The Quail Trail - Conclusion

Wia Kotzé
Copyright 2002

I call my story the "Quail Trail". For those of you who don't know the story of the Quails... I call my CI buddies the Quails or Kwartels (Afrikaan for Quail) because we have an Afrikaan saying that goes (literally translated) "As deaf as a quail"..

[Editor's note: Previous installments of The Quail Trail can be read at:

Parts 1 and 2: http://www.saywhatclub.com/newsletter/sept01/wia.htm;
Parts 3 and 4: http://www.saywhatclub.com/newsletter/dec01/wia.htm;
Parts 5 and 6: http://www.saywhatclub.com/newsletter/mar02/wia.htm;
Parts 7 and 8: http://www.saywhatclub.com/newsletter/jun02/wia.htm]

Part Nine

Walking tours down Memory Lane

After six delightful weeks in North America and a brief visit to Canada, the Quail Trail made a detour via England before I headed home. In a small town north of London my friend Stuart was waiting to meet me for the first time in real life and I now know we both wondered whether we would find as much in common in real life as we did through so many e-mails – I am more than twice the age of this young man and yet it felt as if we were soul mates from the day I wrote that first message to him.

A short while ago he expressed his curiosity like this when commenting on a few of the first parts of my Quail Trail stories. He wrote: "More, more! This is a really enjoyable read and I look forward to hearing what you have to say about your trip to England. Indeed, be as honest as you like. You might like to say things like: 'I met up with this seemingly boring, really dull Englishman named Stuart and he was really ugly...!' Or you could say: "I met this guy called Stuart. He made me laugh, and I quite fancied him!!!!" Really, it's your book, so the choice is yours!"

Well let me proceed and then you can decide which of the two descriptions fits him best!

Arriving at Heathrow airport, I had a single anxious moment when I did not see him immediately but the next moment my eyes met those of a fine young man with a broad smile! The warmth of a second tighter hug assured me that getting to know him in real life would be as enjoyable as knowing him as a cyber friend. As we drove to Hitchin in Hertfordshire where he lives, he gave me details about a fun-packed itinerary for the next ten days. It would include some time to settle in, trips to London and the immediate English countryside, meeting his family and friends and more important - quality time for chatting and exchanging experiences about our babbleboxes! The Global Quail was ready to entertain me! The drive home took us past ripe wheat fields ready for the harvest and lush green pastures dotted with farm houses – a pretty patchwork quilt of green and gold.

The second day found us strolling through the streets of Hitchin where we eventually sat down on a bench overlooking St Mary's Church near the Town Square. A perfect, glorious, sunny day very much unlike what you would expect on a visit to England. In no time he was telling me about his remarkable progress with his recently hook-ed up babblebox. I can only describe Stuart's hearing as being "miraculously restored". In my book he could hear better than a "normal" hearing person! He was almost hesitant in telling me how he delighted in enjoying sound and particularly music, and talking on the phone again because he felt that it may make me sad since my babblebox mostly only presented me with echoes and gargles. After doing some shopping we went back home and had a delightful evening discussing my visit to America and Canada and looking at my numerous photos. I was amazed at how easily I fitted in with the lifestyle of Stuart and his friendly sister Laurie – again surprised at how well this brother and sister got along and how expertly they divided the household chores between them. Almost an unreal arrangement between siblings!

Our first trip to London was scheduled for the next day. After a train ride to Kings Cross station we commenced on what he called his, "Private guided tour of London." We took the tube to Knightsbridge and approached Harrods where a sign on the door almost prevented us from going in because the little picture showed that persons dressed in shorts were not really welcome LOL! However he immediately charmed the guard at the door who let us in with a smile. We just did the tourist run since our budgets were not suitable for shopping there! Again the food department got most of my attention and it was interesting to see some people browsing around with shopping baskets only containing a small item depicting them as "tourists" like us!

From Harrods we went through Hyde Park to Kensington palace past the Serpentine where people were already out to enjoy the sunshine on deck chairs watching the ducks, swans and geese preening their feathers. We bought two most expensive ice creams from a vendor near the Serpentine and sat down on the grass overlooking Kensington Palace that was devoid of tourists at the time. To me it felt as if the palace was deserted because Princess Diana was not home anymore. Stuart also remarked that my photos would be exceptional because I had no one in view when I took a picture of the palace. We followed the Diana Memorial Walk back to the Victoria and Albert memorial and then to the Victoria and Albert Museum where I wanted to have a look at some antique textiles and embroidery that I remembered from a visit long ago. I never got the see the textiles but we visited the "Victorian Vision" exhibition commemorating the centenary of Queen Victoria's death. That was quite interesting and well presented.

