I promised to tell you about dinner….

We have arrived, accidentally, at a place that places great attention on the “green life” and slow food. The couple, very tall Arif and petite Marta moved here from Barcelona, he before that from Chicago and before that from Pakistan. They move easily between English, French and Spanish and of course Catalan, and they have to, because last night there were three big tables in their dining room each speaking a different language! Well, the tables weren’t speaking, but the people at the tables were! We were at the English table along with a couple from Scotland (he, she from Singapore) who got married last month and will be getting married again in July….. in church with her family and friends in Singapore! We have more than just English speaking in common, we all attended pre-marriage courses!

 

All the food here is organic and sourced locally. They do not buy at the supermarche. Arif and Marta choose to move here and begin this life where emphasis is on nature and the natural way. They are mentioned in the Alastair Sawdays book Go Slow France and a line from it caught my eye “The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.” Hans Hoffmann. I like that.

Anyway at dinner we are served by our hosts (they eat after we are finished), who put a dish of food in the middle of the table and we help ourselves. I had been reading the welcome book earlier and it suggests taking as much as you want but not so much that you leave some on your plate. I like that too. We started with locally baked bread and a vegetable soup, made from peas, carrots and rice. It was surprisingly tasty considering the ingredients. Next we had (one foot long) sausages from an organically reared local pig and fried potatoes. Even as I’m remembering it my mouth is watering. Attempting to follow the “no food left on plate “principal I took way too little the first time and returned to the communal dish three times, yummy. All this was accompanied by local organic wine. Then the cheese – goats and sheep, local and organic and smelly, I dislike cheese unless it’s melted or well hidden, these were neither so I had some more wine instead. And finally an apple custardy pastry, made by Marta. Afterwards Rooibos tea. We ate and drank and when it was all gone we went to sleep, I like that too.

This morning at breakfast we decided to stay for another night, that means another dinner, yes!

It is late afternoon (our name for 7pm in France because dinner is at 8pm), we are sitting upstairs in a comfy peaceful room overlooking the dining hall, there is jazz music  playing downstairs (feels like home), and they have begun cooking for tonight. I want to convey the sense of peace in this place and I’m not sure I can. The house is an old alpine barn renovated and highly insulated, the roof beams are exposed and some of the stone walls are also. These walls are very thick. Denis is working and I have been washing and hanging clothes outside on the line and sleeping. We have nothing to do and no where to go and everything is peaceful.

We left Girona this morning and headed to the Pyrenees mountains to a place I found while looking for a “casa rural” (thank you, Damian). We have a map but mainly we rely on GPS (Garmin) to find our way, so although we put in a little scenic route we let the GPS do the work. Consider how surprised we were when it started to bring us back over the border into France. And then I remembered booking it…..

The “casa rural”‘s are Spanish homes who take in guests, like a B&B. there are lots of sites on the web that help you find one or book one, but they were all written in Spanish (the ones I found were). I have been doing fine communicating in Spain so far, due completely to the kindness of the Spanish people. I was a little surprised that I could count to five in Spanish and I know how to say please and thank you and goodbye and now I know it’s thanks to my little sister, Moira. She was about three when Sesame Street began on Irish television and her big brother (11 at the time) and sister (me, 12 at the time) used to watch along with her. We were so proud of her when she could recite her alphabet before she was even old enough to go to school! Now I realise, thirty seven years later, I was also learning. I learned all my Spanish from Sesame Street!…

 

Anyway, despite my knowledge of the language I only looked at Casa ‘s that had a translate into English button. And so that’s how I came to choose the one we’re in tonight. I put tin he GPS co-ordinates and thought no more about it.

 

We left Girona, had a little detour to a Spanish village for brunch and planned on arriving at our casa at four o’clock. The closer we got to the French border the more surprised we were. When we arrived back in France, we were amazed (we’re easily amazed). Possible scenarios about mountain roads and such were batted back and forth as we arrived in the French town of Perpignan and took a left turn for Andorra. Well maybe that explains it, we’re going via Andorra? We continued on. And on. Through amazing countryside, Galway-like, Kerry-like, beautiful.

