travel

Thanks Mam, for Picking my Dad

| Mairead

2018 2

(Our bridge at Alcacer do Sal in the afternoon…)

It’s my Dad’s birthday today. He died on this day 16 yeas ago, but he’s alive in everything I do. For instance this week he was at the Creativity Workshop with me (again, nothing weird going on here…) From the moment it was time to lay down on the floor for the first exercise, he was getting involved.

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(…at sunset)

The exercise was so relaxing, we were to think about our grandmother, didn’t matter which one or even if it was our real grandmother. Then we went off to visit her under the sea (note: no, I did not get into a body of water) because it turned out I could breathe under water (note: no). I was considering my maternal grandmother, getting settled into meeting her again, but no my Dad says, look it’s my mother! So I met my paternal grandmother under the sea. She was delighted to see me. She wanted to hear my stories. She gave me a green pebble with swirling designs on it and sent me back to fight a dragon. As you do.

2018 4

(…at night)

I suppose it’s my own fault. We had to bring something from childhood with us to the workshop. In my group the other two people, Jodie and Mitch (waves) brought pictures of their well-loved teddy and rabbit from babyhood. Pictures, because they were travelling by plane and their toy was so precious that plane travel was too dangerous. That’s precious. I couldn’t think what to bring, I didn’t have a childhood toy. So I brought a picture of my Dad and me when I was nearly two, I’m standing on his hand. So I brought my Dad to the workshop.

2018 5

(My dad and me doing our party trick!)

I’ve known about my acrobatic gift for a long time and I’ve seen the photo many times in the last 50+ years. I’m almost up to the ceiling and I’m as cool as a cucumber. I have the cutest shoes and the worst type of check kilt. I’m adorable, can hardly keep my eyes off myself. It’s only when I shared it with Jodie and Mitch and they point out my Dad’s face that I see how he looks at me. He can’t take his eyes off me and he looks so happy.

Imagine our lives if we knew we inspired that reaction just by being ourselves. Mairead.

Beware of: Beware of Pickpockets!

| Mairead

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(Black and white and red and green Lisbon…)

It’s 4am. I’m awake. I think. This week has been like a dream, maybe I’m not awake…

Here’s what happened at the workshop (and here’s a link to the website: thecreativityworkshop.com) Shelley and Alejandro said some stuff and now I believe I can be a fairy princess… No, no, not can be, I believe I am a fairy princess.

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(Go left, that is unless…)

Here’s what happened… there was an exercise on the first day called the Interview. You had to pair up in your free time with another participant and interview them with the purpose of introducing them to the group the next day. So I’ve been to enough workshops to recognise this exercise but, there’s a twist. When you sat in front of the group the next day you were your partner. (Note: I forgot to ask my partner for permission before she left yesterday so I won’t be using her real name or her details but I hope you’ll still get the gist.)

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(Tiles in Colégio Militar, my metro station by the big scary bridge)

My partner’s name is Virginia (note: see previous note, her name is not Virginia…) So when I sat in front of the class I said My name is Virginia and I come from Wales, the one in America (note: no she doesn’t…) and then proceeded to tell a story about Virginia. As if I was Virginia. Right, I’m going to assume you’ve got the idea. The being-your-partner twist might seem like a small twist, it was not a small twist for me.

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(Mats in Sintra)

Anyways, going back to the day of the interview. Day 1 of the Workshop, the day I got lost and un-lost going to the workshop and also got lost and un-lost returning from the workshop: In order to interview Virginia (who was determined to get to know as much of Lisbon as she could in 5 days) we travelled to the other side of the city for lunch and a flea market, as you do. So I was perfectly placed for the getting lost part of this story. I got lost. (As an aside I almost met, but didn’t because she didn’t know my name yet and felt shy of calling out, Hey you from my workshop, Karen (from Canada, who never reads blogs) had also travelled with her friend all the way across Lisbon, coincidentally, to precisely, exactly the same spot I got lost in… are you getting this? I hope you’re hearing Twilight Zone music.)

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(Fountain in Sintra)

Moving along and returning to the point. Picture this, I am losing myself in the tiny crowded streets of Lisbon. I have a backpack the size of a small child on my back carrying everything I might need (except plasters, but that’s a different story.) Google still doesn’t know where I am and the only thought in my mind is, beware of pickpockets. (I need to jump aside here again, to say: Beware of thinking: “beware of pickpockets”!) So that when Karen saw me, she said I was moving in a determined fashion (she used other words but this is a mixed audience, no just joking, I can’t remember her exact phrase.) What she didn’t know was that I had lost my mind (… to thinking). The moment I found my bus to the campsite, I remembered Virginia. Oh my god, Virginia’s story is amazing. Followed by, I wonder if she knows it’s amazing? All the way home on the bus and later in the camper van I was preparing for my starring role as Virginia. Not in the, oh holy god how will I get up in front of all these people I’ve just met? No, instead, I could hardly wait to get up in front of everyone! I imagined how I would do it. I would persuade Virginia that we should volunteer to go first! Neither Virginia nor Mairead seem like the volunteer-to-go-first types. But they did volunteer to go first and they told their stories first.

