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On the Road with Fast Eddie |
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| April 10, 2000 It was four weeks ago this past Friday that I arrived here in Devon in southwest England. Although when I got here I had no idea how long I'd stay, I'd have never predicted that it would be six weeks before I'd eventually move on. It appears that at the end of the month I'll return to London for a short while, and then journey on to Wales to an area near the coast that I'm told is extraordinarily beautiful. I'm still at Helen's and Martin's wonderful home. To keep my work for room/board agreement I've been gardening, cooking, helping their au pair (Lenka) learn English and doing a few inside jobs when it's inclement outside, which is quite often lately. By staying here this long, one great benefit is that I have become somewhat part of the community here. Since I walk into Chagford each day to shop for the evening's dinner that I prepare, I regularly visit with the shopkeepers and others whom I meet. There is a familiarity and trust that's developed. I've also become a frequent visitor at the local pubs at night (solely for research purposes, of course), and have accepted a few invitations to residents' homes…proof I'm finally being accepted. The end result is not only the various experiences, but I now feel as though I have gotten more than just a glimpse into the culture, personality and psyche of a village and its people. That cannot be done any other way that I know of, other than having the time to spend in a community, as if it were home. Of course, the downside is that it will probably be a little tougher for me to leave as I have become quite fond of this town and many of the people here... especially those who I've shared this house with. One of them is Jeremy Thres, who I regard as the "quintessential gentle soul". He's been a boarder here for a few months, though he has just bought some land nearby and will be moving there soon. Jeremy is 35 and is heavily involved with "eco-psychology", which can be defined as viewing the preservation and healing of the planet as being inseparable with our own personal healing and spiritual evolution. He's started the non-profit organization Regenco, which does environmental education, and also leads Wilderness Quests, which "takes participants into nature to find within themselves their own healing vision". These "vision quests" are part of many traditional cultures, including Native American. Jeremy has traveled extensively around the world and is also an expert on the history, culture and flora and fauna of this area. Recently, Jeremy took Lenka (remember the Slovakian au pair?) and myself to one of his favorite spots along the Devon coast. She and I had no idea what we were to experience! After an hour drive, we stopped at a seaside pub for fish and chips and ale, and then drove a short distance where we then walked nearly another hour. We went past fields with crops growing and sheep grazing, stone fences adorned with wild flowers, past a pure white light house, until we then came to a small cove surrounded on three sides by dramatic cliffs. We half walked, half slid down a steep, switchback trail, hopping boulders near the bottom, and then we were there. The cove is covered by ocean at high tide, but while we were there it was our own private sandy beach amidst jagged rock walls, draped with limpet shells, moss and brightly colored lichen, and yes even a waterfall nearby! I dropped to my knees in awe and rolled in the sand. Lenka and I stripped off our shoes and socks, rolled up our pant legs, and raced into the frigid surf, screaming in exhilaration! Jeremy free climbed, while Lenka sculpted our names in the sand and I played my harmonica. We gathered driftwood and made a fire to warm our feet and toast our lunch, while we sang and laughed... and I cried with utter joy at the privilege of just being there. This past weekend I made an hour-and-a-half bus trip to the seacoast resort town of Torquay, along a coast that's been dubbed the English Riveria. Martin has a friend there who owns the Ellington Court Hotel and he invited me to be his guest for two nights. Strategically perched on a hill overlooking Torbay, I could sit and eat or read above the sloping flower gardens while looking down onto the beach. I walked along several miles of coastline trails, had lunch at a pub with locals watching an apparently important soccer game on telly. At night I went to a pub where a six-man skittle team down from Bristol insisted I join them playing some silly card game, where the eventual winner's pot was 75 pence (a little more than a buck). They were all quite pissed ('smashed', remember?). Skittle is evidently a pub game resembling bowling that's only played in a certain part of the UK. Ray Peters, the owner of the Ellington, gave me some tips on how to find jobs crewing on sailboats, as he once lived on his own 42-foot sailboat for four years in the Mediterranean. That was just a part of much experience and advice he shared with me from his life of traveling and living in many, many parts of the world. Now, he and his new Russian wife Helena are selling their hotel after running it for three years to go play some more. Go Ray and Helena! Let's talk about pubs, since they are an essential part of English culture, and are in fact an institution in virtually every community. Please take note that I have done my research thoroughly, with all due diligence. Your reporter has visited the four Chagford pubs, as well as six others in nearby villages, and their offerings carefully