Hello, is that Monica?

March 8, 2017 | Mairead

(The neighbours walking their dog last night)

We’ve moved again and now we’re about 30 minutes inland, in a campsite near the town of Lourical. The sun is shining and we are parked between two orange trees. I can hear hens and I believe there’s a pig somewhere around. This is a very interesting site. We found it by accident but it seems like a place we would pick to stay if we’d known!

(Sunset over the Atlantic later last night)

Anyways it’s run by a Dutch couple and they have young helpers. During busy season there’s a very pretty restaurant (with good reviews) but it looks like we are the only ones here so we may be unlucky with that. One thing we are very lucky with is the train station. There’s one in a nearby town and we will be able to park in the supermarket and take the train to Porto (Yay Porto) when Denis gets word from Monica.

(The restaurant at our new campsite)

Still no word from Monica… 😦

(They have a (tiny) farmers market in the garden)

Real time drama: Denis maybe you need to ring Monica? Denis considers his options and rings Monica. I can’t hear the other side of the conversation but Denis doesn’t look happy, overjoyed or ready to dash off to Porto. He looks… confused. I think there might be a problem with the fixing…. Ok, Denis has just got off the phone with Monica. Monica was just about to ring Denis. There is a problem. The part cannot be shipped and there is an email on it’s way from the manufacturer to explain. I suppose we won’t be rushing back to Porto (missing Porto already) …and that grand idea with the supermarket car park and the train… poof!

(A hen jumped out of this hay stack – she was hiding her eggs. Hens not in full agreement with the farmers market?)

So here we are in a beautiful tree, animal, egg filled garden campsite enjoying the sun. Now what?

Step 9. Gratitude… for the old, slow computer that is working.

Wake up it’s beautiful!

March 3, 2017March 2, 2017 | Mairead

Well, it’s been a wet few days since last Sunday and that’s made it easier to be working away inside the camper on the MindCraft website, which is now up and running – here’s the link. Today is overcast but dry so I’ve had my walk on the boardwalk and I’ve also spotted my first Camino walkers.

(Not a great photo but that white blob on the guy’s rucksack is a Camino Shell)

One of the things I noticed on the little bit of the Camino I walked (near Lisbon last year) was the amount of cafes/bars/restaurants out in the middle of nowhere that are open and will make you something to eat at any time of the day. The same is true in this area. On my walk today I passed ten little places open for business. I was walking to turn around and walk back so I didn’t stop but I’m dreaming up a plan to go for a walk and stop at as many little cafes as possible along the way. Of course as they sell beer and wine too I’ll be either wired due to the caffeine, sleepy due to the food or singing due to the alcohol.

(Isn’t that just beautiful?)

We got the go ahead from Monica in Porto, today too, to say that Denis’ computer will be ready tomorrow afternoon. So we’ll be off to Porto in the morning via the taxi and the train. We now know our way around the ticket machine, the train and the map of the city so that’s great right?

(Perfect little beach on my walk today)

Well, it’s not really, because that’s when I stop noticing things. You know how it is when you go somewhere new and you notice everything. The colours of the houses, the odd tradition of putting tiles outside on the walls, the orange colour of the roofs, the different cars, the funny shaped busses, the new trains, the old trams, the eucalyptus trees, the friendly smiling people, the strange language, the incomprehensible billboard messages, the street signs, the sounds, the smells…

(How could I ever be blind to this?)

But then as soon as you start to get comfortable and things are a little familiar you stop seeing them. Oh look at that statue, what statue? Of course it’s normal, there are millions and millions of pieces of information bombarding our senses in every moment and our poor brain can only handle a certain amount. So it prioritizes.

(That bridge (does it remind you of the Eiffel tower?) is the one I am standing on in the photo above)

It prioritizes on the unfamiliar stuff and of course the life-threatening stuff (that tram heading straight for you!) When the unfamiliar stuff becomes familiar our brain says, great one less thing to notice, now I can go back to looking for scary stuff. Thereby missing the beautiful, stuff, sniff, sniff.

