Jess and I parted ways in Marseilles airport for a week. I arrived in Bournemouth, England, and had a surprise awaiting me at immigration. I was confronted with harsh interrogation from the immigration official, firing prodding questions like why I was traveling for so long, how much money I had in my bank account, how much I had saved for my trip, how much credit I had, who I was staying with in England and their nationality, etc. When I told him how much I had earned at my previous job and how long I had worked there, he said that didn't add up to how much I had for my trip. He was trying to see if I was lying, and I was getting pretty flustered, having never had an experience like this before – being made to feel like I had done something wrong. My voice stuttered in my nervousness, and I thought the officer was going to take me into an interrogation room for further questions and to search my belongings. In the end, he stamped my passport and let me go. I was shaken up for the next few hours.
During my six-hour bus ride from Bournemouth to St. Austell, I had conversations with seniors who sat next to me. Seniors ride for free on buses, and they sure take advantage of the service. One was an 85-year-old happy, good-natured man who was a local bricklayer from age fifteen until he retired at 70. Another told the story of her husband who had suddenly died on a July 29th of cancer: "You never know when life is going to take a sharp turn for the worse", she said. I was reminded how lucky I've been during my travels to have been safe and healthy.
For the next week, I stayed at my aunt Jean and uncle Geoff's house in St. Austell, Cornwall. Cornwall is the southwesternmost county of England, relatively less-developed and a vacations spot for English. It has a coal and tin mining history, and was the center of the china clay industry until a few years ago when it has lost out to cheaper sources, putting St. Austell into a depression. Here's a quotation from the 1965 St. Austell Bay Official (tourism) Guide:
"St. Austell with it picturesque villages and rugged cliffs -- reaching down to delightful beaches -- lies midway between Plymouth and Penzance.... It is an ideal holiday centre for those who want to get away from the conditioning of contemporary progress and production lines. Indeed, the whole of Cornwall is just perfect for those who want to rest and relax with natural folk who still live and work closely with nature in a different world from that of the holographs and hurly-burly of office and industrial mass-production."
It was a welcome change to have a home for a while. Dunelm (most British name their houses!) is familiar to me from my childhood when my family used to visit almost every summer when my grandparents were still alive. It's a beautiful, big house with lots of character and comfy spots. This was my first time visiting England on my own, without my parents and brother, and I was looking forward to interacting with my relatives on my own terms.
I enjoyed delicious dinners with Jean and Geoff, complete with cheese and yoghurt / fruit courses, and great conversation. I joined Geoff and Charlie (the dog) on their morning walks, explored the town and the town center construction zone, and watched cricket on TV. My cousin, Wendy, lives nearby, so I got to spend some time with her, her partner, and her adorable and talkative four-year-old, Alfie, who is crazy about bicycles (and motorcycles) and an accomplished rider. Geoff and I went on a tour of the St. Austell Brewery, and I went to Jean and Geoff's weekly band rehearsal, which reminded me of my days conducting the Harvard Flute Ensemble.
Jean and Geoff spent the weekend visiting their other daughter, Lucy, in Broughton Gifford, while I took care of Dunelm and Charlie and enjoyed dog walking and some quiet time to myself. One afternoon, I cycled to the local cricket club to watch some live cricket. I also spent quite a bit of time planning trains and buses for my upcoming week visiting other relatives. I learned that the privatized British train system is difficult to figure out, and that you can spend twice as much or more for a ticket if you buy it the wrong way.
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