John Lee and Julie & Ian asked to see photos of inside the motor home, and Hazel and Peter both asked for some photos of pubs, so we have put together two albums on both those topics. You can check them out by clicking the link to our photo gallery in the links section above this blog.
We didn't get to Bath today - maybe tomorrow. However, we walked down to the village of Lacock. What a gem. It is the setting for many films - including the Mayor of Casterbridge, Emma, Pride and Prejudice and yes, even the first two Harry Potter movies.
The Harry Potter movies were partly filmed in the cloisters of the Lacock Abbey, and that kept all the kids happy whilst touring this National Trust site. It was most interesting, and in the early 1800s was the ancestral home of William Henry Fox Talbot, the father of photography. What an interesting and bright lad he was. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society at the ripe old age of 33, a member of Parliament, a founder of the Royal Horticultural Society and an inventor to boot. Some people are definitely at the head of the queue when God handed out talent and silver spoons.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Cardiff - a surprising city
We've just spent three VERY pleasant days in Cardiff, visiting a good friend John Hyde, who lives in Sydney but has been working for the Welsh Assembly Government (WAG) for 12 months, writing a housing strategy. It was great to catch up with him.
And somehow, not even knowing where in Cardiff he lived, the caravan park we chose was just two blocks from his home! So he was able to visit as soon as we arrived and was a great host. We went to his local pub for tea on Wednesday evening. The drinks cost more than the dinner!
I'd never thought of Cardiff as a tourist must, but I've changed my mind completely. It's a lovely city. We were able to walk through a vast 300 acre park which had belonged to the Bute family, which made its fortune from coal. (I can't help thinking though of all those eight year olds down the pits in those days). The Bute family had bought Cardiff Castle and later generations gave the property to the people of Cardiff. We had a most pleasurable lunch in the castle grounds, on a very pleasant sunny day.
After lunch I went off shopping and to the hairdressers whilst the lads went sightseeing down to the Cardiff Bay. They toured the new Millenium Centre, which is Cardiff's version of the Sydney Opera House. They had two guides who were intrigued to hear about the problems with acoustics and access at our opera house.
Afterwards, I caught a train to the Bay and we went to a wonderful Indian restaurant. The food lived up to its reputation. We were careful to not order too much, but we still couldn't eat it all.
The long day's journey from Ireland on the Wednesday had taken its toll on John (and on me too) so John had a day in bed to rest his legs which keep swelling up. My bones were aching from lots of driving and walking so I did no more than walk into town to check out accomodation on the internet at the library. An hour's browsing was free. Some places charge, but not Cardiff. Fortunately I now have broadband back again on the laptop, having paid another month's subscription.
For those interested, a "3" modem cost us 69 pounds, and on top of that we paid ten pound a month, which for us heavy users wasn't quite enough, and I kept having problems. I have now upgraded to a 15 pound plan (for a month). It is good for travellers. You just stick the modem into the USB drive, having made sure you put the chip in correctly! That was also a problem at one stage. Vouchers for the modem (or internet phone) can be purchased just about anywhere, such as TESCO supermarkets.
This morning, John Hyde came around to wave us goodbye, and we set off for Trowbridge in Wiltshire. Another genealogy enthusiast from Hampshire had informed me about an open day being held by the Wiltshire Family History Society at the civic hall. The drive across was an easy one, straight down the motor way, and we arrived in time to meet my internet contact, Rodney and to spend three hours browsing and researching. I am now a proud member of the Wiltshire Family History Society and the Hampshire Genealogical Society. It was a great opportunity to gain advice and to look at microfiche of village baptisms and burials for areas of interest.
We also booked into a caravan park in Lacock, a village between Chippenham (where the Wiltshire Record Office is located) and Trowbridge. The village - which we haven't seen as yet - is the backdrop for many a movie including the Jane Austen films. So that is a must. We are also only 14 miles from Bath, so our plan tomorrow is to catch a train from Chippenham to Bath. We'll see if it can be done!
Till then. Only 14 more days and we'll be on the plane home. We'll have a new neighbour by then. Carmel and Ray at number 30 are expecting a second bubba this week, so we are sending them special thoughts this week.
