Today was a little bit about castles, and mostly about driving.
We visited Conwy, Rhuddlan and Chester castles, and then drove from North Wales to the top of England. We will drive into Scotland tomorrow.
There will be less castles from now on – the English never got a long enough foothold in Scotland to build them! I’ve really enjoyed seeing the range of castles in England and Wales. They are each different, and each one gave us a little more information and how they were built and why they were important.
Penrith isn’t much of anywhere – half way between Manchester and Glasgow, just to break up the driving. The place we are staying at is lovely – a ye olde English pub with rooms above, full of character. And by character I mean it feels like it might fall over at any moment. But our room is great, well appointed with a huge king bed and warm and cosy.
The big news of the moment is the announcement of the next iPad. We arrived at our hotel in plenty of time to watch a live blog of the Apple event taking place in Cupertino. Its very exciting, since we will be here when the new device lands and hopefully we’ll be able to pick one up next week! I only have the iPad 1 so I’ve been waiting eagerly for this version to arrive – mine is just starting to get too old to be useful. Hurrah!
An example of an unrestored spiral staircase, and one that’s been fixed up. We’ve walked up a lot of these in the past few days. A LOT.
Today was all about the castles. And you were thinking all the other days were about castles. It just gets betterer and betterer. We visited Dolbadarn, Caernarfon and Beaumaris.
The contrasts between all the castles is really interesting – some are really grand and obviously lived in, others are mainly there as fortifications. The castles in this area were all built around the same time, 1200-1350 and mainly as fortifications in the war between the English and the Welsh.
Dolbadarn is a Welsh castle, built to defend against the English invaders. There is not much of it left.
Caernarfon is huge and bristling with fortifications. It is very obviously designed for defense – the English built by Edward I as a stronghold against the local Welsh. It’s also the place where successive Princes of Wales have been invested, including Prince Charles.
What amazes me is that we are allowed to roam all over it, climbing to the tallest towers and into every little corner of the place.
Beaumaris is another English castle built by Edward I, but not finished. It’s appearance is less grand than some others because it doesn’t have the tall towers – they were never completed.
My legs ached at the end of the day from playing on these things all day, but it was so much fun! More again tomorrow!
Today we weaved our way in and out of Wales and England as we travelled up the country to Bangor. The day can be summarised thus: a lot of driving and castles, interspersed with snacks.
The day had a feel of “we’re not in Kansas anymore” to it. Wales shares a border with England but has a very different vibe. The small towns seem wealthier and better kept, the people seem friendlier, and then there is this crazy language they speak. Welsh it impenetrable – I don’t see how anyone could learn it on their own. The words can’t be spoke phonetically as there are rules about consonant groups that are a mystery to me, and some of which have no equivalent English sound (LL for example).
At least while we at here we will have plenty of exposure to the language. The Welsh are very proud of their language and the government has made a serious effort to revive it from a gasping end. All public signs and announcements are in Welsh and English.
We started our morning in England at Acton Burnell Castle (not so interesting) and Ludlow Castle. Ludlow is another 12th century ruin, smaller than yesterday’s and more complete. Again we were able to roam all over it – climbing towers and checking out all the alleys and nooks. Fantastic!
Ludlow Castle
An engineering marvel, but bloody hard to climb!
The view from Montgomery Castle, a brief stop along the way
The other highlight was Powys in Wales. It was first built in the 12th century, and unlike all the others, is not a ruin. It has enjoyed continual occupation for the past 850 or so years. It was really interesting to be able to walk through an undamaged castle with much of the original furniture and decoration intact (stuff ranging from 100-850 years old). It made the ruins we’ve seen make so much more sense.
The main wing of Powys Castle
So we arrived at Bangor in the dark, happy at our days adventure – we are learning more and more about the construction and structure of castles with each passing day. Stephen reckons we will be able to build our own by the time we get home.
I love Bath. It’s a lovely clean, up market town and it just looks so different from anywhere else. Since we’d arrived so late yesterday, we came back into town this morning for a second look around.
The Roman Baths were stunning, as usual. There was more archeology uncovered since last time I was there. It’s cool that the site is a work in progress – there’s always something new to discover.
