Rainy day in Ballaghaderreen

July 21, 2015July 20, 2015 | Mairead

(This is why rain is so great… it makes wonderful green stuff)

Today was a little bit wet so I didn’t get a chance to take many photos. Fortunately, I took a lot yesterday. We’re staying in the small town of Ballaghaderreen, I’m not sure if I know how to pronounce it so I was waiting to hear someone here say it… but no one has yet. I think it’s Balla-hah-dreen but don’t quote me on that. We are staying in a room over the pub on the main street and when we dropped all our gear we went looking for a coffee shop.

(Perfect cafe in Ballaghadereen… with only one small problem)

We couldn’t find one on our own so we asked a lady in the supermarket and she was very proud to tell us there was a beautiful place up near the church. Her friend told us it won some competition as the best in Ireland. Well, of course that’s exactly the coffee shop we want to go to, right? We followed her precise directions and spotted a pretty little gate lodge with flowers in hanging baskets and window boxes. Perfect. We took some pictures outside and congratulated ourselves on such a great find. Then we went in through a little gate and spotted the sign. The CLOSED sign…. We were twenty minutes late. We pressed our noses to the windows for a bit and returned to our room over the pub. The instant coffee isn’t award winning but grand all the same.

(Claire and Paul’s lock-keepers cottage on the Royal Canal near Mullingar)

It definitely makes us appreciate yesterday’s tea break on the Royal Canal in the little lock keeper’s cottage. Paul made us great tea while Claire had baked delicious soda bread. If it hadn’t been for Claire chatting away outside with the passing walkers and cyclists we wouldn’t have noticed the opportunity for tea. She grew up in this cottage and years later when she and her husband retired they decide to renovate and they’ve been welcoming passers-by since.

(This was great tea)

They had been very busy yesterday by the time we arrived and all the scones were gone, then we ate the last of the soda bread. So that when Claire got word from one of the cyclists that there was a boat coming she had to dash off and put more scones in the oven. I wondered to Paul if there would be enough time to bake the scones and he told us the boat was coming from Mullingar and would have five locks to navigate. There’d probably be enough time to cook them dinner too. I really hope the people on the boat stopped yesterday and I hope Claire and Paul keep welcoming people into the little cottage because it’s a really lovely experience.

All the best from Ballaghaderreen, Mairead.

On the Road Again

July 20, 2015July 20, 2015 | Mairead

(Our first photo point was an old church and graveyard overlooking the river Boyne)

It’s been a long time but we finally dusted off the motorbike, charged the cameras and took to the road. As I write we’re just outside Mullingar, Co. Westmeath. About two hours from home. We’re taking it slowly this time. You might remember two years ago we went to Florence via Venice on the motorbike? I haven’t been on the bike since. Every time Denis would suggest a possible trip I’d remember that last journey and the heat (40 degrees C in full bike gear) and the length of time spent sitting on my posterior (some days more than 8 (eight!) hours) and the motorways in Germany (lots of big scary trucks.)

(Going over a little bridge we realised we were crossing the Royal Canal (at Coolnahay Harbour) so we stopped for tea and soda bread (baked by the daughter of the last lock-keeper))

But Denis is very persistent and eventually he came up with a formula I was willing to test… travel (on mainly country roads) for one hour, eat, travel for one more hour, eat and sleep. Also, temperatures would be less than 30 degrees… probably much less. This week we’re testing the formula. In order to make the test more interesting we’re following the Irish photo rally. This is a list compiled by Gerry Christie with twenty four GPS points around the island of Ireland. There are clues as to what you might find at a point but you have to go there to see. The idea is that you get to travel to places on your motorbike around the island that you might otherwise never find. They’re dotted around the country so you can spend your time meandering from one to the next for days. Have a look at the map on irishphotorally.com.

