Goat & Grass Café, Saffron Walden, England
On not knowing where I’m going
Getting lost has been something I do quickly. Whether travelling in my own backyard or the Mekong Delta, I have a vague idea of where I am and try to stay on track. Yet time and again, I fail to arrive at my destination. My family, infallible navigators all, find this incomprehensible.
‘Surely you want to know where you’re going?’ they ask.
The truth is, I don't mind. If I'd known where I was headed, I probably wouldn't have gone there in the first place. The joy of travelling is not being too sure where you are but when you arrive, perhaps somewhere you always imagined you knew very well, you discover, as the poet said, that ‘ you know the place for the first time.’
For individuals who have little sense of direction and often find themselves lost, the picturesque market town of Saffron Walden is ideal. It is perfectly suited for exploration because the town is famous for its four mazes. Where better to wander about than in a well-designed maze? The mazes in Saffron Walden include the ancient Turf Maze, the Victorian yew hedge maze, the Jubilee Garden Bandstand Labyrinth, and the Swan Meadow Maze. The Turf Maze, more accurately described as a labyrinth, is one of the largest in Europe. Its age and intricate paths are impressive. As you navigate the Turf Maze, you can see its pathways, which helps your head to guess where you are, even if your feet have no idea.
But if I am destined to lose my way, then I’d rather do it well. For me, the Victorian yew hedge maze in Bridge End Gardens is ideal. It was planted in the middle of the 19th century and looks like the mazes I’ve tried to navigate in Italy and failed utterly.
Yew hedge maze, Bridge End Gardens, Saffron Walden
The route to the heart of the Yew Hedge maze is fiendishly hard to find. The guidebooks advised sticking closely to the hedge on the left and making my way by trial and error until I reached the centre. I’ve never been good at either left or right-hand manoeuvres.
With each step into the maze, the towering leafy walls seemed to close in, leading me to yet another dead end or one-way path. Others in the maze appeared equally disoriented. However, unlike them, I did not experience their level of frustration. For once, I felt that I was exactly where I needed to be. Mazes are designed to challenge even those with an innate sense of direction. At least I was aware of my situation - I was lost once again.
The old saying goes that any road will do if you don't know where you're going, but I disagree. Being lost can make you reflect on your own shortcomings, just as the Egyptians and Greeks built mazes for introspection. In Greek legend, Theseus kills the Minotaur at the heart of the maze but needs Ariadne's thread to find his way out again. Medieval churches sometimes had miniature mazes as symbolic pilgrim routes for those who couldn't afford real pilgrimages, with penitents navigating them on their knees as a form of repentance. Package pilgrimages for needy pilgrims, cut-price travel good the soul.
I knew it was time to call it quits when lost in the green and leafy depths of the Yew Hedge maze, I heard, somewhere ahead of me, a child say, ‘I’ve found it, here I am !’ A kindly couple, heading the other way with the confident look of those who have cracked the puzzle, acted as my pathfinders. I exited the maze easily enough but with a slight regret.
I believed I could navigate my way back to my hotel in the centre of Saffron Waldon. It started to rain when I began my walk. By chance, I found myself in front of a café called The Goat and Grass. Considering the increasing rain, I decided to go inside.
The Goat and Grass Saffron Walden Essex
The Goat and Grass was crammed to its walls and windows with mothers, babies, grannies, kids, prams, strollers and highchairs and streaming mounds of rain-stained Macs. Waitresses ricocheted around the room like billiard balls. Tables groaned under bacon butties, teapots, leaky ice creams, baked potatoes, and crumbling bricks of chocolate cake. Over it all hung an air of steamy content, compounded of damp woollens, hot teapots and dozing dogs, laid out to dry like foot rugs. No map would have walked me into this living tableau, so effortlessly itself.
I lived for many years in England but found it impossible to picture. Maps may take you to destinations but they cannot surprise you with the essence of a place. I knew as soon as the rain stopped and the room emptied, that all of it would vanish. But in that moment, I could be nowhere but in England, gathered all at once, in the Goat and Grass and I found my way there by getting lost.
Christopher Hope