After the baths we popped in to the Pump House (a Georgian tea rooms, very posh) for an underwhelming coffee, and then went to the nearby Apple Store, just because we could. I got an adorable little charm for my Pandora bracelet, and then we headed out of Dodge – to Shrewsbury via Chepstow.
Chepstow (in South Wales) exceeded my expectations. The 12th century Norman castle was amazing. It has a huge castle complex, and although a ruin, is really well presented. We were able to roam all over the buildings, going up and down towers, along the ramparts, through all the rooms. Totally awesome, we were like kids in a castle-store.
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Stepping out of the castle after a good hour and a half, we found a cute little pub for lunch, a lovely hot meal after a bitterly cold morning. It had been raining and started hailing just as we finished at the castle. Luckily the sleet didn’t start until we were in the cosy warmth of our car.
We drove back into England for our next stop – Ludlow. We arrived much too late to visit the castle and it was seriously cold, so we’d ditched for today and decided we’d have another look tomorrow.
Our hotel in Shrewsbury is comfy, cosy and well appointed (and by that I mean free wifi).
We were up early again today (damn jet lag) so we packed up and left for Christchurch first thing. We had breakfast at a lovely little cafe (Cheese and Alphie) on the main road. Well, Stephen had breakfast while I glared at the gross pancakes I couldn’t eat (smothered in butter). On the up side, Christchurch has a nice little priory and a ruined motte and bailey castle. We were able to clamber up and around the ruin, it was pretty cool.
After breakfast, the plan was to drive to Glastonbury, two hours away. About one hour into the drive, I noticed I didn’t have my wallet. I realised immediately that I’d left it on the nightstand in the hotel in Bournemouth. I called the hotel, and they confirmed they had it. There was nothing to do but drive back and get it.
So eventually we made it to Glastonbury mid-afternoon. What a weird place. It’s teeming with full-on hippies, mystic shops, tarot readers … that sort of thing. So very in-British, and so very interesting. Glastonbury is the site of a 12th century Norman abbey that was sacked under Henry VIII during the reformation – Glastonbury was staunchly Catholic and Henry had just created the Church of England. The sacking was the punishment for not bowing to the kings wishes.
After Glastonbury was Wells Cathedral – a perfect contrast. It too is a 12th century construction (though Gothic), and it stands gleaming and tall, not a stone out of place. Wells converted to Church of England during the reformation so was spared the fate of churches and monasteries that displeased the king. Wells has been through a recent and extensive renovation and looks simply magnificent. Of particular note is the scissor arch – I’ve never seen one like this anywhere else.
We were hoping to get to Bath Abbey too before closing, but arrived 30 minutes too late to see inside. Still, we had a good wander around the outside, and then found a Wagamama for a good hearty Japanese nosh-up. We will head back to Bath tomorrow to finish poking around.
Our accommodation for this evening is the very posh Winford Manor Hotel. Is clean and comfy and has no drips that I can see! Perfection.
Since we were up before the sparrows anyway, we hit the road early this morning. Our first destination was Portsmouth, the home of Nelson’s flagship HMS Victory. It was pretty impressive – not the kind of thing you’d want to stumble upon out on the seven seas.
The rest of the day was a round of castles and cathedrals and such like.
Winchester Cathedral
Old Sarum (the former seat of power in Salisbury, sits atop a hill overlooking the Salisbury plain)
Salisbury Cathedral
(view of the spire from Old Sarum)
(the Cloisters)
We popped in to visit Stonehenge on the way too, it’s an impressive set of standing stones. You can’t help but wonder at the stupidity of those people wasting so much energy getting the huge stones there and upright. It must have been really important to them!
(Stephen prancing)
We finished our day on Bournemouth. It’s not a terribly attractive place, and to be honest our hotel is a bit of a hole (it had a leaky ceiling that’s dripping on Stephen). And another rock-hard bed. We might need to up our accommodation budget methinks…
I’m not even going to talk about the 11-hour flight from Christchurch to Singapore or the 13-hour flight from Singapore to London. The transit hotel at Changi Airport in Singapore was a godsend – it was so good to be able to shower and lay down between flights.