(Bumble Bee at work)

Anyway, it was with a bit of trepidation that I got on the back of the bike this morning but I was soon rewarded with the forgotten truth – it’s an amazing form of transport. I had forgotten. The heat and daily distances of the last trip had erased my memory of it’s beauty. The beauty of the smells… just five minutes from home we smelled the most amazing wild garlic smell. We pass this point at least four times a week, every week never smelling the garlic, but on a motorbike…. The beauty of fresh air! I know it’s free but it’s gorgeous and it smells kinda green, yep it does.

(There’s a lake right next to our hotel with a little jetty)

Anyway, we’re off to dinner now and tomorrow we’ll drive for an hour, eat, drive for another hour eat some more and sleep. We’ll also take some pictures and smell some more smells.

Bye for now, Mairead.

Three days in Edinburgh.

September 5, 2014September 5, 2014 | Mairead

05 9a

(Cute salt and pepper)

We went to Edinburgh on Monday. We came home on Wednesday. We fitted in loads and left out loads (sorry Dan and Carol and Amy and Calum and Aaron…) We didn’t bring blogging tools, so here’s a summary and lots of pictures. Edinburgh is well worth visiting and especially with lovely weather.

05 9b

(Cobblestoned street near our apartment)

We were meeting Doris and Grahame. They booked a pretty apartment within walking distance of the city and we arrived on Monday afternoon to a warm welcome from them. Let me fill you in on these personalities. Doris is Canadian, Grahame is British, living in Canada for almost 100 years (I think that’s accurate.) Doris smiles a lot, Grahame laughs a lot. Doris is very, very generous, Grahame is learning to be patient. Doris loves to shop, Grahame is a fast learner. Doris make great pancakes, Grahame writes great Facebook updates.

05 9c

(The American barista in Starbucks almost spelled my name right, but… hey, there’s my sister’s name – Moira!?)

Of course I knew all these things already so when Doris said, “this room is yours, I hope it’s ok”, I should have known she had given us the big bedroom, with the comfy chair (for mediating as Grahame calls meditating) while they had the little one with no chair. I have no idea where their sixteen suitcases (slight exaggeration) were stored. I also should have known that when we were offered pancakes for breakfast the pancake ingredients (including oil for frying, cups for measuring and maple syrup for pouring) had come all the way from Canada in one of those sixteen suitcases.

05 9i

(The measuring cups from Canada)

I didn’t know these thing until later and I’m glad I didn’t because I really enjoyed the room and the pancakes and I didn’t feel even a little guilty.

05 9d

(Big rivets in the big door at the big castle in Edinburgh)

We hadn’t realised that Doris and Grahame were vegetarian… and they weren’t… but they seem to have started a new health regime, possibly? So… none of us ate meat for the three days and we walked… a lot. Denis has an app that tells you how many steps you’ve taken over the course of a day and we were walked an average of 15km. We may have led the Canadians to believe that this was normal for us… but the truth is we might top 2km a day, normally. So… we kept up with them and they kept up with us keeping up with them! There was a moment when someone mentioned the possibility of taking a taxi to the restaurant but Denis said “not at all, it’s just around the corner” and the rest of us smiled wanly at each other and trudged on for a further 2km.

05 9e

(Our guide around Edinburgh castle. Well… his kilt and socks and boots, anyway)

We saw Edinburgh castle (where the kings and Queens used to stay and fight), Holyroodhouse Palace (where the Queen sometimes stays and works) Marks and Spencer’s (where underwear is world-renowned) the Royal Mile between the castle and the palace and a beautiful castle called Tantallon near north Berwick – ahem, the town where Denis’ sister-in-law works… but we didn’t visit, sorry 😦

05 9l

(The Bass Rock as seen from Tantallon Castle. Why is the rock white? We wondered too and Doris investigated. Each white dot is a bird!)

We didn’t have any arguments which could have been because of all the gifts Doris bestowed on us (you remember I said she was generous.) I didn’t even mind that I had to wear two pairs of leggings, all my underwear, all my tops, my fleece and my rain coat on the plane home in order to fit the gifts.

05 9h

(The ruined abbey at Holyroodhouse Palace)

If you are thinking of going on holidays with some friends may I suggest you only go with the ones who give you the bigger bedroom, lots of gifts, make the breakfast, let you choose the restaurants and generally make you think you’re lovely people to spend time with… but don’t go with Doris and Grahame – they’re ours.

