Beja: The Promised Land

January 29, 2016January 28, 2016 | Mairead

Mapa

(We got a map, Lar!)

We’ve been in a bit of a wilderness. Still on our journey south, in search of warm air and bright skies. From time to time we find them. Then we can’t find a place to stay… We found both in Beja, a very old town in the Alentejo region of Portugal. That (very big) region stretches between the Atlantic sea and Spain and from above the north-east of Lisbon to the Algarve.

Portugal Mine Village

(Oranges growing by the path in the mine village!)

Being in the wilderness has had some surprising bonuses, but first some surprising downsides… We found a great camper van parking area in Grandola (it’s west of Beja, if you’re plotting our journey, Sally – btw in primary school we used to plot the routes of huge cargo ships travelling the world) within walking distance of a big supermarket (where they sold Kerrygold cheese… we didn’t even know there was such a thing) on one side and a small town on the other. All was well until six am when the truck drivers arrived to start their day. Trucks make a very loud noise when they start up. They were all gone by the time we were having breakfast.

Beja Street

(Street in Beja)

The following night we thought we had the perfect spot, a camper van car park near an old mine museum, closed when we arrived but would be open in the morning. To add to its attractiveness there were two other campers parked when we arrived. It was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by farmland, roads too potholed for big trucks, perfect. Well… it had just got dark when Jimmy (name changed) arrived, I thought he was from one of the other campers but it turned out he was a down on his luck Dutchman needing the train fare to Lisbon… He didn’t like Anchovies but he had some ham and cheese instead.

Beja House Tiles

(Lots of houses have tiles on the outside)

Then we arrived in Beja. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, the reviews of the site were not glowing. But I needn’t have worried. There are toilets with toilet paper and soap and paper towels. There’s electricity. There are no trucks. There is no sign of Jimmy. The main bonus of travelling through the wilderness is that on the other side you are so happy when the basics are covered. The wilderness has lowered our expectations. I was wondering why that was a good thing and I think it’s because our expectations force us to fulfil them. If we don’t fill them then we are dissatisfied….

Even if we already have enough of everything, Mairead.

Portugal: Day 1 Part 3

January 25, 2016January 24, 2016 | Mairead

(Love this! And it’s exactly the right size for the roads)

So…We found a campsite in a forest full of birdsong, the wi-fi wasn’t great, we set off in search of mobile wi-fi, drive on little roads. me I’m nervous, the perfect Phone Shop is closed…Denis has another idea… we drive up and down the steepest roads in the world (might be slight exaggeration.) Eventually we find a place to park and another shop but still no wi-fi sim thingy and as we stand in front of a McDonalds sign Denis has another idea…

(Scary bridge… into Lisboa)

Let me pause here to tell you something I understood at that precise moment… Before we left Greystones one of my friends asked how could I spend so much time with my husband in a small camper van without wanting to kill him. I didn’t have an answer, because sometimes he is very annoying and I am often very annoyed with him and I think of ways I could hurt him (just kidding… kinda). I mean if it were up to me we would never have left the bird filled glade. I would be smelling lovely after my shower and I might even have a book in my hand. But funny thing, he doesn’t stay very annoying for long and on some occasions, like that moment as we were looking at the “lying” McDonalds-one-minute-away sign and thinking about the long list of things that went wrong today, he’s not fazed he’s still coming up with new ideas and I think… I’d like to be like that, maybe he’s not so bad…

(Sure it is, right here… Seen in Lisboa)

His idea didn’t work but weirdly it didn’t matter anymore. His idea? The lovely assistant at the last shop had said there was another shop, at the train station, they would definitely have the wi-fi sim thingy. We thanked her but having experience of the cobbled stoned streets we knew we were never going there. Until Denis has his latest idea… Denis thought the hospital would definitely have a taxi rank. We could easily make the sign of a train to the driver and there would be a taxi rank at the station to return to the hospital (whose name was amazingly easy to remember and pronounce – Padre Americano!)

(We’re finally here!)

With the help of two (very friendly, very helpful) taxi drivers we explained where we wanted to go (yes I said Choo, Choo and made train wheel movements with my hands!) But when we arrived at the train station we couldn’t see any shops. Immediately (seriously, within seconds of arriving!) a man waiting for his train called to us in perfect English “Are you lost?”

(Lisboa during the day)

Let me pause again to say… you might be a little suspicious of a stranger at the train station offering help (no? just me then…) but remember, all day long we experienced very friendly, very helpful strangers in this strange land. So I choose trust instead of fear and said, yes we are lost. He directed us to the Phone Shop. Of course he did.

