Shuush! We’ve found a McDonalds! 1 of 2

February 1, 2016February 1, 2016 | Mairead

(Beja is on a hill)

Don’t tell anyone but… we’ve come to McDonald’s this morning! Yes I know, how could we? Well… there’s a certain thing that McDonalds do and Starbucks do too that we haven’t found elsewhere here. I promise we will start looking for a Portuguese version soon though, because I am embarrassed to be resorting to something familiar and comforting.

(Stone stairs in the Convent of Nossa Senhora de Conceição)

The things that McDonald’s and Starbucks do? Well there’s the free wifi (actually I don’t know if Starbucks do.) Then there’s the comfy seats – we’re getting fussy about seating as we get older… Then there’s the stay-as-long-as-you-like attitude. If you haven’t darkened the door of a McDonalds for a while you might not be familiar with their less plastic look. It’s more brown and cream now (well it is here) with a modern pretend-wood-kitchen feel. Perfectly fine for an hour or two, plus the staff seem fine with us staying an hour or two with just a couple of coffees (@€1 each!)

(An old street in Beja)

From time to time we both like a change from Ruby when we’re working. I would prefer a shaded spot outdoors with a nice view but it’s a bit too cold to sit outside for long so this is a good second choice. It’s shaded, the sun is shining outside and I can see some green bushes in the play area and of course a big sky full of blue – nice. I’m working on my next ebook! This one will be about Creative Calm and how I think using creativity can nourish our lives. Funny thing is that although I brought lots of creative things with me (embroidery, crochet, paints, pens, glue and scissors) I didn’t even unpack them until I started listening to what I was writing!

(Decorative doorway in the chapel at the convent)

As always, everything I write is for me but sometimes I don’t pay attention to what I write, that’s why I started writing to you. Somehow sharing it makes me pay more attention. I think that’s probably why I started the Monday morning Creative Calm sessions. Sharing the making part made me pay attention and realise that thinking about being creative is not enough, the doing of it makes the difference.

So if I realise the doing of it makes the difference how come here in Portugal I’m not doing it?

To be continued… Mairead.

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.

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.

When the Rains Came Back…

October 6, 2015October 5, 2015 | Mairead

(A kite surfer on his way home on Saturday evening. By the way that red sky at night didn’t bring a shepherd’s delight…)

It’s been raining continuously here since early Sunday morning and the two of us are getting plenty of practice at being together in a confined space… We’ve had rain before on this trip but we knew we could move along if it persisted and although sometimes we waited a couple of days to be sure it was persisting we knew we could get away from it if we really wanted to. We can’t get away anymore. The forecast is rain for the next two days, then on the third day we will be going home.

(Could be a sea urchin?)

We’ve had rain before at home too, but sitting here, I can’t remember what I did on a rainy Sunday… What did I do? Probably watched television. We don’t have a television. We do have internet and we could watch YouTube videos, but it’s very slow. Fortunately, I brought a crate-full of crafty things so I have plenty to do. I spent most of yesterday doodling.

(Can you see his eyes?)

It’s not cold but when we go visiting the photogenic toilets (thank you Thierry for the translation: Vos chiotes sont tres photogeniques!) we get a little damp and then it’s lovely to turn on the heating! Yes we have heating! The gas that powers the hob, the oven and the fridge also blows warm air through our little home when necessary. Because it’s a small space it doesn’t take much to heat it, in fact when Denis cooks the dinner (yes, he’s still cooking) it’s also toasty in here.

(Lots of shells on the beach plus a little bit of seaweed)

Anyway, the rain stopped at about midday and I rambled out to the beach to take some more pictures… but the smell. As I may have said before I grew up in Cashel, Co. Tipperary. One of county Tipperary’s claims to fame is that it’s Ireland’s largest inland county. Which is a great honour… but it means that there’s no sea. As a child a trip to the seaside involved days of travelling. Well, it seemed like days… but it was probably only a couple of hours. About a mile away from our destination, my Dad driving, my Mam in the front, my brother and me in the back (our sister not yet born) the windows were rolled down and we caught our first smell of… seaweed. Even today the smell of seaweed makes me happy! Ah seaweed.

(Look! Not a butterfly but a mussel pretending to be a butterfly. Saw this and thought of you, Cathy!)

I read somewhere that we are wired for pleasure, simple pleasure. Pleasure receptors are located very close to where we receive information from our senses. From the smells or tastes or touch or sights or sounds around us we have the ability to derive pleasure. From the dictionery pleasure is a feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment. How incredibly simple and free and even freeing.

Don’t wait, be happy now, Mairead.

Here’s all the news….

October 3, 2015October 4, 2015 | Mairead

(An old pathway leading to the château beside the campsite near Bordeaux)

Well it’s been too long….. I’m starting to get phone calls and texts asking where we are and when are we coming home so it time for a check-in. Last time we chatted (well I chatted, you guys have been very quiet!) we were just outside Carcassonne. Then we moved to Bordeaux, which I loved, lots of vineyards and a beautiful campsite beside a château with loads of birds and loads of birdsong. We also visited a wine cooperative there (hello Dave, we have your wine!) Well… don’t tell Dave but I think it might have just been a one man small business vineyard. He was a lovely man though and his wine was lovely too. The entire transaction was conducted in French. And not just, “I’ll have some of your wine for Dave“, “here you are, hope he likes it” No, we were in his house, shaking hands, patting the dogs, tasting two reds, two whites and a rosé, hearing about their merits, calculating costs, visiting the storeroom and shaking hands goodbye. And he had great hands, working hands. We were delighted with ourselves and with Dave for sending us on a quest…. to a wine cooperative… Mum’s the word, though.

