The Secret to Life…

September 11, 2018September 10, 2018 | Mairead

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(Here’s our spot today, can you see the orange cable running to a box on the left? That’s the free electricity)

Good Morning! Good Morning! Ok, so I asked about sharing the details from our new friend from Ireland…you’ll have to wait for the book, his book, I mean. That could take a while though because he’s going slowly. Denis shared with him the Andy Weir (writer of The Martian) story of getting writing done – send chapters out to readers weekly/monthly/at regular intervals, it puts a bit of pressure on you because you can’t let your readers down! In the meantime I want to share our new friend’s secret to life… enjoy every minute. Every tree, every place to park or sit or stand, every beautiful building, every nice person you meet, enjoy it all. You’ll understand when you read his book why this man might be worth listening to. For now, trust me, he knows what he’s talking about.

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(Here’s the rules and regulations. One I didn’t mention… we can stay three days maximum)

We’ve moved on today, just a few kilometres north of Honfleur. We’re at a very pretty aire with free water and electricity. It’s a popular place but our timing was just right and we got the last spot, campers keep coming in and have to reverse back out again. We feel a little sad for them but also happy for us. I’ve explained aires before but I think there’s no harm in repeating and I’ll take some pictures today to make it clearer.

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(Here’s where you empty the toilet cassette – on the left and on the right the drinking water. Not sure if you can make out the writing on the right panel in white? People sometimes get mixed up and use the drinking water to clean out the toilet cassette – yuck! Here someone has written instructions to make it clearer. We like it best when the drinking water tap is far, far, far away from the toilet cassette disposal!)

In France an aire is a rest area, you see them on the motorways, at home we might call them lay-bys but here they are much bigger, where cars and trucks can stop for a break. They usually have toilets and picnic tables. There are also aires at the motorway services where you get petrol and diesel (and sometimes cafes and restaurants). All that is similar to what we have in Ireland. Camping Car Aires are something new, they are specifically for motorhomes or camper vans and when I say we are staying in an aire for the night I mean a Camping Car Aire. At their simplest there will be spaces long enough for motorhomes to park in a section of a normal car park. More elaborate ones will have a pedestal thingy where you plug your hose in to get drinking water, empty your toilet cassette and dispose of grey water and get an hour of electricity all for a small charge (€2 to €5 typically.).

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(Forgot to mention, rubbish and recycle bins are always free. Thank you again France! Tip: Yellow lid = plastic and tins. Blue lid = paper and card)

The one we are in today has everything, space to park, space to put out a deck chair, drinking water, toilet cassette empty station, grey water disposal drain, electricity and even little hedges between the motorhomes! Sometimes you will have to pay to stay, sometimes you will have to pay for water and usually you will have to pay for electricity. Today, here, everything is free. Thank you, France.

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(Home for tonight looks nicer than some campsites we’ve been in)

Last month we added a couple of solar panels to the top of the camper. I say we because yes I did get up the ladder and help Denis with the installation. As I am generally very afraid of dangerous things (like falling from the top of a camper van) I surprised myself and a few of the passing neighbours. Having the panels means we can survive longer without having to stay in a campsite where electricity is always available. The cost of a night in a campsite can range from €20 which we would rather spend on delicious French food. Also as we travel in off-season, it’s unlikely the campsite cafe or restaurant or swimming pool will be open plus the locations are often far from villages, towns or cities. So all in all being able to use aires most of the time works very well for us.

Again, thank you, France! Mairead.

Cycling to Honfleur

September 10, 2018September 9, 2018 | Mairead

(Lots of boats, tall houses and restaurants in Honfleur)

And now we’re in Honfleur, a very pretty big-ish French town with a port. Well to be precise… we are 40 minutes walk from Honfleur, under the motorway that bypasses Honfleur and beside a small French town called La Riviere-Saint-Sauveur. If that’s a mouthful for you, you’ll understand why I fell asleep when we got here. I think I was tired. By 8pm I was drinking tea, reading a book with my favourite quilt around me and I was ready to go back to bed.

(Nice!)

Then Ian from Ireland arrived. He was telling us he’s been here for a few weeks or maybe it was months and then he started to tell us stories about his life. Like, amazing stories, stuff you might make up but you wouldn’t put in the same book because no one would believe it was real. He’s coming to visit us tonight again so I’ll ask him if I can share with you. As it happens he is writing a book and he has a blog. I’ll find out the details tonight for you.