The afternoon found us on our way to St James Park and Buckingham Palace – chatting and sitting on a wall consuming the home-mixed cold drinks that we brought along. It was far too expensive to buy cold drinks since even bottled water was more that a GB pound and my budget definitely was too depleted for that sort of "luxuries" at this late stage of my journey. The exchange rate for South African Rand was 12 to one pound at the time!!

A few days later we headed towards London again. We had tickets for a ride on the London Eye and plans to meet Kerry, a young HOH friend that I "introduced" to Stuart via E-mail. Again it was a sizzling hot day with bright sunshine – the fourth in a row so far! My host complained much about the heat and even got sunburnt!! So much for someone who has no respect for the sun with a belief that sun block cream is for sissies!! HAHAHA! Anyway, again a delightful trip that started off with us visiting the tourist shops around Piccadilly Circus to buy trinkets to take home to show that I've been to London as well. Stuart bought me a T-shirt with the tube station map on it - very useful for finding our way – and to remind me about the fun we had going underground...

Our ride on the London Eye was only scheduled for the afternoon so we walked a lot to bide the time and see the tourist sites again. We bought sandwiches at a Boots chemist – that was a new one to me because I did not know that you could get food at a chemist shop – and very reasonably priced too. That's where my local "tour guide" who knew the ropes came in very handy!

Our walk took us past Whitehall and the Horse Guard parade, which is now open for the public (a first for Stuart also); 10 Downing Street; Parliament Square and Westminster Abbey. We had another rest under the trees at Parliament Square and then across Westminster Bridge to meet Kerry at the London Eye. The London Eye is a huge Ferris wheel 57 storeys high that provides one with more than an eagle's eye view of London. The ride takes about one hour! We had the most perfect day for doing this and could overlook London as far as the eye could see with Stuart and Kerry pointing out famous landmarks. It also gave us enough time to talk to Kerry and I delighted in the ambiance that flowed between these two young people. Their cheerful banter and Stuart's playful interaction with this young girl made me feel 21 years old again. After the ride on the Eye we went to Covent Garden again to have a last look at the street artists before it was time to say goodbye to Kerry and return home.

By that time I really felt my age! I was exhausted and only too glad to have the opportunity to sit down in the train. During the train ride back I felt as if I was keeping guard!! Everyone around me was asleep!! Stuart also!! He did not even notice me taking a photo of him as sleeping beauty and only woke up when his cell phone fell from his hand!

What however amazed me more was that it seemed as if everyone was asleep but whenever the train stopped, they miraculously woke up at the exact time when they needed to disembark!! I could not figure out how they do that so I just stayed awake to make sure that we got off at the right station LOL!

Part Ten - Conclusion

Memories and raw emotions

In Hitchin I had the privilege to meet Stuart's wonderful family. His parents returned home from a holiday in Spain three days before my departure. From the moment I met them I knew from whom Stuart inherited his sense of fun and laughter! It was in their genes! Moments after I met his mother I could picture this smiling woman pouring out all her love and caring to a deaf little boy. She told me about the five miscarriages she had before he came along and how guilty she felt about having to spend so much time with him as compared to his two elder sisters. She also mentioned that from this guilt she also probably spoiled the girls too much to make up for the time that she spent with Stuart. To me it was obvious that this woman could never give enough love and it was through her caring and compassion that I had the privilege to meet and get to know three very fine young people and their wonderful parents who took me into their hearts and home as if I deserved similar love! The limited time spent with this fine family was packed with fun, hearty, home-cooked meals and much laughter! I did not want to leave because it felt as if I had to stay with them! I made them promise that they would all come to visit me in South Africa. We talked about politics and the crime situation and wild life and the South African scenery and shared jokes. So much so that Stuart's mother even started phoning travel agents at some stage before I said goodbye to them.

