Tackling the London Traffic

We decided to tackle the rental car return early- rather than try to navigate through London rush hour traffic on the day of our flight. With multiple maps and verbal directions from Alice and Zach, we started off. We made our first 3 turns successfully, then ended up on the A40 going in the wrong direction. We got off and tried to make our way back onto the A40. We could see the ramp, but couldn't get to it. After much stress, and some directions from a Pak man, we got back on and made it to the M4. We made one last bad turn off the rotary at Heathrow and John decided to back up the ramp to get back to the rotary rather than find ourselves back on a motorway going the wrong direction. We didn't make any new friends, but did mange to get to the National car return.

We took the tube back to Queen's Park – 2 transfers and a horde of holiday makers and teens heading to the big festival in Notting Hill.

It was great to get back to Alice and Zach's – sans car – and relax for the evening.

From Lowestoft to London

Time to depart Lowestoft. John managed to get us some coffee – after an hour of walking the town. We headed off, watching the traffic jams heading away from us- towards the coast for the long bank holiday weekend. With time to spare, we decided to make a stop in Chelmsford to see the cathedral where Thomas Hooker preached and lectured. His themes were too liberal for the Bishop and so Hooker and a group of sympathizers set off in 1632 first for Holland and eventually Boston, finally settling in Hartford, CT. Using the Park and Ride, we got into the city and found the cathedral.

It was quite grand in scale- but lacked the beauty of the Lowestoft church.

Back on the road with London in our headlights. Not sure what to expect, we made our way into London – with multiple maps in hand and keeping our eye on the road watching every sign. The British have an odd and very irritating habit of signing to places and not to cardinal directions. So, if you're on the A40 and want to go west, you need to know the towns that you're heading toward – and the towns on each successive sign may change. Add to that the cars with no compass! We did great until we missed the turn for the A5 and were suddenly trying to navigate the streets of London, hoping to find a street name that we recognized. We finally saw Dyer Street and figured out that we could make a few turns and find Brooksville Avenue. We arrived to an empty house – except for Lewis, their 2 year old black lab. John tormented him by talking to him through the mail slot. We waited and finally left a note on the door and headed for the local pub. We had no sooner gotten our first drink than we saw Alice and Zach walking down the street with their luggage. Their train had been delayed for 2 hours.

We had some drinks and dinner at the house and met Lewis, who had, with proper introductions, become our new best friend.

St Mary's Church in Lowestoft

With our records in hand, we headed to the Church of St Margaret. We had some idea of the gravestone locations, so we wandered about Section VIIIb and found the tomb of Will and William Neslen, but couldn't find Richard and Margaret (Samuel Neslen's parents). We moved our search to section VII and immediately found the tombstones of the Liffens, Margaret's parents.

With a funeral going on in the church hall, we borrowed a bucket and scrubber and set to cleaning off the graves as best we could How strange to see the graves of Samuel's grandparents. His grandmother lived into her 80's and saw the entire family leave for the States. We knocked on the vicar's house and his son let us into the church. This was the church where Samuel and Eunice Neslen were married and where most of their children were baptized.

We took once last walk through the cemetery and stumbled on the grave of Richard and Margaret Neslen and of Samuel's brother, Richard, who drowned in the Oulton Broad at the age of 21. What luck!

Just down the street from the parish church was a huge LDS ward house. We tried to get in touch with the local Family History Library, to no avail and the ward house was entirely surrounded by a huge cast iron and locked at the gates with very solid locks.

We walked from the hotel to the waterfront of Oulton Broad which was packed with families picnicking, playing on the swing sets, eating ice cream. We stopped at the Lowestoft Museum, a local collection dating from the Bronze age to today, with a bit of everything in their old cases. They featured a large collection of Lowestoft Porcelain (the "famous"? Lowestoft Porcelain). The old factory was on Bell Lane where the Neslen's lived. The volunteers at the Museum were interested in our family quest and although there are no Neslen's left in town, there are a few Liffen's. They gave us the name of Stanley Liffen, an 80 year old gentlemen who is the Wesleyan Methodist minister.

We spotted an Indian restaurant for dinner- the Balti. Expensive, mediocre food and filled with boat folk.

