Tag: history

Sweeping down to the sea

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I’ve an old friend. We met through a play scheme we worked on in Antrim over 40 years ago. Erik got in touch a few weeks ago to say he was off back to Northern Ireland and did I fancy going walking with him.in the Morne Mountains. Yes I did, and off we went.

The Kilmorey Arms Hotel

We met at Dublin airport and drove up to Kilkeen for a few days. Our base of operations was the Kilmorey Arms and this place was amazing. Comfortable and welcoming, staff could not do enough for us. The town itself is a little down at heel, a working fishing village with a reputation for excellent sea food. I have to say we are well at the hotel although the options around town were limited. The little Italian restaurant was good also. Family friendly and without an alcohol license if that’s a deal breaker. It wasn’t for us.

Doan in the Mournes

We asked our breakfast server for advice and were recommended Doan as a challenge but not too much. Good choice. We made either to the top (593m) in just under two hours and down a little quicker. The rain set in as the car park came into view.

Soggy

Day two was horizontal rain from the get go. We decided that our walk today would be down memory lane. Erik and I met as a result of being idealistic young people back in the mid nineteen eighties. We were workers on a series of play schemes which crossed the political divide. People were used to slogans and shootings in Antrim and Belfast, Armagh and Portadown. Children grew up heavily indoctrinated. We wanted to be part of the solution. We went to play and to somehow help children from Republican and Unionist sides to meet. Thankfully the peace process was successful with the Good Friday Agreement. It is not 100% but it is good to know that driving a vehicle with a Dublin number plate is no longer a guarantee of an attack in the North. We saw what was going on back then in the ‘troubles’.  One place more central to the peace than you know is a priory in a tiny speck of a place called Benburb. We went back through Newry and Armagh to visit.

Benburb Priory (Service Order) was founded in a former mansion and estate on the edge of the town. The members of the order, mostly priests but we know of a couple of nuns, made it their business to serve. Local people were involved in events onsite and slowly came to accept the presence of these outsiders. The priory today still serves the community with a cafe and small museum and library. The grounds are open for walking and quiet contemplation as well as festivals and celebrations. Many people wanted to speak with us. Some had personal connections.with Erik and his family.

At Benburb Priory

A day of high emotion and comfortable silences on the return journey as we each thought about how this place has shaped our lives.

Day three was grey. We had a late breakfast with friends from the Benburb area. When they left to carry on family duties we took to the hills again. The aim for the day to make it to the Blue Lough. A well-defined and short footpath lead from the walkers car park and we looked up to the clouded hills.

Path to Blue Lough

We were wrapped in waterproof jackets and strong boots. Whilst there were some puddles to cross.on the way up it was not raining heavily but as we climbed the cloud came down and we had to turn around short of our goal. We were soaked to the skin. Back to the hotel for a warm shower and a cup of tea. Reading in the hotel lounge for a peaceful hour was the perfect end to the day.

Staff cheerfully greeted us at six forty five handed the packed lunch we had asked for in lieu of breakfast as we headed back to Dublin and our respective flights home. The simple cheese sandwich was an actual platter with salad and crisps and fruit and impossible to eat in the car! We passed through the border by simply driving along the A roads. There is no boundary as such. In some ways what we were working for has happened. The island is basically one again.

While we were away a man was publicly killed in the USA. We still do not know why at time of writing. It brings to mind the ‘Troubles’. It took a long time for a fragile peace to be established in Ireland. I fear for the USA. We talked about it on our drive both hoping that this doesn’t spark revenge after revenge. Violence is never the answer.

What a week. Lovely to see an old friend. Wonderful to see the glorious countryside. Amazing to remember the part we may have played and the people who did more that we ever could to bring peace. My American friends please take care. Remember that this will pass. Peace takes effort on all sides but mostly inside yourself.

Milling around

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We just got up and decided to go. This time it was Quarry Bank Mill. It’s a National Trust property. I’ve been with a work group of new students who can’t believe the conditions a 10 year old child might expect to work in.

Quarry Bank is special because it was the very first “ideal village” in that Mr Greg (not the pasties) built housing and two chapels and a pub for his workers as well as housing. Paying them with one hand and taking it back in the shop or over the bar.  This is one of those properties that gets more visitors in the week because it’s popular with school parties.

What an amazing place.