(Love French windows and balconies)

In between the telling of the stories he told us Honfleur was a beautiful place and just a 15 minute cycle. He must have spotted our bikes on the back and not realised they are just for decoration. (No of course they work.) So this morning we took down the bikes and followed his directions to Honfleur and wouldn’t you know we’d hardly gone two minutes and there he was on the other side of the road cycling towards us. We asked where the bicycle lane was (he’d mentioned one last night) and he said, “no you’ll be grand on the dual carriageway the cars in France are used to bikes!” Well it was ego alone that kept me going forward but when he was out of sight I searched and searched for a bicycle path and there was bits and pieces of a quiet road along the route. So I was on and off the bike climbing over fences and losing Denis. He, Denis, by the way has become very good at the French mannerism of a loud sigh while tilting the head back, lifting the shoulders and turning his palms to the sky. He uses it to complain when I lose him. Luckily he can’t do it while holding the handlebars, so we’re still talking.

(No we didn’t)

Needless to say it took longer than the promised 15 minute cycle but we did eventually arrive in Honfleur and it is very beautiful. I forgot my camera but I took pictures with my phone until the battery died. The journey back was a lot quicker as I came to realise the French do seem to be used to bikes and gave us a wide berth, especially as I wobble a little.

I’m off for another little lie down to get ready for tonight’s stories, Mairead.

Sea Day

September 6, 2018September 6, 2018 | Mairead

(I don’t know where I am…)

We’re on the high seas somewhere between Rosslare in Ireland and Cherbourg in France. Possibly already in the English Channel but can’t be sure. So we’re between places, in transition, not there yet, not started and yet begun.

(Blue is my favorite color, lots on this ship)

It is my joy to know lots of people who are waaay younger than me. I think I like younger people because I never wanted to grow up, to be an adult, to have that haggard oppressed air all adults seemed to have when I was a child. Or it could be that I know how difficult it was for me to make the transition across the space between before-adult and acting-adult, actually I might still be in that space. Or… maybe it’s possibility.

Really young children know possibility. They usually get it knocked out of them when they’ve been in school a couple of years though. But you can re-learn possibility and when you re-learn it you can see it in yourself and in others. It’s a yummy feeling, kinda of sparkly with little pops of joy!

(It’s a bit scary down there…)

I know two waaay younger people who are about to start third level education and I am awash with sparkle and poppy for them! I know their journey might be rocky and messy and scary but it’s also exciting and wonderful and interesting but mainly it’s incredibly beautiful. Because they are incredibly beautiful…

It’s something I learned from standing on the path cheering bus loads of women who had been in Magdalene Laundries… no matter what people say about you, or what you think about yourself, or what you’ve done that seems like a mistake, or what you can’t do that seems like a failure or what you’re afraid you can’t do because you’re not capable, there is at the center of you, an essence, that is pure and white and beautiful and it touches everything you do and all of your journeys.

I wasn’t so sparkly, poppy when it was me… noooo, I was more scared shirtless. I’m sure you’re sick of me telling you I failed third level education, didn’t get the marks, had to leave, no piece of paper, no graduation day. If I had known that failing was just part of my incredibly beautiful journey I might have been kinder, less angry, more patient, less ashamed of myself. It’s very, very difficult to feel sparkly poppy and shame, simultaneously. One kinda pushes the other away and shame is better at pushing.

(The coffee on board may not be great but the cups are an inspiration!)

For today, for me and for you and for those starting new journeys I’m going to give lots of attention to sparkly poppy… because I want it to push stronger.

How about you? Mairead.

On the Road Again!

September 5, 2018September 5, 2018 | Mairead

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(Today I’m at a luxurious secret location having an adventure… Translation: I’m sitting on the bed at the motorway services writing to you)

It has taken us weeks but we finally packed everything into Ruby (the motorhome) and we are on the road to Rosslare and the ferry to France. It depends completely on the weather where we will go after that… warm = stay north, cool = head south. It’s one of the things we like about this way of travelling, no planning required and we can change as we go.

My intention is to blog every day but I have some other things I want to do also. One thing I want to play around with is the idea of publishing a creative workbook – possibly digital so that it can be downloaded. Anyway, all that’s for the future, for now we are parked at the motorway services just twenty minutes from home – you can be having an adventure anywhere! Denis is working and I’m talking to you.

