Day 12 - Step Back Into Ancient History

Although we had a bit of trouble getting out the door this morning, everything worked out well. We headed over to the Base to fill the car with petrol, and then were on our way to Peterborough, Norfolk. While still in the States Mommy discovered an archeological dig site called Flag Fen, and was excited to take us there.

As usual Mommy was absolutely right, and Flag Fen was a really interesting place. Excavations are still in progress (you could actually watch the archeologists at work in the fen) to dig out the remains of late Bronze Age and early Iron Age settlements. On either side of the fen (a wet, swampy area) are two sections of dry land called the Fengate and the Northey. This is where the settlements are found. Also, the foundations of a Roman road, called the Fen Way, can be seen there.

But the treasure of the site was found in the fen itself, preserved by the slime and mud. 60,000 wooden posts, arranged across the fen, fan out from a huge wooden platform a hectare in breadth. Today, to preserve the posts, they are kept in a controlled-climate (very wet!) building. Still it baffles historians as to why the posts were erected; most believe that they have something to do with a religious ritual of a sort, because all kinds of articles (jewelry, pots, knives, swords, and even dogs) have been found amongst the posts, all deliberately broken. Did these ancient people think that the fen was a window to the other world, and threw things into it for their dead ancestors?

It was truly an amazing and somewhat creepy feeling to stand on the platform and gaze at the 3,000 year-old wooden posts. Talking to Mommy later, I realized that the creepy feeling stems from the fact that we do not know what the posts mean. The room where they were kept had the same hushed and reverent atmosphere as Stonehenge; people that came in after us were “shhh”-ing each other as thought they were entering a church. Were the posts used for some religious ritual? If so, was it a portal to another world or a place to pacify a much-feared god? Or was it simply some prehistoric trash dump? I suppose we will never know for sure.

After “ooohing” and “aaaahing” over the Roman roads – I have done extensive reading about the building of Roman roads – we climbed in the car and started off for our next adventure. With quite a bit of trouble we finally found our way to Grimes’ Graves, a Neolithic flint mine that I have wanted to visit since our trip in 2003. When we drove up there during that trip, the site was closed on account of some excavations.

Our efforts were repaid in full. But I’m afraid that I can’t recommend the site for the site alone, for from the parking lot the place doesn’t look like much: a field of bumpy mounds and a little shop/museum/shed in the center. The true treasure of the site – at least in my eyes – is only temporal.

A young man, glowing with enthusiasm for the history of his country, was our tour guide for Grimes’ Graves. The place literally came alive for us as he told us the story of the site, from how the flint was formed by glaciers to his own personal stories of “babysitting” documentary crews in the mines. He speculated that one mound (the second highest point in Norfolk) may have been the very place where Boadicea rallied her troops to rebel against the Romans.

Before going through the numerous but fascinating things our guide told us about England, I have to digress and drying talk a bit about the history of the site, etc. With our hard hats on our heads, we climbed down a ladder into a 30-foot shaft mined for flint in 3000 B.C. Still visible are some of the huge holes where large chunks of flint were mined with the antler of the local red deer. Stone Age man dug this tunnel in a mere four months.

Around this mine, the only one open to the public, are 433 known mines. I say known, because it is suspected that there are as many as 700 more in the area of Grimes’ Graves. Out of the 433 tunnels discovered already, only 28 of them have been excavated and explored. Much, much more is still to be unearthed regarding the world of over 3,000 years ago.

After exploring the dark, cool tunnels around the main shaft we all climbed back up the ladder. For about an hour we continued to talk to our guide, Jason, about the history of the land. Several things came up in conversation and were explained from the vast knowledge the young man had:

(1) St. George and St. Michael are in actuality the same person. Both are famous for slaying dragons.
(2) There are unexplainable lines going up and down the continent called “leylines”. One runs from St. Michael’s Mount in Cornwall to Mont St. Michel in France. Along this line, oddly, are landmarks and monuments with the name either of St. George or St. Michael the Archangel. Normally explained as an “energy flow” by New Age followers, these leylines remain a mystery much like the standing stones of Stonehenge.
(3) Jason had an interesting theory to offer on what Stonehenge really is. First he told us about an awful tangle of roundabouts (raised on stilts) in England called “Spaghetti Junction” and mused that perhaps two thousand years from now all that would be left of these roundabouts would be the stilts. At that point what was Spaghetti Junction would look like a series of standing stones. Thus, Stonehenge really is an ancient roundabout!
(4) The U.K., he explained, is quite honestly an island resting on a spongy mass beneath. During the Ice Age, a huge glacier covered the Southeast corner of England, and “tipping” the U.K. As a result, thousands of years after the glacier melted, the country is still trying to right itself. Every year the Southeast corner of England rises a tenth of a millimeter, and the Northwest corner of Scotland falls the same amount. Who would have imagined?
(5) Scientists really don’t know how flint is formed. Jason said that it is great asking geologists about that and seeing the “smoke come from their ears”.
(6) The flint mines we saw were 19 times older than the United States, 2.5 times older than Christianity, and many scholars believe that the world did not exist when the mines were built!
(7) Commenting on something I said about England having much more history than America, Jason pointed out that for most Americans, before 1492 our history was Europe’s history. “For one thing”, he said to me, “your red hair suggests that you come from an Irish background, and in turn from a Celtic background. Boadicea herself was known for her mane of flaming red hair.” Here he laughed, and indicated with a wave of his hand the hill he mentioned before where that pagan warrior rallied her troops. “Maybe I don’t want you going up there – you may come back, sword in hand, to kill us all!”

As I write I can feel the color coming into my face. I must admit that, ever since I he started talking, I liked Jason very much. Though he was probably eight or so years my senior, I noted that he was “interested” and the age difference didn’t stop me from “playing the game”. Yes, I shifted my weight from one hip to the other, brushed my hair behind my ear, tossed my head, and laughed at all his jokes. Thankfully this didn’t end in embarrassment (as it usually does when I flirt!) and he responded with compliments and attentions. Quite honestly, I would have happily run away with him right then and there had he asked me (which he wouldn’t have – I only just met him). Looking back, I am a bit ashamed of my girlish heart and how I let it run away with me. At least I know his name; it was fun and exciting while it lasted.

To the chiding comments and teasing of my all-to-wise brother Kenny, who knows me too well, we left Grimes’ Graves and went to meet Daddy at the Super Tesco’s in Peterborough. Daddy is so cute: he loves Tesco’s dearly as his own little “discovery.” It is a store much like a Target in our country. But everything is cheaper there, so I did a lot of my shopping for gifts. It is a sort of family ritual to go to Tesco’s at least twice a week.

Tired and hungry, we arrived at the Lodge and ate our dinner. Thinking about everything we had done and seen (and trying to invent ways to describe the experiences), I got ready and climbed into bed. For the third night Elizabeth slept, curled up in a comforter, on the floor next to me. I love her so much – it is very hard to believe that she is already going to be twelve years old in December. Times goes by so quickly.