travel

Swirling currents and calm patches while we’re here.

| Mairead

09 8a

(Part of Grey Abbey)

After the Physic Garden we wandered around Grey Abbey. It’s in ruins now with only a few walls still standing, but there are helpful drawings dotted around to show us what it looked like when it was fully functioning. There is also an interpretative centre to explain how things might have been in the community and in Ireland at that time. It was a very peaceful place with only the four of us… along with the trees, a carpet of grass, birdsong, the headstones…. and possibly some spirits! We wandered from headstone to headstone and from building to building getting a feeling for what was here before us.

9 8c

(Some light refreshment to keep our energy up)

We went to Portaferry for our lunch. Again a very descriptive name… it’s the ferry port. The ferry is a car ferry across the narrowest point of Strangford Lough, where it meets the sea. Strangford Lough isn’t really a lough or lake – it’s open at one end, (it’s more like an estuary) – it’s a sea lough and it’s huge. Freshwater and salt water, from flowing rivers and tidal currents meet here at Portaferry.

9 8e

(The St. Brendan, our boat for the afternoon, with the car ferry in the background)

After our picnic in the sun we went on a boat trip up the lough (it took two hours to go half-way up – that’s how big the lough is) and as our boat passed the point where the freshwater met the tidal water we could see strange water currents surrounding flat calm water pools.

9 8d

(The swirling sea currents in the lough, with the calm water in the foreground)

I thought of where we stood in Grey Abbey, where previously monks walked and worked. Now, they are historic characters and we are here. In the future, we will be the historic characters. Someone will walk where we walked… but today we are here. And like these water currents sometimes we experience calm and sometimes we experience swirling and that’s what keeps happening while we’re here…

Tomorrow, the old fishing village, Mairead.

Princess Affreca and my new hens.

| Mairead

7 8j

(We travelled the peninsula and the lough)

We went to Northern Ireland for the weekend to visit friends (Hi Naomi and Liam!) They were excellent travel guides and packed a lot in – including a picnic. I’ve grabbed a map from Wikipedia to show you where we went. Even though it’s only three hours away from our house I had never been to this part of Ireland and it is truly beautiful. Our friends live less than thirty minutes from Belfast but we didn’t visit the city… this time.

07 08a

We began Saturday morning in a pottery for a breakfast of scones and coffee! Yes, I know how great! There were plain scones and fruit scones and rhubarb scones and another type of scones, possibly almond, all yummy. It was here I spotted my new hens. Yes I have hens. It was a difficult decision but… I bought a cereal bowl with hens on it and a plate with a cockerel.

7 8i

Then we set off to visit Grey Abbey a Cistercian abbey in the town of Greyabbey. The abbey was founded in 1193 by a princess called Affreca, her father was King of the Isle of Man. She was married to John de Courcy who ruled most of this area at the time. Anyway, she had a rough sea crossing from the Isle of Man and set up the abbey in thanks for a safe landing. On the way in we met Stephen, the guide to the Physic Garden, so he gave us a quick tour. I thought this might be something to do with mind reading but no… it’s to do with healing.

7 8b

There were lots of gardens at the abbey which were mainly tended to by the lay monks. As well as orchards and kitchen gardens there would have been the physic or medicinal garden. Stephen was very informative and funny and I now recognise some herbs from my own garden that I thought were weeds! By the way, if your roses are bothered by green-fly, then Calendula (also good for liver problems, insect and snake bites) attracts hoverfly who in turn eat green-fly. If you become overrun with hoverfly then let me know and I can give you Stephens’s number. After the garden we had a look at the abbey and the interpretative center.

7 8k

(Calendula, English Marigold, loved by hoverflies)

More from Grey Abbey tomorrow, Mairead.

Bletchley Park… it’s a secret.

| Mairead

22 7b

(The big house)

We’re in Bletchley Park (near Milton Keynes) the home of World War II code breakers and the birthplace of digital computers. Ciara and I are sitting in Hut 4, having lunch and resting after a guided tour. Denis is on his second tour… of the Computing Museum section. Bletchley is a very interesting place. Way back in 1937 the big house and about 500 acres went up for sale when the owners died. The estate was divided into lots and a local builder bought fifty acres along with the big house –  he wanted to knock the house and put up a housing estate.

