Family Time

January 4, 2024January 4, 2024 | Mairead

There’s a big tower in Central Park, Nagoya

We’ve been spending time with the son and daughter-in-law getting a tour of Nagoya and having a meal with Shiori’s family.

Yesterday morning we walked through a lovely area of Nagoya called Central Park. But first we had breakfast at Komeda’s. This is where you get free toast and boiled egg with your coffee! Very economical. All the expensive shops are in Central Park but there was only one shop I wanted to visit – the stationery shop! The Japanese are legendary for their cute stationery items and Shiori had promised me lots of opportunities for browsing. If paper crafting isn’t your thing (and why isn’t it?) you may not know what you’re missing. I have some photos to show you.

The shopping baskets are tiny with my tiny post -its

If we didn’t travel so light I might have more… might be a little overkill to buy checked in bag space for stationery?

Muji is a Japanese shop where you can buy household stuff and clothes and food and where I got the tiny spatula and Darragh got some t-shirts.

And then there’s a whole warren of shopping under the streets of Nagoya. We visited a second hand clothes shop, a chemist (we have a need for paracetamol which is Tylenol here) a sock shop and a restaurant (where we had Udon noodles – yummy) but we could have easily browsed for hours visiting shop after shop. We didn’t have the energy so we went back to the hotel and the young ones shopped some more.

When we were back up on streets level I heard what sounded like a politician with a loudspeaker telling us to vote for him but it wasn’t , it was an ambulance… yes. Shiori explained later that the ambulance has to ask people to get out of the way because it’s not a given that they will! So they say, “going through a red light, please stop”, “going through a pedestrian crossing, please wait”. Humans are very confusing… everyone here seems to pay attention to the rules and are very polite and friendly but for some reason they ignore ambulances…

Below ground under the streets is full of shops and restaurants

Last night we went to a Korean restaurant in Shiori’s home town. It’s called a Yakiniku restaurant and you get to grill your own food. We had a room to ourselves and we sat at a big table with two grills set into it. The table was lower than the floor but there was space for our legs underneath, making it easy for us westerners to sit without embarrassment. Although getting back up was a little messy, I don’t think anyone noticed…

When we arrived at the restaurant we were welcomed by the staff and we each took off our shoes and put them in a cupboard just outside our private room door. There were a couple of pairs of flip flops nearby and I inquired if I needed to wear them but no they were to use if any of us wanted to go to the bathroom. Then the ordering began. Shiori’s sister ordered using her phone and soon there were drinks and platters of vegetables and meats and bowls of rice arriving on the table.

And when we’d finished those platters there were more. The vegetables were familiar but the meats were very different. There was wagu beef also and pork and chicken, so much variety. First of all – delicious. You know when people say it just melts in your mouth ? Most of these meats did just that!

Second meat platter. Thats the intestine on the far right -yum!

And there was the memories of childhood – did you have ox tongue as a child? I had but it was in thicker chunks cut across the tongue and I’ve no idea how it was cooked. This tongue was cut lengthwise and paper thin. Then there was beef guts, possibly intestine? Well, I was seriously full by then but I just had to try it. And it was remarkably tasty. Very fatty which of course gives it taste but the way they flavour the dishes also makes a difference.

We got back late after the dinner each of us (except Darragh) falling asleep on the train. They would be going to a Japanese theme park in the morning while we were going back to Osaka on the Shinkansen.

Just in case you’re in a restaurant and there’s two soap dispensers… the green one on the right is mouthwash. (Shiori told me)

It was so lovely to meet our Japanese in-laws. And you know it’s funny, language isn’t as crucial as you would think. Yes Shiori was busy translating but when there was silence we didn’t fill it, filling it would have been unhelpful anyways. In fact filling silence is always unhelpful so we were lucky not to be able to chuck in some easy small talk if we felt uncomfortable. But for some reason it didn’t feel uncomfortable and that might have been because we were all cooking together. (To be honest Shiori’s Mum did most of the cooking for Denis and I and we were very happy with that!) And in the silence you communicate with your eyes, your hands your smiles and your nodding head. There’s a lot more going on besides language.

Of course they are not our in-laws but I don’t know a word that describes this relationship between two families drawn together accidentally through their offspring and lasting generations. It should have a name so we can talk about it.

