Also, I wish I could locate my list of events, as that would really help me with this next leg of the journey. There's so much about which to write of England and my relatives, and I wish I had the list to help me make sense of all of it. Lists are a vague relic of my undergrad years, when I used to be kind of psycho-organized, even if I didn't have a planner. I find it amusing that I made the list in order to be organized, and I now can't find it.
Okay! So, we left off with the airport meeting of my relatives and the traveling Cellers, yes? Yes. As aforementioned, it was quite a relief to see Marion and James, and to see them happy that we had arrived. After expressing surprise that we had taken only one carry-on each--
--ah, yes. I had forgotten to mention that earlier. I only took one carry-on with me for the entire trip.
--we then drove back to Hassocks to Marion and James's house. I found this quite relaxing and entertaining (even though you Brits drive on the wrong side of the road, James), and it was nice to chat with Marion and James on the way. Upon entering the house, I was almost tackled by Skye, the family's large, fluffy, absolutely beautiful rescue dog. She reminded me so much of Poppet that I knew how to deal with her over-excited behavior, and she and I got along splendidly during our stay. It turned out that we were staying in Matthew's (their son's) bedroom, and he would be staying at Great Aunt Barbara's flat throughout the next few days.
Great Aunt Barbara features prominently in this story, but I shall have to save her introduction until a bit later in this post. Whoo, anticipation, whoo.
The next day, after breakfasting and having proper English tea (the most wonderful thing in the history of ever), Marion, James, Maryle, and I were on our way to London, which is roughly an hour away from Hassocks. The day was filled to the brim, and the highlights of the trip included the Globe Theatre, which sadly was off-season, and the Victoria and Albert museum. We actually took a guided tour through the Globe, as Marion and James had coupons that made entry relatively free. Our tour guide was an older woman with long, grey hair and a very "actorly" air about her. As another group entered the Globe, she whispered, "Possession's nine-tenth! Come on!" and rushed to the stage. My little Shakespearean heart was all a-flutter while touring the theatre, and I was a happy, parvo-less puppy (refer to the first post of the day).
"And though she be but little, she is fierce." -Will Shakez, my homieI also discovered this wonderful gem at the V&A museum:
FIRST FOLIO. FIRST. FOLIO.
You know, this was my second time in London (the first being back in 2003), and when I returned this second time, it felt like nothing had changed. I remembered certain areas, and it was refreshing to spot St. Paul's in the distance. I very much like London, but I was to discover that, no, it's not my favorite place in England (nor does it deserve to be). That title belongs to another place, which will be explained later (whoo, anticipation, whoo). After a very long day in the city, we trudged back to Hassocks for fish 'n chips and a restful evening with the rest of the family (including Katie and Mat).
It's hard to tell if the next day or the day after that was my favorite of the entire trip, and I may have to give in and say that both of them were. The next morning, everyone got ready to visit Great Aunt Barbara before heading off to Brighton for the day. Now, this was the part that I was really looking forward to, and allow me to explain why:
Great Aunt Barbara is my late grandmother Olive's sister. She is a full ten years younger than Grandma and remained in England when Grandma moved to the States to marry my grandfather, whom she had met while he was serving as an Army war photographer in London. Grandma passed away two years ago in Florida, and ever since then I had been wanting some form of closure to the parts of Grandma's history that I didn't know. When I knew for certain that I would be visiting my relatives in England this year, I had an increasing hope that meeting Great Aunt Barbara would help close the door on some things, even if nothing was seriously in need to clarification. Well, I'm happy to say that I did get closure, and much more.
Needless to say, I was a little apprehensive about meeting her. I knew that everything would be fine and that she would be a nice woman, but I didn't realize just how much she would remind me of Grandma, particularly since they had spent most of their lives living so far away from each other. Though we only chatted briefly on Saturday before the rest of us headed out to Brighton, I did notice mannerisms and bits of speech that achingly reminded me of Grandma. And though I was told that she was quite shy, which was the case, Great Aunt Barbara made me feel welcome and promptly told me things that she knew I was curious about. We managed to talk a lot more when I visited her Sunday (Marion had very considerately planned for me a solitary visit, as she had rehearsal and Maryle wanted to go back to London), and it was...well, it was great. Not only did I learn more facts about Grandma, but I also learned quite a bit about Barbara herself, along with her late husband, John, and their children. And though I know this post is going to be "gasp-I-need-air" long, I want to narrate one or two stories that she told me.