Exploring the Lowestoft of the Neslens

We got up to catch the train to downtown Lowestoft- a short 4 minute train ride, but worth every penny – avoiding the traffic and the parking in a British town. We quickly found the library and the Town Records office which housed a large family history section. The librarian, a large woman with thick, bright green eyeshadow, was at the desk. She was a great resource. She quickly pointed us to the directories, the tithe apportionment books and we were off on our search for the Neslen's in Lowestoft.

We not only found maps and property records, but also found the church records on births, baptisms, marriages and burials – and a listing of the gravestone inscriptions in the Church of St. Margaret. It turns out that for most of his life, Samuel Neslen was a member of the Church of St. Margaret (the church of England). Later in life, he converted to Wesleyan Methodism and was a preacher at the Wesleyan Methodist Church in Lowestoft. Then he met the Mormons! Kerry found a small pamphlet written by a Mr. Larter detailing the history of the Mormon Church in Lowestoft.

With some basic information in hand, we took off on foot to find what was left of the houses and churches. We found that Chapel Street and Bell Lane (now Crown Street) where the Neslen's lived appeared to have been demolished. With no addresses, we weren't able to determine if the remaining houses could have been one of theirs, although they were of the right vintage.

We found that the Wesleyan Methodist Church had been demolished and a new building housing the elderly had been put up in it's place. The architect tried to keep the lines of the old building but ultimately, it's still a 1960's building.

We found Rant Score, where the Mormon's held their first services. The "scores" were streets cut into the limestone hills leading down to the sea. The original "church" was in a stable on Rant Score.

The old part of Lowestoft on High Street is still intact and many of the old buildings remain. It was eerie to imagine Susannah and C.V. walking these same streets.

It was time to head back to the hotel after a successful day. We stopped at the George Borrow Pub, an old railway pub. We were immediately befriended by "Scottish Curly" Dressed in an old white t-shirt with a huge gut, he was having a pint in the pub/hotel. He visited Oulton Broad four times a year – coming from his house in Scotland. We heard tales of his life in the army as a parachuter. Catching about 70% of what he said (that Scottish accent is deadly), we made our escape, stopped at the local Indian take-away and got dinner for the room.

To the coastal town of Lowestoft

We checked out of the hotel and did a walk-around of the Barns Hotel. The property is on lands belonging to the Whitbread estate on the River Ouse in the Cardington section of Bedford. (Alice Whitbread married Gerard Spencer in 1600 and became parents of the New England Spencer brothers. The main buildings were restored in the 1980's and converted into the hotel.

Another garden center breakfast. We pinched a knife and some mayo packets to make sandwiches for our drive. As we were leaving, we met a couple with a shitz-tzu like dog. She described it as a shitz-tzu p poodle mix – "You can call him a shi-poo or a poo-shit!"

On the drive to Lowestoft, we saw the "Park n' Bite" in the layby (translation- a roach coach in the parking area by the road).

We arrived in Lowestoft to gray skies and outrageously heavy traffic. We found our hotel, the Wherry Hotel, right on Oulton Broad. The hotel was a lovely old Victorian with tiny rooms, but lots of character. We ate our sandwiches in the lobby, waiting for our room to be ready then stopped at the library to get a lay of the land and check email.

We checked in at 3 PM, stopped into the hotel pub for a drink and had an early evening "carvery" at the hotel. Our first British "carvery" was a once in a lifetime-never to be repeated experience. The carvery is like a small buffet- roasties (roasted potatoes), jacket potatoes, chips (fries), overcooked veggies and the choice of 3 hunks of meat- pork, beef or turkey. We marveled at the fact that the UK has some of the most wonderful Indian restaurants, but their traditional food is awful.

Following in the Spencer footsteps

After our regular breakfast at the garden center, we looked at our options for the day. A trip to Althorp, Lady Diana's home, was one possibility- but at $25.00/head entrance fee, we opted for a trip to Sawston to see if we could track down some of the Hannah King story.

With drizzle, gray skies and blustery wind, we stumbled onto a sign for the library – but arrived to find that it wasn't open until 3 in the afternoon. We made a few inquiries and were told to try the Parish Council just down the street. "Ask for Margaret". We found Margaret and the mother lode of information about the town of Sawston. She was interested in history and her own family history, so had done a lot of work on the town. We only had limited information on the King's – an address of "Dernford Dale". Margaret gave us a map and we set off to see if we could find the farm house. We turned down a dirt road marked "Dernford Farm" and found a gorgeous old Georgian house at the end of the road. Next to the farm house, we met Simon, a worker in the business next door. He told us that the owner of the house was Audrey Gregg, a woman in her 80's and very hard of hearing. We knocked on every possible door, with no luck. But, we did get a chance to wander around the house and through the gardens, filled with plum trees and pear trees. It brought back memories of reading Hannah's diary and her love of her gardens in her home in Sawston.

