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yes-n-no

Saturday, July 11th, 2009

by Rachael
somewhere between Corbridge and Hexham, England

A blog reader (hi Sharon!) writes:
Hubby says “They must be getting sick of castles and ruins”.
I say “NO WAY!!”
So, what’s the answer?

You’re both right! (diplomatic of me, huh?!)
Today was a castle-less day, and we didn’t miss them one little bit (well, we are parked just on the side of some woods with a massive lived-in-looking castle complete with crenellations poking up through the trees – and we still did manage to *marvel* at it from a distance….and Jboy13 was rather keen to follow the signs we saw to an archaeological dig at another nearby castle….so no, can’t really say we’re over them just yet).
The next few days will be castle-less. We’re in Hadrian’s Wall country and plan to do a spot of exploring….I guess we’ll find some ruins….hopefully we’re not over them either.
As parents we find castles-and-ruins to be great places, because the children tend to be so engrossed that they forget to argue. Said children love them as well – the games you can play are endless (the ultimate hide-n-seek places, and you’ll never be found if you are prepared to hide in the dunny chute), and they make for inspirational journalling. Usually there’s a good amount of green grass surrounding them too, so if all else fails (not that it has yet), we could bring out a ball to kick around.
Probably the biggest problem is the Information Overload. The audio tours we have listened to have been fascinating, and packed with more information than my head will ever hold. But I’m not trying to retain it all and don’t expect the children to either. These castle rambles are more about developing one of our “education roots”….INSPIRATION. We hope the children will walk away from these crumbling walls with the knowledge that some things last and some things don’t, that you need to choose what to build, that you can choose to live a “lasting” life. We want them to understand that what they do in their own lives can live on forever…..and that it might live on literally for generations. We want them to be able to dream big dreams and pursue a vision. If they don’t remember who fell over the cliff at Scarborough – or was it Tintagel? – it really doesn’t matter!
Because our goal is to inspire, we will stop the castle visits before we start yawning.

So we are enjoying the stone stories…..but, all that said, I can see we will also be looking forward to something non-castle-ish by the end of England. After a week or two in Provence, you’ll be asking “Aren’t they getting sick of good food?” <wink>

Anyway, today was a driving day. We drove through Scarborough town, along the coast, through forest and on to the North Yorkshire Moors. For the past few days, signs had been telling us we were in the moors and I was disappointed. Too much Thomas Hardy had me believing they were covered with heather and a barren desolate place to wander. All the moors we saw were rolling hills covered with agricultural enterprise. There were purple flowers at the roadside, but not the scrubby heather I was expecting.
Then there was today.
Up a hill we climbed, Jgirl14 pointing out from the front van that there was some plant at the side of the road that sounded like my description of heather, and what’s more it was flowering. Sure enough, there was a little. Not exactly the rolling expanse, but better than nothing. I requested a stop to pull over and inspect more closely. Over the hill we were delighted to see sprawling before us, hectares of rolling scrub- covered purple-flowering heather-covered hills. And there was even a layby to pull into. Not only that, there was a stile with a big signpost invitation stating the ground was private, but that we could wander over it if we liked. The biggest continuous heather covered area in all of England. My disappointment abated completely. And you could imagine it being desolate….today was Saturday and the roads ribboning over the hills were full of zooming cars, but in the absence of the vehicles, with a bit of fog and a light drizzle, you’d think you were in the middle of an English novel.

Later in the day we would take another wander. Right beside our night-time-spot (this time a layby just off a fairly main road, wheat field rising up to wood-covered hill on one side, forest on the other) we discovered a wee trail through the trees and fields. Just right for going on a bear hunt and looking for an elephant tree and catching a heffalump (spot our favourite books).

Time on the road: need to check Jboy13’s record!
Distance covered: 182km

*tumultuous*

Friday, July 10th, 2009

by Rach
Scarborough, England

That’s both the history of the castle we visited today and the sea we are parked beside tonight. (Come to think of it, the adjective aptly describes the behaviour of all children in our care today as well….not to mention the adults – if we are to be entirely honest, both of us raised our voices at various smallfry big-enough-to-know-better-fry in the graveyard we were parked in this afternoon too. Hopefully Anne Bronte did not turn in her grave – yes, that would be Charlotte’s little sister. And yes, the graveyard really had been made into a pay-n-display carpark – all the not-so-famous headstones have been removed and are stacked up around the stone walls – bet there was a long church meeting to reach that decision!)