I had always been curious about how exactly Grandma and Grandpa met. I had known that Grandma had been part of the lookout during the Blitz and that both of them lived in London at that time. What I didn't know was their first meeting. Turns out, Grandma had been on a train to northern England to visit either her sister-in-law (Grandma's first husband had been killed in the war, though no one found his plane or his body) or her boyfriend, and she couldn't find a seat because the Army soldiers had occupied the train car. Grandpa, who noticed, told her that she could sit on his bag, which sparked a conversation and an eventual date--and things just went from there. But, Barbara had other little gems to share with me: how she always got up early to help with breakfast, though Grandma would always sleep through it; how Grandpa would bring them all sorts of goodies; and how Grandpa was the only person to call Barbara "Babs." Things like this--supposedly "everyday" things--fascinate me.
But what I found so interesting about Barbara, other than her personality in her own right, was the fact that she told me how lonely she felt when Grandma moved away to the States--how she had viewed Grandma as someone who took care of her, particularly considering the age difference. Barbara was simply left alone, particularly when my great-grandmother also moved to the U.S., but she never implied or looked like she was resentful of this fact. Grandma and Barbara kept in touch and seemed to maintain a good relationship when all was said and done, but it was interesting, to me, to see how matter-of-fact Barbara seemed while talking about it. Barbara went on with her life, as did Grandma, and the two of them were successful in their own right because of it. I never knew some of the things that Barbara told me about herself, and I'm incredibly glad that I do now. Though she may not think so, she, along with the rest of that family, is a fascinating person.
I know this overlaps, but let's go back to Saturday. After our visit with Great Aunt Barbara, the family, Maryle, and I traveled to Brighton, which is only five minutes away by train. Maryle and I hadn't planned on going to Brighton during our stay, but as Marion and James suggested that we take a day trip there, we readily consented. And, I'm glad we did. Brighton is certainly an "artsy" town, as many art students live there and attend the university. In this vein, it reminded me a bit of Savannah, GA, but Brighton makes its own name by displaying its offbeat novelty shops, the great Pavilion, and its rocky beach. We spent the day browsing through the shops, spending lots of time talking, walking along the beach, being goofy, and stepping into a shop for hot chocolate and coffee when the weather took a nasty turn.
Yes, we're definitely related.
Another shot because IT IS THAT BEAUTIFUL.
It's hard to tell if the next day or the day after that was my favorite of the entire trip, and I may have to give in and say that both of them were. The next morning, everyone got ready to visit Great Aunt Barbara before heading off to Brighton for the day. Now, this was the part that I was really looking forward to, and allow me to explain why:
Great Aunt Barbara is my late grandmother Olive's sister. She is a full ten years younger than Grandma and remained in England when Grandma moved to the States to marry my grandfather, whom she had met while he was serving as an Army war photographer in London. Grandma passed away two years ago in Florida, and ever since then I had been wanting some form of closure to the parts of Grandma's history that I didn't know. When I knew for certain that I would be visiting my relatives in England this year, I had an increasing hope that meeting Great Aunt Barbara would help close the door on some things, even if nothing was seriously in need to clarification. Well, I'm happy to say that I did get closure, and much more.
Yup, she's pretty awesome.
Needless to say, I was a little apprehensive about meeting her. I knew that everything would be fine and that she would be a nice woman, but I didn't realize just how much she would remind me of Grandma, particularly since they had spent most of their lives living so far away from each other. Though we only chatted briefly on Saturday before the rest of us headed out to Brighton, I did notice mannerisms and bits of speech that achingly reminded me of Grandma. And though I was told that she was quite shy, which was the case, Great Aunt Barbara made me feel welcome and promptly told me things that she knew I was curious about. We managed to talk a lot more when I visited her Sunday (Marion had very considerately planned for me a solitary visit, as she had rehearsal and Maryle wanted to go back to London), and it was...well, it was great. Not only did I learn more facts about Grandma, but I also learned quite a bit about Barbara herself, along with her late husband, John, and their children. And though I know this post is going to be "gasp-I-need-air" long, I want to narrate one or two stories that she told me.