Oh and do you remember my palms together bow? Well, right at the end of the meal, each member of Shiori’s family put their palms together and said thank you to the food! That’s what the palm together bow is for here, like grace after meals but not to god, to the food, for sustaining us maybe, for dying so that we might be nourished. Of course I shared my experiences of bowing like that. I don’t mean to brag but I seem to have a back for making the Japanese laugh. Oh and one more thing, do you remember my picture of Mt Fuji from the bullet train? Yes well it seems I may have taken a picture of a completely different mountain. But after a bit of discussion and Shiori’s translation (Me:but I told everyone it was Mt. Fuji) everyone agreed, yes it was Mt. Fuji.

It’s probably not.

You and your adorable paperclip

January 2, 2024January 4, 2024 | Mairead

Adorable little paperclip from Loft in Nagoya

It’s the morning after the moving earth experience of yesterday and I was going to tell you about our trip on the bullet train but I woke up thinking about something different. I’ll tell you about the bullet train later.

Last week I was speaking to a friend. We chat every Christmas because one day years ago I was brave enough to share something I made with her. It was a fabric Christmas decoration. It might sound odd to need to be brave to share something you’ve made. I definitely think it’s odd to find something so human to be excruciatingly difficult. But it is for me. Back then I must have seen something in her that told me she was a safe place, so I shared.

No bicycles on the footpath. The Japanese love to ride their bicycles on the footpaths.

Anyway, we spoke the week before this trip to Japan and she said something that a few other people have said to me, and that was: you’re right to go travelling when your can because it’s something you’ll never regret when you no longer can. I think I “get” her words today. For me the long travelling we have done since 2008 on the motorbike and in the motorhome and now this trip to Japan have seemed luxurious and decedent. A bit too special for me. I love the experience but I’m embarrassed I get to do it. I’m embarrassed to share my luck. I write about it in this blog because writing helps me to understand all my confused thoughts and feelings. Plus, it feels like I’m writing to one person. You. I trust that you are a safe person.

This poster is on most of the trains… Please be careful not to let your belongings bother other passengers. Please set your phone to silent mode and refrain from talking on the phone. Please be considerate of others around you when eating and drinking on the train.

But today I woke up thinking that my being anything other than excited and grateful for what I get to do, is a preposterous (I’ve been reading Sherlock Holmes) way to live… or die. Imagine – and not in a scary way, please – we could each die at any moment but right now in this moment we are alive and (if we are lucky) we can move and talk and laugh and we can make choices. Choices about how to live in this tiny moment. Choices about how to share this little bit of humanity we bring to the world. I want to call it something like essence but Shiori brought me to a stationery shop today (the Japanese know how to do stationery, it’s just unfortunate we may not have enough room to being it all back) and I got adorable little paper clips… Our little bit of humanity is an adorable paperclip holding all our unique experiences, our lovely thoughts – only the lovely ones, all our ideas, all our dreams for the future and… some more nice things.

Our paper clip came with us when we were born. Some of us have been hiding it successfully ever since. But before we started hiding we were sharing our paper clip like crazy with everyone around. Imagine if you could go back to that innocent time… Sharing a smile with the man at the combini (name for small supermarket here) even though you cannot speak his language, you cannot even speak! Sharing a babbling story of your day with your baby friend at the crèche even if he seems bored. Sharing a trip with a group of strangers on the bus even if they seem odd to you. Sharing your banana experience with the other babies even if they are all much better at eating banana than you. Sharing silence with your Mammy as she holds your bottle of water even though you’re well able to hold it yourself. Sharing your joy at making a three brick tower even when it falls down.

The train was completely empty when we took it on New Year’s Eve… and yet they provided trains

When we arrived we were much better at sharing our paper clip of experiences with the others living and dying beside us on this planet. We were smarter then.

When you’re ready to order you press this button and a loud bell goes off in the restaurant to summon the waiter. This made me very uncomfortable… but hunger cured that!

Ok I promised the bullet train experience but first… I do not know how we are going to survive when we get home without heated toilet seats. Oh I can imagine what you are thinking, what a silly fad, I thought so too but have I once turned off the heat? No, I have not and now I might be a little addicted. “Oh look there’s a toilet I haven’t been to!” The automatic flushing. The noise of water flowing – now I’m not sure whether that’s to encourage flow or maintain privacy and sure it doesn’t matter. I feel there’s no need to go into details about the other features, suffice to say I feel as fresh as a daisy when I leave the cubicle. Oh I nearly forgot about the odour – none. You couldn’t make this up, I have no idea where it goes, it’s just gone. And it’s not just in the airport or hotels these toilets are everywhere.

