County Cork - Part 2, A portrait of Kinsale

Kinsale is a pretty little Irish town in the south of County Cork. It had two defensive forts to protect the bay - Charles Fort and James Fort. The town is currently famous for fishing and golfing. I didn't do either activity; however, I did see people fishing off the side of the bridge and I walked around the Old Head which is where there is a stunning world-class golf course. 

Entrance to the very posh golf course. We weren't allowed in to walk around, so we settled for a walk around the bluffs instead.

The area around the Old Head of Kinsale is a gorgeous example of the Irish countryside, with old ruins peppering the landscape. My cousin Eibhlis and I walked around the bluffs before heading down to Garrettstown Beach where she used to spend her childhood summers. I got to enjoy one of my favourite pastimes - skipping stones in the waves.

 My cousin having a rest on the bluffs.

 

Bluff-side selfie. I was careful to mind the cliff! If you look closely at my right eye, you can see the black eye I sustained from my fall in Soho last Saturday.

After walking around in the countryside & the beach, we drove back into the town for lunch at the famous (to Ireland) seafood restaurant "Fishy Fishy."  The restaurant is owned and run by a tv celebrity chef called Martin Shanahan. Honestly, it was the most amazing seafood meal I've ever eaten. Baked Hake (a whitefish) with creamed spinach risotto and a milk pico de gallo "salsa." A side salad, good Irish brown bread, and a crisp glass of white wine completed the meal. I looked over at my cousin and admitted that I was having a food-gasm. So delicious! The restaurant has fun quotes written on chalk outside, this was my favourite:

After lunch, we enjoyed meandering around the quaint windy and narrow streets of the town. Kinsale is my favourite because of its colours, art galleries, and craft markets. It was nice to feast with my eyes...

Views of Kinsale's streets.

My neck's been troubling me for the past few days, so I had a quick Balinese massage to help. Definitely doing my stretches tonight after an Epsom salt bath. I am being good with listening to my body and knowing when I need to slow down. Even if it means not taking in all the sites I'd like to experience (e.g. the last port of call of the Titanic before it met its icy demise).

I treated myself to one skein of yarn from the Vivi Trading Company. I'm a major yarn affectionado and knitter, and I promised myself that I'd only buy yarn on this trip if it was a brand I couldn't source in Canada, and that I had a project in my Ravelry queue to use it up. Here's what I bought:

 

Mmmmm, yarrrrrn! I'm going to knit a spiral lace shawl for myself when I return from my travels. Good thing yarn packs light!

All in all, a nice relaxing day in Kinsale.

Cork - The Rebel County, Part 1

County Cork is the home of my mom. When my brother, sister and I were small, she would take us back to Ireland each summer so that we would know our roots, our cousins, and to give her a chance to reconnect with her friends and family. My first time to Ireland, I was just six months old. I continued to go to Ireland each year until I turned 13. Then I went back 13 years later and wow, what a difference. Ireland's years as an economic force (known as the Celtic Tiger) really showed. So much development around the country, and a more cosmopolitan population base. It's been eight years since I've been back, and with the global economy on the downturn, Ireland's reputation as the tiger softened. 

I wanted to come back to visit my family, and in particular, my cousin Eibhlis (points if you can pronounce her name) whom I've been corresponding via letters since we were both 10 years old. Our correspondence has been going strong for over 20 years now! I'm fairly certain that both of us still have all our letters over the years, if scattered about in many boxes around our respective homes. Eibhlis offered to put me up for about a week and to take me around Cork to see the sites. I think she enjoyed playing tourist in her own city, as we did things she's never done before :)

Day one we went into Cork city for lunch and to the English Market. We had a very tasty meal in a creperie that is new to the city. Their savoury crepes are made with buckwheat and are very filling. Highly recommended if you're in Cork and love crepes (I know I do!)

Walking around the streets of Cork is a pleasure. It was bustling for a Monday afternoon. You can see the spires of Saint Finbar's (local patron saint) from almost anywhere.

