| Mother England | | | | rolling like a sideways log down a certain slope, or |
| There's no place like home... | | | | just sitting in the long grass peppered with wild |
| | | | flowers. From up there the villages, cars and |
| I thank Wales daily for her hospitality. She | | | | animals looked like the wooden toys I loved to |
| provides a kind of safe comfort, like that of an | | | | play with. You could clearly hear lambs calling each |
| over-stuffed chintz armchair in the parlour of an | | | | other in a field two miles away. |
| affectionate great-auntie; the sort of great-auntie | | | | My teens were spent in North Yorkshire. Outings |
| who pinches your cheeks and plies you with cake. | | | | were rare; we owned a shop, which opened |
| However, despite England's dubious history, | | | | seven days a week. A day trip was usually to the |
| England is my mother and therefore has my | | | | far north, where spreads a huge handspun cloak |
| heart. | | | | of heathered moorland. Well-timed trips afforded |
| I once heard that one's own culture becomes | | | | golden vales of happily nodding daffodils, or dense |
| stronger when one is immersed in another culture, | | | | groves carpeted with a hovering mist of bluebells. |
| perhaps to defend and preserve it? All my family | | | | My favourite haunts were the little villages where |
| were born in England, but I spent my early | | | | sheep had a free rein and nibbled the grass as |
| childhood with them in the USA. I had a very | | | | short as the pile of velvet. |
| happy time there and could write volumes on its | | | | My brother lives in a small market town in middle |
| beauty, but I always kept England on the highest | | | | England. The public phone boxes are still painted |
| pedestal. We would very occasionally make a long | | | | red, and the duck-pond is still the main focal point |
| drive to an English shop selling Weetabix, real | | | | in all the surrounding villages. There is nowhere as |
| marmalade, authentic Marmite and proper tea. It | | | | stereotypically English in my experience. Many of |
| was like a sacred pilgrimage. | | | | the houses around there are hundreds and |
| My family is from Sussex (a county on the south | | | | hundreds of years old, and still have a heavy |
| coast), and we used to go back to visit my | | | | fringe of thatch for a roof. They seem to be |
| grandparents every now and then. I remember | | | | slumbering under big, wide-brimmed straw hats. |
| the crisp white tablecloth, the strict table | | | | The gardens really are full of holly-hocks and |
| manners, and the sugar bowl sporting a portrait | | | | fox-gloves, and the doors really are framed by |
| of the Queen and silver sugar tongs. I was | | | | wild roses. The men still wear white to play |
| always asking why strange things existed such as | | | | cricket, and are often seen playing on the green |
| the saucer under the teacup, or the lace | | | | over-looked by a long-spired stone church. The |
| antimacassar on the back of the chair. In truth I | | | | most important thing as far as I'm concerned is |
| found the formality refreshingly intimidating next | | | | the teashop. My favourite one in the town is run |
| to the playful freedom of America. When we | | | | by a man with the obsequious nature of a royal |
| moved back though, I felt a school tie at the age | | | | butler. He makes all the cakes himself and displays |
| of seven was going a bit far. Apart from that, to | | | | them on paper doilies under glass bells. If you do |
| me England was heaven. | | | | visit, I have found that hot chocolate requires the |
| Many an afternoon did we spend combing the | | | | longest wait as the chocolate is carefully melted |
| rock-pools of Brighton for sea life. We could be | | | | and blended with the milk without the use of a |
| seen clambering or crouching in our wellingtons for | | | | microwave oven. |
| hours, with expressions ranging from delighted | | | | I must say though that the best place in the |
| wonder to joyful disgust. Then there was the | | | | world is London, without a doubt. Perhaps it is the |
| Royal Pavillion and its mad mock Indian domes | | | | only place a vagabond such as myself can really |
| and minarets. My favourite place was a particular | | | | feel at home. All that which is English (and all that |
| point on the South Downs (a huge line of natural | | | | ever was) is encapsulated in its realm, but with a |
| chalk hills covered in grass). I was in my element | | | | thousand other cultures smoothly woven into it. |