Birmingham Moor Street Railway Station

At the risk of stating the bleeding obvious, travel has many motivations and aims. For some it’s the adventure that draws them away from home and the familiar, exploring new places and stretching boundaries. There’s some of that for me, but I’ve realised I revel in the familiar among the new. Whether that’s indulging in the established rituals of prawn mayonnaise sandwiches and Orangina, or knowing where the cups are kept in Chris and Liz’s kitchen, I love the sense of belonging that travel to familiar places can bring. In typical fashion, my welcome in Knowle was warm and hearty. Chris and Liz were away for a few days, but Steven very successfully stepped into the breach.

At this point it’s probably good to introduce our cast of characters for this episode. My paternal grandfather Lawrence came to Australia by himself in the early 1900s, leaving England behind after a family dispute. This means there is an extended family of Weltons whom we’ve got to know. Lawrence had multiple brothers and sisters, one of whom was Sidney. Sidney and his wife Margaret had two sons, Derek and Vincent, my dad’s first cousins. Vincent and his wife Cynthia hosted many family visitors over the years, and their son Chris and his wife Liz now very generously provide me with the ultimate home away from home. The lengths to which their hospitality extends is perhaps best illustrated by the provision of a cup of tea in bed each morning! Steven is their son who used to be much shorter than me. He now plays AFL for England!

The morning after I arrived promised sunshine despite a chill in the air, so I decided to take myself off for a stroll to the high street in search of coffee and the aforementioned prawn sandwich. Ever since Cynthia introduced me to this delicacy on a long ago visit, having one has become my personal marker of my arrival in England. Easily accessible among the variety of offerings in any local supermarket, it doesn’t generally take too long to track one down. My quest was delayed somewhat by a minor misadventure on my way out the front door. The house has a video doorbell which I knew provided footage to Chris and Liz in their absence. I decided nothing would be funnier than if I were to put my face very close to the camera and provide a suitably strange expression. I know, I know…the bar for amusement was obviously set very low that day. I blame the jet lag. In any event, in the action of twisting myself around to face the doorbell I instead found myself facing the driveway, rather closer than I would have liked. Prostrate on the ground I took stock of where it hurt in an effort to discover if I’d done any serious damage. My elbow and right leg had taken the brunt of it, but after a couple of minutes I managed to get up and make my way inside. I sent C&L a message to warn them that the video feed might hold a small shock. It also recorded me saying “Oh shit” as I headed toward the ground! I think it would be fair to say that I’d rather have avoided this kind of hitting the ground running, and it definitely takes the record for the earliest recorded fall in an overseas adventure.

Injuries inspected and dressed (thanks to Liz’s direction towards the extremely well stocked medicine cabinet!), I bravely ventured forth once more. See how important a ritual sandwich is to me?! It’s a lovely walk through the park, with boys playing football and dog-walkers aplenty. Tesco provided me with the holy grail and having been happy that I didn’t wimp out of a walk just because I’d managed to fall victim to the obviously boobytrapped front step, I took an Uber back home.

I spent the next couple of days nursing my aches and grazes before an outing to the cricket presented itself. Some of you may remember from my last trip that I spent a bitterly cold May day at Edgbaston watching Warwickshire play after a misunderstanding between Chris and I about how much I wanted to attend. He thought I was desperate to go; I thought he desperately wanted me to go. Obviously neither of us wanted to let the other down.This time it wasn’t Warwickshire that was the draw card, but Chris himself, as a member of the Vicar’s eleven in a church match against the Associate Vicar’s team. Never mind that he hadn’t played for decades, he had the requisite equipment and looked the part! Just as it had on that day 5 years ago, the rain fell and the wind brought a chill factor just short of freezing. Luckily this time I was watching from an elevated position behind glass as the players continued undaunted by the inclement weather. The Vicar’s eleven batted first, and Chris came in midway down the order. My only advice to him had been “don’t do your hammy” and thankfully he took note. As he wandered back to the hardiest of supporters who were braving the elements he may have been scoreless but was far from disgraced - if anyone was, perhaps it was the young man who had never bowled before and was heard to say “how hard can it be?”, followed by a wide so wide the umpire could have done with Inspector Gadget’s arms to indicate it effectively.

Cricket done and won, we headed out to the Old Crown to celebrate Vincent’s birthday. Liz’s mum Margaret has been staying as well, so we were a happy band of six. Sunday carvery was on the menu, with options from small to extra large. 2 of our party had the XL option, with plates that dwarfed a neighbouring pint glass. The Yorkshire pudding alone took up a sizeable portion of the platter that served as a plate. My small serve easily defeated me, but the contents were delicious. It was then back to Vincent’s for cake and stories of his time in the police force. Five years ago I had to leave before the celebrations for his 80th, so I was glad to be here for these festivities and to share this time with him.

Monday morning saw me packing my bags in preparation for heading to Scotland after a brief sojourn in Paris to catch up with my friend Claire. More on that next time!Read more