New van, well nearly anyway.

New van, well nearly anyway.

No driver or passenger seat. No cushions on the seats, bits missing from various places around Sadie and my 'stuff' all piled on the bed. Sadie is looking a mess and not as she usually does, a smart, tidy all mod cons home for Steve and Tanya!

We are parked up alongside the wall of the industrial unit where Messrs 'Care A Van' now all gone home for tbe night, are re-upholstery-ing Sadie. Today was strip out day. Tomorrow, fingers crossed, re-assembly with smart new interior day.

There was not much point in me or Tanya hanging around so we took advantage of the blue sky autumm day and set off walking. On our way we stopped at 'Lickey Hill Country Park' to give Tanya a sniffy walk. This large area of woodland park between Bromsgrove and Birmingham is most attractive and was within easy walking range. Topping 'Beacon Hill' Birmingham was laid out before us under the sunny blue sky. Probably one of the more pleasant ways to see this vast metropolis.  Also Topping Beacon hill were groups of children on school walks who once they saw Tanya screamed and shouted "OMG is that your dog mister and can we stroke her?"  Cue fifteen minute delay as I gently hold Tanya while saying to her, "I know, I know," as hands of all shape, size and colour reach to touch her from all sides. She didn't seem to mind and was soon back to normal Tanya/doggy behaviour as we headed downhill on quieter and child free paths.

Few days later now.

I am slowly getting over the trauma of the new look Sadie. This I have decided is a 'male' thing. I have never quite understood the indecision, anxiety and the interminable time it takes for the female of our species to decide on colour, pattern and decor in general. I mean it did not take me very long at all to choose the fabrics for Sadie.

Oh! How the mighty do fall! 

I do understand now!

The re-assembly day was a long one. I was very much involved in re-assembly of the seats. Good they may be to sit on. Good they are not to re-assemble after being fitted with smart new upholstery. In fact they were a nightmare with one still minus an armrest which needs further engineering work to be done on it.

The driver and passenger seats looked good so I could not understand my lurching and fear ridden stomach triggered by the word 'pink' which was the colour I saw as I stared at the big two seater forward facing rear seat cushion.

"Pink", I muttered. "It looks pink, bloody pink." With head in hands I recollected and apologized profusely for any past impatience I may have displayed while accompanying my better halves on the many paint, wallpaper, carpet, clothing, or furnishing trips to the B & Q's, and likewise of this world.  I was experiencing for myself the dread of getting it wrong!

All is not lost however; Tonight Mark my son and his wife Mandi came to view the Pink offering. Mandi has an artistic taste and talent I have always admired. She was honest.

"Yes it is Pinky."

As we looked closely and compared driver and passenger seats with rear seat the problem became clear. The material used on the rear seat is faded! Rectify that and slightly alter the mix of patterned and plain material and I will then have the mix of Terracotta and cream I was aiming for in the first place.

Paul, the boss at 'Care A Van' knew I was unsure as I left. He offered me a generous and honest get out of trouble clause.

"If you want something changed I'll do it for you and you just pay for any fabric used."

I've got the time. I'm still only an hour and a half away so I guess I'll be on the phone tomorrow to get this change organized.

Ho Hum!

Wales

Wales.

"Noooo! Don't tell me that! Don't make me look down. Maa God ah am gonna have to see my shrink twice a week after this. Hey wait a minute, Ah am a shrink!"

This from a retired American standing in the front cuddy of a canal barge as it slowly chugged across the sky high aquaduct spanning the 'river Dee' by the 'Trevor Basin', where, if one is so inclined, one may execute a sharp left hander and carry on to 'Llangollen' here in picturesque North Wales. I was walking alongside the barge on the narrow towpath. I was carrying Tanya due to the rather large drop to one side which had robust iron railings wide enough apart to allow doggy access to the dizzying drop below. The other side of course had a very busy five foot deep 120 year old cast iron channel full of water supporting rather long and chuggy, slowly moving canal barges. No place for a small dog called Tanya.

The retired American was with a party of four and returning their barge to the basin at Trevor from where they had hired it a week earlier. He was 'height averse' and had queried me as to whether any barges had ever fallen into the valley below. I mischievously replied.

"Not for a while anyway!" This had elicited his panicky but jovial reply.

Ireland and an uneventful ferry trip was now behind us as was a day of high gales where Sadie, rocking away in the vicious gusts, slowly negotiated the North Wales coast toward Chester and a CL for the night. (Small, 5 van camping site affiliated to the Caravan and Camping Club).

Llangollen was our destination next day which was much calmer and sunnier. The Dee Aquaduct was our surprise lunch stop where we met the American holidaying on their hired barge.