After some errands, we trudged up the hill to St Ann's Anglican Church in Shandon, where you can play the bells and get a fantastic view of a Cork below. The church gives you protective earmuffs as the bells are so loud when climbing up to the viewing deck. I got to play "When the Saints Go Marching In" and Eibhlis played "Freire Jacques." We were complimented on our playing by other visitors, and Eibhlis looked over at me slyly and reminded me that the whole city could hear us play! 

 

 

Here is the church bell tower, and below I'm playing the bells for all of Cork to hear.

After playing the bells, we headed to the Cork City Gaol (or jail). This gaol was in operation in the 19th century until it closed in 1923. The gaol was for petty criminals who's crimes ranged from drunkeness in public to fraud. Often, poor folk would try to land themselves in this gaol because they were guaranteed to have a roof over their heads, two meals a day, and access to a doctor. Being imprisioned was preferable to life on the streets during the famine years. The gaol still has all the records from when it was in operation, so the guided tour was fascinating - real stories of real people. A few tales stand out: a woman who had been incarcerated 57 times for public drunkeness and beating her children was sentenced to hard labour of breaking rocks for 8 hours a day with no break; the 8 year old pickpocket who was flogged so hard so that his scars would serve as a reminder not to steal (he was only in the prison once thank goodness); and of course, the Irish Republican Nationals from the war of independence (1916 - 1923) as the gaol (and the country) was run by the English. 

One funny note of interest, the Govenor of the prison did not want to live inside the prison like the rest of the guards and their families, so he had a tunnel built under the prison and across to where his house was. If any senior justice officials would be seen approaching the prison, he would scurry through the tunnel back inside the prison. Eventually an inspector discovered the tunnel, and ordered it to be collapsed. To date, it is the only prison tunnel in the world not built by a convict trying to escape! 

Here is a sketch done by one of the Irish Republicans on the wall of a cell. There are names and ranks of the IRA written and scratched into the walls of the cells. The Republicans were all released in 1923 and the gaol was closed. This gaol is fascinating place and well worth the visit!

London - a whirlwind tour

Wow, the past few days have been intense but fun. It's been about eight years since I was last in London (summer of 2006). This time I had someone waiting for me, someone to see the sites with a local's eye, and with colourful stories not mentioned on placards around the museums. 

My friend Gavin and I have been pen pals for the past few years. We "met" on a knitting forum for folks looking for pen pals. I know that knitting and letter-writing sounds terribly old fashioned in this day and age of wireless technology, but there's something inherently satisfying and enjoyable about these two crafts. Receiving a letter in the mail from a friend brings me great joy. I assume that Gavin (and likely my two other pen pals) feel the same way. To have someone to take the time to pen you a letter rather than a soulless email, well...the two simply don't compare. I had never met Gavin in the flesh and I was wondering if we would get on in real life. I needn't have been nervous though, we got along like a house on fire. I think that our established rapport through writing and similar interests/lifestyles made the transition into face-to-face friends so smooth. 

Day one in London mostly consisted of finding my feet and settling into the hostel. I unfortunately had terrible insomnia the night before my transatlantic flight, and I only had about two hours sleep on the plane (I had three seats to myself!) Thus, I was a walking zombie that first day. Gavin took me to an adorable bohemian cafe near King's Cross that also sold yarn. I can't remember the name of the place, but it had been a sauna, a sex shop, and now a cute cafe. London spaces are constantly being reinvented (unlike Vancouver, where old buildings are torn down for new ones).  I went to his flat in Bloomsbury and just hung out with him and his two dogs, Buddy and Coco. Unfortunately, Buddy bit me (a cantankerous old pup who gets nervous if his owner is not visible). My hand is still healing but I don't begrudge Buddy. We took the pups out for a walk when suddenly the heavens opened and poured huge, fat raindrops. Within minutes our jeans were soaked through up to our knees. We gave up on our walk. I checked into the excellent YHA St Pancras hostel before heading out for dinner. Honestly, I don't remember anything else from that day. The fatigue took over and I crashed into my bunk at 11pm.