Here are the buttons you will need during your trip to the toilet…

I promised I’d tell you about the bullet train… We got to the Shinkansen terminal in plenty of time on Monday. We had our tickets. We found our platform (there’s lots of bullet trains on lots of platforms) we even found our gate (there’s two gates for each carriage, one for the seats in the front and the other for seats in the rear. The time said 12.05pm and we were queuing at our gate at 11.57am. Perfect timing, go us! The train stopped, the gate opened, the doors opened, we filed on and found our seats – all seats are reserved. But there was a bag in my seat by the window. We checked our tickets again. Yes we had the right seats. Now what? A Japanese woman approached with more bags and squeezed past us to sit on my seat. I caught Denis’ eye, he said “excuse me” (he had lost the toss in the eye game) “I think these are our seats” while shoving our tickets towards her in a not very bowing way. She looked and looked again and then said, “another train” Denis understood first… We are too early! This isn’t my seat! This isn’t even our train! We have to get off! Now!

There’s a guard at every gate and there are two gates per carriage. Can you see his gloves?

A very awkward race towards the door later and we were back on the platform. The train pulled off. If your ticket says 12.05pm that means 11.57 is too early. These huge long trains get into the station, disembark their passengers, load more passengers and get out of the station within 3 minutes! They are never late (can that be really true?) We had less than 30 seconds to spare. But we were wiser. There’s a train number on the tickets and the overhead screens show the number of the train now standing at your gate. We get on the next train. And there was no one sitting in our seats.

Can you see the number 18? That’s the number of the train we should have got on…

It’s 176km from Osaka to Nagoya. It would take 2 hours and 30 minutes to drive but the Shinkansen took 50 minutes – plenty of time to try out the toilets but our earlier confusion made me wary of leaving my seat so I’ll try it out on the way back. It travels at speeds up to 320km per hour. It has to slow down to let people on and off, unfortunately, I think that’s why it took so long…

We settled down to admire the countryside and the bento boxes (cute take away lunch boxes you can buy at the station and elsewhere) of the other passengers. At one point I saw someone taking a picture out the window at a snow covered mountain in the distance. Denis said, “that’s Mount Fuji”, the most loved mountain in Japan. I said, “how do you know?” He said “google it.” I googled, “can you see Mount Fuji from the bullet train between Osaka and Nagoya?” You can. Lucky guess. I had thought we wouldn’t get a chance to see it on this trip to Japan but there it was, out the window on the other side of the train looking exactly like it does on the telly.

We stood up in plenty of time to exit the train at Nagoya (once bitten) and found our way through the station to the metro. It did seem there was less English translations here but we’re seasoned Japan rail travellers now… Fingers crossed.

Our neighbour’s bento box. See all the leg room?

In case you need to hear this today: Share your stories* even if you think they’re boring or just about toilets or mistakes because right now there are people out there missing something… a moment with you. xxx

*Or your art, or your ideas or whatever your adorable paperclip holds

Lucky New Year

January 1, 2024June 1, 2024 | Mairead

We were finally able to leave the room and our adventures in Osaka could begin. We needed to buy tickets for the bullet train – real name, the Shinkansen – and we’d heard from the son that they were selling fast as this is holiday time for the Japanese. Although we had travelled very successfully the one stop from the airport to our hotel (go us!) buying the bullet train tickets meant we would have to navigate a larger area. Osaka was an hour away from our hotel.

You thought we were in Osaka? So did I. There are over 2 million people living in Osaka so it’s a little spread out. It would take time to get into the center and the ticket office where you buy the tickets for the Shinkansen. We could of course have bought the tickets online but physically going there meant we would be familiar with the route on the day.

The windows in the train have blinds! And a very handy little table to forget your phone on…

We had breakfast at the hotel – a one off luxury for a day filled with “how do we…?” Turned out it would be the same silver train, we travelled on from the airport, that we would need to go to Osaka. No problem. We had a maps app but also the train announcements (which were very clear) were in English as well as Japanese. Plus the signage at the station was in Roman letters (so we were able to read the station names as we passed).

Our small amount of experience so far has led us to believe that everyone in Japan is very polite and this was demonstrated as another couple came to sit in the seats opposite us. They approached, smiled and bowed and when they had our attention they bowed again and took their seats. I was surprised by how quickly I got used to returning a bow. In the morning I was giving a quick nod (like, I see ya – how’s it going?) progressing to a full head nod and by afternoon I was fully engaged with palms together plus bow from the waist. That last one usually eliciting a laugh from every Japanese recipient! (I asked Shiori tonight why that might be and she suggested it might be more of a religious greeting… not entirely appropriate. I’ll probably let that go from now on then.)

The gardener at the castle had swept up the leaves into a Happy New Year 2024 message!

