The Trip 2010 DAY 11

8/6/2019 The Trip 2010 DAY 11

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This is the eleventh blog of our trip around the globe.

The Trip 2010

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Around The World in 47 Days

By

Frank Riley

Today, our plans are just to drive around and see what we see. I also had a long-

standing mission – 15 years or so in the making – about which I’ll tell you later in this

blog.

Another marvellous breakfast saw us well for the day. You have to give the

Everglades a try if you’re ever around this way; they are truly great and so friendly.

It’s a pleasure just being there. I believe its proper name is Best Western Everglades

Park Hotel and it is situated in Derby Road, Widnes. And, no, I’m still not getting

paid for this commercial!

We drove around Widnes at a more leisurely pace and I was able to point out to

Sophie the various landmarks – pubs – of my youth. She found it quite amusing that

most of the places I pointed out were pubs. But in those days, a hundred years or so,

when I was young, that was how life was; that was how people interacted with each

other. It was like the village meeting place in other countries, but with the added

attraction of a few pints and a sing-song.

I’m not sure if that is the same these days, but back then it was a nice way to meet and

greet people. English pubs were special places, with lots of atmosphere, quirky

characters, indifferent food and great beer. I have not seen the like in any other

country I been in, except when I occasionally come across an ‘English Pub’ replica insome foreign land.

Irish pubs have, or at least had, a similar atmosphere, with just a little more drinking

and a few more good donnybrooks (fisticuffs) to round out the night. The Scottish and

Welsh pubs were also admirable places to go, back in the day – as we say now. It

seemed then that the United Kingdom and Ireland had cornered the market of

wonderful pubs to go to. I didn’t really get to test the theory of whether the same

applies now, but perhaps on another trip, I can probably squeeze that into my busy

schedule…Ahem!

8/6/2019 The Trip 2010 DAY 11


So, now to gird my loins and approach the house where my quest awaited me. About

fifteen years ago, maybe less, Sophie and I had overseas guests, a relative of mine and

his wife, no less, on their fourth visit to Australia. They had stayed with us and with

my brother and his wife on each of these other occasions and here they were again,

like the proverbial bad pennies. The wife of this relative, I must say, is a delightful

person and I feel sorry for her being married to this bigot, but there it is.

It was Christmas time and we were sitting on our balcony singing carols. Sadly, my

relative, who shall remain anonymous, was getting drunker by the minute and

eventually blew his stack when Sophie and I refused to laugh at a couple of his racists

jokes. Anyway, long story short, he stormed off to bed and the next morning stormed

out of the house- well I actually drove him, gladly, to the train station, but not before

the fool approached me as I was sitting down on our balcony with Sophie. He placed

his two hands on the back of a chair, looking for all the world like a silver-back

gorilla and said: “We’re goin’ now, an’ we won’t be coming back. Best say no more,

else we’ll come to blows.”

I jumped up and approached him. He stiffened in alarm. I put out my hand and shook

his. “I’ll drive you to the station,” I said, and they were in fact the vary last words I

was to utter to this utter ingrate.

In his haste, he left behind an expensive pair of shoes and his socks. We have not seen

him from that day to this, but I kept the shoes and socks, promising myself that one

day I would return them in person – but without his knowing how they got there.

Now, that day had arrived and I was ready to fulfil my quest.

Sophie had at first refused to have anything to do my scheme; she hates upsetting

anyone. Whereas I have no problem at all with such qualms when it is deserved.

However, as we neared his house, Sophie began to get caught up in the moment and

agreed to make a video of me as I delivered the shoes.

It was all hugger-mugger, cloak and dagger stuff, as I walked around the corner of the

street where we had parked the car and came into sight of the target house across the

other road into which this street led.

A car was parked outside the house, which meant that they were probably at home;

that made it all the more exciting for me. With perfect nonchalance, I crossed theroad, carrying the plastic bag which contained the shoes and socks. I watched the

curtains to see if any movement from the house was evident – not a stir. I reached the

gate leaned over and deposited the bag out of site of passers-by and turned back for

the return journey, expecting at any moment to hear a cry of recognition, or anything

for that matter. But no sound came. I was home free and undetected and Sophie had

caught it all in living colour.

We both walked round the corner out of sight and giggled like a couple of kids on a

prank and got back in the car. The temperature outside had dropped considerably, so,

reluctantly, this spy came in from the cold.

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We went over to Runcorn again, across the River Mersey, via the Jubilee Bridge.

