At home in the UK
Saturday, September 1, 2012 at 03:47PM Every time I visit the UK I have a slightly disturbing revelation that I forget between times so that it surprises anew every trip. In terms of landscape, I feel much more at home here than in Australia.
The fact is that although I have come to love the bush and appreciate its beauty, this was something I had to learn. It didn't come naturally.
I have always had an ambiguous relationship with the Australian bush. My first and strongest emotion about it is always fear. The bush is a dangerous place - I completely understand the reaction of early settlers to its mysteries and apparent uncaring vast indifference. I cannot think of anywhere in Australia where I have had an unadulterated sense of delight and ease in a landscape. I have been lucky enough to travel a fair bit down under and have experienced the unique beauty of Kakadu, the Kimberley, the Otways, the tropical rainforest of Northern Queensland, the vast red centre. But appreciating it is always an effort.
When I am in the countryside in Britain, I don't have to make any effort to respond resoundingly and from the heart to what I see. I am just coming to the end of a week on the Isle of Skye, off the west coast of Scotland, and what I have felt every minute of every day of this week is a sense of home coming.
My body feels right in this landscape. When I am out in the vastness of the mountains here, I feel I could walk forever on the strength of the water and air alone. In the more domesticated parts, I brim over with happiness at the sheer green softness of it all. Here, everything is mossy, gentle, abundant and wet. I feel like a kid let loose in fairyland. In the bush, everything is spiky, sharp, uncomfortable and dry if not downright dangerous. It's no accident that the Brits have picnic blankets while Aussies have Billabong rugs - we need that hard coating as protection, even if we're simply sitting down having a picnic.
Okay, so the weather is a drawback, especially in Scotland. But here's the thing. This week on Skye, it has been pretty miserable - almost endless windy rain. But I haven't cared. Every day I have gone out walking long miles in the mountains, on islands, on little winding roads so narrow they have to have 'passing places' every hundred yards so that two cars can get past each other, not caring about the rain driving in my face and wind whipping me back the way I came. This weather energizes me.
I realize, of course, that I am always on holiday when I come to the UK, and that I haven't lived here for an entire winter for a long time. Not to mention the recession and frozen pipes and all manner of things that would wear thin if I lived here year round. But this feeling of complete and instant at-home-ness is so powerful I wonder where it comes from.
Certainly, until I emigrated to Australia at the age of almost twelve, Australia was never on the cards as a place I might live some day. We were always going to live in Ireland when the time came to leave India, so that represented the future.
It also has a lot to do with the poetry and literature I was brought up with. The Lord of the Rings, the Narnia books, Swallows and Amazons, Richard Hannay striding over the Scottish moors with nothing but a sandwich in his pocket as he fled the bad guys. Not to mention poetry that was all about Highlands and Islands, the Lake District, Henry the VIII and the Tower of London, daffodils in an English summer and walks on Hampstead Heath. Australia just couldn't compete.
There's also got to be something in the gene pool you come from. Of my four grandparents, one was German Alsatian and the other three were Celts. They came from Scotland and Ulster, and one thing I've learned this week is that the Scots and the Northern Irish emigrated between each other so often over the centuries, it's hard to tell them apart. And there's something in my physical makeup that feels comfortable with cold damp weather and soft, damp countryside
I am superlatively happy living in Melbourne. Even if I wasn't, I'm not about to move, not with almost all the people I love best living close by. But when I visit the British Isles, and particularly Ireland and Scotland, I feel as though I've come home, and my heart, or something in my chest that feels like where my heart ought to be, aches with the beauty I find there and the fact that I can't stay.
Reader Comments (5)
Clare - a lovely heartfelt piece much appreciated by me, a nomad transplanted to various settings (sometimes voluntarily and sometimes not). Sounds like you are having a wonderful holiday - I was on Skye 18 years ago for work and it was early June and it rained as well but the beauty of the place was not lost on me. Hope the rest of the holiday continues in the same vein.
I think this piece will ring bells for a lot of people Clare. I'm glad you mentioned the literature because that is what makes me feel at home in Scotland and ireland. I sense the Celts have a more poetic soul than Australians and that warms me to them. That and their sensitivity to the numinous - the thin places that seem to exist there but not so much in Australia. Hope your time away refreshes and rejuvenates you both.
Thanks so much for this Clare - and I must admit to feeling the same. My drawback is that I have only visited the UK once but loved every single minute and every bit of scenery whether country or city. Steph and I watch UK shows and the such like on TV sitting there looking at each other and saying "We're going back!" And that I will. Thank you for reminding me of that home coming feeling.
Lovely reflections but interestingly I feel the opposite! The tangy smell of gum leaves, the crackle of dry leaves underfoot, the harsh beauty and colours, the wildness and the heat make the Australian bush my home. Probably all that camping we did as a young family helped, and now I feel truly at home living on the edge of the bush. I find the inhabited-ness of Britain and Europe confining, and long for stretches of land that look like no one has ever been there. Childhood experiences really shape the landscapes that we feel comfortable in.
Thanks Clare, whilst not having visited the Isle of Skye, I fully appreciate your sentiments about the U.K. countryside. The bluebells, daffodils and softness of the countryside will always be big in my heart as will the meandering brooks and streams that flow gently through the beautiful countryside of England. Oh to be in England. Notwithstanding the problems, I love ENGLAND and it's gentle soul.