Anyway, the sea. It rolls in, enormous great waves that swallow the black warning flags. Rolls. Rolls. Rolls. We have never seen such waves that do not break until they hit the stone wall holding up the road. Initially it was an eerie sight; so much so that some of the children did not want to leave the vans to go and peer over the wall! But we all ended up leaning, sitting, standing on the wall and marvelling. The more you watched, the less imposing those waves seemed. And the wall did a marvellous job of stopping them – even though it looked like they would just keep rising over!
All that said, we decided to push on around the point to find a less formidable place to sleep. The question is, is it any better? This side the waves are enormous and break in a roaring rush of water. As we ate dinner (inside the van – too cold to sit outside, coz this is English Summer, you know) we watched the waves crash against the concrete barrier beside the road; sometimes the spray reached so high complete houses across the bay were obliterated from view! But somehow it felt more comforting to see the waves break – coz that’s what waves are s’posed to do!

So here we are at the base of the cliff. If we look up we can see Scarborough Castle. See?

It looked much more impressive from up the top this afternoon and the view was spectacular. As ever, the audio tour was top-notch. Favourite snippets include the fact that one of the kings would plant pig-attracting grains on the edges of his fields and then charge the pigs’ owners to retrieve their animals……and the fact that one of the attacking leaders got blown off the cliff by a gust of wind – first of all it took his hat right off his head, then it blew his cape up over his face and he stumbled and fell down the cliff – took him six weeks to recover and renew the attack….and it struck us as significant that this piece of land where we were standing had been occupied since 800BC – that’s nearly 3,000 years…..and as recently as the First World War the stronghold was being attacked, and even in the Second World War it was used as a secret listening post to intercept enemy transmissions. This is a place with some history, and as I mentioned, a tumultuous one. Five times it was besieged – but never taken. Some of the sieges were long-lasting too. And one ended with the front of the keep being blown to pieces – the audio recording was so realistic, the children felt they were right there when it happened. I suppose they were there, right where it happened, just a few hundred years later.

Time on the road: need to check Jboy13’s record!
Distance covered: 35km

strawberry fields forever

Thursday, July 9th, 2009
by Rach Somewhere between Helmsley and Scarborough, after Beadlam, not exactly sure where, England Strawberry picking just before dinner. No-one complained about that unplanned stop! But it was hardly the highlight of the day. (Actually, just as an aside, this week I ... [Continue reading this entry]

vision

Wednesday, July 8th, 2009
by a dreamer Helmsley, England In my imagination in the middle of sheep covered hills there is a town set around a market square. The market square has little shops – butcher, baker, cheese seller, cloth merchant, wool shop, tailor, candlemaker, ... [Continue reading this entry]

quick eats

Tuesday, July 7th, 2009
by the cook Byland Abbey, 1/2 a mile from Wass, 1 1/2 from Oldstead, 6 1/2 from Helmsley, England My kitchen view keeps changing. This morning when I was chucking together the curry it was out across a huge grass reserve ... [Continue reading this entry]

hi ho hi ho, it’s off to York we go

Monday, July 6th, 2009
by Rachael Harrogate, England So if we’re off to York, why did we end up in Harrogate? Just before we set off this morning, Jgirl14 mentioned Harrogate-where-Grandpa-lived-for-a-couple-of-years-during-the-war, but as Rob said not a word, we surmised we were not going there. Never ... [Continue reading this entry]

a journey through time

Sunday, July 5th, 2009
by Rachael Telford, England We start in the year MDCCLXXIX. How long does it take you to work it out? We know our Roman numerals, but they don’t slip off the tongue quite so readily as 1779! We are at Telford and ... [Continue reading this entry]

another saturday turns late

Saturday, July 4th, 2009
by Rachael Telford, England When the day dawns bright and clear and you’re in Stratford-Upon-Avon, there is really only one thing to do. row boats high hopes perfect day swans sway stone bridges green hedges church steeple happy people co-operation oars in motion lost hat can’t get backnever mind left behindglide along nothing’s ... [Continue reading this entry]

simple precious mama moments

Friday, July 3rd, 2009
by Mama Stratford-Upon-Avon, England At home she was Mama’s girl. Within weeks of being on the road she was Dadda’s girl, and far more fiercely so than she had ever been attached to me. This special fondness for Dadda was initially ... [Continue reading this entry]

introducing…….

Thursday, July 2nd, 2009
Jgirl14’s story, based on Grandpa’s young-boy wartime exploits, and most probably incorporating the experiences of other people she has had opportunity to interview whilst on this trip as well. People like extended family, who provide another slant to the same ... [Continue reading this entry]