Bath behind us, adventure ahead; we drove off to the next portion of our trip. The town of Hungerford proved to be the midpoint between where we were headed (ultimately London) and a must-see stop— Jane Austen’s family home in Chawton. Before we arrived at this quaint town there were a few places we had to visit; Stourhead Gardens and Stonehenge.

To be honest, we just drove by Stonehenge. The price of entry was much higher than we wanted to pay.  If we had more time walking instead of the bus drop-off would have helped with the cost but driving by allowed us to check this off the bucket list, which was enough for us. More importantly it allowed us to spend more time exploring the gardens at Stourhead National Trust. 

What are these gardens and what do they have to do with Jane Austen? 

I’m so glad you asked. 

There is a certain scene in the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice. An iconic moment where the cold English clouds are pouring forth abundant rain. Rain that showers Mr. Darcy and Ms. Elizabeth, who are thrown together like thunder and lightning. Crashing into each other with the violent clashing of their different stations in life. The clash of their pride and prejudice.

It is the scene where Mr. Darcy’s first profession of love (despite all his efforts and best judgment to ignore the feelings) meets Ms. Elizabeth’s feisty indignant response. Where Mr. Darcy’s pride is misjudged by a prejudiced Ms. Elizabeth’s misconstrued conclusions. 

And the kiss that almost was.

The tension riddled “almost” connection that had all of us viewers leaning in to close the space. 

This is one of the most memorable scenes in the entire movie and it was captured at the Pantheon in Stourhead National Trust.

Had the Pantheon not been there, this National Trust was still worth visiting. Jackie and I set off following the main trail that wrapped around the main lake of the park. Every side trail inviting us to explore a middle portion of the park. 

When we found the trail that led to our destination, it wound up the side of a sloping hill. We ducked under moss covered arches and trekked up steps that wove through the forest, till we rounded one last bend and set eyes on this beautiful structure.

(We of course pretend to be Mr. Darcy and Ms. Elizabeth but that video footage is reserved for close friends and family ;p)

Park properly explored, Jackie and I continued our travels and headed off to our AirBNB.

Nestled in a lush English garden, right on the border of a small river lay our cozy cabin. The price was fabulous and it was hosted by a vibrant Englishwoman, who reminded me of an English Jamie Lee Curtis, we instantly felt at home.

Our evening was spent munching on a homemade charcuterie board (complete with fresh berries from our host) as we listened to the calming sounds of the flowing river. 

*We also listened to the horrible cries of the watchdog peacocks across the river but that’s besides the point.

The next morning we rose and began our left sided drive to Chawton, Hampshire. Through the rolling hills of the English countryside we drove coming to stop in front of a two story brick cottage. The cottage Jane Austen called home for the last 8 years of her life. 

The four walls that housed the author we love, the space that sheltered her as she wrote, edited and revised all of her six complete novels.

To walk where she walked. 

To sit in the garden she tended.

To stand in the house that she called home…for me this was the highlight of our trip.

And to see where she wrote. To stand next to Her actual writing desk; a small round wooden table, tucked away in a nondescript corner of the house. So insignificant, this tiny side table, that held such heavy words from such a mighty pen. 

For Jane it was not the desk, or the house, that dictated her quality of word. Hers was a mind of wit and depth, one that dreamt of love and relationship with a vibrant imagination. It was the vibrancy of life around her. The dreams of Counts and Lords holding balls and serving course dinners, falling in love with unlikely partners. These stories poured from her pen no matter what size the desk looked like. No matter what the reaction to a female author would be.

I don’t know if It was because I imagined something grand. A solid writing desk with gold inlay and a leather writing chair. Somehow in my mind her writing space would be as grand as her words. But walking through her quaint cottage humanized her presence in such a beautiful way. 

Her small writing desk took away all the excuses I tell myself. Excuses of why I don’t write more, create more, hunker down at work at my craft. It is not the space that creates the work, it is the person. It is what Jane carried, a gift from God that is still giving to the masses even after her passing. To see this, as an artist, lit a fire in my heart to create fresh and keep at the front of my mind how this small table held such great works.

For me this was the top highlight of our trip.

And there were MANY highlights.

Jackie and I spent the day in Chawton. After exploring every nook of Jane’s house we headed up the road to her brother’s estate. 

The Old Kitchen Tearoom

People surmise that it was her brother’s wealth, his balls, his ties to high class society, that fueled her imagination and filled her books. There was a wedding so we didn’t get to be as nosy as we were in the cottage, but we were both grateful to walk the grounds. After eating a late lunch at the Chawton House tea room we walked back to our car and set off for one last stop.

Basildon Park. Home of Mr. Bingley’s house; Netherfield (in the BBC version of P&P)

https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/oxfordshire-buckinghamshire-berkshire/basildon-park

Confession: We arrived at the park too late, the gates were closed. We both let out a loud “NOOOO” as we rolled up to the locked gates. Not one to be deterred, I instructed Jackie to drive around the outskirts of the park. Surely we could catch a glimpse of the house.

We headed left, down a hedge lined side road, praying we wouldn’t run into a car headed our direction (because there was no left side to stick to…just one side and we would surely hit whoever was headed our way.). Realizing we were headed past the park and into someone’s farm we quickly turned around.

By quickly, I mean Jackie performed a 20 point turn as I laughed (she did great and we didn’t fully fall in the ditch). And we were about to head home when I noticed another road parallel to the park on the right side. Determined to see SOMETHING we headed up that road and came to a splendid opportunity.

Another gate to the park.

This one open.

This one with an “exit” sign in front of it.

But an open gate might as well have a welcome sign in front of it (If I’m reading it that is). To Jackie exit means you do not enter (she’s so literal ;p). Sooo… after much persuasive pleading I convinced Jackie to enter the exit (*insert proud friend moment)

Now, this is a story true to our friendship. Jackie is the reluctant Ron to my Harry antics. She is constantly saying yes to my rule breaking tendencies but so far her yes has led to many great stories. This time was no different.

We rolled in the exit, me plotting my story if we were caught “silly American who just wandered in and is so sorry for breaking any rules”. Jackie frantically scanning for security who was surely coming to arrest us.

As we rolled up the path we crested a hill and found ourselves face to face with the front of Mr. Bingley’s house.

The very front.

As in, the spot they filmed the Netherfield ball entrance scene at.

As in, a road we were most assuredly not supposed to be on, but were SO glad we were.

We pulled up in the exact place the horse and carriage pulled up in the movie. We couldn’t have planned it better (had we planned better). Both of us were too afraid to park the car and get out (as there were no cars in sight and the moment felt beyond surreal). But we did roll to a stop and bask in our adventurous luck.

This adventure wrapped up the third portion of our Jane Austen Adventure and after exiting the correct way, we headed back to our Air BNB to pack and prepare for our final chapter; London.