And somehow, not even knowing where in Cardiff he lived, the caravan park we chose was just two blocks from his home! So he was able to visit as soon as we arrived and was a great host. We went to his local pub for tea on Wednesday evening. The drinks cost more than the dinner!
I'd never thought of Cardiff as a tourist must, but I've changed my mind completely. It's a lovely city. We were able to walk through a vast 300 acre park which had belonged to the Bute family, which made its fortune from coal. (I can't help thinking though of all those eight year olds down the pits in those days). The Bute family had bought Cardiff Castle and later generations gave the property to the people of Cardiff. We had a most pleasurable lunch in the castle grounds, on a very pleasant sunny day.
After lunch I went off shopping and to the hairdressers whilst the lads went sightseeing down to the Cardiff Bay. They toured the new Millenium Centre, which is Cardiff's version of the Sydney Opera House. They had two guides who were intrigued to hear about the problems with acoustics and access at our opera house.
Afterwards, I caught a train to the Bay and we went to a wonderful Indian restaurant. The food lived up to its reputation. We were careful to not order too much, but we still couldn't eat it all.
The long day's journey from Ireland on the Wednesday had taken its toll on John (and on me too) so John had a day in bed to rest his legs which keep swelling up. My bones were aching from lots of driving and walking so I did no more than walk into town to check out accomodation on the internet at the library. An hour's browsing was free. Some places charge, but not Cardiff. Fortunately I now have broadband back again on the laptop, having paid another month's subscription.
For those interested, a "3" modem cost us 69 pounds, and on top of that we paid ten pound a month, which for us heavy users wasn't quite enough, and I kept having problems. I have now upgraded to a 15 pound plan (for a month). It is good for travellers. You just stick the modem into the USB drive, having made sure you put the chip in correctly! That was also a problem at one stage. Vouchers for the modem (or internet phone) can be purchased just about anywhere, such as TESCO supermarkets.
This morning, John Hyde came around to wave us goodbye, and we set off for Trowbridge in Wiltshire. Another genealogy enthusiast from Hampshire had informed me about an open day being held by the Wiltshire Family History Society at the civic hall. The drive across was an easy one, straight down the motor way, and we arrived in time to meet my internet contact, Rodney and to spend three hours browsing and researching. I am now a proud member of the Wiltshire Family History Society and the Hampshire Genealogical Society. It was a great opportunity to gain advice and to look at microfiche of village baptisms and burials for areas of interest.
We also booked into a caravan park in Lacock, a village between Chippenham (where the Wiltshire Record Office is located) and Trowbridge. The village - which we haven't seen as yet - is the backdrop for many a movie including the Jane Austen films. So that is a must. We are also only 14 miles from Bath, so our plan tomorrow is to catch a train from Chippenham to Bath. We'll see if it can be done!
Till then. Only 14 more days and we'll be on the plane home. We'll have a new neighbour by then. Carmel and Ray at number 30 are expecting a second bubba this week, so we are sending them special thoughts this week.
Friday, June 20, 2008
More about Ireland
Our last blog mentioned our dash to Cork to obtain more gas, and so far it hasn't run out again and we are back in the UK where the gas fittings aren't a problem and we can simply exchange bottles. So be warned if you ever take a caravan or camper to Ireland!
After a night in Cork, we decided to go back north to Corrofin, because we simply hadn't finished exploring and photographing it. They were surprised to see us back. But we are glad we did, because after chatting to a couple of locals, we wrote two letters to members of the Fitzpatrick family to whom we think John is related.
The next day was long and tiring driving. We decided to go to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast. The scenery is quite varied between Corrofin and the west coast. Our photos can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/CliffsOfMoher
Whilst we were looking at a dolmen - an ancient burial site which looks like a smaller stonehenge - we saw a paraplegic dog using a doggy version of a wheelchair. It was so funny. The dog was enjoying itself. There is a photo on the link above.
After that, we travelled to Killaloe, a lovely lakeside town in East Clare and spent Sunday wandering around. We found the street where our George Fitzpatrick owned a house in 1855, and imagined him as a police officer in town. He would not have been popular. It was just after the potato famines and the constabulary were seen as the puppets of the English landlords.