and generously sampled, sometimes aided by the generosity and insistence of other local researchers. English pubs are not at all like American bars. First of all, they are THE local gathering place. Children and dogs are welcome and are often there. The faces and names of owners and clients become familiar soon. In some small villages, the town meetings are held there, or kids gather after school if they have no place else to go. There are usually those very British looking hand painted plates, and often photos of regulars on the wall, fireplaces blazing, and people eating typical British cuisine, like kidney pie. Some of the buildings I've been in go back to the 15th century when they were coach stations and inns, so often rooms are available upstairs and that same atmosphere of warm hospitality prevails. And they have wonderful names like: Ring o Bells, Three Crowns, Bulley's, Angler's Rest, The Globe, Northmore Arms, Drew Arms, etc. At times, the pubs are aligned with certain distributors, so the selection may vary completely, but there is always a vast variety of absolutely delicious cool, but not ice-cold, brews. You order either a pint or a half, though bottles, glasses of wine, cider soda, lemonade, etc. can also be purchased. But drinking pints is the real deal! "Last call" is at 11 PM by law and the drinking age is 18 (not strictly enforced, for sure). On two recent evenings I've been treated to incredible music in local pubs. On Thursday, a remarkable event occurred. It seems that many years ago, a fellow by the name of John Swayne designed an English pipe, which is a smaller-scale version of bagpipes. John is now 60 and he came to Chagford with several premier devotees (including my friend Katie) joining him at Three Crowns. Some came from nearly 300 miles away (which in the UK is very far!) to be part what was happening. At the center of the pub several horn players gathered, joined by a pair of accordionists, two violinists, a bass player, and a guy playing a hurdy gurdy. Yes, a hurdy gurdy! (Anybody remember that Donovan song from the late 60's?) For nearly three hours we sat transfixed, as this magical rain of sound filled the pub. I wish I could describe it, but suffice to say it was unlike anything you or I've ever otherwise heard. And when I strolled home later with Jeremy, we sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and agreeing we had witnessed something rare and special, a cultural overload that was still ringing in my ears the next day. The next night, Katie's partner Dev was performing with his jazz group at another pub about six miles from here. Dev is an exceptional pianist and plays and records in London and all over the UK. He'll be moving into Eaglehurst (where I now live) and will convert the carriage house into a studio. His group has played together for four years and will soon release their second CD. They're fusion jazz oriented and it was another evening of excellent music, though very much in contrast to the prior night. When I arrived in the UK I did not expect to spend as much time in pubs as I have. In London I only went to a pub once in two weeks. But in the smaller communities they are more critical to entertainment and to social interaction. Fortunately, despite all the pints I've enjoyed, all the up and down hiking I've done through the moors and along the coast, as well as the gardening, has enabled me to still lose weight and get back into pretty good shape. Shall we discuss British telly - the good news and the bad news of it, from my perspective. We'll start with the bad news: first, there are only five stations, even in a city the size of London. There are dreadful imitations of already dreadful American game shows, sitcoms and Jenny Jones style sleazy exposes. And, with the exception of the Masters, the only sports coverage I've seen is that weird Euro stuff that bores me to tears (I already miss baseball.... go Yankees!). The good news: two of the stations are BBC, which has absolutely no commercials (the way movies should always be watched), outstanding news coverage, and the best documentaries one can see anywhere. Despite the British reputation for being so proper, censorship is very liberal. And, on prime time they have gardening programs.... really good ones! Really! I guess it is a nice compliment to get emails asking me, "How come you have not sent out a report lately? I've been looking forward to the next one and it's been awhile." I guess it is also dangerous to establish a pattern, because that creates expectations. I strive to send out personal messages whenever I can, but it's much more difficult here. Unlike the States where a monthly fee buys unlimited usage, time here on the internet is logged and charged, much like a long distance phone call, and so stopping by a library, for instance, and signing up for a free hour or more has not been possible here. I'm dependent on the convenience and generosity of my hosts to communicate with you all, and thankfully those I have stayed with have been terrific, but limitations do and will exist. Naturally, traveling like this does have some downsides. The freedom is especially wonderful, but it's not as though I don't miss certain people, or that I don't get somewhat lonely at times. I do, but that also happened to me at times while living in the States. It's nice knowing that I'm in the hearts and minds of people whom I care about. You're all most definitely in mine, regardless of how much I'm enjoying my adventure... which I most certainly am! 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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