Slàinte mhath E-Book

Monika von Borthwick

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 251

Beschreibung

Cheers! Enjoy the Scottish whisky! What is the weather really like in Scotland? A motorhome trip with the MoWuKnuffels to our English-speaking Neighbors The German title of this travel diary is Sechzig mit links. Mit links is German for "easy, simply or without problems". As there is no equivalent in English, the title has been freely adapted from another Scottish specialty. Cheers! The author has just celebrated her sixtieth birthday. Does one make this step into a new phase of life so easily? Is it perhaps the left hand English way of driving that is meant? Or does the number 60 refer to the British speed limit in miles? You can find out if you follow in the footsteps of the MoWuKnuffels, who set their sights on their English speaking neighbors on this journey. In her usual amusing and critical manner, the author again describes personal impressions of the country and its people in her latest diary.

Leseprobe

Cheers! Enjoy the Scottish whisky!

What is the weather really like in Scotland?

A motorhome trip with the MoWuKnuffels

to our English-speaking Neighbors

Slàinte mhath!

The German title of this travel diary is Sechzig mit links. Mit links is German for “easy, simply or without problems.” As there is no equivalent in English, the title has been freely adapted from another Scottish specialty. Cheers!

The author has just celebrated her sixtieth birthday. Does one make this step into a new phase of life so easily? Is it perhaps the left-hand English way of driving that is meant? Or does the number 60 refer to the British speed limit in miles?

You can find out if you follow in the footsteps of the MoWuKnuffels, who set their sights on their English-speaking neighbors on this journey. In her usual amusing and critical manner, the author again describes personal impressions of the country and its people in her latest diary.

Monika von Borthwick belongs to the older generation and lives in culturally rich Upper Bavaria. In addition to her professional work, she looked after bus travelers as a tour guide in the European region. Even then, she wrote down her experiences of the country and its people in more or less detail.

After the death of her husband, she shifted to traveling alone and explored numerous areas in Europe and North America on her own with her newly acquired motorhome and her two dogs. In the process, she discovered a love of storytelling and sent detailed reports home by email. These documents form the basis for her personal stories from each host country.

A motorhome trip with the MoWuKnuffels to our English-speaking neighbors

Preliminary thoughts

Why our English-speaking neighbors this summer? Was that not too close for us after having traveled to America and Mexico three times in a row? Wuschel would be ten years old this year and I did not wanto subject her to the stress of flying any more. She is such an extraordinarily reliable and sensitive dog that I wanted to be considerate. Being seven years old, Knuffi would still do anything, even if her soul flutters sometimes. After my accident in Toronto, my walking ability was still not one hundred percent restored. So I chose less strenuous destinations in Europe.

The planned large-scale project including Greece, Turkey and Israel was canceled because of the political events and the warlike conflagration. One does not necessarily have to put one's existence at risk.

So why not travel to the neighboring islands and meet the people openly, even if they are more left-wing (traffic-wise)? Driving will certainly become a new challenge for me. Spring in the mild south of the country, summer in Scotland and perhaps Ireland - and when everyone goes away, we can make ourselves comfortable at home again.

With these notes, the MoWuKnuffels now invite everyone to follow their journey and sniff a little subjective country knowledge on the part of the author. Enjoy!

Omar Khayyam, Persian mathematician, Philosopher and poet:

Life is a journey.

And those who travel live twice.

Slàinte mhath!

Table of contents

A little statistics at the beginning

Approach

England's South to Nottingham

Birmingham over the Scottish border (Hadrian's Wall)

Edinburgh and through the hinterland to the west coast

First island experiences (Arran, Kintyr Peninsula, Islay)

Inner and Outer Hebrides

Some statistics to start with:

Travel duration: April to June inclusive / 3 months.

7,000 km one way without ferry connections to the islands

850 € total ferry costs

1,200 liters of diesel fuel consumption

1700 € fuel costs

1200 € overnight costs

Approach

April 5th Left is not so hard!

We did it and crossed the Channel from Dunkirk (France) to Dover in two hours at 10:00 am continental time. We drove the roughly nine hundred kilometers from Bavaria to the French Channel coast in three stages.

Two weeks earlier, I had awakened my German Wuschelmobil from its slumber. However, it resented the long break of one and a half years and avenged my long absence with all kinds of repair demands: an expenditure that I would have spent more wisely elsewhere!

I discussed the strict British regulations for bringing dogs with me with the vet and thought that nothing could go wrong. But I was wrong! At the check-in for the ferry, it was discovered that some data was missing from the pet passport and so I had to turn around in Dunkirk and see a French vet. He gave me his new stamp without much hesitation and collected fifteen euros. I will charge it to my vet when I return!

