Eire straits and leaving essay

We had a fun week van-touring about the north of Ireland with sister Pip and her husband, Don.

Getting the low-down on the whys and whens of the Walls of (London)Derry.

After driving ridiculously off the beaten track (it´s hard to get away from the houses in Ireland) we found a couple of stunning beaches to camp on.


Makes Spanish look easy..

Blackberry season...

Pip and I did a lot of fishing, without any luck. She caught a bunch of mackeral after we left though.

Apart from the beaches we camped in a dairy farmer´s shed, down some tiny little tracks, and on top of a large cliff in a little gale.

Dublin was nice enough, we were 'processed' at the Guiness Tourist Factory (where they brew Guiness disciples) but found the tour of Kilmainham Gaol really interesting.

Some of Irelands finest..

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Leaving…..again

An essay by Jamie as we finish up in GB..

For what seems the hundredth time we’re leaving - dissembling a kitchen, using up the flour and mayonnaise, packing toilet bags and going through cupboards, deconstructing the living environment we’ve become adapted to over the last few weeks or months.
‘I’ll miss that washing machine, but not that pathetic shower’, or ‘Was this wooden spoon ours?’

It’s a strange thing to be completely settled on Thursday morning (off to work, recycling the wine bottles, dinner with friends) and then all at sea by Friday night (flat emptied, van stuffed full, car, keys and cell-phone returned, ‘See you again…maybe’). It’s even weirder doing it eleven times in twenty four months.

I feel sad at the loss of small habits and knowledge that accumulate in each place we live. I can now recommend a friendly butcher in Chwilog, a greengrocer in Lanchester, and where to buy cheap fishing tackle in Campbeltown. There’s a great £5 meal deal – a Pizza and a Pint –if you’re near Llanberis on a Tuesday night. I also know just who to ask in half a dozen vet clinics if you need something done.

But one upside to all this vagrancy is simple to identify – the (partial) liberation from Stuff. Every time we move is a chance to get rid of some more pots, or maybe a pair of shoes. Soon we’ll be selling the van and stripping our gear down to a couple of packs. That’s good, although it’s likely we’ll start gathering up more things immediately.

And of course we’ve met any number of kind, friendly, interesting and funny folk along the way. Some are people that iron their bedclothes, others just love pigs, some fly jet fighters and live in a windmill, while others enjoy nothing more than poaching salmon and taking the dogs out for foxes. The generous inclusion and acceptance we’ve felt from so many people has, without doubt, been the highlight of our time in the UK. We’ve seen how, really, you can live almost anywhere (as long as the basic needs such as mountains and a little wilderness nearby are satisfied). And even though it’s a contained sort of beauty, rural Britain is a really special place. We’d easily return to live in North Wales or the Kintyre.