We had to change train lines from our silver train but that was pretty straightforward, as I said the signage is excellent. We were soon at Shin-Osaka where we were to buy our tickets. It’s a huge station but eventually we found the ticket office and queued up. The queueing is very polite also. When we got to a ticket booth and asked the assistant if she spoke English she said, “a little” so we asking for tickets for a train on Monday. She lifted her iPad and spoke into it and then showed us what she had written. Turned out we had queued in the wrong line, this one was the Tickets for Today Only queue. Oh. But.. she spoke into her iPad again and we read, “As you have queued I will serve you.” Needless to say I took this opportunity to practice my bowing.

We were so bowled over with our success with the tickets in spite of our wrong queuing that we decided to continue our adventure with coffee and a castle, Osaka Castle. Denis worked out the route – all by train – and we were soon having coffee and tea in Tullys cafe followed by a walk to the castle.

The receipt coffee, tea, sandwich and biscuit

Months ago when I was thinking about our trip to Japan one of the things I wanted to do was walk along the streets looking at ordinary things. As the castle was closed for the holidays we had time to carry on to the food market and instead of taking the train we walked the 40 minutes through the streets. I took lots of pictures of ordinary things, like signs, manhole covers, traffic lights – their traffic lights sit side by side not one above the other! And they drive on the left like us.

My feet were sore by the time we arrived but I was happy we had done it. The market is called Kuromon and runs along several streets which are covered. It was packed with people and so overwhelming it took us a couple of passes before we found a place to sample food. The food was called Takoyaki and had little bits of octopus in balls of flour batter – it was very tasty. We got a variety of flavours for about €4.

Food market checked out we headed for the station – Namba. It’s a huge place with shops, shopping centers and cafes. We revisited our old familiar coffee shop and had another experience of Japanese culture.

I was in charge of the purchasing while Denis went off to look for a place to buy a battery, my phone was depleting fast with all the photos I was taking and his with all the navigating. But he came back empty handed and instead found a table while I continued to queue. I explained (in English, granted) to the server that I wanted a one shot and a two shot americano and a small cake to share. The very nice polite young man asked if I wanted the cake heated and I said, “I don’t know I’ve never had it before what do you do?” The poor guy had to go ask a colleague what was I talking about… The colleague had better English and when he realised what I was asking smiled and said “I have it heated.” (Excellent choice, by the way!)

One shot americano and two shots and warm cake. Yum!

I paid and waited at the coffee queue. Time passed, so much so the lady queuing beside me turned to ask me what I was waiting for and called the barista over. She told him I was waiting for an americano. The americano came… on its own. So I asked the lady for help again but my receipt only mentioned one coffee and cake… as the receipt was only in Japanese symbols I hadn’t realised the mistake. “Ok, I’ll be back”, I brought the coffee and cake down to Denis. He said “it’s grand, we’ll share the coffee”, so I waved to the barista that it was ok. Next thing he was beside me saying he was so sorry and I was saying it’s ok and he was asking where are were from and we were saying Ireland (and we were exchanging addresses again – no, not really) and everyone was smiling. Off he goes but returns with two shots of espresso… he must have been trying to understand what had got lost in translation. I was really touched and practiced more bowing and more smiling but it wasn’t over yet.

My new favourite drink, called Sweat because it has electrolytes

On the way out the first guy was clearing tables and he stopped to apologise for his English, so I apologised for my Japanese and Denis took the opportunity to ask for directions to an electronics shop to buy the phone battery. And didn’t the lovely guy take the time to look at Denis’ map and point us in the right direction. As we were going I automatically performed my palms together bow saying thank you. (Well, I didn’t know about the inappropriateness of it yet…) He thought this was hilarious and we all left happier than we had been when we arrived.

It was dark when we reached the exit of the station, this was a big surprise as we had been underground and just assumed it was still daylight outside. The streets look very different at night, full of lights and very pretty. We found the electronics shop and headed home. It was now around 6pm, we’d had a very long day – our first full day in Japan and it was feeling like time for bed but we weren’t going to make that mistake again. We went to find dinner. The first restaurant we picked was closed but we found another thanks to a man at the train station who noticed our confusion.

The restaurant looked like a traditional Japanese restaurant with low tables and cushions on the floor. Fortunately, they could see we were definitely not supple enough for that carry on and the waitress gave us seats by the bar. She suggested the house special and we picked two other dishes and shared everything. It was really good, we are definitely enjoying Japanese flavours. Then it was 8pm and now we could probably go to bed without fear. And it wasn’t as bad as the previous night so there’s hope as each day passes it will get easier. Whatever happens it will have been worth it!