(I love everything in this picture!)

It’s one of the things I love about travelling – I see the beautiful stuff! At home it’s harder to see beautiful stuff because my brain is only looking for life-threatening, beauty just isn’t life-threatening enough to be noticed. It’s part of the backdrop, it’s familiar so it disappears. Porto is beginning to feel like home… so I’m beginning to go blind to the beauty all around me.

Step 7. Stay awake to the beauty, Mairead.

Sometimes it rains in Portugal…

February 27, 2017 | Mairead

It’s raining! I know you will be disappointed for me but I’m ok, I have some work to do so it’s probably just as well I won’t be able to sit outside sunning myself… I hear it’s sunny in Ireland!

(Rocky and a bit cloudy in the distance on Saturday)

My friend Linda (of the tours around Porto) and I ran a workshop called MindCraft at the beginning of February and we’ll be running another one in May and again in June. This week I’m working on explaining what it’s all about for our website. I’ll send you a link as soon as it’s up and running but I thought I could start explaining now to get my thought processes working.

(Smooth and blue skies on Friday)

MindCraft is a combination of Mindfulness and Crafting in a one day workshop. The Mindfulness part of it is all about staying present with what’s happening around you and within your body instead of the usual things we do. The usual things like thinking and worrying about the future or thinking and worrying about the past. Or regretting the past or wishing we could repeat it or change it. Or wishing the present could be different. Or wishing we were different. Or wishing other people were different. We sure do a lot of useless thinking when all we really need to do is stay present and aware and deal with what’s right in front of us, right now.

(There are lots of small gardens like this around here, all dug by hand. In need of rain, I suppose)

Last year when Denis was diagnosed with prostate cancer, everything slowed down to the essential – what do I need to be doing now? I don’t think it’s the big things that cause worry and anxiety… it’s the thinking about what if the big thing happens. In my experience when the big thing does happen you are kinda too busy dealing with it to be thinking about anything.

(Another one, the small plants look like potatoes, maybe))

Mindfulness is about making us strong enough to deal with whatever life throws at us. So we have a little calm, contentment and the space to think about the important things… love, joy, peace, purpose, relationships, family, connection, community. The crafting is all about creativity and creativity is the route to finding solutions to our challenges. This is important: Thinking and anxiety are not the route to finding solutions to our challenges. Creativity is the route to finding solutions to our challenges, problems, concerns, difficulties, dilemmas, quandaries, troubles, irritants, stumbling blocks, obstacles, the lot! Creative solutions are what it’s all about. Every one of us is creative but not every one of us knows it. MindCraft wants everyone to know they are creative and that they can come up with their own creative solutions.

(And another one, I think there’s spring onions there)

So here I sit doing the work I need to do to make the message clear and simple… Mindfulness Strengthens Your Mind, You Are Creative, Creativity Solves Problems!

(Interesting looking rocks on the beach)

But it’s not enough for me to just make the message clear for myself or others. Writing about mindfulness will not help me to be mindful, thinking about creativity will not help me to come up with creative solutions. So here I sit, also, doing the work of living the message. Everyday I practice mindfulness, I practice noticing what is around me, I practice exchanging worry and anxiety for beauty, I practice exchanging thinking for feeling my feet on the ground, I practice writing and photography and I practice telling myself, this is enough, you are doing enough, you are enough.

(Behind the harbour buildings there are tables where the women sell the newly caught fish. That’s a cat on the fish scales. Fish weighing scales I mean…)

Step 6. Do the work, Mairead.

Porto, Porto, Porto, sigh

February 24, 2017 | Mairead

(Lots of coffee)

As I was saying yesterday, we went to Porto on Tuesday to get Denis’ computer fixed. When booking into this campsite in Vila Chã I had seen instructions (kindly translated into three different languages) explaining how to buy tickets for the metro to Porto. Up until that moment I didn’t know about a metro or that it was nearby. If you are a regular reader you might remember our attempt (failed attempt) to visit Porto in order to buy a wi-fi sim for Portugal last January. We were challenged by the roads, the sat nav and the lack of data sims (!) and so in spite of the valiant efforts and friendliness of the people we bumped into (not literally) we saw nothing of Porto except the hospital (the outside of the hospital where we got a taxi) and didn’t get wifi until we arrived in Lisbon. Anyways that was last year.