Since the last time I blogged while travelling there’s a new law (GDPR) and I had to be sure to be sure you really, really wanted to get these emails. So if you are getting this by email then you said yes! Thank you! If you’re reading this on Facebook (or someone sent it to you) and you want to get the emails then go to mairead hennessy.com and click (or tap on) the subscribe button. Speaking of Facebook, I used to be able to post automatically there but now it’s a bit more complicated and requires a different page (The Blog) not sure how it will work… If you’re reading this on Facebook, thank you! And could you let me know how you did that! Also, please feel free to share this with anyone you think might be interested.

I know it’s confusing or maybe I’m making it more confusing, apologies! We’ll be moving on soon, the ferry will be leaving at 9pm. This post is scheduled to arrive by email tomorrow morning and in Facebook an hour earlier…

…fingers crossed. Mairead.

I really REALLY need your help!

June 6, 2018June 18, 2018 | Mairead

(My first White Button)

Ok tiny band of people who read this, I need your help to spread a message:

Sew on a White Button!

It’s a long story which I will write soon but I want to get to the point quickly today. There was a reception yesterday in the President of Ireland’s house for more than 220 of the women who worked in the Magdalene Laundries (over 11,000 women worked in the laundries… against their will). You can read his speech here but here’s the line that breaks my heart,

Ireland failed you.

After the meeting with the president six busses and multiple taxis arrived for a reception at the Mansion House in Dublin. I was lucky enough to be standing on the footpath outside the Mansion House as the women and their families arrived. It was the most emotional gathering I have ever attended. The gardai stopped the traffic when the first woman arrived and there was a stillness. Then the clapping began. The clapping continued for an hour until every woman was inside. Then we walked home. I can’t forget these woman. And I don’t want to.

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men (or women) do nothing. Edmund Burke.

(Everyone has a white button lurking in a drawer, right?)

I woke up this morning with a fire in my belly – I don’t want these women forgotten! This is where I need your help. I want you to share the be-japers out of this idea. There is so little we can do but we can do this. Honour these women by remembering them.

Sew a white button for the Magdalenes, any white button, many white buttons, on to your clothes. Anywhere it will be seen. The Bigger the better. To remember, to honour, to start conversations, to share what you remember about that old kind of Ireland (the one before this generation voted for a new kind of Ireland.) Wear it to tell these woman they don’t need to feel shame, they don’t need to hide, they don’t need to stay quiet. Wear it to tell them you will listen and you will remember.

Thank you, Mairead.

PS Why white? A symbol of their beautiful essence untouched by the shaming.

PPS: There’s a website now… whitebutton.ie

Gentle Guide to taking a Journey: Mont Saint Michel

May 25, 2018May 25, 2018 | Mairead

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(Sunset near Mont Saint Michel)

I love Mont Saint Michel, I think you would too. Yes, it’s touristy. Yes, it’s a religious monument. Yes, coffee and a croissant costs more here. But there’s something… something deeply attractive about this place, something worth going out of your way to visit in a gentle way. I once heard a tour guide say the rock part had been there for thousands of years, maybe even a hundred thousand years. That’s an old rock.

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(Mont Saint Michel from 3km away on the bike path near Beauvoir)

We had a long drive from Saint Palais sur Mer on Tuesday morning and we weren’t entirely sure we’d get all the way to Mont Saint Michel. It was hot and we hadn’t started very early and there were road works. But in spite of all that Denis knew I really, really wanted to see it so we kept going. We arrived about five and although we were only 3km away I took off my shoes pulled out a deck chair and had cool drink. Denis stayed in the van and to work. Three hours later we went to get some food, forgetting we were in France. We eventually found a place open and willing to feed us. On the way back we saw the sun set and got a distant glimpse of the Mont.

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(View from the free bus stop at the end of the cycle path)

I thought that was going to be it, we were leaving early next morning and there wouldn’t be time to visit. Next morning came and it turned out we didn’t need to leave early, we really didn’t. We could just about do the drive to Cherbourg, get the work that needed to be done, done and fit everything else in before we sat in a queue for the ferry… if we left at midday. So I set off at nine to walk the 3km. From the moment I saw the little speck of it in the distance I felt it’s draw. There was a mist and I was a long way off but it was unmistakable and I didn’t want to stop until I got there.

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(View on getting off the bus)

Where the land meets the sea, they have built a road and free busses drive along this road all day (and all night if you contact them.) I wanted to try the bus, so I stopped and waited. I had to wait for three busses to pass, they were all full. Each time I wondered if it might be better to walk that last bit but I didn’t, I held out and finally a bus with just enough space stopped and I crushed in with some Canadians.