 

At this point it was about three o clock and we would be there in another hour and the scenery became even more dramatic. Through the intercom Denis says, “II think it’s this turn, but it seems to be a factory?” You know, he was right, it was a factory. Something was not right. So we retraced our journey looking for the right turn and as luck would have it we came to a tourist office. Long story a little shorter, the GPS co-ordinates were a little out… 50 kilometers out. Never mind, plenty of time ’till dinner at eight.

We set off again, along the mountain road as the helpful tourist man said. And it was…… well amazing, again (need a thesaurus here). You know those roads you travel along and there’s a sign with a picture of rocks falling down a steep mountain? And you think … well I think, “Sure, right, rocks are going to be falling on a public road, not likely.”. Well… although rocks weren’t falling as we passed, there were plenty of rocks ON the road. And in case you didn’t know, rocks on the road are bad for motorbikes!

I spent most of the 50 km switching between being in awe, taking photos and indicating loudly to Denis to slow down (his max speed never went above 35K/h!)

 

When I was booking it, t turns out I wasn’t paying much attention to what language the web site was translated from. It was French, we’re back in France for the night! We are high in the mountains, we can see snow up further and the temperature dropped to 7 degrees as we rode in at 6.30pm. Turns out there’s a fine big public road with no rocks on it that we can go back to Spain on tomorrow, phew.

Will tell you about dinner and the people we’ve met tomorrow, night, night.

 

Be well, Mairead.

We’re back from our day trip to Barcelona. Up very early (for us), lots of walking and metro- ing (love it, very easy to navigate) and of course the bus tour. Lots of pictures and coffee and green tea (very, very good green tea here).

 

(Picture of Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, doesn’t do justice to it but I love those colourful toppings!)

So we set off this morning to visit Barcelona, letting go of the stories we heard and looking forward to what the day might bring. We got a taxi to Girona station and thanks to our waitress last night we knew the trains were regular and we just turned up. It was easy-peasy! Everyone, everyone speaks English and soon we were on a train speeding south. And the train kept us informed of each stop and the speed we were doing in Spanish, Catalan and English.

(I’m mortified to be getting my picture taken in front of the commuters. – For my Mum – picture of me!)

In Barcelona, got off too soon though and couldn’t find a metro station. But doesn’t a taxi round the corner as we were wondering what to do. So we start with Gaudi’s cathedral.

Amazing Gaudi! Beautiful cathedral, it’s like he was playing. Very playful, fun, happy-making. Huge queues to go inside (we didn’t). This was Gaudi’s dream and it’s still going on, it’s not completed yet, but thanks to anonymous donations it does continue. All church spires point us in the direction of heaven, of the big picture, of the bigger reason, of the more to life – Gaudi’s does this in spades. He knew it would not be finished before his death and it didn’t bother him.

 

(My coffee – verification printed on the cup – 100% Natural!)

Was delighted with all the response about how wonderful Spain and her people are, because we searched for the robbers and thieves and found nothing… bike safe…. computers safe. A case of the rumours of trouble in Spain have been widely exaggerated! Thank you Damien, Viv, Grahame and Naomi for balancing the scales. And we can add our own voices after today.

 

But what’s it all about?…. People tend to want to tell you bad things that might happen to you along your journey. We all do it. Why? To give fair warning? Or we think it will be of help? To teach? To provide information? I don’t  know.. Maybe we don’t realise that it hypnotises the other person with “bad stuff that could happen” fairy dust. When you get hypnotised with “bad stuff that could happen” fairy dust it does some serious messing with your thinking. Those lovely thoughts of freedom and adventure slip away while you think of danger and fear and evil people around. Before long you could be compromising your freedom and adventure.

 

(Barcelona has the largest per capita number of moped owners of any European city. Even the police ride them!)

The weird thing is that “bad stuff” can happen any time, anywhere, with or without forward warning from others, it might be more useful to be in a position to deal with it when it does happen rather than worry about it before it happens. Or to try to stop it happening, or to rush to tell others about it.