Park sign
Oak Cottages
Inside the spinning shed

Engels visited this place. He found it to be better than central Manchester but couldn’t speak to the residents privately so was pretty sure there was stuff to hide all the same. Yep model.villagw ties directly to the Communist Manifesto. Bear in mind that although the village had a school and a library the Greg family very much controlled what people could learn and read.

History. I mean .

Golden Guides

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Many generations of guiding folk
There was cake
Mum was first guide leader

I went to a party on Friday night for the 50th anniversary of a guide group starting.  Someone described me as tne OG (original guide) since my mum started the whole thing 50 years ago.

Many of those who were guides or leaders came back to meet and greet and celebrate. There were photos and scrapbooks and camp blankets… all the good stuff. The new guides did a show for us with dancing and sketches too.

And there was cake…..really good fruit cake.

Engerland.

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Well, it’s the world.cup final. Sydney Australia. I can’t pretend to have watched all the games. I am going to watch this though. I was at Cambridge watching Billy Bragg when we won the Euros. Today, I’m home, snacks at the ready. As ever doing better than the men’s team. If these gals don’t win sports team of the year, there is no justice. BBC are you listening, not ‘women’s team’ just team. Full time professional women playing football. First team in the final since 1966. Speed shopping this morning as women rush home.to watch. Remember it’s the Lionesses who do the hunt while the lions laze around. Many a man is losing that argument this morning.

Sadly, whoever loses that nation tends to see a rise in domestic violence against women afterwards. Perhaps since less men are invested in this the cycle will.not repeat. It’s a sad reflection on the fragile male ego that sports teams losing cause such things but proven again and again. If a person’s self-esteem is so small that a team, in which they do not play, losing causes them to lash out.

Spain 1 – England 0 at half time.

Much discussion on our house about the dodgy yellow card just into the second half. (Heavens open a run to bring in the washing.) More shots this half for England, but still Spain win. It has to be said some dirty play, some yellow cards… what a game.

Eurovision (or Liverpool knows how to throw a party)

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The big day is on Saturday 13th May 2023. Liverpool us hosting the Eurovision Song Contest on behalf of Ukraine on account of Russia having invaded and Kyiv not being safe. The city is buzzing as they say here abouts. Everyone is having a boss time. Liverpool is always a friendly city and this event shows it off to perfection. So many local groups and artistes involved in really putting on a show. There’s the usual big screen and a stage with free live shows. There are special buskers stations for local and Ukranian artists. Everywhere you can see blue and yellow flags and the tee shirts bear the slogan “You’ll never sing alone” styles after the local football anthem (borrowed from the musical Carousel) You’ll never walk alone.

Food. Writers workshops. LGBTQ+ safe spaces. Soap making. Sing alongs. Children’s events. Special exhibits at all the museums. Vloggers for miles. TV crews. Sunshine (OK and showers). Vogue dancing. Parades. A yellow and blue submarine. You really can feel the love. This is not about Liverpool, though. It’s on honour of a country torn apart by war. Those attending are decked out in both their own and Ukrainian flags. Sunflowers and the pink bucket hats we have come to associate with last years winners. It’s exciting.

Whoever wins this contest (and as I write several countries have already been eliminated) and whatever you think of Eurovision (people tend to love it or hate it) I can honestly say that it’s been one helluva party.

It had to be done!

Value in Little Things

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We’ve been away but more of that later. One thing we often do is take a wander around a second-hand or junk shop. You can tell a lot about a nation by the things people resell. In Alice Springs, for example (yes, even on our great Australian adventure), we could’ve had anything from a teapot to a shirt to mining helmet. Brummen in Holland has a great 2nd hand warehouse. Gus’ back corner (achter hoek) . Seriously, you could furnish a house from there and clothe its inhabitants. There’s even paint, crockery, and electrical items. I’m not sure the cds and vinyl would be to everyone’s taste, but what can you do? Lol.

There were one or two glass cases with cast-off watches and small items of jewellery. In the back of one of these, I spotted several cameras. I love a camera. The box brownies and bellows based cameras now very difficult to get film for, but there was one little gem, an old 12 megapixel Samsung. Takes both photos and video. Look back on YouTube and someone the originals were using these things. Ten euro? Sold!

Vintage digital camera

Now, I had no idea if this was in working order, but, at that price, it was worth a punt. Reader, it works! 12 MP glory is mine. There was an SD card inside. I took a couple of test shots and flipped the display on to see the results…. guess what? In 1990, a family of Surinamese origin, somewhere in Holland, had taken pictures of their home and each other and, very sweetly, their pet rabbit. They are very ordinary photographs of an ordinary family doing ordinary things yet somehow trapped in time. I’m not going to publish their photos. I’m not sure yet if I should delete them since they have survived this long and they made me stop to think about the things we take for granted. One persons waste is someone else’s treasure. One person’s past is someone’s future.