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(Cheese wrapper from keep-in-touch dinner in Sintra)

I want to tell you Virginia’s story, but as I mentioned earlier I forgot to ask and it’s a bit personal, so I will have to change it a little… but I’m tired now, so I’ll tell you tomorrow… or the next day.

Night, night, Mairead.

The inevitable happened…

| Mairead

2018 4 1

(I’ve run out of photos in Lisboa, so here’s even more narrow roads from Ericeira)

Still having a great time at the workshop. Here’s more news about my travel experiences. I took the bus-metro combination again today so I was singing songs again and I’m getting louder. This isn’t a problem because I travel across the big white up in the sky bridge very slowly and most people have reached the other side while I am getting to the top of the steps. In other words there’s no one around.

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(Modern mosaic…)

It was raining at the time so when I got into the metro I took off my coat and stuffed it into my rucksack. When I was getting out I realised my ticket was in my coat in my rucksack so I took out my coat again. I was distracted and I forgot to close up my rucksack. Disaster, my purse and my phone were at on top. The inevitable happened…. I was standing by the door waiting for my stop when a young girl tapped my arm. I turned but didn’t understand what she said. She persisted and pointed behind me. I looked at the seat I had vacated but there was nothing there. She tried again using English: your bag is open.

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(This way…)

Oh… and it was open. I thanked her in English and Portuguese and we both smiled. When the doors opened I turned back to wave and she said, have a nice day. It was such a small thing but it felt really big. We had a moment of smiling again and I said, You, have an especially nice day!

The inevitable thing that happens… is kindness, Mairead.

Is this morning sickness?

| Mairead

2018 4

(I like this house in the middle of the city. It’s behind a big gate, I peeped in…)

I think I might be pregnant or I’m a gardener… it’s one or the other, I’m not sure.

2018 1

(Who lives at 55?)

When I write a blog post I just sit down and start dumping all the things that are in my head into the computer. Then I delete some things, add some things, change some things, mix up some things, until I’m happy enough with what I see and then I post it. I never expect the first dump of words that come out of my head to be the finished post. I have to let them come out, not criticise them, not mistrust them, not judge them, not shout at them, just allow them. Allow them to sit in the computer for a while before it’s time for the pruning. Only then will they get a chance to thrive. This week at the workshop I realised I am a gardener for my blog.

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(There’s a garden behind this door…)

Last night I couldn’t sleep (me either, Julie!) because I have a great idea and I don’t know what to do. If you know me or get me or even just read me you will know that I say the sentence I have this great idea, regularly. It’s one of my favourite sentences in the whole, entire world. It’s always closely followed by a bunch of my least favourite sentences in the whole entire world, That’s a terrible idea. But how will I do it? I can’t do it! Someone else has already done it! People will think I’m ____. What if I can’t do it? I hate this idea!

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(This is a wise owl’s house)

This morning (3am ish) I started to think that maybe I need to be a gardener for my ideas? The gestation period for the blog posts lasts a few hours and then it’s born, but the gestation period for an idea lasts much longer. I’ve heard, a good gardener honours the gestation period of his seeds. He does not prod at the seed. He does not start pruning as soon as the first teeny tiny leaf pops out of the seed. He does not expect every seed will survive. He does not warn each seeds that his entire reputation and the reputation of his family depends on them and they better perform well.

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(Lines, angles and branches)

I am gestating a seed of an idea. It might take a while. It might take months. But nothing is gong to happen unless I put the seed in fertile soil, on a sunny window and water it. Even then nothing might happen. But I love this idea so much I will trust it to do its best to grow. This reminds me of a quote the I love from the Talmud, Every blade of grass has an angel that bends over it and whispers, “Grow! Grow!” I will be the angel for my idea.

Turns out I’m not pregnant, I’m an angel, Mairead.

The Portuguese Cafe God

| Mairead

2018 5

(Yesterday morning I had to cross this scary bridge, it goes over two dual carriageways! I sang Christmas songs to myself to stop me closing my eyes and lying down. I went back today to take pictures for you.. you’re welcome)

I am having a ball at my workshop! Can’t find a way to write about it yet because there are so many things to write. So what I do when I have too much choices I set boundaries… I’m only going to talk about getting to my workshop for today. Well I got there, that’s the best bit. I did get lost… and while I was lost the data on my phone wasn’t working so I couldn’t find myself…

2018 6

(It’s very high, trucks go under it))

That’s when I invoked one of the gods – the god of Portuguese cafes (note: not a real god). He lives behind the most unattractive of exteriors, so be prepared. If you see a beautiful or pretty or plastic perfect cafe – that’s not the place. Choose a cafe you think is closed or old and wrinkled or dark and uninviting. That’s where he lives. I found him when I couldn’t find myself.

