So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

This is not an easy post to write, which is why I have been putting off writing it since January.  I had always vowed that, if I decided to put Hints to Lady Travellers into mothballs, I would do it cleanly, not just disappear and not post anything for five months.  Hmm.

This blog gave me a sense of purpose at a time in my life when (confronted by so many possibilities) I often felt adrift.  Documenting my travels, from London, to Cape Town, to Melbourne, and back to Dublin, helped me to make sense of the other, inner journey I was on.  Blogging about the people, the experiences, the friends I made, the nephews I gained, helped me to develop my own voice as a writer.

But while, for several years, Lady Traveller was my main role, my vocation and avocation all rolled into one, more recently the demands of my job, plus my changing circumstances (homeowner!) have conflicted with the demands of the blog.

And so I have decided to say, perhaps not goodbye completely, but goodbye for now.  I will still continue to read about lady travellers, to keep the lady traveller spirit alive in my own doings, to visit islands, to seek out strange museums - and encourage others to do the same.

I can't think of a better way to end this interlude than with these words by the Greek poet Cavafy, via The Poetry Foundation:

Ithaka

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn is playing with us.  One day (yesterday, say) it's cold and grey and Melbournites break out the hats and scarves.  The next (today, for example), it's a little bit crisp in the morning, but then blue-skied and warm for the rest of the day.


But despite the sunshine, there is some incontrovertible proof of the changing season - falling leaves.  I spotted these on a walk through North Fitzroy and I liked the mix of more and less usual foliage...

Back to the Future

Or ‘Why moving to a new city for the second time is easier’;

Alternatively: ‘I didn’t want to leave Dublin, but now that I’m here, I’m actually quite glad.’

As ardent followers of this blog [n=6] will have noticed, my enthusiasm for blogging waned at the end of 2010.  The truth is I was tired of travelling.  When I left my job in London and started The Big Adventure, I itched to explore.  I loved the freedom of No Stuff.  I liked the lightness it gave me.  I liked my new-found openness.  Greece, France, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Australia … the further, the better.  Until I found myself in Melbourne in the grip of winter, hard at work and feeling like I’d made a mistake.  This wasn’t fun, it was too far, I missed my home, my family, my friends and, yes, my stuff.  I persevered and reminded myself that this was a different kind of adventure: less holiday, more work.  But still, the feeling of having had enough lingered.  Certainly, by the time of my New Zealand trip at the end of the year, I felt, too often, like I was going through the motions: glacier, check; mountain, check; city, check.  When I finally made it home to Dublin, I never wanted to leave. 

Two months seems like a long time at one end, and like no time at all on the other.  As the date of my departure for Melbourne approached I went through the motions of getting ready to leave, but found it very hard to convince myself that I really was going back to the other side of the world.  Until, suddenly, there I was, in Dublin Airport again, saying goodbye again.  Is there anything worse than the moment where you have to turn your back and walk away?  I swear that I considered turning around, asking if I could stay, letting the plane go without me. 

The journey is strange: the closest thing to inter-planetary travel most of us will ever experience.  It’s a foggy cycle of announcements, movies, funny, compact meals that goes on and on and on.  Abu Dhabi airport at nighttime added to the surreal feeling: essentially one huge duty free shop with a few seats.

And then I got off the plane and it was summer and I thought, surprised, ‘oh I like Melbourne’ and realised that this wasn’t such a bad result after all.  The second time round the city is familiar.  I recognised landmarks on the way in from the airport.  I have a phone that works and a bank account (with money in it, even.)  I have friends here.  People welcome me back.

And what’s this?  Why, it’s my dormant sense of adventure, uncurling and stretching.  And so I have resolved to make the most of the next five months.  My name’s Eithne.  I’m a Lady Traveller – and I like it. 

Plans for the next few months include going to Tasmania to visit the recently-opened Museum of Old and New Art, going to Alice Springs so that I can see what A Town Like Alice really looks like (and finally see some Outback) and sorting myself out with a bicycle so I can explore Melbourne more thoroughly.  I also have a mad idea to visit Samoa, but will have to see how I go.  If you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comments.

