being present

The Green Venice

| 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.

The Tunnel I love

| Mairead

2509b

(Leaves and seed. I pick something up every time I go walking)

I went on my walk this morning (of course I did!) a bit earlier than usual because it’s not so pleasant to walk in the heat. Anyway, there’s a stretch of the road which I call the tunnel (or tunnel as I like to say in French) and I absolutely love it. It’s dark and incredibly quiet in there. You can just about make out the light from the sky in the distance. This morning I had to stop and get a good feel of its magic.

2509d

(Duck. From the riverside in Vouvant)

I never bring the camera out on my walk, much too much distraction, but two nights ago I had my phone and I took a picture. It might not be very clear but I wanted to give you a visual sense of my tunnel.

2509c

(My tunnel, sigh)

So… I’m standing in my tunnel this morning and the phrase the darkest hour is just before the dawn comes to mind. And it got me thinking… my tunnel is such a comforting place to be, I wonder how it would work if the next time I’m feeling down, I imagine myself in my tunnel. A place to be held safely in the dark until it’s time to venture out into the sun. I’m definitely going to try it. (By the way, in case I forget and you notice I’m needing my tunnel, could you remind me please?)

2509a

(Love this quote from Maya Angelou, it’s now in one of the journals I’ve been creating here)

With only a week left (I think I’ll keep saying that every day from now on….) I’ve been thinking of all the things I want to do before we leave and on the very top of the list is… getting a video of the hens running to me (their surrogate mother…) So far we have a startled looking hen standing very still so hopefully they’re not camera-shy. If we do manage to capture momentum I’ll find a way to share it with you.

2509e

(Very cute sign in Vouvant)

From the sunny swing, Mairead.

Being Grateful

| Mairead

2409b

(St. John’s Gate – Parthenay)

I’m sitting on the swing as I write, in a little bit of shade, it’s way too hot out there under the bright light for my pale complexion. The really surprising thing about a hot day here is how cool it is inside in the cottage. It’s almost like there’s air conditioning in there. I think it must be the thickness of the walls. Caves are like that too, so it makes them a constant temperature year round, cooler than the summer heat and warmer than the cold winter.

2409c

(Half-timber house – Parthenay)

I realised a moment ago that we will be starting our journey home in just over a week. It was starting to feel like we could stay here forever! So it makes me think about some of the things I am grateful for here… The warmth – it’s been very hot this week and I love how sparkly everything is in the sun, including the spider’s webs (some photos of those would be nice). The garden – it’s lovely to be among green growing things. The peace – it’s so quiet, not silent, there’s buzzing and I can hear some neighbours chatting. I think I hear a farm machine in the distance and every now and then a bird singing. The trestle table – it has been (and will continue to be for the next week, I hope) fantastic to be able to work outside at this big wooden table made by human hands and planks of wood.

2409d

(Very cute house – Parthenay)

The distance from a retail hub – well, this was a big surprise to me, that I could be grateful not to be near a village, town or city. How would I spend my days? How would I fill the time? Where would I get some chocolate or croissants? Where would we eat? For as long as I can remember I have lived in a town (or a city) and always very close to (either next door to or a few hundred yards/meters away from) a shop. In Cashel where I grew up as a child besides the shops there were so many amazing places to visit (really, they did seem amazing!) There was the Rock of Cashel where stone staircases led to turrets that let up to the battlements, hundreds of feet up in the air and unprotected… Any parent’s nightmare – fortunately our parents never knew we were up there! And Hoare Abbey, an old ruined monastery, protected by huge cows (I was/am afraid of cows, so I only ventured in when they were eating the grass round the back). The town of Parthenay reminded me a lot of Cashel.

2409g

(Steep, unprotected steps, at the castle – Parthenay)

So I have come to understand that having no shops and castles and monasteries next door to wander around has actually been an advantage to me. Instead, I can wander around glue and paint, paper and canvas, scissors and fabric.

2409e

(See the seashell? Symbol of Camino – Parthenay)

I am also grateful that the only cows around here are firmly behind fences, Mairead.

