Water, Water, Everywhere

April 26, 2022April 25, 2022 | Mairead

I’m sitting in the van with a quilt on my knees. Outside the rain is lashing down and the forecast says it will continue until tomorrow evening. Meanwhile the sun is shining in Greystones. But we are here now and because we’ve had lots of days of heat we are starting to be grateful for a day of cool rain… that gratitude never happened at home. Maybe you have to travel far from home to appreciate what is right beside you.

The empty riverbed in Villafranca from the bank

We are in the city of Zafra. We arrived this morning from the town of Villafranca de los Torres. We knew the rain was coming and decided it might be better to be in a bigger city. Plus the park up in Villafranca has a lot of sandy areas that could get very muddy in the rain. It also has what looked like a dry river bed or maybe canal. I have searched the internet to discover what its purpose is but have had no success. When we arrived yesterday I could see a team of workers clearing some dust and leaves down there. I mimed asking if it was okay for me to be walking in the river/canal and they mimed back, yes, no problem.

I walked down into it. It’s a strange experience, not unlike my experience in the tunnel. Except the fear here is based on death by torrent of water whereas the tunnel was more like death by collapse of roof. It seems like the plot of an action movie. I am not a big action movie lover but must have accidentally seen a few collapsing building or dam exploding ones because my mind is very specific. Yesterday it showed me a huge wave of water coming around the bend in the distance. I didn’t stay long.

Loved all the towers in this Villafranca building which is a library I think

The other unusual thing in Villafranca de los Torres is the weigh bridge. It was in the car park right in front of the motorhome parking area. All day long trucks arrived and weighed their load. I was really interested in finding out our weight. So I convinced Denis to drive up. It costs just €1 to discover we were under our limit of 3,500kg. Phew! We had full water and a full tank of diesel making this the heaviest we would ever be and therefore not a problem but it got me wondering what we might be able to get rid of to lessen the load. Water is the obvious answer, we have a water tank that holds 100 litres and the same size grey water tank. I looked it up and that’s 75kg capacity for each tank. We tend to fill the water tank up to the top when we take in water just in case we run out before we locate the next water source. But if we trust that water will be available when we need it and only fill it three quarters up and if we empty the grey waste water at every opportunity… that will keep our weight down. There’s very little else we can do as we don’t have unnecessary stuff. And then it hit me, there were a few kilos we could get rid of – from ourselves.

Oh. Maybe we’ll only half fill the water tank, then?

Balancing Act

April 18, 2022April 17, 2022 | Mairead

You know when a small/annoying/disturbing/upsetting thing happens at the beginning of the day and the rest of your day is off? Like, it’s not balanced, it’s just a bit off? Ok maybe it doesn’t happen to you. It happened to me yesterday. Now just so you know, it’s wasn’t a big thing but I’m telling you about it so that I remember. I want to remember this is something my mind can do. I want to notice the off-balance that sometimes happens and just notice it. No need to do anything about it, no need to beat myself up. Nothing. Just notice that I may not be able to recognise the whole truth in this moment as I’m unbalanced. So here’s the story…

Wait, first here’s the end of the story… Our gas (LPG) gauge was in the red and that’s a problem because we need the gas for cooking and heating water and running the fridge. We have an app that tells us where the nearest gas supplier is located and we arrived to see red covers on the pump handles, indicating that they had run out of gas too. And only yesterday I had read something about gas shortages in the UK. Is there a gas shortage here in Spain too? My mind was getting ready to imagine the worst, when what should arrive but a gas tanker. No kidding! And no shortage. Ten minutes later we filled up with enough gas for two weeks. Is it possible that everything works out? Sometimes it takes ten minutes, sometimes longer? And the unbalance? It doesn’t last long either.

Ok back to the start of the story… We left beautiful Béjar the morning after my tunnel walk full of optimism and drove to the city of Plasencia, less than an hour south. There was a free car park near the centre where motorhomes were welcome. The sun shone and the temperatures were rising. We had hardly turned off the engine when a dishevelled looking guy came banging on the window. Even though we didn’t understand his words it was clear he was looking for money. Denis said no and shook his head and he left. He returned half an hour later and we realised he was going to every arriving vehicle.

