Backtracking - Northumberland

So the theme of my trip so far seems to be visiting relatives completely buggered due to no sleep. I came to Cuneo to visit my Italian relatives with about 3 hours' sleep under my belt and I got to Morpeth after a dreadful night and 5 hours' sleep. What's the lesson we've all learnt about Sarah? She needs at least 10 hours of sleep otherwise she's a cranky bitch. Even more than her normal state of bitch. Therefore it's a lot.

So I get to Morpeth after catching a bus and a train. I changed at York, and just from driving through it I think I would love to go to that city. Next time (this whole trip has been a series of "next times"). Morpeth: I arrive at the station and a heap of people get off. I start worrying that I'm not going to see the rellies because I don't think I've seen pictures of them in years and wouldn't have a clue what they look like. My description of myself to them was, "I'll be the one with the massive backpack on, struggling to walk," but there are lots of people with backpacks getting of the train (although they seemed to be managing well enough). I hung back a bit so the crowds would disperse and eventually locked eyes with a couple of men and did that whole, "Derek?" enquiry you do just by mouthing and gesturing. It was my cousins Derek and Jim. Very exciting to have found them and met them. We got to Derek's place and the whole family was there. Nuts. And here's me looking and feeling like death.

So, a quick family tree breakdown:
My granddad (Nonno), had two brothers who died in WWII and didn't have any families, and two sisters, Jenny and Winnie. Derek is Jenny's son and Martin and Jim are Winnie's sons. I'd met Martin about five years ago when he came out to Australia with his son Aarin who was on a rugby trip.

So when I got to the house there was Auntie Winnie and her husband, Uncle Sid, Martin and his wife (name escapes me.... awkward), Jim's wife (again, name?) and Derek's wife Beryl. Then we're later joined by Derek's son Mark and his girlfriend Joanna. Beryl had cooked up a feast and we ate and drank and swapped stories.

Things that I found out: EVERYTHING NONNO EVER TOLD ME ABOUT HIMSELF IS A LIE. Remember that huge lie I found out about recently? Well, everything else was a lie too. I used to tease him and say he was like the guy from Big Fish, but at least the guy from Big Fish had a realistic basis for his stories. Nonno had made stuff up about how his parents met, saying that his dad was a tumbler in the circus and there was a huge storm so they had to stay overnight in this place and that's how he met Nonno's mum. Such a gorgeous story. SUCH A LIE!!! There was a bunch of other things, but that was the main one that annoyed me. Why lie for? Lies make baby Jesus cry. ;)

Anyway, it was so weird to see Auntie Winnie. I'd heard stories of her, and my grandmother practically hero worships her after her visit to Australia in the 70s, but it was weird to see her in the flesh. She looks exactly like Nonno, so much that it made me want to cry.

I really miss Nonno. He would have loved this reunion, or at least to know that I'd met all his family. It was his birthday yesterday. Gosh, I'm such a Debby downer!

So anyway, I was staying at Derek and Beryl's for a few days. The next day we set off for Alnwick Castle (pronounced "Annick"). Why? Because I'm a loser-child-nerd who wanted to see where part of Harry Potter was filmed. Lame. But awesome. They filmed the flying lessons in the courtyard there. So exciting. I got a bit of practice in ("UP!" - see? I'm a pro!), wandered around a little, checked the place out, decided not to see the gardens because it was ridiculously expensive, although I've seen pictures of the treehouse that's built there and it's pretty cool. We then went to a little fishing village called Seahouses and had the BEST fish and chips. So, so good. Although, I didn't get mine English style, which is with heaps of salt and vinegar all over the ships. Ergh.

Have I mentioned yet how gorgeous everything up in Northumbria is? It's absolutely adorable, all pretty country lanes and gorgeous old cottages. People there are called Geordies and have their own way of speaking (totally bought myself a phrasebook - still can't say anything but "Ay maan") and really thick accents. Too much fun.

Anyway, after Seahouses we drove around a bit more past lots of castles and such (still not castled out) and just had a very nice day.

The next day we went down to Durham to see where Nonno was born and grew up which was in a little mining town called Hetton-le-hole (funny moment where Derek pointed out the part that was Hetton, literally in a hole). I saw the street where he was born, the house where his mother lived when she died, and the house Nonno lived in when he was a bit older before moving to London. I still don't believe that Nonno actually had a life before I existed, that's just being ridiculous, but it was great in a weird way to see where Nonno was born and the places he lived. I know he wasn't very happy there, especially working in the mines, because he got out as soon as he could.

From there we went to Durham Cathedral which was absolutely stunning. Our experience was a little marred, however, by the fact that we decided to do a guided tour of the place. The woman who took our tour was like an old teacher, really strict and dull (that'll be me one day :P), and spent nearly an hour telling us about the history of the place. That's fine and all, but the information she gave us was kind of irrelevant. I realised about half an hour into her talk that she hadn't even gotten to the part of where they started to build the cathedral. You know it's gonna be a long day when that happens. Eventually she finished with her history and started to take us around the cathedral, pointing out some of the things you would miss, like the part where the roof is uneven, that sort of thing. (The reason for the imperfections - when the people building it realised that they were creating something perfect, they had to change it because only God is perfect... allegedly.)

Oh, and another cool point about Durham Cathedral - more Harry Potter scenes! The scene in the first movie where it's snowing and he's in the courtyard with Hedwig. Oh yeah.

We also drove through Newcastle, which seemed like a nice enough city, only it seems to want to be Sydney, what with it's Sydney Harbour Bridge. Dear Newcastles of the world: you are not Sydney, nor will you ever be so give up now. You're welcome.

The next day we went a-wandering through the town where Derek and Beryl live, Morpeth. Such a lovely town with it's own castle. A teeny tiny one, but still enough to make me jealous. Dural doesn't have it's own castle. And North Lambton SURE AS HELL doesn't have it's own castle. Please. Any building there would just get attacked by the child-hoodlums!!! Parkhill can be the castle of North Lambton. Or actually, now that I don't live there, it can't be. It has to fall to ruin.

And that's kind of my time in Northumberland with Derek and Beryl. Next time I go I'm definately going to Hadrian's Wall which we didn't have time to do. I did manage to get a ride in Derek's pride and joy, his MG. Very nice.