Drifting and dreaming

The world blurs slightly and the living planet intensifies it's presence.  Something draws the light and the focus. It enters the ear first, a buzzing maybe or a beating of wings. 

A scattering of dragonflies flutter across my closed eyelids. One of them, so self absorbed, hitches a ride on a floating leaf,

and both of us drift downstream.

Browse the gallery: On the river banks of France here

Poppies, Monet and Moi

Photography is fraught with cliches. You couldn't get through a day without re-creating most of them. Even so, I'm in France, in a field of poppies and I stand awe struck and think, why not? 

I'm guilty as charged when it comes to romanticising the natural world. Even though I don't enhance or photoshop at all. (I'm waiting until at least my seventies before I sit down to master that.) But maybe it's just how I want to focus on the world and what's in front of me? That for me a love of the natural world and the time to enjoy it came later in life and so it all moves me as if I'm experiencing it all for the first time? 

These poppies appear to be bleached out with light and I struggle to adjust to a much lighter palette here. They are moist with dew drops in the early morning. They spread as far as the eye can see and mingle into a swathe of wild Irises in the distance. 

I decide to check up on the Impressionist Artists as I imagine they all indulged in a fair bit of hazy blurry romanticism. Curiously I find that Monet one of my favourites, has used the same set of washed out orangey red and soft mossy green in his painting Poppies near Argenteuil

There are heavenly moments in photography. When everything surrounding it overwhelms the senses. The colours, the scents, the lasting impressions. These feelings live on in the images captured in that moment and can bring me back in an instant to a dewy morning in Le Val de Loire. 



See more photos from France here    

Meandering from river to river in France

This inland path is meandering from river to river, through the Loire, Vienne, Creuse, Dronne, and Charente valleys. While there hasn't been a plan or even a guide book, we have a basic map of snaking blue rivers with their most beautiful banks highlighted in green. The simplicity of this and the element of surprise around every corner has been a lot of fun.

The landscape and the villages change as we go south. From the green oak woods and strong currents of the Loire to the clear deep pools of the Dronne. From a chorus of toads each night to the cries of owls. From small gardens of organic greens to acres of vines as far as the eye can see.

Being here off peak and going inland has allowed us to experience a more quiet and peaceful side of France. (Coming from rural life in Ireland, crowds, big cities and traffic are not my idea of fun!) The back roads, rural villages and foxglove lanes of France have been a revelation. It's the land that Starbucks and the internet forgot, so finding wifi that works here is always a challenge.....

It's slow. There is no rush, no agenda, no destination. For two days we sit on a river bank enthralled by azure blue dragon flies in 30 degree temperatures; we swim in a swirling river pool, have breakfast under an ancient oak tree. Some days we roam deserted village streets, ramparts and flowering castle gardens. On others we pause, eat patisserie and browse French hardware shops (fascinating btw!).

I enjoyed the bit of teasing about posting a photo of myself and the camper van. (You know who you are and you know I don't really like to do this, but OK just this once then!!) It's a converted 5 year old VW Transporter with a pop up roof (our third camper). We had our first one in the 1970's when we drove around Europe busking and making pavement art to fund the trip, but this one is wired and plumbed!! 

While it is tiny compared with the enormous camper vans here, it allows us to travel up and down boreens that those monsters couldn't attempt. To give you some idea, one of the biggest campers we have seen had a sliding door at the back revealing it's very own little smart car for running around when the giant camper got too much!!!

Back on planet river bank these few weeks feel like a deep breath in the middle of the road of life. Or maybe a kind of extended date with Himself? And now I find myself wondering if this escape could go on just a little bit longer..........

The scent of roses in the Loire Valley

We never know exactly where each day will end; camping on a free range duck farm, parked on the bank of a leafy river, lapping up a rose scented village. The Loire Valley has won out over the west coast and it has turned out to be a magical meandering off the beaten track.

We move slowly. No need to eat up miles or get to any particular destination, no clue what lies ahead. Every twist and turn surprises. Today it's the roses.

Of course there are castles to beat the band. But sometimes I find myself with my back to the chateau and my lens trained on the window over the boulangerie or a small side lane of cottages. Picturing who might have tended a mature rose bush and trained it over their doorway? Who planted the window boxes and gardens or lined the walls of village streets with climbers and creepers? Who cared so much, thought so creatively, worked in the heat of the sun for this beauty?

Liberty, equality and fraternity provides a basis for ordinary people to flourish. It doesn't give people any more resources but emphasises the right to belong. The valuing of each citizen makes France a country designed around social space and the importance of community. A place where ordinary people care about the country they share and here in the Loire Valley it means planting roses everywhere.

Along the route there are facilities, opportunities to share the land, understanding and empathy for the traveller. We are crisscrossing old paths used for centuries as pilgrimage routes. You would never be without sustenance or a place to sleep. Perfect for independent travellers. (I won't go on about the French public toilets, to be honest they have improved over the years and at least they have them in every village square. I was tempted to take a photo of each one I visited and rate them, but there's a terrible lack of romance in it? Suffice to say to travel off the grid you have to deal with a variety of basic challenges every day, more about all this anon)

Himself and myself have been mostly at peace with the lack of a plan. This is such a contrast with the previous few months of our lives, where every day was rigidly scheduled. If you are wondering about how it might be to come down after months of overwork and crisis management? It has been ridiculously easy! I suppose the 40 years of being on the road together helps in that......

Working around each other in a tiny camper van (VW Transporter with a pop up roof) is like being on the deck of a small boat. We manoeuvre tasks and re-organise in a space not much bigger than a large double bed. Himself being "6 foot 2 biddly-boo" has had to do more careful adjusting. Elbows, heads and toes are especially vulnerable to being clobbered.