22 7g

(Hut 1.. with part of its protective wall)

The secret service at the time were watching Hitler and considered war a likely possibility. They needed to be in a position to do secret things and not be noticed and Bletchley Park offered the perfect solution. It was forty miles from London so protected by distance. It was close to a railway station. It was halfway between Oxford and Cambridge – where the smart puzzle solvers were to be found. And I can’t remember why but it was in the perfect location for telephone communication, and people who were smart communication device builders (telephone engineers.) A compulsory purchase order meant that there’s no housing estate and the big house still stands.

22 7c

(An Enigma machine)

So the secret stuff began… when the British found a German coding machine called the Enigma. Also, three Polish secret service officers, realising they would soon be invaded by Germany, gave information they had uncovered about a very similar coding machine to the British and French governments. With that information smart puzzle solver Alan Turing took four months to break the puzzle of the Enigma and uncover how it worked. But that was just the first step….. they had to build a machine (with more help from the Polish secret service) that would turn the coded messages into German language messages and then into English. This was in 1940 and for most of the rest of the war all messages sent from the German military were coded using the Enigma, thinking they were secret. It gave the British military a big advantage.

22 7f

(The lake with the big house in the background)

By the end of the war there were 8,000 people working at Bletchley Park. Everyone who worked here signed the official secrets act and had to keep the secret of Bletchley and they did. Stephen, our guide told a story of a recent woman visitor whose mother had worked in the Japanese message-breaking hut. The woman told him that she had only recently discovered that her mother worked for the secret service and spoke fluent Japanese. Today Bletchley is run by enthusiasts and volunteers who maintain the grounds, the house and the huts, they also run the tours and make the sandwiches.

Take the first step, it’ll give you a big advantage, Mairead.

Ring, ring… River river… Lies and good manners.

| Mairead

22 7d

(Bath Cathedral)

We’ve moved into England, the journey that should have taken an hour and a half took four hours. There was an accident, traffic got backed up and so we were stationary for two hours. There was nowhere to go as we were on a motorway and when we took the next exit there was almost stand still traffic there too. It could have been worse, the car next to us had steam billowing out through the bonnet and water gushing onto the road. I can’t imagine how long she had to wait for a tow-truck and even when it did get there, where would it go?

22 7i

(Hot air balloons over Bath)

All this meant that we arrived in Bath just in time for dinner. We had booked an early table at a vegetarian restaurant, so we could take the Bizarre Bath Tour. It’s a comedy tour and the guide went to great lengths at the outset to ensure we understood that there would be no history. The tour consists of about twenty of us following him around the Bath streets while he told lies or performed some magic! There was the escapologist rabbit (stuffed) and the key that opens up a prize of £300 (we lost, he won) and the volunteer’s ring that accidentally floats up into the Bath night sky attached to a helium balloon. I thought it was really funny…  I’m sure our travel insurance will cover a new engagement ring.

22 7j

(Our guide about to perform the £300 trick)

On Saturday we took a bus tour and it turns out Bath is where English “good manners” began. Seemingly a gambler, called Richard Nash, got the job of Bath’s entertainment manager (it was called Master of Ceremonies then…) in the early 1700’s (the previous manager lost the job when he was shot in a duel). Nash promoted Bath as a place where you could come for the spa waters and the dancing and regardless of your social class you would be comfortable in the knowledge that the other classes knew their place….

22 7k

(Seen in the Jane Austin Museum… manners?)

I also learned that the river running through Bath, the Avon, is not the same as the one in Stratford-upon-Avon. Turns out there are lots of rivers called Avon in England and there’s a really good reason. The Romans when they arrived, pointed to the river and asked “What’s that called?” and the natives said “Avon.” The Romans assumed that was the name of the river, but Avon was the word for river, any river. So the river Avon is really the river River.

Don’t make assumptions, Mairead.

Hens are great teachers… listen to a hen today.

| Mairead

 

(The menu)

It’s very early in the morning as I write from our hotel in Swansea. I seem to have jet lag without crossing a time zone, probably the traffic noises, the pillow and the light peeping in around the curtain. We had dinner last night at an American Italian chain called Frankie and Benny’s. There were old black and white pictures all over the walls and on the menu of the original Frankie and Benny, who will be turning in their graves if they ever find out. It was an imitation of an Italian run American diner.

