Gone to ground
See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees
Laughing as it passes through the endless summer, making for the sea
In the lazy water meadow I lay me down
All around me golden sun flakes covering the ground
Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon
Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room"
Pink Floyd-"Grantchester Meadows"
The British countryside. I long to one day see it with my own eyes instead of just seeing it on television. It's dramatic beauty has touched my heart.
In addition, there is a strong personal reason to set off on a journey to England, but more on that later.
First, I need to say something.
I have nothing against city life and more power to anyone who likes to live that way. There are many advantages to living in a thriving metropolis as opposed to a sleepy country town. Yet, the disadvantages are many. Most notably, everything is packed in close together, there's lots of pollution, noise, and crime. Sure, it's nice to visit the city and get caught up in the adventure of it all. I could not live that way though, full stop. Noise and chaos versus peace and tranquility? Peace and tranquility wins, no question.
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| You don't see views like this in the States. Magnificent |
Yes, I do love country living. I love the wide open spaces and the acres of farmland that bring us God's bounty. I love the starry nights and the sound of crickets chirping. I love sitting on the back porch with a cuppa and staring out at a patch of land that belongs to you. I love seeing my daughter play with her friends in the huge field behind our house. I love going to the local greenhouse and the local farmers market. I love having to use a tractor to mow our grass. Everything just feels more down to earth and real in the countryside.
There is a difference between country life in the United States and country life in England that makes me very jealous of our former motherland.
The baggage.
The pastoral lifestyle (pastoral meaning "country") in the United States is often ridiculed and maligned, and honestly, I can see why. Country folk in the USA are mostly seen as ignoramuses who drink beer all day and say "YEE HAH!" and are not very tolerant of different views and lifestyles. While I personally know that it is just a stereotype, there is a lot of truth to the stereotype. Dilapidated houses, auto parts in the front yard, news stories of people cutting off a man's beard and forcing him to eat it...you name it, it seems to have happened. The "redneck" stereotype has ruined the allure of country living in the eyes of many. Sadly, many "rednecks" wear that name as a badge of honor.
In England, the lifestyle is a complete opposite. If you are a country person in the UK, you are seen as a dignified gentleman farmer or landowner who takes pride in his crop, his family, and his community. Country towns in the UK appear to be elegant yet simple with family owned restaurants, simple but nice accomodations for travelers, and pubs that seem to put the nicest pubs in the USA to shame. In those towns, everybody knows everybody. Country life and sophistication go hand in hand.
I want to go to England and visit a country town and stay there for a few days. I want a taste of the sophisticated country life that I have gotten a glimpse of in the hit British mystery series Grantchester. I want to see the beauty that was captured in pastoral Pink Floyd songs like "Fat Old Sun" and "Grantchester Meadows". I want to take a walk to the village square, have a pint at the local pub while throwing a game of darts, sit in a field and listen to the cows mooing and the sheep bleating and the chickens clucking. I want to walk in a meadow and feel the morning dew on my fingers and smell the tall grass. I want to fish in the Cam. I want to take a trip to Cambridge and see the university and walk where intellectual giants once walked.
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| The Green Man pub, Grantchester |
I want to see ancient castles, to be awed by the majesty of the White Cliffs of Dover. I want to touch and feel pieces of ancient history, to connect myself with my ancestors. Yes, my ancestors.
I never thought much of my last name, Bankes. For years, I have hated it with a passion. No one ever pronounces it right. Some of my longtime friends even have trouble with it. It was twisted into laughable terms by schoolmates who disliked me. Having a grandfather who was a fall down drunk and a father who was successful in his own business but could not escape his inner demons and ended up taking his own life made me feel that no one who has ever carried my last name amounted to a hill of beans. Hell, sometimes I think the fact that I have this last name is a curse towards the band I am a part of. For many a moon I figured this last name was the last name of mediocrity.
Then, one day, I Googled my last name and found out that a family with the last name of "Bankes" was an important family of aristocrats who lived in the south of England, most notably in the town of Dorset.
WHAAAT?
Yes. According to Wikipedia "The first (Bankes) family seat was in Corfe Castle which was destroyed during the civil war when the Bankeses, who were cavaliers (royalist followers), were besieged by parliament forces. After the return of King Charles II the Bankeses again rose to political power. Their new home, built at Kingston Lacy has survived until the present day, under the guide of the National Trust. The family vault is located in the Church of Wimborne Minster, not far from their Kingston Lacy estate. In the late 19th century the Bankeses built a summer beach house at Studland in Dorset. The manor house as it is named is now a hotel. A large pub in the village, frequented by beach visitors, is known as the Bankes Arms Inn. The family church, St Stephen's is on the far edge of the Kingston Lacy estate at Pamphill. The road up to the church is lined with a row of trees planted in 1846. The 19th century rebuild of the church replaced a decaying ruin of a church that had existed since 1229. The church has several monuments dedicated to the Bankes family, as well as a window and five pews decorated with the family coat of arms."
So, people with my family name lived in Corfe Castle, which was built by William The Conqueror. They controlled large portions of land throughout Dorset and were a prominent family for over 400 years. They built and lived in an extravagant home that is protected by the National Trust to this day, which is Kingston Lacy. A pub and a hotel bear my last name in this town.
Oh. My. Goodness.
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| Bankes Arms Hotel. My last name....always mocked, mispronounced, and made fun of...on a hotel? |
My last name is not very common. I have a strong feeling that I could somehow be connected to this family by a very distant relative. I could come from aristocratic blood. After discovering this, I do not have the strong feelings of hatred and dislike towards my much mispronounced last name. I have a mission now, to get to England and visit Dorset and try to discover a part of my roots. It burns within me like a lust in my body.
So, you could say that making a journey to Dorset, England is not just an excuse to see the English countryside and seaside. It has become personal. I pray I can do this within the next few years, before I am too old. Yet, despite having a passport and having conquered my fear of flight, I still have a small fear of crossing an ocean in an airplane because at least over land you can set the plane down if you have a problem. I would love if my family could join me as well, because they have that name via marriage and my beautiful daughter has part of my blood coursing through her veins. Plus, my wife and I have always considered visiting England high on our list of European countries to visit.
No wonder the English countryside is calling to me! There could be a long lost family connection to be made and a history to be learned about, and a birthright to be claimed.
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