Carrying Tanya over the aquaduct was as previously explained but also it was due to her having a sore front paw which is giving her a noticeable limp on hard or gravelly surfaces. Hopefully the twice daily bathing in salty water will cure it. Let us hope so.

So there I am with random passer by taking my photo in the same place on Llangollen bridge where approximately 51 years ago I stood with my brother Richard having our photo taken by Ian with my Kodak Brownie 125 camera. Ian was a friend who had accompanied us on our Youth Hostelling walking adventure. I wonder where he is now?

More old memories eh! As I looked over the bridge I said to Tanya. 

"Yup! There's certainly been lots of water flowed under this bridge since I was last here. Best not to think about it too much eh Tanya. C'mon, time for an ice cream."

Beara, Kenmare & Dingle.

"Yu not wanted here. F***k off and make it quick right. Can yu not read the f***king signs. Now get off with yu NOW!!"

Colouful language indeed delivered from a face screaming 'no compromise, no nice'ness, no chance change of heart. It was evening. We were at the totally deserted cable car parking area at 'Dursey point' right on the tip of the 'Beara Peninsular'. True there were notices indicating no overnight camping. As followers of this blog know these notices are no deterrent to big rufty tufty wild camper Steve and his trusty companion Tanya. This rather unpleasant and aggressive enforcing of such a notice, especially at this, 'the end of holiday season' therefore came as a bit of a surprise.

About an hour later and still stinging with vulnerability we were safely and happily parked in a small ad hoc campsite. (read field with gate open and old caravans scattered around ) I willingly parted with a perfectly reasonable €6.00 to a much nicer and friendlier old farmer who grinned knowingly at ..... well I wonder ..!

Now I'd have been quite happy, to have heard from the previous excuse for a humanoid a; 'look, we're a bit touchy about overnight parking around here. Could you go and park on the beach site at Allihies please', which is where I now was.

Motto of the story; keep clear of Co Cork. They don't seem to like Motorhomes and are none too backward about making the fact known. They also specialize in rather off putting notices saying 'NO DOGS ALLOWED' and 'Dogs have been SHOT on these hills!'  These at the start of the well signposted coastal and copper mine trail walks. Hmmmmm!

The drive around the Peninsular however, was stunning. Not to be undertaken by anyone nervous of driving down coast hugging roads designed for horses and donkeys but just stunning.

I called in to the 'Dzogchen Beara Buddhist centre' en route. This centre is affiliated to the school of Buddhism whom 'Sogyal Rimpoche', author of 'The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying' is of huge influence. An author and book which for me has been life changing and indeed still influences my daily mental stability. Others would maybe question the mental stability bit. I guess they could be right too as I, never mind anyone else, am convinced I'm as daft as the proverbial brush. But I'm happy.

The journey around the Peninsular started and finished at Kenmare back in good old Co Kerry. I have had no trouble for two years now wild parking on the concrete roadway/cul de sac adjacent to the harbour and right at the head of the Kenmare Estuary with it's mouth watering west facing sunsets. These spectacles are to die for.

The old Irishman on his evening promenade along the roadway said knowingly; "Ahhh yes that'll be Co Cork right enough," as I reached the end of regaling him with my tale of woe about the unpleasantness at 'Dursley Point' .

I had company for breakfast the next morning too. A big beautiful Terradactile looking Heron within close binocular range of my open door. I watched him gobble up three sizeable fish as I munched on breakfast cereal and sipped tea. Absolute life playing out it's paradoxical connection to death right in front of my breakfast table. Fish - nil. Heron - three. Ho hummmm eh!

Finally to Dingle Food Festival and my attendance at Darach O Murchu's 'Foraging for Seaweed' workshop. Great fun. A hands on, or rather a welly boots on and trip down to the edge of a rocky low tide beach to learn about edible seaweed. Turns out most seaweed is edible but, as usual, there is a wealth of sea food knowledge and expertise already forgotten by the very likeable Daragh, which is far more than I will ever learn.

His quick cook on the roadside, and we all get a taste, of 'sea spaghetti with pesto' and 'Oat and seaweed butter fried patties' were yummy yum yum!

Mind you, lets get things in perspective. I have just enjoyed a delicious locally made Steak and Guinness pie bought from one of the festival stands. OK! Not so healthy as seaweed but still yummy yum yum.

At least now I have a better idea of what seaweed I can munch away at while doing my beachy rock walks. One tip Daragh did share. 

"When foraging with a dog keep an eye open for where your dog pees!" Good advice methinks.