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.

Pam’s Picnic Holidays

September 2, 2015September 2, 2015 | Mairead

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(I remembered it’s Wednesday so I’m doing creative!)

It’s nearly lunchtime as I write and I’m a little distracted… because I’m hungry and today we’re going on a picnic! Ever since Pam commented on Facebook about holidays as a child where her Dad would drive them all over Europe having picnics I couldn’t wait to try it. Maybe I’ll stop now and get back to you later with pictures….

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(Some French desert)

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(Pam’s Picnic Holidays… this is definitely happening)

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(Our picnic site – that’s the Loire)

I’m back from the picnic – it was great! Lovely view, lovely food… not exactly a small French town but almost, it’s a small French campsite. Baby steps. We had the picnic area all to ourselves. Maybe it’s the Irish weather that trains us to be able to sit outside at lunch time? Fortunately, I had remembered the sun cream and the little fluffy clouds managed to shade us at intervals. We made the rolls ourselves: French bread ordered yesterday from reception, French brie (bought in France), French lettuce (bought in France) and some very nice apple chutney made by my mother-in-law. Yum. Maybe a little snooze to follow.

Dear Eilish – please send more, it’s very good! Mairead.

Irish Cuisine in France

August 31, 2015August 30, 2015 | Mairead

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

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

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

(Road to Rosslare)

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

(The almost empty fridge)

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

(Lunch)

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

Viva la Flahavans! Mairead.

Here we go again!

August 29, 2015August 29, 2015 | Mairead

(On the way down I crocheted a jumper for my mug!)

It might come as some surprise to hear that we’re off travelling again. This time to France… and this time in a Camper van. It comes as a bit of a surprise to me. It all happened very fast and I’m still not quite sure how, I’m guessing I’ll be telling that story at some stage but for now, I’m just telling you the travelling is about to begin. As I write we’re waiting in Rosslare Harbour to board the ferry.

Sunny Saturday to you, Mairead

Bubbles of Joy

July 29, 2015July 29, 2015 | Mairead

(Old petrol station in Birr, Co. Offaly)

We’re back home after our week away. We have lots of photos and memories of beautiful places. I have lots of new ideas, as does Denis. Travelling for repeated stretches without the possibility of checking for messages, emails, social media allows little projects to be formed. I suppose you could call it daydreaming. Not every daydream needs to be activated but without action a daydream or an idea is just interesting.

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(Petrol was measured in gallons and charged in pounds, shillings and pence)

Like the idea I had on the first day to photograph old garages – the ones that fix your car. Not the big fancy ones that also sell new cars. The ones that were probably built in the 1950s or 1960’s. They are usually square concrete buildings that some might call ugly – not me. I see a glossy coffee table book with pictures of the owner and some of the staff standing outside the rusted sliding door, with the garage name visible over their heads. I see moody dark pictures of the workbench covered in tools, the only light coming through a small cracked window. I see a paragraph on the story of the building, how the present owner came to be there and who started the enterprise.

Car Accident

(The first death by car accident – Birr!)

For three days I searched the edges of towns we entered trying to spot the type of building I wanted. By the end of the second day I’d seen four and each time I was filled with a bubble of joy. Unfortunately, the bubble of joy lasted longer than it took to drive past and when I woke up I realised I didn’t know where we were, I wouldn’t be able to find that garage again and I hadn’t taken a picture. At the end of day three I decided to share my idea for a garage coffee table book with Denis. As I shared I realised the book would never happen it was just an interesting daydream.

Rock of Cashel Garage

(Picture from early 1960s of my Dad’s garage)

There are a few reasons. First, the market for people interested in square concrete garages is probably very small. Second, coffee table books are very expensive to produce. Third, I’m not confident in my technical ability to take the kind of pictures I see in my mind. Fourth, I am way too afraid to approach the owner of a garage and explain my daydream. But, the main reason this idea will never become a reality…. is because the daydream has nothing to do with garages, it’s all about forgotten memories that fill us with bubbles of joy and we don’t even know why. That’s the great thing about travel, about daydreaming about being in the fresh air with no smartphone… you end up discovering something you didn’t know about yourself, something you didn’t know you didn’t know, if you follow me.

(I scanned the picture of my Dad’s garage above into my laptop today so that I might at least have one old garage picture. Then I noticed for the first time there’s an adult (my mother?) and child (me? my brother?) standing at the door to the shop)

Until the next journey, Mairead.

Obama and Me….

July 24, 2015July 24, 2015 | Mairead

We’ve seen lots more beauty in the past two days since leaving Kilkee but we got a great surprise in a small town called Moneygall.

(Beautiful place on Loop Head called Bridges of Ross)

Around noon I was hungry and we saw a cute little cafe in the town but it was closed so we travelled on for about a kilometre when we spotted a large service station that served Tim Hortons coffee.

(Amazing view near the lighthouse at the tip of Loop Head)

The same coffee we had become addicted to in Canada! We stopped off and had some coffee. Then while we were there a lovely couple from America arrived.

(Swallow feeding her chicks outside our bedroom at a farmhouse near Killaloe)

I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to get a picture with them…

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(Me and Obama)

Turns out it’s their holiday home in Ireland. Who knew? Mairead.

This Beautiful Country

July 22, 2015July 22, 2015 | Mairead

(Adorable little cottage with pretty china cups and tasty maple syrup pancakes)

We’ve arrived in Cashel… Not the Cashel in Tipperary. With the Rock. Where I grew up. The Cashel on the west coast of Ireland, looking out onto the Atlantic Ocean… with lots of rocks… and lots of sea view beauty. But before we left Ballaghaderreen we got to visit the award-winning cafe. It’s called Meet you Here and it was well worth going back. Even though we arrived before opening time the nice lady saw our hopeful faces and unlocked the door. As well as a cafe there was a little gift shop and an art gallery in a tiny gate lodge. It was a bit like being in an adult-size doll’s house. I liked it a lot.

(Peeling paint on a farm building… I’ve been attracted to all the beautiful old farm barns we pass and finally yesterday I got up close and personal with one – want to make this in mixed media!)

Sitting for lunch in the pub on Monday it was easy to see there is a community here in Ballaghaderreen, the tables were full and everyone seemed to know each other. A lady (of a similar age to myself) came in for a cup of tea and sat by herself at a table. As the GAA conversation at the bar became heated regarding whether a foul was real or faked, she looked up and joined in. She had been sitting on her own, reading a book, I thought she was alone. Instead her membership of this community made her part of every conversation, always included. During our stay in the town I had begun to imagine the Irish small towns of the past. I imagined the now boarded up shops on the main street bustling. I imagined a retiring shop keeper having a chat with his daughter about passing the business onto her. I imagined a new arrival deciding to buy a business and hoping it would succeed.

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(View from the bike on the road inland from Leenane towards Cashel)

As we left Ballaghaderreen it had started to rain again and maybe it was the lack of brightness that made me notice the housing estate with windows and doors boarded up, one of the outward signs of the recent recession. The journey to Cashel, Co. Galway took only a couple of hours and the scenery on route was very rugged. I spent most of the time imagining how it might be possible for towns with such a strong sense of community to recover their economy. Although it was overcast and there were some showers it was still possible to remember we live in a beautiful country.

Is it possible for us to live in a beautiful economy as well? Mairead.

On the Road Again

July 20, 2015July 20, 2015 | Mairead

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

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

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

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

(Bumble Bee at work)

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

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

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

Bye for now, Mairead.

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