Arcadia

Last weekend I undertook a journey I had been planning to do for quite some time: revisit the happy place of my childhood and show it to Highflyer at the same time. Like many children my generation I was "dropped off" at my grandparents' for part of my summer holidays. Being teachers, my parents had the same long summer holidays I had and they always provided a cool summer programme and went on trips abroad with me. That time at my grandparents was in fact an annual highlight for me and I don't remember missing either my parents or my home. Everything was very "exotic" and different from my usual routine. My paternal grandparents (the other grandparents who lived much closer to us were not retired yet) lived in a small flat without central heating, nor a fridge. Their house was surrounded by mountain ranges on either side and a very noisy stream ran right behind it. Since I was mostly there in summers, I didn't really notice just how cold and badly insulated it was. Instead of in a fridge, granny preferred to leave dairy products, etc. out on the window sill. Instead of the electric stove she preferred to use the wood-fired one that also heated the kitchen at the same. My grandparents lived a humble life and did not waste things, least of all food. Granny had an allotment plot on the hill opposite the house (these still exist as you can see in the photo) where she grew tomatoes, string beans, cauliflower, salad, redcurrants and a gazillion other things. Her tomatoes were a taste explosion. Besides what she grew herself, she loved foraging in the nearby forest, drying, jamming and saucing what she found in large quantities. My grandparents' bedroom (always icy cold) smelled of the sliced mushrooms and copious amounts of yarrow always drying on top of the wardrobes. Granny knew secret spots for blackberries and lingonberries and she produced herbal remedies to cure any ailment you could imagine. I tolerated them all apart from the red elderberry syrup for sore throats which I detested. My days there were rather unspectacular, but I had granny's undivided attention 24/7. She made all my favourite meals, in fact I could order things like a sweet pasta gratin with sour cream and red berries, I would always get a treat when I accompanied her to the supermarket and she patiently let me ask her about her own childhood over and over again when we went for a walk. The stories of how poor her family was and how strict her upbringing were very fascinating to me. I didn't really get to watch a lot of television at home, but at my grandparents' there was a nightly routine of watching TV together in the living room, which was also my bedroom. If there was a popular game show at prime time, we would sit in faux leather armchairs one behind the other, airplane style. I think I got to sit in the middle, not too close to make it "unsafe" for my young eyes, but not at the very back either so I could not see properly (my granddad was rather tall). I could go on and on and seeing the house and familiar scenery brought it all back instantly. I would not have even noticed one bizarre detail if it had not been for Highflyer, who looked at the intercom with all the names of tenants. Even though my grandfather died 40 years ago, in 1986, his name was still there. I assume that it had been covered by a sticker, which must have come off some time ago. Time-travel came full circle.