Travel blogs are supposed to be about exciting destinations and amazing journeys, but there is one essential element that is frequently overlooked – the place where it all begins. For almost everyone, that place is home. My home is the beautiful Surrey market town of Staines.
Why write a blog post on Staines? Is it really that special? Well, to me it is. But more importantly, to enjoy far away places, it’s necessary to first enjoy what is closer to home. To appreciate new countries and cultures, it helps to also appreciate one’s own familiar surroundings. Travel is not just an escape from the ordinary and everyday, but a way of appreciating the ordinary and everyday in a new and exciting way. Home is a destination too. To appreciate home gives the traveller two things – first, it gives you something to miss. Secondly, it makes the return journey as fun as the journey out.
A view of Staines
When, in 2011, the Vicar General (the Archbishop’s deputy who does all his unpleasant tasks) told me that I would be moving to Staines, I was not exactly over-excited. And when I shared this news with others, the most frequent comment was “So what did you do wrong?”. Back in the 1950s one of my predecessors, Canon Cuthbert Collingwood, was sent to Staines as punishment after upsetting the then Cardinal. I wondered what I had done to upset the current one.
I had heard of Staines before, in fact I may even have been here, but if so, it must have been decidedly unmemorable. A Mickey Mouse of a town, close enough to London to have any distinct identity, but too far away to feel it’s urban buzz, an appointment to be Parish Priest of Staines sounded like a posting to Siberia. After all, what kind of people could possibly live in a place like this.
Despite, or maybe because of these thoughts, my arrival in Staines at the start of September 2011 was the most wonderful surprise. As I emerged from the station, there, right opposite me was the church – yes, right outside the railway station. I could barely believe my luck. I could see the trains from my bedroom, I could hear them when I presided at Mass, I could go to sleep lulled by the reassuring clatter of the Windsor train over the pointwork. It was like heaven on earth.
It didn’t take long to discover that there was more to Staines than trains. The town centre featured a good variety of shops and amenities (you could even do your food shopping there back then), the residential areas were extremely pleasant, the the River Thames (“Oh, I didn’t know you had the Thames there”) would give Henley or Marlow a run for its money. Best of all, however, were the people. It was a town with a village-like atmosphere and it didn’t take long before you realised that everyone, in fact, knew everyone. Those who moved to Staines in the years since have often commented on friendly neighbours and general feeling of safety and contentedness.
Staines lies in the borough of Spelthorne, a weird entity that is technically in Surrey, but is very much the ‘odd one out’. Spelthorne is what was left of the old county of Middlesex, before Greater London ate most of it up. The ‘left-over bit’ could have become part of Greater London too, but instead was given to Surrey. As a result, the area has a bit of an identity crisis. My sister (who lives in Dorchester) calls it ‘London’. Some of the older locals insist it is still Middlesex (like Russians who hanker after the USSR I suppose). I just think of the area as Staines and some houses between reservoirs.
The unique history and geography of the area has made the town of Staines a bit of a backwater in many ways. For most residents, this is one of its most attractive features. No one ever dreams of living in Staines – people just end up here. I have very few weddings, as newly married couples prefer to start off somewhere glamorous and then only move here when they need a bigger house for the kids. They are then very surprised to find out how pleasant it is.
Socially and politically, Staines is very English and rather conservative. The proportion of those born outside the UK is low, and the most people vote Conservative. In fact it is such a safe seat that local Tory candidates can afford to keep a low profile in the area. The English, rather conservative populace ensured that Spelthorne was one of the areas that really did overwhelmingly support the Brexit vote – and I’ll leave you guess what I think about THAT.
The parish community is rather different. The Catholic Church has always been an immigrant Church and here is no exception. If only the Catholic population of Staines could vote, I’d guess that both the general election and the Brexit vote would have had very different outcomes. We are an international community, with Spaniards, Poles, Brazilians, Columbians, Italians, and many other nations represented. I am rather proud of this community and I feel that Staines is enriched because of us.
There is a lot more that could be said about this fine city. But why not come and see for yourself. Who knows, it may be the starting point for great adventures in your life too.
‘I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it.’ – Paul Theroux
Notes from the Buffet Car 