We’ll be back, Mairead.

Lost and Alone in Budapest…

May 29, 2014May 29, 2014 | Mairead

29 05d

(Beautiful Buildings)

Budapest is quite beautiful and quite big, so we gave up the walking tour for a bus tour… not our finest hour. Not just because of the lack to exercise but for the choice of tour. Our home for the next two days is situated beside Margaret’s Bridge or as we’re saying now Mairead’s Bridge (Well, I’m the only one saying it… if you don’t know Mairead is the Irish for Margaret… ) And as there’s a bus stop for the tour on the other side of the bridge we went looking for it. Took us a long time meandering around trying to find it with a less than useless map. Eventually Denis went into a chemist to ask for directions while I waited outside taking pictures of all the beautiful buildings.

29 05f

(Mairead’s Bridge… well ok it’s still officially Margaret’s Bridge)

Now, you may not know but as soon as you tell people you’re off to countries like the Czech Republic or Hungary the stories of adventure gone terribly wrong start surfacing. The worst of the stories were generated by the mention of Budapest. (Just as an aside, while we’ve been away I’m keeping up with news of car hijackings around Ireland and murders in Dublin, we’re at the moment attempting to change our flights to land in a safer country…..) While it is very helpful to be wide awake and notice what’s going on around you, it’s not so great to be walking around in fear. It makes the walking around noticing all the amazingly beautiful things very difficult.

29 05c

(Street Scene)

Anyway, there I was on my own with an expensive camera in my hand in Budapest. I didn’t know where I was and I didn’t speak the language, did I mention I was all alone? …and nothing happened.

29 05g

(Beautiful Parliament Building)

Well, nothing bad happened. There was this older man and his wife who practically crawled along the ground so as not to get into the shot I was taking of a building across the street. When I realised the pains they were going to for my art I was mortified and grateful. I said Oh sorry and thank you and smiled. The woman smiled and the man was a joker and said something funny in Hungarian to me and I smiled in return. Of course, I have no idea what he said but I completely know from the way he said it and his body language that he was being nice to me, making a connection with me, encouraging me. That’s what humans do. It’s hard to spot when I’m afraid.

29 05b

(Look at the cute car!)

Meanwhile Denis was in the chemist having little luck explaining in sign language to the people behind the counter what he wanted when one of the customers spoke in English and said he might be able to help. He did help and we found the bus stop but we might have been better off going for a coffee instead.

29 05h

(A public transport bus with the reminder that Budapest is two cities, Buda and Pest)

We’ve had great tours with great guides in Prague and Krakow (sigh) and now we were on a bus listening to a recording. Prague and Krakow have ruined the simple pleasures of a bad bus tour for me…

From lovely Budapest, Mairead.

Somewhere Between Krakow and Budapest

May 28, 2014May 28, 2014 | Mairead

28 05c

(Time to go…)

Right so, we’re in Budapest. It was very late (well, 8.30pm) when our train arrived into Budapest Kel station. But in spite of the lateness, the ten-hour train journey and our tiredness we managed the transfer from diesel train to underground metro to city tram very efficiently. Our new host met us at the door (just around the corner from a McDonalds… so if the wi-fi doesn’t work we’ll know where to go… of course we won’t) and when we understood the door code and the previously mentioned wi-fi code we set off to eat. We took the first easy to understand restaurant… we had pizza.

28 05b

(Part of Market Square, Krakow)

All that means we didn’t see Budapest yet, but I’ve been scanning the multiple guidebooks left for us on the coffee table and if the photos are anything to go by Budapest is beautiful. We’ll get a chance to confirm that as we’re planning to go on another walking tour later.

