motorhome

Nice cow

| Mairead

(Isn’t she adorable? All the cows have horns here. She seemed very friendly. The sound of her bell kept us company all day)

We are continuing our journey along northern Spain… slowly. We’ve reduced the driving time to an hour so Denis can work as normal. And we are zig zagging across the motorway (not as dangerous as it sounds) to spend a night near the sea followed by a night in the hills.

(There was an old graveyard near our stop with these pretty flowers just growing wild)

So last night was near the sea. 1.5km from the sea to be exact. We took down the bikes at 5pm and it was a lovely, mainly downhill, ride to the cliffs. Of course when it’s downhill on the way out it’s always uphill on the way back but we managed. We kept ourselves going by remembering the fitness goal might be getting closer.

(Beautiful view at the end of a short bicycle ride)

One of the new routines I started at New Year was drinking celery juice on an empty stomach first thing in the morning. I was very attracted to its benefits. It’s a bit of a palaver washing the stalks, chopping them, mashing them in the blender and then straining the mush through a sieve bag but any habit gets easier if you keep going. I checked with Denis before we left that the solar power battery would be up to the job of running the blender and he answered in the affirmative. We’ve been married long enough for me to realise that yes definitely doesn’t always mean yes definitely to the question you just asked. In this case it meant yes definitely that might work…

(Doesn’t that look like a face on the cliff?)

Now we’re here and I have a blender taking up space in the cupboard and three bunches of celery (from Spain via Tesco Greystones…) taking up space in the fridge with no way of bringing the two together to make juice. I’m lying, whenever we are hooked up to external electricity I can run the blender. This morning we were hooked up and I washed, chopped and began to blend. That’s when I realised how loud a blender is and how thin our walls are and how many people were sleeping around us in their thin walled vans. Maybe it was just about bringing the celery home.

To Spain, I mean. Mairead.

(There we are just west of Santander in a town called Cóbreces. €12 got us parking, electricity, WiFi, toilet and shower)

Ruby fits in just fine

| Mairead

(Plenty of room)

We’re in Spain! We had hoped to move diagonally across Spain to Portugal but the elevation means they’ll be getting snow on Thursday… and we don’t need any more snow experiences, thank you. So we are (sort of) hugging the northern coast with its lower elevation.

(There we are beside the toilet and shower)

Last night we stayed in the mountains, in a tiny village with tiny lanes leading to a lovely little parking spot. There was shower, dish washing sinks and a spotlessly clean toilet. It was free if you didn’t need electricity and we didn’t.

(Mine’s an iced tea)

We went for a drink at the bar in the village and it was full of locals with more people outside (with their coats on.) There was a pharmacy also but no shops as far as I could see, maybe the second bar had a grocery.

(Isn’t that lovely?)

I did get up early this morning and so there was time to go for a walk before we left. We both have a steps app on our phones that compares my steps with Denis’s. One’s competitive nature could mean we’ll both be fitter when we get back! Unfortunately the walks all lead uphill so we didn’t cover much in the way of distance but the views were lovely and the air was entirely healthy for us.

 

(That’s us, the yellow dot west of Bilbao)

From northern Spain, Mairead.

 

 

Kerrygold, Ballymaloe and fried brain

| Mairead

(Cute natural arch in front of the church)

We are making great progress considering how we dawdled at the Le Mont. But between the clock change and the new routine my brain is fried. So it is great to have a little bit of normality in the fridge. I know it sounds crazy considering we’re travelling to get an experience of different. Different places, different people, different languages, and different foods. That will start when the butter runs out so for now it’s ham and coleslaw rolls with lashings of butter and a dollop of Ballymaloe.

(We brought some Ireland with us…)

We left Mont St Michel around 11am yesterday and travelled all day down the west coast to a small town between Niort and Bordeaux. The town was called Saint-Genis-De-Saintonge. Our car park for the night was beside the cinema and our payment included parking, 4 hours of electricity, 10 minutes of water and one free entry to the movie! The movie was called Le Chat du Loup and there was a picture of a submarine on the poster. It was probably in French but if there had been a picture of a garden and a picnic I might have been tempted. I didn’t mention the submarine to Denis, I just said it was about a cat and didn’t sound very interesting. He likes submarine movies. Best he not know.

(French is a tricky language…)

I have a great plan to set my alarm for 6am while we’re travelling. Actually, setting the alarm is the easy part, getting up when the alarm goes off is a bit more difficult… Not helped by the time difference in France. I’ve been trying to explain it to Denis that 6am turned into 5am. (He’s happy with his 8am alarm.) To top it all the daylight savings means this morning my 5am became 4am. Hang on what am I saying, maybe this is why my brain is fried. New plan: no alarm, wake naturally.

I’ll let you know, Mairead.

(Yellow dot at the bottom of this map is where we stayed)

Camping Car Park: Saint-Genis-De-Saintonge.