We met Margaret back at the Parish Council office and she gave us mounds of information, including the Church records showing all of the King family They show Thomas King as being a farmer of Dernford, which Margaret said would imply significant holdings. The town in the 1800's was primarily based on farming, then later paper making and leatherworks.

She also told us the story of Thomas Evans, the tyrant of Saltston. He paid his men in money and partly in beer – sold in his pub. So, if you didn't drink, you didn't get your full pay. He was church warden for the local church and when the non-conformists began to build their own church, his men would go at night and knock it down.

The town also has a tradition of "town peas". John Huntington had a field sown with peas for the poor of Sawston. Every year since the 1500's, the towns people have a day of free pea-picking.

Unfortunately, Sawston Hall, the manor house of the town, is currently being renovated and made into a hotel, so we couldn't get onto the grounds or in the house. Margaret told us of the monk holes where the monks would hide to escape persecution during Henry VIII reign.

St Mary's Parish Church in Sawston -

Armed with a bag of papers about Sawston, we headed back to our Bedford. Hankering for another Indian dinner, we stopped in Sandy at the Ghandi Indian restaurant. It was dark inside, but the door was open. We walked in and John knocked at the kitchen door and was greeted by a half naked Indian guy – wearing a towel coming straight from the shower. He told us to come back at 5:30. We opted for a take out of doner kebab and took it back to the hotel.

The Spencers in England

Rather than an 8£ pound continental breakfast ($16 US), we drove to the local garden center where they have a large café. Breakfast- fried egg and toast with a latte was only $8 for two (although, one piece of toast did cost $1.00)

Our first stop was in Blunham at St Edmund's Parish Church. This is one of the earliest known Spencer churches, serving the Spencers of South Mylls. John Dunne ("For Whom the Bell Tolls") was a one time rector of this parish church.

From Blunham, we drove to Edworth to the Church of St. George, just south of Biggleswade.

To get to the church, which is now decommissioned, you have to pass through the farm of the Smyth family. They have a 4000 acre farm that has been in the family for over 173 years. The farm house was a beautiful Georgian surrounded by lovely gardens. The Smyths have the key to the old church.

This church has the oldest known connections with the New England Spencers. John and Ann Spencer have a memorial brass plaque on the wall of the church.

The church was built using clunch, a porous local stone, which over the years has been penetrated by water, causing considerable damage.

We stopped at the White Horse Pub across from the Whitbred Estate. We had another boring English lunch – tomato soup for a mere $8. We tried to get to the Whitbred Estate but the office administration people explained that it would take mountains of paperwork and approval from the family. So, we snapped a photo from the driveway and we were on our way. The Whitbreds who remained in England became one of Bedfordshire's most prominent families. Samuel Whitbread, the former Whitbred brewery chairman, is now the Queen's representative in Bedfordshire.

Our last family church was in Upper Gravenhurst, St Gile's Church. We arrived to find that it had just been decommissioned in July and it's fate was unknown. At this church, Alice Whitbred married Gerard Spencer in 1600. They were the parents of the Spencers of the Great Migration.

As we were taking photos outside the church, the incredibly talkative man walked by and told us the story of the town's attempt to save the church and then proceeded to tell us all about his travels in the U.S. With an excuse that we had to meet friends, we left Upper Gravenhurst and headed for the tiny village of Cople.

The All Saint's Church in Cople didn't have direct Spencer family connections- it was the church of the Spencers who migrated to Virginia. There was a funeral just departing the church so we got a chance to see the inside before they locked it up.

After a brief visit, we stopped at the Five Bells Pub across the street for a drink.

We met a wonderful couple from the next village in for their nightly drink – Jenny and Tom Tonsell. We were craving Indian and asked the pub owner where the closest restaurant was. He brought out a take-away menu and offered to serve our take-away in his restaurant. He also owns a restaurant in Kathmandu and one of his employees, Hari Bagale was in the UK. We agreed that a trip to Nepal would be part of our India adventure

From Sunderland to Stotfold

Gordon was off to China early in the morning- and we were off to Bedford. We were sad to say our goodbyes to ‘the Brits”. We arrived to typical British weather- gray, damp and cold, a bit like our spirits.

