How best to bond with a teenage boy? When my son, Hugo, finished his A-levels, I knew I wanted to “take a journey” with him, to have some sort of final trip before he left home. Ideally a journey that would leave both of us with a few happy memories.
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Easier said than done: a midlife woman and a teenage boy are completely different beasts. I wanted to walk. He wanted to be driven. I wanted to get up early. He wanted to sleep in. I wanted unusual food. He wanted pub grub. I wanted to be safely active. He wanted to lie on a sofa or scramble along a vertiginous precipice. I wanted conversation. He didn’t (at least not with me, hour after hour). The problem of where to go seemed insurmountable.
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But there was one activity we both enjoyed: making and building things. Could this be the answer to our “bonding” trip? When I suggested we do a three-day stone-carving course on the South Downs and then a wood-turning class deep in an East Sussex forest, he nodded.
We could spend our days together, but not conversing. The start time would be somewhere between his and my preferred rising hours. Our creative endeavours could be interspersed with eating at pubs that catered to each of our food preferences. And the travel requirements were minimal. We would base ourselves at my mum’s in Lewes (but there’s a great choice of local accommodation, including a youth hostel in a converted Sussex farmhouse in Southease on the South Downs that offers options from private rooms to bell tents). To boot, we may come away with more than just a few memories. Conran-ish wooden bowls and Hepworth-ish stone sculptures swum before my eyes. Yes, this could work, we agreed.
Annabel Abbs and her son’s creations. Photograph: Annabel AbbsTo our surprise, a crowd arrived for the ‘private viewing’ in which our sculptures were publicly praised by the tutors
And so, with a little trepidation, we turned up at the Skelton Workshop just after Hugo’s last A-level exam. In a hidden crevice of the South Downs, not far from Hassocks, the Skelton stone-carving studio is near the home of the eminent, deceased sculptor and letter-cutter, John Skelton (students can visit Skelton’s nearby sculpture garden during courses). The vast barn-style workshop looks over slanting vineyards which also contained – to our surprise and delight – a very cool wine bar and restaurant. The Artelium wine estate offers vineyard tours and tasting sessionsand, having discovered that the wines had won multiple awards, its alfresco terrace became our lunch spot (charcuterie boards and homemade bread) for the next three days.
Artelium vineyard and restaurant
But first we had to choose whether we wanted to carve letters or sculpture. We both opted for sculpture. We then had to make another decision: what sort of stone? Hugo chose a beautiful green granite, while I selected a large block of Italian soapstone. Being disorganised, neither of us had arrived with any ideas. The course tutors provided books to inspire us and – after a little discussion with our eight fellow students – we both decided to go abstract. After three days of open-air chiselling, hammering, sanding and polishing, we had sculptures deemed good enough for the end-of-course show. To our (continued) surprise, a crowd arrived for the “private viewing” in which our sculptures were publicly praised by the tutors. We celebrated with an evening meal in The Gun, a gastropub in Chiddingly that serves stone-baked pizzas and something it calls a “gut-loving burrito bowl” composed of sweetcorn, black beans, guacamole and all the other things anathema to Hugo but much-loved by his mother.
As sunlight poured through the foliage above us, wood chips whizzed through the grainy air and sweat ran from our brows
The next day, we drove 30 minutes east, to a privately owned woodland just outside Battle. Here, we hoped to master the ancient art of wood- turning using pole lathes, now a heritage craft. Green woodworker Amy Leake – youthful, petite, impressively muscled – had set up our pole lathes beneath the shade of a vast, spreading oak. After introducing us to our lathes (simple contraptions Amy made herself, in which sawn branches, rope and a treadle turn the wood), she showed us how to axe an enormous chunk of wood into something that would ultimately become a bowl. As sunlight poured through the green foliage above us, wood chips whizzed through the grainy air and sweat ran from our brows. Turning on a pole lathe requires strength, stamina and skill. Thanks to Amy’s expert guidance, by the end of the day we were the proud (if exhausted) owners of two beautiful bowls.
Crazy golf in Hastings. Photograph: LH Images/Alamy
To recover, we headed to nearby Hastings for fish and chips on the beach followed by a game of crazy golf on the sea front. Tired after all that treadling it was then back to Lewes for some well-deserved sleep.
I’m looking at our (proudly displayed) sculptures and bowls as I write. They always make me smile. Not because I see the embryonic makings of two artistic geniuses, but because they remind me of the connection Hugo and I made while working with our hands, of the shared blood, sweat and laughter. Besides, the bowls are perfect for serving crisps. I’ll take that over a string of digital photographs any day.
Skelton Workshops is running a three-day beginner’s workshop from July 29-31 for £216 including all materials. Amy Leake runs a range of green woodworking classes (£200 for two people per day) including brush-making and spoon-carving