Return Ticket

I am feeling exceptionally lazy about writing tonight but I did want to share some photos we took this weekend at Leed's castle.

What you do need to know is that our trip there involved riding a bus that had to navigate roads that were so small, cars had to pull aside in some spots to take it in turns passing through.

At one point, a chap that was towing a car behind his, was too hasty and as a result ended up blocking our path. So he tried to back up; several times, but was unsuccessful. Now the old men on the bus were yelling instructions and what sounded like obscenities to the poor guy and the rest of the passengers, including us, were on our feet gawking out the front window. Finally, the bus driver put us in park and hopped into the vehicle being towed in an attempt to get them both out of our path. Back a few feet they would go and invariably swing against the curb. Then forward it came to straighten up and try it all over again only to swing back and jam against the side of the road with nowhere to go. This resulted in more obscenities, fists pumping in the air, more jeering and I finally coaxed Rick to go out and help. God knows, he has had lots of experience with backing up the trailer when we would be dumping wood on the front lawn to be stacked on the porch. But no sooner had he stepped out of the bus, the driver that clearly had no clue how to handle a vehicle in tow, miraculously backed it up far enough for the bus to pass. With the bus driver back behind our wheel this time, we squeezed through the narrow road feeling like we had just come through another dimension in some bizarre episode of Dr. Who. It really was worth the fare of 5 pounds 50, though.

A Place in Time

Ah, spring fever has hit Kent County, and the blossoms are in full bloom and the greenery, which never really lost its hue during the winter months, is now thicker and lusher. We are enjoying the bright days by making good use of the British Heritage membership that we recently purchased for 70 pounds. This pass literally allows us free access to hundreds of heritage sites across Britain, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland. We were initially introduced to the idea after a visit to Stonehenge while Molly was here for a week over Easter break. A map of all of the historical sites was provided to us when we signed up and we were amazed at how many were located so close to Dartford and subsequently an easy train or bus ride away. Since then, we have been to Dover Castle, Down House the home of Charles Darwin, and Eltham Palace.

Dover Castle was the most picturesque castle we had seen so far (apart from Leeds which had the best gardens) as it was situated on top of a hill above the white cliffs and overlooking the English Channel. We had a fabulous view of the ferries approaching and then leaving the docks after we climbed up into the turrets.

They offered a tour of the secret wartime tunnels, which as you can imagine, Channing and Molly were keen to see. However, the timing of the tour and the departure of our ferry to Calaise meant we wouldn’t have enough time to explore beneath the castle and make our sailing. We decided that we would have to make a trip back to Dover castle in the future to see the underground hospital, the barracks for over 2,000 soldiers, and experience life as it was lived by 700 personnel based there during WW 2.

Charles Darwin’s place made me feel homesick as it was a massive home in the country in which he and his wife, Emma, his first cousin oddly enough, lived for 40 years and raised their 11 children. Not that I ever entertained the notion of a family of that size, but there was such a warm and loving feel to the mansion even though it was only their former possession that visitors could see. The famous scientist worked on his revolutionary theories there and he wrote “On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection” which rattled the Victorian world and has influence our thinking ever since.

He also had an outdoor laboratory, which were two greenhouses, where he made many of his discoveries. It was funny because just the other day, Rick and I were talking about how we have always wanted to add a greenhouse onto our garage in Douro so our tour to Darwin’s place inspired us to get plans in order when we return home. Oh yes, and we took lots of pictures, as a reminder too.

Eltham Palace was the former home of millionaires Stephen and Virginia Courtauld and was built in the 1930’s. It was a glamorous palace done up in Art Deco complete with pink leather upholstered chairs, maple veneered walls, aluminum-leaf ceiling, and black and silver doors portraying animals and birds. Virginia had a vaulted bathroom, with gold-plated bath taps, and I personally wanted to end the tour right there and just hang out in her fabulous loo. And for those of you that know me well, know I have a passion for exceptional powder rooms. Good lighting, a heated floor, no man hair in the tub, or toilet lids left up, hey, can you blame a girl?

The fact that their home was equipped with all the latest modern conveniences such as under floor heating, a built-in audio system, and a centralized vacuum cleaner, made it very unique. What I got the greatest charge out of was that they had a centrally-heated sleeping quarters for their pet, Mah-Jongg, a ring-tailed lemur. In the floor of his quarters were an escape hole and a tiny ladder from which he could climb down and into the lower level of the house and wander freely throughout the mansion. Not sure how I would feel about a lemur crawling on my bed in the night. And as I write this, I just know I will be getting some cheeky and inventive responses from you folks about Mah-Jongg.

After the tour, we sat in the sunshine and sipped our tea amongst the palace’s 19 acres of gardens which included a medieval bridge, a sunken rose garden, and a rock garden sloping down to the moat and we talked about what sites we wanted to visit next.

Happy Easter

Holidays are an odd thing, I find, living in another country. After spending years, following certain traditions and routines around Christmas and Easter, whether through food preparation, gifts, or entertaining friends or family, I find myself at a bit of a loss today on Easter Sunday. Molly is visiting for a week and she and Rick have ventured off to London to a couple of markets and a museum and I opted not to go. I thought they could use some quality father and daughter time since it has been almost 8 months since they have seen each other.

Chan is hanging out with his best friend, Sam, today. Sam’s cousin is having an egg hunt for the younger kids and the boys are going to “assist” with the event. Personally, I think it was simply a guise so that they could really romp around too. I think it doesn’t matter how old you get, there is something kinda magical about finding chocolate behind the cushions on the loveseat, on top of a picture frame, or tucked into some little crevice in the stairwell.

At our place in Canada, we had so many places in which to hide the eggs. In fact, weeks and even months later one of the kids would joyfully find a tin foiled egg or dusty jelly bean behind some sheet music on the piano, or next to a bottle of Three Habs on the infamous hot sauce shelf. My favourite thing to do for the kids was to leave an empty Easter basket outside their bedroom doors so that when they woke up on Sunday morning they would pick it up and follow the trail of treats to where their big gift would be waiting. Some new Disney movie, a Lego Transformers set, or perhaps a new spring jacket were my picks for the kids and, the solid Mr. Bunny and a Kinder surprise or two. It was always a challenge to get the kids to wait until after breakfast to start hunting for eggs. It is the one day that you would just have to say screw the rules about starting the day with a balanced meal and let them have some fun.

So before Molly arrived here on Good Friday, Rick told her that we would have an egg hunt in our backyard. Having not been here, she obviously didn’t know exactly how much smaller our home was compared to the farm in Douro so I am sure she thought it would be fun. But when she arrived and saw our postage stamp sized garden with little more than a few patio stones and a garden hose, we all laughed at how ridiculous the concept of trying to hide anything out there really was. I guess it’s the thought that counts.

Now our little English house is quiet and I am debating about whether I should take the time to hide a few eggs around the place. Sure I won’t have piano keys, family portraits, or staircases to use as hiding places but let’s face it; my life is dramatically different now than it was just one year ago.

I had no clue that come Easter 2010, I would be wandering around my two-bedroom terrace house in Dartford, Kent, putting mini cream eggs on our telly we dragged out of the rubbish, and the keyboard Rick found through an ad in the Kent Messenger, and on top of the oil paintings of Greece that I scored at my fav thrift shop.

Does it matter where they find them, even if they aren’t so obscure? Won’t the feeling of discovery still be the same? I have to think that this time it will mean more to them though not only because they won’t expect it, but because it represents something greater than Mr. Bunny or the next best Disney movie. I think what it really means is that no matter where we are in the world, we will always be a family to each other.