Max Was Here

I'm in recovery mode after Max, Beck and Dot departed for Canberra earlier this morning. I'd forgotten how demanding and tiring a 4 yo can be especially when they're as energetic as he is. He constantly wanted to play in the park, build LEGO (we supplied 5 kits in a week and he, perhaps I should have said I, constructed everything from spacecraft to racing cars and a truck), water the cats (sorry garden), have books read to him, look for spiders and snails, hide from us, visit shopping centres and so on. We used to push about in a stroller at our speed, but that's been discarded in favour of running ahead of us as fast as he can go ... which is fast even by my standards.



The reason for the visit was Beck's residential school in connection with her Masters of Resource Management It was only a 4 day school, but they spent 6 full days with us and 7 nights. They flew up late on Sunday 14th September after Beck's team won their division in the Grand Final earlier that morning. I didn't know that her team was sponsored by the Croatian community ... she's an honorary Croatian! Max missed out on this triumph, preferring to go to a birthday party instead. Today, they departed by road on a 10.5 hour drive to Canberra as Dot wants to visit Floriade ... the city's Spring Festival. She'll be back here next Friday, just before Emily and Greg get back from the US. They're leaving Yellowstone today (Oz time) for the comforts of Hawaii.

Yesterday, we took Max to Armidale's SLEX (Sustainable Living Expo). You don't have ot be a genius to work out what this is all about and it was quite an interesting way to spend a morning, not that Max was interested in any of the exhibits except when they offered free balloons.

AS

Concert?

We were due to attend a Musica Viva concert in Armidale last night (Saturday 13th), but things didn't quite go to plan ... and it wasn't my fault! Two of Australia’s rising musical stars, Feng Ning & John Chen joined forces to perform the piano - violin works of Mozart, Beethoven, Debussy, Dvorak, and Wieniawski. Feng Ning’s first prizes in the Michael Hill (New Zealand) and Paganini (Italy) violin competitions have led to invitations to perform across the world. John Chen became the youngest-ever winner of the Sydney International Piano Competition in 2004 and competed in the 2007 International Tchaikovsky Piano Competition.

They performed magnificently ... what we heard of them because we arrived in time for the interval and missed the Mozart and Beethoven! Unfortunately, Judy, who bought the tickets, was convinced that the performance began at 8.00 and we were booked in then to a restaurant in town before heading out to UNE's Madgwick Hall. Alas, the concert began at 7.00 and we missed the first half.

The performances of the Dvorak, Debussy and Wieniawski showed excellent control and subtlty in works of considerable difficulty and we were shell-shocked that we had missed so much. Alas, there was no way to get half our money back!

AS

Added Pictures

I've beefed up some of my recent posts with appropriate (?) pictures of the places mentioned.

AS

Tara

On my last half day of freedom before returning home, I had a choice of a dozen different destinations, none too far from the airport lest something go wrong! I mean far in the Australian sense, not Irish!

My choice was inspired ... as was the weather. The destination was Tara, a location possibly recessed somewhere in your minds ... as it was in mine. I associated Tara with legends of Irish culture and a seat of power. And so it proved. The Hill of Tara is in Meath, towards Cavan in the north. And hill it is by Irish standards, with vast vistas from the top. To the northeast lay the River Boyne, site of the famous battle where William of Orange cemented his hold of Ireland at the expense of James II and, I might add, the Catholic congregation of Ireland. To the west lay the flat and boggy lowlands of the centre, and distant in the south were the Wicklow Mountains, all bathed in sunlight.

If those views and associations were beautiful and inspiring, the events at Tara were much more so. First, I should explain, there is no village or township at the site. Indeed, it is 'barren' save a church apparently associated with St Patrick's role in Ireland. Perhaps I'll qualify 'barren'. The area is a field covered in sheep, but not just any old field. The site has been occupied for 5000 years, and that passage of time has left it covered with processional trenches, barrows, monuments, and a mass of sometimes intersecting defensive positions: mounds and ditches.

This was a, possibly THE, cradle of Irish and Celtic civilisation, where kings were crowned, territories administered, rituals devised and enacted, and the dead honoured. And, the nearby church served as an interpretative centre. There, I saw a short 20 minute film which impressively recreated the life and culture of Tara over all those years ... the first church I have been in that had electrically operated blinds on the windows and an automatically unfolding screen! By the way, the blind at the end covered an exquisite stained glass window.

So, my trip to Ireland lasting just 7 days came to a superb end. Dot doesn't know this yet, but I'm taking her back there before long to share in the magical scenery and sometimes quaint culture. Certainly I learned a few words of Gaelic like Baile (town) which explains Bally this and Bally the other! I also leaned the words for slow down, caution, give way and stop ... necessary in a part of the world where English is relegated not just to second place but abolished from signage altogether.

AS

Maynooth and Dublin

You may not have heard of Maynooth about 25 km out of Dublin, but now have in a big way. I arrived in this little town on Wednesday (two days ago) to give a seminar at the branch of the National University of Ireland there. To my surprise, my accommodation was in university accommodation housing what I presume is a Catholic Seminary ... at least in part. There was a huge chapel, about the size of some cathedrals and enclosed cloisters adorned with the pictures of various bishops, cardinals, and other senior clerics My room was apparently reserved for the Bishop of Cashel, who visits periodically, and therefore suitably grand. I was told, but this unconfirmed, that John Paul II stayed in that same room when he opened facilities at the university early in his Papacy!

I took the opportunity to have a day off and travelled into Dublin on a commuter train. 'Day off' might not be the right term, because I walked for almost 8 hours during the day and must have been doing some penance because it wasn't till I got to Connolly Street station for the return trip that I realised I hadn't drunk anything or eaten since breakfast. Perhaps that's because the journey of discovery was riveting.