On Sunday afternoon we headed for Limerick where we wanted to visit Galbally, set in a beautiful valley just below Tipperary. We found an old farm where we think John's great grandfather was born. It was totally derelict, and very sad to see. There are still some people with the same name in the village, but two were in a nursing home in a bigger town and the old lady was very suspicious of strangers and even people she'd known for many years, so we didn't want to worry her. I think she was in her nineties. They are the last of the Quaine family so we were told.
And then south though Waterford to the coast, and finally to the ferry on Wednesday morning. We didn't visit the Waterford Crystal Works unfortunately. Just couldn't fit everything in.
We were sorry to leave Ireland. We just loved it. The people were so friendly, the country was astonishly beautiful, the accents were beautiful to listen too and the pace was laid back. But funnily enough it appears to be a much more prosperous country overall than England. I'd been to Ireland for a few days in the early 70s and at that stage it was far from prosperous.
The ferry trip to Pembroke from Rosslare was somewhat more rough, since the weather had turned windy. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the ferry but arrived in plenty of time, only to find they'd waved us nearly onto the wrong ferry! But all was well.
And so to Cardiff. Next post. We are here for three nights.
After a night in Cork, we decided to go back north to Corrofin, because we simply hadn't finished exploring and photographing it. They were surprised to see us back. But we are glad we did, because after chatting to a couple of locals, we wrote two letters to members of the Fitzpatrick family to whom we think John is related.
The next day was long and tiring driving. We decided to go to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast. The scenery is quite varied between Corrofin and the west coast. Our photos can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/CliffsOfMoher
Whilst we were looking at a dolmen - an ancient burial site which looks like a smaller stonehenge - we saw a paraplegic dog using a doggy version of a wheelchair. It was so funny. The dog was enjoying itself. There is a photo on the link above.
After that, we travelled to Killaloe, a lovely lakeside town in East Clare and spent Sunday wandering around. We found the street where our George Fitzpatrick owned a house in 1855, and imagined him as a police officer in town. He would not have been popular. It was just after the potato famines and the constabulary were seen as the puppets of the English landlords.
On Sunday afternoon we headed for Limerick where we wanted to visit Galbally, set in a beautiful valley just below Tipperary. We found an old farm where we think John's great grandfather was born. It was totally derelict, and very sad to see. There are still some people with the same name in the village, but two were in a nursing home in a bigger town and the old lady was very suspicious of strangers and even people she'd known for many years, so we didn't want to worry her. I think she was in her nineties. They are the last of the Quaine family so we were told.
And then south though Waterford to the coast, and finally to the ferry on Wednesday morning. We didn't visit the Waterford Crystal Works unfortunately. Just couldn't fit everything in.
We were sorry to leave Ireland. We just loved it. The people were so friendly, the country was astonishly beautiful, the accents were beautiful to listen too and the pace was laid back. But funnily enough it appears to be a much more prosperous country overall than England. I'd been to Ireland for a few days in the early 70s and at that stage it was far from prosperous.
The ferry trip to Pembroke from Rosslare was somewhat more rough, since the weather had turned windy. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the ferry but arrived in plenty of time, only to find they'd waved us nearly onto the wrong ferry! But all was well.
And so to Cardiff. Next post. We are here for three nights.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Finding John's great great grandfather George Fitzpatrick
Well, it's been another one of those weeks. Worn out (me with driving and leap-frogging the wheelchair and John with bouncing up and down over all the bumps with poor suspension and predicting my every move), and yet lots of pleasurable moments as well. The scenery is magnificent. Reminds me of the south coast of NSW, but with lots of ruins thrown in.
After leaving Dublin on Saturday, we drove to Hodson Bay near Athlone (a lakeside town) in the very middle of the island. We stayed two nights simply because we were so tired. The caravan park was run by a very old man with severe scoleosis and parkinson's disease and his wife who seemed to be in the first stages of short term memory loss. Like other farmers they turned part of their acreage into a caravan park, and seem to be doing very well. Lots of turnover of vans. But it was very hard for the old man to get around, even though he insisted on showing us everything.
I couldn't help wondering what life on a dairy farm was like 40-50 years ago when he probably started. It was probably tough. Ireland is now very prosperous, and appears much more so that England, where the prosperity is blatant at one end, but people are really struggling at the other end of the scale.
