"The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land;
it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land."
G.K. Chesterton
Sometimes I forget I am actually English and when I go back to the UK it can seem like a foreign land to me. Two decades of displacement from continent to continent has left me homesick for countries and friends that have little connection to my family origins. Yet, flying into Manchester always brings me back full circle and I begin to ease into the familiarity of the North of England.
Even before I popped out through customs into the embrace of my family, the English accents of the airport staff sounded welcoming and familiar. The moment someone added 'luv' in a thick Mancunian accent to the end of a sentence e.g. "it's that baggage carousel luv", I knew I still belonged. Sometimes however, this historic affiliation isn't enough and I'm driven to try and fit back in, try to channel my inner pome (Prisoner of Mother England). I don't look typically English with pale, smooth skin. I'm weathered and wrinkly in comparison. My accent has turned bitzer, bits of American, bits of South African and bits of Australian. I don't recognize the politicians, soap opera stars or the latest football hero. I talk way too openly about feelings and money, I wear sunglasses, I tip and I am demonstrative in a far too gushy way. There's something slightly off about the way I dress too, I bought my gear from China just like the rest of the world but my duds are the America-China version. I know I'm going to spend the next few weeks eating fish and chips and drinking beer to try and rejoin this eclectic gang of 60 million on these mist ridden isles.
"Some family trees have beautiful leaves, and some have just a bunch of nuts. Remember, it is the nuts that make the tree worth shaking."
Unknown
The kids seemed to slide right in, no problem, although they always get asked where they are from. When people ask me where I'm from I have different versions for different occasions, depending where I am. I usually only inflict people with the short story and go for the basic UK answer. If the victim of my short story probes for a more detailed location I throw out either Liverpool due to the Beatles connection or Manchester because lots of folks know Manchester United Football Club courtesy of David Beckham. If I get a query about my accent it is to the questioner's detriment because then they are in for the long story.
I'm not from either of those sprawling industrial cities. In actual fact I'm from a tiny farming village that appeared in the Doomsday book of 1086. It used to have a castle but that was destroyed in the Civil War in the 1600's. Many of the quaint low ceiling buildings and homes are several hundred years old. It's a charming hamlet with only a few thousand people, narrow roads, hanging baskets and slate roofs. It's all very picturesque and rural. When I walk across the cobbles of the Royal Oak Pub, I am reminded of a life I would have lived if the wanderlust had not taken hold.
“Friends come and go, but relatives tend to accumulate.”
Author Unknown
We were beside ourselves when we finally got to meet the cousins! It would seem my brothers and sisters had been making up for lost time. The kids and I were in baby heaven.
"Like branches on a tree, our lives may grow in different directions
yet our roots remain as one."
Author Unknown
I was so happy my sister had come to meet us at the airport with her 9 month old daughter, Shosonee. When I held my nieces and nephew, I really felt the strong pull back to the Mother Country. Or maybe its just tweaky ovaries? Regardless, at times like that I wished I could create an Avatar, an Auntie Andrea I could leave behind. My family could just dust her off for Christmas and Birthdays so I wouldn't miss out.
“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood,
but of respect and joy in each other’s life.”
Richard Bach
We stayed in Manchester for a few days to hang out with my brother Luke and his better half Emma, their daughter Rose and new addition to the family Herbie. I was over the moon for them. Their love for Manchester is infectious and we always have fun there.
Mamucium is the ancient Roman fort underneath the industrialized modern city. I always attribute my nose to Roman genealogy. Around 300 AD, the Romans left the Anglo Saxons to it for about 700 years until the Norman invasion in 1066. Perhaps my olive skin and love of garlic can be traced back to a French connection? Around the 1300's Manchester grew into a wool and linen area and over the following centuries into a "Cottonopolis". By the 1800's it became the first urbanized, industrialized city in the world. In 1913, 65% of the world's cotton was produced in the Manchester area. The 20th century downturn meant Manchester needed a massive inner city regeneration program in the 1980's. Manchester is unofficially seen as the UK's second city and officially the "Arndale" is the UK's largest city centre shopping mall. My kinda town.
“Human beings are the only creatures on earth
that allow their children to come back home.”
Bill Cosby
After drudging through 2000 years of history, it's time to head for the hills. We enjoyed some Grandma and Pops time, in the beauty of the English countryside. Begrudgingly, I made the kids finish off the last sections of homeschool and then we were free for some day trippin'.
"The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well
is that they have a common enemy.”
Sam Levenson
We had a 70th birthday to attend in Upholland which was where Mom had grown up. We took some time to drive down memory lane and decided to stop at the church to see the grave of the infamous Highwayman, George Lyon, 1761 to 1815. George had a litany of crimes to his name and had already been transported to one of the colonies for 7 years. On his return to Upholland, his notoriety as a petty criminal and ladies man increased. George plotted with his cohorts in the Bulls Head public house and decided to rob the Liverpool mail coach. After the successful heist, they returned to the pub. When the robbed coach driver later arrived at the same inn, George had his alibi - why of course - people had seen them there earlier in the afternoon. The brilliance was in the obvious simplicity, I think. Another blunder heist attributed to George was when he stepped out into the rain to rob the coach taking wages to the mine. The gunpowder was drenched and the gun useless, so the coachman simply drove past George. Unsurprisingly, his thieving ways finally caught up with him and he was hanged for robbery at Lancaster Castle in 1815. Prior to his death he had begged to be buried in Upholland rather than his body be handed over for dissection by the surgeons.
"Uncles like you are precious and few!"
Unknown
Only cake was dissected at the birthday party of a very dear almost Uncle. Keith and Dad have been friends for almost 60 years. Being an only child, Dad sort of viewed Keith as the brother he never had and so we saw him as the Uncle we were very happy to have. Looking back, I realize how his patience and kindness was such a gift. It was such a treat to have his jolly smile back in my life for an afternoon.
"The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out his nose."
Garrison Keillor
The kids were full of smiles and giggles when we caught the train over the Pennine Mountains to Yorkshire to visit my brother Rob.
"A brother shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams."
Author Unknown
It was such a lovely treat to go for a pint with my brother in his local. The Victorian village of Saltaire was named after Sir Titus Salt who built a textile mill and village on the River Aire. Interestingly, Greg claims he is related to Sir Titus but after his claims of Swedish Princehood fell through, I am still waiting for the DNA proof and inherited title. Lady Huglin does have a certain ring to it though. Saltaire is a UNESCO site and the rows of stone cottages built for the workers are now expensive sought after homes. Wandering the cobbled streets is a charming olde worlde experience. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay long in Yorkshire as we had a date with some Jubilee celebrations.
No comments:
Post a Comment