Can you see the swallows? They move too fast for me but I’ve circled them above. Have the swallows arrived in Ireland yet? These ones seem to be getting ready for their journey north…

My mind asked, “is this a dangerous city?” and tipped off balance. Everything else that happened that day was slightly off. It was too hot to go for a walk, there were too many cars, too many bugs, I was hungry, no, I was thirsty, I was fed up. On and on until… We were eating a dinner of cold pie and salad (remember the gas was running out) when a knock came to the door. We both looked at each other… but it was only the owner of the camper next door who had parked so close to us that we couldn’t open the side door. As I’m the one learning Spanish… Denis indicated I should go out the other door to discover what he wanted. I began with “I don’t speak Spanish” in Spanish… turns out that’s not as useful as you might think. If you’re speaking Spanish – badly – the exact meaning is lost on the native speaker but well, you’re speaking Spanish, so they presume you probably understand it, right? I understood nothing and that resulted in the man speaking faster.

Fortunately, he had a wife who spoke face-language – she saw my face and knew I didn’t know what he was saying. Between the three of us (and Denis looking from the gap in the door) we worked out he was suggesting that if we reversed a bit our door would be parallel with the end of their van and we’d be able to open it. And he was right and it was perfect and as we stood outside smiling and saying Gracias to each other Denis and I noticed we were now surrounded by motorhomes. Literally, surrounded. (Ok no, there was a gap in front of us but there were vans at each side of us and at the back, mostly parking illegally!) And they were still arriving. Smiling, chatting, gesticulating, happy people, parking wherever they could find a gap.

And it was so odd it unbalanced me right back to balance. They do things differently here. They eat dinner late at 9.30pm or 10pm. They park in the tiniest of spots. They talk loud and fast. And it’s ok. I slept really well that night, all the windows were open and the sounds of fast talking Spanish drifted in. Yes my mind did throw up some safety issues but I took note of the location of our fire extinguisher and I was reassured. And the next morning we had landed in a new world. Everything was good. There was space again in the car park and the temperatures were more pleasant. We found a small bakery beside the city walls and watched the swallows swooping and soaring. And then as you know, just when we needed it the gas tanker arrived.

I remember as a child when we would go to the city with my Dad to some football pitch or greyhound track and if there was a big crowd there were men who used to help you park and then take care of your car. Everyone gave them a few coins but I always worried that there were so many cars they would forget which one was ours and it would be gone when we got back. It was never gone. My Dad called them the Lock Hards because they used to repeat “lock hard, lock hard” while helping you parallel park into a tight space. The Spanish motorhome drivers are experts at parking in a tight spot. Had a 50 year old memory unbalanced my mind? Was I just recycling one familiar situation and glueing it to this city with my childhood feeling of worry? I don’t know.

Noticing seems like doing nothing but it’s not and there’s nothing better to do when you’ve tipped off balance.

The Tunnel of (Self) Love

April 15, 2022April 13, 2022 | Mairead

Cobblestones beside one of the old railway buildings

Yesterday we arrived in the town of Béjar, about 200km west of Madrid. We have never been here before and that’s always exciting. We had set off early, too early for breakfast so I cooked my favourite – porridge, while Denis went for a walk. We always use other people’s reviews to choose a park-up and the reviews for Béjar were very good. One of them mentioned the greenway, called the Camino Natural Béjar that runs alongside. It used to be a railway line which makes it flat and great for walking. But like all railways lines running through the mountains it has a tunnel. One reviewer suggested that although it was long it was well worth the effort to go through it to see the old town. Oh, not sure about that.

We have been travelling for 13 days now and because we’ve started to slow down it feels like the perfect time to soak up the inspiration that comes from visiting these new, strange, unknown places. A train tunnel could be exactly the strange place I need, if… I wasn’t the most careful, risk-adverse person I know. Hmmm. Or maybe it’s just perfect? Anyways, by the time Denis came back I was actually looking forward to going through the tunnel. And he was able to report that it was grand, it was lighted and he had gone all the way through and back and was happy to go with me if I was concerned about going on my own. But I wasn’t, how hard could it be?

