The ten year old book

| Mairead

(The boats and one of the cathedrals at Auxerre)

We’re in the town (could be a city) of Auxerre, it’s really lovely. The camper parking is just basic but the location is brilliant! Out the front window at the moment I can see narrowboats on the river. If I step outside I can hear horse chestnuts falling from the trees. Then there’s the cathedrals – four I can see across the river and they’re not small, they look to me like they could rival Notre Dame in Paris. This town must have been very important, maybe it still is.

(Still some left on the tree)

We got here around 10am, we had been on our way to a small village but I had a document to sign and post to the accountant. When I took down the printer I realised someone (that would be me…) hadn’t brought the power lead.. Big town might have a print shop or a library and that’s why we’re here.

(Love this house)

Off I went to the tourist off to inquire, it’s just across the river. There was a very helpful sign in the window saying it was closed, permanently. Right. There was an address for the new location, though. I set off for that.

(The games shop)

I was busy taking pictures of the beautiful old half-timbered buildings when I noticed a board game shop. I think to myself, Denis will be delighted! But even more amazing right beside it a craft shop with crafting sessions! It was closed… don’t worry it’ll be open later, I’ll be back.

(Very fancy clock tower)

More pictures and I’m now standing outside a book shop. Normally I’d be straight in as I love book shops but as I have the reading ability of a disinterested 4 year old (in French I mean) I resist. But there’s an adorable window display for a children’s book. It’s celebrating the fact that the book is 10 years old. Interesting.

(That’s the craft shop)

Very interesting. Children’s books are very interesting. To me, anyway. There are children’s books that never seem to go out of fashion. I’m thinking of the Hungry Caterpillar written and illustrated by Eric Carle, first published in 1969 and still selling all over the world. And there’s the French Little Prince written and illustrated by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, first published in 1943. There’s something about those books in their simplicity that makes them popular.

(That’s the book shop, the golden boot must mean something?)

I have to go in. Here’s a chance to see what a child of France in the 21st century cherishes, I feel like David Attenborough. There were a few customers in the shop, mostly under 5, so I fit right in. I spot our section, down low near the window. It takes me a while to locate the correct shelf because now I’m on all fours. Although there a big splash in the window, inside the shop the book is very discreet. And complicated…. there’s other books. It seems the author and the illustrator have published many, many other books about the same character in the ten years since they started but I feel I need to get to the source. To the one that started everything.

(Strange carving)

There’s no escape I have to find some French words to ask the lady behind the counter what was the first book but even in English that might be hard to explain. I give it a try. At first she seems confused but like all book shopkeepers she can read minds (try asking one for the new book they talked about on the radio about coffee and money – I bet they’ll know) and she searches for the colour change book. Just when it seems she can’t find it and I’ll never know, she takes apart the front window and gives me the shop’s only copy. All book shopkeepers are heroes!

(The 10 year old book!)

The book is called Le Loup qui changer de couleur by Orianne Lallemande and Éléanore Thuillier and it’s about a wolf who didn’t like his colour so he changed it, lots of times but in the end… I don’t want to spoil it for you so I’ll say no more. All I will say is the future of France is in good hands, the children are reading a beautiful book.

From Auxerre, Mairead.

(There’s Auxerre!)

The end is in sight…

| Mairead

(You might be able to make out the motorhomes in the distance?)

We have found a lovely spot beside the river Yonne and after all my talk yesterday about the magic of constantly moving on we’ve decided to stay a second night. Yesterday was very hot and today is wet and cool. Perfect day for short walks and long sessions working on the book. I’ve just finished the first draft of an introduction and I feel the end is in sight.

(Can you see that house has a boat tied to the garden gate?)

One of my draft readers (you know who you are!) suggested I add a bit of background, like our ages, how we met, etc. So I’ve been wandering around down memory lane uncovering how we met and why we travel together all these years later.

(Our view… sigh)

I’m having a little less success with the blurb about the book section but I’m tired writing now so I’ve stopped for the day. Just noticing that reminds me of all the times I kept going when I was tired and ended up with a head full of mean thoughts about myself. Rest is an underrated medicine. You know those new signs on the motorways that say Tiredness Kills? Well it’s not just for driving, tiredness also kills your spirit and shuts up the tiny, still voice inside you that wants to mind you. Rest.