We dropped our bags at the Barns Hotel and drove to Stotfold to the Church of St. Mary the Virgin. Stotfold was the last home of the Spencer brothers before they migrated to the States and is the church where the brothers were christened. We found the church locked, but knocked on the door of the vicor and her husband was kind enough to open the church for us.

We were able to see the baptismal font of Gerard Spencer -

ASDA and Genealogy

A visit to “ASDA” (sounds like "mazda")- the British Walmart. Well, like Walmart, except they have wonderful things like: spotted dick and fuzzy drinks (sodas), bin liners (trash bags), and bloomers and baps. Instead of a seafood department, they have a “Fish Monger” and instead of aisle for diet foods, they have a “Free From Food” aisle.

John and I spent part of the day at the library in downtown Sunderland. We did have to negotiate the Saturday shoppers traffic jam, but finally parked and found our way to the library. The local history section was filled with white haired pensioners- most of them local amateur genealogists, who were very willing to help us with our research. One of them even showed up on our door that evening- in the pouring rain, to bring us some census records that she had found.

We came home and had a great evening of Indian (you can never have too much) and wine.

More odd British-ism's
Knackered—tired
Knacker – testicles
Snecker – a guy who steals your beer at the pub
Stella Artois beer – called "wife beater" -- it has a higher alcohol content than other beers.
The saying: “It's either 6 or two three's”.
Cracket – a step-stool
Tappers – one who taps your shoulder and requests that you buy him a beer Knackers –blokes who steal your beer when you're not looking.

Hadrians Wall and Jean's First Dinner Party

We woke up to the news that Countrywide Bank in the States was facing a possible financial collapse. Since we had serious money in the bank, we had visions of being financially wiped out – while we were on the other side of the Atlantic unable to do anything.

With that hanging over our head, we took off to visit Hadrians wall. While Jean and Gordon remembered their school day visits to the sites, we had the pressure of Alice’s love of the wall (the basis for her first book). Between the rain and the stomach aching stress of the Countrywide dilemma, we really didn’t’ appreciate this piece of history the way we should have.

What we really needed was a blow-out evening of wine and Indian food. Fortunately, that was the plan. Gordon’s brother, Ray and his girlfriend, Carol, were coming over to meet the “Yanks”, as well as Jean’s good friend, Sylvia. This was Jean and Gordon’s first dinner party in their new house- and we made sure that it was a success-with huge quantities of take-out Indian food and lots of wine. It was a brilliant evening (as evidenced by the silly looks on our faces).

Coals to Newcastle

Gordon had to work today, so Jean suggested a trip to Newcastle (home of the Geordies!)- just a short Metro ride away. We got in to this beautiful city and hopped on the double decker bus tour.

One of the most beautiful sights in the city is the new passenger bridge (a compressions arch suspended-deck bridge) across the River Tyne. It was most amazing to see it’s majestic opening.

We stopped for lunch and met up with a couple with “the devil children”. It was actually quite refreshing to see a British couple acting more like American parents- completely unaware that their children were causing entire tables to move as far as possible away from them in the restaurant.

Before we knew it, we were back on the metro and Gordon was arriving home from Sheffield. While Jean protested that we were having too many Indian dinners, we couldn’t get enough. We decided to walk to a local Indian restaurant—that seemed to be miles away.

"The best Cathedral on the Planet Earth"

One of the most amazing sites anywhere was just miles away from Sunderland- the city of Durham. The city itself is gorgeous-

But the centerpiece of the city is the Cathedral. (Bill Bryson called it the “best cathedral on the planet earth”). Building of the Cathedral began in 1093 and was completed in 40 years. It is a masterpiece of Norman architecture. It was built to house the shrine of St Cuthbert (yes, the guy from Lindesfarne). And, not to be topped, it also houses the head of St Oswald of Northumbria AND the remains of the Venerable Bede.

We wandered through the twisted cobble-stoned streets. Jean and I took advantage of the many little shops and we got a sandwich at one of the local pubs.

Sunderland Church Ladies

We had another library Day in Sunderland. With 2 inches of rain and major wind gusts projected, it wasn’t such a bad day to spend in the library. But then- John decided that we should take an excursion – walking- to Holy Trinity church.

