‘Twas the night before vacation and all through the airport,
there was little information and even less forethought.
The taxis were booked for the passenger pickups,
But the plans were all f… forgotten,
and would end in a cock up.’
It starts all too frequently with delays and layovers. These set the scene for the vacation (someone else’s vacation) in so many ways. Missed flights, whoever’s ‘fault’ it is, can cause chaos and sleepless nights.
In the morning at breakfast some had clearly come early, while others’ bodies were waiting for brain and biorhythm to catch up, even if they had physically arrived. An hour or two between spaced out arrivals gave a little breathing room, and eventually we had enough for the forming of a group, even if ‘storming’ and ‘norming’ wouldn’t come until the evening’s welcome drinks and dinner. 21 in the group, two arriving just under the wire, another two due next morning, but the signs were good that people would be getting on on this trip – signs that showed they were spot on within the next week as relationships were explored, alliances forged and characters identified. The forming stage is always fascinating to watch, as jet lag gives way and travellers of whatever age or generation start to relax. Expectations of first time travellers become tempered and refined, as they mix with the more seasoned in the group, peppering conversation with tips and anecdotes, drawing out the adventurous. Still the questions come thick and fast, especially from those who either don’t listen or don’t quite tune into regional accents and regular arrangements. What time…? Where do we…? Did you say …? Serial offenders identified and again borne out in the later stages of vacation.
Mobility is always a thorny issue, too on tour. Advertised as a medium to high level of exertion and activity, these tours still attract the over-ambitious, or those living in an active past, while experiencing a challenging present. But this group seemed to have a collective reality check and grounding so that those who realised their limited took steps (pun intended) to stay within their ability. Others were happy to race or stay ahead but always with an eye on the group – so much easier to ‘direct’ as tour director, without incident.
The tour, given as a grand tour of Great Britain, the British mainland, was set to touch on Scotland, England and Wales, finishing in capital London. Edinburgh took the usual form of sightseeing city then castle, and the next day to Stirling for another castle and the Kelpies – Andy Scott’s masterpiece in steel, beautifully melding the spirit of the mythic kelpie with the magnificent Clydesdales that drew canal boat and plough for so many years before the advent of train and tractor. Then Loch Lomond, uncovering its sapphire and emerald scenery, a stop to feed the highland cows of Kilmahog, to the delight of our travelling band, and finally returning to Edinburgh for some welcome free time in a city where you could lose yourself for weeks.
The grand tour moved on to the north of England after a Berwick border stop. To Bamburgh and its castle high on the cliffs and gazing back to Lindisfarne’s 7th century monastery, abbey, or to the more prominent castle. Lindisfarne is the settlement on holy island, where St Aidan is said to have brought Christianity from Iona off the west coast of Scotland to the Anglo Saxons of Northumbria, and where St Cuthbert had been buried, miraculously refusing to be corrupted even after death (his body was exhumed largely intact after a century in the ground). Lindisfarne has been a site of pilgrimage over the years for religious an musical reasons – thanks to one of the north east’s most successful bands with whom Lindisfarne shares its name. After lunch at Bamburgh, a few hours at Alnwick castle and gardens, with its Harry Potter connections but also still the home of the Dukes of Northumberland, and thence to Newcastle, Durham and York.
Medieval York with its Viking past and balancing religious and touristic presents was as impressive as ever, with nowhere near enough time to explore everything. Here our local guide was a dour Yorkshirewoman I’d worked with before. Having realised on my previous visit that this was no act I enjoyed watching her at work – enormously knowledgeable, humorous and engaging, I felt only moderately guilty for having prepared our travellers for her accent and affectations, which seemed, if anything, to enhance their enjoyment as she talked of the magnificent Monster (York Minster), commented on the relationship between Romans and vikings royals, commoners and church in the city’s history, bringing this all to life for our transatlantic cousins with a glint in her eye. Local guides are so important to the appreciation of what’s gone before and bringing it all up-to-date, making connections, drawing out stories that both entertain and illustrate. Usually they have a genuine affection and pride when talking about the people and places they are so familiar with, but this is often tempered with a reality check of how politics, economics and of course tourism affect the modern day destination that was once just someone’s home town.
International-Eyes.org 