Ancient Cities -- Bedrock

Thinking of ancient cities and my lack of personal experience in the real world, took me back to childhood and my love for the cartooned world of the Flintstones. They lived in the suburban area of a stone age city called Bedrock. I would have moved in with them, anytime. I was fascinated by their household appliances and gadgets which amused me more than the storylines. I would be spellbound for the entire twenty minutes or so of each episode. This wasn’t confined to childhood. In my early 30s, I would get up at some crazy time to watch an early morning episode before travelling out of town to work. I lived alone, so no raised eyebrows or questions. Somewhere, I have a DVD. I’m shocked that my grandchildren are not the least bit interested.

I planned to visit the Holy Land in my mid-twenties. It was an organised trip, like a pilgrimage, with a group of people from the church I belonged to at the time. I looked forward to setting foot in the ancient cities and places I had heard about and grown up with from the Bible stories of Sunday School and my Christian upbringing. It couldn’t happen. My father had always been supportive and encouraging, taking an interest in my endeavours, but he was clearly unhappy about this. There was conflict in the Middle East. Israel had invaded Lebanon and the thought of me going into potential danger ‘on holiday’ was something he really didn’t want. I couldn’t let him worry himself sick, so I didn’t go.

My travels abroad haven’t taken me anywhere ancient, more modern history, like being in Virginia, USA and learning about the American Civil War. I was staying with my family who live there. Their home was close to an area where battles had taken place, which ignited my interest. One of my cousins had studied The Battle of Bull Run and we spent time in Manassas, another battlefield and home to a museum. Not an ancient city, though.

Born in Manchester, lived in Lancaster, visited Colchester and many Roman cities in the UK. Stonehenge, not a city, but ancient, as is Calanais standing stones on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. Not far from there is the village or township of Garenin, which is a collection of black houses, restored as an historical monument. No one lives there now, but some of the buildings are habitable and open for paying guests to stay for the experience. I haven’t stayed overnight, but I wouldn’t mind.

I’ve chosen Lemn Sissay’s poem about Canterbury, which I think qualifies as an ancient city.

Cantuarian

I ha’ant the time to rest at night
I hold the moon and satellite
I am the librarian of light
For Canterbury for all its might

And I roll beneath I roll
And I hold I hold I hold
And I swirl and I swirl
And waves uncurl

This Cantuarian
This latitudinarian
Carried the stones
Of the Trinitarian

In the river of the broken sword
(The failure of the knighted hoard)
In that winter – sheath unseen –
I washed it clean I washed it clean

Time and river entwine a ripple of twine
A shiver of rhyme this rhythm of mine
I carry the story out to the sea
The west wind addresses me

By bank and by bed, red and deeper
The city head the secret keeper
I bathed the uncivilised scream
I washed it clean I washed it clean

And I roll beneath I roll
And I hold I hold I hold
And I swirl and I swirl
And waves uncurl

I am the librarian of light
For Canterbury for all its might.

                               Lemn Sissay, OBE FRSL

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Lodgings - Impromptu Days Out

Some years ago, I’d guess about forty, I was on my own in Lancaster where a work commitment had gone awry. Instead of packing up and heading home, I decided to spend time looking around, enjoying the sunshine. Lancaster is the first place I properly remember from my childhood with memories I hold close to my heart including the birth of my sister. Our family, at this point just my parents and a three year old me, moved from our Manchester pub to one in Lancaster. I went to nursery then infant school there. At some point, my maternal grandparents left their pub in Sale to move in with my aunt and uncle, also running a pub in Lancaster. Pure nostalgia, but I had hours to please myself.

Leaving the workplace, I headed towards the city centre. Aimlessly wandering, but comfortable amongst the old stone buildings that felt familiar to me, I realised I was on Church Street and started to look out for The Nag’s Head, a special place of my extended family. It remained unchanged so much that I could almost hear the sounds of the Saturday morning street market which always woke me up early when I’d stayed overnight. Someone was handing out leaflets promoting historical walks and places of interest. The Judges’ Lodgings was open to the public and close by. I went to look round.

From Lancashire County Council,

“Nestled below Lancaster Castle, the Judges' Lodgings dates back nearly 400 years on a site that has been at the centre of Lancaster's history for nearly 2000 years. The current house was built around 1625 by Thomas Covell, Keeper of the Castle and famous for locking up the Pendle Witches during the infamous Lancashire Witch Trials. From 1826 the house became a lodgings for the travelling 'Red Judges' of the Assizes Courts. Dressed in their scarlet robes, the Judges decided the fate of murderers, forgers and highwaymen at Lancaster Castle. Today the house is home to beautiful Georgian furniture by Gillows of Lancaster, elegant period rooms and the popular Museum of Childhood.”

It was more fascinating than I expected. Travelling judges were treated like royalty, the lodgings were like a mini palace.

Still nostalgic, I ate my bought lunch in Williamson Park where I used to play after school and on Sunday afternoon family gatherings. I already knew that the pub which had been my home, The County Hotel, was demolished and some soulless building had taken its place near the railway station.

My unexpected Lancaster trail concluded with a visit to Auntie Vi. Not a real Auntie but a family friend from the old days we’d always kept in touch with – she used to look after me a lot when I was little. We drank tea and reminisced in her cosy back living room, where I used to play. Time flies.

Time passed to when I was working at our local infant school. I was attached to Year One. We were having a school trip to The Judges’ Lodgings in Lancaster. I didn’t need asking twice. It was a fabulous visit. The children learnt a lot about bygone times and the ‘Upstairs, Downstairs’ lifestyle of the people who used to live or stay in the building. They dressed up as staff or gentry and had lots of fun trying to spin tops and work other old-fashioned toys. I loved every minute.

Apologies for no poem, I had a few lines in my head but nothing came to fruition. Everything has been hectic since I returned from my extended travels yesterday. And tonight I had to go to a football match.

 

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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