GPS: 45.483055 -0.566322

Cost: €7 includes electricity, water, cinema

And…. We’re Off!

| Mairead

(From Greystones to…)

It’s an absolutely beautiful day here in Ireland and we are on our travels again! It’s a bit later this year because last March we missed the snow in Ireland, so we waited to see what all the excitement was all about. Getting stuck on the motorway a few weeks ago returning from a visit to Cork in a snowstorm cleared everything up for me – I don’t actually like snow.

(Our car park near Wexford)

But today there is no snow and the sun is shining in a big blue sky. As usual we begin our adventure in a car park. (I know that doesn’t sound very adventurous but the surprising thing is you can have an adventure anywhere, including your own backyard. Really, you can!) This car park is just outside Wexford, about 20 minutes from the ferry port. We are (Denis and I) sucking up the last of the Irish mobile data. Although we are so very very grateful for the roaming data we get free on our travels, it is a much smaller amount than we get at home. Unlimited data in Ireland versus 8Gbytes (pronounced 8 gigabites) a month travelling. I don’t really understand how much data that is, I just know it’s not unlimited. So I’m already thinking I’ll be a bit limited.

(Work in progress… aren’t we all!)

Will I be able to look at the pretty pictures on instagram? Probably not. Will I be able to answer comments on Facebook? Probably not. Will I be able to send blog posts to the website and Facebook? Yes. Will I be able to read emails? Yes. Will I be able to answer emails? Yes. Email me if you want to get the blog posts directly into your email and I’ll set that up for you. So, not completely limited then. I’ll still be connected. Sometimes my thinking can limit me more that the Giggas (that’s what I call my 8Gbytes to make them like me and stretch as bit farther…)

(Art supplies donated by the Irish sea)

We will sail at 8.30pm tonight (Thursday) and arrive at approximately 4pm on Friday in Cherbourg, France. We have decided our first night stop will be Mont Saint Michel, about an hour away. And this makes me so happy. I love Mont Saint Michel. Just seeing it in the distance makes me feel so happy. It used to be an island when the tide was out but now they have built a bridge and there’s a free bus (or you can walk) right to the gates of the town. So you can visit all day every day. It may close at night, I’m not sure. Anyway, that’s where we’ll be on Friday night and Saturday morning. That’s all we know for now.

Wherever we end up my plan is to write to you everyday. I have a couple of projects too and I will share them with you as they happen, in the meantime from my car park adventure to yours big hugs, Mairead.

Goodbye Blog, Hello Ireland!

| Mairead

(Bend in the road)

We’ve come full circle and we’re back sitting in a car park just like we were at the beginning of this trip. Last night we stayed in Bayeux, we stayed there on our first night too. Interesting side note Bayeux had the first ring-road in France. It was built by the British army when they were moving through France from the Normandy coast near the end of the second world war and they didn’t want to go through the center of the old town. Like us they found some of the French streets very narrow. It’s kept it’s English name, the French word for ring road or bypass is périphérique. Perfect place to come full circle.

(Goodbye beautiful countryside!)

Our car park today is in Cherbourg, the port our ferry will leave from and there’s a very good maritime museum here. For the first time in all the times we’ve passed by, today we are visiting. They have a Titanic exhibition which I might have reconsidered had I really thought about it… No, it was great, too great, too life like, too well done… Actually, really well done. There’s a bit where we were standing at the railing looking out to sea and the words the radio operator was typing are displayed in front of us. Distress words. And then the words in reply from the other ships sailing to the rescue. It took two hours to sink and that guy was typing during this time asking for help and those other ships were replying telling him they were coming as fast as they could.

(The old rusty car at the vineyard in Beaujolais)

By the time you read this we will be just off the coast of Wexford. We will be looking out the window at beautiful Ireland and checking our phones for a signal to find out who you picked for us… as President! It’s been great travelling with you, writing to you and sharing the pictures. Thank you so much for reading, I really do appreciate that. Now a little favour, if you have one, could you put out the Child of Prague, it’s a little breezy here…

Until next time, Mairead and Denis.

Inspiration from home

| Mairead

(Colours on a grey day in Argentan after Grahame)

We are making our way to the ferry via the Loire and now we have reached Normandy. All the time the weather is getting colder. The little indicator on the gas bottle was in the red yesterday morning. That was sooner than usual because we’re turning the dial way up on the heating. It’s only seems like last Tuesday we were opening all the windows to generate a draft powerful enough to lift the net curtains.

(Huge moon last night)

As well as the temperature decreasing, the brightness is decreasing. We had fog today for most of the 90 minute journey but then joy, the road stretched upwards through the clouds and we were in sunshine again.