Mind yourself, Mairead.

(That’s us in Gurgy!)

Back to Work!

| Mairead

(Beautiful strange sky last night in Gron)

I stopped doing nothing today and started working on the book correcting all my typos and writing an intro and a blurb for the amazon page. I’ve had a lot of help from my review team, for which I am very grateful. Thank you lovely people! There’s a possibility my grammar will improve, because if their help. If nothing else, I’m increasing my usage of commas. See if you notice a difference.

(Half timbered houses and old wood decorations in Saint-Julian-du-Sault)

We moved on from Gron this morning just 30 minutes down the road to a town called Saint-Julian-du-Sault. But first, I nearly forgot to mention the ham and cheese pie from the lady with the dictionary in Gron was absolutely divine! Go to her shop if you can!

(Pretty old sign post)

They have a lovely free parking spot with all the facilities at Saint-Julian-du-Sault. We arrived there around 9am and worked until noon. Then we spotted a map showing a walking route into the center of town. Always hoping to increase our step count we followed the map. There were loads of photo opportunities and a coffee opportunity.

(Three little ducks in front of the washing house)

Then we moved on. It’s hard to describe what it’s like to be able to move on at a moments notice. There’s something magical about it. It’s highly addictive and we might be addicts. We rarely stay in a place longer than two nights but we also rarely move on after only a couple of hours. This trip we have started doing just that.

(Look at the details!)

We’ll probably slow down eventually but in the meantime, we might get as far as Switzerland because Denis has spotted a Swiss science tour, that he wants to visit.

From the banks of the Yonne River, which is as good a place as any to tell Yvonne that I sent her mail… Mairead.

(Here’s Saint-Julian-du-Sault and you might be able to see Gron to the north?)

Lazy Sunday

| Mairead

(There was a bug hotel next door to the car park)

It’s Sunday… and we finally have nothing to do! But first let me bring you up to date. We travelled yesterday for most of the day to the banks of the Canal D’Orleans via the city of Chartres. It was hot. Over thirty degrees by the afternoon.

(You might be just able to make out Chartres Cathedral in the distance?)

We left our overnight spot at the town of Cambremer in the morning and headed for Chartres, famous for it’s cathedral. Also famous for it’s blue glass and a crypt and a steeple (two actually) with steps up to the top! We had our lunch in the car park just thirty minutes walk from the cathedral and changed into hot weather clothes. I got out the sun cream and the water bottles and… and we decided to get back on the road.

This is one of the reasons why I love Ireland, more than I used to, just because we travel. If someone had paid me a thousand euros yesterday I could not have walked for 30 minutes in that heat. Even though I really, really wanted to see the ancient glass – no one has been able to make the same colour glass despite modern technology. I really wanted to visit the crypt – probably nice and cool down there. And I really wanted to climb the tower – maybe not the climb bit but definitely the looking around at the top bit. It’s never too hot in Ireland to walk for thirty minutes. We turned up the air conditioning and drove on.

(Nightfall in Vitry-au-Loges)

Vitry-au-Loges is a small but perfectly delicious town on the banks of the Canal d’Orleans. We arrived at about four in the afternoon and closed all the shutters to keep our little home cool. It did not work. I went out to the bench beside the canal to find somewhere cooler to write to you. It was not. Then I completely forgot to take any pictures. The heat makes me forget stuff. Sorry… there’s one in the darkness but it’s just not the same.

Denis cooked dinner, my mother-in-law rang and I hadn’t the heart to tell her I’d like some of the “terrible weather” she was experiencing in Cork. We went for a walk and I accidentally took the only picture of that lovely town. By morning it was overcast (thank you clouds) and cooler. We emptied the cassette (not the musical kind) filled and emptied the water tanks and set off for the day.

(The church in Gron)

Then we had nothing to do! For some reason long forgotten we had picked our next parking spot just 90 minutes down the road. And here we are in Gron. We parked and went for a walk and happened upon the combined butcher/delicatessen/mini-market. We like to give business to the small shops in the towns we visit especially when we get to stay for free, so we decided to buy their dish of the day. A very appetising sounding lamb stew.

