Alea iacta est

I’ve been putting this off in one way or another for a while – no real reason – but I have now booked a trip to the UK with my father running through the last three weeks of May. Airline has been booked, but we still have to figure how and where we will travel after we land. There are relatives to be seen and old haunts to revisit, but after that, it’s all up in the air.

I spent the first ten years of my life in Leeds, which at the time was a grimly industrial city – or at least it seemed so to me. I’ll be interested in seeing to what extent fifty years has modified that view.

I’m also one of those sad souls who spend time digging into their family history, and I know that much of the nineteenth century was spent knocking about Yorkshire, but with a strong base in York and its environs. I want to visit some of the places which would have meant something to my great-great-greats, and perhaps take a little time to look at the original church records and figure out exactly where the family was in the years prior to 1800.

Finally, having spent my teen and subsequent years in a land where written history is a skin on the deep time of undocumented life, I want to visit some of the places which I have read about, places where written history was being made long before I was born, and where I can reach out and touch something of recognisable antiquity.