Day two I woke up no longer jet lagged, and we started our day at King's Cross so that I could get my geek on at Platform 9 3/4 (from Harry Potter of course). I refused to pay the £9.50 to have my photo taken with a partial trolley & Hedwig (see google image search to get an idea of what was on offer), but I did go to the gift shop where I got to hold the Elder Wand, and I bought a fridge magnet depicting a ticket for the Hogwart's Express. I was in nerd heaven.

Our next stop was the Victoria & Albert museum (or the V & A as most Londoners call it). For those of you who've never been to this museum, it is a gem both in terms of Victorian architecture and in its cultural collections. We focused on an exhibit called "Disobient Objects" and also the British collections from 1500 CE onwards. Disobient Objects was all about political protest art in a variety of media. There were lifesized paper mâché puppets, clever political placards, a truck covered entirely in tile mosaics (the Tiki Love Truck), rice sacks with slogans, and probably the most moving/sad - an embroidered handkerchief of a mother's grief over the disappearance of her 18 year old son by the Mexican authorities/cartels/gangs (it was unclear). The British collections are extensive - there is furniture, clothing, art, machinery, and replications of entire rooms.  At one spot, you can try on a hoop skirt and a corset to get a feel for the fashion of the 1800's. As a lover of costumes, I had to try them on. The other highlight for me of the V & A was the famous statue of the Three Graces. Beautiful.

After the V & A we made our way over Millenum Bridge to the south bank of the Thames River to the Tate Modern where we took in Matisse's Cut-Outs. Towards the end of his life, Matisse experimented with painting paper and cutting it into geometric and organic shapes. Originally he used the technique to plan out still life paintings, but the form took on a life of its own. My favourite pieces were Blue Nude II which is well known, and the Christmas stained glass piece. Being a member of most of London's museums, Gavin took me up to the members lounge to take in the view of St Paul's Cathedral.

Day three we went to Greenwich by boat. We were blessed with a sunny, if windy, day. Greenwich is beautiful and has a completely different feel to the rest of London. It has huge green spaces, a more relaxed vibe, and also some fascinating historical and geographical sites. I stood on the Prime Meridian (0 degrees longitude) and both Gavin & I synchronized the watches we had just bought to the Sheppard Gate 24 hour clock, by which Greenwich mean time is set. We both laughed at having bought watches in Greenwich but it seemed only fitting :)  

We walked over the hill and sat for awhile on the Black Heath and cloud/kite watched for awhile. The Black Heath is reportatedly where the bodies of those Londoners who died of the bubonic plague are buried. There are no buildings, just grass as far as the eye can see. Rumour has it that if the Heath is dug up for development purposes that the plague will come out and cause it's terrible havoc again. Given that these bodies have been dead for over 400+ years, I'm skeptical of this claim. Fascinating nonetheless. We popped in briefly to the National Maritime museum where I got absorbed in an exhibition concerning the quest for the Northwest Passage (another sad story there).  

 

After Greenwich, we took the Thames skipper back to the London Eye (which I didn't bother going on) and explored the gayiety of London's South Bank. Had some very tasty tacos before heading up into the Royal Festival Hall's member only lounge to enjoy a bottle of Shiraz while watching the sunset over London. This hall has an elevator that sings. If you are going up, the voices go up in pitch and vice versa for going down. We took a silly video of it, but it's too hard to post here. We stumbled into a Tunnel of Love interactive art exhibit that we had fun in. We played twister, wrote a "confession" and got to have our picture taken in a silly photo booth. It was fun. 