 

(The deals)

Our server worked hard entertaining us like an American server would and I was bothered when I realised we had no change to tip him. I left some euro. In this country the euro is fake money and next to useless, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? Except I was thinking, “I have to give him a tip.”

(Hello real hen)

All this reminded me of my hair and the hens (most things remind me of the hens :)) How we humans imitate something (or someone) we think is great when all along there’s something great right under our hat. Sometimes we do the imitation so well we don’t even realise we’re doing it. We straighten our hair, we curl our hair, we comb-over our hair, we dress in a certain way, we act in a certain way, we step into a certain role and we pretend it’s us… We’re fooling no one and anyway the real us might just be a little more attractive.

(Hens get tired too and need to rest a leg)

The hens walk their own funny walk. They hug no one they don’t want to hug. They go to bed when they want to and they ignore all unwanted interaction. I’m on the hunt this morning for a hen-experience! An ordinary real Welsh cafe for my breakfast. One where my table might be a bit sticky to touch, might not be the same colour as all the rest, may even have a wonky leg… but the person serving me is real… and possibly a little cranky. And I’ll be paying attention to what it is I find attractive about that!

Be your own cranky self, Mairead.

 

Don’t be scribbling over your signature with a bob.

| Mairead

(Wakey, wakey it’s 5am)

We’re on a ship again. This morning (Thursday) I’m sitting in the lounge of the ferry going from Rosslare Harbour (Ireland) to Fishguard (Wales). We’re off to see the daughter again. We’re also going back to beautiful Bath and to revisit Bletchley Park – the location of the code breakers from World War II and the birthplace of computing. This time we’re taking the car so it’s a bit different.

(Sunshine at 10am)

In preparation for the trip I went to the hairdressers yesterday afternoon. My hair is quite well-behaved when a professional pulls it into submission and can remain in place for a few days so I had booked a wash and blow-dry. When I arrived there was a woman sitting at the desk, I told her my name and the time of my appointment and she sent me over to the sofa. Although I had been in this salon previously I didn’t have a regular stylist and was willing to accept whoever was available. Within moments the same woman from the desk guided me to the sinks and proceeded to wash my hair.

(Oooo, there’s a craft shop here!)

I had assumed she was the receptionist… could she be my stylist? No clue. As I don’t enjoy the small talk I usually like to close my eyes and drift off while I’m getting my hair coiffed so I proceeded to settle into a little snooze. But, it was not to be. My hair was hardly wet when she said, “your hair is quite fine but very thick”. At a bit of a disadvantage in my laid back position and not knowing exactly what that meant or if it was good or bad, I said, “yes…” This was the first clue that she might be my stylist or someone very interested in my hair….. Well, although I do like the snoozing bit I prefer the bit where they talk to me about my hair (yes, I am that vain.) Not necessarily the… your hair is great  talking but the… did you know there’s a kink in your hair? and have you ever tried it this way? talking. Well, I had a treat in store.

(Checking out the survival options)

Her name was Esther and she was very interested in my hair! “Have you always had it in a bob?“,”Oh yes, for at least ten years, maybe more (lots more) it suits my face.” and she says “No it doesn’t!” Picture the scene me dripping wet hair sitting in front of a mirror looking up at Esther, who’s standing over me with a scissors in her hand. I let out one of those loud guffaws and laughed for a good thirty seconds. Esther joined in for a bit and then told me exactly what the bob was doing for me….. well it wasn’t doing anything for me in her opinion, except covering my face. She wondered if I was still wearing clothes from ten years ago, I said no (although I do have a very comfortable red cardigan…) She wondered if the bob was easy to manage, I said no, in fact it that’s why I came today. She said she couldn’t do it. “I’ve been watching your hair since you came in and I could hardly hold myself back.”  That sounds bad. “Is it that bad?“, “Yes.” Oh.

(Lunch)

I laughed. I had been at a workshop that morning pondering the concept of shame and had learned that connection with others at the precise moment you want to sink into shame,  kills the shame. So I looked at Esther and decided she was more friend than foe and Esther, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere proceeded to tell me what she wanted to do. She spoke about the natural flow of my hair, how it was neither straight nor curly but had a kink. “Yes Esther, I know that kink – it’s the bane of my life, that’s the thing that makes it impossible to get the bob right.” But Esther said no, the kink was my hair’s signature and I had been scribbling over it with a bob for long enough. I want to let your hair flow. (Well she didn’t say those exact words but that’s what she meant.) “So, are you up for it?”

