A meaningful holiday
WHEN my husband expired in 1980, I was worried about how I would live on my own after my two children were married, and moved out.
Unaware of my fears, my daughter instigated me to take an overseas holiday. Hence, nine months later, in April 1981, I set out to the UK where I moved into a small hotel bed-and-breakfast room in Upper Berkeley Street.
The next morning I set out, making a beeline for Oxford Street which ran parallel to where my hotel was. On the way, I saw a long built-in flower pot with tulips. They stood so stiff that I furtively touched one to see if it was real!
I then walked into the Selfridges store. The coat I had brought along was not keeping me warm outdoors as it was yet late spring. I bought myself a quilted anorack with a hood, as well as a scarf, to hold the hood down.
The Marble Arch was my landmark to find my way back to the hotel. As I had a Tube map, I tested it out by going down the Marble Arch tube station to visit a young friend.
I booked a few trips, then headed to Wimpy’s Diner for lunch.
I toured several parts of England, noting the various instances where the very old persons moved around freely.
I went to visit a student in Canterbury. He was renting a room from an old wheelchair-bound woman. Each morning one neighbour brought her a tray of breakfast which she placed on the kitchen table.
After she left, the old woman wheeled to the table, took the milk, turned to the side table and heated the milk on a hotplate.
After breakfast, she covered the tray with a cloth and wheeled herself out into the garden with a book in her hand. She sat in the morning sunlight reading for a while. It was then that a charwoman would go in to clean the house.
At 3pm, another neighbour brought her dinner. You see in England they had breakfast then dinner at around 3pm, which was considered the main meal. Later, before bedtime, they had some snacks like biscuits and wine.
I accompanied my student friend to a fish and chips place where the tables were occupied. So we took our lunch sitting on the kerb in a quiet corner without traffic throwing dust onto us.
We then climbed onto a low rooftop to watch an antique car parade and onto a sort of tower where I saw the torture chambers with benches on which the culprits were chained and whipped.
We entered a large cathedral where I purchased a few mementos and gifts at their mini shop. I was fascinated at the size of the church organ and the beauty of the stained glass windows but we were not allowed to take any pictures as the flash bulb in the camera could damage them.
The priest came to have a chat and, hearing that I was from Malaysia, told me that he had served with the British army in my country!
I continued my sojourn and went through a village where I saw a courtyard with a few benches. My guide showed me a sort of stand where thieves were tied and the passers-by threw bad eggs or even stones at them! Those were called stocks which are feet-restraining devices that were used as a form of corporal punishment and public humiliation. It was here too that I saw donkeys for the first time.
Now I started my coach trip touring the Lake District. While strolling around a meadow, I saw the beautiful daffodils! Then I stood on a teeny-weeny wooden bridge and actually heard the brook gurgle. It reminded me of William Wordsworth’s poem about the daffodils (“I wandered lonely as a cloud ”) and the brook; it was one of the poems I had to study for my Senior Cambridge Examination in 1950.
Then we visited Wordsworth’s home, and went on to Haworth to visit the home of the Bronte sisters whose books I’ve read and reread several times.
At one point during our coach ride, I was laughing at the Cumbrian accent of our guide, Mr Gregory. All the others in the coach being Caucasians, they told him that I was laughing at his accent.
He said, “Madam, for your information, I am speaking the Queen’s English!”
I replied, “If that is so, please tell me in your Queen’s English, what you see out of the window on our right.”
He replied, “I see some dooks on the pund!”
I said, “I will tell you in my Asian English, ‘I see some ducks on the pond’.”
The rest of the people in the coach burst out laughing, and he too laughed with us!
My next trip was to Italy. Flying over the Alps, I was intrigued at the sight of houses along the slopes and the river looking like a ribbon in the valley.
I saw Michelangelo’s Pieta (sculpture) in the Sistine Chapel, showing Mary holding the dead body of her son across her lap.
In Venice, the gondola ride was thrilling and, in Florence, I saw figurines being made in the glass factory.
At Rome, the ancient buildings captivated me. Here, I threw a coin into the Trevi fountain and made a wish for the well-being of my children.
On my return home, I thanked my daughter for inducing me to set out on this tour which transformed me into a person ready to face my future life alone. I set out to see the world – and found myself.
“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world,” read author Mary Anne Radmacher’s wise words.