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(View from just outside the walls)

I was first off and so perfectly placed to take pictures without other people in my shot – the bonus of squashing into a bus. Then I walked through the gates and up the path passed the shops and restaurants. I retraced my steps as I knew I had less than an hour and choose three things to do. I would have loved to write for hours looking out towards the sea or in towards the monuments. I would have loved to sit with a coffee and a croissant feeling the sea breezes.

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(The narrow street)

I would have loved to take pictures from every step and every wall and of every front door. I would have loved to have sent postcards to everyone I know telling them to come visit the Mont Saint Michel. I would have loved to have taken a video of the narrow paths and lanes. I would have loved to have asked the Canadians why they choose to come here. I was free I had one hour and I could do anything but I couldn’t do everything. I choose three things: Coffee. Croissant. Postcard.

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(My view)

First I purchased the postcard. I had stamps from last year. Then I found a cafe that would sell me coffee and croissant. It took three attempts. One was finished breakfast, one had no croissants, one would be open at noon. The fourth had an upstairs with a view out to the sea but there were no seats so I went up to the next floor. My view was of the stone buildings a very long arm’s length away and little birds flying in and out of the window. (With a sign saying: don’t feed the birds, it’s not hygienic.) I wrote some postcards and ate my croissant and drank my coffee.

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(View from inside the walls)

Then it was 11am, time to leave. I walked quickly back down the stairs, along the narrow streets, past the post office, posted the cards, through the gates, along the path to the bus. I was first on the bus this time. I got off at the bike path and turned around to take one final look at the Mont. It was hazy again and small. Then I walked back to the motorhome aire.

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(There’s an angel on top of the cathedral spire)

I would love to tell you: Go visit Mont Saint Michel! If you have a motorhome it’s easy, stay at the motorhome aire in Beauvoir for €12.50 a night. If you don’t… maybe it’s possible to get a cheap Ryanair flight to Beauvais, not take the bus to Paris, but find a bus or train to take you here instead? Maybe you could stay somewhere close by so you can walk each day along by the river to the free bus?

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(Goodbye Mont Saint Michel)

Unfortunately, not everyone can go so instead maybe you would permit me to tell you: Go visit some place lovely! Your favourite forest, cafe, river, park? Walk there or park at the furthest spot and walk from there. Consider what you would love to do. Choose what you could do with the time and resources you have. Then… Do it. Stay in that lovely place until you have to come home… but before you leave take a little look back.

Thank you for joining me on the daily blog, it’s been lovely writing to you xxx Mairead.

Back to normal…

May 24, 2018May 24, 2018 | Mairead

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(French aire)

We crossed the border into France on Saturday and stayed at a French vineyard that night. We thought it might be nice to do a wine tasting and then stay the night but wine tasting happens on Monday to Wednesday and this was Saturday… We had forgotten the France way of life. Everything has a time, if you want lunch at three… you will be hungry. This is good, we will get back to normal quicker now. We stayed the night anyway and availed of their lovely shower and fine electricity, all for €6.

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(Probably not a great parking space)

Next morning we were on our way to Saint Palais sur Mer to visit our friends. The previous day had been spent on motorways and we were determined to see some green French countryside. And we did, in fact it felt like we had moved location to the 1960’s. It was a beautiful sunny Sunday as we passed through crumbly stone villages and agricultural country – mostly vines but also grain crops, like oats and barley. We drove through a small town called Cadillac and there was an old car rally with ancient Peugeots and Renaults and Citroens. Their drivers dressed up and smiling broadly as the wind whipped what hair they had, in all directions.

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(Fishing (sorry can’t remember what they are called) at Saint Palais sur Mer and in the background the lighthouse)

We arrived at A&J’s house at 3.05pm only five minutes late. Great, almost normal. We unloaded ourselves and our washing and proceeded to wash everything. Aren’t friend’s washing machines great? We went out to dinner that evening by bicycle. There’s a great bicycle path all the way to a great restaurant forty minutes away and I got to use one of their electric bikes. It was fun. Denis had to ride his bike… it was a little rusty from sitting on the back of Ruby in the rain. The brakes were making a strange noise which was very effective in keeping the pedestrians off the cycle path. It was very funny… well, three of us thought it was very funny.