Thank goodness it was easy to postpone the crossing without incurring any costs, so instead of at 8 am we started two hours later. We would only lose an hour due to the time difference. The journey was a bit choppy and rainy. Dover's white chalk cliffs had turned grey when we arrived and the largest fortress castle in Europe was only visible through a veil of rain.

At the moment, however, I had other things to worry about. I had to adapt to left-hand traffic. That was only possible with a lot of concentration and thought. In the process, I felt like I was back in my first driving lessons and kept saying out loud to myself: Left, left, left, and slow! As long as I was in the flow of traffic it went fine, but when turning and on roundabouts I kept whispering the rules to myself and trying to think backwards. Hopefully this would become ingrained over the next few days and weeks! My GPS was worth its weight in gold in this situation and always prepared me for a new route in good time. With map reading and left-hand traffic, I probably would have been absolutely overwhelmed and incapable to find my first overnight stop.

Since it is virtually impossible for a camper van to stay overnight freely in the UK, the only option were campsites. Pitches like the ones we have in Europe are not available or have been eliminated. There are a myriad of campsites, with varying levels of comfort. I had already scouted out cheap options at home for the first few days and ended up today west of Hythe, after a skillful turnaround maneuver, in the so-called "New Beach Holiday Park".

Horrible by my standards! Hundreds of mobile homes, close together, with little room between you and your neighbor. The area for the touring guests (the travelling people) was a bit more spacious and greener - even more so as there were hardly any campers on the road at this time of the day. I didn't want to complain and was secretly missing the beautiful state parks in the USA. There was no view of the sea, because the coastal section was separated from the shore road by a high quay wall with only a few access points. It was possible to walk on the concrete wall, but the sea was too ungracious that first evening to give us a pleasing view. It was an advantage, however, that my two four-footed ladies did not get to drink seawater and I was therefore spared (for the time being) a case of the runs.

I spent the rest of the day resting, reorganizing the load and taking short walks. Wuschel and Knuffi slowly got used to the new situation and came to terms with their berths. Two metres shorter and twenty centimeters narrower meant a considerable loss of freedom of movement in the interior, if we compared it to our American camper van. It would work out this time too, though - after all, we had already spent half a year together in Portugal (see “Winter Wings”!). This was in Winter 2009 before our last trip to America.

The coming day was a (no driving) rest day for me and a further acclimatization to left-hand traffic. The public bus to Hythe left almost every twenty minutes from the front door. Why should I go through the stress of maneuvering through narrow streets for two pounds? Plus the dogs had their well-deserved rest at home.

April 6th Narrow-gauge railway

Bright sunshine when I woke up today! It was darn early, as my two ladies were in front of my bed in continental time - and that was half past six local time! A little sleepy, I took care of all the morning necessities and devoted myself to planning the day.

As intended, I wanted to visit Hythe, but my spontaneity threw a spanner in the works. Actually, in this weather I could take the world's smallest public narrow-gauge railway twenty kilometers south, through the so-called Romney Marsh. This is a vast flatland that lies below sea level. The 20,000 hectare area would strictly speaking be a nature reserve. Nevertheless, the military has managed to appropriate an extensive training area for itself and the nuclear lobby has succeeded in building a brutal nuclear power station in Dungeness. So much for practicing environmental protection!

But before I was allowed to get on the small train, an actual means of public transport and not just a tourist attraction, I had to kill about an hour. Going into the city center was too far for me with my weak ankle, so I strolled up and down the Royal Military Canal in a pretty park. This little waterway was once built to stop the French from overrunning Hythe. But for those who crossed the English Channel, this better moat was „peanuts“!

At last the time had come and I could climb into the spic and span toy train. Taller passengers, like me, had a problem with their seats, because they bumped into the ceiling when sitting upright. Well, the ride itself was not particularly exciting. It went past many backyard gardens that looked like „Hempel‘s under the bed“ (as we say in German fo a mess), over several drainage ditches, past a myriad of ewes each tending to their two lambs - an uninspiring area. The end of the ride led through a flat gravel landscape formed by the tides. The gravel has to be removed regularly; otherwise the two nuclear reactors would be cut off, seperated, from the environment at some point. So they came up with the glorious idea of using the small stones by the tonne for the construction of the Channel Tunnel. It was not possible to find out what would happen to this gravel material after the construction work had been completed.

