Although people are travelling more than ever, how many of us really know our own country? Often the grass is greener on the other side but that is not always the case.
Growing up in the north east of England I didn’t get to travel far, but the sea was only a half an hour train ride away. My head was stuck out of the train window and by the time we could smell the sea my hair was as tangled as a rat’s nest and my cheeks bright red.
The beach seemed to stretch forever. I had a bucket and spade and I built sandcastles decorated with shells and pebbles and had rides on the carousel to the tune of ‘Louisiana’.
After living abroad for many years I paid a visit to that small seaside town. Oh why do we have to grow up? Yes, the beach was just the same but way down at the end of it were factory chimneys belching black smoke. I was shocked when I was told they had always been there. I saw only sea and sand.
Another treat was a trip to Newcastle with its wonderful quayside market where strong men struggled to escape the iron chains that bound them; fortune tellers predicted anything you wanted for a shilling, and bags of broken biscuits (cookies) were sold from the back of a truck. The market is still there - no strong men or fortune tellers these days, unfortunately.
Now I live in London but my soul is in the north. Sometimes we see the world but don’t know our own country. I have decided to rectify that. I’m visiting a places that I heard about as a child but never visited: the mystery and beauty of Lindisfarne where Christianity was brought to England; Hadrian’s Wall, the last outpost of the Roman Empire; the pre-historic carvings in the Northumberland National Park, and much more. Some of the best walking in the UK is here.