(Path through the woods at Château Sully)

My sister has two great friends, Doris and Grahame, from the time she lived in Toronto, Canada and this week they are visiting Ireland. They have no fear of cold weather – their thermometers go much further down than ours in winter – so of course they are visiting in October. Anyway, I have been noticing the pictures they are taking of their visit – especially as they are visiting my home town – and they are beautiful. I would never go around taking pictures at home like I do here… why not?

(Couldn’t resister another photo from the Canal de Bourgogne, at sunrise)

Today walking back from a French lunch in the grey light, I was inspired by Grahame’s picture of a door in Cashel, to take a picture of a similar door here. Grahame has definitely inspired me to take pictures in my own town, maybe if I go at sunrise no one will see me? As well as that the sunlight, or lack of it – what I would normally call a grey day – makes the colours in the subject pop. That’s a good thing.

(Last of the leaves at Autun)

We get used to the beautiful things around us and stop noticing them until someone from outside comes along and points them out. We get used to calling a perfectly grand day a grey day – meaning it insultingly. We get used to noticing what’s annoying or irritating when there’s lots to see that’s interesting and inspiring.

Thanks, Grahame! Mairead.

Time’s Up!

| Mairead

(The fishermen were out all night on the lake at Autun)

When I was walking up to the château last week the timing was set by my choice to return for French lunch at 12.30pm. I had my phone so I knew I’d know when it was time to leave. Of course when I got up there I realised I had more time so I stuck in an extra experience (coffee and… etc.) and spent the original estimate of an hour to visit the monuments. But I noticed a funny thing – without checking my phone I knew when it was time to leave and start my walk down the hill.

(Near the lake at Autun)

Denis is the best at knowing the time without looking at his phone. I think it’s because he was born on a farm and spent his childhood outdoors while I may have been doing something more interesting… like watching telly. We sometimes do this thing where I say, don’t look at your phone but tell me what time is it? (yes, there is no end to our excitement). Most of the time he will be exactly right and the odd time he might not be exact but he’ll be very close. I’m always way off so I presumed my internal clock was broken. My visit to the château and my sense of it being time to leave has given me confidence in my internal clock.

(Foggy morning on the canal near the Loire at Léré)

I might also have an internal calendar because I can feel something else in my bones – a change in the weather. The sun is only just rising now when we set off in the mornings and the temperature for the past three days has been 5 degrees or less when the clock goes off. Which is magnificent because it means there will be no clouds when the sun rises and sunrise is a beautiful thing to see. So I’ve started taking my porridge out to a bench (they are everywhere – thank you France!) and warming my hands while I sit in the presence of beauty. Of course I have warm trousers, boots, three layers of fleece and a hat but that doesn’t stop me seeing the sun and feeling the beauty. This is the same sun we humans have been counting on to rise every morning. The sun that tells us it’s a new day and we can start again.

(Léré again…)

When I’m home I rarely sit outside for breakfast so I don’t see the sunrise. I’m doing this here because I am reminded our journey will end soon and I am gathering every sunrise like I might gather shells on a beach. Anyway, yesterday when I had a feeling it was time to go home, I trusted it and now we are going home, a week earlier than planned. I absolutely knew it was the right thing to do but right after we changed the ferry tickets I began to doubt myself. It felt like there was an uncomfortably narrow funnel I had to go through to get home and I had just brought it nearer. Near enough to have a good look at it!

(We always bring out the good china for dinner… Chateau Sully on the Loire)

The problem is it was so narrow I couldn’t bring things back through it… I couldn’t possibly bring the beach with the shells, or the freezing cold sunrise, or the French benches. I have to go through on my own with nothing in my arms, no rucksack on my back. It has a sister funnel – the one I go through when we leave Ireland. In that going away funnel I can’t bring my family, I can’t bring my friends, I can’t bring all my art supplies.

(Chateau Sully)

Well, until now I thought I couldn’t bring things through the funnels… but I’ve been looking and I see there is a little space for me to hide things. Like my internal clock and calendar no one will notice I have them… except me. When my internal clock told me it was time to leave the château last week it was right. We all have a working internal clock but we’ll only use it if we trust it…

(Sunrise at motorway services on the A10…)

It’s the same for that space we have for hiding things, the things we can’t bring with us in our arms or on our backs. If we trust that space is real then maybe leaving will be easier. Because nothing really gets left behind.

We’re coming home, Mairead.

Châteauneuf-en-Auxois

| Mairead

(Can you see the hedges zigzagging up to the château? That’s the road)

On Thursday morning after breakfast I left our spot beside the river to climb to the château. It was cold, about 8 degrees but the sun was shining. We were going to do French lunch again as the cupboards were still bare so I needed to be back by 12.30pm. the walk according to google would take 37 minutes, it was now 9.24am. I thought the 37 minutes might be a little optimistic so I was allowing myself an hour to walk up, another to walk down, leaving me with a visit of an hour. In the end google was very close and in spite of my puffing and panting and my stops to take pictures the climb up took exactly 40 minutes!