Auckland Evening

First impressions of Auckland: clean, amazing light, view of the water everywhere.

I arrived on Monday evening and once I’d found my hotel set off down Queen St, the main artery of Auckland’s CBD. Over Queen St itself, we’ll draw a veil – picturesque it isn’t, nor very interesting. But Queen St leads to the harbour and that is picturesque – full of ships of every size and shape, from naval vessels through container ships to little sailboats.

The Hilton in Auckland is perched on a pier and looks like a cruise ship.

I decided it ought to have a bar with a good view, and indeed it had. The bar was called Bellini and thanks to the power of suggestion I ordered a classic peach bellini. I sipped it and watched containers being lowered into a ship. It must be the five year old boy in me, but I love this: something about the bright colours of the containers and the simple puzzle of slotting them all into the ship.

Onwards & Eastwards

It's ironic really. This is, to all intents and purposes, a travel blog - but most often, the thing that gets in the way of blogging is travel. Yesterday, for example, I was in Brisbane for work and didn't get back to Melbourne until late. (I suppose another way of looking at it is that work quite often interferes with blogging ...)

It has occurred to me that I should overhaul my phone and get one of them there smartphones so I can blog on the road. I promise I'm going to look into this when I'm at home for Christmas.

Speaking of which - this post was really intending to be about my travel plans for the next few weeks. I've been in Australia for 4 1/2 months - the longest I've gone without crossing a national border since ... well, I don't know. (I've said it before but I think it bears repeating - it's not until you get to Australia that you realise quite how far it is from everywhere else.) That will all change on Monday when I go to Auckland. Yay! New Zealand! New country!

I'm spending two weeks in New Zealand and then I am flying from Auckland to LA to Toronto (to see LTBB and his lovely wife), back to LA and then on to London and then, finally, home to Dublin in time for Christmas. Lady Traveller is on the move!

The Lady Traveller's Itinerary

On Monday I fell under my to-do list. It’s taken me until today to climb back out and wrestle that thing to the ground. I have a backlog of pictures to post and, I’m excited to say, my sister has volunteered a guest post for tomorrow’s Official Hints Day. Her hint is an extremely important one, the value of which she has learned the hard way (it involves fumigation).

It occurred to me that, since I’ll be departing these shores on Tuesday, I should update the blog as to my whereabouts for the next six months.

The first stop is China, though only for four days. I’m sure that’s nowhere near long enough even to get a taste of the place, but I’m hoping it’ll be long enough at least to get a taste of Shanghai, which is where I’ll be. I’m interested in the East-meets-West history and also fascinated to see the Expo which I’ve been assured is cramazing.

From Shanghai I fly to Tokyo, thereby fulfilling a long-held ambition. Not to fly that particular route, you understand, but to go to Japan. I will be in Japan for a week and have been reading Isabella Bird’s Unbeaten Tracks in Japan in preparation, so expect excerpts to be flung at you.

From Japan I fly back to Shanghai (for three hours) and on to Singapore (for 28 hours). Mostly I plan to sleep in Singapore.

The next leg is Singapore to Sydney to visit some very dear friends and their three adorable children. This will be my third visit to Australia and the third time I’ve visited in the middle of the Australian winter. Yes, I’ve heard summer is delightful there – one day, I hope to experience that for myself!

And from Sydney I’m going to Melbourne where I will be living for four months; teaching and doing whatever other work I can find.

Sometime towards the end of the year, I will head back to Ireland via New Zealand and North America, but that part of the trip is still a bit fuzzy.

And then – well, after that I have no plan, so we’ll just have to see. By the end of it all I will have visited every continent except Antarctica (and if you let me cheat and claim ‘The Americas’ is one continent). ANY suggestions, ideas, itineraries, contacts for any of the places I will be would be most gratefully received.

Skippy

Here’s a hint: get a skip. Fill it up. Bathe in the glow of righteousness.

You’re asking what this has to do with Lady Travellers, but actually there is a connection. Did you ever wonder what Lady Travellers do with all their things when they go travelling? If they’re lucky, their parents will let them store stuff in the attic.