(The instructions for taking the metro from Vila Chã)

So there I was on Sunday morning sitting in reception thinking if only we were staying more than one night…. and – huge gratitude to a broken computer – we were! So, Tuesday morning I took a photo of the instructions and asked reception to call a taxi and off we set. The instructions are long and detailed but eventually we worked them out and got valid tickets. The train arrived, very modern and clean… and very popular so we had to stand for the half hour journey. But nothing could dampen my spirits, my friend Linda had told me about her trip to Porto, the Port vine growing area and the Douro River boat trip so I couldn’t wait.

(Higgledy Piggledy houses)

First stop, the computer repair shop. We had worked out it was near the metro stop, Casa da Música and there it was but we were five minutes early so we went back to the station and had a very nice coffee and (to celebrate finding the repair shop) a pastry (the pastries in Portugal are many, varied and very good and as far as I can ascertain not one of them is low carbohydrate but I will continue to check for you…)

(Spring in Porto)

Then we went back to the shop and met a lovely lady called Monica (who spoke perfect English), by the time we left, Monica had taken the computer and promised to love it until it was returned to Denis and she also pointed out some interesting places on our tourist map. I wrote last year about how friendly and helpful the Portuguese people are but it bears repeating… Every single person we meet is happy to help, to speak English, to direct, to suggest, to chat. They seem to like Ireland and feel a certain affinity to the Irish. They too are interested in the stranger, the music and the gentle art of enjoying a pint. They just seem to like people and they are curious about the story.

(Not all the trams say Jameson Irish Whiskey, but the one I was on did!)

Leaving the computer in capable hands we got back on the train, 90 minutes hadn’t passed so our tickets were still valid (by the way the cost of the 30 minute return metro trip and use of the ticket for 90 minutes? €2.75! You have to love Portugal) and we set off for the center of Porto. We got off at the Trindade station and easily found the tourist office where we met another really friendly Portuguese lady. We set off again with instructions on how to get to… the most beautiful bookshop in the world, a Meo (mobile phone – the wi-fi again) shop and the old tram tour.

(Livraria Lello… possibly inspired JK Rowling?)

The most beautiful bookshop in the world is called Livraria Lello (Lello’s book shop) The photos I took don’t do it justice, so you’ll just have to trust me it is adorable. There’s a story that JK Rowling was inspired by this shop and the black capes of the students at the nearby University (she taught English here) when she wrote Harry Potter. I’d believe it. If you like Harry Potter you would love this shop. No one is buying books, they are taking pictures. Of the bookshelves, the staircase, the roof light window, the facade. So it’s probably just as well that they charge a €4 entry (that can be exchanged for part payment of any book.)

(I liked the tram… it was Fear-less!)

We have to go back to Porto to collect the computer from Monica next Friday and that’s just as well because a day wasn’t long enough for this city. We had great food and coffee and I went on the old tram but we haven’t seen any port cellars or gone on the boat trip.

Step 5. Take more tram rides, Mairead.

Hello again, Fear!

February 21, 2017 | Mairead

(The Portuguese town of Chaves)

We have arrived in Portugal! It only took seven days! Yep, I know a lot, right? Last time we talked I’d stopped talking to Fear. Remember? Well it only lasted 24 hours. Here’s what happened…

(The walk by the river. Can you see the path ahead tunnels through the rock?)

It was a beautiful evening in Entrago so I went for a walk on a pretty path beside the river, the birds were singing, the water was gushing and the sun was shining. I took some pictures for you and then went back to the car park for a dinner of cold pizza and salad. Yum (not really.)