As the end of my journey drew closer it was as if fear started gripping my heart. At the time I did not yet realise what a huge emotional impact my last experiences on this journey would have before I returned home. Sub-consciously I was already preparing myself for a very, very sad goodbye but first there was more fun to be had and more beauty to behold… The immediate environment had much in store to be explored.

On a lovely sunny, summer Sunday Stuart and I visited Knebworth House – a stately English country estate in nearby Hertfordshire. He took me along winding country roads passing green pastures and golden wheat fields, dodging pedestrians walking their dogs and gently giving way in the narrow lanes to people on horseback before we entered the access road that brought the house, which looked more like a castle, in view through a lane of huge oak trees. As we came closer, the impressive gates, turrets and gargoyles stirred up images of Victorian ladies sitting at their embroidery frames working on intricate tapestries waiting for the men to return from the hunt with the dogs.

Upon our entry a lovely formal garden invited me to sit on a bench near a lily pond to smell the roses! We commenced our walk, guide map in hand looking for a pet cemetery, a herb garden, a maze and more. Our walk took us along colourful shrubs, over small bridges and past immaculately "manicured" trees eventually finding the somewhat neglected and disappointingly drab pet cemetery. I delighted in finding my way through the small maze and sat on a bench looking at the butterflies and again noticing how much bigger the English bees are in comparison to our South African ones. Then Stuart found another bench in the herb garden where we again had a sip from our cold drinks, watched the butterflies and could not resist crushing some herb leaves between our fingers to pick up the fragrance. All the time I was also clicking away with my digital camera again testing Stuart's patience with my urge to take pictures of everything. I think I could hear him utter a sigh of relief when I was not allowed to take pictures inside the house! LOL

Once inside he could hardly get me away from admiring the antique hand made tapestries and marvelling at the time it must have taken to complete them. The life size paintings of Victorian ladies dressed in crinoline in the picture gallery leading to the bedrooms on the first floor stood in stark contrast against the latest painting of the youngest generation of the family. It was a painting of four teenagers leaning against the stair rails dressed in denim jeans almost as if they mocked their ancestors with their "cool" attire! What a delightful difference! I also could not help smiling at Stuart's exclamation: " Heck these people REALLY loved themselves!"

Then we walked to the parish church on the estate past two archers practicing their skills on one of the vast green lawns. We sat down for a rest under one of the giant oaks to escape from the blistering heat of the sun – not talking much – just enjoying the beauty of the day. It was still early afternoon and we then decided to pick up Stuart's friend Maria and go to Cambridge.

Cambridge provided another trip down memory lane for me. I was surprised to find how many of the ancient buildings I remembered from a trip many years ago – the narrow cobbled streets, the interesting facades with rows and rows of chimneys and the impressive college buildings. One nowadays has to pay an admission fee to enter the Colleges and we just did not see fit to do that but naughtily slipped in through a back door into the quadrangle of Trinity College to render me yet another opportunity to take some pictures of course! We also had a snack and a drink in a typical English tearoom and could not resist buying some delightfully unhealthy cakes to take home!

Then we decided that it was going to be much easier to see the most of Cambridge in the shortest time by going punting on the river. We negotiated with an ex South African student to buy the tickets and I even got a chance to speak a little bit of Afrikaans again. We opted not to do attempt the punting ourselves when we saw how crowded the river was. I had a few anxious moments getting onto the shallow vessel when I realised that my balance was still not what it used to be before my implant and I had a fear of plunging into the water with my babblebox but with the assistance of Stuart and Maria managed to get in without too much trouble! Our punter, a young Swedish guy, expertly steered us along the river and under the many beautiful bridges to avoid the other less experienced punters. Some of them actually ended up falling into the river much to the delight of everyone observing their dilemma. Again time sped by with much laughter and fun and too soon it was time to return home as the twilight settled in filling our hearts and minds with beauty and joy.

The most memorable visit of my trip came up next. Stuart invited his boss, Pat – a lady about the same age as me – to accompany us to Althorp. None of us had been there before and I had a hunch that this trip would be an emotional one for me. Not so much because of the sad circumstances of Princess Diana's death but rather because I so vividly remembered how my late husband and I watched her funeral on TV at a time when he was also on the last stretch of his life's journey. The memories started flooding in when we left for Althorp on the first overcast day since my arrival in England. It was as if the weather matched the solemnity of what was in store for us at Althorp.