We had a one-hour stopover at the Dungeness turnaround station. I used the time to stroll from one lighthouse to the other and to look at the small fishermen's shacks, some of which are now inhabited by quirky artists. I was hungry and in the mood for fish and chips. In the station restaurant - just as cute as the train - they served me a portion that was not bad. I‘m really a good eater, but I had half of it packed for my two ladies. They, however, just turned up their noses at home and moved their attention to other things. Probably they don’t have their British taste buds activated!

I was actually able to spend the rest of the afternoon in a deckchair outside. While Wuschel worked on my feet with her usual devotion, I devoted myself to further travel planning. I hadn‘t come to a sensible conclusion yet, as there were a great number of interesting spots to visit along the coast. Surprises were inevitable! I had to set priorities somehow. Anyway, Hythe was definitely on the agenda for tomorrow.

April 7th A look into the past

Today, too, the weather was promising and we all crawled out of bed together at around seven o‘clock. Was it because of me being sixty or because of my accident that I needed more and more time to get around? I was usually ready to go in two hours, today I needed almost three...

I caught the bus after ten o‘clock and drove to the traffic-calmed pedestrian zone of the small town. No big sights, I thought to myself and strolled off. I couldn‘t resist a visit to „ALDI“, because I wanted to compare the price level between our two countries. I had the approximate prices from Germany in my head. In general, one could say that the purchase value of a Euro at home was comparable to the purchase value of an English pound at that time. However, that meant that prices were higher because the pound had higher value than the Euro at that moment. Unfortunately, it was the same with gas. Diesel was more expensive than regular gasoline and you paid about £1.42 for a litre, so please don‘t grumble at home!

The only busy main road was quickly passed - as long as my speed could be called fast. In any case, I could not take my two ladies on longer walks in the near future. That would have been too exhausting for me, I regretfully realized.

I noticed a really small, cozy little town with many coffee shops, which were very well visited. Some old houses and Inns – not necessarily Baedeker suitable but nice to look at. I was drawn to the church up the hill: I love panoramic views more than anything! There I later got into conversation with a German forensic scientist in the crypt. A group of young researchers got together here to catalog, study and describe the many bones in this crypt. With this work they wanted to prevent, among other things, the odd medieval skull or bone or two wandering off into private hands. They had been working on this classification for three years and it would take several more years until all the 1,100 skulls and 8,000 thigh bones of about 4,000 people had been recorded and filed in the computer. The young lady explained to me with enthusiasm what one could learn about humans from such old remains and how different shapes and fragments could be interpreted. I felt like I was in Schliemann's time, when he was doing his excavations. A truly meticulous activity, that required a lot of love for the matter. Today, at least the crew could work outdoors and not in the damp coolness of the crypt. She also told me that there were only two places in England that had such an ossuary to show for it. Unfortunately, I have forgotten where number two was to be found. I marveled at the dedication and expertise of these students. Silently, though, I wondered how long such enthusiasm would last and whether much of it would remain with skull 935 and femur 6,598.

Fed with information and very tired I did a little round in the decayed cemetery with old gravestones, before I went back home again. On the way I bought a kitschy Tea Pot with an English flag and a red heart. What must be must be! Glass teapots anyone can have and mine had broken down!

Tired and hungry, I arrived back at my home port at around 1:30 and was greeted effusively by two hairy ladies. Today they were not alone for as long as yesterday. We had lunch outside and later a blessed siesta. Since I was still exhausted from the long tour, I decided alternatively for the deck chair and not for the swimming pool. But how to read a book sensibly in a balmy breeze when besieged at the same time by two dogs, each demanding a hand to pet?

We will break camp here tomorrow and push further west. Rye, Hastings and Bodiam Castle were on my agenda. The only thing we were missing was a place to stay for the night in this corner. I had not found anything with my cheap bidders. So let‘s trust our luck!

April 8th Left, left, left, ...

We woke up to a bright blue sky at around half past six. The early wake-up was not bad, because yesterday at ten o‘clock I was already in the feathers, so to speak. My ladies’ bladders were pressing very hard so I started with half open eyes out on the green spaces. Breakfast and tidying up worked faster today than yesterday and at around nine o‘clock we were already on the road.

In vain I tried to get on the internet in the main building. My new laptop was not responding! No connection to the wide world! Once again, I had to find an expert who could find the right button. The same had already happened in America. Therefore I couldn’t check my account, which did not bring any further worries; I just would have liked to rub my hands if the money from the tax office had finally arrived! Carelessly I drove to the check-out dutifully on the right, which brought me a disgruntled look from the oncoming traffic. But thank God I was driving at a speed of only 15 km/h. Quick as a flash I remembered that I was in England and prayed my little saying: „Left, left, and left again!“ Turning right still cost me a bit of thought. Where did I have to look first? Concentration, please! Only when I no longer perceived an enemy from any direction did I dare to make the maneuver - even if the well-rehearsed notoriously English queue had formed behind me!