Let your life flow, Mairead.

Wherever I go, there I am.

| Mairead

16 7a

(The girls up-close)

I drove to the local town this morning. Well it had been a while since’s my last coffee shop and I thought I’d better keep up the habit. Also, there might be an opportunity to talk to someone…. There was. I met a Spanish woman. She was from the north-west of Spain and was living in Ireland. As you can imagine I wondered how she was coping with the weather, so I asked. It rains as much in her part of Spain as it does in Ireland but it’s the cold wind she doesn’t like. Then I got talking to two lovely women in the second-hand bookshop. For little or nothing I got an English school book and two hardback craft books.

16 7b

(Another egg!)

Afterwards I came home and let the hens out. They were very happy to see me and stayed close so I could take a picture. I’m going to miss them when I leave. I’m also going to miss walking out in the garden and being surrounded by trees with only the sounds of the stream and the wild birds. That always calms me and it doesn’t seem to matter if its raining. I’ve been reading another book this week called The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, where the author spends a year researching how she can become happier. She’s concerned she doesn’t appreciate what she has and gets quite short-tempered with her husband and her children. In the book for each month she choses a theme and then sets herself several tasks. For example, in January the theme is Boost Energy and one of the tasks is Go to sleep earlier; May’s theme is Be Serious about Play and one of the tasks, Find more fun. 

16 7d

(The first ripe tomato in the greenhouse)

Anyway, I haven’t finished reading yet but it’s quite an entertaining book and I’m sure I’ll refer to it again (she has a blog at http://www.happiness-project.com). In everything we read (or hear or see) our own message jumps out at us and here in the wilderness I have been in the perfect place to notice a message for me. I thought living in the middle of nowhere on my own would be very different to living in a town with my family. For starters I thought I’d get lots done, I thought there would be fewer distractions (turns out I adore distractions and create them when there’s none!) Of course, it is a very different experience, on the outside, just not on the inside. Wherever I go I bring my habits and patterns with me and a new location doesn’t change that.

16 7e

(A very graceful flower)

The message I got (so far) from The Happiness Project? It doesn’t matter where you are you can be happy (or not), you can be productive (or not), you can be distracted (or not) it’s up to you to choose. The location doesn’t choose for you. I also like the quote, from Enjoy now, one of March’s tasks, “The fun part doesn’t come later, now is the fun part.”

I’m back home now, Mairead.

Horas non numero nisi serenas!

| Mairead

1

(A bit of the sundial and fountain. Sorry, I chopped off the pretty parts…)

In the end we went to Powerscourt House and Gardens. The house for lunch and coffee, the gardens for flowers and graves. One of the other choices was Wexford and we picked well because they got an awful lot of rain in Wexford on Wednesday. We got the sun… and then some shade because it was too bright and then some breeze because it was a bit hot and then some sun because it got a little chilly. I suppose we got everything we needed except rain (which we didn’t need anyway).

2

(The Dolphin Pond)

We began our adventure in the gardens and the leaflet told us that this first section, called the Italian Gardens, was designed in the 1840’s by Daniel Robertson and that it took 100 men over twelve years to complete. Well then… seems like all the best gardens take more time than you might think sensible to complete….

6

(One of the gravestones in the pet’s graveyard)

I looked up Daniel Robertson and I read that he went bankrupt in England and afterwards moved his gardening business to Ireland. The gardens at Killruddery, where we went to the food market, were designed by him also. The latin inscription over the sundial in the Italian Garden, says “Horas non numero nisi serenas“, I do not count the hours unless they are tranquil. Because of his previous difficulties (with the bankruptcy) I thought Daniel’s choice of Latin quote might be significant, maybe an insight into how he coped, but for the life of me I couldn’t make sense of it…. if you were tranquil why would you bother counting the hours at all!

5

(The Pepperpot Tower – built for the children of the house. It was modelled on a pepper pot from Lord Powerscourt’s dining table.)

Turns out (thanks Google!) that this latin inscription is on a fountain in Venice also and the word count can be replaced with remember…I do not remember the non-peaceful hours. In other words I put my attention on the times that I have been at peace, when all was well, I carry the peace from my past with me. If Daniel hadn’t found a way to carry the peace with him we might have been walking through fields yesterday.

Nice work, Daniel. Mairead.