Back in the bosom of the Earth Mothers

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We where delayed from Cherbourg in France two days as the rough seas where too dangerous. That should have warned me enough of the nightmare to come and told me to get off the damned ferry and head to Ireland via England. No such luck, finally we set off and I found my little cabin. Half an hour from shore I woke to huge crashing bangs, extreme thrashing, and the ferry bouncing all over the ocean like a drunk. The motion went straight to my stomach and I spent the next 12 hours clutching the toilet bowl vomiting. In between throws I was madly checking the evacuation procedure and everyone in the ferry was sick and freaking out. It was so rough, wind force 9, and we we had no choice but to stop in the night and wait for it to subside. I couldn't move and I vowed never to travel by ferry again. It was nothing like the leisure cruise ships of the Mediterranean! We where 18 hours late, dumped at the port at 2am with no accommodation so another sickly night spent sleeping on the hard plastic visitors chairs. Love travel 😊.

But the Irish made up for it in no time. Not only do they make THE BEST post vomitous cup of tea but they are so earthy and beautiful they made all my anxiety disappear. I have met more lovely, unpretentious earth mothers in my first day in Kilkenny than in the rest of Europe. I feel really at home and plan the last few weeks of my trip here before heading back to Australia. The only problem I find is that initially some think I'm English and snub me a little bit, so I'm getting a taste of the English/Irish relationship. If they pick the Aussie in me it's quite different and I feel embraced with hospitality and cheeriness.

I started the journey on a bus across the green valleys, big smily black and white cows, sweet sheep with sooty faces, misty rivers, icy fields, old stone walls, bracken fences and immaculate hedges. All the beauty of Ireland you hear about but quite something more than that when coupled with the musical friendly voice of the people. What a great country to finish almost a year long trip with. Just to be able to communicate properly after time attempting French is a blessing and I'm intending to let the spirit seep into my soul.

I don't think I could have possibly really seen the colour green until I lay my eyes on the irridescent moss of The Burren. Thick undulating fields of squelchy grasses broken up by lichen covered grey stones. Gnarly trees padded with moss and ground so permeated by damp, here and there sliced open to reveal the fertile peat.

Damp and misty are words synonymous with Ireland but it's the smells of coal and ruralness that will linger in my memory. The shrill of noisy seagulls and the rush of the wind whipping through the grasses.

The burly clouds and the visible chilly breath of the animals talking to me over the fences. The thatched roofs of the colourful fishing villages and the cheery billowing smoke are as enticing a sight as you can imagine. But it's the optimistic Irish pride that lives inside that is the most enveloping. I couldn't possible feel more welcomed.

I remember studying the poetry of Seamus Heaney, he explains the heart of Ireland in his description of the ancient peat bog man and the layers of tradition unveiled in the earth. I remember his words and now I can truly begin to feel it. The people like ruddy little bog men connected entirely with the earth and their history. You can almost see inside the souls of these beautiful old men at the pub, listening to the jig and no happier place could they be, snug with their mates and ready to tell some tales.

It's when the pub closes that the real Irish tradition can be seen. For all that liquid and no food I joined the mass descension on the only late night chipper like a hungry seagull. Gravy chips, garlic chips, chips with peas. CHIP HEAVEN. Hilarious to be a part of as we stumbled and sang our way home. I had my Guiness and yes it was GRAND as they say. No one let me buy a beer, they all have family in Australia and that's enough. Gorgeous.

From Northern Ireland now in Derry, a walled city with a turbulent history that is prevalent everywhere in the eyes of the fighters. Passionate people with a justified cause and iron wills to match - they feel there is an end in sight. And let's hope so.

I feel like I have been roaming the wild countryside forever and covered a lot of ground. From Derry to the North Coast at Portstewart and along the lush green dramatic coast to Giants Causeway. Then through soggy fields of sheep via Belfast to Dublin. Phew! Loads of gorgeous scenery on the way, chatty folk and tea stops. It is the wettest year on record in this part of Europe and probably watching it from the inside of a bus is the best way. Sounds like the weather couldn't be more opposite to sunny Sydney and now I am itching to return. It isn't even properly winter here yet and the variations on shades of grey clouds continue to astound me. I spent last night doing the typical UK thing, clutching endless cups of tea next to the toasty coal fuelled fire watching English soapies. Sad I know, but a welcome brain relief with the other exhausted travellers. It's clearly time to finish this journey and leave the Northern world.

Homeward bound via Spain and Greece and Dubai I fly.
Love to all and see you soon.
Kris
xxx

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