I had always been curious about how exactly Grandma and Grandpa met. I had known that Grandma had been part of the lookout during the Blitz and that both of them lived in London at that time. What I didn't know was their first meeting. Turns out, Grandma had been on a train to northern England to visit either her sister-in-law (Grandma's first husband had been killed in the war, though no one found his plane or his body) or her boyfriend, and she couldn't find a seat because the Army soldiers had occupied the train car. Grandpa, who noticed, told her that she could sit on his bag, which sparked a conversation and an eventual date--and things just went from there. But, Barbara had other little gems to share with me: how she always got up early to help with breakfast, though Grandma would always sleep through it; how Grandpa would bring them all sorts of goodies; and how Grandpa was the only person to call Barbara "Babs." Things like this--supposedly "everyday" things--fascinate me.
But what I found so interesting about Barbara, other than her personality in her own right, was the fact that she told me how lonely she felt when Grandma moved away to the States--how she had viewed Grandma as someone who took care of her, particularly considering the age difference. Barbara was simply left alone, particularly when my great-grandmother also moved to the U.S., but she never implied or looked like she was resentful of this fact. Grandma and Barbara kept in touch and seemed to maintain a good relationship when all was said and done, but it was interesting, to me, to see how matter-of-fact Barbara seemed while talking about it. Barbara went on with her life, as did Grandma, and the two of them were successful in their own right because of it. I never knew some of the things that Barbara told me about herself, and I'm incredibly glad that I do now. Though she may not think so, she, along with the rest of that family, is a fascinating person.
I know this overlaps, but let's go back to Saturday. After our visit with Great Aunt Barbara, the family, Maryle, and I traveled to Brighton, which is only five minutes away by train. Maryle and I hadn't planned on going to Brighton during our stay, but as Marion and James suggested that we take a day trip there, we readily consented. And, I'm glad we did. Brighton is certainly an "artsy" town, as many art students live there and attend the university. In this vein, it reminded me a bit of Savannah, GA, but Brighton makes its own name by displaying its offbeat novelty shops, the great Pavilion, and its rocky beach. We spent the day browsing through the shops, spending lots of time talking, walking along the beach, being goofy, and stepping into a shop for hot chocolate and coffee when the weather took a nasty turn.
Yes, we're definitely related.When we returned home, Maryle and I kept Marion company (er, distracted her) while she made dinner, playing random opera videos from YouTube and just talking about opera. Marion is an opera singer, and it was really quite neat talking to her about the different operas she's been in (Susanna in Marriage of Figaro, I kid you not). And dinner with the family was a treat, as Mat and Katie opened up a bit more, displaying their awesomeness, and just having a nice time with people I care about.
Sunday was a relaxing day, as Maryle headed off to London by herself, and Marion, the kids, and I went back to Brighton for some more shopping. As we were waiting for Mat back at the car, an elderly man struck up a brief conversation with me, and I had forgotten how nice it really is to have conversations like that (as not many Germans do this). Afterward, Marion dropped me off at Barbara's, and after a few hours chatting with her, all of us reunited for an evening at Devil's Dike, located on the Downs. I had a real Sunday lamb roast, which was delicious. Seriously, I do believe it was the best dish of the trip. A lovely end to a great day.
Monday saw the end of our stay in England, as our plane to Lisbon took off around 1:00 in the afternoon. But, that's not to say that we didn't do anything before then. I actually got my hair trimmed in Hassocks (Oh, happy day!) by a junior named Barnaby, and I must say that Barnaby did a good job. Afterward, we said a quick goodbye to Great Aunt Barbara, which was sad, as I wanted to spend more time with her, along with the rest of the family. But, Marion and James had more things planned; we went to Clayton Church, a small, ancient church where my Great Uncle John had been buried, and we went atop the Downs to get a good view of what was below. I will tell you a fact: if I were to spend every day of the rest of my life walking the Downs, I would be content. It is my favorite place in England.