P.S. By now you may have seen the news of an earthquake on the west coast of Japan – nowhere near us. We were outdoors visiting a shrine – a very popular thing to do here on New Year’s Day, to increase your good luck for the year ahead. All our phones got alerts just moments before we felt slight movement. It reminded me of when you’re in a lift and it starts moving. We’re safe and happy and wish the same for you this new year’s evening in Japan xxx

Don’t do that thing with the chopsticks

December 31, 2023December 30, 2023 | Mairead

In case you didn’t guess we both fell asleep within an hour of checking in. It was glorious to finally lie flat on a bed after all that time. Who could blame us for not setting an alarm. When I woke up I felt great… I’d slept all night and it would soon be time to get up and visit Osaka. Then I saw the time, 7.00pm. I’d slept for three hours, there were probably twelve more dark hours until I could go exploring. Denis was still asleep so I kept the noise and the lighting to a minimum and edited the blog I’d drafted at the airport. Then I read myself to sleep until I woke again… at midnight. What the…? Nooooo! Meanwhile Denis slept on…

I no longer cared about his comfort and set myself up with a midnight snack. My friend A. had suggested bringing energy bars to Japan so that when we arrived from the airport and needed a quick fix we’d have a small shot of energy enabling us to track down a meal. Ok I didn’t want a meal but my brain needed a jolt because I was beginning to feel desperate. What if I never slept? What if I’m awake for the whole holiday? What if when I meet Darragh’s parents-in-law I’m ready to kill them? Or I accidentally insult them? Or do the thing with the chopsticks that’s rude. What’s the thing with the chopsticks? I can’t remember what I’m not supposed to do with the chopsticks!

There’s a kettle, tea and coffee sachets in the room and a couple of bottles of water, so I make tea. I have a personal rule not to drink caffeinated drinks after lunchtime, they keep me awake. But this was before lunch, right? Never mind, I’m doing this. In the tea section there was green tea and something called roasted green tea. I tried the roasted and it was almost like coffee but without the buzz. (Note to self: Bring home some of that.) I settled down to my feast. I think energy bars are a marketing hype and I don’t eat them. There’s a sentence I’ll never say again… With every bite I feel my desperation decrease.

Returning to bed again my expectations had shifted, maybe I wouldn’t sleep long and nmaybe sleep isn’t possible but maybe I’ll be grand without it. Then I noticed the humidifier. I’ve never used a humidifier, I didn’t even know they existed for most of my life. We have plenty of humidity at home. Maybe I’m missing damp Ireland? Maybe if I could just work out how to add more damp I’ll be able to sleep? Is it possible energy bars make you smarter?

There’s an instruction sheet in one of the drawers under the tv. It’s fairly sparse in instructions but I think I see what I need – the air purifier with skin moisturizer option – it’ll be like a spa (day) night. I have to press buttons until I get the symbols that look longer than the other symbols but there are no buttons. Well no, there is one button, the power button. The power button turns on a screen with the symbols – success. I find the spa symbol and gentle cool air wafts out of the grid. It’s like accidental leaving the bedroom window open on a summer’s evening, remarkably soothing actually.

Posting is a bit less complicated. There’s a slot for New Year’s post and Other post…

I prep myself for sleep – lights off, ear plugs in, eye mask on and settle down to pretend I’m at home with the window open. Would you believe it works? When I wake up it’s 8am. I am beyond excited. I take off my eye mask to see the sun edging around the curtains and Denis reading.

Exits are no longer complicated Here’s the exit symbols again

“I had a great night’s sleep.” he says.

I give him the look, the one that says, the opposite of – I’m so happy for you. But he can’t see the look he’s still reading and to be honest in the light of this new day in Osaka I had a great night’s sleep too. Great is relative.

“What’s that thing you’re not supposed to do with chopsticks?”

Wide Eyed and sleepy

December 29, 2023December 29, 2023 | Mairead

That’s the bridge to the man-made island

We made it to KIX airport in… (to be precise) the sea, close to Osaka. When they built the airport they also built the island it sits on. And there’s one long road and rail bridge linking this island to the mainland. Looking at these facts before we arrived I did wonder if our most challenging journey might be trying to find the bridge but no like everything else here so far, it was easy. To get to the bridge – go up the escalator and walk outside in a straight line from the door of the terminal, you can’t miss the train station on your right, the ticket office is opposite it, now take the train off the island. Could it be that easy?