It was awful! You can’t see the end from the beginning, it’s very long. Oh (expletive, expletive, expletive) it was bad.

No, now that I’m writing about it I realise the tunnel was just a tunnel, it was not awful, it was just a tunnel. The thing that was awful was how I felt. I felt very awful. I am searching for better words to describe the feeling. I have a thesaurus on my computer but its not helping translate a feeling into a word. Very unpleasant isn’t bad enough but disgusting is completely wrong. I went about five steps into the tunnel and could go no further. I had to get out.

What’s funny (not funny) is I didn’t understand the problem until I was standing about three feet inside the tunnel. Beforehand, in the van I had thought I would be worried about being attacked by another human. So I had a little talk with myself, “you’d be very, very unlucky to get attacked today, first day in a tunnel, first day in Béjar, you’ll be grand, you can do this.” Of course I know what you’re thinking – this could be untrue, but it was enough to convince me I’d be grand and probably not get attacked. So that when I got to the tunnel I was not afraid of being attacked. The fear of being attacked is my mind-fear, my mind-fear had been reassured, however foolishly. No, the big problem standing inside the tunnel was no longer my mind-fear, the problem was my body-fear, the fear that took over my body. There should be a big word for that. Terror? Yes. Terror is a good word.

Generally speaking my mind-fear keeps me very safe. If my mind-fear rises I don’t reassure it enough to go towards the fearful thing… why would I? But here on this journey I make myself go towards the fearful thing because of Reverence on Deck 9. Do you remember? That’s where I made a decision to learn from everything, and that includes this tunnel. I promised to meet every difficult moment with self compassion and silence. So I turned around and left the tunnel. Were you expecting that? Do you think I should have kept going?

There’s the van from up on the town walls across the valley

And then something I had missed rushing towards the difficult thing was a signpost pointing up. And there it was, a steep but gloriously outdoor path to Béjar. I took the path most travelled. Yes, I was not a brave tunnel traveller but I was something else. I was compassionate to myself. This is what self compassion does – it accepts what is true for you now and it doesn’t attack your truth no matter how stupid or childish it seems. I’m going to the mouth of the tunnel again today (even writing that makes my stomach clench) but what’s different is Denis is coming too and I’ll take his help and maybe today is the day. And maybe it’s not…

Collage of building materials and a smiling statue

The town was scrumptious, by the way. Ok again, not the right word but I need a word that invokes consuming… but with the eyes. What is that word?

Too much coffee, too few photos

April 11, 2022April 10, 2022 | Mairead

Luxury in Bordeaux – running water and flowing electricity just outside

Did I mention we are in Spain? We left the campsite in Bordeaux on Wednesday (the campsite we found for laundry, water and wifi, terrible wifi.) and spent a long time in slow road works traffic. The journey that should have take 2.5 hours took 4 hours. We finally got to a parking spot at a supermarket near the Spanish border before lunch and Denis got to work. I fell asleep… and I blame the coffee.

I have a tricky relationship with coffee… I love it but it only loves me if the cups are small and the gaps of abstinence are long. If I have coffee once a week it rewards me with a fire of inspiring ideas and loads of energy. That, I love. But more than twice a week and my reward is tiny palpations and tiredness. Don’t love that. I had already had three cups and then I accidentally had a double espresso! I suppose it wasn’t really accidental, more it’s my terrible grasp of the French language. What I wanted was an Americano. So I asked for a large coffee but then he said cafe au lait? and I hate milk so that was a no. then I tried saying “large” again and he asked “doublo?” Which meant a double espresso (or two weeks of coffee in one cup!) and foolishly I said yes! And then, to top it all, I drank it. Maybe I can’t blame the coffee.

Canoeing along the border between France and Spain

When I woke up Denis was finished his work and we drove over the border to an overnight car park but there was a lot of police activity. The type of activity that includes road blocks and automatic rifles! There were no other motorhomes in the car park so we made a decision to eat dinner and move on.

