Irish Cuisine in France

August 31, 2015August 30, 2015 | Mairead

(As requested by Moira: Picture of Ruby on a trip to Cork last weekend)

We’ve arrived in our first campsite on the edge of the city of Rennes, a couple of hours south of Cherbourg. It’s hot here or maybe we’re just not used to anything about 19 degrees celsius yet… I think it’s 100… oh, ok it’s not, its 27. The campsite is in the middle of a huge park with walking paths, cycle paths, sports fields, swimming pool and lots and lots of trees. We’re a ten minute bus journey from the city but all I can hear is birdsong.

Before we left I had a request from Julie D. for information about travelling in a motor home (or camper van not sure which to call our home… her name is Ruby.) So from time to time I’m going to include some practical details that may or may not be of interest to you. Feel free to ask questions in the comments and I’ll answer if I can.

(Road to Rosslare)

Ruby has a small fridge with a little icebox. The fridge runs on electricity when we are connected to a power supply at the campsite or at home. It runs on the van battery when we are driving and then when we stop by the side of the road it runs on gas.

(The almost empty fridge)

I, of course, knew all that before we left but being new to the whole concept of having everything to hand didn’t fill the fridge…. Anyway, we left the ferry at about 10.30am this morning and promised ourselves a nice cup of tea as soon as we found a lay-by. Every other time we’ve been in France on the bike or in the car we’ve stopped at motorway services where you can get petrol/diesel, visit the restaurant, use the toilets, buy souvenirs, groceries and even beer. But this time we don’t need restaurants and we have a big tank so we stop less for fuel and we buy groceries at the supermarket (well… we will just as soon as we get our bearings.) And no one really needs souvenirs… There’s lots of these motorway services but there’s also lots of the other places. The places with only parking and toilets. They are called Aires and they are probably going to be our new best friends.

(Lunch)

Unfortunately, there’s not lots of them on the road from Cherbourg to Rennes, feeling a little dehydrated, we decided to stop at the first motorway services place. But it was full! Literally, there wasn’t even one car parking space. We had to leave. Sad Campers 😦 We had been so looking forward to our first cup of tea in France. On and on we drove, the temperature rising all the time. At 1pm on the dot the first Aire came into view. Happy Campers 🙂 There was room for us to park and the toilets were not too bad. (We do have a toilet in the motor home but I’ll explain another time why we use other toilets as much as we can!) That’s when I realised I hadn’t brought any lunch stuff (well, I was still thinking food = restaurants…) there was no bread, no cheese, no salad. There was some milk – possibly of dodgy quality.There were biscuits – possibly of dodgy nutritional value. Fortunately, I love breakfast and had remembered it so we had some great Irish porridge oats for our first meal in France.

Viva la Flahavans! Mairead.

On the Road Again

July 20, 2015July 20, 2015 | Mairead

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

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

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

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

(Bumble Bee at work)

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

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

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

Bye for now, Mairead.

Lost and Alone in Budapest…

May 29, 2014May 29, 2014 | Mairead

29 05d

(Beautiful Buildings)

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

29 05f

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

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

29 05c

(Street Scene)

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

29 05g

(Beautiful Parliament Building)

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

29 05b

(Look at the cute car!)

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

29 05h

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

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

From lovely Budapest, Mairead.

Head Space – there’s an app for that!

November 12, 2013November 11, 2013 | Mairead

1111a

(Sign from bridge in Mount Usher Gardens… don’t jump, leap)

I’ve started doing meditation. I’ve started many times before but this time I might keep going. So far I’ve completed twenty days. I’m doing it with an app. It’s on my phone and every morning it reminds me that it’s time to get some head space. So I sit down, tap the app and a guy talks me through fifteen minutes of calming words and paying attention to my breathing.

1111b

(They have funny signs…)

Last Friday was about noticing my emotions and then noticing my breathing. He says it’s not that I’m supposed to change anything, just notice. Funny enough when I begin noticing my breathing something changes with my emotions. Not the emotion but the power behind it, it seems to shift back to me. The week before was about noticing discomfort in my body (like pain or irritation or just an itch). When I noticed discomfort there was no need to change it just notice it. I had a slight pain in my shoulder but I figured it was enough to use for the noticing exercise. I think the idea is that we normally resist the discomfort and this makes the discomfort even more uncomfortable. But when we notice or pay attention to the discomfort it comes to the surface of our consciousness and can be released.

1111c

(and a sad sign…)

So I tried it and it was a very different sensation to “feeling” the pain in my shoulder. Noticing the pain in my shoulder doesn’t make my mind wander to Is there something wrong with my shoulder? So, no worry, just curiosity, about that discomfort thing in my shoulder. The pain in my shoulder didn’t go away but the next day when I was noticing for discomfort in my body, my shoulder had less pain than the previous day.

1111e

(and a strong sense of history and the details)

I might just keep doing this kind of meditating, Mairead.