(Lisboa at night)

Inside a very friendly, very helpful assistant (I am not kidding, she went out of her way to help us, to apologise for her English and to tell us about another shop) gave us the bad news… although she did indeed have the particular sim, in fact three of them, they were all out of date and she couldn’t reactivate them. We thanked her (in Portuguese, our pronunciation getting better with all the practice we get to thank people here!) and left to get our taxi to the Padre Americano hospital.

(Table for two at a balcony in Belém, Lisboa)

Ok that was it, Denis was all out of ideas, we’d failed again but we were surprisingly upbeat…. there really was nothing more we could do, we’d done our best and now it was time to stop. Back at the car park in warm and cosy Ruby we broke open a bottle of Spanish wine and had tinned salmon sandwiches (one slice of bread each, almost carbohydrate-free) for dinner. We could start again in the morning but for now it was time to sleep.

(Can you see that red bridge in the background? That’s how we left Lisboa… do these people have no fear?)

The next day was different. Travelling by big wide motorway we arrived in Lisbon (called Lisboa) after lunch. Our campsite is situated right beside a motorway exit in a big park. There are lots of birds here too. We went into Lisboa on the bus and queued in the mobile phone shop for an hour. They had the mobile wi-fi sim thingy.

We have the internet! But I’m just listening to the birds, Mairead.

Portugal: Day 1 Part 2

January 24, 2016January 23, 2016 | Mairead

(Light at the end of the tunnel?)

Ok so to continue from yesterday….. We find a campsite in a forest full of birdsong but the wi-fi isn’t great, we pay for the night and set off in search of mobile wi-fi. We drive on little roads. I’m a little (=a lot) nervous. We find the perfect Phone Shop…..the shop is closed…

There’s a very helpful hours-of-business sign that says it’s closed on Thursdays. Yep, today is Thursday… I feel the rocking start again. But that’s when we discover something beautiful… the Portuguese people are very friendly and very helpful. The lady in the shop next door stops what she’s doing to tell us something… which we can’t understand. But eventually we do understand – there’s another shop in the town. We decide to regroup and have a coffee before walking to the town to look for the other shop. The lady in the coffee shop teaches us the Portuguese for two medium white coffees – in case you ever need to know, it sounds like Duos Maya Let, again very friendly and very helpful. We set off with renewed hope….

(As I said in an earlier post… there are no photos from this time – above from the beautiful northern coast of Spain)

Until… we accidentally turn right instead of left leaving the supermarket car park. Fifty minutes later, after even narrower roads. my humming now joined by little squeals, we arrive back at the supermarket. This was a very low point for me and the exact moment when we decide to find a way back to the nice wide motorway and forget entirely about returning to the beautiful bird filled glade….

(Nice motorway)

The atmosphere lifts a little and it seems this day will be fine….. and on route to the motorway there’s another town, it seems bigger, there’s an entry for it in our camper van parking book… Denis has an idea! We’ll try again – we will go to the camper van car park and walk or take a bus to the nearest Phone Shop. Excellent idea….. Not really.

(Fond memories of the nice barman and the free food in Borio)

One hour later, after roads much steeper, much narrower, with slippy cobblestones we give up the search for the camper van car park and go back to the motorway plan. You will find it hard to believe (well, I did) but we try again at the next bigger town! And can you believe it, the exact same cobble stoned streets (much steeper than Patrick’s Hill in Cork city) await us there?

By now it’s getting dark, I am meditating (or is it a catatonic trance?) but Denis loves a challenge so he persists and finally finds a camper van car park. We park up, close the windows and go for a walk. I have an idea that walking will get rid of my newly acquired nervous tic. Soon we spot a sign for McDonalds and we are again filled with possibility. All McDonalds have wi-fi… we’ll be able to get online and work something out. The sign says it’s just one minute away, great. So we walk in the direction of the arrow….

(Ashleigh’s adorable dog, Max – animals help you stay calm, don’t they?)

We never do find McDonalds, we pass a big hospital and ten minutes later another sign saying McDonalds is still one minute away…. Then we spot what might be another supermarket. (We don’t know if it is or not because we don’t know what the supermarkets are called in Portugal and we don’t have internet to google – maybe computers are bad for us?) But it is a supermarket and YES there is a Phone Shop! I am overjoyed because I had begun humming again. The shop is open and the assistant is very friendly, very helpful. But… she does not have the mobile wi-fi sim thingy…

We leave smiling at the nice lady but feeling a little crestfallen. The McDonalds sign is lit up now but we would not be fooled by it’s promise of wi-fi only one minute away and we walked back past the hospital. There was food, light and heat awaiting us in Ruby. We’d be just fine.

