Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Blog 14 - C'mon get happy

Blog 14 - C'mon get happy!

So I'm looking out a grey window to a grey sea with grey clouds and mist surrounding me. The ferry is rocking only barely and I'm happy to leave the motion sickness bags sitting in their little plastic holders. Billie is watching Despicable Me in the KidzCorner, having befriended a few little girls. Everyone else on the ferry seems to be reading or stretched out on the padded seats. It's 11.02am and we have set sail from Rosslare Harbour back to the UK, Wales to be precise. Tonight we'll be in the capital city, Cardiff for a few nights, then Devon...for five weeks. We are house sitting a castle. I'm not kidding

Since the last blog, I'm pleased to be able to add a new cast of characters to the story. Anne and Mike, or Nan and Pop, or Mum and Dad trundled through customs at Heathrow about four weeks ago. It was great to see them, both because we were missing them, the kids especially, but also because we felt that if we spent another second in each others' company, there may have been significant bloodshed.

We jumped onto the Tube, the kids nonchalantly, but proudly showing off their navigation and transport skills to their grandparents. (Jessie asked recently if we thought she was getting a British accent! To be fair, Billie has a few Pommy inflections going on) We spent a few days in Bayswater in a rather crappy flat in a beautiful part of London. We did a few necessary touristy things. Renae and Anne shopped. I ran around Hyde Park a few times in the afternoon dappled sunlight and fell in love with the city all over again. Renae and I saw "The Book of Mormon", a play by the South Park guys. It was irreverent and (for many I'm sure) offensive, but I consider it the funniest play I've ever seen and close to the funniest thing I've ever seen too. If it tours, see it. If you are Mrs Mooney reading this, don't see it!

Anne and Mike were happy (and generally have been happy the whole time) to fall in with whatever we wanted to do in London. We had a few mandatory rest days too due to inclement weather. All the storms that have hit the UK and Ireland generally missed us, though we have seen the results in our travels. Trees uprooted, fields flooded and, bizarrely, piles of enormous boulders washed up from the beaches, blocking roads. Cliffs are falling down, and a section of the Cornwall rail line now looks like a suspension bridge.

Anyway, after a few days in London, Mike and I went to pick up our transportation for the next bit of the trip. We are travelling in a nine seater minibus! People-wise we could have travelled in smaller, but luggage-wise there was no chance. We look and feel like the Partridge Family, minus the musical ability, and David Cassidy (boy that's an old person's joke!).

(Come on world, there's a song that we're singing...)

First stop was a little village called Hartington in the Dales. Driving in was like stepping back in time to a better, unhurried, pristine one. The Youth Hostel was in one of the most beautiful old buildings. Youth Hostels have come a long way from the stereotypical hippie/backpacker haven from the past, though I'm sure they still exist. Every one we've stayed at has been great. The place was clean, warm and comfortable the food was good, there were people to talk to and miniature pigs that the kids loved (they were really cute, funny little things). Not once did I feel that someone was going to beat me up or throw up on me...not even Renae!

(Hartington Youth Hostel - ugly isn't it?)

(Hartington)

And then we were in Wales (for the first time) and we stayed at a town called Llandudno on the Northern tip. Llandudno was definitely beautiful. It had a stunning long wide strand of beach, and lovely old houses and buildings dotting the landscape. They all lay in the shadow of the Great Orme, a large rocky outcrop where, at the top, you could see everything from the wind farms sitting surreally out at sea, to the snow capped mountains of Snowdonia. I'll carefully say it was "very Welsh", knowing I'll be corrected if I'm misleading you!!

(Llandudno foreshore and hotel strip, view from the Orme and the windmills in the water...)

Another interesting feature of Llandudno is the five hundred hotels and B&B's that you find there. This is not a big town by any stretch, and while we all loved our (Winter) stay with Nerys and Glenn at their hotel, I sense the place would become fairly unbearable in Summer. I couldn't even work out where they would all park their cars!

After a really enjoyable afternoon being fed and doted on by Jo's (friend of Anne) sisters, and a day visiting nearby-ish Conway, complete with castle visit and child meltdown (castle visit ranked high on Trip Advisor, child meltdown not so high...), we left Llandudno towards the ferry...