PS The app is called Headspace, the first ten days are free and you can pay by the month or the year after that. I signed up for one month’s worth. Oh and Denis didn’t write it! And they’re not paying me (or him) I just like it and I paid for it… myself… This is getting way too long-winded.

Wounded and Sickly Ego in the Safe Cave

November 11, 2013November 10, 2013 | Mairead

1011a

(All the pictures are from Mount Usher Gardens in Ashford, Co. Wicklow)

I took a week off blogging and I have great excuses, but It’s the excuse that stops me going back to blogging that I want (well, really don’t want) to write about now. So… in general I share on this blog the stuff that’s difficult for me. Normally, the sharing makes me uncomfortable up to a value of 7-ish (that’s out of 10, 10 being death by shame – of my ego.) But this post pushes the discomfort way up to a 9 or 9.5, so I’m feeling (or my ego is feeling) very sick. Like, vomit-inducing sick, so maybe you need to stand back….

1011b

(Path with gate… open the gate)

I had a heart-to-heart conversation last week with someone who shall remain nameless and reads every post I publish. She told me I wrote some nice things but I wasn’t practicing what I preached. First blow to my ego armour. Although wounded (ego, not really) I did realise she meant this as a compliment. Unfortunately, I was too caught up in the shame I didn’t ask which particular nice thing was I not practicing. Instead, I buckled under said shame. The shame of being thought of as someone who preaches, someone who thinks they’re better than others and someone who is being dishonest. Second, third and fourth blow. At that stage I though I might be mortally wounded, so a good time to protect my shame.

1011c

(Path with steps… get ready)

Right so, I figured the best way to protect my shame was to hide. Yep, that feels good. And I have a brilliant hiding idea – I’ll stop the writing. Grand, I can do that. Well, I’d have to because it was beginning to dawn on me that there was probably more than one nice thing I was preaching about and not practicing. Since (I think) I am writing about all the things I find difficult, it’s probably accurate to say that I’m not too good at practicing them. Ok, I’ll stop the writing.

1011e

(Grassy path… soft landing)

So to summarise, I’m talking then, I’m wounded, then mortally wounded, then I go off to hide, I sit in my little cave, safe and sound and everyone lives happily ever after. Not really. There’s a leeetle problem….. sitting in my safe cave I come to realise that the writing (this now potentially dangerous – to ego – activity) is one of my precious things… the things that are really precious to me, the things I really need to share. Oops.

1011f

(Winding path with no end in sight… trust)

I can’t stop the writing… and really, I don’t want to. Instead, I’ll have to come out of my safe cave. I’ll have to find a way to realise that the wounds aren’t real and they aren’t serving me. I’ll have to go out on the ledge, again… on my own.

Just to be clear:

I am telling you how things are for me.

I am not saying I can do this.

I am not saying you should do this.

I am not promising I won’t go back to hiding.

I am saying that practicing this might be too hard for me.

I am saying I’m going to take the first step and only then consider taking another step.

And lastly, I like heart-to-heart talks (even if my ego doesn’t) so the me (when she’s not protecting her ego) thanks the someone who shall remain nameless for giving me this insight. Really, thank you.

I’m not saying I’ll like the next heart to heart though, Mairead.

Quiet – the book…

October 30, 2013October 30, 2013 | Mairead

2910c

(Solitude)

I’m reading a really interesting book at the moment. It’s called Quiet by Susan Cain. There’s also a TED talk. She writes about extroverts and introverts and thinks the extrovert personality type has an unfair advantage. The extrovert is seen as the ideal type, which can mean those of us who favour the introvert way of being can seem odd. Cain suggests the world needs introverts to be introverts. Although the words introvert and extrovert are not new to me, it is new to hear that it’s perfectly acceptable, in fact necessary (for an introvert) to be an introvert. No one told me.

2910b

(Old weather-beaten wall)

Cain explains that extroverts are energised when they’re with large groups of people – they love parties, they dislike solitude. Wait a minute… they love parties? And they refuel their energy when surrounded by lots of people. I didn’t know that was even a possibility. While introverts prefer solitude and get energised in nature or alone and they like to chat with one person at a time. Turns out the introverts often push themselves to be more extrovert so that they can fit in or get things done….. like give dinner parties or talk to a committee or whatever. But it is a very tiring activity for introverts to behave in an extroverted way and they need to refuel with space and solitude.

2910a

(Old wood)

I used to be very shy as a child and I remember when I went to college at seventeen making a decision, from that day forward I would be outgoing. It was easy, no one knew me from my previous school and I was good at pretending. So I watched outgoing people and copied them. I enjoyed it and since there were only four girls in a class of eighty I got a lot of attention! I was rewarded well for my efforts, but it was very tiring. I often used to wonder why I didn’t like parties, I thought there was something wrong with me.