28 05d

(They do like their meat)

Meanwhile, I feel like I’m in a travelling zone between one country and the next where I’m the same as I was yesterday but the place has changed. When we get to a new place we immerse ourselves as completely as possible in that place. You can’t help but eat the food, use the money, try the language, connect (even superficially) with the tour guides, the ticket sellers, the waiters and waitresses. But added to that you hear the history, the history of the living. There are people living here who have lived during a terrible war, through a communist take over, through communist ruling, through the fall of communist rule. And they continue to live through the emigration of their children. So I’m still emotionally still in Krakow (even though the history is probably very similar in the Czech Republic and in Hungary.)

28 05g

(Shade and a coffee, sigh)

As we walked around Krakow we often saw little groups of school children walking in twos after their teacher. They usually had matching peaked caps, bright yellow and orange are popular. The first time I saw them I was struck by the thought that they may grow up and move to Ireland and I felt really sad. Even as I write it makes me feel sad again. Not because I don’t want them to come… I don’t want them to leave…

28 05e

(Not the hammer of safety this time… probably the electricity of death)

And I don’t want to leave Krakow either, Mairead.

So Long, Farewell!

May 27, 2014May 27, 2014 | Mairead

27 05b

(Last night’s storm ( and our drain pipe) on the balcony)

Another Tuesday, another train journey. We’re off to Budapest today and we’re sad to leave Krakow. It’s really beautiful. It’s also friendly and easy-going, and they have great food. And great weather, well it was this week. We got caught in a spectacular thunder and lightning storm last night. Very beautiful and only a little damp. But still great.

27 05h

(Last night’s storm in the Market Square)

Before we got here we noticed a ring of green on the map of Krakow and wondered what it was. It’s a park where once there were walls and a moat and now there are trees and paths. It’s shady in the sun and provides some cover in the rain. There are always people here, walking or running or skateboarding or cycling or sitting or sleeping. It’s an easy route to find your way around the old town and it’s the route we’ll be taking to the train this morning. It passes churches, restaurants, the university. Through the trees you can see and hear the blue trams and when you get to the street intersections you can see all the way to the huge main square.

27 05g

(A small section of the park around Krakow before the storm)

Speaking of street intersections, when you get to a pedestrian crossing point the traffic stops to let you cross the road. Everywhere we’ve been in Krakow crossing the road has been a joy. It’s almost like the pedestrian is king not the car (or bus or tram) We stand at a zebra crossing and a car, which up to that point is moving, just stops. We’re crossing a road and there’s no zebra stripes, the cars stop. Sometimes we’re about to cross but think the car is too close to stop, the car stops. It’s good to be the king.

Goodbye beautiful Krakow, Mairead.

Free Tea! Free Coffee!

May 26, 2014May 26, 2014 | Mairead

25 05a

(Art on the old city wall)

Before we got here I was researching Krakow (with help, thank you Magda!) and one of the things I found was a free cafe, called Cafe Fińska. Well, almost free… in return for a cup of coffee or tea you add some art work to the paper tablecloth. I was very interested. Imagine having a place where people could get together, share a tea or coffee and do some art…. it’s probably not surprising I was interested. So I searched for more information about this place and as it wasn’t too far from our apartment, I thought it might be nice to go visit.

2505xx

(The old (city gate)… and the new (McDonald’s arches)…)

I wasn’t sure what to expect and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to communicate with only one word of Polish. But nothing ventured… so on Friday with a map and google directions (really miss data) scribbled on top we started walking in the direction of the (former) Jewish Ghetto. It took nearly an hour and the weather was very warm so we were a little flushed when we arrived. Denis made sure I went in first…

2505c

(A sign…)

The cafe is on the ground floor of a triangular-shaped building at the junction of two streets and it is tiny inside. The walls are covered in art, as is the (paper) table-cloth. There are mugs and a tea-making area in one corner (do you call it a corner if it’s a triangle?) There’s a six seater table down one side and a two person sofa on the other. When we walked in there were two men playing chess at a small table in the middle and one man on his iPad on the sofa.

2505d

(Low flying helicopter)

Not knowing the etiquette for this situation I decided to go ahead and announce myself. I spoke as slowly as my nervousness would allow, hi I’m from Ireland and I heard about your cafe, would you be able to tell me something about it, please? Silence. Oh, do you speak English? The older of the men at the chess board pointed to the two others and they laughed sheepishly and said yes. In the end the older man explained the history of the cafe while the younger one translated. The third man made our tea.