A different tunnel on a different road at a different time… sorry 😞

One of the things we rarely do is drive at night. There was only 90 minutes left before sunset so we drove those available 90 minutes to a different car park in a different town called Vitoria-Gasteiz. It was a beautiful evening and the lighting was perfect as we drove along this mountainous route. The long tunnels and scary high bridges added to the enjoyment… not. We have a dashboard camera on the front of the van and I took loads of beautiful pictures but you’ll have to imagine them as this was before I realised the dash cam only holds 100 pictures and it was already full… with pictures from 2018. Oh well.

Stop! Look Left!

April 6, 2022April 5, 2022 | Mairead

It takes a while to transition to this different way of living. To any different way of living. We’ve all had that experience over the past two years. It’s a bit different if it’s forced on you, through ill health, pandemic, war. We choose this different way of living and we packed for it and we looked forward to it and still we were dazed and stunned by it in the first few days. Then we did something we’ve never done before… we stopped, we rearranged, we walked and talked, we drank a little coffee and then we made a tiny little plan.

Yum! The bakery opens at 6.30am every day (except Lundi!)

We had landed in France at 4pm on Friday and started driving south/west towards Portugal. We were on our way to a town called Saint-Brice-en-Cogles which is north of the city of Rennes. It’s a Village Étape. These are villages near the motorways that are nice places to stop for a break, a meal, to shop or to stay over. You can see signs for them on the motorway showing the junction nearest to them. We have always liked them as unlike a lot of French towns and villages the village étape will always have a cafe/restaurant serving food and there will be plenty of parking nearby. We found the restaurant and got a delicious chicken, mushroom and wholegrain mustard pizza to takeaway. And went to bed.

Next morning we woke to sunshine and freezing temperatures. There was ice on the windscreen. And Denis had forgotten to bring his coat. I had brought so many books they were spilling out on the floor every time we rounded a corner. The water tank had leaked all our water overnight due to a safety “feature” (does frozen water in the pipes really need to be avoided? Yes, seemingly.) Our carbon monoxide alarm had disappeared. We also needed to buy supplies for dinner. Plus the quality of our internet connection, so far, was intermittent which was a worry as Denis need to connect with work. It was a lot for a first day.

When we started travelling one of the things that worried me most was crossing the road. How could that worry me, I learned to cross the road as a child, I’m good at it, I know how to do it right. Right? No, not in France. It’s all to do with thinking I’m right. Crossing the road is a skill we learned as children. Just look both ways and cross when the road is clear or when there’s enough distance between you and the car to walk to safety. Right?

Wait! There’s a small important first step that we miss if we’re crossing the road in France and every other country where they drive on the right. Look Left! The cars will be coming from the left. Sure, I know this is simple. Sure, I know that you will look left…eventually. But, we believe the cars and trucks nearest to us will be coming from the right so we automatically begin walking BEFORE we get around to looking left (and spotted the car zooming towards us.) Trust me this is a worry! And it’s nothing to do with crossing the road.

I know it’s not the biggest worry, it’s small but it always reminds me that I am missing lots of other things when I think I’m right. When I believe what I learned a long time ago (or even just last week) is still true. Things change fast but we can cope if we stop and just notice… and then move on.

Our tiny plan was to search on google maps for a Decathlon – for Denis’ coat, a supermarket – for dinner, a petrol station – for diesel, a hardware shop – for the carbon monoxide alarm, a campsite – for water, laundry and a place to empty the toilet and wifi. Doing all these things is easy when you know where they are and how to get there. But what is true right now is that everything takes longer and some supermarkets have barriers that we can’t fit under and some automatic petrol stations won’t accept our credit cards and some campsites have terrible wifi.

When we just notice what is true now and work with that, rather than assuming we are doing something wrong, most things become less stressful.

Reverence on Deck 9

April 4, 2022April 3, 2022 | Mairead

I am sitting on the bed in our cabin on deck 9, the sea is incredible calm. There are no windows but from the slight movements, rattles and shakes in here I sense the calm sea. It was definitely calm when we were eating breakfast. Every time we travel on the ferry we remind ourselves that there’s no need to eat breakfast and then each time we see the beautiful photography for the breakfast we forget. The actual food does not look like the pictures and it does not taste the way the pictures make me think it will taste. I have been wondering about this for years. I think I’ve eaten my last breakfast on the ferry… maybe.