The roads are better than in England as well. Lots of double lane roads, and even the minor roads are better, although still very narrow compared to Australia. But today (Thursday) we've been plagued with tractors ahead of us. Like flies...
John found a large eucalyptus tree growing on the side of the road when he decided to wheel half a mile ahead of me at Hodson Bay. Most surprised. Maybe people slipped a seedling in their pocket when they returned. I just read that a trial conducted in Ireland 30 years ago suggested that 37 species out of 102 eucalypts would be suitable for growing in Ireland. So how about that!
And then to Corrofin where we thought that John's Fitzpatrick side came from. Corrofin is a very small place of the main routes but has a good range of services and a nice caravan park in the centre of the village. We discovered that St Katherine's church (Church of Ireland) is now a Museum and we couldn't get into it because of steps. We found some Fitzpatrick gravestones, and we think they are related but can't be sure. All circumstantial at this stage, with similar family names. Only about 5% of the population was Church of Ireland and many other Fitzpatricks in other places were Catholic of course.
We went to the Corrifin Genealogical Society which is well know, but were extremely disappointed with their services. It would be hard to find a more aggressive woman, who launched straight in to an inquisition without so much as a hello and how are you. Very different from our experience at home with the Heritage Centre and the Mormon's Family History Centre. She was simply hoping to sell us a full research service, and there was no opportunity to do any of our own research there. No computers, no public microfiche - nothing. Just lots of jealously guarded records and paid researchers. She did say however, that the records were available elsewhere.
So the next day we went into Ennis, the County town just 13 kilometres away and our experiences there over two days could not have been more different. The library staff were very pleasant and helpful, and the local history librarian, who occupies an old Manse next door was extremely helpful and full of initiative. He then sent us to the Births, Deaths and Marriages and again, we found an extremely helpful public servant.
We found more Fitzpatrick grave records (but not our George), and then miracle of miracles, we found three death certificates. One was for the William we found in grave yard (we THINK he could have been George's oldest son), one for George himself in 1902 and one for his wife (Ho)Norah Fitzpatrick (1884).
The latter two were most enlightening. George had been a policeman (and we have yet to establish his service record) but it appears he was the Church of Ireland sexton in Corrofin. We knew that he was living aged 87 as a retired widower in the village itself in 1901 (census), but the sad thing is that he died in the workhouse. And that is why we couldn't find him buried in the churchyard where he worked for so many of his later years. Because workhouse residents were buried in the graveyard of the workhouse. That is so sad.
We can imagine - an 87 year old widower living alone - no relatives in the village (the other Fitzpatricks were farmers) - and getting too old to look after himself in his last year of life. No such thing as community services. The only services available were at the workhouse. And in the workhouse, there was no dignity.
Ennis, the County town was a most impressive town. We loved it. Friendly people, a nice pub for lunch, nice old ruins. And one day with great weather, which helps too.
And then to this morning. John said: "I think we have a problem". And sure enough, we were out of gas. We don't think it was filled properly the other day, because it was a different company's gas, and they did say they had trouble.
Apart from Dublin, the only other place to get a refill of Calor gas was in Cork, three hours south. And we had a deadline to get there. Fortunately we rang ahead and found out closing times and exactly where they were. Now filled up, but what a stressful day. We were both so tired.
But after a good three hours sleep, I turned on the computer, and low and behold, we have wireless broadband connection! Hence this blog.
We only have six more nights in Ireland and we're running out of time. We've missed the west coast - we had wanted to go to Dingle Peninsular.
And in spite of Peter's urging, we won't be having a Murphy's or a Guinness. John doesn't drink and I can't stand beer or stout! We've passed plenty of their trucks and pubs though. The only time we go to a pub is for lunch or the occasional tea. They do good lunches.
Till next time. Thanks for the comments on the last blog. There were six!
After leaving Dublin on Saturday, we drove to Hodson Bay near Athlone (a lakeside town) in the very middle of the island. We stayed two nights simply because we were so tired. The caravan park was run by a very old man with severe scoleosis and parkinson's disease and his wife who seemed to be in the first stages of short term memory loss. Like other farmers they turned part of their acreage into a caravan park, and seem to be doing very well. Lots of turnover of vans. But it was very hard for the old man to get around, even though he insisted on showing us everything.