(Walking path to the town)

The butcher welcomed us and called out to his wife (I’m assuming it was his wife but I really have no idea) who came out to serve us. By now the smell of the stew was mouthwatering. She soon realised we were not in fact native speakers and went back inside… to get her dictionary! This is the very first time we have ever had this experience in France. This is a great day. I will remember this day. This day could mean I no longer have to butcher (pun intended) the French language. This lovely lady could be the new wave of French people being happy to butcher English. We could all communicate in a version of English French English. It could work. We might lose our fear of getting the grammar or pronunciation wrong and just connect. Our gestures and eyes and mixed up words could do all the work. I am very excited.

(Our dinner!)

When she had finished looking up the dictionary she was able to explain that the lamb stew was over. Over? Gone. Finished. The lovely smell was their dinner. If only the whole new wave of communication had started last year they might have realised we were falling in love with their dinner and invited us to share it but no. Maybe next year. We bought a ham, cheese, egg and cream tart instead though so now we have our own dinner.

(My snood-in-progress)

Sunday afternoon, day 3 in France, it’s raining outside (oh happy day!) and we finally have nothing to do. And we do what we remember our families did on a Sunday afternoon in Ireland in the 60’s… We turned on the radio (kinda, it’s Seth Godin reading his book Tribes on the Audible app) while Dad read the newspaper (sort of, Denis is playing Zelda on his Nintendo switch) and Mammy knits a jumper (almost, I’m crocheting a snood – it’s like a scarf.)

Wouldn’t it be interesting to think that in fifty years from now people will still choose to sit together listening or making or playing games on Sunday afternoons when they have nothing to do?

From gloriously rainy France, Mairead.

(That’s Gron in the blue circle)

On being in France with nothing to do…

| Mairead

(That’s where we got the fresh water)

We’re here! We docked on Friday at 4pm (thats 3pm Irish time). As I mentioned a couple of days ago I’m going to document what it’s like to arrive in France and have nothing to do but I’m not sure this is it… Maybe I’ll try again on Sunday.

This has been a lovely exercise (thank you Aileen!) and I’m thinking I’d like more mental exercise… so I’m going to turn on the comments and see if I can persuade you to help me explain what travelling by motorhome is really like. I know it’s probably a pain for you to ask a question in the comments or maybe it’s scary (like taking all your clothes off and running down the street?) but it’s just you, me and a few people who’ve been with us since the Garda check in Rosslare. What could go wrong?

(The garages with gas app…)

Back in Greystones I had a great idea (does it ever get old?) to sterilize our water tank. We have a 120 litre tank for water. Drinking water, showering water, dish washing water and flushing the toilet cassette water. I am a little concerned about drinking the water from it so I buy bottles of water at the supermarket and drink them, boil them for tea, cooking etc. Then I started to wonder about drinking so much bottled water…

(One can buy washing machines in French supermarkets… we can’t )

Anyway I thought I would take a step in the right direction and get the tank nice and clean. I looked up the internet and found motorhome people were using vinegar to clean their water tanks. I’ve been using vinegar for cleaning at home for months and for weed maintenance in the garden (it works great on brambles, powerful stuff) so I stopped searching for other solutions and bought a few litres. The process involved pouring the vinegar into a three quarters full tank of water, going for a long drive, emptying the vinegar water and refilling with clean water. On Thursday morning I filled the water and the vinegar and we drove to Rosslare. The water sloshed around doing it’s cleaning as we drove and then again while we sailed to Cherbourg.

(Or coffee machines… we use manual)

On arrival we had to find a place to empty the vinegar water and take in clean water. So we drove around the corner to the motorhome Aire at Cherbourg port. That’s when we realised all the water was still in the fresh water tank, it needed to be in the grey water tank to empty it. It took us an hour to empty from one to the other and out to the town drain and then refill but while we were waiting we met a lovely couple from New Zealand and as always happens we shared tips.

(Or amazing cakes… we didn’t)

Then we needed something for dinner – as we have to turn off the gas while parked on the ship, the fridge warms up overnight, so to guard against salmonella we stock up when we arrive. We plotted a route to a supermarket in Bayeux, about 60 minutes from Cherbourg. On the way we remembered we were low on gas. We use gas for cooking, heating the cabin and the water and for powering the fridge when we’re not plugged into land power. Last year we had a refillable bottle installed which means we don’t have to bring enough gas bottles for the whole trip – gas bottles have different connections here so we can’t swap a bottle when we buy a refill. Of course when you don’t have to bring the gas – it’s available at certain garages – you forget about it. We forgot. No problem, we have an app, found a garage, plotted a new route. Groceries and gas on board it was now 7pm. We were hoping to be further south beside a forest eating bbq steak, by now. Never mind, we’d drive for an hour and find a nice enough place and maybe cook the steak inside.

