Easter may be the most important holiday in the Christian religious calendar, but my experience has involved mostly flowers (and flowery dresses as a child), jelly beans, chocolate, and family. I must admit also to a weakness for Handel’s Messiah, which I find to be supremely beautiful music, especially when echoing in a church.
This year, Easter quickly became the one weekend this spring during which we and some of our closest friends could all manage a few days off, and it was our turn to make the journey from Scotland to southern England – about 8 1/2 driving hours total. Granted, this is nothing in the US, but is substantial nonetheless, and required since the mid-pandemic collapse of FlyBe means flights are astronomical. We had never done a drive this long together before – the Midlands was as far as we had managed – but this time I was able to drive as well. So we packed far more than needed (the joy/danger of not having to squeeze things into a carry-on bag) created a new 7-hour driving playlist on Spotify, and reserved a hotel for just north of Birmingham, around 3 hours north – we hoped – of our final destination.
I started off, more confident driving in Scotland, and we made it almost all the way to the border before swapping over. I think my other half was antsy to get some motorway driving in, and our speed definitely picked up a bit as we headed south. At the border, our route turned from the A74 into the M6, one of the largest roads in the UK.
It had been a number of years since our last venture down the M6, but I quickly remembered how stunning the northern part is – after the Scottish borders the hills become those of the Peak District, perhaps less dramatic than the Highlands but still lovely.
As the M6 winds south, though, the differences between England and Scotland quickly became clear. The fields were flatter and greener, and the housing areas along the side of the road were red brick. The sun shone in a way that reminded me of the American midwest.
We had plenty of opportunity to enjoy the view, too – traffic quickly backed up and it took us almost two hours longer than we expected to reach Stafford. On wise advice from our friends, the next day we took the toll road around Birmingham – gloriously empty – but ran into issues again as we re-joined the main road and turned south towards Oxford. By this point I really felt the Englishness of the countryside – there were great estates and castles at every exit (though my interest in stopping was overruled by a wish to see our friends) and the houses on the estates were larger and, generally, a bit better kept than the ones we tend to see in Scotland. England is just so clearly designed for more people, and that change in population is almost palpable.
Another thing that of course abounds in southern England is stunning, quaint villages with meandering rivers, thatched rooves, and dramatic gardens. Some of the stunning summer flowers of a previous visit will, I am sure, make for another post at some point in the near future.
Advice of both friends and the Google maps lady meant that we managed to bypass Winchester and Southampton traffic, and enabled us to stop in Stockbridge for a short snack before completing our trek to Romsey.
Romsey and the surrounding area will more than complete another post; it is an absolutely gorgeous area and we had a fantastic weekend with our friends. But instead of going into detail, I will fast-forward a few days to our eventual trip home, a drive we decided we would do all in one day. Almost immediately, the change was obvious. As soon as we passed Birmingham we found the roads much clearer and had almost no hold-ups (which cannot be said for M6 south, a parking lot). I cannot decide if it was the speed we were able to travel – normal speed that is – or the fact that we did the trip in one day, or that we were heading home, but for whatever reason we both enjoyed the drive north considerably more. I especially found myself feeling almost relieved as the hills started to rise around us. We were able to stop at the famous Tebay services – missed on the way down – and I have to admit, it is a magical spot with everything that you would hope to find in a high-quality farm shop plus a lot more.
Not too long after Tebay, we started to see signs like this. An aside here as an American who finds British road signs hilarious; depending on where you are, you will often find that they list towns and then, ‘the SOUTH’ or ‘the NORTH’, and one on this trip, ‘the MIDLANDS’. It says so much about how the country defines itself, really – but makes me chuckle.
As for this sign, it and along with a number of others felt to me as though they were almost warning us – you DO know what lies ahead? SCOTLAND? Are you SURE? (I jest of course)
The road through the borders was positively stunning – the sun came out after a series of incredibly hard rainstorms in England, and I found myself smiling as we sped north. We almost could not believe our luck; I was following Google closely, looking for signs of hold-ups, but all the orange and red spots cleared and by the time we reached the borders of Fife, the last of the evening sun was glinting off the Ochil hills as if welcoming us home.
What did I learn from this trip? A number of things:
- driving in England is terrifying (but I know I’d manage if I had to)
- driving south is just busier, or at least it is for a holiday weekend
- the UK is a gorgeous country, even in the rain – fields, villages, rivers, castles, even tower blocks can be lovely in the right light
- I enjoy visiting England, but my heart is definitely north of the border
- and finally, having adventures and visiting friends is one of the best ways to spend a weekend, especially when you are then welcomed home with a view.
The Wandering Medievalist 