(The gushing river)

It was very cold next morning when we left, about 2ºC there was even hard frost on the bicycle seats. I was a little concerned that we might have to travel back the road we drove in but no… no, we took a different, far more scary road. Something I hadn’t considered when I thought it might be nice to have a look at the Picos – their altitude! To get a good look you really have to go up and into them… and then some day soon you have to come back up out of them again…

(That’s us in the car park in Entrago with the snow covered mountains in the background)

Remember last post when I said we could see hundreds of mountains from the car park and some far away mountains had snow on them? Well, it turned out they were not far enough away. We drove to, over and beyond the mountains with the snow on them. Oh yes and I was back talking to Fear.

(That’s snow… This is a nice wide road, I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking long enough to take a picture of the not nice narrow road)

Anyways, he told me to blame Denis… And I did. Up on top of one of those mountains with the snow lined roads I asked (out loud and in a very shrill tone) Who’s idea was it to visit the Picos, anyway? Of course everyone knows that I meant: This is completely your fault, Denis! Everyone… except Denis, it seems. As happy as a pig in muck he says, it was you but now is not a good time to be assigning blame, can you clear the condensation from the window I’m finding it hard to see.

(We stopped at a layby at the bottom of the mountains… we found frost covered orange peel)

Holy Jeepers, he can’t see! I set to the job of clearing the window with enthusiasm. And then I could see. I saw this magnificent place and I remembered that Fear makes me mean and shrill and cross and stops me seeing the magnificence all around me. I stopped talking to him. Fear, I mean, I stopped talking to Fear, not Denis. I’m talking to Denis.

Step 3. Repeat Step 2, Mairead.

The house special and a van full of whiskey…

March 3, 2016March 2, 2016 | Mairead

(Spotted this van near reception yesterday)

Whiskey Van

(The writing on the side…)

We are still in Luz near Lagos and it’s just starting to get warm enough to sit outside and write… wearing three layers, thick fleece, woolly socks, boots and sun hat! So this is what spring looks like… here. I’ve been getting weather reports from my Mam and twitter (two very good sources) and spring in Ireland seems a little different. We went to visit the southern edge of Europe on Saturday, the bit of Portugal that points south into the Atlantic Ocean. It was very windy and then rainy and then sunny, familiar. Familiar is nice.

(The tip of Portugal looks a bit like an open crab claw with Cabo de São Vicente (above) on one tip and Sagres on the other)

We met a lovely couple on the bus to Lagos last week who recommended a restaurant in the nearby village. You really don’t need recommendations as the food in Portugal has been really good, no matter where we go. This one wasn’t Portuguese but we thought we’d give it a try anyway.

(The landscape at Ponta de Sagres. Kinda like the Burren?)

There were lots of free tables when we got there but despite my very winning smile (normally..) the grumpy man behind the bar didn’t react to our arrival, so we picked a good spot, sat down and waited. We waited a long time during which the occupants of the only other table had taken out their iPod and started a 70’s sing-a-long. Maybe this was the wrong place?

(The lighthouse at the fort on Ponta de Sagres)

While we were considering our options the grumpy man arrived with menus saying, there’s a lovely Chicken Pie special. We spotted some interesting dishes on the menu and when he arrived back with drinks we asked about a few. Each special we asked about was off or finished or just for the summer season and then he mentioned the lovely Chicken Pie again… we looked at each other and there was a long pause…

(The beach at the peninsula behind the fort at Ponta de Sagres)

I gave in first, I’ll have the Chicken Pie, please. The grumpy man perked up slightly. Denis wasn’t ready to let go of an interesting steak and sausage thingy and tried again. To which grumpy man replied, ok but it’ll take a while, I have to defrost the sausage. Denis was torn but smart enough to say, no, sur’ I’ll have the special too, thanks. Grumpy man almost smiled. The Chicken Pie was very nice and by the end of the night we were humming along with Gloria Gaynor’s I will Survive.