(This one's for you Jo)

BUT NOT BEFORE VISITING LLANFAIRPWLLGWYNGYLLGOGERYCHWYRNDROBWLLLLANTYSILIOGOGOGOCH!! Truth be told it's a fairly modest little town, but it's really funny seeing all these really long retail signs (eg Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch Audi). The girls did an AWESOME job learning the pronunciation of the town, right down to the Welsh inflections (the double l's sound a bit like saying an s with a lisp - yes I know Jo, it's not quite like that, but don't mess with me. I've got a linguistics degree!!!).

(Yeah, that place...)

Onto the ferry, van and all. Bye Wales/Pound £/Mile, hello Ireland/Euro€/Kilometer!

First stop Dublin town. Ireland seemed to do something psychological to Mike. Immediately he started to speak in an Irish accent. Things like "Do you want to stop for a coffee?" became "Would you be wanting to be stopping for a coffee at all?" More strangely, he also had moments of "pirate". "Arrr, there's the laundromat" he'd observe while driving. I think he was beginning to sense that he could have Guinness at will. In fact we all got to the hotel in good spirits!

(Sightseeing in Dublin. The atmosphere is clearly electric)

(O'Connell St Dublin)

Here's a learning: if the top of your very big rental-minivan-family truckster thing clangs against the metal barrier in an underground car park on entry, DO NOT THEN TAKE YOUR CAR FURTHER INTO THE CAR PARK!!! (Actually, it was okay...once we taped the radio aerial down!)

Hop On-Hop Off bus tour of Dublin (and frankly, for most cities) is a greatest to get your bearings, learn some facts, and get free transportation. The drivers we had both sang and told jokes and it made for a great tour. We visited the Book of Kells, a stunningly illustrated book written by monks on calfskin in the 9th century. The rest of the family went off to visit the Kilmainham Jail while I went to the Museum of Modern Art to be pretentious...okay, more pretentious. Interesting to see what passes for art nowadays.

(Kilmainham jail)

We went to the Irish Writers Museum. People like James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, Jonathan Swift and Bram Stoker all came from Dublin. I bought James Joyce's Ulysses. I'm reading James Joyce's Ulysses...if he wasn't already dead, I would kill James Joyce, or at least put him on trial for crimes against literature. Best novel ever written? Seriously?????

What else? Anne slept a bit, Renae and Mike desperately tried to find a pub that played good old singalong traditional Irish songs, where you could carouse and spill Guinness down your front or the front of someone who could either beat you up or proclaim you their best friend ever. (I went and saw the Lego Movie with the kids)

Spoiler alert, Renae and Mike looked for weeks. They failed. Best they could do was cosy bar with about 15 musicians (mostly kids) playing jig after jig.

Belfast next (so brief hello to mile and £ again). Loved Belfast because we packed great stuff in. We stayed in a place called Hillsborough (The Queen has a castle there, true dinks) which was really pretty and green - pretty much the opposite of Belfast itself.

 

We saw the Titanic Experience. It was quite an experience. The building it's house in is amazing, but also, fittingly, it's on the site where the Titanic (and its sister ship...who knew?) were build. It was a great insight tracing the growth of Belfast as an import-export town (linen, alcohol and cigarettes!) but also the design and building process of the "unsinkable" vessel as well. It was a mammoth process. And of course the wreck itself and its legacy. We walked in to the sound of sea shanties, we walked out to Celine Dion.

("I'm king of Trip Advisor!")

But another massive highlight of the trip was taking a black cab tour of Belfast. You basically get a regular taxi and for 90 minutes the driver tells you a bit of the more recent history of Belfast and Northern Ireland - the unrest, the bloodshed, how things are now. We drove down streets lined with confronting murals, both in the Catholic and Protestant areas. Tom our cabbie was brilliant, honest, funny. It gave all of us a sense of perspective, and a bit of a reality check as well.

(J&B writing on the Peace Wall, next to Geoffrey Rush and...er...Rihanna)

AND...we took a drive to the northern tip of Ireland to see the (Unesco listed, there's another one...) Giants Causeway. I could bore you with the geological explanation of how they came into being, but lets just say they are cool hexagonal rocks that are pretty cool and unique!

(Billie - not looking down)

(Giant's Causeway)

Our next stop on our counter clockwise expedition of Ireland was Mulranny, Clew Bay on the west coast. We stayed a few days and it was significant because Mike's great (great?) grandfather emigrated from there to NZ. We embarked on a bit of a "Who do you think you are?" quest to find relatives. We think, we found some. They were Carolans, not Carolin, but as a Vandenberg (or is it Van Den Burg...or Van Denburgh?) I totally understand how these things can get lost in translation, or transportation.

