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**DETOUR**

Thursday, July 2nd, 2009

by Rachael
Stratford-Upon-Avon, England

I wonder how many of our blog readers think we are exaggerating when we say we have at least one detour every day! Today we had three; two due to wrong turnings on our part and here’s the other:

The police told us the road had been closed for a couple of hours and helpfully suggested an alternative route to our destination. Only thing is, everyone else must have been going to the same place and very quickly we found ourselves sitting on a little lane going nowhere. Visions of the Seven Hour Traffic Jam Around Antwerp replayed and it did not take long for us to decide to find our own way to Chippenham. Our smarty-pants route included one of the wrong turn detours, but I still think we arrived sooner than if we had stayed in Da Jam.

When time is at such a premium, why were we so set on going to Chippenham? It’s not exactly a tourist sort of town. There are no big famous anythings. That could be why it was a good place to evacuate young boys to during the war. Today we wanted to find the street, nay the very house, that Grandpa was sent to with Cousin M from Alton, who we met last week. Actually it was not just them – there were three families and a boarder and a few others as well all squeezed in to this semi-detached two-storey home. And when one of the fathers came to visit it tipped the already fragile equilibrium, and so Grandpa and his brother would be sent to sleep next door, something they never complained about as the beds were big and comfortable and there was a BATH. This is the house that had a ledge just below the second storey window, from which Grandpa and the same brother used to jump onto the back lawn when their mother went out. They had read that jumping from eight feet was good preparation for learning to parachute, so this ledge seemed a gift to young boys – how obvious a place to practise! This was also the house from which they pushed Baby Cousin C in a pram – sometimes at the park at the end of the street, sometimes in a nearby woods, usually on a Sunday morning, always far faster than Baby C’s mother would have approved of. Baby C survived, moved to America and now has grown children of her own.

So the stories started flowing again.
Jgirl14 observed eagerly, gathering information for the story she is writing based on Grandpa’s World War Two experiences. Grandpa is collaborating with her, having drawn some illustrations for the story (will it perhaps even be a book?) and so we took a mug shot of the two of them together to go on the back cover one day. You can read the first draft of the first chapter HERE if you wish.

 

But Chippenham was not the final destination for the day. We still needed to take another wrong turning and head towards Stratford-Upon-Avon. I had high expectations for this town, having heard how wonderfully beautiful it is, but it was already late by the time we arrived and so I cooked dinner while the others walked. Look at what they saw:

Tomorrow Aunty and Grandpa hire a car and take off solo for a quick stint further north; we’ll have time to savour Stratford. We might even do it without a detour!
(Postscript: pouring rain tomorrow means Rob will deliver Aunty and Grandpa to their rental car while the rest of us blob in the Bear Cave….they will pull out of our lane and choose the wrong one of two possible turnings….moments later they will return somewhat sheepishly andproceed on the correct road!!!! I told you we have to detour every day.)

Time on the road: need to check Jboy13’s record!
Distance covered: 160km

*university*

Wednesday, July 1st, 2009

by a linguistics graduate
Bath, England

That Bath is a university town was particularly apparent today – hundreds of black-gowned graduates were out on display, marching the streets, proudly clutching their certificates. It seemed an appropriate place to check out second-hand bookshops and augment our meagre-but-much-larger-than-last-week supply.

Staying in a book-filled home, we have delighted in snuggling on the couch poring over, reading every word in more Beatrix Potter books than you would imagine possible in one sitting! When we left home, ER(then 2) had her favourite books, but Peter Rabbit was not among them. Yesterday, after I had read aloud a couple of bunny books, she asked to read the next. And she made a valiant effort! I love this early reading and have really missed it. I also love cuddling on the couch, children draped all over me, experiencing a written world; I’ve missed that too. But I wouldn’t swap what we have had for all the books in the world – when we opened one of the books yesterday, the children recognised foxgloves, just like the ones where we were staying a few nights ago, just like at the roadsides all this last week. They hadn’t met real life foxgloves before!