I had told Gavin previously that I wanted to walk around Soho, partially for the gay culture but also for the trendiness of the area. Unfortunately, it was in Soho that I had an accident. I was walking along, trying to keep up with Gavin's quick pace when I missed a short curb and went straight down on my face, banging my head against my glasses and the pavement. Blood was pouring down the right side of my face and my glasses were broken. Great, not two weeks into my trip and my brand new prescription glasses broken. Head wounds bleed a lot. There was blood on my dress, my coat, and all over my glasses. I did have a bit of a breakdown at that point. But Gavin was great and talked me down from my panic and lead me back to the hostel to get cleaned up and to ice the cut. I managed to glue my glasses back together but I'm nervous about their structural integrity. I've asked my subletee to send my backup glasses to me in Ireland. Fingers crossed that my glued pair hold up for now...

Day four was my last in London. I had great intentions to go to the Tower Bridge to do the tour inside as a fellow hostel roommate had given me a ticket. However, after banging my head, I decided to give it a miss. I checked out of the hostel and had a relaxing morning with Gavin in a cafe before heading out to visit the Foundling Museum. This museum was very close to my heart as I'm adopted. A lovely little museum detailing the first Foundling Hospital for impoverished women to leave their children to be fostered or adopted out. The cafe and the Handel artifacts and listening salon are not to be missed.

 

After the museum, I retrieved my luggage from the hostel and Gavin took me to Liverpool St station to catch the train to the airport. I'll miss you my friend, but we'll always have Paris ;) 

Welcome to the Wild West

It's been almost a week since I packed up my life in Vancouver to begin my three months of travel. The first leg of my journey has been through some of the most beautiful parts of the country, and I gotta say, Canada is a gorgeous place. I feel so privileged to live here.

I played the navigator for this road trip but I did do some driving (over 300 km in one day!)  My friend Carsen and I set out from Vancouver around 1pm last Tuesday, August 5 with the goal of making Cache Creek by dinnertime. We made our goal and drove a bit further to Juniper Beach  provincial campground. The site was so warm, windy, and sandwiched between two rail lines. This campground is in the rain shadow of the interior where prickly pear and rattlesnakes live. It feels like being in Nevada actually.

Unfortunately for us, the trains were only about 100 feet from our tent and ran all night. So after a noisy sleep, we packed up after a  quick breakfast and confirmed on the map our next destination goal: Mount Robson. This was the day I did the most driving.

Mount Robson is stunning. At over 4000 m, it's the highest mountain in the Canadian Rockies. The visitor's center staff were friendly and helpful. They pointed us across the road to the Robson Meadows provincial campground. The campground is unique in that it is a giant spiral. We scored ourselves a good spot and then proceeded on our short hike. The hike followed a trail to a small waterfall (Overlander Falls) and a big arching path back to our campsite. The hike took about 2 hours all told.

Next day we packed up and (Thursday) drove into Jasper national park and into the town of Jasper proper. The town is cute with historical notices posted about. It's also incredibly touristy. Lots of people from all over come to Jasper and to see the icefields. The last time I was in Jasper, I was six years old. It was nice to go back as an adult because I don't remember much from when I was six.

After some food and some shopping, it started raining, so back in the truck we went and drove straight to Pocahontas camping area, with one detour/stopping point - goats. Wild mountain goats were perched high on a bluff overlooking the Yellowhead Hwy (16). We had to stop and take photos, and we certainly weren't the only ones.

Pocahontas campground was somewhat of a disappointment after Robson Meadows. There was no attendant on site, the woodpile was uncovered (and the wood wet). The operator on the phone could only take payment for the campsite but not the wood.... And worst of all, it poured rain in the morning and we had to pack everything up wet. The only redeeming feature was the campground's proximity to the Miette Hotsprings (17 km drive up a windy mountain road). The Hotsprings are similar to Harrison in that there is a resort and also a public "pool" to enjoy the warm waters. The views are spectacular. We went at 9pm and stayed just over an hour. It was also our first opportunity to shower, which we enjoyed after the dirt and woodsmoke from camping.

Friday morning we headed out in the pouring rain and spent about two hours eating and playing boardgames in the Smitty's dinner in Hinton, Alberta. We had a good breakfast as we couldn't make breakfast in a downpour and got gas, which we badly needed. It rained all Friday as we drove to Winfield to visit my birth-mom and family out on their farm.