I 'did' the regeneration of Dublin's docklands, the banks of the Liffey, the length of O'Connell St and perused its role in Irish history, the shopping district (Abbey, Henry, Mary, and other streets), Parnell Square, Jameson's Distillery, and a host of grand public buildings. Oh, I also spent some time in the Hugh Lane Gallery of Modern Art and viewed sundry statues including a marvellous one of James Joyce. Dublin is an evocative city and I learned much about Irish history in the process.

For once, the Irish weather was kind and I actually saw the sun!!

AS

Connemara

This is a truly wonderful place and recommend a visit soon. It's a place where a large and variegated sky (with hues in many shades of blue, white and gray) meets the sea and vast expanses of rock dotted with cottages, sheep, jetties, and wildflowers. Interspersed lie great lumps of rock protruding into the sky. The roads are narrow ... often track, but in this place it adds to the fun.



AS

Achill Island

I spent today somewhere new again. This time it was Achill Island on the west coast of Ireland, near Westport in Co Mayo whwere I'm staying a couple of days. Being Ireland, it poured with rain! But being Ireland, the coastal scenery along the edge of the Atlantic was absolutely magnificent ... in fact overwhelming. Mountains like Slieve Mor (672m) plunge straight into the ocean and have massive sea cliffs. I can recommend this destination to all!



AS

Stately Homes

Much of this week was taken up with visiting a range of stately homes in the Plymouth area.

Sir Richard Edgcumbe of Cotehele built a new home in his deer park at Mount Edgcumbe in 1547-53, but it was heavily damaged by bombing in the Second World War because it is across the Tamar river from the Plymouth Naval Dockyard. It was restored by the 1960s!



Cotehele is a Tudor house, located on the banks of the Tamar, with superb collections of textiles, armour and furniture, set in extensive grounds. It was built between 1485 and 1539 and is older than the first site. Both houses are connected with the same family.

Finally, we visited 'Antony' at Torpoint in Cornwall. This hs been home to the Carew Pole family and the Pole Carew family (yes, the names got reversed over time!) for a mere 600 years and we caught a glimpse of THE Carew Pole wandering through the house. He was dressed almost as casually as me and not like a peer of the realm! The house, however, was a 'new' one constructed in the 18th century.

Perhaps I should mention a fourth residence. When we visited Padstow to see Joanna, Martin and the kids camping there at McDonald's farm, we took a side trip to Port Isaac, and came across a curiously familiar Cornish fishing village, although I'd never actually been there in my life. The familiarity comes from being a fan of Doc Martin, the BBC television series about a country doctor. The show is filmed at Port Isaac and we saw the house and thew sloping street where his surgery is located!! It was amusing to read that the locals are up in arms over the TV series - a fourth series is coming soon - because it has 'ruined' their charming lifestyle by encouraging lots of visitors ... including us and many others.



It's a pity I can't post pictures of these either! But I'll try to make amends whwen I get home.

AS

Joanna's 30th

I returned from Spain on an EasyJet flight from Barcelona to Bristol, and although the flight was delayed an hour, I still made it to Brian's house in Plymouth for the party last Sunday 10 August.

It was good to meet some of Martin's relatives who were there and Aunt Hazel, who is almost the last of her generation still alive. And, of course, Lucy and Hollie were noisily in the audience. In fact, I'd have posted a picture of the happy mum and her kids but for the fact the hotel wireless system wouldn't let me. So, that's another time!

We were still eating the remnants of the cake 5 days later as I prepared to leave for Westport in Co Mayo, Ireland, from where this posting is being made.

AS

And so to Barce

The last day in Spain paralleled the others in exhaustion and exhilaration! It started with a two hour drive back to Zaragoza, yet another three hours walking the city, and a quick trip to Barcelona by train. Some train! The 320 km via Tarragona took about 1 hour 40 minutes and you can probably work out the average speed including stops was up around 200 kmh. The top speed reached was a round 300 kph, but all one heard at that speed was a gentle swish. The train did not rock and just glided through space while the passengers lounged in comfortable seats. It sure beat flying.



Late afternoon I was out and about Barce's streets and underground. The latter was extensive, cheap and convenient. I really only had time for two destinations before buying food for a meal in my hotel overlooking the spectacular Catalonian museum and the former Olympic site. First, I joined thousands of others cramming the Sagrada Familia, the world's most famous incomplete church and possibly the world's best known piece of architecture. I concur with these assertions and I would also have to say that it's an architectural masterpiece of astounding proportions. Whatever your religious views, visit it while you're still alive and you will not be disappointed. I lingered in awe much longer than I anticipated.



After God came Mammon. It took the form of La Rambla, a 2 km sequence of streets leading from Spain's equivalent of Nelson's Column to the Catalonian Square inland. The figure atop the column - much higher than Nelson's - is the city's favourite son, Christopher Columbus, and he gazes out over the harbour towards the Mediterranean and across the modern World trade Centre. La Rambla was a mad-house last Saturday evening. Although not good at estimating crowd numbers, I'll have a go. Perhpas 200,000 partying people were strewn across the 2km of street, visitng bars and restaurants, theatres and an opera house, all kinds of shops including those with a sexual orientation, and soaking up street theatre. It was difficult to make progress through the tide of often scantily clad humanity. At least I had a sort of shirt on and my shorts were roughly around my waist, but many of the men didn't and the girls left little to the imagination!



And so my hectic visit to Spain drew to a close. What a time! And I'd definitely like to go back. Any takers?

AS