With regards to reading, something has been intriguing/bothering/puzzling me over the past few days. When we left home Lboy8 was seven years old and a struggling reader. He was sounding his way laboriously through regular words.
The other day we picked up an armful of books from a High Street charity shop in Looe. Lboy8 took a look at “My Naughty Little Sister” and promptly devoured it. Ever since, current experiences with his own naughty little sister have been compared to the literary exploits, the every-chapter-starts-exactly-the-same rhythm has been duly noted and pointed out to all-n-sundry, and the irony of the big sister still being a little kid did not escape him.
So how did that happen? Sure, this particular book is “only” written at an 8yo reading age, and so it is nothing remarkable that he can read it. But for almost nine months Lboy8 has had almost no reading material (unless you count his own poorly creatively-spelt journal). There have been hardly any social reading opportunities in English (street signs or food packaging, for example) and, as already mentioned, we have not been reading aloud.
I am of the opinion that, just like with breathing, eating and walking, given the opportunity at a maturationally-appropriate time, a child will pick up reading without a twelve-step programme or huge amounts of blood, sweat and tears.
To be honest, I did think Lboy8’s already limited reading skills would be compromised with such a break, but within the context of our whole family, this was a sacrifice worth making, an opportunity cost not too great. He’s got the rest of his life to learn to read, but we are unlikely to ever walk the Great Wall of China with Grandpa again. Even when we have had time to read (like when we were slowed down in Luang Prabang for three weeks), other things took precedence. At that particular time it was more important to us that the children learnt to overcome the language barrier and play with the children we were living with. Reading, we figured, could wait.
Except that it hasn’t. It’s happened anyway. Without any input from us apart from playing word games on long train journeys. How? I did think we at least needed to provide the opportunity, but we haven’t even done that. So now what do I do with my learning theories????

On the topic of word games…..here’s a goodie our couchsurfing host taught us tonight. You think of a word with two meanings (like glasses or cold or sun/son or flour/flower or tongue….) Everyone else has to try to guess your word by asking you questions. When you answer each question, you have to include your word, but instead of saying the word, you say COFFEEPOTS. We’ll be playing this one again!

So mused I, as we wandered around Bath today….

Time on the road: none
Distance covered: 0km

Canterbury Tales

Sunday, June 21st, 2009
by Rachael Canterbury, England This whole trip started with Rob’s desire to travel around England with his Dad, seeing where Grandpa had grown up (apart from his years in India), gathering family stories, meeting as-yet-unmet family. Moving on from being a mere ... [Continue reading this entry]

time marches on

Sunday, June 14th, 2009
by Rachael Vianen, Holland She peeked out that window. She saw Jews walking along the street and felt guilty, as if she had betrayed them by hiding. She agonised about fresh air. She felt trapped. She felt proud to be a ... [Continue reading this entry]

amsterdam antics

Saturday, June 13th, 2009
by a Mama, whose knee will not get better – still swollen and wound filled with pus Amsterdam, Holland THE MORNING: driving to Amsterdam flat flat flat

windmills windmills windmills

 

[Continue reading this entry]

connecting historical faith

Friday, May 29th, 2009
by Rach Kehl, Germany – visit to Strasbourg, France The Tower of Babel, the Parting of the Red Sea, The Last Supper, Pentecost – these are a few important markers in the history of Christianity and today we were reminded of ... [Continue reading this entry]

Once upon a time….

Saturday, May 23rd, 2009
by Mama Bear Oberammergau, Germany …there were eleven bears; you may well remember eight of them were children and one was a Grandpa Bear. Of course there were also a Papa Bear and Mama Bear. While their porridge was cooling they ... [Continue reading this entry]

What else could go wrong today? Fact or fiction?

Thursday, May 21st, 2009
by Rach  Rothenburg ob der Tauber “Something’s burning” Yes, we were cooking rice porridge for breakfast. But in doing so we were also singeing the edge of the custom-fit-into-our-kitchen-bench chopping board. Small consolation that we were obviously not the first to have ... [Continue reading this entry]

yawn

Wednesday, May 6th, 2009
by Rach Berlin, Germany more of the same ol’ same ol’ For a start, Berlin is just like Auckland – showers interspersed with heavy downpours. Grey clouds all day. We’d forgotten about rain (and how nice it was to do so!) We ate black ... [Continue reading this entry]

booklovers

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009
by the mama-book-lover Berlin, Germany We haven’t had much literature and so now we are feasting. Grandpa is reading a book he had been waiting to find at the library in NZ for months. Jgirl14 and Jboy13 have spent two days negotiating time ... [Continue reading this entry]