2910e

(Old hearts)

It’s okay to love solitude. Mairead.

My bottle of Glue…

October 1, 2013October 1, 2013 | Mairead

0110a

(There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light get’s in – Leonard Cohen.)

I bought a bottle of glue before we left Ireland. It’s almost empty. It has been the best glue I have ever used. Not that it’s much different from any other glue I’ve used but it’s been here with me through every creative effort, every insight every page of my journals. In a way you could say it’s really stuck by me – too obvious? Even so, it has. That glue kept me focussed on the thing I wanted to be doing.

0110b

(Green, white and gold – must be time to head home)

But back in week two when it was half-full (or half-empty…) I wondered how I would get some more here in France. I hadn’t seen an art and craft supply shop in the local town or even in the bigger towns we had visited. How would I manage without glue? And not just any glue, this particular magic kind of glue.

0110c

(All that’s left of my glue)

That worrying thought spent a lot of time wandering in and out of my thinking, distracting my focus, interrupting my intention. Should I cut down on my consumption? Should I order some from the internet? Should I ask one of my friends to post me a bottle of glue? I had heard there was a craft supply shop more than two hours drive away, should I go there?

0110d

(Free wind and heat to dry the sheets)

Fortunately, I got bored with the discussion (I was having with my thinking) and completely forgot about how little glue I had left and went back to focussing on what I wanted to be doing. And the glue rewarded my efforts and is still here with me in this last week (second last day…) It won’t be enough for next week but by then I will be able to get some more.

0110e

(Enough flowers for the bees)

And that got me thinking… What if there’s always enough. Enough glue, enough time, enough money, enough energy to do what needs to be done. No more that just enough. But also no less.

Could it be true? And what difference would it make if we believed it was true? Mairead.

The Green Venice

September 30, 2013September 30, 2013 | Mairead

30 09a

(The embarcadère in Coulon)

When we picked this area in France for our September Retreat, I had noticed something on the map – the Marais Poitevin and in particular The Venise Vert (the Green Venice.) You might remember how much I loved the real Venice, so I thought I might also love this French and green version.

30 09i

(Wrong way, paddle backwards…)

The pictures showed tunnels of trees (and you know I love tunnels of trees) over narrow canals with flat-bottomed boats. But it turned out to be a bit of an elusive spot, ok, not the whole area. To be precise I had a very particular picture of what it would look like (mainly the tunnels, sigh) but each time we drove to La Rochelle and through the Marais Poitevin area we would pass canals at the edge of the road with flat green farmland on the far side. Something wrong with that picture. No trees, no tunnels, not even one flat-bottomed boat.

30 09b

(Heading for my river bank… shriek, shriek, paddle, paddle…)

And so with only a week to go (I know, I know, 4 days isn’t a week) it was now or never! I set to work on Saturday evening attempting to pin down the exact location I had seen in the pictures (oh and disaster, I couldn’t find the pictures any more…) It was not an easy job, but I did locate a town possibly very close to but not exactly the right place. It would have to do. So on Sunday afternoon we put the name in the sat nav and set off to… Coulon.

30 09c

(Sigh…)

On the way we got a bit side-tracked when we found another of the places the French people go on a Sunday afternoon – car-boot sale or an empty-your-attic sale, there were no signs and I don’t know the difference. Suffice to say there was lots of very good bargains to be had. Can you guess what I got for €1 each? More tea towels. And they’re linen. And they have sweet little loops for hanging up. Did I mention that I love fabric? (Tea towels are fabric!) Especially in bundles. The very nice French lady who was selling the tea towels had ironed and folded each one and tied a little ribbon around a bundle of six. (Yes, I did buy six more tea towels. No, I’m not going to use them for drying dishes.)

30 09h

(Sign)

Now, even if we didn’t find Green Venice, all was well in my world. But we did! We arrived in Coulon and my investigations had indicated that we needed to find the area of embarcadère (I think it means where you get on the boats.) Long story short: we parked, we had lunch, we checked out the flat-bottomed boats.

30 09f

(Sigh…)

Finally, we found the perfect boat and got in holding a paddle each. First, it’s very funny. One person rows a bit and then the other person rows a bit and both people laugh a lot. But if one person is stronger or more competitive the boat soon starts heading towards the other person’s bank of the river. Huge shrieks of laughter from me and a smidgen of panic. Instructions from Denis. Paddles in the water again, huge smiles.

30 09g

(Sigh…)

Eventually, we started to match each other’s strength and competitive force and we stopped working so hard and the river took us along. And it was so cool and, really, really peaceful. And because each of us had our hands full and our feet firmly balanced it was almost impossible to think of doing anything else, except being there. We stopped wanting to take pictures. So we took very little. Instead, we had the experience, of floating, on the water, in the canals, built by 13th century monks. Sigh…

Sigh, Sigh, Sigh… Mairead.

Travel stories

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