We first visited the exhibition called "Diana – a celebration". I thought this was somewhat of a misnomer when I saw the many mostly older women and young girls tearfully exiting the exhibition hall. It was as if time fell away when we entered the dimly lit exhibition halls. Apart from the exhibits themselves every room featured a huge video screen depicting scenes from her childhood; her marriage; some of her elegant clothes; the funeral and eventually leading to a gallery with numerous books that were signed by people from all over the world at the time of her death.

So far so good. I still had my emotions intact until we entered the room where the exhibits from the funeral were displayed. As one enters an overwhelming scent of flowers literally enfolds you. The floor of this room is covered with a heap of potpourri almost a metre high! The sadness of it all is overbearing! People stood crying while watching scenes of the funeral on the huge video screen. We all cried!! However – I did not cry for Diana – I cried about my own lost love! I simply could not contain myself! It was as if Hennie was right there beside me.

This feeling of sadness prevailed as we did a quick tour through the house and walked off to the lake and the Diana Memorial. The path to the lake leads along giant trees and immaculate lawns – a beautiful park leading to the tranquil lake surrounded by the path interspersed with benches where people sat silently looking at the island lost in their own thoughts. Others followed the path around the lake and some left flowers at the Memorial silently crying. I was not sad anymore – only quiet. It felt wrong to talk. I sat for a long time looking at two swans trying to take pictures of them, lost in my own thoughts, before we eventually walked back. Before going home we had a drink at the restaurant and managed to get ourselves in the right mood to take up Pat's kind offer to buy us dinner at a pub on our way home. Lord Spencer was autographing a book that he wrote and much to Stuart's dismay he refused to sign the cheaper book I bought even after I told him that I was from South Africa where he used to live some time ago. We then departed and found a quaint, typically English pub called "The Dusty Fox" nearby to end a particularly memorable and soul–searching day.

But for me it was not the end of the emotional roller-coaster yet. After we got back home in Hitchin the sad feelings of the day emerged again and got the better of me embarrassingly leaving me in tears. Then Stuart came to the rescue and we had a loooong talk. I poured out my heart to rid myself of a deep sense of loss and longing. I realised that I had come to another fork in the road and that my life would never be the same again. The healing was almost complete and I had to come to closure about Hennie's death. After much talking I suddenly realised that I understood the meaning of the word "forever" for the first time… Like Diana my Hennie was gone forever but my caring young friend helped me to make peace within myself and to close the book. Now it was time to go home.

My flight back to South Africa was scheduled for 05:30 in the morning. I hardly slept that night. That last evening I made some pancakes for dinner with maple syrup that I brought along from Canada. We were quiet and caught up in our own thoughts once again when we departed shortly after two o' clock the next morning to Heathrow airport. It was raining as if England was crying to see me go. We could not talk in the car because it was still dark and I silently sat watching Stuart singing along with the music (that I could not appreciate) coming from the CD player. Once again in my heart I marvelled at the wonder of sound that his CI brought back to him. It filled me with deep gratitude that I had the opportunity to get to know him better.

On the plane back to South Africa I wrote a long story in my diary wishing him many wonderful CI moments and opportunities to fulfil his dreams and remember the sunshine of the times that we shared. I knew that some day when I am old and reaching the end of my new journey I would still remember his playfulness and open, dimpled smile. A fine young man who filled the days with laughter and fun and who took me around a strange bend in the road. As the arid plains of the Sahara desert disappeared from the view obscured by some cotton wool clouds, it all felt like a dream that should never have ended. I longed to give them all one last tight hug but my arms were empty and my heart was aching with the desire to meet them all again some time in the near future…

The first e-mail message that I received from Stuart after I returned home jerked me back to long hot summer days in England with the lyrics from the Abba song "Our last Summer." The words of verse two ringing clear…

In hindsight I know that my emotional experiences and moods in England was a culmination of deep feelings of gratitude for so much love and caring that was bestowed upon me not only by my dear friends in England but by so many people that I met in such a short time. More than ever I know that it is only amongst my Deaf/HOH/CI friends that I will find this very special brand of understanding, belonging, love and caring. My dearest friends, therefore I thank you all once more for being an integral part of my life. My new emotional road ahead is brightened every day by knowing that our friendships will last for a long, long time … forever…

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