2018 2

(Potentially a perfect home for the god of Portuguese cafes, unfortunately it’s not a cafe)

I had a choice. On one corner there was a shiny new lovely looking cafe. On the opposite corner there was an old and shabby cafe. The lady behind the counter was busy but eventually she spotted little lost me and gave me that pained quizzical look we all give to someone we don’t understand. I used to be afraid of that look, now I am in awe that someone is curious enough to wonder what it is I’m saying. I was saying big coffee and pastry. She worked it out.

2018 3

(When I got here I found myself)

Then I sat with my coffee and pastry at a table with god (note: do not be afraid there’s nothing weird going on here… probably) and I opened my detailed paper map. It’s a great map, I could see exactly where the workshop venue was which made me hopeful but I could not see where I was. I opened my phone, google didn’t know where I was either. God said (note:see previous note…) drink your coffee and eat your nata, it’s all going to be fine-ish. I drank my very good coffee and ate my very good nata.

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( I got lost on the way home too, but if I hadn’t I would have missed this: a street that seems too narrow to drive up… that have no fear)

I paid the lady as I was leaving and had an idea to ask her if she might un-lost me. She looked at my map, she looked at me, then she said some old magic words (she might have been invoking god too… or it could have just been Portuguese) and she pointed down the road. You know I’m still not sure if she knew where I was going but she pointed me in the right direction. She did. I found my way.

Kind stranger ✔ Mairead.

P.S. Denis says I need a disclaimer… DISCLAIMER. DISCLAIMER: please be advised that we take no responsibility for the result you get when following the choosing a cafe suggestion above…

Opportunity

| Mairead

2018 2 1

(Welcome to Portugal)

So it’s the week before my workshop in Lisboa and I thought it might be sensible to create some blog posts so I am doing some overtime to cover myself for the duration of the workshop. I have been wondering what to write because I have already written everything that happens (or that comes into my head) each day and posted it in that day’s blog, so there’s nothing left. But then I remembered…

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(Lunch. Isn’t that an adorable box?)

I didn’t blog much last year and I missed it. So before we left this year I decided I would write regularly, definitely weekly. Then I got kinda excited about the idea of writing every day but I didn’t think that would be possible… turns out it was. And now this week I’ll be writing twice a day. I’m doubly excited and doubly worried… but I’ve written previously about my plan to notice my thoughts and that plan doesn’t allow much space for worrying. So here goes…

2018 2

(Make mosaics)

One of the lessons we are learning as we travel is that when you see an opportunity that you want, you really need to go for it. Right when you see it. Don’t wait. Although there’s every reason to believe it will come around again… after a little discomfort. When we see a public toilet as we have a coffee or as we visit a tourist attraction, we use it (ok not every single one).

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(Fill up your gas bottle when ever you get a chance)

If we arrive at an aire and there’s water we top up and we empty our old water. If it’s possible to empty the toilet cassette, we empty it… usually. Last week we didn’t, I might have been distracted. We were in the grand aire by the flooding river. They had all the services but as we were leaving it started to rain, heavily… sure we’re on our way to a campsite, all campsites have cassette empty services. Turns out not all campsites have cassette empty services. There was a little discomfort. I won’t go into it but we will not be making that mistake again….

2018 1

(Travel to warmer countries!)

Going for opportunities is how we came to be living this way, travelling for months each year. It seemed to be possible so we went for it. Going for it can be harder than it seems. It might seem crazy but I find it difficult to leave home and travel. I haven’t shared that truth with many people. It seems ungrateful and a little insane, when so many people wish they could do this and can’t and I can. Or is that normal?

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(Walk in the leaves)

I suppose I’m saying opportunities come with down sides, like the rain falling as you empty your cassette or having to say goodbye to your sister when she’s only just got home. But opportunities also come with up sides and unless you go for it you’ll never know what those up sides are.

From virtual me, (while real me is having a great time at the workshop!) Mairead.

Only one more sleep

| Mairead

2018 1

(View over the rooftops, Ericeira)

We’re in Lisboa, at a different campsite. I’m almost set to participate in the workshop tomorrow and, the sun is shining! We did all the washing in Ericeira and now Ruby is as squeaky clean as the clothes. I’ve packed my bags with all the required supplies and set out what I will wear. I have my bus timetable, my travel card and my phone is charged. It’s like a first day at school. I’d ask Denis to take a picture of me on my way but it’ll be a bit too early. Might try a selfie…

2018 2

(More narrow roads)

This experience has reminded me that I can only prepare so much, I have to turn up and trust that I will be flexible enough to cope with whatever crops up. Stuff happens… maybe the bus will be late, maybe I’ll miss the stop to get off, maybe there’ll be a strike, maybe I’ll get lost. I was wondering, isn’t this a kind of creativity?