We have a new rule: Portuguese Restaurants Only. Mairead.

Making peace with embarrassment

February 25, 2016February 24, 2016 | Mairead

(Palm tree trunk)

We’re still in Luz so I’m getting comfortable here, starting to feel right at home… which means some of my old habits are popping up. (By the way, I’m working away happily on my book so that’s probably why I keep thinking of habits and beliefs.)

(Lagos, old town)

So… one of my habits is, I see something I want to do but just before I do it, I think, “nooo, I would look stupid, much too embarrassing to do that!” Then afterwards when I don’t do it I feel a bit miserable for not doing it. A bit of a misery cycle. This habit is masking a couple of beliefs. The one that stops me doing the thing I want to do: What other people think of me is important and it needs to be positive. And the one that makes me feel miserable when I don’t do it: Trying new things is really good for my health. A bit of a self-judgemental cycle.

(Like blue sky)

At the same time I have returned to meditation, fifteen minutes every morning. And there’s something useful in the meditation practice that can help me untangle the misery and self-judgemental cycles. It’s about noticing whatever it is you’re feeling, just noticing, not thinking, just noticing… in your body. Not in your head, in your body. (Over emphasising might be a habit too?)

(Blue water, blue boat, blue jacket, blue hat)

So… I’m practicing meditation on my embarrassment. Each day (since Monday) I do one thing that I know would cause me to feel embarrassed and I notice what that’s like. In. My. Body. Monday morning I went to the outdoor gym! I had been looking at the equipment since last Wednesday when we arrived, thinking that looks like fun! Then the misery/self-judgemental cycle began, so I didn’t dare.

(Boat for sale…)

But on Monday morning I got into my baggy pants and approached the gym area. Slowly. Giving me time to notice the embarrassment and I noticed it… but it was a bit different. Too late to turn back I arrived at the area and there’s another camper doing gym things (and doing them really well) smiling and saying hello. Having a lot of embarrassing thoughts now but remembering just in time to NOTICE IN MY BODY I squeak out, Hi, which one of these is good for a beginner?

(Cobblestones)

She is really friendly, Dutch or German I think and delighted to point me towards a swing-swong kind of thing and I start swinging and it is fun. So much so that I try a stand-up-rowing machine thing next but that’s a bit harder. Just as I start to feel stupid and think this is too hard I remember to NOTICE IN MY BODY and I slow down and it’s ok. Feeling embarrassed is actually ok… the thing that’s upsetting is the thinking about being embarrassed, the thinking about the people watching, the thinking about the people who are good at this fun thing.

(Rocks and sea at Luz… doesn’t it look like Greystones? Or does everything remind us of Ireland?)

Sooo, I’m stand-up-rowing with a smile on my face and a hello for all the people walking by and my new Dutch or German friend says, the hardest thing is to stop yourself competing with other people, just do your best. Well, wasn’t that lovely? I feel quite emotional all of a sudden. I’m rowing away and I’m thinking this embarrassment thing isn’t so bad. Then a group of six toned Swedish women jog past and I wave and nearly fall off my stand-up-rowing machine.

There should be a health warning on these machines, Mairead.

Chicken Farming on the coast of Portugal

February 22, 2016 | Mairead

(Walking along the promenade, Lagos)

We have arrived in the south part of Portugal – the Algarve. We are about 2 km from a town called Luz and 6km from the city of Lagos (pronounced Laa Gosh.) The sun is back and today we cycled to the nearest beach in Luz. I feel very virtuous even though I had to walk the bit over the little hill… I had forgotten how great it felt to cycle. Yesterday we took the bus to Lagos and got lots of pictures. We found a very old walled town by the sea and a modern marina full of big boats.

