When we visited Flanders Fields ……

 

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We thought we knew what to expect ………. little did we know.

On the road from Paris leading to The Somme Battlefields we noticed how flat the terrain was. We could see for miles. The earth was very fertile, so the crops thrive. It was like a patchwork quilt of tilled soil and then patches of those numerous crops. However, dotted in between these organised and colourful crops there are cemeteries with hundreds of graves and very fitting memorials to a time past.

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The memorable patchwork of the Somme

To put it in perspective, as one travels through the Australian countryside, the hills are dotted with homesteads or farmhouses. Well, in this part of the world it is not the case. It is cemeteries that fill the countryside gaps here and they are large and incredibly well maintained. We have visited Ypres, Lille, Vimy Ridge, Polygon Wood, Fromelles, Passchendaele, Villers-Bretonneux, Peronne and many others in between, over the four days we remained in the area. All in all there are more 900 cemeteries and memorials in the area. And we discovered that this is far, far bigger than we imagined. Of course, all the war history came at us again while we were travelling and it was now hard to imagine how anyone did return from the Western Front.

Over the years we have had our history book references, but when it leaps off the page and becomes a reality in the form of headstones and very fitting memorials, it is a challenge to take it all in. Perhaps we owe it to all who passed before us to give it a try.Lest we forget We took with us a couple of Memorial Crosses, kindly supplied by Australian War Memorial. The Memorial Crosses were part of a school program conducted by the AWM. The crosses we had were each dedicated and signed by a student from Mandurah Catholic College in Perth. However, the program included schools from all over Australia. One of the crosses was placed at Polygon wood and the other placed at Pheasant Wood, both on the grave of an unknown soldier, at which time we read the well-known “Eulogy to an Unknown Australian Soldier”.

On our final day we visited Villers-Bretonneux, where the villagers will forever remember the Australians.There we visited the school built by the Australians after WW1 finished. We read their stories, saw their photos and saw the well-preserved memorabilia and evidence of destruction. It very understandably had a strong  impact on us all.

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The freedom of children in happier times

 

I then walked out of the museum and heard children’s voices. . Following that sound, I witnessed the children at play in the school grounds. It was so good to see and hear them playing that I couldn’t resist using the camera. And that  scenario would not have happened except for the dogged determination and generosity of the Australians toward that village. There is a large sign in the playground of this school that bears testament to their gratitude which reads “DO  NOT  FORGET  AUSTRALIA”.

soldier and poppyWe had with us other Australians, Canadians, New Zealanders and South Africans all honouring their countrymen for their contribution to the time during the 1914-1918 battles. It was emotional and very fitting for all involved, whether they had family members return home or whether they did not. I will say though that we, personally, cannot take the credit for what our veterans contributed. However,  I wholeheartedly support the Australian War Memorial motto over the next four years …. which is “Their Spirit Our Pride”. And now wear the car sticker to display exactly that.

We are proud Australians and very glad that we walked through those years of our history. We will forever remember those gone before us and if we could hold their hearts, we would.

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Lest we forget

 

 

Around the bend in Waterfall Way

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A relaxed cottage on Waterfall Way

 

As we headed north towards Bellingen to attend the annual Camp Creative week, we left behind the palette of colours that cities and towns provide and started to absorb the calm that comes with the blues and greens of the countryside. I noticed that conversations became less hurried and there were longer quiet spaces between those conversations.

The sometimes “dreaded” ring of a mobile phone echoed through the car disturbing that peace, however,  when  voice on the other end of the line said “We should have done this years ago”. No pleasantries or greetings just that incredibly excited opening sentence. It was a member of the other car group we were intending to share accommodation with for the duration of the camp. And they had already arrived.

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An unsuspecting driveway

As I am new to this travelling group, who incidentally have been to Camp Creative for the last 9 or 10 years, I waited patiently to hear the rest of the conversation. “Wait until you see the view from this cottage verandah”. Followed by “We will be very comfortable here”. I was then intrigued. But not for long.We drove through the town of Bellingen, we checked in to the Camp and familiarised ourselves with the venues for our chosen subjects. As my previous visit to this colourful town was 10 years ago, I was surprised that I remembered so much of it. The colours were still outstanding. Time to find our accommodation and have a much-needed quiet afternoon drink.

