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On the Road with Fast Eddie
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On the Road with Fast Eddie |
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March 26, 2000 I am writing you from the English countryside, in all its splendor! A week ago Friday I had a bus ride out of London which started out quite inauspiciously, breaking down only five blocks from Victoria Station where we'd initiated the trip. And it took three buses just to get us out of London! But a four-hour westerly ride eventually got us to Exeter in the county of Devon, and I was then "collected" and driven to the tiny village of Chagford where I now temporarily reside. Back in London my friend Anabel had learned that a couple named Martin and Helen needed help. Their house (manor?) has seven bedrooms and five bathrooms, plus a few other buildings on several acres of land overlooking the moors. "The 'moors'", you say, "Aren't they those black guys who invaded Spain a few hundred years ago?" Well, yeah…but those were different Moors. These moors are hills found in several parts of England; rolling hills, with a few trees and very few houses. They're brilliantly green, sometimes with glacially formed rock formations that impressively jut upwards, seemingly out of nowhere. The windows and terraces of "Eaglehurst" look out over this magnificent setting. Below the house lies a valley with a stream and ponds, including the seasonal geese and ducks. The hills themselves are criss-crossed with fence-lines of stone walls, often covered with hedgerows of heather and a heavy brush called gorse, sometimes as high as eight feet. The fields are dotted with white sheep and a couple of horses, and the large trees on the property are filled with birds of all sizes. And just below the house is a garden - a huge garden with stone paths running through it that has overgrown to where it's out of control. Martin and Helen have the responsibilities of a 20-month-old son named Lyndon and little time for gardening. So…enter Eddie, as a gardener is needed to transform what they have into what they want. I work four hours/day in exchange for room and board (Sundays off), but it's nothing like work to me. Yes I've weeded, trimmed, pruned, and hauled. I've built a compost holder. My back has complained a little, I had an unpleasant interaction with stinging nettles (enter witch hazel), and my hands have cuts and a couple of blisters. But I am truly in heaven here! When Lyndon went into the hospital this week for five days with Helen accompanying him (the medical system is very different here, trust me), I took over the cooking for myself, Martin and Lenka, a twenty-year-old au pair who recently arrived from Slovakia knowing just about five words of English. So guess who's also teaching her the Queen's English, American style? So I'm actually spending less time in the garden lately. When Helen and Lyndon came home today I was assigned all the dinners, so I guess you could say I passed the cooking test. Each day I walk the less than five minutes into town to shop for produce and other essentials. Chagford is a cross between Camelot and Carmel, California. I hate to say quaint and charming, but that's the way it is. It's also ancient. The church dates from 1261, and most all the houses are of stone construction, each of them having beautiful flower gardens. Surrounding the town square are the shops and pubs. I buy fresh organic vegetables, range-free eggs, milk, cheese and ice cream from the local dairy, and the local hardware store sells everything else - and I mean everything. The town is so magical, almost surreal. In addition, there's a strong sense of community with a lot of talented, creative and wealthy people. They paint, put on plays, perform music, and generally appear to have more than their fair share of leisure time. The people are reticent, but I've made some acquaintances, especially at a pub Martin took Lenka and me to that was three miles away out in the middle of some fields. It was called Northmoor Arms (pubs have names like that), was tiny and very packed. Seems as though it was dart league night. Yep, dart league. And they take it very seriously, these blokes, which is not to say that there aren't some suds being thrown down. After all, there are about eight kinds of ales, lagers, bitters and stouts to choose from. I had two pints of Broadside ale that night, and I can tell you that it's a lot tastier and more potent than a Bud-Lite! And, oh yeah: they actually do eat liver, onions and bacon, with boiled potatoes. There was a fireplace inside and the bathrooms were outside. This place was a classic! Last Sunday I did a nine-mile hike, covering a cross section of Devon. I walked along a creek, up some narrow roads (and I mean narrow: when cars meet, one has to back up to a wide spot for them to pass each other), through woods, and by both a B&B and a pub. At one point I arrived at the site of an Iron Age period castle, though all that was there was the foundation (just when was the Iron Age, anyway?). I walked by farms and other homesteads and across cow and sheep fields, as official trails give public access on private land and over stone bridges. I stopped at the pub and sucked down a Guinness while eating a sandwich I'd packed, soaking my feet in the stream. Today, Lenka and I went for a hike. After a mile we turned back after getting repeatedly pummeled by hailstones. Nice weather they've got here in March! Both Martin and Helen are teachers. Next to Eaglehurst is The Barefoot Barn, a facility they share with a neighboring couple who also teach. It's all wood, beautifully built with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the magnificent scenery, a spectacular setting for meditation retreats, yoga and Tai Chi classes, and other similar events. I meditate every day, sometimes on the terrace outside the house, sometime inside the Barn. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Zen master living in France, has designated Martin as a meditation teacher and this past weekend I was invited to join a dharma (Buddhist) teaching Friday night and all day Saturday. Some of those attending stayed at Eaglehurst for the weekend. Both Martin and Helen also teach at Sharpam, an hour drive south on the coast. Helen goes there once a week and I rode down with her to check it out. A few years ago, a multimillionaire donated 550 acres and several buildings for a school, which is also a live-in community for 10 students making a yearlong commitment to studying and practicing Buddhism. The director is Stephen Batchelor, author of Awakening in the West, as well as several other books. The setting is magnificent, overlooking the Dart River. There're flower gardens, lawns, and woods, plus a huge organic vegetable garden, green house, a dairy and small winery. Several people have inquired about my travel plans. How long will I stay in the UK? Where will I go next? Etc. I really don't have an itinerary, nor do I want to plan more than I absolutely need to. My motto is "freedom within necessity", which means that I want to leave as much freedom for myself as possible within whatever necessity exists. Since I'm currently in the UK and there's much of interest to me here, I may stay for several months. After all, my visa lasts until the end of August and I have the rest of England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Ireland to explore. I would also like to do some backpacking. Some other opportunities are possible for scenarios similar to what I have here. Or, I could be in Morocco next week. Who knows? At some point I do want to take a four-week intensive course for TEFL certification, which'll provide opportunities all over the world for me to teach English to non-English speaking people. Several people I know have enjoyed that work and there are many sites available for me to take those classes. It'll probably be in Europe, and right now Spain is likely, but I don't know where or when. Don't need to…not yet. I believe it was Oscar Wilde who said, "Britain and America are two countries divided by a common language." Here are a couple of illustrations that may alleviate potential embarrassment for you. While perusing a camping catalogue in London I noticed an item listed called a "bum bag". I commented to my friend Anabel that these looked identical to what were sold in the US as "fanny packs". After chuckling, she informed me that fanny in the UK refers to a very personal part of a woman's anatomy! Good to know? Imagine a guy asking you, "Do you know where I can get a some fags?" When that happened to me I fortunately knew by then that over here fags are cigarettes. Maybe also good to know? Some Websites with information about Devon: http://www.devon.directory.co.uk/ http://www.touruk.co.uk/devon/devon.htm http://www.devon-cc.gov.uk/ --Excellent informational site http://www.devon.directory.co.uk/devontowns/chagford/index.shtml --Info about Chagford http://www.chagford-parish.co.uk/ --More about Chagford |
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-------------Fast Eddie
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