Big Hi to Everyone.
Things are going smoothly here as we hope they are in your neck of the woods.
We have now relocated from Europe to the UK.
It was a big day at the office when we left France heading for our next house sitting destination in Northumbria - Britain. It was Paris, London, Newcastle Upon Tyne then onto Kirkwhelpington which will be “home” for the next 8 weeks. This has got to be the only village in the UK without a pub we reckon - which is probably a good thing. After meeting the dogs Murphy & Skye who we will be caring for, the house induction and dinner at a nearby pub down the road a few miles we crashed out.
Phil had her temporary passport, issued in Milan after the theft of her real one, confiscated when we got to Heathrow, so she is now stuck in the UK until such times as the UK Govt. issue her with a new one.
The spacious two storey house we are looking after is wonderful. It is situated on half an acer in beautiful English country side. recently renovated it has a garden room which floor to apexed ceiling windows on three sides, it has all of the high end mod cons, 4 person spa bath with colour changing mood lighting and views of the night sky from the skylight window, all rooms have ensuite, underfloor heating etc which is not hard to take at all. Added to our deal is a later model VW Passatt with buttons that do all sorts of things my ute doesn’t, including seat warmers. WOW! We pay the extra insurance, but that is a whole lot cheaper than hiring a car for 2 months. We are very grateful for the generosity shown to us by the house owners.
Next day we took the house owners to the airport for their holiday in the USA then we were on our own to sort ourselves out and get established. 1st stop though was the Scottish Border about 30kms north to allow Phil a grand return to her homeland. At the border, a Piper in full regalia piped madam (and every other tourist) across the border and she snuffled a tear or two while gazing up at the big sign and the Scottish flag. Ah - the patriotism!
The 1st thing that seemed strange to us was that everyone spoke English - albeit with a Geordie accent if you can call that English. Actually it is a great accent. Neither English nor Scottish, but - well Geordie. After 10 weeks of listening to three European languages, it came as a bit of a surprise initially.
The week was spent exploring the village and the surrounding country side initially then with a few forays a bit further afield taking the dogs for walks. It takes a bit of getting used to walking through paddocks with walking or bridal paths cutting straight across them, through backyards and through farm infrastructure. We were always expecting a cry of “Piss off - this is private property”. But no - this is standard procedure. From an Australians’s perspective, it was strange to have dogs allowed almost everywhere, national parks, walking and bridle paths, and even welcomed in the pubs and restaurants.
On only our 2nd day alone, one of the dogs, who shall remain nameless, paid an eccentric neighbour from the old vicarage a visit and murdered 3 of her chickens. It came home with feathers hanging out of it’s mouth awfully proud of itself. OH DEAR! We slunk over full of remorse for our tardiness in doggy care, promised to we would pay more attention to doggy care detail and offered compensation for her loss, which she accepted graciously and invited us over for a glass of sherry. Nice start guys!
Wandering about the rolling countryside with paddocks, moors and wooded forests was lovely. We were fortunate enough to experience our second start to Spring. Watching Spring arrive in Switzerland was spectacular with the trees coming into blossom then that saturated green taking hold. Here it was in Northumbria happening again. The green is just such a green that explodes with vibrancy. Very beautiful.
I was fortunate to catch up with Chris Halstead a past work colleague whom I shared adventures with in the National Parks and in Papua New Guinea. We dined out at a small pub eating haggis and drinking Black Sheep Ales as one does while reminiscing. I’m catching up with another ex work colleague soon who also worked in the Department and volunteered up in PNG. It’s a small world!
Another trip took us to the north eastern coast where castles were the main theme. Plenty of them and BIG ones at that. We were fortunate to get the tides right, so were able to cross the causeway to Lindisfarne - The Holy Isle where a monastery was established in 650’s and was happily trashed by the Vikings about 150 years later. The history of the area is fascinating if your into that sort of thing.
The down side was that it was the start of the May Bank Holiday long weekend and the place was inundated. Including the return of the Vikings. They do it in a bit more style these days though. No more sailing or rowing a long boat from Scandinavia. They catch a long bus. Well - two long buses to be exact. But they did restrain themselves from “rapine and pillage” as they did back in the days when Vikings were REAL Vikings. Instead of the locals running away in fear of being hideously chopped up and praying for “deliverance from the wrath of the Northmen", they now welcome these latter day Vikings - and anyone else, with open arms to plunder THEIR pockets in the tourist traps filled with Holy Isle trinkets, wines, plastic Viking swords & etc. How things have changed.
Another day saw us tramping up hills and across moors to prehistoric hill forts and burial cairns. There were no special signs, information and etc. Just a walkway leading to sites that were a mere 4,000 years old. The brooding, craggy hills and moors gave the place an almost primeval feel to it while the rainstorms that swept across us on the high ground enhanced that feeling.
Pristine Swiss or Italian alpine mountain scenery it was not. However, this place had something far different. A timeless, ancient landscape that emits a feeling that is hard to describe. The imagination can run wild if one tries to describe it, but no words can properly elaborate on the feeling that the place exuded. It was something I had never quite felt before, but it was there! Phil described it has Whuthering Heights Country and said it needed little imagination to see Cathy running across the moors to her Heathcliff.
We were going to go and try to find some ancient prehistoric rock art nearby that further adds to the mystery of this place, but the weather was against us, so another trip is planned to explore more.
An evening trip took Volker out to Hadrian’s Wall to check out this remarkable feat of engineering designed to keep out the rabble from up north who were heavily into tats, face painting and fighting for fun it, in the 1st Century AD. It didn’t work. Phil got across it! But - it is a pretty good legacy left by the Romans for walkers like me to watch the sun go down and contemplate the life of some poor legionnaire (probably dragged screaming from sunny Italy wondering what it was he had done so wrong as to be sent here) on the very edge and the last bastion of the Roman Empire.
I was fortunate to get up there pretty late and the tourists had all left to have a pint at nearby pubs or settle into camp grounds in close proximity to the wall. Being up here alone with a lazy chilling wind and the only sunset I had seen to date due to the weather seemed pretty special. There is no real grandeur associated with the wall, but it is the thought of the remoteness of this place at the time it was built. Even today, the rocky crags upon which the wall was built, overlooking the moors to the north still have that feeling of remoteness if you let your mind drift.
And that about wraps up the 1st week.
Best wishes to you all.
Stay safe and have fun.
Cheers
Philomena & Volker
