stone walls, and wind – I feel like I am already in Scotland!! I had the best sleep that night!!
The next morning we took advantage of the dry but overcast weather and walked around the farm – they have billy goats, sheep, pigs, horses and cows. We walked around the paddocks and up a hill that have us a panoramic view. Its funny how the population of England is like four times bigger than Australia, and the country is tiny, but there is still so much open space, and the towns are tiny, as well as the incredibly narrow streets. You spend most of the time using the middle line in the centre of the car so you don’t hit the cars on either side. We went into Pickering, then spent the afternoon sitting on the hay bails (james got ontop but I couldn’t) and drawing the countryside. Then we made up a hide and seek game behind the bales – pretending we were from a hundred years ago.
The following day, we drove into Delby forest and did a walk. Then we headed off to the famous yorskshire moors, where I could so see them filming king lear in his madness o’th’heath. The heath is this pretty purple flowering bush that covers the countryside as far as the eyes can see, and in season it would be spectacular. We headed off to Aidensfield (properly called Goathland), where Heartbeat is filmed. Saw the old police car used in the films, the garage turn funeral service, and I ordered from the bar “aidensfield arms.’ I can’t believe the sheep here: they don’t have to walk as far as ours do to get grass. Dad said they could live off the metre patch around them for three months. So the rest of the time they just lie down, often in the middle of the road!!!
Also in Goathland, at the quaint old railway station, is where the station at hogwarts in harry potter is flimed. We saw the actual steam train come in and james and I touched the train and got a photo in front of it. We then topped off the day with a visit to Helmsley, this beautiful old town with a creepy old church with toppling over gravestones and crows everywhere – the bells of the church also kept mysertiously rining every five minutes like the phantom of the opera had moved house or something.
James and I wanted to visit helmsley castle but it was closed. So we jumped the castle wall and an old lady, who I think was the owner of the gift shop, was scouting the edges. So I dropped to the ground, pulling my bag down, and examined the dirt for a few minutes, wedged between a cobweb filled stone wall and an ancient mossy tree. I listened to her footsteps, getting closer and seeming to stop right by where I was for a moment, before proceeding on. James and I then met up and we climbed the banks up to the remains of the castle. It was sooo cool – and I filmed our whole adventure, like something out of jeopardy, because we were scared that CCTV would catch us. At one point we ducked and ran along an inside wall, and found a dead end, so we jumped off a ledge just as the pigeons took flight into the sky, from their perch in the castle walls ten metres above. We followed steps up the turrets, but t hey disappeared and we had to head back down again. It was very silly really.
We packed up and left sinnington farms, and headed further north to Scarborough, then a quaint town by the seaside call ‘whitby.’ I found out later that it is where both captain cook and count Dracula originated. Its filled with colourful boats, beautiful stone houses and cobblestone streets, and alleyways which could well be Diagon Alley off Harry Potter. We climbed up to the abbey and st marys cathedral, up the 200 or so steps, which gave us a fantastic view of the town and the harbour. It was odd seeing all the old people (the whole north of England is infested with them, so I can see where eliza gets her personality from (sorry!)) They were sitting there with their knee rugs, hot thermoses and lunchboxes with sandwiches on a bench in the middle of a graveyard.
We went to captain cooks house where he was an apprentice for a few years before he voyaged out. It was really interesting seeing all the old letters, paintings, his kitchen, and learning about his death – I never knew he was killed by natives when he ‘discovered’ Hawaii – but then im not such a history nut.
We had oily fish and chips and a look through the quirky shops and chocolatiers, then drove further and further north, through Newcastle, up to a town called ‘acomb’ near hexham. The countryside up north is even greener.