I have a very little fridge and I’m not going to fill it up with rain

| Mairead

1809c

(Some perfect scraps of paper)

It seems to have rained all night so the ground was very wet this morning…. but it’s sunny now so I’m sitting outside on the swing. Since we got here I’ve been making craft stuff everyday (except at the weekend) and the weather has been nice enough to work outside. Until this week. It was hard to come back inside when I’d got used to working in the air. Even when the sun wasn’t shining it felt good to be outside. Now there were downsides. For example every piece of paper had to be weighted down so that it didn’t blow away. It’s painful fishing for those perfect scraps of paper in the rose bushes. But working inside the glue smells and the spots of paint I’ve been dropping may never come out of the rug… 

1809a

(Bits and pieces)

So, instead of reminding myself it will be a lot colder and wetter when we get back home and how’s that going to suck… I starting thinking….. all this talking and thinking about cold weather or wet weather or bad weather gets me no closer to the thing I want to be doing. It’s just a distraction. 

1809b

(Mara came back today and she made up a vegetable basket – all from the garden. And later there’s promise of chocolate zucchini cake – no idea…)

Like when I go into the supermarket here. I bring a list, it’s a very small list because we have a very small fridge (note to self: bigger fridge is not always better fridge, you tend to fill the fridge and the only advantage is that there’s more room for things to go off…) But on the way to getting the things on the list I see lots of attractive other things. Like cute knives and forks, you can never have enough knives and forks and they have a gingham pattern. Or cake… well who doesn’t want more cake? Or those funny orange sticks in the fish section – what are they? Anyway, by the time I find the things on the list the basket is full and I’m ready for a nap. 

1809f

(Who could pass these?)

How is that like this? Maybe not a lot but it reminds me… when I’m in the supermarket I forget why I’m there – to fill the little list. When the rain falls I forget why I’m here (in France, but maybe also in general) – to fill my other little list. My other little list has joy and love and fun and crafts and glue and paint and scissors and fabric and pins and thread and wool and other people’s hens and…..

If I fill my other little fridge with rain and cold and problems and worry it’ll be hard to get anything else in, Mairead.

Rain or Shine, some more hen pictures

| Mairead

1509e

(We went for a ramble around the lake at Mervant this morning)

It’s Sunday afternoon, I’ve just brought the hens their afternoon treat – porridge. They love it! Being from France they possibly haven’t tasted it  (you can only buy it here in the English section at the supermarket) but they get very excited when they realise that’s what I’ve brought. Their excitement is followed by very noisy pecking in the feeding dish. This weekend they’ve had a lot of excitement food-wise.

1509a

(Some swallows gathering on the wire outside our house)

It rained heavily all day yesterday (Saturday) which was fine as I had planned a day of answering long unanswered emails, so I sat most of the day on the sofa in front of the windows to the garden. After a while I kinda forgot where I was. You miss a lot of reality when you’re on the computer. So it was lunchtime before I realised the hens were probably drenched, I went to investigate. I had let them out of the house earlier in the morning when the rain was only starting and was surprised that they seemed very eager to be outside.

1509b

(Can you see the rain?)

Now when I reached their enclosure I couldn’t believe the state of them. They were indeed drenched, they looked like they’d been for a swim, feathers plastered against their heads, beaks to the ground. I remember the bird ‘flu crisis we had in Ireland a few years ago, so I knew birds could get the ‘flu, is this how it started?

1509c

(The poor chicken… notice the muddy beak?)

I went straight back to the house (the one we’re in not the hens) and had Denis check if his brother Liam (he and Kate live with the hens I was hen-sitting last summer) was online to get advice. He wasn’t. So instead we searched for a hen forum (where hen owners gather on the internet to chat… really…)

1509d

(Soaking)

We found one in America. There was lots of chat about hens in the rain but the main message –  they’re fine. They love the rain. Why? Because it provides the other thing they love – worms. It has been a very dry summer here in the Vendee and so the ground is very hard, making it difficult for worms to get to the surface or hens to get through to them. Not yesterday. Soft earth. Lots of worm potential. Happy hens.

So how do birds get the ‘flu? Mairead.

This is it!

| Mairead

We’re sitting in a Starbucks very near Stansted airport, availing of their wi-fi, their porridge (I’ve missed porridge…) and their coffee for Denis and their tea for me. We got off the Hook of Holland to Harwich ferry at 6.30am this morning and we are now on our way across England and Wales to the ferry home at Holyhead.

