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These postcards are from the diary of Raewyn Freedman recording her visit to Wales and England in 2006 with her husband. Postcard Number 1 17July: Flying My husband and I are flying off to the UK. After a morning of last minute jobs and putting the house to rights for our house sitter, we pile our bags into the filthiest taxi I’ve seen outside of the Indian subcontinent. The flight to Christchurch took off from a sunny 7 ºC Dunedin day. For me it is remarkable – I have no anxiety at all about travelling by air. This is very new for me and I enjoy the sense of security to the full, relaxing in my seat and revelling in the view of the Southern Alps to the west, heavy with snow, against clouds coloured light pink and, as the northern winter sun slid into the west, they change to an inky blue. Patches of snow, water, and roofs are turn into glitter like that strewn on a child’s work of art. Soft white clouds below us look like the pieces of dismembered polyester stuffing I had found under my daughter’s bed yesterday. We are offered boiled sweets and soon a soft bump announces our arrival at Christchurch where we are to board our international flight. We chase the night from Christchurch to Dubai, and there we gave up the race. A hazy grey day dawns on an airport easily mistaken for a shopping mall if it were not for the continuous stream of dazed people making their jet lagged way trundling bags and pulling cases; a bright mixture of people from all possible corners of the earth attired in the clothing of many different cultures. Flying over Iran, Turkey, Eastern Europe, Budapest and Vienna, I crane my neck looking out at the landscape below. “Don’t look out too intently,” My husband teases me, “or people will think you do not fly very often.” “Well, I don’t,” I counter and continue to gaze fascinated at the passing ground which sustains so much human life and is part of the history of so many of us, individually or ancestrally. My husband referred to the rectangular fields stretched over these huge distances as a man made landscape. In Britain this 4-sided angular configuration dates from the 17th century. In some areas the Neolithic field patterns persisted until the 19th century and a few are still to be seen in Cornwall. At Heathrow we are generously met by my friend and her husband. They have driven half way around London to pick us up and take us back to their home. We have arrived in a heat wave they assure us. It is 35 ºC, for us a jump of 28 ºC in 36 hours. 19 July: Chelsea Physic Garden We hit the ground running today. Rescue remedy and Cocculus 30c seem to have done their job and there is no feeling of being jet lagged at all. I turn my cell phone on to find that our housesitting arrangements have fallen through. Oh dear! However a phone call and some text messages later arrangements are in place for my friend who lives close to our home to feed our 5 cats and check the house for the rest of our holiday away. Our plan for today is to visit the Chelsea Physic Garden. The underground train rattles, screams and screeches its way through dark tunnels deep in Mother Earth. We arrive 40 minutes too early for the midday opening so we walk to the Embankment and shelter under the Plane trees, planted there for their pollution tolerance and ability to help clear the polluted air. The brown water of the Thames slides by and the river breeze gives us welcome relief from the heat of the day: 35 ºC today too. The Physic Garden is a delight in the wall-to-wall buildings that is London. It is just over 3 acres of Botanic garden. Founded in 1673 by the Society of Apothecaries of London to help them teach their apprentices how to grow and identify medicinal plants, it remains a centre of study and scientific research. Today the area devoted to medicinal herbs is relatively small but for me it is a delight to see close up a number of plants in the homoeopathic material medica in the flesh as it were. There stood Hyoscyamus, and Arnica, Stramonium and Belladonna…. Many of them were suffering from the heat. It was a special wonder for me to see the two Pomegranate trees with their bright orange flowers and fruit at all stages of development. A little Robin hopped up and greeted me bidding us welcome.
In the ethnic medicine section of the garden live some of our NZ friends – plants which grow in my garden at home and from which I make flower essences: NZ Flax, Cabbage tree, Hebes and others Further around the garden are collections brought back from various expeditions to other countries by botanists like Sir Joseph Banks. There is many a story of intrigue, deception and theft involved in the procurement of some species found in the garden there. The only times the main gates are opened to the garden are twice a year for the manure delivery, and when royalty come to visit: a not entirely unreasonable juxtaposition I thought until I realised that it was not out of respect for the manure that the gates were opened, but necessity. Sadly the powers that be at this lovely garden have only a very superficial understanding of the Doctrine of Signatures – the guide not even getting the name right – and they publicly claim that the idea had been thoroughly disproved in the 18th century. They do continue to solicit information from people on folk herbal uses, recognizing that there is a lot of information that is not in writing, but passed from one person to another, one generation to another. This is a centre of ethno botanical research. 21 July: Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew We visit Kew. Here they also have a medicinal garden or Nosegay garden. Here they are also actively asking for information on old remedies and medicinal uses of plants. The giant water lily in the water lily house are stunning, growing to about 2 meters across. 22 July: Southwark Cathedral It is interesting to notice the different feeling of the areas we are travelling through. In certain areas of the underground the earth around us seems to be quite benevolent to the tunnels being there, others wearily tolerant and still others heavily disgruntled. In one area I am told, “It’s dirty. People and their dirt come down here”. We offer to journey for that area and the earth is very pleased to have this done. In our wanderings we walk along the river Thames past a replica of Shakespeare’s Globe complete with thatched roof. Then we came to the Southwark Cathedral. Something about this place drew me and we went in to explore. This cathedral was built on the site of what was a very early convent – about 400 AD if I remember correctly. Later it became a Benedictine Priory and only relatively recently restored and then designated a cathedral. Shakespeare once lived in this parish. As I walked around the church, I was suddenly grabbed by something stopping me in my tracks. On the south side about level with the high altar was a tomb. It is hard to describe the feeling other than to say this is a place of significance and it touches me deeply, grabbing my attention. Looking at the tomb surmounted by the effigy of a man in repose, the name Lancelot Andrews leaps out at me. I recognise the name as that of a man who was a great theologian in the Anglican church, a scholar and a man of deep spirituality and one of those who worked on translating the Authorised version of the Bible (King James version). Grounding myself, I closed my eyes and looked to see what was there. At each end of the tomb stands an angel. It is as if they are guarding it. I am shown a hemisphere of light covering both the tomb and the angels. This light of heaven or the Light World is to be seen and felt here. Introductions are made and the angel to the west says, “We are here to touch people’s hearts, like we did yours.” I feel deeply grateful to have been here, I feel blessed. |
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Pomegranate in Chelsea Physic Garden |
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Raewyn Freedman Shamanic facilitator |
