We've been here 2.5 years

This could be a bumper blog - probably not the longest but probably close.  There's lots of reasons like we've been doing lots of interesting things and finding out lots of history and I haven't managed to sit down at the computer for a while cos I have been doing that quite a lot at work and need a break when I get home and Harry and Mike (from Northampton) have been organising a trip for Barbara and me for New Year and we've been here 2.5 years on 19 November (that was Thursday) and so have lots of things to contemplate.  Besides that in the last 3 months 402 people have at least got to the front page of the blog so I guess I will just keep writing. We went to the Colston Hall to listen to the RAF band play.  That was after having quite a nice dinner at an Indian/Nepalese restaurant called Kathmandu (just down the road from the NZ/Aussie clothing shop with the same name). We really enjoyed that foot stomping music and sat in the front row - which initially we thought wasn't the best row to sit in because the stage is higher than the seats and we couldn't see the whole band.  But after a while I got used to seeing black shoes (some patent leather, others with patent leather toes, others actually polished by a conscientitious band player) tapping and swaying (some tap one foot, others two, others swing a leg it depends a little bit on what instrument they are playing).  We listened to some great soloists but the one that will stick in my mind is the xylophonist - who was also the drummer - he played it so well with lots of concentration and enthusiasm.  I began to pose the question to myself, and later to Harry on the walk to the car, 'Does a musician choose his instrument or the instrument choose the musician?' cos if you passed the musician in the street you wouldn't automatically know he was great at playing the xylophone.  It's a similar question to 'Did you choose your cat or did it choose you?'  I can remember when we went to find a cat at the RSPCA in Wellington.  Sharon and Michael sat on the floor of this rather large cage of cats (they were little at the time) and most of the cats continued to do their thing but one very large tabby cat with huge paws came up and nuzzled Sharon and we took him home.  We called him Lollipop but that is another story.  Anyway I digress...

After some research I think musicians are chosen by their instrument and there are some people out there that concur with me (or I with them).  An instrument has a personality - some are harder to learn, some squeak when played by a beginnier, others reward the player for their perseverance.  If you are keen to learn quickly then trumpets and cornets are great, but if you are one of those diligent ones that take the time to practice and perfect the sax could be the answer.  Some people just don't have the patience for frustrating weeks of squawking (or perhaps those who cohabit with the musician do not) while others have that much admired quality 'patience'.  Apparently the squawking, squeaking, squealing and scratching can be quite demotivating to learners and listeners. So matching the personality of the player with the personality of the instrument sounds really important to me. With those musings we can now go to see a band and think now you are a guitarist because you have great perseverance to go through the pain of developing hardened fingers, and you are a saxophonist because you like to practice and perfect and don't mind the awful sounds of a 'mistake'.  We could just go on for ever.

On the Friday we drove up to just north of Birmingham and then Saturday morning the rest of the way to Lancaster.  We weren't quite sure what we would strike, traffic wise and weather wise, as there has been some disastrous flooding in the Lake District just north of Lancaster - we were planning a day trip to what all people who live here say 'is lovely' but we didn't as the '1 in a 1000 year flood' had just happened and more rain fell in the 24 hours than ever before playing havoc with the roads, bridges, houses and shops.  It is sad because some of the towns like Cockermouth had suffered from floods a few years ago and there had been lots of money spent to fortify them against a '1 in 100 year flood'.  There are heroic stories of people being rescued and their dogs and cats and the sad story of a policeman drowning after a bridge was washed away (this was a big concrete bridge).  We heard from the receptionist at our hotel that workers at the Travelodge in Cumbria had been stranded for 3 days - I guess they at least had a bed to sleep in but that probably wasn't much of a consolation!!  The clean up is now beginning but there must be lots of concern up there as lots of the houses are terraced granite and pretty old to stand up to that sort of flood.  So, we looked over to the hills of Cumbria from Morecambe hoping that the raining would lighten up over there giving some respite to the residents and knowing we would go to the Lake District another time - perhaps in summer we'll visit what is already officially known as 'the wettest place in Britain'.  Morecambe is a seaside village a bit like lots of others.  Not a lot to see except the walk along the promenade and on the beach was just what we needed after the long trip in the car.  The tide was just coming in so there was the sea lapping up to mud flats with the reeds providing a little fence around each boat.  Morecambe is home to Eric Morecambe (of Morecambe and Wise fame), but the town was not named after his family - it was the other way round. We also drove through Heysham "home to some charming 17th Century cottages and Barns" and famous for its non-alcoholic nettle beer (which we didn't try).  But just over the hill from this little village were two rather large number nuclear power stations - they've been generating nuclear power for more than 25 years - kind of spoilt the 17th century village somehow.

 And then on to Lancaster - we visited Williamson Park once a stone quarry - but a great way to clean up the environment once the quarrying had been done.  Williamson was a linoleum manufacturer who gave the Park (or the quarry not sure) to Lancaster.  On the top of the park is the Ashton Memorial (another memorial built for someone's wife)which we climbed to as it was getting quite dark (it was only 4.00 - gates closed at dusk but we worked out we could climb over a garden to get out if we left the car outside).  We just missed climbing the steps to the top - but we continue to forget the as the nights draw in everything closes down.   We also wandered around Lancaster Castle which over looks the city as most castles do.  This one is now a low security prison but we were able to wander around some of the earlier parts of the castle including the magnificent court rooms (only magnificent if you weren't being tried I guess), as well as being told all about the family shields -one of the best collections in England we were told -you can tell what each family did from their shield - now to pass the time while listening attentively to the guide I wondered what would be on my shield - I can have four different pictures at the most and so I thought I could have on my shield a kiwi, silver fern, two children and a beach with hills in the background.  Maybe I should design one to hang on a castle wall somewhere (yeah right).  We wandered through the 12th century keep, through the Witches' Tower built 200 hundred years later, a  Gatehouse, cell block and also the place they hung those declared guilty. It was interesting but also a cruel reminder of how barbaric our ancestors were - if they could have only shared their wealth around many people would not have needed to take the risk and steal a loaf of bread to feed their families.