I couldn't help wondering what life on a dairy farm was like 40-50 years ago when he probably started. It was probably tough. Ireland is now very prosperous, and appears much more so that England, where the prosperity is blatant at one end, but people are really struggling at the other end of the scale.
The roads are better than in England as well. Lots of double lane roads, and even the minor roads are better, although still very narrow compared to Australia. But today (Thursday) we've been plagued with tractors ahead of us. Like flies...
John found a large eucalyptus tree growing on the side of the road when he decided to wheel half a mile ahead of me at Hodson Bay. Most surprised. Maybe people slipped a seedling in their pocket when they returned. I just read that a trial conducted in Ireland 30 years ago suggested that 37 species out of 102 eucalypts would be suitable for growing in Ireland. So how about that!
And then to Corrofin where we thought that John's Fitzpatrick side came from. Corrofin is a very small place of the main routes but has a good range of services and a nice caravan park in the centre of the village. We discovered that St Katherine's church (Church of Ireland) is now a Museum and we couldn't get into it because of steps. We found some Fitzpatrick gravestones, and we think they are related but can't be sure. All circumstantial at this stage, with similar family names. Only about 5% of the population was Church of Ireland and many other Fitzpatricks in other places were Catholic of course.
We went to the Corrifin Genealogical Society which is well know, but were extremely disappointed with their services. It would be hard to find a more aggressive woman, who launched straight in to an inquisition without so much as a hello and how are you. Very different from our experience at home with the Heritage Centre and the Mormon's Family History Centre. She was simply hoping to sell us a full research service, and there was no opportunity to do any of our own research there. No computers, no public microfiche - nothing. Just lots of jealously guarded records and paid researchers. She did say however, that the records were available elsewhere.
So the next day we went into Ennis, the County town just 13 kilometres away and our experiences there over two days could not have been more different. The library staff were very pleasant and helpful, and the local history librarian, who occupies an old Manse next door was extremely helpful and full of initiative. He then sent us to the Births, Deaths and Marriages and again, we found an extremely helpful public servant.
We found more Fitzpatrick grave records (but not our George), and then miracle of miracles, we found three death certificates. One was for the William we found in grave yard (we THINK he could have been George's oldest son), one for George himself in 1902 and one for his wife (Ho)Norah Fitzpatrick (1884).
The latter two were most enlightening. George had been a policeman (and we have yet to establish his service record) but it appears he was the Church of Ireland sexton in Corrofin. We knew that he was living aged 87 as a retired widower in the village itself in 1901 (census), but the sad thing is that he died in the workhouse. And that is why we couldn't find him buried in the churchyard where he worked for so many of his later years. Because workhouse residents were buried in the graveyard of the workhouse. That is so sad.
We can imagine - an 87 year old widower living alone - no relatives in the village (the other Fitzpatricks were farmers) - and getting too old to look after himself in his last year of life. No such thing as community services. The only services available were at the workhouse. And in the workhouse, there was no dignity.
Ennis, the County town was a most impressive town. We loved it. Friendly people, a nice pub for lunch, nice old ruins. And one day with great weather, which helps too.
And then to this morning. John said: "I think we have a problem". And sure enough, we were out of gas. We don't think it was filled properly the other day, because it was a different company's gas, and they did say they had trouble.
Apart from Dublin, the only other place to get a refill of Calor gas was in Cork, three hours south. And we had a deadline to get there. Fortunately we rang ahead and found out closing times and exactly where they were. Now filled up, but what a stressful day. We were both so tired.
But after a good three hours sleep, I turned on the computer, and low and behold, we have wireless broadband connection! Hence this blog.
We only have six more nights in Ireland and we're running out of time. We've missed the west coast - we had wanted to go to Dingle Peninsular.
And in spite of Peter's urging, we won't be having a Murphy's or a Guinness. John doesn't drink and I can't stand beer or stout! We've passed plenty of their trucks and pubs though. The only time we go to a pub is for lunch or the occasional tea. They do good lunches.
Till next time. Thanks for the comments on the last blog. There were six!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Rush, near Dublin
Hello friends.
You might have noticed that we've now put a link to our photos above these blogs to make it easier for you to check out our latest photos.