2018 3

(Lace made of marble)

I know when I make something, especially in mixed media, I have no idea what it’s going to be when it’s finished. I also don’t know how to finish it when I’m half way through it. I call it Not There Yet, it’s between the Hopeful Beginning and Triumphant Finished where I think, this isn’t going to work, no it’s not any good, oh no it’s actually terrible! When I let go and flow from Not Working Yet to Breathlessly Waiting and hang out there a little while… I’ll soon hear myself saying, oh hang on I see it now!

2018 20

(This is the library at Palace of Mafra. They have over 30,000 books!)

Not Working Yet is a scary place, I don’t like it much. I love Hopeful Beginning, Breathlessly Waiting and Triumphant Finished. Maybe Not Working Yet knows I don’t like it… What if I made friends with Not Working Yet? In the situation of preparing for tomorrow’s journey to Lisboa, I haven’t practiced a trial run of the public transport route from this campsite. Not Working Yet is: I don’t know what the bus stop will look like, I don’t know where to go when I get off the bus, I don’t know where to go when I get off the metro. I will be depending on the kindness of strangers and my google map app. Actually, when I think of it that way, I am a bit excited, because this country is full of kind strangers.

Only one more sleep, Mairead.

The view is blue…

| Mairead

2018 7

(The view from the bedroom, blue sea, blue sky, blue bunting)

Every stitch of clothing had been washed and the sun came out so we went for a walk down town. When we arrived yesterday it was too wet to venture very far, we just got the groceries and did a load of washing. Going over and back to the machines I passed our view looking out to sea but it was too misty to see anything.

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(See the sea in the gap?)

It was a great surprise this morning when the mist lifted and we could see our view. We are on the edge of the town of Ericeira. We had never heard of it… possibly because we’re not surfers… yet.

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(The fishing boats on the land and the little dots in the sea are surfers, the ones in the sky are seagulls)

Our walk took us downhill all the way to the sea and the fishing port. I’m glad we were walking because these streets are the narrowest yet. There were surfers in the water and fishing boats on the shore and people gathered in groups talking and laughing and drinking coffee and eating amazing looking pastries.

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(Close up of a flying surfer)

The rain held off and the waves entertained the watchers and the surfers. Heading home was, as you’d expect, uphill all the way but the photo opportunities gave us an excuse to stop and catch our breath which was fortunate.

2018 6

(I liked the name on this building – Ericeira Business Factory)

We’ll be heading to Lisboa tomorrow morning but first we’ll be washing the van and pumping the tyres and filling up with diesel and water (including the windscreen washer) and groceries. We’ll be sorting out the other waters too. It looks like the weather might be changing for the better here so that’d be nice.

I’m ready to tidy away the umbrella and rain coats, Mairead.

We’re in Clover

| Mairead

2018 7

(The neighbours)

We stayed in Mafra again last night but this time at the aire beside the Palace. We didn’t notice it on the way in but here it is and here we are. As we hadn’t had electricity for two days and the drive from Mafra suburb to the Palace wasn’t enough to charge the battery we were running dangerously low on power.

2018 6

(Beautiful sky over Mafra)

When I got back from visiting the palace I uploaded photos with only 20% battery and by the time I sent the blog post to WordPress I had only 6%. There are some electrical connections at this aire but they were all in use. We talked to the couple next to us from Italy (getting away from the snow there…) who said they were leaving today so if we could just hobble through overnight then we could use theirs and we’d be in clover.

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(Window at the Palace)

Ten minutes later the battery alarm light went off… that never happened before. Unplug everything. There was only the wifi router so I unplugged it, soon we would have no wifi…. how would we know what the weather was like…? We made plans for the move in the morning but there were very few aires within 50km of Lisbon with electricity. Time for a walk.

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(I love the windows at the Palace)

And that’s when we noticed the empty space. All the camper van spaces had been taken except one which we took when we arrived and when I got back from the Palace they were still occupied. But now a few hours later there was one… and it was beside an electricity connection!

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(The view of Mafra from the King’s balcony at the Palace)

We looked at each other and then ran back to the van (who am I kidding, we walked back to the van) and even faster than the night of the flooding river we had moved to the spot with the electricity. We have electricity! The electricity is free! We plugged in the wifi and the laptops and went for our walk. The rain stopped.

We really are in clover, Mairead.