(View from our accommodation)

(Nearby Achill Island, home of suicidal sheep)

So we met a family - a mum and four or five siblings and we may have gotten to where Mike's and their distant relations were siblings. It's still a work in progress, and if it comes to nothing, hey we met some nice Irish people!!

(A Carolin holding a Carolan. It's about the eyes...)

On to Waterford, home of the crystal, and Limerick, home of...er, the limerick! Both places nice. We had several days in a "cosy" (read small) cottage in Tipperary. It was like a fairy cottage. In fact the whole place was quite bespoke (they love that word here). But hey, there were horses and donkeys and ducks and chickens and sheep, so the kids loved it - even if the toilet was so small I had to pee leaning against the roof. How's THAT for a visual!

(Waterford factory. Not an Oompa-Loompa in sight...)

Stopped off after visiting Cobh (last port of call of the Titanic) to kiss the Blarney Stone! Apparently now I have the gift of the gab as a result! Can you tell???

(Blarney Castle)

So a brief stop in at Kilrane in Ireland's south-east, which was lovely (private joke for Anne, Mike and Renae there) and back we go to Wales and England.

STOP PRESS:

Fast forward a few days now, and I'm finishing this up at the Castle (hmm, more pretension!) about which I'll leave for another time.

Three days just out of Cardiff (was to be two, but the tariff of the hotel was good, and the place had a complimentary pool, spa, gym and sauna!). Spent a day in Cardiff Bay - like Docklands, except with personality and atmosphere. Mike and I ruined a good walk by trying to hit little white balls into holes with varying levels of success.

(Cardiff Bay)

And then they were gone, off to float on a boat down a moat or something! These last four weeks have been hilarious, frustrating, exhausting and relaxing, and we have loved every minute of it!

And all of a sudden the four of us are banging around a huge property, alone again...naturally. But we have more adventures in store, both here at the Castle, with my mum, Eurovision, New York...it's not over!!!!

Actually, the serenity is rather nice. I can hear the owls hooting. Must go.

Lots of love from the Carolin-Vandenbergs (and others!)

 

 

Friday, 7 February 2014

Blog 13 - London II, the British Empire Strikes Back

Blog 13 - London II, the British Empire Strikes Back

Hi all. Here we are at N19, having already stayed at NW10, E17, E8, N8 and SE13 and then doing a lazy lap around the United Kingdom. We hired a car leaving Lewisham early in the New Year and I dropped it off yesterday with an extra 2700 miles on its speedo.

So N19 is Islington, home of London Mayor Boris Johnson and what seems like a million young families. Makes Yarraville look like its just not trying. Rows and rows and rows of white apartments symmetrically running along wide streets, differing only slightly by the colour of their doors, their blinds/curtains/shutters, and what is going on in their basements. Honestly, it's a voyeur's paradise. Looking out of the kitchen window is like a scene from Rear Window - so many windows, so much stuff going on. Pull up a chair and enjoy the show.

We are here for a few days, minding the house and dog for a family who are off to Paris for the weekend. We got the accommodation (our...gulp...51st of the trip) through a house sitting website and were punching the air that we have a few days without paying a gazillion pounds for good central London accommodation.

We have had, for the last week or so, in the middle of winter, with floods and chaos through the UK, some of the best weather we've had so far. All the bad stuff seemed to miss the Yorkshire Dales and Suffolk. Renae and I have managed to get quite a few runs in. People keep saying how unseasonably mild the winter is. Truth is, we are to thank for that. The Carolin-Vandenbergs are remarkably good at taking the weather with them. So, you're welcome Britain! Though the kids are pissed that they haven't had any snow.

First, as promised, a few more gratuitous photos of our trip to North Scotland as wittily and insightfully described in the last blog.

(Smoo Cave, in and out)

(Orkneys - Standing Stones of Stenness. Most alliterative place in the world?)

(Orkneys - Highland Park Distillery, Billie turning the malt)

 

Following Settle, in the Dales, which definitely had its charm, we spent a fairly magical week with friends of my Dads partner. (Tia, we have a lot to thank you for!). They live in a little hamlet called Fressingfield in Suffolk, where the air was clean and crisp, the fields were green (those that weren't ploughed or waterlogged) and the phone and wifi reception was terrible. In a way, that was a blessing as we had a great chance to just enjoy the countryside and each other...actually it was part blessing and part curse!