Living in the open air wouldn't suit everyone. (We just swam in a river and later saw a snake slithering upstream!)You won't always come by a shower or a cooling breeze when you need one, and it's a constant number of repetitive tasks that keeps the whole shebang ship shape. 

But if you are up for it, you will find that you are more carefree and present, more aware of the scents of the earth and more at peace in your sleep than in any fancy air-conditioned hotel.





PS I'm having a bit of an issue with uploading photos from la vie sauvage so bear with me if these are a bit wonky!! 

In the company of trees

It's late, the sun is filtering through the forest, pouring deep honey gold onto the path ahead. The quality and colour of light transforms everything. In the clearing a group of wise old trees stand in our path, disturbing the earth as their roots burrow to the surface.

Camping forces you out into nature, back to basics; the smells and sounds. There are three alternatives, wild camping, camp-sites and France Passion a network of farms and producers where you can stay free of charge for a night. We've been experimenting with each. Tonight we are in the yard of a mussel farmer and walking the land. 

Later I'm reading poetry to himself. "I went down to the hazel wood because the fire was in my head, and I cut and peeled a hazel wand and hooked a berry to a thread" (The song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats) This is one of our favourites from years of early poetry study in the Irish education system. We endured a lot about poetry, Irish and religion, but the poetry was more of a gift.......

It was the old trees that reminded me of the poem and tonight somewhere in southern Brittany we are once again savouring "the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun"

The old stones of Southern Brittany

The main driving route to Europe from Ireland is a 20 hour ferry crossing from Rosslare to Roscoff in Brittany. 

Brittany is very like parts of Ireland with a strong celtic tradition and so we Irish often feel at home here. Our family spent many summer holidays in Carnac when our lads were young. From pottering around shallow pools when they were toddlers to the beginnings of the party years as teenagers, I reckon they experienced a rite of passage here. They would be so sad leaving to return home and then one year they didn't want to come any more.

It's full of old stones, ancient stones. Les Alignments in Carnac are rows and rows of standing Menhirs, not fully understood, which seem to exist just to be marvelled at. We re-visited them for old times sake.

A Robin family is hanging out around our camp. They get close enough to eat the soft bread directly from the morning baguette. While charmed by this familiar southern coast we are ready to move on. 

"Inklings" was my word for 2015. So here I am in France with no plan and no destination. It seems a perfect antidote to the "strategic future action planning" of my day job. This road trip will be one day at a time. Our first big decision is whether to go South or to go inland? A hunch says to meander inland along the Loire Valley. 

We will see how we feel in the morning......

A brass band reception!

News travels fast and when the boat arrived in France there was a brass band out to greet us. Well not us specifically  but as we lapped up the news from Ireland that the Marriage Equality Referendum had passed it felt like the whole town of Roscoff had some how gotten wind of it. From very early on Saturday morning it was clear that there was going to be landslide.

Those nights when we tramped the roads canvassing we were never ever sure of that. As we knocked on a door there was often a moment of trepidation just before it opened. Who might live there, how would they respond to us, would we get a thumbs up? Over and over again the thumbs up brigade would be friendly, happy, smiley people. Then we would get an extra pep in our step and be off to the next door.

Sometimes there would be a longer conversation, a discussion or even an argument. Very rarely there was shouting and once or twice we had to back away and move quickly on. The cold shoulders and hostility impacted on the younger LGBT campaigners. How could it not? But I watched each of them grow in confidence and visibility as time went on. That has been the miracle really, their leadership, positivity and presence. It was such a privilege to be a part of it and for a short while to walk in their shoes.

Myself and himself missed the parties and all those hugs! But we had a previous engagement with a road trip though France and after voting we made a dash for the ferry. Right now I am logged on to a dubious internet connection somewhere in the south of Brittany and proud to say I had my first cold swim today. 

What's next? We look forward to a few wedding invitations.......




For some memories of the campaign see the Yes Equality Gallery here

A black cat, another road trip and a resounding YES!

Farmyard black cat in the ditch is a sign of luck

Around here these border collies are all known as Shep

The Cat Shepherd's apprentice says hello

Time to fly away for the Chaffinch too

One of these days we will be leaving this sleepy patch for a bit of a road trip so I'm taking this black cat as a sign of good luck.....

Myself and himself will be heading for France with no agenda and only half an inkling of where we are going. We have always camped out since we hitch hiked from Dublin as far as Greece and Turkey. We pitched our tent on a Mediterranean beach, were fed by local people and didn't even have Google to warn us about scorpions......

We once drove a vintage VW around Germany and Scandinavia busking and creating street art along the way. Later we piled the three kids, a dog, a cat, a budgie and a box of gerbils into a Fiat Ducato and headed off around Ireland. After a few years wet Irish summers, we ended up returning year after year to Carnac in Brittany.  Last time we slept under the stars in a balmy St. Malo. We had intended to drive to the south but ended up spending 3 weeks in the same spot so beautiful was that town on the sea.

Leaving Ireland by ferry  you realise what a tiny island far off the edge of Europe we live on. This time we will be in another VW van taking the ferry from Rosslare to Cherbourg and watching the South East corner of Ireland disappear over the horizon once more....

The resident artist who lives upstairs will feed the birds while we are gone. Until then we are both campaigning for a YES vote in the upcoming Marriage Equality Referendum. Seasoned campers, campaigners and now in our 40th year of it, at this stage we have fingers and toes crossed that we are going to hear a big resounding YES echoing across the Irish Sea in our wake........




PS I've just made my photography portfolio "mobile friendly" check out the Rural Life Gallery here should be easy peasy even on your phone!