Once again, I pointed out the landmarks – pubs – to Sophie, who, by this stage was

beginning to think I was an alcoholic, I’m sure. But I resemble that remark…hic! I’m

not as think as you drunk I am.

We did of course stop and rest at a few parks and enjoyed the scenery. That’s one of the great things about England: even though it is a tiny island, compared to Australia,

one doesn’t have to travel very far outside a town to come upon lush hills, green fields

and lovely woods and forests. And what greenery! So rich and so deep! It seemed to

me at times that I was looking at a painting when we were in the countryside. ‘T’was

luvly, by gum.

Later, we went to visit the ancient ruins of Norton Priory. The heritage-listed Priory,

or what remains of it after good old King Henry the Eighth had his goons wreck and

ransack it, is a marvellous place to visit. It is steeped in history, naturally, since the

abbey complex was built around the 12th century, with an 18th-century country house

the only building left standing. This building acts as a museum and refreshmentcentre, with facilities for classes and groups of avid historians. The models inside the

museum give a unique view of life in between the 12th and 16th centuries, with a grand

model of the whole complex in minute detail being the showpiece.

Outside the museum, the ruins of the rest of the complex can be clearly seen, but are

now mere skeletons of their former glory; indeed, they are hardly more than outlines

in the original brickwork, with less than half-a-metre showing above ground. Yet,

having first examined the model inside the museum, one can well imagine how grand

this place once was.

Further on, we walked through the magnificent gardens and woods, along leaf-strewn

paths, across small bridges over streams and took in the breath-taking beauty of it all.

We saw countless birds, whose identities escaped me, since my ornithological skills,

such as they are, relate only to Australian avifauna. We saw squirrels gambolling

around the grounds in what must have been for them a veritable Heaven. Indeed, it

was a place of absolute tranquillity and it was easy to imagine the monks of a time

long ago walking these very same paths, heads bowed in prayer.

One of the things I like to do when I visit an ancient place is to touch the stonework,

or brickwork, and feel the history of its inhabitants in my hands. I usually would get

Sophie to do likewise and we both would pause and wonder at the times past. Whereour hands were placed, hands of long ago had also been placed and it never failed to

seep deep into our being the gift of being in such a place. For a brief moment we

would be transported back in time in our imagination and experience an almost real

sense of what took place here.

Before we left this awe-inspiring place, we stopped by the cafeteria and refreshed

ourselves with tea and coffee – and a cake or two for Sophie. She does like her little

snacks; whereas I, whose powers of self-control are legendary, resisted all attempts to

get me to eat. This self-control of mine, however, is not so legendary when it comes

to the offer of a quick pint or two. But no-one’s perfect, what? Or, as my friend, Neil,

would say: “No-one’s inflammable!”

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We left the Priory and headed back across the river to pick up Neil and Linda. We

were going next to visit the ancient Speke Hall, a grand manor house that was reputed

to be haunted. Sophie was all agog: she loves that sort of thing. I remember going to

visit it about a hundred years ago, in another life, when I was on a school outing and I

remember even then, looking around every corner of every room for the mysterious

ghost.

We collected Neil and Linda and I was determined not to get lost. We did. After many

twists and turns and not a few silent curses we eventually found our way. It was

closed! Bah, humbug!

As a poor second choice, we went to a giant shopping complex (I hate shopping) and

spent a few hours there. It was a far cry from an ancient manor house with a friendly

ghost thrown in for entertainment. I was not amused. Sophie was. She has a black belt

in shopping and can spot a bargain about two hours before it has been posted up. That,

my friends, is an awesome skill.

After a dreary (for me) two hours or so, we dropped off Neil and Linda and went back

to our hotel to freshen up for the evening. Tonight, we were going to see an ex-fiancée

of mine and her husband. Sophie was quite sanguine about it all and indeed was

looking forward to meeting her.

Earlier in the day, on the way to the Priory in fact, I had spotted the pub, The Union

Hotel, where we were to meet, and, to Sophie’s astonishment, I did not get lost on the

way. I was very pleased with myself.

We met Linda (that was her name) and her husband, Bob, and their children, all of

whom are quite grown up and are a delight. We had a lovely old time of it and

swapped a few stories from our past and all in all it was a happy occasion.

So, back across the river again, across the Jubilee Bridge, all lit up and stunning, as

we made our way back to the hotel. It had been a great day, with just one cloud, a

shopping cloud, and I was content. I even managed to get back to the hotel without

getting lost. I was becoming an old hand at this driving thing.

Well, then, what’s on for tomorrow?

If you would like to read all the blogs to date, visit my web site at:

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The Trip 2010 DAY 11