Very tired, going to the mountains tomorrow.

Be well, Mairead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve arrived in Spain and it’s….. well…. its…. different. So far it’s warmer. It’s a different language, but we seems to be doing ok with English. We picked a hotel from the internet and when I saw it I thought we had arrived at the Spanish equivalent of a Formula 1. But happy days it’s not  – we’ve got a shower and toilet!

 

Even though we didn’t travel for very long today (maybe 4 hours) we are both tired, probably the heat. We have just come back from visiting a shopping center across the road where we had coffee and pastries to fortify us until dinner. Tomorrow we will take a train to Barcelona and leave the bike here at the hotel. We are making decisions about the computers – do we leave them in the room or on the bike or at reception? And, is the bike secure enough?

We were definitely not this worried in France.

 

 

 

I think I know why…… As soon as we tell people we’re off to Spain or Barcelona, the subject of pickpockets comes up. Then stories about theft. I think we’re starting to hear the same stories with different names. Even this morning when I was flicking through the guide book for Spain (we only opened it this morning!) there was a section on gangs of thieves ready to rob you on the side of the road if you stopped!

And because we have little or no experience of Spain our Spanish information jar is now top heavy with scary stories. This is not helpful! Well actually it would be helpful to keep up away from Spain! But it hasn’t done that, so…… we’re here now.

 

We didn’t realise until just now that we are making decisions based on a one-sided view of an entire country. Not only that but this is turning up an ugly side of us! It turns out we’re very attached to our stuff! Now, I remember somewhere there’s a Buddhist saying, something about giving up your attachment to stuff? I always thought that seemed fine and dandy but how do you get on with your life if you’re not taking care of your stuff. I think I understand that differently now. Now, I think it means – being attached to your stuff  (i.e. worrying about losing it), is very, very hard work but you can make your life easier by not worrying about your stuff!

So note to self, Spain is a great place to be to learn how to live the easy life – don’t worry about your stuff getting stolen!

Time has passed and we have returned from dinner at a little tapas bar in the shopping center. We had met the owner earlier when he apologised for assuming we were English as we were reading the English menu! He remembered us when we returned to eat and told us they would be the only restaurant in the center open tomorrow, as it is good Friday. So being a good Irishman (and woman) we asked if they would be serving drink. So he says “Yes drink, no meat, just fish” then a little wink “but we will have meat!”. Later we were checking the weather for tomorrow and the waitress told us there would be rain, so we took the opportunity to ask her about trains to Barcelona. Off she goes and brings the train timetable from her handbag to show us how frequent they are.

We are warming greatly to Spain!

 

Be well, Mairead.

 

 

 

 

We’re having a lazy day today (well I am, Denis is working! Stop feeling sorry for him – he loves it!). Breakfast at 10am and a little walk in the town of Montblanc. I love the narrow streets and the colourful doors.

We’ve been here before. Last year we stayed for four days and then headed off to the Millau Bridge. We’re going in the opposite direction this time and passed the Millau yesterday. Even though it was toward the end of a long day we decided to visit the town instead of bypassing it in the clouds.

(Pictures shows the Millau Bridge from the road out of town.)

It’s a very pretty place and they serve yummy coffee. This was where I had my treat coffee. By the way Bairbre, Nolene and Liam have sent me irrevocable (!) evidence to suggest that coffee drinking is in fact GOOD for my health. I believe they are, as I write, researching my jittery, anxious symptoms and may find that these are more indications of my general well being. I await their findings…… anxiously.

We’re off to Spain tomorrow, to a town called Girona, halfway from here to Barcelona. I wonder what the coffee in Spain is like?

Be well, Mairead.

 

 

 

We left Grandmont this morning (Tuesday) at 10 am and we have just arrived in the village of Montblanc in the Languedoc region. That’s eight and a half hours including twenty minutes break for lunch, ten for coffee, ten for tea and five for complaining.