I've been helping out with chores on the farm... but mostly I've been looking after my four year old nephew, which has been a joy, if a bit tiring. I'm writing this blog post on my phone in a hayfield right now. The loudest thing is the wind blowing and the flies buzzing around. The skies are so clear, I've been enjoying looking up at the supermoon the past few days.

It's hard to believe that tomorrow we drive back to Calgary and I'll be prepping to leave Wednesday evening to cross the pond to England and Ireland. It feels surreal that it's happening at all. And yet here I am, suitcase packed and tickets lined up. Wish me luck on the next part of my journey... I've been feeling some trepidation around it. But I know that once I'm there, I'll be able to plug in with my new surroundings. I'm glad I took this road trip first, it's given me a chance to get my bearings and also decompress after a very stressful month.

Onwards!

On Safety

The subject of this blog is personal safety. Safety while traveling as a single woman is paramount. I will have no one but myself to ensure that my person and belongings are safe while I'm away. Traveling alone as a woman has some inherent risks - it can make one a target for unwanted advances, theft, sexual assault, and even kidnapping for human trafficking purposes. 

I wanted to make myself aware and prepare myself as best I can for what is out there. I also wanted to ensure that I was being culturally sensitive and so I read extensively about how to dress & behave in Morocco (the country I'm most concerned about when it comes to my personal safety etc). The Government of Canada has created a document called Her Own Way (who makes these titles?!) that "offers a preventive, female-friendly approach to tackling the security, cultural, health, and social concerns of women travellers." Honestly, its some of the most depressing reading I've ever had to do. But its also smart to be aware (Constant Vigilance will be my motto - ever the Harry Potter fan that I am).

One of the most useful pieces of information from this booklet was learning about the Registration of Canadians Abroad service. I had no idea that such a thing even existed! Its "a free service offered by Foreign Affairs Canada that keeps you connected to Canada in case of an emergency abroad, such as an earthquake or civil unrest, or an emergency at home." So I signed up of course, and gave all the dates and locations (to the best of my ability) where I will be and when I'm returning back to my native soil. 

The other thing I had to do was go out and buy myself a wedding ring. So the other day I did just that, and now I'm officially married to myself. Wearing a wedding ring while traveling as a single woman can protect one from unwanted attention from lecherous men, and was recommended both by the Her Own Way booklet and also by one of my closest friends. Its strange to have to have to do this, but if it keeps me a bit safer, then its worth it.

Rorschach ring photography 

I also have emailed my flight itineraries and made copies of my important documents to give to my mom. I have travel insurance. I have a flashlight and a loud whistle. I have made the decision to try and update this blog once or twice a week - partially to share with all of you my adventures, but also as a way of checking in.

I look forward to the day that the world is a safer place for women - not just those of us who travel. We women deserve to be held in high esteem, respect, and be revered for our life-giving abilities. Until then, be safe and engage the motto of Constant Vigilance.

Get crackin' ! I mean packing!!

Sometimes I seem to need a bit of a time pressure to get stuff done. I leave Vancouver in a few days and I have yet to pack my luggage. But I'm not actually too concerned because I have done prep regarding buying all my toiletries and required ergonomic items (see previous post).

I still need to finish packing up my apartment to make way for my sublet person though. She's been very gracious and understanding that I'll need to leave personal items in my space because the thought of trying to move everything into storage this weekend is just plain overwhelming!

I have some tools to help me pack though. I found this comprehensive packing list to help me pack my luggage. I'll have my own list to supplement this however, as I have special needs. My goal is to keep my luggage to 20Kg maximum. Anything over that weight means that I'm going to pay through the nose on flights, especially with the notoriously cheap airline Ryan Air - which I'll be flying with on 2 separate occasions at least. I also bought myself a small electronic luggage scale, so that I can weigh my bag before I go, and ensure that I don't get dinged with insane luggage weight fees.