We really want that breakfast to be pretty special and very tasty. And those photographs can’t be lying, can they? That’s how the food looked that day. The day long ago when the picture was taken. But today, here and now, the food is not that food. Today’s food is canteen food. The best you could say for it is – it’s not great. Those photos were taken when there was more time to make it look pretty, to add berries, to place the rasher in the most symmetrical spot.

As exciting as you think it will be when I tell you where we are going and how long we will be away, it is often ordinary and boring and difficult and stressful. In fact, it’s just like home – different setting, same reactions, same me, same him. “Wherever you go, there you are” is the title of a book by Jon Kabat-Zinn. I bring the same way of thinking, the same instincts, the same inner demons, the same pain, everywhere I go.

The exciting thing is that at some point I realised this journey deserved reverence and I made a decision to learn from everything. To meet every boring moment with a “well hello, boring!” To meet every stress by noticing the discomfort within my body and allowing it relax. To meet every ordinary with a gold digger’s eye and spot the treasure within. To meet every difficult moment with self compassion and silence. The odd time I succeed.

Doesn’t our life’s journey deserve reverence?

Habit Practicing

April 2, 2022April 1, 2022 | Mairead

Every time we go away I promise myself I will pack the van early. I never did. Until now. I’ve been packing warm weather clothes. And towels. And cups and plates. I have a lot of categories half packed. I hope that will be enough for now.

And of course it is enough for now. Now is fully complete as it is. Next week or next month isn’t complete yet… but when it becomes now – one moment at a time it will be complete too. And it will be done because we will have moved onto the next moment.

It feels like I will never be able to get back into blogging because I have left it so long and why am bothering anyhow? Because I realised something useful this month – writing my mind (thoughts) onto the page changes everything for me. It is like a rumba (I think that’s the name of the robot vacuum cleaner?) cleaning without effort.

Although there is some effort required. I do have to sit at the page and stay there until I am done. I also have to be non-judgmental about what comes out onto the page. At least until it’s out there. After I’ve got it out I can edit it until it’s time to post. And then I have to post. It’s a process I had been following for a few years. And it works. But I stop. And then it’s hard to get back.

I would really like to prevent myself from stopping. I would really like to keep going, keep cleaning out my mind. But first I have to start. It’s like any habit, it takes practice. And I’m going to practice. Is there a habit you’d like to practice? Let me know and we can be cheerleaders for each other!

I’m not a complete idiot…probably

August 10, 2021August 9, 2021 | Mairead

Saw this in Portumna, Co. Galway. For some reason it makes me think of social media…

Well I’ve never been more grateful that I write a blog… well I haven’t actually written a blog post since March but I’m still grateful I wrote a post in March. Let me explain… it’s been 5 months since I wrote to you and a lot has happened.

The website (https://permission.cards) has changed utterly. The cards are different. And I think it’s possible I’m different too…for one thing I’m making videos. Yes, I don’t know what inner voices I shut down to do that but I shut them down. And now I’m talking to camera like it’s ok, like I’m not a complete idiot, like I’m even comfortable exposing myself (fully clothed at all times.) And I am comfortable. Mainly.

I’m comfortable until I wake up with a thought in my head that I’m a fraud or too old or ugly or a failure. Those days are hard because it’s kinda natural to want to hide away on Bad Thoughts Days. And sometimes I do hide. Do you have this experience where you start the day with those thoughts and you go into social media and every post you see confirms your thoughts? I have. So on the really bad bad thoughts days I can’t go into social media and I can’t post anything. And posting on social media is kinda my whole marketing strategy (that’s a blog all to itself!)

Muddy track near Shannonbridge Co. Offaly

Funnily enough though, this routine of posting to social media makes me notice those bad thought days in a way I never noticed before. In the midst of a Bad Thoughts Day I think every day is a Bad Thoughts Day. I completely forget that yesterday wasn’t. I think “this is going to go on forever” and sometimes I believe that thought longer than I need to.

Having to post everyday makes me realise Bad Thoughs Days are not everyday. My posts show me that I must have been grand on lots of days because I have lots of posts.

