The Well Penn'd Post: June 2011

Day 2:
Friday was the most important day for me. This was admittedly the only reason I came to England to begin with. When we began planning this trip in August of 2010, I told my husband that if everything else failed, Chawton Cottage and a look around Austen country in Hampshire – a place I have long associated with pure unadulterated happiness – had to be on our list, with no exception. Since I was 12years old, I had dreamed of traveling to the south of England and walk through the countryside she loved so well. I would gaze at photos of Kent and say “Someday…someday…”

Well, Friday May 20th was the day that finally arrived when I got my wish at last. I had secured a guided Austen tour by way of Hidden Britain Tours, a magnificent gem to discover for any lover of Jane Austen or the Southern English landscape. So here I’ll be a very shameless advertiser and tell you to go to their website if you’re planning on traveling to London anytime soon and would like to have a unique tourism experience you won’t find with anyone else in the Hampshire area. Basingstoke, where we started out, is only 30 minutes from the city on the train from Waterloo station, so this is by no means an out-of-the-way trek. Your wonderful, one-of-kind tour guide Phil Howe, a native of the area, knows everything there is to know about anything relating to Austen’s hometown and then some. I personally can’t thank him and his touring services enough. It certainly made a life-long dream come true and I will never forget it! 8)

We made sure to wake up early enough to put ourselves together and get some breakfast in the hotel for fuel before heading out to Waterloo to catch the 9:05 to Basingstoke. Given that the temperature that day was planning on being about 67/68, I figured I would be fine in my regular trekking uniform of jeans. Then I realized “Hey, wait a minute. I can’t travel around Austen country in mere pantaloons! I should be in character, even in a fashionista, imaginary sense and wear a dress.” So I followed the plan I had set forth about a year ago (I plan ahead…far ahead…) and wore a comfortable float-y dress and a black sweater in case it got chilly (which it did). In another show of Austenite solidarity, I wore the amber cross my Mother gave me years ago, which her brother gave her when he came back from his service in the Marines back in the 60’s. Since the story was very similar to how Jane acquired her topaz cross from her own brother Charles, it brought me a little closer to my literary heroine.

Before setting out, we had a quick breakfast downstairs, which consisted of the usual eggs, bacon, toast, tea and pastry combination. As I sat facing the window to the street, I saw the doorman, again in his top hat, attempting in vain to hail a cab for a young, bewildered looking businessman clutching his briefcase. A few taxis drove by and didn’t slow down, which obviously irritated the doorman as he shook his head and flailed his arms about. Finally another one stopped, he exchanged some harsh words with the driver slammed the door shut and walked away while the driver shouted more insults at him from the window. It just wasn’t his day.

Next it was our turn. The poor doorman looked a bit disappointed, but alas, he was able to find a more compliant taxi, we rushed off to Waterloo, boarded the train and we were off. My iPod contributed to the trip, as I listened to all of the Austen film adaptation soundtracks and early 19th century dance music that I own to put me in the mood. With the sun gently beaming down on us, the effect was complete and perfect. When we arrived in Basingstoke, we were 15 minutes early for our tour departure, so I popped into a snack shoppe near the platform called "Pumpkin" (which tickled me), bought a small green tea to sip while we waited for 10:00am to roll around and we trotted down to the entrance downstairs. The day was proving to be a beautiful one. As we emerged from the station, I took a few shots of the sky (yes, only the sky!) to save for prosperity. In fact, I pretty much recorded the entire day on my camera for prosperity’s sake. I have a sharp memory, but still...

After a very short while, I spied our tour guide Phil carrying what looked like the same copy of a collection of Jane Austen’s Letters I have at home…aha, it was! We were joined by another lovely couple from Canada and so we all packed into Phil’s quite comfortable van and the tour began.

Now, Basingstoke is wonderfully idyllic, I thought. Every small town and country lane was, really. Phil provided us with maps of the area that Jane called home for the majority of her life and pointed out the route we were going to take, which was most helpful and a great keepsake for the day to take home. We spent the morning driving by the scenery that my dreams are made of and learning about the geography of the area. I was pleased to hear someone else refer to this landscape as “Austen Country” since I have always used this phrase to describe how significant it is for us literary gals; there’s Wordsworth Country and Bronte Country – but nothing beats Austen country.