The Church was the likely church of his Turner ancestors. It was built of Flemish bond brick in 1719. We found the huge metal gate very locked and decided to walk around to the back of the church. We saw a building that looked to be associated with the church and, in typical John style, he knocked on the door. Two lovely ladies answered and were intrigued with our search- especially since the only remaining headstone in the church graveyard was a Turner.

One thing led to another and we were being given a private tour of the Church.

We got back “home” and we got a pint- or two- at the Chester Pub then had a dinner of chili on jacket potatoes (another new British culinary experience).

Beamish Open Air Museum

We were a bit skeptical when Jean and Gordon suggested a vist to Beamish Open Air Museum – it sounded like a British Williamsburg or a Renaissance Festival with people dressed up in costume acting out their historical roles. We were very surprised to find a beautiful –and very large (300 acres) park set up to illustrate life in Northeast England between 1825 and 1913. Our first stop was in “the Town”, set up as a typical north eastern market town in the year’s leading up to WWI. Trolley cars shuttle you through the cobblestone streets, filled with shops and houses. Places like the local dentist take you into the world of early 1900 dentistry.

The large manor home farm shows life in a wealthy farming family in the early 1800’s. Next to the manor home is an operating railway, carrying tourists for a 1 km ride.

But the highlight for John was the recreation of the Northeastern pit from the early 1900’s. The cottages show how miners and their families lived. The school, from 1892, had three classrooms that could hold 200 children.


Near the village was the Drift Mine. This mine opened in 1855 and was worked for 103 years before closing in 1958. We toured the Colliery Heapstead building- where the cages were drawn up from the shaft beneath it. The coal tubs were weighed before the coal was tipped onto the screens for sorting and loading.

We stopped at the local store, Sainbridges, for some groceries because that evening, Gordon was preparing his famous beef stroganoff! Mmmm!

Lindisfarne - The Holy Island

In the morning, we drove up the coast to Lindesfarne, the “Holy Island”. A causeway connects the island to the mainland of Northumberland so we had to check the tides, since the road is flooded twice a day.

In 635 AD, a group of monks from the priory on Iona in the West of Scotland came to the North of England to convert the area to Christianity. The monks came, led by an Irishman called Aidan (later Saint Aidan), and founded the first monastery on Lindisfarne.

The location for the monastery was selected carefully - being within the sight of Bamburgh Castle across the bay –offering protection from the Kings, and also offering isolation, being cut off from the mainland at high tides.

Northumberland’s patron saint was a monk named Cuthbert. He eventually became the Abbott at Linisfarne. When he died, his body was kept as a holy relic on the site (his body supposedly never decayed). From 793 AD until 875 AD, the monastery was in the center of a series of Viking raids on England. The monks left the island (with St Cuthbert’s body). They eventually settled in Durham in 995 AD. In 1536, King Henry built his castle on the island (using the stones from the priory).

We started our exploration at the castle. Since it was misting, we took the bus to the “Castle stop” and walked to the entrance. The steep climb to the castle was less dramatic than the steep entrance prices charged. Having seen our share of castles, we all decided that an outside view was just fine.

So, we were off to the Priory. Once again, the price to enter was fairly grand- unlike the Priory which is in ruins. We walked around the site and found our way to the Winery where they make the famed “Lindesfarne Mead”. Fortunately they were offering samples- since one small swallow is just about all you need of this very sweet concoction. We left the island before the tide came in and made our way down the coast.

What’s a Sunday without fish and chips- especially when served with mushy peas. We searched for a “Carvery” for Sunday dinner- but found our “fush and chups” at the Joiners Arms.

Visiting our "Geordies" in Sunderland

We got to experience a “Bacon Butty” at the café just down the street from Jean and Gordon’s house. Interesting the difference in bacon –from the U.S. thin strips to the Aussie slabs, to Canada’s round, boring slices – to the UK- somewhere in between them all.
We walked through the local neighborhood – John got a haircut and we got to meet Jean’s good friend, Sylvia.

When we got back, we got the full tour of Sunderland – seeing the little burgh of Hylton where Jean grew up, stopping at the National Glass Museum with the very strange all glass ceiling- that you walk on. It doesn’t sound so bizarre, but the ceiling is several stories up and you can see clear through to the people having coffee in the café.

We coerced Jean and Gordon to take us to the pub where they first met- the Three Horse Shoe pub.

Then, we had to end the evening with a stop at one of their favorite local hangouts- the Chester Pub – with some great people watching.