There was one advantage of taking my own car to the island. One did not have to get used to the mirror-image vehicle technology as well. The roadside was however threateningly close to my left seat position and the width of oncoming large vehicles could be estimated more poorly. So therefore rather use the brakes, before it costs a mirror. I had already lost sufficient of those in Mexico!

I reached without damage the pretty village of Rye, which is praised in every guidebook. I parked my big box at a wholesale market, very close to the old center, by the train station. A few hundred meters further, there would also have been a large bus parking lot. But why walk further than necessary?

Just before the crossing I discovered a tiny Internet coffee shop, which also offered repair service! If that was not a lucky coincidence! The owner examined my device and promised me to solve the problem in the next hours for £35.00 and to install some extras for me. So I left him my portable office and set off alone to the historic town center of Rye.

The descriptions of the old town were not exaggerated. Beautiful, old half-timbered houses, charming house tiles, quiet corners, cozy tea rooms from the 15th century and a cobblestone in some alleys that had it all. The latter was, of course, a real treat for my damaged ankle. However, I had taken a pill in the morning and so I masterethe narrow and steep climb up the old bell tower. Slowly and deliberately I enjoyed the panoramic view: recommendable!

Lunch and siesta happened in the camper. Finally I could pick up my device again. The gentleman involved me in a nice conversation and incidentally gave me a few tips for the overnight stay. I should also take the coastal road to Hastings: it was very charming.

The suggestions turned out to be not very suitable, because the recommended campsites were all mobile home areas and not designed for driving people. Unfortunately, I could enjoy little of the beauty of the road, because it was very narrow, winding and also well-travelled because of the weekend traffic. Again and again I was confronted with big cars, which increased my adrenaline level a bit.

Then I discovered a sign near Hastings and followed the camping sign. It went steeply up and it wasn’t really a motorway! Where does my destiny lead me again? I ended up in a huge caravan/holiday park, but this time there was an even huger campground attached. For£20.00/night I could pick a spot - no discounts with any of my camping cards. Much, much green around me was offered and this now would benefit my two ladies, who had waited so dutifully for me time and again. We took a long, well-deserved sniffing round even if my tired legs grumbled.

Tomorrow we would make the most of the green ambiance and have a lazy day. Hastings - despite William the Conqueror – does‘t have too much to offer, and the following day we would venture a bit into the north of the county. For today, my activities had been enough. Tomorrow I would check to see if my repair service had worked - if Wi-Fi was available!

Rye

April 9th On Wilhelm’s trail

We developed into early risers! When daylight came, we were as lively as the feathered fowl - but without crowing! I was already on my way to Hastings before nine o‘clock. A beautiful morning again ...

Up to the bus station I had to run steeply downhill! With horror, I thought of the way home. Hastings, the city of William the Conqueror is featureless, but lies on an extensive pebble beach and nestles sheltering against the rocks. I was drawn to the counterpart of the Bayeux Tapestry, also an unusual embroidery nearly 70 meters long, depicting the story of the 1066 Conquest in more than 80 scenes. Bad luck! At the information office, I was told that this needlework had been moved to London ten years ago. They should please update the travel guide!

In the glorious sunshine, I had no choice but to take the funicular to the top of the castle hill: not much remained of the castle itself. However, I discovered a picturesque „King Arthur“ nearby. Two streets of old town, that was it! All that remained was the way home, past a less than appealing amusement pier, supposedly erected where William first set foot on British soil. Pure question of faith ...

I postponed my Internet activity in the park, because the prices for a day Wi-Fi connection were exorbitant! £6.00 for twenty-four hours! Probably not quite clever! Thus, after a long lunch and a nap, I hiked with my two ladies along the hills until we saw the sea and it was steep downhill again! Thank you, I already had that pleasure today. The rest of the afternoon was filled with new planning, because I wanted to square the circle again. Sightseeing, cheap campsites, schedule, visiting acquaintances and driving distance could not be reconciled. It was heavy work and so I postponed this task for tomorrow. We would eventually figure it out.

Typical English terraced house settlement! One recognizes its error when coming home only if the wrong woman or the wrong man is sitting in the living room!

April 10th The Battle of Hastings lost!

A picture book morning! Again we had managed to get out of bed early. On my program there was a round trip back to Winchelsea, to Bodiam and Sissinghurst Castle. Overnight stay was planned again in Hastings but this time, on the second indicated campground. We will quickly dispose of, I thought to myself, and then we can go! We are making good time.