We made several stops along the way as Phil gave an informative commentary on the families that lived in the area during Jane’s time. We focused mainly on what is known as the “Dancing Years” of Jane’s life and getting a better insight into the back story of what town life was like in her time was a treat. You wouldn’t find this kind of detail from a more commercialized tour (or as Phil himself put it, “Mr. Darcy soap-on-a-rope.” That summed up Austen Commerce quite well! :-) ). We stopped at the gates leading up to the grand homes she danced in: Ashe House, Manydown, Deane, among others. I was very familiar with all of these names and to finally come so close to them was a bit of thrill, I'd say. I think it shows in the 100+ photos I took, just on that day alone. :-)

We also stopped at the village church in Dummer, which claims my affections as being the first place of worship I visited in the UK. Jane may or may not have danced at the one of the homes nearby and possibly worshiped at the church as well. The musky smell of age as the doors swung open overwhelmed me and I silently reveled in it. It just felt so good to be there.

There were a few other stops along the way: we drove by a building where Jane may have collected her mail; Phil pointed out a few thatched-roof cottages and how they each have their own signature or design; I caught a glimpse of pink honeysuckle and a Victorian edifice or two. We also visited the St. Nicholas Church in Steventon, where Jane’s father George held post as Reverend. That was incredibly special for me personally: I picked up a few small blue, delicate flowers called “Speedwell” as a keepsake; however, I somehow lost that one and had to rely on another small bunch of Speedwells from the parish church near Manydown, if memory serves me correctly. One day I hope to go back and pick up a small flower or twig from the church’s grounds and my collection will be complete. Phil also explained the Yew tree legacy, particularly the very large one in front of the church. Then there was the crème de la crème – the site of Steventon Rectory, where Jane lived as a small child. It’s an open field now, dotted with a few trees, but one can imagine that nothing has been touched and the land left in the same pristine condition since the day she last rolled down the hill as a girl. The Lime tree that her eldest brother James planted is still there, quite tall and stately (…can trees be “stately”? Well, they are now…).

Before heading out to our final destination, Chawton Cottage, we stopped at The Fur and Feathers, a local pub in Herriard that was beyond delightful. I discovered Bottle Green Elderflower Sparkling Water there, which I began to miss so much after I got back home to the states that I ordered a 12 bottle case off the Internet. It brought the memory back. The baguettes and chips were a nice repast before setting out to the Mecca…I mean, museum. ;-)

By now, the sun was beginning to hide itself again and the grey light came back. Yet, the weak threat of rain couldn’t keep my spirits down. To be honest, it never rained during the entirety of our holiday. This was apparently the warmest May since 1910. I was thankful for the blessing of good weather. It was an omen, I’m certain!

Our last stop was Chawton Cottage. Finally getting to spend some time there was the icing on the cake for me. Every room has something that any Austen fan will go wild over, whether it’s her writing desk, which stands behind a short plexi-glass screen; a lock her of hair and some articles of her jewelry; Kate Winslet’s costume from Sense and Sensibility (/swoon!/) or just walking on the original floor boards upstairs. There’s something to tempt everyone. The house itself emanates a peaceful feeling, with the gardens outside included. I walked through the house at least three times, looking at the same objects again and again to burn them into my memory (and camera!). One of the staff members, a kindly older gentleman with bright blue eyes, eagerly asked me if I played the piano when I walked into the front parlor. While I took lessons when I was a young girl and can still play, I’ve sadly been out of practice. But I sat down and hit a few bars of “God Save the Queen” and would have eventually played some Beethoven, but alas, I had to move on.

After a stop in the small, but well-stocked gift shop, it was time to leave. I picked up a few things to take home to my Mother and a few bookmarks and small items for myself. I was actually quite pleased to see that the house and gardens were kept in a simple way, without the fuss of commercialization that Phil and spoken about earlier. There was enough to denote the meaning behind the house, but I was quite expecting the gift shop to be a lot larger and was thinking there may have been a lot more going on at the house that day (education programs, etc). However, I wasn’t in the least disappointed! I was happy to see how low key it all is, because it makes the experience infinitely more unique and special to those who can truly appreciate Jane and her novels. It was respectful and I liked that.

By the time we were on the train back to London, my heart was already sinking at the prospect of “Oh no, what if I never make it back here to this heaven?” Thankfully, there may be hope of that in the future, but deep down, I still miss it.

The day was perfect in every way: dependable weather, fine views of the countryside and very pleasant company, indeed: “…the pleasures of Friendship, of unreserved Conversation, of similarities of Taste and Opinions.” I found all of this in Hampshire. I know there are dozens of counties, villages and hamlets in England to vie for my affections, but I am afraid there will never be anything like the magic of Austen Country. That will continue to be unparalleled and the memory will remain safe in this literary gal’s heart as the loveliest place I’ve visited on God’s Green Earth. Overjoyed. That's a good word to describe it. :-)

Stay tuned for the next installment (The Tower! Bad Timing! Ducks! Long lines at Westminster Abbey!)

The Well Penn'd Post

Thursday, June 23, 2011

It's the Interlude!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

More of the London story coming soon...

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The London Trip - Day Two!

Friday, June 10, 2011