First, a nice cup of tea. It’s 10am and a sunny 10 degrees (Celsius) but our body clocks think it’s 2am and someone’s left the sun on. It was 2am yesterday when we got out of bed to go to the airport in Dublin. And now 24 hours later we are keeping things simple and familiar and we head to Starbucks. Yes, I know we should be trying a Japanese cafe but hold judgment… it’s Starbucks but with a Japanese flavour.

Shiori (the daughters-in-law responsible for us being here) introduced me to oolong tea once and I loved it. Now back to today, as I’ve already had coffee for breakfast on the plane somewhere over the Gobi Desert, I asked for tea. Normally, I drink green tea but their green tea was something with milk (and I don’t like milk) but I remembered the oolong and asked if she had that… She did and was very impressed that we (obviously, non Japanese) knew what it was. Taking the chance to chat with an English speaker we told her about Shiori and exchanged addresses (not really) and promised to be back to see her when we are leaving Japan (maybe.) So far the welcome from everyone here is real and very encouraging.

As I sat drinking my oolong tea I noticed a woman come in and wheel her bag to a counter, take out her phone and charger and plug it into a socket. Nothing unusual yet. Then she walked off. She left her bag and phone on the counter and queued for her order. In the airport. At a Starbucks in this busy airport it seems to be true that your luggage and your phone are safe on their own.

Denis hadn’t notice this because he was busy working out how to get tickets for the train. The one to take us off the man made island. Turns out you can get a card called ICOCA and top it up and then tap as you go into and out of each train station. And it’s tourist friendly. We left Starbucks went up the escalator, walked straight ahead, the ticket office was on the left, we stood in a very orderly queue and when we reached the top we were guided to the next available desk. There a lady with excellent English explained her window was cash only and how much did we want to put in our card. We had one Japanese Yen note, I got in Dublin airport worth 10,000 Yen (about €75) Plenty for a few days train travel. We would have chatted more but the queue guide was directing the next customers so we just asked where the train to Rinku-town was, she sent us across to the station, down the escalator, get on the silver train and stay on board for one stop.

Tapping our new cards as we went through the barrier, we spotted the escalator and at the bottom there was a silver train waiting. We checked the map above the door, yes this is correct and waited the 4 minutes – exactly- until our train left. We knew it was about to depart when we saw the white gloved conductor check the doors. One stop later we were at our hotel.

Learning the characters – Exit looks like two fences one on top of the other and a box. One down, a few more to go

We’re here now sitting on a sofa in reception trying to stay awake as we wait for room check in to open. Should we sleep? (Please say yes.) Or should we stay awake until it gets dark and our body clocks line up with time over here in the East? Ok… it doesn’t matter what you say, while I was typing Denis seems to have dropped off. He’s snoring very quietly beside me. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a minute…

Coming Soon

December 28, 2023January 1, 2024 | Mairead

It’s 4.10am. We’re at the airport. We might be here a tad early – there’s 3 hours to our flight to Paris. Yes we’re flying to Paris… and from there to Japan. I still can’t believe it but here I am at the airport so it must be true. Hopefully I’ll find something to blog about and if I do you’ll be the first to know.

And we’re off…

The Imperial War Museum Duxford

October 20, 2023October 19, 2023 | Mairead

Did I tell you that I don’t want to go to any more war museums or aircraft museums or army museums…? To me they are places to go if you want to be sad. Denis loves them and so he was really excited when he saw that we would be passing very close to the Imperial War Museum on our route home. For the first time I asked him why is he so excited about going to a place where you see lots of machines for killing people. He was a little taken aback by my question. He sees the bravery of pilots and the technological advances of engineering that made these machines escape gravity and fly where I see death.

It interests me when anyone (even my husband!) is excited about something. As a socially uncomfortable introvert I need all the hacks I can get to lower the level of discomfort I often feel when talking to people in a social setting. I always put too much energy into the conversation and try really hard to cheer everyone up or tell them something interesting. My less uncomfortable friends tell me this is not necessary. All I need to do is ask the other person about themselves.

How hard could it be to ask someone about themselves? Unfortunately, I have somehow got it into my mind that asking someone about themselves is an invasion of privacy. Is it covered by GDPR? What if I ask some I’ve just met where they are from and they think I’m going to follow them home? Or write them long newsy letters? If I ask them what they work at, will they think I’m being nosey? Or shallow? While I’m wondering these things my level of anxiety increases but I smile bravely, so that they are not alarmed. And silence follows.