The next day we were off to the Wedgwood factory.  Wedgewood is the grandfather of Charles and Emma Darwin so the family tree is beginning to get pieced together for us.  Quite a brilliant man (it seems to run in the family) he created his pottery factory as well as taking an active role in trying to ban slavery. Like his grandson a few decades later he liked experiments and he soon created the first pottery factory.  He did lots of scientific experiments in the name of pottery and it is thought he revolutionized pottery and china making. We wandered through a factory where a few employees sat and painted, or made figurines and were told that Wedgewood is bone china (silly us - we thought that meant high quality and fragile!!).  No its because it is made out of bone - the more crushed bone there is the stronger the china and Wedgewood is 51% bone (originally from Argentinian farms but since the Falkland War now comes from Ireland).  I did wonder what vegeterians would think of eating off bone china - and I must admit I don't think I'll ever view a piece of china quite the same again.  I am pleased to say that most of the people we have told this story didn't know either!! His pottery was well known, with royalty from lots of European countries ordering huge dinner sets (100 piece settings), and some even had a different country scene or house on each setting.  Quite an undertaking to feed the wealthy in those days.  Wedgwood was also a major driver of the creation of the Trent and Mersey Canal - the main reason - to take his china wares to the Liverpool Ports in a  more sedate manner than a horse and cart across country lanes (china is tough but not quite that tough).  Besides his creative streak he was also an astute business man and many attribute modern marketing (eg direct mail, money-back guarantees, traveling salesmen, self-service, free delivery, buy one get one free, and illustrated catalogues) to him.  I can see why the business did well. But over the years, and probably for a number of reasons in the company's 250th year the company went into liquidation - it is £400 million in debt - in this day perhaps the product may just be a bit over priced (though hand made does seem to be another word for expensive).  We saw a gorgeous honey pot which we would have bought (even though we don't like honey) but it was a mere £250.  In recent years the company had nearly 8000 workers but one employee said there were now only a few hundred.  They join other quite significant companies in the history of England like Woolworths, Hardy Amies the Tailors, Whittard of Chelsea tea and coffee merchants and Royal Worcester Ceramics.

And then as the evening again drew in we pulled up at the carpark at Cannock Chase - 'An Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty' - better known as AONB.  There are 47 of these in the UK and they are defined as "a precious landscape whose distinctive character and natural beauty are so outstanding that it is in the nation's interest to safeguard them". We've a few AONBs' over here and their prime purpose is 'conservation' for future generations. As we wandered around Cannock Chase I did wonder if 'An area of outstanding natural beauty' was another name for 'a place to walk your dog', but thinking about it anywhere in England where you can walk without seeing a building or a house is quite a luxury and certainly worth looking after for the future generations - and what's more the dogs do enjoy it.  And in Cannock Chase is a very special place - we almost missed it.  When we were sitting in the car having a cuppa a young man came up and asked us if we knew how to find the cemetery - which we didn't then - but it reminded us that we had read about it the night before.  So, with a help of a map, and after a number of wrong turnings and evasion of deer wandering nonchantly across the roads we found it.  So, here is some more history...
In 1959 the UK and Germany made an agreement about the future care of the graves of German nationals who lost their lives in the United Kingdom during the two World Wars. They agreed that there would be a central cemetery in the United Kingdom of all graves which were not situated in cemeteries and plots of Commonwealth war graves. So, approximately 5000 graves of German and Austrian servicemen and civilian internees were bought to their final resting place in the new cemetery established at Cannock Chase (only about 5 can not be named). But we found it hard to believe that this cemetery had links to the brave soldiers of kiwiland.  During the first World War the New Zealand Rifle Brigade set up camp in the area beside a 1000 bed prisoner-of-war hospital.  The land that the camp and the hospital stood on is now the cemetery.
There are about 97 Commonwealth graves and most of them New Zealanders.  It was pretty bleak in Stafford and you can imagine the New Zealand camp suffered greatly during their time there.  In 1918 there was a serious influenza epidemic at the end of June but only a handful of men died.  It was not so a few months later, when only a few days from the end of the war many more died - very sad.  We did not see Freda's Grave.  It is a lovely story of a dalmation dog, who must have been loved by the brigadiers.  Her collar and lead are kept in Waioru military museum.  The stories of how she became friends of the brigade is a bit hazy - either she was found in Cannock Chase, or another story is that she was adopted in France and brought back to England with them.  There are stories though that she comforted many a wounded soldier in the battlefields.  A sombre way to end another wintry weekend in England.

During the weekend the All Blacks won again and we thought about our 2 and a half years in England.  When we totted up the number of countries we have been to it came to 21 and we gave up trying to count how many planes we have got on and off, cities we've walked around, musicals and shows we have been too.  Though, with the blog if ever we get bored we can go through and work out a huge number of statistics.  But I'm not going to.  I was saying to Mike the other day how I miss everyone so much and he said  "I know you miss us and we miss you, but you'd regret coming back before you  have done everything.  Besides I get quite a kick out of telling people my Mum is in England on her OE".