The journey from London to Brighton, on the other hand, was easy-as. Our lovely rental car agent from Hertz upgraded us to a brand new Nissan Duke with free sat-nav because she was from Christchurch and we are on our honeymoon. After a fairly straightforward (we only got lost once) hour and a half drive, we successfully navigated our way to the Brighton Apple Store. Yes, we went to the Apple Store before we checked into our hotel. It was early and we were killing time. And now Stephen will be able to kill time playing with his new 11″ MacBook Air. Whoop! It’s so pretty.
We decided in the afternoon to pop over to Arundel, 30 minutes drive away. It has a huge and impressive Norman castle (not open to the public unfortunately) and a lovely neo-Gothic Catholic cathedral. It is of a similar size, age and style to our Christ Church Cathedral (although grander and with a tower rather than a spire).
As I sat and looked up at the lovely vaulted ceiling, I couldn’t help but compare. It made me sad to think that ours is probably going to be gone soon. I lit a candle and said a remembrance for the 185 souls we lost.
And then I hear just now that our cathedral is coming down. I look forward to seeing what grows up in its place. I hope it is something magnificent.
This day has been a focus point for me for the past four years. On February 29th, 2008 I wondered where I’d be on Leap Day in four years time. Let me tell you the story of that day, and what happened after it. It’s not a short story, so get comfy. Or flag it altogether, I promise I won’t be offended. This is my story, for me.
On February 29th, 2008 I was lost. My life had been changing for a couple of years, so I didn’t notice the lost-ness creeping up on me. By the time it hit, I was a goner.
I don’t know where it started, but a couple of memories stand out. Coming home from work one evening in October 2006, a fleeting thought crossed my mind: “I’ve fulfilled my purpose in life…there is no point to me any more”. In the biological sense, I’d done my job. My son was soon to turn 18 and I was examining what I’d done with my life.
And I had a good life – a great job that I loved, two awesome kids, a stable relationship, a nice home. Lots of great friends.
Bebe and Antz
On my son’s 18th birthday in November 2006, I had an overwhelming sense of sadness. For his passing childhood, and for the loss of my own youth. I grieved the teenage-hood I never had because I was too busy raising two young children. I know it was my choice and I never regretted it, not even for a moment. But sometimes when I saw my little people growing up, doing things I missed out on, it made me sad.
That moment passed and life moved on. But I think something shifted without me realising it. I had a growing sense of dis-ease. Like a faint voice in the background that got louder as time went by.
Restless, irritable, discontent. This was me.
My partner was diagnosed with cancer in 2007. He shut himself away from me and didn’t want to face it. That’s just not the way I do things, so I faced up to his mortality on my own while he ignored it. We grew apart.
My job changed from being a joy to a chore – I was bored, and had no room to move. My contented life was unravelling.
Fast forward to the end of 2007. I had planned a trip for my daughter’s 16th birthday. A big OE for us both – London, Paris, Athens, Rome and everywhere in between. The thought of that adventure kept me going through 2007. The faint noise had become a din. It threatened to drown me out, but I didn’t realise that then. I thought I could move through it – my attitude to life was that everything would be okay eventually, just wait it out.
I experienced the joy of watching my baby girl turn 16 in Paris. So grown up. So didn’t need me anymore (I thought to myself).
Bebe and Meagle
At some point during our holiday, my brain made a decision that would change everything. I have trouble saying that ‘I’ made the decision, because it didn’t feel like I was deciding anything – I felt compelled to change my life. It felt necessary for survival. After I came home in January, I ended my relationship with my partner. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. He had recently recovered from intense chemo and things were looking up. He might recover. This was my dilemma:
Do I stay with him only because he has cancer, and wait to see what happens? Or do I leave now, and become that girl who broke up with her boyfriend even though he’s dying of cancer? Rock / Hard Place.
Like I said, it felt more like a compulsion than a choice in the end. It’s one of the few choices I’ve made in my life that I feel truly bad about. It wasn’t the wrong choice – I don’t regret it, but it sits uncomfortably … if that makes sense.
At the same time, I made a decision to leave. I needed to get away. All the things that gave me joy in the past suddenly felt like they were crushing me. So I ran. At the beginning of February 2008 I quit my job, sold my house, left my partner. I’d never been so miserable.
Here’s how I remember February 2008. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. Everything I ate made me feel sick. I could only sleep for a couple of hours at a time before I jolted awake, exhausted but unable to sleep again. I got to cracking point in mid-February and went to a doctor for advice. She suggested I had a form of anorexia nervosa. She prescribed anti-depressants and sleeping pills. I didn’t trust myself to even fill the prescription. I tore it into tiny pieces and scuttled back into my misery.