05 07a

(Welcome to the Netherlands)

I forget what happened yesterday…. there was driving, stopping, food, weather, with high of 24 and no rain. Then at the end of the day we had a little time before we needed to get to the ferry and we went to have a look at Delft. Vermeer (he of the Girl with the Pearl Earring (the painting not the book)) lived here and painted some street scenes of the town, so I wanted a look.

05 07c

(Pretty Delft)

Well, it is beautiful, a little Venice. Not great for getting around on a bike, unless it’s a pushbike, but beautiful nonetheless. So we looked for a parking spot and only found little ones a bit close to the canal for comfort. Instead I jumped off and took a few pictures. It’s definitely worth another visit.

05 07f

(Those little spaces between the trees were for parking….)

So that’s it, all over bar the final few kilometres. It’s been an experience and it’s been great sharing it with you. Thank you for your encouraging texts, mails and comments. Consider sharing your own trip, I can definitely recommend the recording of experience. It helps me see the big picture, the one that shows me…. this is it. This is the life I’m living. Is it the one I want? And if it’s not what is it I do want?

05 07b

(Just a note about our petrol prices in Ireland… could be worse! This is Germany, it was worse in Italy)

It’s been a blast and now I’m ready for my bed, just another 15 hours to go zzzzZZZZ….. Mairead.

We arrived here in Austria.

| Mairead

We’re staying in a little town in the Austrian mountains called Gries Im Sellrain. And true to its name there was rain. With my new-found appreciation for rain, you can imagine I was very happy.

03 07d

(Near Florence, notice how flat the land is)

So… we left Florence yesterday morning at 8.45am and we arrived here at about 5pm and it’ wasn’t such a bad day. We did have a high of 30 degrees but we had a low of 17 degrees also. It was a bit of a shock to the system when I realised I might be cold. Hadn’t felt that for a while. The reality was that it wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold and it wasn’t too tiring. And… it seems my body has got used to travelling for long periods in one position and it wasn’t complaining.

03 07e

(Now you can see some hills in the distance)

I saved myself a lot of worrying and imagining scary things for nothing. Instead I spent my time noticing what was exactly in front of me and appreciating the stuff I liked. Scenery and nature were in front of me. Although Florence is very beautiful, we didn’t see a lot of nature. Not that there weren’t gardens, there were, but we didn’t go to them. We spent time in the streets and the museums and art galleries. So even though we were on a six lane highway now, there was plenty of nature all around us. And it was changing all the time.

03 07f

(The hills and mountains are getting closer)

We stopped every hour (ish) at motorway services and we have it down to a fine art by now. First one, breakfast. Second one fruit and water. Third one, lunch. Fourth one, ice cream or coffee and pastry.Last one shower! That makes five hours of driving and three hours of stops.

03 07g

(And closer)

Yesterday I promised to write a gratitude list and that has made me realise that I appreciate being able to go on this journey. To be able to take the time to do something so different. To have the health, the means and the will. To be able to visit places I have only read about or seen in documentaries. We live in privileged times and we don’t know it.

03 07a

(And finally we arrive in Austria)

While on this road I have been remembering my Dad tell us stories as children about his trip with friends to Rome. The story goes that they drove all the way from Baltinglass in Co. Wicklow, Ireland to Roma, Italy, more than fifty years ago. Before air conditioning, before motorways, before wi-fi! I would love to ask him about it now, but it’s too late, I didn’t know when it was possible to ask that I would want to know. And I would love to see photos of his journey but I don’t know if any exist.

03 07b

(In a little town with a funny church steeple)

So here’s my gratitude list….. Nature, the landscape of northern Italy and Austria from flat lands to huge craggy mountains. Motorway services – really! The journey. Rain… And finally I am grateful that I have the opportunity to write, to take photos and to make you all listen!!!

03 07c

(This is just one of that many signs to tell us… we are welcome :))

 Until Germany, Mairead.

How often do Ryanair fly out of Pisa? Anyone?

| Mairead

We’re leaving Florence today, well, tomorrow as I write and we’re leaving very early (read 9am…) so I anticipate having too little time then (now, to you) to write so I’m writing now…. which is in the past… which means I may have developed a time machine… it is now as you read and as I write?… Oh better yet, I’ve found a way to explain The Power of Now…. maybe later.

