July
The voyage began yesterday. I will speak of that day in the past then. I will write slowly to allow my handwriting the possibility of being legible (at least that is the plan and already I fail).
Where to begin? The moment the alarm sounded I jumped from the bed to shut it off and face the fact that at four in the morning I was getting ready for a trip to England. Sleepily, yet quickly, I emerged from my room and splashed cold water on my face. From then on my mind ticked off lists. Dress, get the car, load the luggage. The feeling that I was forgetting something interesting or important was nagging at the back of my brain while I checked windows were closed and to dispel it I ran my checklists through my mind over and over again. But that, despite the effort, never seems enough.
At some moment, and so it was yesterday, I just had to decide it was good enough. I locked the doors and forced myself to believe I had brought more than enough items to enjoy and survive the holiday (the fact that the car was full, should have helped me in that belief) and that I had done all to safekeep the house during my absence. (As I write this I wonder if I REALLY locked the house.)
Then, unbelievably, I rode off into the morning. A friend was by my side and we were both wondering aloud. We were actually on our way. We were going to England.
Was this going to be an adventure, a discovery tour, an escapist holiday, a moment of peace or a working holiday? We were and are not sure. We kept our expectations in check, now that we were really on our way.
When this idea planted itself into our heads we were more excited about it than yesterday. We did not even know if we would actually do it. Now we were on our way discussing work, the world , our worlds and all that we saw on the way.
On our way through continental Europe it often rained. We had no hope it would be any different in England. but while we crossed the channel and I fell asleep in a chair, the weather changed. The clouds, grey in the sky, lightened up to soft white. The sea glistened, as sunlight paired with drops of water to dance and we started hoping.
“Drive on the Left”, this silent mantra echoed through my head and I remembered other crossings, 20 years ago, harbour workers waving emphatically and huge signs painted on the road that repeated this mantra pleadingly. Okay, I will.
Walk where Kings and Queens walked at Dover Castle @Francesca
We headed for Dover Castle to take a break from the travelling. Spectacular views greeted us from its hilltop perch, across the cliffs over the sea, along the rolling hillsides back into the green slopes which grace this countrys´ inland. The light had changed. It seemed as if we could touch the clouds, which raced across the skies and the blue was so much brighter, the sky so close and we had time, while we travelled back through time with a castle that has seen the rise and fall and battles of kings and their people. We stepped across the flagstones like so many before us, smelled the cold damp air, the walls that have stood for hundreds of years and I speak in the present instead of the past because I see it now.
Time stands still when you look through a window set into walls that are as thick as two of my arms are long. I see what Kings and Queens, officers and soldiers, maids and tourists have seen, the merciless sea on a good day, hear the relentless wind pulling at walls, bending the grass, howling through cracks making itself heard more than felt as long as you remain in the safe arms of thick walls.
We make an appointment with Time as we descend into tunnels inside the cliffs where people, soldiers, armies have hidden, planned, worked, lived for a hundred years. We hear dialogues, noises, smell food and other undefinable things that accompanied life down tunnels. We hear about hero worship and heroic efforts, a cats life in the tunnels. We are led on, in a labyrinth and I ask myself so much effort, near genius, determination in times of dire straits. Do we feel it in our bones? And I think, “What if heroism happened during peace time?”
If we all pulled at the same rope how much further we would get, but nowhere there seems to be true peace.
We wander back out into fresh air, sunshine. This is England. Life seems so simple when you are on holiday. We talk about what is, what could be, because time has stood still for us long enough to reflect, so maybe, maybe we change what will be.
I am a bit lost about what to write. I want to write about everything I see, feel, hear, smell and touch. We are at the beginning and suddenly there seems not enough time. We are so tired, when we leave Dover. I drive down familiar roads. Seeing them soothes me. I find my way, which almost makes it feel like home. Sometimes even I need that.
@Francesca
More about Dover castle here:
http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/server/show/nav.14571