Beer: an intoxicating beverage or a little seaside town?

The gorgeous Jurassic Coast

The title is a trick question. The answer is both! But for all intents and purposes in this post, I am referring to the latter. Two weeks in the picturesque English countryside, that sounds lovely, does it not? That's what I thought as our large coach bus squeezed through the small roads of Beer and the townspeople popped out their heads to watch us go by. We dragged our luggage up a very steep hill and beheld our cozy youth hostel completes with a scenic view and a lovely breeze. As Celia in As You Like It said, "I like this place. And willingly could waste my time in it." Two weeks of intensive classes ensued with 17th Century Literature, Jane Austen, Travel Writing and Literature in Place picking up at full speed. I started reading Paradise Lost by John Milton, re-watching the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice (for class, see my last post), trying to compose a coherent travel essay about cathedrals and having intelligent discussions with our "Shakespeare dream team" as Carolyn has nicknamed us. The studying and paper-writing was broken up by hikes along the Jurassic Coast, dipping my toes into this side of the Atlantic Ocean, shopping at local craft fairs and reading The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (purely recreational reading). It was a good two weeks but we were all ready to leave by the time it was over. We had exhausted the pleasures and interesting places of Beer and the other towns nearby and were prepared to move on.

Exploring the Beer quarry caves

It was a bit of a weird and yet fascinating experience to be in a town so similar the one I live in at home. I understood how the colonists saw the old country in America and why they called the area they settled in, “New England”. Beer, Devonshire and Hillsborough/Deering, New Hampshire aren't that different from each other in many ways. Both are small towns that are dotted with rock walls, have a very small main street area, are surrounded by hills and trees and farms and pastures are prevalent around both. However, Hillsborough/Deering's closest body of water is a reservoir not a beach and we don't have such spectacular views of the ocean and cliffs. It was an odd experience because Beer felt familiar and yet I still felt like a stranger there. I understood the small town feel but because I was a tourist and not British, I didn't feel like I fit in. The cultural barrier still existed despite the fact that we spoke the same language. After a few weeks immersion in British culture, I was beginning to be accustomed to it but by no means taken for a native. It was a weird tension between the familiar and the unfamiliar. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’ve never come across that kind of tension before and it initially puzzled me and still does.

Seaside portrait by Ciera Horton Photography

I understand the feeling of not being at home but the feeling of being at a place very like home and yet not is strange to me. Perhaps a sense of placelessness hit me. It causes me to question where and what is home? Now that I no longer live “at home” and I am spending very little time there this summer, what is the significance of the place that I call home? I believe that the old saying, “home is where the heart is” is true. But my heart is divided into so many different places, particularly now between Wheaton, IL and Deering, New Hampshire. Is my home then everywhere? I want a sense of solidity and firmness because my personality likes stability but my home is constantly changing and I am forced to look to God, my Father, to be my home. He will never leave me nor forsake me and He is always ready to welcome me no matter where I go. He invites me to make my home in His arms and heart. The question is, will I take Him up on it?