02 07a

(Window in Venice)

Although the Florence bit is nearly over there’s still the journey home…. Four days of wonderful riding through Italy, Austria, Germany, Holland, England and Wales… Emmm… Thing is, the trip down kinda put me off the trip home and I’m busy looking at a train to Pisa and a Ryanair to Dublin. But don’t tell Denis. He’ll be motoring along without a care until the first stop before he realises I’m not on the back. He’ll open his mail and this blog will be there, maybe I should write something nice for him, so he’ll understand…

02 07d

(Windows in Siena)

Never mind, I’m not really going to Pisa, I’m going overland and I’m going to make the journey as easy for myself as possible! First, I’m going to start by following my own advice… well, I was only sharing it because I wasn’t using it myself. So, I’ll notice what’s happening now on the journey.  Instead of imagining and getting fearful about what might happen or about how it might be as hot/tiring/sore as the last time I’ll notice how exactly it is right now. Also, I’ll appreciate stuff that happens and I’ll share with you what I’m grateful for each day…

02 07f

(Window in Duomo, Florence)

You might notice that “easy” for me doesn’t really include any physical issues…. (well, we will be stopping very regularly, in fact by the time we get home we’ll have stopped at approximately 25 motorway services/roadside cafes  over the four days, so that’s a given!) No, all my issues are mental – interesting, right? Mmm…

02 07h

(Window in Pitti Palace, Florence)

We’ll be in Austria next time I write to you, and I’ll let you know how I am then, but of course it’ll be now… again, Mairead.

Wide awake is a strange place.

| Mairead

It’s five past much too early as I write, on a Saturday morning in a studio flat near the Via Sienese on the edge of Florence. It is hard for me to believe that last statement, the bit about being in Florence. I feel no different than usual. I feel no huge Italian influence. At this early hour I don’t feel the heat. I see familiar things around me. I am drinking water. So why did I travel for days on the back of a motorbike to be here if I feel just the same as being at home?

29 06a

(Ponte Vecchio, the only bridge in Florence not bombed during World War II)

But of course it’s not the same. If I open the door onto the garden I can see the soil is dry and cracking from the constant heat and lack of rain. If I pick up one of our host’s books I can see they are written in Italian, even if the cover is familiar, the contents are completely indecipherable. If I open the fridge there are strange foods in there, in the cupboard also. And especially under the sink, the things in there may contain warning labels but how would I know? Even the tap in the kitchen sink has an extra colour… red for hot, blue for cold and white for…

29 06e

(The huge Duomo)

And even though at this particular moment sitting on an (almost) normal chair, typing on my own laptop and drinking ordinary water (from the white section of the tap…) I don’t feel different…. But for every moment that I am here in a country I did not grow up in, I am awakened by differences all around me. And being awakened is probably a good thing.

29 06c

(Jugs for sale)

Most of my life I spend asleep…. and I’m not talking about the time I’m asleep in bed. For example, I go to the shop, I  walk to the third aisle, I pick up some toilet paper, I scan for the shortest checkout, I pull out some cash from my purse, I hand it over, I smile/don’t smile, I say something pleasant/unpleasant about the weather/government/price of cabbage, I walk out, I notice very little…. unless they moved the toilet rolls.

29 06d

(A braille map of Florence)

Here in Italy I stop every time on the threshold of a shop and wake up. I think “is it still day or is it evening?” and search in my memory for the words “Buongiorno” (good day) or “Buonasera” (good evening), because here in this unfamiliar place everyone greets each other when they walk into a shop. I stop in front of the shelves full of unfamiliar packages and search for clues as to what might be inside. If I’m lucky and know what I want, I search for a match between my want and each package in front of me. I am awake because they have moved and repackaged everything….

29 06f

(Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo)

As I walk along the street I am noticing shop windows, footpath edges, scooter sounds, bicycle sounds, pedestrian sounds, I see crossing stripes. I look right then left and then with a jolt I remember I must look left first. Wake up! The traffic closest to me will come from the left…. unless this is a one way street… I’m awake now.

29 06g

(The reason Piazzale Michelangelo got its name – a copy of Michelangelo’s David)

And while I’m awake I notice what’s going on right here and I can bring a little bit back home with me for when the rain falls and I am asleep again, Mairead.