Great, the tires were going crazy. I was stuck on the wet meadow! It went neither forward nor backward. No chance, the tires were thickly covered in dirt. I could probably get help only in reception. So I marched a few hundred meters in that direction. There they sent me two gentlemen with a small off-road vehicle. Looking at the misery, they decided to go for a four-wheel drive. It took a while to get that organized: pulling my vehicle broke their chain twice. The dogs were just too heavy! When they tried it on their own with the tow strap, it finally worked! No more English lawns! There I was, over an hour late. Battle number one mastered!

What the heck (I thought to myself) and meandered down the narrow street. This time a passenger car stood in my way and I could not pass. Repeated intensive honking got the owner back with the programme and the way was free - for me and the waiting queue behind me! Battle number two conquered.

The road to the second campground made me sweat! Hastings up and down. San Francisco was a piece of cake compared. At least in SF the streets were wide but today (Sunday) the descendants of William the Conqueror had parked crisscross on the side of the road. It was narrow like an alley and with oncoming traffic. Camping number two found, but I was turned away! No „traveling guests“ at the moment!

In the meantime we had almost arrived at noon. I was fed up and just wanted to get out of that hole. So again uphill and downhill! I was no longer interested in any castles in the area or cozy village. I had already visited Bodium and Sissinghurst years ago. The only thing I felt sorry for was the cottage of Rudyard Kipling. I gladly did without the battlefield of Battle: I had suffered my own defeat!

Therefore we now went further to the west. I had made a decision: I would leave Cornwall and Wales to the left for the time being - literally - and work my way north to my former colleagues. This, somehow, would bring me closer to my goal faster, even if my German tax office hadn‘t paid yet. I just took a chance! My current tax advisor would fix it! If I gave up on my plan, I‘d be so annoyed when the money did arrive. If not, I would stay home next Christmas and save! I was always a good gambler and a bad loser!

At least the weather cooperated and the landscape blossomed in yellow and white. The daffodils had already faded and the exhauated camellias were hanging their heads sadly. It was so warm that it was easy to get rid of my socks. Nevertheless, at night the heater was still running intermittently when the temperature in the camper dropped to 16°C.

The traffic on the A259 and A27 was considerable – all Sunday trippers! Big traffic circles, small traffic circles, turn left (easy), turn right (less easy): everything has to be learned. After about 120 km I reached my new campsite near Chichester. For today I was done. I had lunch at around 14:00 and took a well-deserved siesta. Afterwards there was a reward round for my companions. They really were as patient as lambs!

The Touring Park was again an appendage of a huge Caravan Park. A small town in itself and the vacation cottages densely packed. For me, unthinkable in the long run! For such a simple cottage, interested people pay on average £16,000, without pitch fee or maintenance costs. In return, they can see what TV program is on and what‘s for dinner at the neighbor’s house. There is a clubhouse, now and then a swimming pool and everywhere in the main buildings the loud slot machines. The English are already sitting in their terraced houses (My home is my castle ...) close together in their wooden vacation cottages on rolls. Sense of community? Desire for security? Fear of being alone? Why? I‘ll have to interview my friends about this one day.

Finally, after walking for almost a kilometer from the Touring Park to the clubhouse – I got on the Internet for free and was able to do all my mail. My day was topped off by another objection from the tax office. Today was really not my day!

April 11th In the Downlands

After a half restful night (I pondered again the continuity of the trip and its financing) we left comfortably at around half past nine. The two sightseeing points were a maximum of twenty kilometers away. Since the open air museum (Weald & Downland Open Air Museum) didn‘t open until eleven o‘clock, we strolled through the quiet and cozy little town of Midhurst. There was no hurry here, just British tranquility. We sat down for a cream tea in front of the church and enjoyed ourselves. I was amazed to see how many people could be out and about on a normal Monday afternoon. Were kids at school on holiday already? Child and cone were on the way and the parking lot in front of the open-air museum was already well occupied. Today I enjoyed the „60“ situation – I saved myself a pound of the entrance fee as I was now officially a senior citizen in GB! The dogs were allowed to accompany their mistress on the short leash. That was good! During one and a half hours we marched through the facility. For my ankle I had swallowed a pill as a precaution. Open-air museums are all the same, only the buildings are different – and yet again very similar to ours in Germany!

The entire complex is nestled in the charming hills of the Downlands and offers beautiful views of the picturesque landscape with its many hedges and shrubs on the circular paths. In a normal passenger car, you often can‘t see past the dense natural road boundary and feel like you‘re in an alley with green walls whereas a motorhome also allows a look “behind the scenes”.