As we continued on 5 kms out-of-town and entered the lengthy driveway leading to Fernridge Farm Cottage, I was seeing a world of lush greens in various shades and the browns of the many different tree barks. And at the top of that driveway, there it was, sitting on the hill. It rested among surrounding garden and botanical trees, a manicured lawn as the immediate border, with cattle fences beyond and paddocks down into the valley. And it didn’t appear to be complaining about any of that. It was a white clap-board cottage with a tin roof, an extremely generous verandah on three sides and it seemed to be waiting to welcome us.

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And the back door greets us

There was a time in my earlier years when I lived in the top end of the Blue Mountains and had made friends in nearby Megalong Valley. What I was now seeing on the drive up to the cottage and beyond, took me straight back to those years. It was where I started to focus on the colours of our land.

We parked at the back of the house and approached the house without our bags. Such was the pull. Instinctively and without any words we all took our shoes off as we entered. I was wondering if we all did that for the same reasons. It was welcoming to feel the timber floors with the soles of our feet. No concern with dirty shoes or even tired feet.  We walked straight through the centre of the cottage to the front verandah.  And there was part of the world, just waiting to absorb us.  And there, also, was a wonderful reason to open that bottle and celebrate the start our week.

It was a week filled with a choice of lessons in musical instruments, singing, photography, writing, cooking, lead lighting, yoga and much more besides. It seemed Bellingen was prepared to shared their culture with us all. They were full days where most participants were challenged as they immersed themselves in their chosen area of interest. And Bellingen sat quietly and catered for us all.

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The playground we borrowed for a week

I continued to enjoy everything about this rural wonderland we called home for that week. We shared breakfast with the cows who simply meandered up to the verandah reminding us we were in their space. Each day we arrived home after a full day of activity and, while relaxing, we listened to the cicadas, who seem to sing differently here. Every morning as we prepared for the day, a cheeky blue wren perched on a branch just outside the bathroom window putting his reflection in the mirror, almost as though he wanted to come inside with us. In the far distance we noticed, through a break in the trees, passing trucks going about their busy lives. And we let them.

It was a delightful week when we borrowed Bellingen, with its surrounding tall mountains and plush coloured valleys, with its background music coming from all the trees. It is a great reminder that  “Blue and Green can be see and there is no need for a colour in between”.

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This vista that must take responsibility for very lengthy meals

 

A reason to be on the river

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The”Amabella”

Our journey started when we boarded a river vessel in Budapest to cruise from Hungary to Austria, then on to Germany and finally Holland. I was initially reluctant to try this holiday style, as I wasn’t sure that two weeks in a confined space was something I was comfortable with.However, from day one, I found myself warming to the experience. Particularly when it became apparent that our lounge room for the next two weeks was a gracious space with panoramic windows, comfortable chairs, free wi-fi, relaxing music, food and drink prepared by someone else and as much (or as little) company that we chose to have.

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Nuremberg Market Square
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And the villages let us pass through

When the vessel docked each day we chose to go ashore and explore.On one particular day we visited Nuremberg. We  had a German guide  called Tom accompany us . As he outlined our day ahead, he started to share his family history and unwittingly gave us many reasons for reflection at a later time. He told us much about Germany during the war years, and as my history book opened up again, I revelled in everything that followed. This is why I had wanted to visit these particular countries of Europe. I wanted to know more and wanted to see it with my own eyes. Tom was factual and extremely honest – he pulled no punches, nor did he support, excuse or apologise. 

During that day we spent time at the Nazi Party Rally Grounds. Tom told us of the resistance to re-develop the site and the decision to let it remain as a reminder to never let that happen again. While Tom was speaking, not a sound was heard in our group except that of quiet weeping. Before we left this city, we ventured to the Court House where the Nuremberg Trials were held. And that visit to the place where justice spoke out loud seemed to be a fitting end to the day.

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And watched as we went

Nuremberg was only part of our journey, just one of the history chapters we ‘studied’ as we travelled across the continent. Each day we visited the now-peaceful villages along those rivers.  However, in each town I continued to have a faint sense of a not-so-peaceful time past. The buildings destroyed during the war have since been re-built but most have landmark reminders.

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A majestic work of art in Budapest

The sound of church bells echoing through the mountains and valleys on that journey was the music of Europe. I am now very glad we approached these countries from the peaceful rivers and canals.  It was a testament to a wonderful journey, and an unforgettable history lesson.