(The crêperie was in the middle of a huge garden, reminded me of Mount Usher in Ashford)

It was twilight by the time we reached the town of Cambremer. All thoughts of cooking inside or out had evaporated but we’d seen a sign for a crêperie and it was open for another hour. We parked, walked and ate the most amazing crêpes outside as night fell.

(We left early this morning after a walk through the town)

This is what it’s like when you have nothing to do, you do whatever really needs to be done in that moment, you muddle through, you make decisions in the moment and you realise there’s nothing to stress about, only decisions to make and then move on. We’ve been doing this motorhome thing for four years now and it’s still a thrill when we arrive in France and we remember there’s nothing to do… except take the next step. What if we didn’t have to wait until we arrived in France?

Sitting by the Canal d’Orleans thinking of you, Mairead.

Ps. I keep forgetting to show you the map…

Ideas and Projects

| Mairead

(That’s the English Channel out there)

Day 2 here and we are on the high seas (not high at all, in fact very flat thank you, sea) and I want to tell you about the ideas I had when we got home in June. First one had its birth in the Donnybrook Fair cafe just three months earlier. To go off on a tangent again for a moment… somewhere years ago I remember hearing about cafe society in Paris in the late 1800’s. My impression was that the intellectuals and artists came together informally over an espresso and possibly a croissant and had ideas and made plans. Well, as a big fan of the coffee and croissants I was very attracted. Not just for the croissants but the ideas and plans sounded so exciting especially the particular idea of a community of like minded people supporting each other. It was all a little bit intoxicating. So… subliminally at least since about 2012 I must have been attempting to rejuvenate cafe society. Up until the birth of this particular idea in March the only thing I was birthing was more kilos on the hips and by then I was addicted to the croissants.

Anyways, to get back to the cafe and the birth of… let’s call it, selling-my-art. To be honest this idea had birthed many, many times and had died many many times, also. For so many reasons, mainly shame though. For those unaccustomed to attempting to sell their art I need to tell you it’s a lot like taking all your clothes off and running up your town’s busiest street shouting, Look at me! Look at me! Oh and in this scenario you don’t look so good, you haven’t been working out and you forgot to shave. Maybe you’ve experienced something similar in a nightmare? If you have you are familiar with the shame.

(First sighting of France)

I put my clothes back on many times and gave up this idea but it just kept coming back. On that faithful day in Donnybrook Fair back in March a community of two of us decided we’d take off our clothes and run through the streets… together. I can tell you it’s less shameful when you’re running naked through the streets with another human. (Note: no clothes were actually taken off and we didn’t run either.)

By the middle of July I had sold something! To a stranger! The following week my mother bought a print over the Internet. Not my print – I didn’t have any prints and I definitely had no way of selling them over the internet… but it gave me a little nudge.

(There’s a tiny shop on the ship)

You learn a lot taking off your clothes and running around naked and one of the things we learned was that there was a lot more to learn, a lot more to do and unless we took the very first plunge we wouldn’t even have something to sell. So Idea1 back in June was our first plunge – to find a way to produce prints and sell them. The funny thing is that mostly everyone who hears about this wants to help. I have an idea (another one! Told you it was a superpower) that this community will keep developing and grow into… who knows what?!

Idea 2 is different, it involved turning our house into an Airbnb destination while we were wandering Europe in the motorhome. Seems like a good idea, right? But just as I was decluttering like a ninja and wallpaper stripping like a professional the government changed the rules and it’s become a bit more complicated to let a whole house. On the bright side the house looks 100% better than it did! And so does the garden. The wallpaper stripping continues, the garden needs more work and we can’t get into the shed yet so we will need a skip when we get back. Even if we’re not ready for business by the next trip we will have a decluttering house and a colourful garden!

(Don’t like the sound of that immersion suit…?)

And then there was the retreat. The Nurture in Nature Retreat was my friend Linda’s idea. She designed it based on what she would want from a weekend nurturing the spirit. Funny enough designing it was like being in another cafe society – a community supporting each other. Planning it was a lot like going on the retreat.