I think I mentioned a lady talking to me in the supermarket queue when we were in Bury St. Edmonds, didn’t I? She was a very chatty person. I had no anxious thoughts, thankfully, after all it wasn’t what I would consider a social occasion. She wasn’t expecting much from me and the odd nod and smile was enough. And maybe that was why I was brave and actually asked her a question. At some point in the conversation she said, “I must be bored I’m sorry I’m chatting your head off” and I asked her what she liked to do when she wasn’t bored.

There’s something not quite right about this map…

She paused for only a moment. Then her face lit up with a smile and she told me all about her garden and her grandchildren playing in her garden. Her happy energy made me smile too and we might have been there still except the Tesco cashier said, “next please”. We waved to each other as I left the shop and she made me think I could – maybe – crack the social anxiety.

Planes hang from the ceiling of the huge hanger…

The thing someone loves about their life is magical, just talking about it has the potential to change their energy. And not just their energy, ours too. And that’s why I went to the Imperial War Museum. It wasn’t too bad, I only felt sad when I saw the empty bag of fertiliser in the Northern Ireland exhibit. Denis didn’t see it, he saw lots of technology and really loved it.

Summary: People are very interesting in the way they love different things. Encouraging someone to talk about the thing they love can have magical effects. Query: What do you love?

Anglesey Abbey continued

October 10, 2023October 9, 2023 | Mairead

This is an apple tree under one of the front windows. Can you see an apple?

Urban Huttleston Rodgers Broughton (also known as Lord Fairhaven) bought Anglesey Abbey with his brother in 1926, he continued to live in the house after his brother had married and moved out. In 1966 when he died he left the house, its contents and the gardens to the National Trust.

The library is upstairs at the end of a long corridor. It has high ceilings and lots of books but the first thing you see as you enter the door is a huge painting on the wall opposite. It’s a John Constable original called The Opening of Waterloo Bridge, from 1817.

The shelves are recycled wood from Waterloo Bridge

I hadn’t noticed the painting when I first walked in but a volunteer in the Wardrobe Project told me to go back and have a look when I said I found it very interesting that the the wooden shelves with the books are made from salvaged wood… from the Waterloo Bridge. I didn’t check but I’m guessing the bridge needed updating after a hundred years of service and Urban was looking for wood. But maybe he was also interested in recycling? A man ahead of his time? But there’s something else that’s interesting about the library – the window.

A different volunteer asked me if I’d heard about the window, no I hadn’t. So she walked me to one end of the room and pulled back the curtain. Do you see the signatures? No. No way, yes I do… is that…? Urban was very friendly with royalty, the late queen and the present king included. And here scratched on the glass were their signatures.

…and here’s a close up of a section. Can you see the names scratched on the glass?

The Wardrobe Project involves cleaning all 12,000 pieces of Urban’s clothing using a very particular vacuum cleaner that can be set to gentle with a very odd attachment – a goat haired brush. After cleaning each piece of clothing is tagged with a six digit inventory code which is printed on a label and stitched to the piece of clothing. And two of the people involved were vacuuming what looked like plus-four trousers when I walked into the room. I wanted to ask questions but they had more than enough to be doing with the cleaning.

As I mentioned in the previous post my favourite part of the house was the kitchen because it was full of familiar old things. Like the red melamine table and chairs set – we had one of those when I was little!

And the fairy soap? Ok we didn’t have the soap but we had (and I still use) fairy washing up liquid. And the weighing scales with the individual weights? The grocery shop in our street used a weighing scales with weights to weight out biscuits and cheese.

The kitchen was made up of a few different rooms downstairs and it was the last section of the house visit. Next was out into the gardens. I had already walked by the lawn and forested section but now I was on my way to the Dahlia garden. There seemed to be a lot of interest in the Dahlias, so I considered skipping them but I’m glad I didn’t.

Individual weights on the weighing scales

Visiting the Dahlia Garden reminded me of something long forgotten… I almost bought dahlia bulbs to plant in the garden when I was a young Mum. They were so vibrant and colourful and something about planting an ugly bulb that would surprise me by growing into something beautiful caught my attention. But as soon as I read the bit on the instructions where you have to dig them up at the end of their season and replant the following year I put them back. Knowing I would forget to dig them up and then feel guilty when they died had put me off.

The bed of dahlias were first planted in 1952, there are 60 varieties and contain all the colours of the rainbow plus white. They are hidden behind a hedge and set in a curve so that you only see one or two colours at a time as you approach. There’s a quote from Urban on the information board, “The subtle thing about garden design is that no one can resist seeing what happens around a curve.”