(Sigh…)

It was such a beautiful walk too, I still feel it now. The slight chill in the air. The colours of the trees. The ducks floating in the canal. The cows eating the grass. After eleven minutes I reached the end of my journey along the canal and had to start on the road that I could see zigzagging towards the château. As I climbed higher the sun felt hot on my back. The gentle walk along the towpath behind me I was pulling myself up the slope. There was the sound of the birds and a distant hum of traffic and something else – my heavy breathing. Fortunately there was no one around I needed to impress.

(Isn’t this seedpod beautiful? The road in the background leads to the canal)

The first manmade structure I came to was the château wall with a wooden door, into the garden, I guessed. The door was locked and there was no indication whether I should go left or right around the wall. By now, 10.04am, the sun was beating down and there was no shade and even an extra few meters in the wrong direction seemed painful. I went right and I was climbing again. But it was a good choice as I was heading into the village of Châteauneuf. From below it’s not clear that there’s a village up here but there is and it’s incredibly pretty. I passed one of the Logis chain of hotels, a pizza restaurant, guest houses and a man charging electric bicycles for hire. I wondered if I should try to negotiate a one way trip back to the canal later.

(Oh look someone seems to have ordered coffee and cake… with cream)

There was also a cafe with tables and chairs outside, you know the ones that look French? Made of metal and circular and painted green. It was open. Having made such good timing and having used up possibly a cake full of calories I went along in and had a coffee and cake…. yes it was only just gone 10am (9am in Ireland…)

(Looking out the gate of the château into the village)

Fortified, I went along into the château and paid €5 for my ticket, well worth it especially for the story of the wife and the sugar dusted flans… So it was the Friday before St. Andrew’s Day in 1450 (or thereabouts) and Catherine of Châteauneuf put some sugar dusted flans on the window seat. (The sugar dusting seems to be important.) Her husband sits down to eat and disaster… he dies shortly after. Also dead is a young servant, Mariote. Everyone thinks Catherine put arsenic into the tarts to poison her husband, no one seems too upset about Mariote. Catherine ends up in jail and someone else gets the château. I don’t think she did it but if I’d known the story earlier I might have skipped the cake.

(I forgot to include the map last time… the red marker is where we were parked by the Canal de Bourgogne. Thanks google maps )

I spent an hour going around the rooms and buildings and then started back down, noting how much easier it is to walk down a hill than up.

I’m still wondering about Catherine and the flans, Mairead.

Like walking into a postcard…

| Mairead

(The camping car aire is to the right of the boats. Can you see the château?)

You know when you’re flipping through a magazine or a brochure and you see these pictures of some beautiful place and you think, wow, that’s just gorgeous, I’d really love to go there, then you turn the page and go on to something else. Well, for years I have a picture in my head that I saw in some brochure for the Canal de Bourgogne. It was absolutely magnificent. There wasn’t a particular location given for the picture, probably suggesting that all along the canal might be as magnificent… and it probably is. Anyway, I didn’t bother doing anything about it, either looking up the canal or asking anyone.

(The locals are very friendly)

Then on Wednesday there we were… in the picture in my head. It’s magnificent. Now I have some more pictures to keep in my head and you can have some of them too… At every turn there was something pretty, something reflecting light, something drifting along. In case you ever want to visit, here’s the location details: the village is called Vandenesse-en-Auxois, the château is called Châteauneuf-en-Auxois and the red marker on the map below (thanks to Google maps) marks the spot.

(The colours…)

It was too hot to walk up to the Château on Wednesday when we arrived and since there were no grocery shops in town and our cupboards were bare we went for a French lunch. Fortunately, there was a restaurant.) Might have mentioned before that the French are very precise when it comes to mealtimes. Lunch happens between 12.30pm and 2pm, not before and not after. It’s a four course all-included affair for anywhere from €10 to €15 or more. We arrived at 12.01pm as we were hungry and with all the cars parked outside we were concerned about getting a seat. The place was hopping when we arrived. There was a big group around the bar and a good number dotted around the tables. Monsieur took a moment as they do to welcome us and point to a table. We sat down.

(No cars… )

The table was set and there was a bottle of water. We drank the water and waited. We were wondering when the menu might come but the starter arrived at precisely 12.30 so we didn’t need to wonder anymore – there was no choice. That was actually a relief because every meal we eat in France has been delicious so whatever arrives will be ok with us.

(Can you make out the château in the mist?)

At this point the tables were full, mainly men, possibly coming from work. They looked right at home like maybe they came here everyday. And why wouldn’t they, the meal was lovely. I tried the sweet cheese – even when the Mademoiselle explained you pour sugar into it! I thought we misunderstood but no, one of the locals was doing just that. It tasted like a plain yogurt… with sugar.

Next time I’ll tell you about visiting the château, Mairead.