New Years Eve

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It’s been a busy year. Lots of pre booked and in waiting post (lol) pandemic fun to be had now we have been allowed out. That said, gigs were missed due to covid and bad weather this year, too, but not the trip down under. The world looks a little different. Some people didn’t make it this far, yet others were born. Same as any year and not at all like anything I’ve experienced before. I trust that the future will be just as unpredictable as the past was when it, too, was the future. My best wishes to one and all. I’ll keep trolling on about my stuff here, and who knows, maybe you’ll stay with me. I wish anyone reading all the best for the future however long it lasts.

We love a travel show

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To be fair I mean the kind with a host who goes gently and with an open mind into all manner of places and accommodation. I’m definitely not talking (Judith Chalmers…you have to be a Brit of a certain age but think leather skinned journalist sampling up market package tours). Inspired by a live performance by one Sandi Toksvig we spent a happy evening catching up on some of her exploits around the UK this evening. Together with her chums she shows us around splendid, and often isolated, places where you could stay with a group or as a pair (if you had a lot of money) and pretend to be a knight or lady of the manor. There’s history and weather and non of it stops one from having fun.

Joanna Lumley does a mean travelogue too. Though these tend to be lengthy and exotic as do Sue Perkins travels. Notice that all of these are women. Obviously being accompanied by a film crew and fixer make things go more smoothly (or less dangerously) but the commentary from a female presenter is on a different scale. Even the great Michael Palin could be a touch epic. Its the little things which endear these women to you. I mean when did you last see a blokey travel host make dinner for his chums?

In other news I have just passed my Ham exam and will soon be licenced for the airwaves. My voyages around the world may be virtual for now but we shall see.

The Lady Vanishes

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I know, Harrogate. Scene of Agatha Christie’s disappearance. I know, spa town, source of sulphourus waters. Actually I didn’t know about the Egyption connection with its own diggers on Howard Carter’s team. Its a pretty great place for a day or two…if you don’t mind hills.

Hotel staircase

The hotel was antwacky. Mainly and elderly clientele but with a few families thrown in for good measure. Staff ever so polite. I bet the place was quite something when it had its own Turkish baths now sadly closed (although the ones in town are still open but heavily booked well in advance). There were a number of sepia photos in the lobby (formerly known as the Winter Gardens).

Day one dump bags saunter into town for lunch. Quirky bistro called the Quirky Farm. Not fast food but well worth the wait. Then on to a row of small, locally owned shops to buy fabric and best of all collect a couple of Angela Brazil novels which I didn’t yet possess. Any visit to any town with an antiquarian and second hand book store is a joy and a privilege. Diner served at 7.30 after a G’n’T in the bar. Well managed carvery style cutting down on staff as the hotel had suffered the double blow of COVID 19 and Brexit taking its staff.

Day two. Leisurely breakfast (all you can eat buffet style) and check out before wandering in to visit the Pump House museum although we did not take the waters. Found the local gallery with its exhibition of spa towns around the world in photos, paintings and historic documents. By now it was almost time … we walked slowly encountering a chap selling some sort of cd from a rack besides his beautifully restored Austin 7. Now I have a soft spot for these little gems as my dad owned one which he restored, and won prizes with, when I was much younger. I was small enough to comfortably climb through the gap for the back window then. Don’t think I could do that now. To anyone who has yet to visit a vintage car and/or steam rally with its colour, noise and smell or oil and coal I suggest that you vet to one soon before they become impossible with a ban on fossil fuel.

Mini cakes

The highlight of the midweekend (not actually a weekend but we pretended it was anyway) was afternoon tea at Betty’s. Harrogate officionados will be familiar with the queue of around 40 minutes just for tea and a cake. We took the civilised option and booked. The Imperial Room above the main shop and cafe is all that you’d imagine. White linen cloths, potted palms and impeccably dressed staff. A live pianist playing in one corner. Every care was taken to ensure allergens were removed and we ate. More sandwiches, no problem. Another pot of tea? Certainly. All in the price.

I recommend the concept of the midweekend. Some might call it a mini retirement or a holiday. All I know is that a couple of days looking at a different place is good for the soul. BTW we didn’t join in with the TaiChi in the park but may e we should have.