Then Denis had another idea.

To be continued… again, Mairead.

First Steps to Portugal

January 17, 2016 | Mairead

(From a lovely little book called One Small Step Can Change Your Life, Robert Maurer)

We’re travelling again. This time, Portugal. We’ve never been to Portugal. It’s a long way, the sat nav says it will take 17 hours from our landing in France. It’s a bit difficult for me to imagine a journey of 17 hours, I think driving for two hours is long. Happily we won’t be travelling the entire 17 hours in one go. We’ll stop and go a few times.

(Travelling along the M11 towards the port of Rosslare)

We’ve known since we returned from the last trip that we would be going again in January. I have never liked January – it’s cold, it’s dark, there are grey skies and lots of rain. This year there was even more rain. What’s to like about that? Leaving it behind is a good thing, right? Right, but a funny thing happened this January.

(Our cabin, leaving Rosslare for our sailing to France)

This January everything seemed better… Yes there was rain. Yes there were grey skies. Yes it was cold (not as cold as usual.) But there were also blue skies and dry days, there was even sunshine! Was there sunshine last January? How come I’m noticing sunshine this January? I don’t know for sure but I have some thoughts…..

For now, we are about to dock at Cherbourg and do something we’ve never done before – experience France in January. I’ll be aiming to send you a couple of posts a week, so, talk to you soon, Mairead.

It’s over… for now

October 9, 2015October 8, 2015 | Mairead

(A wedding in Surgeres… Thinking of you, Linda and Paul!)

We’re sitting on the ferry hearing Irish voices for the first time in a long time. Mostly they sound kinda nice, friendly, sing-songy, ordinary, gentle too. I was getting used to missing eavesdropping. Now that’s back I’m overwhelmed by the input. I had forgotten there was so much more information than just the words. Consider the eyebrow movement your mother used when she said, “How much?” If she added a certain head tilt you knew you were in big trouble. (Did you hear the tone when you read that two-word question?)

(Narrow street in Nantes)

Every day we make additions to the meaning of the words we hear depending on tone and body language. The people talking to us make additions to the words they hear us say. If we’re really lucky we make the right additions and they make the right additions and we understand each other. Communication is something we take for granted and we usually think the words we say are clear and that of course the person we’re talking to will understand exactly what we mean… but what if they don’t? If they don’t it gets a bit messy.

(Passageway in Chateau Comtel, Carcassonne)

Spending time in a country where I assume I will not understand the people has made me more aware of the possibility that I don’t understand the people in my own country, speaking the language I’m fluent in…. One day last week in Nantes Denis needed to visit the mobile phone shop, Orange. If you’ve ever had to go into a mobile phone shop in any country you’ll have had a similar experience. It’s very slow, there’s lots of queuing. The handshake when the assistant brings you to his workstation is particularly French (and lovely) but the rest is very similar.

(My favourite dishwasher!)

Anyway, I was sitting on an orange (kid you not!) sofa in the Orange shop waiting for him when an older, very well dressed lady sat down beside me. We did the bonjour/bonjour and she said a few more words and I… smiled and nodded (probably appropriate?) but then she said something else and I just knew it was a question. She was looking at me and waiting. For a very short moment I considered more smiling and more nodding but for the first time in France (with a French person) I recognised connection. You know the moment when you trust that the person (whom you don’t know) in front of you is safe? Is worth taking the time to communicate with. Not a huge communication, not deep and meaningful words… yet you somehow connect.

(Sunset in Asserac)

So, I didn’t just smile and nod, Instead I searched deep into my faulty French and said I’m sorry, I don’t understand, I speak only a little French. Her eyes lit up, she laughed, she took my hand, she gently patted my arm and she said something. I have no idea what she said, yet I know exactly what she said…. she told me it was ok, she told me I was ok, she told me everything was fine. Then she asked me what language I spoke and she told me she didn’t know any of that either. All the time she held my hand and patted my arm and we both smiled. Then the assistant called her name and she left to get her phone fixed.

Maybe we say too many words when all we really need to do is connect, Mairead.

Feeling some madness…

October 7, 2015October 6, 2015 | Mairead

(Can you see this kite surfing guy’s feet and surfboard are out of the water?)

It rained a lot last night. Lots of rain, lots of wind. Teeny tiny bit of sleep. Not feeling too bubbly today. So I’m reminded of something Eckhart Tolle wrote “When you complain you make yourself a victim. Leave the situation, change the situation or accept it. All else is madness.” It’s kinda nice to find patterns in the things you see and experience and relate them to the way you feel inside, isn’t it? I think so. I think it helps to understand the feelings inside.