 

Everything hurts – my posterior (!), my ears (I think I might have sticky out ears and they’re tired being pinned back in the helmet), my bones, my head. But dinner is being cooked for me as I write so I’m starting to feel much better.

This morning when Denis put today’s destination in the sat nav, it gave up and offered a preliminary suggestion that the journey would take eight hours (that’s not counting breaks!). Denis was very excited. I was very worried. We said goodbye to our hosts in Grandmont and headed off down the road.

I was definitely not a happy bunny. I remember what it’s like after that long on a bike. it’s not good! There was silence on the intercom, well except for me complaining that we were taking the scenic route. Up front Denis was like a little puppy, all excited to be riding for the full day. Considering we were both going the same way on the same bike, it’s kinda crazy that we were feeling so different… Anyway, after an hour and a half, (yes that long) I remembered something.

One of my favourite books is The Power of Now and in it the author suggests that we don’t spend nearly enough time in the present moment. We’re either off in the future or way back in the past. He says we miss the most relevant bit – now. So here I was way off in the future planning how bad I was going to feel and I was FEELING it now in my bones, all before it even happened! Based on something I remembered from a different bike ride. Crazy but completely understandable, I hear you all say in my defence (thank you, xxx). Understandable, but not really that useful.

 

So, we stop for a cup of coffee and I have tea (because I’ve given up the coffee again) and he’s wondering about the lay of the land (i.e. my good naturedness level between 1 and 10). By the time we leave I’m noticing the beautiful scenery and the sun making sparkles on the lakes as we pass.

And it really was easier. Even though everything hurts right now, it’s not even half as bad as I thought it would be. Plus, I wasn’t feeling it all the time, just at the end for about an hour. So I saved myself seven hours of feeling miserable. And as a treat to myself for being so resourceful I had a coffee!

 

(Note: If anyone finds some research to say how good coffee is for us, could you pass it on, pronto?)

 

Be well, Mairead.

 

 

It is so beautiful here. I’m sitting on the sofa with my feet on a coffee table listening to the birds singing. The sun is shining in the window in front of me like a big flat screen tv (with smells and heat). There’s rosemary growing on the windowsill outside and there’s nothing I need in the world….

 

We went off this morning to get some breakfast in the nearest town. Anyone who’s been reading since last year will remember our attraction to McDonalds for breakfast because we couldn’t work out where else to get it. And last year Ann gave us some great advice which we followed this morning. Go to the bakery, buy your croissants, take them to the tabac/pub, order your cafe au lait and go eat it at the tables outside . Thank you Ann! While the French were inside drinking beer (really, at 10.30 am!) we were outside scoffing down yummy coffee, four croissants and a baguette. Is it possible this is the perfect life?

While I remember it, I want to mention my internal coffee journey. I gave up coffee and tea (black tea) about 5 years ago, without much problem. Then last year in Italy, I was tempted and succumbed to the smell and then the taste of Italian coffee. When we got home I stopped drinking coffee again, and felt the headache of that for a few days. Now we’re back in the land of wonderful smelling coffee I have sinned again. Only this time I’m up to three cups a day!

Then in La Rochelle I noticed a familiar, if long ago, feeling in my gut. A kind of anxious, jittery, adrenaline type feeling. “Ah, ha”, thinks I, “it is the coffee!”. So you’d imagine, wouldn’t you, that I would give up the coffee? And I did, for one day. Then it was morning again and I started to get all excited about my “cafe au lait, grand s’il vous plait”, (that means I wanted a big coffee with milk, please). This doesn’t even take into account that I don’t like milk and now I’m throwing it back at every opportunity. So two things occur to me, 1. I don’t think I want to give up the coffee, in spite of the jittery feeling (which I dislike a lot) and the potential headache (which I dislike even more). 2. I think I might understand the dilemma smokers find themselves in.