And why am I’m grateful I write blog posts (even inconsistently..)? Because when you’re in the middle of change you don’t notice it and you don’t think anything is happening. And maybe it’s time to start having Good Thoughts Days… what do you think? Wishing you good thoughts about yourself ❤️ Mairéad.

Project Blackbird Snack Bar

June 2, 2020 | Mairead

I love projects, I have about sixteen on the go at the moment. Yes they are exhausting and yes it is a little sad when I consider that I will never finish them but they were so exciting in the beginning. There was the great project for an art piece for my sister’s kitchen, his and her wedding masks, the garden and all its many projects, the website design project, the fiction book, the eat healthy project, the get up early project, the walk to the beach every day project, the make a stick trellis for the raspberries project… until yesterday I thought it was just me. I’ve been reading (listening to) the book Happy by Derren Brown. The subtitle is, Why more or less everything is absolutely fine. Very uplifting. Derrren is the illusionist, magician guy from the telly and he’s very interesting. Anyways, it’s a long book and I’ve been reading (listening to) it on and off for months and yesterday he had started talking about death… yes, I know, interesting. He was saying, among other things, that humans love projects. All humans. So it’s completely natural that I love projects. Funny thought, lately, I have been falling out of love with my projects.

I get very excited when I think of a new project, I fall in love with it and fantasise about us walking together along a sandy beach into the sunset. It’s all very romantic. But just at the moment when the project becomes real, the love disappears, the sand becomes stony and there’s a thunderstorm. This is at the precise point where I have to jump into the unknown. Maybe I have to learn something new or share something stupid or risk looking ridiculous or I just don’t know what to do next. By that point I have committed and have to stay with the new project until death do us part. Very often I can’t wait for death to do us part. Now I think the problem is I commit to the project before having a good look at what exactly is involved. I will be more careful in future.

Like our blackbirds. I say OUR, they are in fact wild blackbirds but they do seem to be getting friendly. So, back when Eilish was still here, she and I researched home composting. Before I go any further let me be clear – the research was not in a scientific way… we searched on Youtube for a video about home composting. It was very interesting… and confusing. So in order to get started we stopped watching and summarised what we remembered (not a lot) from the fifteen videos we’d already watched and began home composting. This is a perfect example of a project.

We already had a compost bin but it was stuffed to the top with rose bush pruning that was not turning into compost. First step, empty the bin. Then start adding vegetable peelings, paper towels, grass clippings and leaves. Keep the bin uncovered. This did mess with the structural integrity of the bin but I found a bungie chord to sort that. Finally, add water regularly. Only a week had passed when Eilish spotted the first member of our blackbird family popping in for a nibble. Yes, popping into the compost bin to root around in our leftovers! Well, we thought it might be the leftovers but there were bugs in there too so maybe that’s what they were after.

Project Blackbird Snack Bar

Last Friday I was sitting in the garden sending a text to my mother, telling her about the blackbirds when one jumped up on the compost bin. Since I had my phone in my hand I turned on the video and watched him getting started on his own project. He stood on the edge of the bin for a long time looking in, looking around, looking back in again. He walked around the edge of the bin and nearly toppled a few times but fortunately he had wings to help him balance. He washed himself, got interested in other birds and possibly me filming him. Then after a very, very long time, four minutes and ten seconds to be precise… he jumped in. He’s right to be careful, there are a lot of dangers around but the compost probably smells irresistibly good.

From now on I’m not going to fall in love with the next irresistibly lovely smelling idea, I’m going to take my time looking into it and walking around it. I’ll tell myself I have plenty of projects, finish one of them first or better yet, finish them all.

Also, wouldn’t it be amazing to have a camera permanently mounted over the compost bin? We could watch the blackbirds when they are inside the bin and we could set up a live feed to a website and… NOoooooo! Danger danger, that’s a project luring me in, stay back! Have to go now, I think there’s a an old camera in the attic.

May you be well, Mairead.

Travel stories

all is well

Water, Water, Everywhere

Balancing Act

The Tunnel of (Self) Love

Too much coffee, too few photos

Stop! Look Left!

Reverence on Deck 9

Habit Practicing

Project Blackbird Snack Bar