After I set up the web page to attract a tribe of people who wanted to attend what we were designing and planning I began gathering seeds, pressing flowers, making journals (our craft project) and wondering what I would be able to bring to the table.

(It’s a beautiful day in France)

Linda loves Nature. She and her husband, Paul, designed and built their own garden earlier this year. They love good food, Paul catered the entire weekend and I’m not just saying it – the food was amazing. Linda had attended a retreat some years ago that had a profound effect on her life. She wanted to combine her love of nature, her love of healthy foods and her desire to teach skills that relieve stress and anxiety to others. I was at a bit of a loss what my contribution might be. Linda was convinced the retreat had to take place over three days including a dip in the sea at sun rise! This was two days longer than I though possible to be “on duty” and there was definitely no way I was getting into the Irish sea…

(I love the colour and the angles)

The thing about a community that supports ideas or projects though, is that the energy generated by the community is more than the combined energy of each individual. In the end I had no problem being “on duty” because it didn’t feel like duty it felt like being with friends. My biggest worry that I would forget people’s names was unfounded and I even took my clothes off (I did have my swimming togs on!) and ran screaming into the Irish Sea! I loved it! And the thing I brought to the table? Me, just me and it was enough.

(That’s the captain’s spot hanging over the side up there…)

When I wrote at the end of our trip in June about the little voice in my head that was telling me I never finished anything I was hoping that by sharing it I would somehow silence it. Turns out it can’t be silenced but it doesn’t have to be. Just don’t give it attention. Give your attention to the act of continuing and doing the next thing and taking the next plunge and doing the next project and bringing yourself to the table in a community that supports your ideas and your projects.

Within sight of the French coast, Mairead.

Autumn 2019 To France

| Mairead

(Our picnic spot this afternoon…)

Hello you! We’re off to France and we’re taking you with us. Are you ready? The Garda in Rosslare checked that there were only the two of us in the van so you’re safe to come out now. As it’s France, there’s probably going to be beautiful picture opportunities and the food is definitely going to be amazing. I might need to talk about facilities (I mean toilets) but I’ll keep it brief. Something tells me rubbish bins and recycle bins might be a problem this time, I’ll let you know. One thing for sure Ruby is in tip top condition since her visit to the motorhome mechanic in France in June so we don’t envisage any drama there. We have an idea the route will take us left at Cherbourg and then south east as we search for parking with a view.

It took two hours longer than we planned to leave the house. And in spite of having those two extra hours I still managed to forget something. Nothing important. The list of important things is very small: passports, money, cards, phones and Denis’ computer. Oh and the motorhome. We have remembered all the important things.

The something I forgot was my phone’s tripod. I had this great idea that I was going to YouTube some crafting. I’m great with the ideas. This isn’t me blowing my own trumpet, it’s just true! I have no problem coming up with ideas for new projects. I do, however have a bit of a problem finishing all my projects. Well, let me rephrase that, I used to have a problem finishing all my projects. Things have changed.

(Yes our picnic spot is at a petrol station… 30 minutes from home)

You might remember the book from the last blog? The one I was afraid I wouldn’t complete? Well, I didn’t complete it. Are you shocked? Would you like to hear the whole story? As always I have buckets of time today and tomorrow because today we’re driving to the harbour (Rosslare) and tomorrow the captain of Stena Line is doing the work of sailing the ship across the Irish Sea and then the English Channel to Cherbourg.

Ok back to the whole story… It’s about a woman who was great at thinking up new ideas and she was great at imagining them being very fast to finish. The beginnings were fantastic. Full of the sheer joy of anticipation. Imagining idea after idea finished in no time at all. But the endings, they were terrible, full of angst and recriminations. Every little or big idea took way longer than she imagined. Too long, she thought. This will never be finished, she cried. She became disenchanted, disillusioned, disappointed, disempowered and distinctly sad. I’m not sure if you’ve ever had this experience but being distinctly sad can bugger up an idea and scupper a project. The longer the project took the sadder she got and in the end she nearly always gave up.

(I didn’t sleep well last night with all the excitement and so… I was up for sun rise! Isn’t Ireland only gorgeous?)