 

 

On our way home from breakfast, Denis decided to take the scenic route, we had the sat nav, we couldn’t get lost. Or could we? After an hour, of beautiful scenery, and having passed the same family three times we decided to stop and ask. (Oh I just realised, today we saw lots of people, farmers, grannies with small children and now this family, granny, mother and two small children…. maybe because it’s Monday?) Ok, we stopped to ask. Now stopping to ask has it’s dangers, 1.You have to have your question prepared. 2.They have to be able to understand your question.  3.You have to be able to hear their answer. 4.You have to be able to understand their answer. 5.They have to believe you’ll be able to understand their answer.

 

The odds were against us!

 

(Picture shows Grandmother wearing white jacket to the right of the slide)

 

The grandmother smiled at us and came closer (the daughter retreated with the small children…..). I had my question prepared, “Grandmont?”, while gesticulating palms up. She repeated “Grandmont” in a lovely accent. I had my helmet on, and my ear plugs, I could not hear her. I gesticulated to indicate “wait, please while I remove my helmut and my ear plugs”. She smiled. When I could hear she repeated. I could not understand…. She spoke more slowly and gesticulated to indicate turns and crossroads. And then she stopped and turned to her daughter and from the body language I think she probably said “I’ll never be able to explain all the details, they are very slow”. So the daughter said, in English, “where have you come from?”. And when we told her the name of the town she told us to go back and start from there! No wonder we like it here, it’s Ireland!

 

Now it’s nearly time to have lunch and today we’re going for a picnic on a log we met yesterday. We have some salmon we saved from dinner last night and a baguette from the boulangaire.

 

Be well, Mairead.

 

 

I got the little camera last year to take pictures as we were moving (and to help me stay awake after lunch!). And it worked quite well. It’s not as good a camera as the big one but I’m not as concerned about dropping it on the road, so that’s good. But now it’s developed a problem…. well Denis has. If he sees something as we hurtle along he’s straight on the intercom with “picture, picture, get a picture of that”. By the time I react, we’ve passed the amazing thing.

Yesterday, we passed a lovely bunch of colourful cyclists…. this is my effort…

Then a beautiful river…… by the time I turned on the camera I could only get the bank…

Here’s a little boy in a deserted village, waving…. I can’t see him either!

And this one……. a horse trying to throw his rider as we pass….. it all went by in a bit of a blur really.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe we have enough pictures…..

We arrived in La Rochelle in the afternoon, in beautiful sunshine. And this is the view from our little hotel….And there’s a toilet and a shower!

La Rochelle is a very pretty town with narrow winding streets. All the buildings seem to be made of white sandstone and there are those walkways like Torino and Nice but not as tall.

We went to the harbour area to have a meal on our first night.

We decided to stay a second night as it was so comfortable and the staff were very friendly. They realised early on that we were practicing our French (still) and each time we come to the desk they encourage us!

Then yesterday we packed everything up and set off for our next stop. We’re back to Airbnb again. The website that makes it easy to stay with real people in their homes or their bnb’s. Off to Grandmont near a small village called St Sylvestre, nearest town Ambazac in the Limosin. The journey altogether took 6 hours including food stops and ‘comfort’ breaks.

It’s very odd the way the land changes as we move through this country. From Cherbourg to La Rochelle, the land was very flat, generally, with no ditches, just a grassy edge at the side of the road and then the farmer’s crops. For our journey yesterday we could have been in Ireland – the ditches, the winding roads, the sleepy towns. Well now, actually, the towns are a bit different. There’s no one there! We passed through small towns all day yesterday and saw maybe 5 people and they were sitting outside a bar drinking! What do they do all day? Where do they go? Are they asleep?

Anyway, we arrived at our new home (for two nights), our hosts are very friendly and helpful. When we had unpacked, I went to sit in the sunshine by the pool and wait for dinner to be served – my dream scenario. The sun started to set over the garden and I went back inside and realised again I would need to utilise my long johns. I was cold. But one mention of this to our hosts and they were into our sitting room with a bag of logs, lighting the stove!

After dinner we invited them with their daughter up to our appartment for a glass of wine (which they had kindly supplied on our arrival). The family had moved from the Lake district 18 months ago to live in warm sunshine and a quiet area (well, of course it is quiet – there’s no one around).