On February 28th 2008 I was at bottom. I was too tired to do anything. I lay in my bed too exhausted to get up and eat or drink. I felt done. I was chatting online to my friend Scuddy. He told me I’d feel better if I got up, had a drink of water, ate some toast and went for a walk. It sounded so simple. So I did it. And I did feel better.
Whatever had descended felt like it might lift. It was like I could see a tiny glimmer of light down a long black corridor. I woke up the next morning with a resolve to find myself. I used to be happy. Where had that Bebe gone? She was there, I just had to figure out where exactly.
It was February 29th, 2008. Leap Day. It seemed like a good day to make a change. I took a bus to town and went to a jewellers. I purchased a plain silver bracelet. On the inside of the bracelet I had inscribed, “To thine own self be true”. To forever remind me of this day. I went home and figured that I had four years to find myself. In four years it would be February 29th again, and I’d be somewhere different. I thought about that unimagined future, and it gave me hope.
The voice that had been a din, drowning out all thought, whispered, “you can be anything you want, you can do anything you want”. It scared me, but another feeling was in there too, interest. What would I be? What would I do?
You know the rest of the story. In slow steps, I got to here and now. I left, I wandered, I cried, I found myself, I found peace. I came back, found a new job, became a grandmother, met Stephen and resumed life amongst the humans.
From this vantage point, I look back on 2008 Bebe and I’m thankful. As painful as it was to hit bottom, bouncing back up has been an amazing experience – because it is such a contrast. I’ve been able to reinvent myself and find a life for myself that is beyond my wildest dreams. And it’s a better life because it’s purposeful. I’ll never forget how I felt that day and what I did next. And if I ever do forget, I have a little jangling reminder on my left wrist.
In the book ‘About A Boy’, Nick Hornby talks about living his life by units. Each task is allocated units of time to make his day more manageable:
“I find the key is to think of a day as units of time, each unit consisting of no more than thirty minutes. Full hours can be a little bit intimidating and most activities take about half an hour. Taking a bath: one unit, watching Countdown: one unit, web-based research: two units, exercising: three units, having my hair carefully disheveled: four units.”
It’s a sensible way of thinking about each day. When my day looks too long, too busy, or even too empty to manage, I focus just on the bit I’m in right now, and work on getting through – or making the most of – the moment I’m in.
The past few weeks have been long and stressful, each one more difficult than the last – stress has a cumulative effect. So I started this week tired, and as it drew on, I was more so. I had a lot to do, a lot to think about, and not a lot of time.
When my life is like this (and thankfully it’s not usually) I remind myself that life is an endurance event. There are difficult bits and easier bits, and the trick is to get my head down and get through the tough bits the best I can. I try to slow down, stay focused on what’s in front of me, and keep my eye on the horizon. Everything ends eventually, the trick is to keep moving forward.
As Winston Churchill once said, “when you’re going through hell, keep going!”
After work last night, I met up with Gerard in Auckland city and we went for a walk around Britomart. I’d only heard of Britomart as a transport centre. And until recently, Gerard explained, the area was an urban ghetto – lots of empty and derelict buildings, a place nobody would want to go. Not so now. The area has recently undergone an amazing transformation.
Pop-up shops
I am truly impressed with this newly built shopping spot – it’s funky and attractive and makes really good use of space. It’s right in the middle of sky-scraper city, and yet the main square was roomy and light with grass and trees and warm sun and lots of people. The buildings are a mix of high-, mid- and low-rise and of old and new. The newest are a set of temporary shops that are described on the website as ‘pop-up shops’.
It inspired me. I imagine that the rubble that is Christchurch could grow into something like this. It was vibrant and alive, full of people, but still functional – a transport centre flowing with traffic.
We need this. We need to rebuild a functioning, functional inner city that people want to work and live in. Until now I really only had a vague picture of what was possible. Now I’ve seen the reality of what we can have. I cross my fingers that those who are rebuilding my place have seen what I saw.
Because standing amongst the glass and brick and cobbles and people, I felt real hope for the first time in almost a year.
The Secret Life of Bebe 