2505e

(See the bugle peeping out the top window of St Mary’s Church? Every hour on the hour, 24 hours a day (yes someone gets up in the middle of the night to do this) the bugle sounds over Krakow. To commemorate the bugler who was shot with an arrow to the throat as he warned the town of invaders)

It started last year when there was an art festival in Krakow. A guy called Michał Mioduszewski, an artist all the way from Warsaw created it as an art installation in the Grolsch ArtBoom Festival, June 2013. His working title: Revolutions happen in cafes. It was a great success and then the art festival was over and it was time to close everything down. But it didn’t close. The locals loved the cafe so much that they decided they wanted to keep it. They have been paying the rent ever since. They are also donating their time, their tea, their coffee and sometimes their baked goods. It opens six days a week from 4.30pm and sometimes they have concerts and classes. Everything is run on a voluntary basis with donations going towards the rent. No one makes any money out of this venture, except maybe the landlord!

2505f

(The foot bridge over the river covered in locks declaring love)

We left after our tea and I thanked the men (in Polish – thank you, Kinga!) All the way back to town I wondered…. is this only possible in Krakow or in Poland?

2505g

(Tram tracks through the park)

Maybe… maybe not… Mairead.

P.S. A link to more information about Cafe Fińska.

In Search of Hope

May 23, 2014May 23, 2014 | Mairead

2205a

(Barbed wire and electric fencing everywhere)

We went to Auschwitz yesterday. I was steeling myself for the experience but I needn’t have. The numbers of people murdered here is very difficult to imagine, so I couldn’t. The cruel punishments that were carried out were difficult to understand, so I didn’t. The lack of water, food, privacy, kindness was difficult to imagine so I can’t.

2205k

(Bricks in the wall of one of the woman’s dormitories)

And at some point I stopped trying. I couldn’t make it make sense. I disconnected from the experience. There wasn’t even the smallest scrap of hope to cling to, so I gave up.

2205g

(Wall covering outside the commander’s office in the punishment block)

So I wandered behind the tour group and started taking pictures of close up normal bits and pieces. The bricks, the wood, the wall covering, the barbed wire. When we went inside I saw tins of shoe polish and face cream so I took pictures of that. And then I saw a grater, a normal everyday grater.

2205e

(The grater. I didn’t realise there were two until I was adding this picture, the one I am referring to is on the top)

When the people were deported to Auschwitz (or other concentration and death camps) they were told they were being relocated. The Polish had heard rumours and began to doubt that it was that simple, but people from occupied countries further away (like Greece) believed. So when they were allowed to bring 25kg of their belongings with them they brought all they might need to set up a new life. On their backs.

2205b

(Detailed records were kept of every prisoner)

When they arrived at the camps, everything was taken from them and they never saw their possessions again. I began to imagine the grater was owned by a woman from Greece. And over seventy years ago she had thought it important enough (probably to feed her family) to carry for hundreds of kilometres to her new home. And they stole it from her. And she would never need it again anyway because she never got to cook for her family. She probably died from starvation or she was gassed.

2205f

(In among all the tins of shoe polish there was a tin of Nivea cream)

And that’s not fair. I’m reconnected again. But it’s way too hard to be there and be connected to even one person who was brought here, even in my imagination. And then our guide tells us to turn around and see the old man in the suit slowly walking with two people on the other side of the barbed wire to us. He tells us that this man is a survivor who escaped from Auschwitz. He has returned for a visit. And the old man notices our group of fifty turn to look at him and he slowly lifts his arm to wave. And slowly, tentatively fifty arms rise to wave back. We’re on one side and he’s on the other and in that moment I find a scrap of hope and a small enough connection to cope with for now.

2205L

It is much easier not to imagine what happened here, Mairead.

PS Here’s a link to Kazimierz Piechowski’s (the old man on the other side of the barbed wire) story.

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Three days in Edinburgh.