I was taking lots of close up photos when I heard a couple chatting… to the flowers? There are full time gardeners employed here at Anglesey Abbey and one of them was in among the flowers, deadheading. The couple were talking to him and asking about taking up the bulbs at the end of the season. There’s no way they dig up the bulbs from all these flowers. Is there? And if they don’t dig up the bulbs then maybe I could give dahlias another chance.

It turns out they don’t exactly dig up the bulbs… they dig up pots. They plant each new bulb in a pot and plant the pot in the garden. Then at the end of the season they dig up the pots with the bulbs still in and store pot and bulb in the (potting?) shed until next year.

Summary: Lord Fairhaven (Urban) was a man before his time. Interested in recycling, garden design, reading and long lasting clothing, he had lots of friends and he let the royal ones graffiti his windows. Query: Will the Dahlias die if I don’t dig them up?

Anglesey Abbey and Gardens, Lode, Cambridgeshire

October 5, 2023October 4, 2023 | Mairead

The house had originally been an Augustinian priory but was closed by Henry VIII (remember the same happened at Bury St. Edmunds?) and a local farmer had kept his cows in what was now the dining room. It’s the oldest part of the house and remained intact even its vaulted ceiling. Awkward place to have a dining table but I can imagine this room would definitely inspire good conversation.

We arrived in the car park of Anglesey Abbey at lunchtime and I headed off to walk about half a mile down the drive to call at the house first. It was due to close at 2.30pm and I didn’t want to miss it. The car park had been almost full but on the other side of the visitor centre there was little evidence of a crowd as I passed huge lawns on one side and dark paths through the trees on the other. I may have been in a hurry to begin with but nature conspired to slow me down.

Matthew, the horologist, working on the pineapple clock. Can you see the pineapples?

Have I mentioned that at each house I have visited the first question the volunteer asks at the door is, Have you been round before? The same very specific wording and every time reminds me that this is somewhere people come back to again and again. And I can believe that, particularly about this house. There’s a lot here and it feels very cosy and lived in. My favourite part was the kitchens because they were so familiar. I’ll have to leave them, the Dahlia garden, the library window and the Wardrobe Project for another post.

Next door, the Oak Room, for after dinner drinks and cigars

The first room I walked into was the Living Room where afternoon tea was served at 5pm… unfortunately not today. Mathew, the horologist, was in attendance taking apart and cleaning a huge pineapple twirling clock. He had come all the way from Yorkshire and had already spent hours on this particular piece. I was in time to hear it chiming as he put the last little pineapple section on top. (Note: disappointingly, afternoon tea finished in 1966.)

One of the bathrooms, this one is called Windsor Bathroom.

It was while I was in the Living Room I heard the volunteer mention to another visitor that the family had made their money from sewage. It may not be entirely true but there was sewage involved. It is a love story and a little complicated…

Urban Huttleston Rodgers Broughton’s father (also called Urban, unfortunately) was a British civil engineer who worked for/with Issac Shone. Issac invented the hydro pneumatic sewage system (installed in the British Houses of Parliament). Urban’s father went over to America to install this same system in the house of the millionaire, Henry Rodgers, who was the Vice President of Standard Oil (remember ESSO?) While there Urban’s dad fell in love with Henry Rodgers’ daughter and they got married. When Urban was 13 his grandfather (the Standard Oil millionaire) died and Urban’s mother inherited $12.5 million and the family moved to the UK.

Ironing Urban’s trousers (the Wardrobe Project)

Urban (the Urban who owned this house) is also know as the 1st Lord Fairhaven and he is responsible for filling Anglesey Abbey and gardens with beauty and interest. In 1926, when he was 30, he and his brother Henry bought the house because it was close to their stud farm and the horse racing track at Newmarket. At the time they made an agreement that when either one of them married the other would buy out his share of the house. And that’s just what they did when Henry married in 1932. Urban remained in the house until he died in 1966. He bequeathed the house and its contents to the National Trust.

Peeping into the dining room, the oldest part of the house

I spent fours hours wandering around listening to stories of visits from the queen who was a friend, reading the information boards and soaking up the gardens. Literally, the moment I got back to the van the heavens opened and the rain lashed down. Such a magical place and I’m so glad I got the opportunity to visit. Thank you, Urban!

Summary: Falling in love with a millionaire’s daughter can make a big difference to the lives of your future children. A guy called Urban who was friends with the late queen and the present King created a beautiful place where anyone can now visit. There’s money in oil and sewage… not sure about the sewage.
Query: Would you give your house and all your treasures for future visitors to wander around in after you’re dead?