I'm writing this with the beach at our front door (the driver's seat) at a little town just over an hour's bus journey to Dublin. We spent the day there yesterday, and saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College, and the Long Room, the magnificent old library with many many 14th-15th century manuscripts.
We had lunch at a pub in O'Connell Street (their George Street) and wandered around the old town. Dublin now has a huge spire, 3 metres in diameter at the bottom, and almost needle sharp at the top. It is 120 metres high. It replaces the Nelson Column which was blown up in 1966. Wonder why?
Funny thing, we were told yesterday that the Irish don't go to Spain for the sun, because that's where the English go. Some Scots chuckled when I repeated that yesterday. The Irish prefer Greece apparently.
We'd been told that all the buses in Dublin were wheelchair accessible. But guess what? That's right - the bus we aimed to catch wasn't. So we waited another hour for a bus, and luckily both it and the return bus were OK. John got his hair cut in the meantime. What a shock. He got a number 2 (I generally give him a number 3) and if you'd seen him before, after 8 weeks without a cut, most of you wouldn't have recognised him.
Since our arrival on Tuesday, by Irish Ferries, the weather hasn't been kind to us, although brighter yesterday, and good this morning (Saturday). Hope it stays that way.
We are camped next to some very friendly Aussies from Woodford - our first Aussies. There are many Dutch, Germans, a smattering of English here. In England it was many more English at the caravan parks - most of whom had close relatives in Australia.
The Irish accent is gorgeous. There are many young women with dark brown (almost black) hair with pale complexions and blue eyes. A very nice combination of features. Not as many red heads as I expected.
We've had trouble obtaining gas. The fittings in Ireland are different (no one warned us) and we spent all day Wednesday looking for gas. There are only two places in Ireland which refill it now. One in Dublin, the other in Cork! And the one in Dublin is only open for 2.5 hours in the morning! We ended up getting some 60 kms north, strictly not allowed! But they felt sorry for us.
We are off to Athlone in the middle of the country now. Just an overnight stop on our way to Corrofin in County Clare where we think John's Fitzpatrick gg grandfather is buried.
You might have noticed that we've now put a link to our photos above these blogs to make it easier for you to check out our latest photos.
I'm writing this with the beach at our front door (the driver's seat) at a little town just over an hour's bus journey to Dublin. We spent the day there yesterday, and saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College, and the Long Room, the magnificent old library with many many 14th-15th century manuscripts.
We had lunch at a pub in O'Connell Street (their George Street) and wandered around the old town. Dublin now has a huge spire, 3 metres in diameter at the bottom, and almost needle sharp at the top. It is 120 metres high. It replaces the Nelson Column which was blown up in 1966. Wonder why?
Funny thing, we were told yesterday that the Irish don't go to Spain for the sun, because that's where the English go. Some Scots chuckled when I repeated that yesterday. The Irish prefer Greece apparently.
We'd been told that all the buses in Dublin were wheelchair accessible. But guess what? That's right - the bus we aimed to catch wasn't. So we waited another hour for a bus, and luckily both it and the return bus were OK. John got his hair cut in the meantime. What a shock. He got a number 2 (I generally give him a number 3) and if you'd seen him before, after 8 weeks without a cut, most of you wouldn't have recognised him.
Since our arrival on Tuesday, by Irish Ferries, the weather hasn't been kind to us, although brighter yesterday, and good this morning (Saturday). Hope it stays that way.
We are camped next to some very friendly Aussies from Woodford - our first Aussies. There are many Dutch, Germans, a smattering of English here. In England it was many more English at the caravan parks - most of whom had close relatives in Australia.
The Irish accent is gorgeous. There are many young women with dark brown (almost black) hair with pale complexions and blue eyes. A very nice combination of features. Not as many red heads as I expected.
We've had trouble obtaining gas. The fittings in Ireland are different (no one warned us) and we spent all day Wednesday looking for gas. There are only two places in Ireland which refill it now. One in Dublin, the other in Cork! And the one in Dublin is only open for 2.5 hours in the morning! We ended up getting some 60 kms north, strictly not allowed! But they felt sorry for us.