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(Breakfast… before the food arrived)

Next morning we had coffee and a Jaffa cake in bed! It’s what happens in their house and that’s before breakfast. While we were waking slowly and acclimatising, J cycled to the town to queue at the boulangerie! Breakfast was a feast of strawberries and cherries, porridge and muesli, croissants with two different kinds of bread, juice, coffee and tea (mint with milk, strangely.) I did get a picture of the table laid but I couldn’t manage to stop myself eating long enough to get a picture of it filled with food.

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(Secret garden at the arty town)

After breakfast we went to visit a very pretty town (they all seem to be very pretty) Mornac near the marches. Even the car park (grass underneath and trees overhead) was pretty. There were loads of arty shops and galleries and nice things to photograph. That night we walked along by the sea to a different restaurant where we ate mussels and watched the waves.

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(Our mussels restaurant. We had seats at the railing near the corner on the left)

We had a long drive next morning to Mont Saint Michel so we set off early. Nah, we didn’t… we had our coffee and Jaffa cake in bed and J cycled back to the town and we had the big breakfast again… then we set off. It was a lovely re-introduction to normal life. Well, it was if I can get Denis to cycle to Tesco for the fruit and croissants and nice bread and the Jaffa cakes… I suppose we’ll have to make up our own normal.

Thank you A&J for letting us play in your normal xxx Mairead.

Ps Quick guide to going on a journey to Mont Saint Michel, tomorrow.

Just leaving France now…

May 23, 2018May 23, 2018 | Mairead

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(Tourist Office in Palencia)

We’re still on our journey home but only just. As I write we’re sitting in a supermarket car park in Cherbourg, less than twenty minutes from the ferry and almost the last bit of the journey home. We’ll soon be moving over there to get into the queue. Lots of things, nice things have been happening since I last wrote to you. We stayed an extra day in Palencia, which was lovely, but it meant we had to drive longer between sleepovers. I suppose that’s another difference between the outward journey and the return… the consequences.

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(Old stationery shop)

So I got another chance to walk the streets of the old town and I even visited a very old original looking stationery shop. The owner was a young man, maybe it had been his grandfather’s shop. He was chatting to a friend when I came in looking for blank cards (you remember I ran out of them in Portugal?) Neither of them spoke English but they did everything they could to understand me. The friend guided me to a computer behind the counter and brought up Google Translate for me. I typed, I want to make greeting cards, do you have any blank cards? (Maybe I could have been more eloquent or possibly clearer?) Or maybe no one in Spain makes cards or “blank card” means something completely different. Google couldn’t help. The friend was explaining he would go and get someone who speaks English when I decided maybe this is how my stationery addiction ends. I thanked him multiple times and left empty-handed but kinda joyful.

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(Where are we?)

Next day we drove to another city we hadn’t been in previously, Vitoria Gasteiz. The brochure from the tourist office says it holds the sustainable tourism certification Biosphere… and it has 42 square meters of green space per person who lives here! We were only here for one night but I would love to visit again and see some of the seven parks dotted around the city.

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(The tram runs on grass)

They also have a free motorhome parking and it’s very near their tram system, making the journey into the old part of the city easy peasy. The tram line is set in grass which is surprisingly nostalgic. I think there’s something similar in Krakow. Can’t help saying, Aww isn’t that lovely, even to yourself.

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(Made in Cork!)

I wandered around for hours in the very quiet afternoon and found some Irish pubs. Parts of the city looked like Temple Bar on a sunny Sunday with people sitting outside pubs on the narrow streets. The I found a little cake and coffee shop crying out to me. There were empty tables outside and when I opened the door there was no one inside but the smell was amazing. You remember the smell… you are little, you arrive home from school and there’s a sponge cake baking in the oven? No? Ok, if your Mammy didn’t bake (my Mammy did – thanks Mammy!) then it’s worth your while finding an easy recipe, bake a sponge cake and give yourself the treat of the smell. You don’t even have to eat it!

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(One of the squares in Vitoria Gasteiz)

There was a cake baking. Eventually a young man in an apron came out of the kitchen, he and his girlfriend love to bake and decorate cakes and they run the shop together and bake. Yes the cake and coffee shop was indeed open. I had green tea and lemon drizzle cake (the sponge was still in the oven.)

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(One of the pieces in the Artium, Vitoria Gasteiz)

I wandered some more and found the Modern Art Museum, Artium. Very interesting with a bonus …the names and description of the art was only in Spanish and Basque. This is a bonus because then you can only enjoy the pieces you like and ignore the pieces you don’t with no need to understand someone else’s interpretation. I’ll tell you about our journey through France tomorrow. In the meantime…

…see you in 17 hours, Ireland! Mairead.