Philip’s oriiginal plan for the day was to drive from where we’re staying in Duffield to Birmingham and look at the houses his Bryant grandparents lived in before they migrated to Australia in 1923. Our host, Keith showed him on Google map search how to get there and where the houses were. Typical small terrace houses of the times. They don’t look like they’re changed much since then either.

But Philip is tired. And he decided that looking at the houses on the internet was all he really wanted to do. What was the point of driving all that way to take a photo of a house that he’s already seen on the internet? I think the physical experience of being there does have impact. And that it’s not the same as just looking at a photo. But he didn’t think so.

So we crossed Birmingham off the list. And just drove straight to Newcastle-under-Lyme. In the Midlands. The pottery towns. Near Stoke-on-Trent. It looks on the map to me that Newcastle-under-Lyne is an outer suburb of Stoke. But that is not to understand the area at all. They are fiercely independent and would never want to be included. According to David who’s lived in the area all his life.

We visited Alison and David. Fourth of fifth cousins of Philip’s living there. In a very English terrace house with the long narrow garden out the back. Philip had never met them before. And apparently we were quite a surprise to them. They were expecting an elderly Baptist minister couple!

We sat outside in the sunshine in their backyard as we got to know each other. David is a retired chemistry teacher, and Alison works as a library assistant. And then a wonderful lunch in their house. Connecting with them, not only by blood, but by interests and foci in life.

After lunch, Alison took Philip and I to a nearby Aged Care to see her father Harold. Philip has met him before. But Harold who is 96 and has slight dementia didn’t really know Philip. There was a short church service for the residents while we were there, and we enjoyed being part of that. Old hymns that they knew. Music is very powerful for touching the deep places and recesses of the mind, memory and personality.

On the recommendation of our host Keith, we took a detour back to Duffield to see Dovedale. But we didn’t really know what Dovedale was. A park, a river, a walk, a valley? It turns out its all those things. GPS got very confused and sent us off. And we ended up in a farmyard with big sheds of farm machinery and hay bales. On top of the green rolling hills of the Derbyshire Dales. It smelt very much like a working farm! But not what we were looking for!

 

So we came up with Plan B. Turned off confused GPS, and followed some signposts instead. Down narrow country roads and small villages. Up and down green hills and valleys. To a little brook running through a very narrow valley between high, steep hills.

A carpark where you had to pay to get in. A caravan selling ice-creams. Holidaymakers and their big dogs walking and gamboling around. Children splashing and playing in the cold, shallow stream. Trees sometimes overhanging the brook. Sheep nearby feeding and climbing up the steep, steep hills.

We went for a short stroll along the river bank. Over on the stepping stones. A beautiful spot in the Derbyshire Dales.

After another great meal on the patio wtih Keith and Deb, Philip went with Keith to one of the cricket pitches he prepares for all the summer matches. Philip came back amazed. This fantastic cricket pitch is in the middle of “nowhere”. On top of a hill, in the middle of the countryside with spectacular views all around. This is wonderful England!