It is that beautiful.Sunday was a relaxing day, as Maryle headed off to London by herself, and Marion, the kids, and I went back to Brighton for some more shopping. As we were waiting for Mat back at the car, an elderly man struck up a brief conversation with me, and I had forgotten how nice it really is to have conversations like that (as not many Germans do this). Afterward, Marion dropped me off at Barbara's, and after a few hours chatting with her, all of us reunited for an evening at Devil's Dike, located on the Downs. I had a real Sunday lamb roast, which was delicious. Seriously, I do believe it was the best dish of the trip. A lovely end to a great day.
Monday saw the end of our stay in England, as our plane to Lisbon took off around 1:00 in the afternoon. But, that's not to say that we didn't do anything before then. I actually got my hair trimmed in Hassocks (Oh, happy day!) by a junior named Barnaby, and I must say that Barnaby did a good job. Afterward, we said a quick goodbye to Great Aunt Barbara, which was sad, as I wanted to spend more time with her, along with the rest of the family. But, Marion and James had more things planned; we went to Clayton Church, a small, ancient church where my Great Uncle John had been buried, and we went atop the Downs to get a good view of what was below. I will tell you a fact: if I were to spend every day of the rest of my life walking the Downs, I would be content. It is my favorite place in England.
Another shot because IT IS THAT BEAUTIFUL.After the Downs, we did have to pack up and leave. It was a tearful goodbye, to be honest, because I simply wasn't ready to leave this family and their wonderful hospitality. I had felt so at ease and at home in such a short amount of time, and I hadn't really felt that way before. Maybe it was because I was so excited to meet everyone, but what really surprised me is how everyone lived up to--and exceeded--my expectations. I had gone into the trip thinking that they were going to be awesome, and I came out of it with my mind blown at just how awesome they were. So, to Marion, James, Mat, Katie, Skye, and Great Aunt Barbara: Thank you for making me feel like a part of the family. Maryle and I had a wonderful time.
...Okay, see why I've been delaying updating?! Look at everything that I have to recount! Blargh, grawr, and other mean sounds. Next up: Lisbon.
...Okay, see why I've been delaying updating?! Look at everything that I have to recount! Blargh, grawr, and other mean sounds. Next up: Lisbon.
What a great blog post. I love reading your blog so much, you know. You should keep it up once you come back, especially when you've left us again for grad school. *grumbles*stupidgradschool*grumbles. This post was really heartwarming, and it made me miss you even more. Also, it's nice to see proof that a German Jen-bot hasn't really taken over.
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks, Haley. I really appreciate the fact that you enjoy reading my blog. It makes me feel like I'm doing something right, and know that you're one of the foremost friends I miss.
ReplyDeleteI have been toying with the idea of maintaining this one, or at least creating a separate one on Blogger that will detail life back Stateside. And perhaps we can even maintain a photo blog together?
I really loved this post. Mom saw me reading it and asked what I was reading, I told her about your Grandma & Grandpa's first meeting and got a little teary-eyed while I was telling it.
ReplyDeleteOooooo. Photo blog, too fun! I've been thinking about blogging myself once I get back to Huntsville. Nothing special - just life. I'm not sure though, I've always been a journaler, and I don't want to take away from that.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dana; that means a lot. This was one of the most difficult posts to write, as I wanted it to convey the specialness of the experience. I think I did it justice, particularly from reading your and Haley's posts.
ReplyDeleteHaley, I think you should start a blog. I like blogs about life, since people have different perspectives on common events, making those said events rather interesting. And I know that you have a writer's flare, so your posts would be very, very entertaining. If you don't start by the time I get back, we can talk about it.
Cool. I really am thinking about it. Coming back to Huntsville will mark the first time I've been truly continuously happy in the last two years. And, Phillip and I will be moving in together and all sorts of fun stuff will be happening. I think it'd be worth blogging. If I do start one before you get back, I may hit you up to talk about it anyway, since I'll probably need advice.
ReplyDeleteBy all means, send me an email anytime. I love hearing from you.
ReplyDelete