(Lagos, old town)

We walked up and down the small streets, until we found a little cafe and settled down to writing postcards. Well, I was writing postcards, Denis was reading a book about Victoria and Albert (of Victoria and Albert museum, Queen Victoria, Albert Hall, fame…) He was really enjoying the book and every now and again he’d start chuckling…

(Lost of colour in Lagos)

To be honest it was a bit distracting, so I stopped writing to get curious about something that’s been on my mind – Failure. Or… how to consider the concept of failure in a different way. The phrase Fail… to Move On was in my head when I woke up yesterday morning. I think the easiest way to explain what I’m trying to say is with a little story….

(Love old doors, Lagos)

Once upon a time there was a young man, called, João (pronounced Jue/wan, Portuguese for John.) João had dreamed of being a chicken farmer since he was a boy. His dream had finally come true and he had enough money to purchase a small holding with chickens. He was working full-time as a builder but at the weekends he sold his chicken’s eggs at the market. He had plans to increase his holding and rent his neighbour’s field next door. Then the fox came with his extended family of foxes and most of the chickens were killed. The ones who survived were so traumatised that they stopped laying, got sick and died.

(Some boats at the marina in Lagos, for Dave)

João had no eggs to sell at the weekend markets and no chickens to take care of, he was heartbroken. His neighbour felt very sorry for him and invited him over for coffee one morning. They got chatting and the neighbour told João about his cousin, Sara (pronounced Serra) in the next town who had a chicken farm. Since her husband died she found it very hard to do all the work on her own. Maybe João would consider helping her? João said no he had enough of the chicken game, he was going to give up on his dream and settle down to normal life. The neighbour understood and said no harm done just though I’d ask. She’s very good-looking.

Saw this pretty thing as I was about to sit on it!)

João thought he’s misheard his neighbour so he said, Sorry? The neighbour explained that Sara, the chicken farmer, had been widowed young and was in fact, the same age as João. Also, she was a very good-looking woman. Oh. Right. João finished up his coffee, said thank you to the neighbour and set off for home. He sat in his kitchen late that night looking out at his empty chicken run. When he woke in the morning he had decided that there would be no harm in having a chat with the chicken farmer. If nothing else he’d have a look at her chickens, he missed looking at chickens.

(Choppy seas but warm air in Luz)

Fail… To Move On. What if failure stops us settling for less? Opening the way to move on to the real thing…. Mairead.

Lost and Found in Portugal

February 18, 2016February 17, 2016 | Mairead

(This is a close up…. I was at least 100 meters away)

We’ve been moving around a lot lately, it seems, in search of warm dry weather. We moved from Castro Verde to Porto Covo – think Ballycotton in April, it was a bit grey with showers of rain and sleet and gale force winds. Then we moved just down the road to Vila Nova de Milfontes, where the weather was better (it was better everywhere, we just happened to be there.) That’s where I got lost trying to find the post office and the cobblers.

(Stormy Porto Covo)

I’ve brought a lot of clothes on this trip… but all I needed was a fleece (warm) and boots (warm and rain proof.) The boots had begun to object from over use – the sole had separated from the upper and was starting to trip me up. I asked the lady at reception and she was delighted to show me where to go. On the map. Turns out I’m not good with maps…

(The blue and white is very Porto Covo)

But I love maps. I love to know exactly where I am… and how to get to somewhere else. It comes from my childhood. Our Dad taught my brother and me how to read a map and how to give directions to the numerous tourists visiting out town. He ran the local petrol station and we earned money working there during our teenage years We had strict instructions when giving Americas directions not to send them on the wrong road to Kilkenny. Send them on the main road, they like big roads and they won’t get lost. I remember often explaining to people who really wanted to go on the small road that they wouldn’t like it!

(Not the cobblers. The river Mira flowing into the Atlantic Sea. Hello M(o)ira!)

Anyway, I went in (completely) the wrong direction and found myself with a beautiful view. I found the cobblers the next day and with the help of one of his friends I got the message across that my sole needed gluing and he got the message across that it would be ready in the afternoon.

(Shout out to my brother who is doing a triathlon called (I think) The Power of a Torn Knee. My sister-in-law sent me this photo of him, doing some training. Go Lar!)

Sometimes it’s good to get lost, Mairead.