(This boat was just sitting on the beach this morning… could someone look up French salvage laws, please – we might own a boat)

So, here’s us having a nice old-time wandering around France, minding our own business. Loving the sun and the pleasant temperatures at this time of year. Then, the storms arrive. From nowhere they come…. And one might be tempted to whine and grumble. At home we might say “desperate weather, isn’t it?” to the postman or the assistant in the bank or the next door neighbour.

(More doodling today)

In France I haven’t a clue how to say anything about the weather and when I consider looking it up (or asking Thierry) there’s no incentive to do so. There’s no good that can come out of telling the French people in the camper van next door that it’s raining… They already know. Sometimes it rains. Get over it. There’s at least four guys out on the water doing their kite surfing thing. They’re already wet so a bit of rain doesn’t bug them and the wind is very useful when you have a big huge kite.

(Fence post with organic decoration)

So how’s this relate to feelings? Sometimes we feel down, maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s an insensitive friend, maybe it’s a disappointment – life can be very disappointing. So we talk to ourselves or others with words something like “desperate feeling, I’m having”. Maybe we whine a bit, grumble a bit and complain some. What if we had to translate our complaints into French (or Swahili if you’re fluent in French) would we bother? Like the rain, the feelings will be gone soon and like the wind for the kite surfers, they are useful – they remind us we’re alive!

Sure isn’t it great to be alive? Mairead.

Happy Puppydog Day

September 11, 2015September 11, 2015 | Mairead

Souillac River Dordogne

(Fishermen on the Dordogne, just over the hedge from our pitch)

We have reached the Dordogne and it’s very hot. We arrived on Wednesday around lunch time. Very slow at the best of times the heat makes me much slower and in turn that can make me irritable and then annoyed with myself for being irritable. Bit of a vicious circle really… Denis was very glad there was an Apple event and a good wi-fi connection to submerge himself in. Eventually my body became acclimatised and I bounced back with the energy and disposition of a happy puppy. Now, as my happy-puppy-self two things occur to me… First, I didn’t think it would possible for me to be irritable here in my dream life. And second, surely being annoyed with myself for my irritability is counter-productive?

Signpost Souillac

(It’s a sign!)

So, my happy-puppy-self woke up this morning and realised the best of the day (temperatures of less that 25 degrees) was before lunch and if I wanted to experience that I had to jump out of bed straight away! So I did. I went off to reception to tell them we were going to stay another night and to collect our breakfast (baguette and croissants.) But, horror of horrors there was no bread or croissants! (I had forgotten to reserve them yesterday.) Fortunately, happy puppy is full of forgiveness and I decided it was definitely cool enough for a walk to town. Denis (whose default disposition is happy puppy) and I set off to find café au lait and croissants and we found something even better – market day!

Market

(The view at breakfast)

Market day involves lots of people watching and the most interesting people to watch were the stall holders. There was one lady who was selling vanilla pods and some other unidentified vanilla things. People were stopping to try her produce and she was smiling all the time, even when they didn’t buy anything. She looked very happy and sort of proud of her wears. If I had any idea what to do with vanilla pods I’d definitely have bought some because her smile and her pride made me believe in her product!

Veggies

(The veggie stall)

After our coffees we wandered around the stalls and spotted very good-looking humous (well… we thought it was humous.) We were engrossed in how lovely it looked when the stall holder (also looking lovely) started talking to us in French, he quickly reverted to English and told us about his product (now I think it was olive pesto or tapenade, maybe?) We were looking at the humous coloured one but he was saying that wasn’t his best, he was having an off day when he made it! Then he started giving us bits of bread with his best effort, so we bought some… of whatever it was. It cost more that I’m willing to admit but he threw in some sun dried tomatoes so we’re all friends again.

Fig Jam Souillac

(Bubbling Fig Jam)

He also mentioned it was good with Fig jam and as Eilish’s Apple Chutney is almost gone (Eilish! We are in a dire straits here! Please get in contact so you can arrange delivery!) maybe it was time to try a French temporary solution? I asked the lovely looking Frenchman where we could get some Fig jam and he pointed us towards the stall beside his. When we had passed over our grocery budget for the week (kidding… ) we approached the next stall holder. She didn’t have any jam… but, she did have figs!

I made Fig jam! Yes I did! (*tail wagging) Mairead.

The eBook is out!