You might need to go back a few posts to remind yourself of how worried I was about not getting the book project finished. I was afraid, no, mortified that I might give up. So there I was in June, newly back from my travels ready to finish the book when I got another idea… actually I got a few ideas and a retreat.

(Can you see the boat with the water skier behind? That was 7.08am today (Thursday) in Greystones!)

I’ll tell you about the ideas and the retreat tomorrow but first I want to tell you that I found a way to recognise that having loads of ideas is actually a superpower… as long as you follow the rules: 1. One cannot turn all their ideas into projects and 2. Projects take longer than one initially thinks, a lot longer. I will be finishing the previously mentioned book project on this trip and Denis says there’s probably ten hours left in it… of course we all know he’s a bit too optimistic for my liking. So, there’s probably about thirty hours left in the book project. I’ll be starting it on Monday.

(And here’s sunset, 8.17pm Rosslare)

In the meantime I promised my friend that I would tell her what it’s like to arrive in France and have nothing to do, nothing at all (she had a hard week at work). I’m taking the weekend off all ideas and projects so that I can tell her and I’ll tell you too.

Wish me luck, Mairead.

Need a Break?

| Mairead

(Preparing for workshop)

There was a slight chill in the air this morning. Does that mean it’s autumn? Then it must be nearly time for us to get back on the road.

But first… my crafty pal, Linda and I are running a weekend workshop in the gorgeous Bobbio center near Magheramore beach, Co.Wicklow on the last weekend in August. There’ll be nature, crafting, swimming (in the sea!) and loads more but mainly it will be about slowing down in natural surroundings. We are calling it a retreat but it’s not a religious retreat, more a retreat from busy and stress, a retreat into nature. A retreat with play. We are really enjoying this planning stage and can’t wait to share it.

(Magheramore Beach)

We would love you to join us. There are some places available and you’ll find all the details on Mindcraft.com (click to have a look!)

Back to painting, Mairead.

End of the road

| Mairead

(Here’s our entire route from the Rego app…)

Thank you for being with us on the journey, now we’re all back where we started. We’ve been back a week and have managed to do some travelling in Ireland in that time. It’s just as beautiful here as it is in France and Spain and Portugal, by the way. The weather? Not as different as we used to think.

(Listening to a busker at the Rock of Cashel)

Ruby has been emptied, the washing machine has been filled and emptied many times and we are getting used to having extra space, extra power sockets, unlimited electricity, unlimited data and a wild garden. We’ve noticed having a car makes us walk less as does having a washing machine. During our forced stay in Benet I hit my step count just by going over and back to the laundry machines.

(Noticing sunset near Cloyne)

I am, as I decided when we reached the journey ending, at a beginning. It’s up to me to decide what this is, what I want to be telling myself and you for the next few months. Do you think it’s possible to live intentionally with a story you tell yourself? I think we live in stories we tell ourselves all the time, just accidentally. Telling an intentional story would mean choosing what you really want to be, do, feel, think.

(Smiling at the cute postbox in Dungarvan)

Our attitude to the weather is an accidental story we tell ourselves. In Ireland we believe the weather is supposed to be good, we are disappointed when it’s not. We complain about it all the time. What if we believed the weather was supposed to be terrible? On a wet and miserable day we would nod our heads and carry on. But on a day when the sun rose to a cloudless sky (like today) we would be astonished, in awe. We’d still just carry on but we’d notice the beauty… and we’d feel it.

(Remembering Lisbon scooter rental at the bike rental in Dublin)

I am quite nervous about sharing my plans for this beginning because I’m not at all confident that I can successfully complete them, so maybe I shouldn’t even start them. Weirdly, that’s a helpful realization and leads me to the first intention: to notice myself thinking, you never finish anything, you won’t be able to do this and carry on doing what I’m doing anyway.

(Listening to the son making music…)

So here’s my intentional story for the next few months… I will compile the blog posts over these last eighty-something days into an ebook and put it up for sale on Amazon. You never finish anything, you won’t be able to do this. When that’s done I will create a short and simple video course about how to compile your writing into an ebook and sell the course. You never finish anything, you won’t be able to do this. I will get up every day at 6am to get this work done. You never finish anything, you won’t be able to do this. I will incorporate healthy habits, like walking, eating well, practicing mindfulness and noticing beauty. You never finish anything, you won’t be able to do this.

I’m just getting started, Mairead.