I still need to buy a few more items but I'm looking good with regards to personal effects and clothing. Some of my friends who have traveled around Europe have suggested that I take 1 item of each type of clothing (underwear and socks excepted). But I know myself. I will want 2-3 t-shirts rather than 1. I've also been coached that I can always buy stuff overseas and then ditch it there before I leave. To me this seems wasteful. I will be buying some clothes for sure while I'm away (I do love me some fashion), but I'm going to do my best to use what I already have here.

What it takes

The past few weeks have been really intense on all fronts - work, finding a sublet (success!), and running all the errands to get ready for my trip. I've alluded in earlier posts about having chronic pain and how it interacts with my life. I'd like to go a bit deeper into that and also connect it to this trip.

First of all, if I had never been in any car accidents, I may not actually be going on this adventure. The funds for this trip are a direct result of my ICBC payout and investments. Its a messed-up idea that because I suffered pain, disability, and mental/emotional trauma and stress that I was compensated and then could use that money for future care, investments, and yes - this trip. Sometimes I shake my head at it all. (As an aside - there is no amount of money in the world that can make right what was taken from me from those car & bicycle accidents. I may never fully recover all of my functionality, and its likely that some of my conditions will get worse as I age. But I am making peace with it).

Many people see me and have no idea that I have chronic pain. I am in my early 30's, active, and don't need walking aids. My disability is invisible. This has led to people being rude on public transit ("you don't need that seat") and ignorant in other areas of my life. I stand at my desk at work and people used to ask me all the time why I stood. Well, sitting for more than a couple of hours is too painful for me. I got tired of explaining all the time why I was hurting, why I needed the ergonomic things I have, and also why I often need to say "no" to events and parties. Then I heard out about The Spoon Theory and I felt that I had a tool I could share to help others understand what its like to live with chronic pain. Yesterday, this came across my Facebook feed and I love how it demonstrates the Spoon Theory:

Going traveling has been a source of excitement but also stress and frankly - worry about my chronic pain impacting my journey. But fear and worry only stop you, they don't offer solutions on how to move through obstacles and find a way forward. So I've created a "kit" of sorts to keep me going while I'm out there in the wide world. Here's what it looks like:

Clockwise from top left:

• Montrail Mountain Masochist walking/trail shoes (love the name!)
• Magnesium Glycinate - which is great for sore muscles
• Cervical foam neck pillow
• 1.5 feet of dowling for rolling out feet and legs
• Pain medications - topical and internal
• Montrail walking sandals
• "Yoga to Go" - cards with postures to remind me to stretch
• Tennis ball for trigger-point therapy (back, hips, feet)
• Thera-band to strengthen arm and back muscles
• Joy-a-Toes toe separators (these actually really have helped my foot fatigue and pain)
• Inflatable horseshoe neck pillow
• "Inflatable Luxury" (silliest name ever for a product!) but looks promising as a better way to protect my neck while I'm on a train or plane or bus. 
• Foam knee pillow for sleeping (I tend to be a side sleeper)
• 4 wheel spinner luggage (not shown) so that I don't have to carry everything on my back
• Belt with armadillo pockets (not shown) and a water bottle caddy so that I can carry items on my hips and not my back.

All of these items are pretty small, light, and can be squished down as necessary. I am hoping that this will be enough ergo stuff to keep me on my feet, moving, and mostly pain-free. 

I've booked aisle seats on my flights so that I can get out of my seat and move around as needed. I'll be booking a first class rail pass for Spain so that I can have more room, more cushy seating, and more comfort. I've highlighted places on my Portugal/Spain map where spa towns are located so that I can have a soak in some hot springs and perhaps a massage to rejuvenate.  I've had both my RMT and my cranial-sacral therapist tell me that they think traveling will actually loosen up some of my stiffness because I'll be outside of my normal routine and not static. I'll be assessing during my trip how I'm holding up. Wish me luck!