ACOMB, NORTHUMBERLAND, 5 nights:
Story goes: we recently found a long lost cousin, whose life story could be the base for a novel. His father, harry black, left to complete a twelve month contract in Ghana in the mines the day after Iain was born. His mother, alice patricia or pat as she was fondly called, died three weeks later of septicemia, at the same time that pats sister Margaret found out she couldn’t have children. So Margaret adopted her, and harry became the ‘uncle,’ who had suffered the loss of a wife and a child, and had to live with this dreadful secret. Everybody in the family, including the younger children, were sworn to secrecy on pain of death, and the secret remained buried until iain reached teenagehood. Also, pats best friend acted as a secret link, visiting iain in his adopted home, periodically to check up on him, carrying out a promise that pat had made her keep on her death bed. Also, a doctor called dr black, got really angry at the local hospital for their appauling conditions, and had actually had pat transferred to queen charlottes hospital for the remaining few days of her life. Mum somehow got in contact with an ancestry nut of the family, jimmy scutt, who lives in Holland, and they managed to track down iain. Mum and iain share the same grandfather, and he is my second cousin once removed.
So off we went through the English countryside to visit a relative we had never met, not knowing what to expect. We found the house and a man who I think is the spitting image of a slightly younger david attenbrough, greeted us on the neat driveway. And we were welcomed into their immaculate home for five nights. We met his wife Madeline, and his son and his wife. Imagine suddenly discovering the other half of your family after 65 years of mystery!!
Some funny highlights of our conversations at dinner:
They have this gorgeous dog, Hamish, who rules the roost but is missing a bit…up there. He tripped over a rabbit - one with miximitosis.
Iain said “if you lift one of hamish's ears, you can see daylight through the other.”
He’s really funny, like he always wears pink trousers and a yellow button up shirt. and he delights in sharing his trick where he swings his pocket watch by the chain, landing in his top pocket. he was discouraged from this when he was demonstrating at a cocktail party and revealed a well-tattered top pocket from the years of demonstrating.
Then he started talking about a golf competition playing for a chamber pot. And somewhrere in there he said “wee jordie wasn't a particularly interesting fellow.”
Picking up some Scottish lingo:
"baleed" - bald headed
"jordie" = joe bloggs
daan saaf (down south)- london cockney accent impression
The next day we visited Beamish, an open air museum which recreated the town in the year 1913. It was extremely interesting. We got around by an old tram which exactly resembled the one from the third harry potter. We saw the town – the old shops, including the food wholesalers, the dress store, the automobile, the scary dentist etc… it was weird seeing the ‘old crusties’ as james calls them, creaking around saying “I remember those soaps.” But you learn a lot by directly ‘living’ in history. We also got to see the mining town, and got to go down a coal mine. It was very claustrophobic and I was scared about the wood posts cracking. we also saw the old chapel and the old school house. How much education has changed in a century or so is unbelievable.
The next few days are a blur so I will just be brief:
We went to Durham (elizas beloved town) to the cathedral. James and I climbed the stairs up to the top of the cathedral, giving us a full view of the town, wit hthe river, and rows of stone houses all in rows. That’s when we made up “the adventrues of anne” from little Britain (videoing james acting as anne as she sightsees around England.) We also had an exclusive tour of Durham university, because iain has done lectures there. It was so similar to hogwarts.
we also went to hexham, and saw the old abbey, and went into the crypt. The abbey dates back to 700AD or so, and there were ancient roman monuments and staircases which the knights climbed, and old roman coffins etc… its funny how australia’s history is just a blink compared to the European part of the world.
Yesterday we went to hadrians’ wall – which was a mysterious wall built in 21AD that runs across the entire country from east to west, in Northumberland county and beyond. We walked alongside it, and james and I got photos by (and kissed the tree) the famous tree and well from Robin Hood Prince of Thieves (the tree between two hills.)
(you are not supposed to walk along the wall, but I couldn’t resist moonwalking along it for a little section.)
Then we headed back for lunch and then caught the train ( a two carriage bus looking thing) to Newcastle to see Newcastle united vs Fulham at St James stadium (soccer / football.) they lost 2-1, which was a real let down, but the atmosphere was amazing – the chants, the masses of home crowd wearing the stripy black and white shirts etc…) the stadium holds 70,000 and it was almost full house. The small section of away supporters were blocked off by police officers for their safety!!!!
I couldn’t believe it when the Newcastle supporters got up and left before the game ended because they were losing!!!
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