David and Carole live in a wonderful 14th century cottage with its own vineyard, big bounding dog Tizer, and Granary (which is where we stayed). Its a house with a lot of history, in fact the whole town was dotted with thatched roofs, the church had wonderfully wonky gravestones. There was a general store, a pub (good drinks, good food, and Jessie is a gun pool player - whod've thunk it?) and a (practically) Michelin starred restaurant where I ate one of the best meals I think I've had...ever. Not even just on this trip.

They took on us Aussie freeloaders and we had a fantastic time getting to know them. They are in the middle of building and renovating what will be their new home (next door) which looks amazing. I tried to walk around with a suitable level of Kevin McCloud-esque contemplative patronising condescension when shown through it, but its going to be a dream house that's for sure when it's finished.

Trouble was that it wasn't finished, and every morning we were woken to the dulcet tones of cement mixers, hammering, diggers, nail guns. It actually got kind of fun trying to identify the sounds. Like industrial bird watching.

We spent a day at the Suffolk Owl Sanctuary, home of incredible falcons, eagles and owls. We loved it, and not just because it was open, though that helped. We were still being confounded by things Closed For Winter, Opening Easter, and Open Weekends Only. It was frustrating, and not only because the weather was SO BLOODY GOOD...generally.

(Fressingfield, the back yard)

(Just two of owls, but I've got a million of 'em)

We visited Framlingham Castle on a Saturday (Open Weekends Only), where Mary I was crowned Queen of England, and which has an interesting history of being run by Lords and wealthy landowners as well as the Crown, over its long history. Now it's mainly just the outer wall and a few inner buildings. The girls did a kids audio tour that was so funny that Renae and I swapped our dryer dialogue one over to their Horrible History-esque one (I've used -esque twice. I'll stop saying that now). Framlingham itself was really pretty too.

(Framlingham Castle)

(Orford Castle)

We also went to Orford Castle. Best design of a castle I've ever seen. Basically round, central "space" and rooms and staircases lined around the outer walls. Repeat for four floors. Okay, I know I've not done that justice, but for what its worth we've decided to design our next house around that concept. When it's done and you all visit, you will finally understand. And you too can then walk around and make Kevin McCloud-esque (d'oh) supercilious observations. Or you could just Google Orford Castle. That may be faster.

Whew, what else? Visited Norwich. Was exactly what I expected a medium sized English town to be like. Though the Castle and Keep (now a museum) was interesting. How impressed I am by a museum is directly proportional to how whiny the kids get...and they were pretty quiet in Norwich its fair to say.

Spent a day on the east coast in Southwold. It had a pier with an amazingly kitsch arcade parlour, as well as a lighthouse smack bang in the middle of town. Wandered further on to Covehithe, where Renae bravely and somewhat regretfully put her feet in the English Channel. It was a beautiful spot - even the mud and pigs**t looked slightly magical.

(Renae: frostbite 101)

(Jess probably not contemplating a swim)

Oh, and just a minor thing - just out of Norwich was a town with the best name I've ever seen: Newton Flotman. It, along with Durian McFlurry (blog 1 I think) is the start of what will be the BEST BOY BAND EVER. I will have my band by the end of this trip (Rob Macdermid, I may need your help), you see if I don't. Especially as we've still got France and Scandinavia to come, so expect a bit of ø, ç and å action!

Introduced the kids to the vital, wonderful British works that are Monty Python and the Holy Grail and The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. (Well it can't all be castles and museums can it?)

Of course there is homework (which we have renamed, appropriately, schoolwork). Renae checked the syllabus and we were pleased to see that we are keeping the kids on track, if not slightly ahead, on a lot of their curriculum. Maths particularly. We are doing a lot of creative writing together and that's a brilliant chance to see where their minds are at. We spend a lot of time worrying that we are breaking them. Turns out kids are fairly malleable and robust. That's a relief.

Well it's 10.30pm. The streets are empty apart from men taking their dogs out for one last poo before bed. (It's Islington. Plenty of dogs, no backyards). I wrote more than I thought I would. In-laws in three days, kids are ecstatic. Pray for me. (Only kidding :) )

Keep well, safe, happy. Lots of love, as always, from the Carolin-Vandenbergs