But this Lady Traveller has a fear of being a thankless child (sharper than a serpent’s tooth), a KIPPER (kid in parents’ pockets, eroding retirement savings) or even a Salt Cod (Supposedly A Lady Traveller, Currently Only Daughterlivingathometakingupvaluablespace) so in return for storing my belongings, I promised my mother that I would arrange to have an attic clear out while I was here.

This could not have been achieved without the sterling assistance of my brother, who spent the day with me and the skip. Oh that skip: full of dollies with no arms, old school text books, broken suitcases, bits of old furniture. (We’re a very keeping family.)

And now, Mama, Cormac and I are still on a skip high. We feel cleansed. We feel lighter. We feel good, da nah nah nah nah nah nah. We feel - what's the word? Skippy. Take it away:

Working From Home

Things that only happen when you work from home #1: answering the door to Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Marseille Part Deux

Today we will compare and contrast. In October, Roisin and I spent a golden day in Marseille, described here. That was an Indian Summer day, with crisp autumn-coloured leaves and sun warm enough for lunch outside.

Marseille in January is almost more beautiful. The light is amazing: clear, pure, bright.

Our trip in October was heavy on the cultural appreciation whereas this one was more focused on shopping appreciation. Oui, les soldes were in full swing. Well, actually, more like coming to an end meaning bargainous bargains were to be had.

We spent an hour or two walking the main shopping streets: shoes were bought (silver dancing shoes with a Cuban heel for Sally), boots were admired.

We went for lunch at Les Arsenaulx (again), but sat inside in the book-lined restaurant this time.

Erin ordered the soupe de poisson avec sa rouille et ses toasts and the rest of us looked on admiringly.

I had pork (again) and followed up with the café gourmand. This is a genius idea whereby you order a coffee and get one or two mini desserts with it. This time it was a coconut pannacotta with raspberry coulis. Num, num, num.

More cultural shopping experiences after lunch, including some successful purchases at Tara Jarmon, everyone’s new favourite shop. We also had a very fun browse in Hermes, thanks to the charming assistant who insisted he enjoyed nothing better than unfolding the scarves for us to see.

After that, we walked over to the old port. Twilight is something I missed in Africa – and this was a beautiful specimen:

We had an aperitif at a bar overlooking the harbour called La Caravelle,

and I took pictures in the mirror (it’s like a sickness with me) of Notre Dame de la Garde – the beautiful church high on the hills of Marseille, that Roisin and I cycled to in October.

J’aime bien Marseille en hiver.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

This has been me today. Very dozy. I suppose you can't go from a seven-month long summer straight into winter and not throw your system out of whack.

I woke up at 6.30 this morning, very confused because it was so dark. I thought about getting up but decided against it. At 4.30 this afternoon, it was dark again. I'm currently resisting the urge to go back to sleep.

In short, my body is going into hibernation mode. I am fighting this HARD and promise, promise, promise, I will be back to writing coherent posts tomorrow.

PS my mother, aka Rattdl, pointed out that I had misspelled 'woolie' in yesterday's post. It should be 'woollie'.

Home is where someone lovingly prepares the fatted lasagna, puts a hot water bottle in your bed and points out your spelling mistakes.

DIY Exhibition Design

In my pre-August 2009 experience of exhibition design this is how things usually worked:

I would have a random idea, suggest it to the designer, who would roll her eyes and explain patiently to me why my idea was impossible and gently suggest how it might work in the real world where ponies don’t have wings and fairies don’t build your exhibition in the night while you sleep. Then a team of other designers and fabricators would become involved to make the idea a reality.

Things are a little different now. On Thursday, as we looked at the exhibition space in Greatmore and talked about how to demarcate the work of the three artists, I suggested doing something with the floor. ‘Great!’ said Kate. ‘So I’ll leave that with you then.’

Which is how I ended up spending a day cutting stencils and spraying the floor. Well, I started spraying the floor but was doing such a bad job that Gary came in and showed me how it was done.

I did do a few more at the end though. 'Linda' is all my work.