We are off to Athlone in the middle of the country now. Just an overnight stop on our way to Corrofin in County Clare where we think John's Fitzpatrick gg grandfather is buried.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
A day in York
Yesterday, after that dreadful day's driving on Thursday, I crawled back into bed after I'd made the early morning cup of tea, and stayed there until 11 am. Not like me, but I just couldn't function after that drive. So it was 2 pm before we got going. John was also feeling under the weather, so I just went for a walk into the local village, Ulleskelf where John's great great grandmother said she was born.
She was baptised in the church in the neighbouring village, Kirkby Wharfe (on the Wharfe River which flows into the River Ouse at York) and married Isaac Moxon from Silkstone there. We don't know how on earth they met, because each place is a long way from the other. Did she have relatives in Silkstone? There were some Middletons' there, and one married a Robinson which is also a family connection. We will probably never know.
Whilst investigating the village, to my surprise I found that the railway station was wheelchair friendly, so I suggested that we catch the morning train to York today. Whilst it is 17 miles away by windy road, it is much closer by train. And that's what we did, without a hitch. The trains carry ramps, which is what they should do on all trains in NSW.
York is a very interesting city and having been in small villages and towns for so many weeks, we weren't quite prepared for the crowds. It was race day, and being another glorious day there were many locals out and about as well as seemingly thousands of tourists like us. The school children have had a mid-term break so lots of English families too. Many groups of German and French tourists. As well as university students and serious looking academic types.
We spent about four hours wandering around looking at the York Minster, the gardens by the River Ouse, the Shambles and the large Saturday markets. Then back to Ulleskelf by train and a drive to Kirkby Wharfe and then to Ryther - both extremely small villages - to see the two churches where the Middletons were baptised and married from at least the late 1600s to the 1850s. John's ancestor Sarah Middleton was born there in 1804 and married from there in 1836. We couldn't find any gravestones unfortunately.
So another long and interesting day. I topped it off by going to the bar at the caravan park (it is located with a house that has a inn licence) for a gin and tonic - just one, whilst John had an early night. It is now nearly 10 pm and I have a long day's drive to Holyhead tomorrow so better finish up. Till next time.
It's been great to get your comments. We won't have broadband in Ireland unless we go to Northern Ireland (June 3-18) so we may not be able to blog. We'll see.
She was baptised in the church in the neighbouring village, Kirkby Wharfe (on the Wharfe River which flows into the River Ouse at York) and married Isaac Moxon from Silkstone there. We don't know how on earth they met, because each place is a long way from the other. Did she have relatives in Silkstone? There were some Middletons' there, and one married a Robinson which is also a family connection. We will probably never know.
Whilst investigating the village, to my surprise I found that the railway station was wheelchair friendly, so I suggested that we catch the morning train to York today. Whilst it is 17 miles away by windy road, it is much closer by train. And that's what we did, without a hitch. The trains carry ramps, which is what they should do on all trains in NSW.
York is a very interesting city and having been in small villages and towns for so many weeks, we weren't quite prepared for the crowds. It was race day, and being another glorious day there were many locals out and about as well as seemingly thousands of tourists like us. The school children have had a mid-term break so lots of English families too. Many groups of German and French tourists. As well as university students and serious looking academic types.
We spent about four hours wandering around looking at the York Minster, the gardens by the River Ouse, the Shambles and the large Saturday markets. Then back to Ulleskelf by train and a drive to Kirkby Wharfe and then to Ryther - both extremely small villages - to see the two churches where the Middletons were baptised and married from at least the late 1600s to the 1850s. John's ancestor Sarah Middleton was born there in 1804 and married from there in 1836. We couldn't find any gravestones unfortunately.
So another long and interesting day. I topped it off by going to the bar at the caravan park (it is located with a house that has a inn licence) for a gin and tonic - just one, whilst John had an early night. It is now nearly 10 pm and I have a long day's drive to Holyhead tomorrow so better finish up. Till next time.
It's been great to get your comments. We won't have broadband in Ireland unless we go to Northern Ireland (June 3-18) so we may not be able to blog. We'll see.
Meeting the other John Moxon
Thursday was a day of contrasts. A dreadful day's driving, although the scenery was wonderful. I think we must have been in the Yorkshire dales. It was very hilly anyway, lots of narrow windy roads through villages and towns with traffic lights. Including Bradford.