(A very old church in Surgeres)

Then we went to Surgeres which is near La Rochelle. We saw the Blood Red Moon there and coincidentally we heard and felt some Blood-sucking mosquitos. I always react badly to bites so I was feeling a little poorly (Hello Helen! you taught me that word and it exactly describes how I was!) and bad-tempered and grumpy and not a happy blogger… sad face 😦 I’m all better now though!

(Place Royale in Nantes and possibly St. Nicholas church in background)

Then we went to Nantes, a lovely city with a great, easy-to-use tram system. The campsite was very well landscaped and the trees through the bedroom window were absolutely perfect. I used to lie down and look at them when the itching got too bad and they were very soothing. Even more soothing was the French anti-histamine.

(There’s a bunch of people kite surfing on the beach in front of our campsite. I just took this picture of one guy setting up. Once the kite is up he then has to walk all the way out to the water with his surfboard under his arm. Although it’s not clear from this picture the tide is out about 1km from the shore)

So, you’re all up to date, today we’re in a place called Asserac in Pays de la Loire. It’s north of Saint Nazaire and on the coast. In fact our campsite is right on the beach. And the weather isn’t too bad… 16ºC bright with the odd burst of sunshine. We thought the Nantes campsite had the best toilets of our trip (yes we’re back to toilets…) but this site in Asserac beats all the rest. Maybe I’ll get some pictures later…. what’s the French for “your toilets are very photogenic”? In case I don’t, think very nice hotel lobby and then add some toilets and some trees! And automatic sliding doors (not the toilet doors.) And self-flushing toilets! There’s even brightly coloured hand-washing sinks for children, in three different heights! Don’t get me started on the dish washing sinks… you know those professional hose things that people washing dishes in a restaurant kitchen use (you might have seen them on the telly?) well they’re here! And they have plugs for the sinks! I used to think a plug for the sink was no big deal… It is a big deal.

(Hello Laura! The beach here is beautiful and reminds me of your beach at Ballytrent!)

So that’s it, we’re on our way home from here. The big ship will be leaving Cherbourg on Wednesday evening and arriving in Rosslare on Thursday afternoon and we’ll be on it.

See you soon, Ireland! Mairead.

Gratitude… for some simple things

September 23, 2015September 22, 2015 | Mairead

(No life threatening stunts were necessary for this photo)

We’ve moved a few miles further from Carcassonne. In the countryside but near a small town with all the necessities – bakery and grocery shop. There’s also a butchers but we haven’t had to resort to meat yet… yet. Lucky, there’s also a cemetery right next door so very quiet at night. We’re staying here for a few days so Denis can catch up with work.

(Wash Day)

Funny thing happened to me when I realised we would be making a base for a while – I started looking forward to housework! Granted there’s not a lot of housework here but still it was a surprise to me. So I did some clothes washing and because it was such a warm day yesterday everything was dry very fast. Although we did seen to be letting the neighbourhood down with all our string lines.

(Wash Day continues)

It seems we have sorted out our initial problems with fridge stocking too because now we eat all the time in the camper. When we travelled on the motorbike (or in the car) we usually stopped on route for a break and then of course we had a coffee and probably something to eat. Now when we stop we have something from our supplies, much like we do at home. It saves a lot of money and in the long run will allow us to go for longer each time we travel. We do love French coffee so we have that out but we think of it as a treat and we appreciate it much more because it’s rare. Denis has been doing most of the cooking. (I would say ALL of the cooking but I did cook two of the nights!) He seems to enjoy cooking. I definitely enjoy his enjoyment. I do all the dishes thought… it’s hard but I feel I should help out 😉 (Bairbre, if you’re still reading skip the next photo!)

(Look… a new friend)

We’ve met some nice people on our travels. I think we were at our third campsite when we met a couple from Yorkshire. (Hello the Brophy-Laws – the relations in Yorkshire) They gave us the best tip so far… wash the dishes in the campsite sinks (saves water and bottled gas and you meet people) and use the campsite bathrooms (it’s time to describe the toilet facilities…) If you’re of a delicate disposition you might want to skip the next paragraph. Don’t worry there will be NO pictures.

(Ok, when I said NO pictures, I meant no terrible pictures. That little rectangular door in the picture is the door you unlock… full details below)

So… there’s a bathroom (toilet and shower room really) in the camper. The produce of a trip to the bathroom (toilet) goes into the cassette (that’s what they call it!) Every three days the cassette must be emptied. To empty the cassette you unlock (like anyone might steal it) a door near the back of the camper on the passenger side and pull out a box. The box has wheels and a pull out handle (much like a suitcase you might have as carry-on) and you take the walk of shame (the wheels are very loud on the gravel paths and everyone at the campsite knows where you’re going…) to the WC chimique (chemical toilet disposal) where you open the lid and empty your cassette. The WC chimique provides direct access to the sewage system and there’s always a hose nearby to tidy-up. Makes me totally grateful for my bathroom at home.

I’ll save the details about the water tanks for another time, 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.

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