September 6, 2015September 6, 2015 | Mairead

Well it’s finally happened…The eBook is live on Amazon! You might remember I mentioned it last September on this blog post in Creative Calm. So I wrote, edited, got scared, edited some more, went into a small decline, edited some more and finally figured out how to put it up on Amazon. Then there was another round of getting scared, editing, curling up in a dark corner and editing some more. Finally, I told my little sister, Moira, that it was ready. Telling her was kinda accidental, kinda on purpose. You see, she thinks I’m great. It’s best to pick someone like that when you want help breaking out of a fear cycle.

Untitled 5

(The eBook is here!)

My little sister has always thought I was great, ever since she first recognised me pushing her pram, carrying her in my arms or letting her play with my friends. So whenever I tell her about something scary I’m about to do or that I’ve already done she says something like “Get over yourself, that’s a great idea!” (that’s an actual quote, I never said she was easy on me.) And somehow I get over myself and I come out of the small decline or the dark corner and get on with doing my thing. Anyway, I told her and she went off and bought the book and then she started telling and selling and I woke up this morning to her overnight messages (she lives in Canada) about who had been responding to her methods and I realised I had to Get Over Myself. So this is me getting over myself and telling you about my first eBook. Yes, first because there will be more and yes I may be going into a small decline about that in the future but that’ll mean I’m doing my thing and sure isn’t that the point of life?

(She hates photographs but I had to show you her Get Over Yourself! face)

So, here’s the link for you to click: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Graiguenamanagh-Mairead-Hennessy-ebook/dp/B014V4EPXS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441479315&sr=8-1

It’s called Finding Graiguenamanagh (yes I know the title should be easy to spell…. next time…) and it’s about ten days we spent in Graiguenamanagh, Co. Kilkenny, a beautifully special place in Ireland. There are pictures and words and it’s very short. When you click on the link (all going well) you’ll be brought to Amazon.co.uk where you can read the first chapter and where you can buy it… if you want. While I’d love you to buy it, I am working on not caring whether you buy it or not because that’s not my thing – writing the next one is my thing! Despite the anguish and dark places I have mostly LOVED this process and I will keep going and keep learning how to allow myself do my thing without fear.

Look Moira! I think I’m getting over myself! Mairead.

View from the Bed

September 5, 2015September 4, 2015 | Mairead

(Having a go at grape picking)

You know how when you’re buying a house you’re supposed to check out where the sun rises and sets in relation to your garden? Well, we only ever bought one house and we’ve lived in it for nearly 28 years and all those years ago we forgot to check the sun… On this trip, at each new campsite, we get an opportunity to check the sun and every time we forget. Turns out it doesn’t matter, it didn’t matter for our house and it doesn’t matter here, wherever we park Ruby we find something interesting, even if it’s not the position of the sun.

On our first morning in France we opened the blinds as we lay in bed and were greeted by huge old oak trees against a blue sky. Denis got up to collect breakfast but I couldn’t move, it was so beautiful. Ordinary, after all they’re just trees but beautiful nevertheless. Tonight we have a view of a lake and a hill beyond, we won’t be able to see it tomorrow morning from the bed unless we sit up, but I think that’ll be okay.

(The lake beside our campsite)

While I was unfolding the table earlier I spotted some interesting new arrivals setting up nearer the lake. (One of the surprise bonuses of a campsite is the never-ending opportunities to see other people organise themselves – it’s like looking over their garden wall.) The lady looked quite frail and the man was walking with the aid of two walking sticks. I could be way out but I’m guessing they are in their eighties. I realised I had seen them earlier when I was queuing at reception.

(I really, really like this idea)

The campsite owner saw that they needed to be near the toilet/shower blocks but he had no available pitch. He said, “No worries, I have an idea for tonight and I will find you the perfect pitch tomorrow!” He said this in English as the couple spoke English and then he put them in the playground! His thoughtfulness gave me a warm glow and meant I could almost forgive him the €1 a day charge for the (not very good) wi-fi – almost.

(Cute old-fashioned sign – I think it means no cars or motorbikes past this point)

Anyway, I now realise I have a view of the playground and the couple… and I am inspired. The man is setting up their connection to the electricity and the connections must not be working as he’s having to wander from one to the next, all the time moving with the aid of his walking frame. I am on the edge of my seat trying not to run down the 150 meters to his caravan to help when another camper arrives and finds a working connection. I am inspired by this couple because there are many times I am reminded that life is short, but this couple remind me that life can be short and yet be filled to the brim for every moment until the very last breath.

From my perch over the river in Limousin, Mairead.

Travel stories

all is well

Portugal: Day 1 Part 2