We seemed to take forever to get from Bingley to Tadcaster, probably because we didn't obey Jane's instructions. Jane is our SAT NAV (satellite navigation system) and she is very insistent, and has got us out of many scrapes, but gets us into some too by sending us through very narrow streets with lots of cars parked any which way on the side of the road.
English drivers however, are very polite and patient, probably because they'd always be beating each other up otherwise. The roads are a disaster, being so narrow. We will never suggest anyone hire a motor home in the UK! I don't know how lorries manage.
So I was exhausted by the time we arrived at Ulleskelf near Tadcaster. We had two one and a half hour drives with a fabulous lunch in between, so it doesn't sound too bad, but it was. Give me a motorway any day.
But back to the lunch. I'd met a Betty Moxon on the Internet, and she sounded so nice and friendly and amusing that we had no hesitation in accepting an invitation to look her up - and her husband, another John Moxon - when we were passing through Yorkshire. And we weren't disappointed.
Betty and John Moxon live in a tiny hamlet called Ryecroft, near the village of Harden (nothing like ours in NSW) near Bingley, west Yorkshire. Haworth, the home of the Bronte sisters is just across in the next valley. They have a stunning view from their totally renovated miners' cottages (three joined together) on the side of a valley overlooking Harden. And it was a glorious day. The two Johns exchanged their potted life stories. It turned out that all four of us had gained degrees as mature age students, Betty in teaching and John in Opera. I didn't know there were degrees in Opera, but apparently so. He did it by distance education after retirement. Interesting fellow. Like us, they have five grandchildren.
The two Johns, as I said on the photo album at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/RyecroftHamletHarden29May2008
are related through a common ancestor born in 1751 (Joshua Moxon of Silkstone).
The photos tell it all. Glorious country. They have a north facing conservatory in which they can sit and watch the snow swirling in winter. However, they don't get the sort of snow they used to get. Climate change in action. They used to get 20 foot drifts, but now only six inches.
We travelled from their place to Whitecote Caravan Park in Ulleskelf, near Tadcaster where John's great great grandmother Sarah Middleton was born. More in the next post.
We seemed to take forever to get from Bingley to Tadcaster, probably because we didn't obey Jane's instructions. Jane is our SAT NAV (satellite navigation system) and she is very insistent, and has got us out of many scrapes, but gets us into some too by sending us through very narrow streets with lots of cars parked any which way on the side of the road.
English drivers however, are very polite and patient, probably because they'd always be beating each other up otherwise. The roads are a disaster, being so narrow. We will never suggest anyone hire a motor home in the UK! I don't know how lorries manage.
So I was exhausted by the time we arrived at Ulleskelf near Tadcaster. We had two one and a half hour drives with a fabulous lunch in between, so it doesn't sound too bad, but it was. Give me a motorway any day.
But back to the lunch. I'd met a Betty Moxon on the Internet, and she sounded so nice and friendly and amusing that we had no hesitation in accepting an invitation to look her up - and her husband, another John Moxon - when we were passing through Yorkshire. And we weren't disappointed.
Betty and John Moxon live in a tiny hamlet called Ryecroft, near the village of Harden (nothing like ours in NSW) near Bingley, west Yorkshire. Haworth, the home of the Bronte sisters is just across in the next valley. They have a stunning view from their totally renovated miners' cottages (three joined together) on the side of a valley overlooking Harden. And it was a glorious day. The two Johns exchanged their potted life stories. It turned out that all four of us had gained degrees as mature age students, Betty in teaching and John in Opera. I didn't know there were degrees in Opera, but apparently so. He did it by distance education after retirement. Interesting fellow. Like us, they have five grandchildren.
The two Johns, as I said on the photo album at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/RyecroftHamletHarden29May2008
are related through a common ancestor born in 1751 (Joshua Moxon of Silkstone).
The photos tell it all. Glorious country. They have a north facing conservatory in which they can sit and watch the snow swirling in winter. However, they don't get the sort of snow they used to get. Climate change in action. They used to get 20 foot drifts, but now only six inches.
We travelled from their place to Whitecote Caravan Park in Ulleskelf, near Tadcaster where John's great great grandmother Sarah Middleton was born. More in the next post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
