The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz

Sorvagen - A Fishing Village

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 05:27:00 +0000

We rose to sunlight streaming in the windows. What joy! Grey skies and rain become wearing after a while. Emdee and Jaydee were still sleeping. Jaydee still had the car key so Hubbie and I decided to walk to the nearest shop to get some basics for breakfast. There was nothing at all in the cupboards, not even a grain of salt.

We walked along, with me stopping to take photographs every few seconds. Luckily the shop wasn’t too far away and Hubbie wasn't too hungry. Though the shop looked small it had a good range of goods. It even doubled as a pharmacy with medicines in a locked cabinet.

First on the list was fresh crusty bread, then fruit -nectarines, kiwis and bananas - milk and sugar for coffee and some washing powder to wash my clothes.

The others were just up when we arrived back. We had breakfast, sitting on the terrace, admiring the view. I had one of the kiwis. It came with a scoop. When I topped it, it was yellow! I tasted it. It was like someone had made a bad cross with a pineapple. It was soft and sweet. Hubbie then noticed a sticker saying “Kiwi Gold” I’ll look out for that in future, to make sure I never buy them again.

Across the harbour the Lofoten Wall rises dramatically. We could see a lake and a waterfall. We decided to go for a walk to the waterfall. We told Emdee and Jaydee to go ahead and we'd follow at our own pace or to be exact, my pace. I’m very unfit and walking uphill is not my thing. I thought I might make it to the waterfall to take some pics. Because of this, I brought the tripod. Sorry, I should say, Hubbie brought the tripod. The scrabble over rock, to the waterfall was not to difficult and I took it in my stride. Taking the photos was a different story. Even though I set up the tripod I found it very hard to see the LCD screen on the back of my camera. There is no view finder and I'm traditional, I like a viewfinder. Up to now it hasn't been a problem but in this bright sunlight I couldn't see a thing. Most of my photos turned out "flat". Michael Herrmann where were you when I needed you? I'm going to need more tuition! I tried several different settings but I could not get what I wanted. Grrr!!

We decided to go a little higher. We followed a trail across a rickety bridge – a couple of planks and on up the mountain. Well, I puffed and panted and Hubbie had to take my hand and pull me up some of the “steps” but I made it to above the falls. There was another lake up here. This time there was a proper wooden bridge cross the stream. Water was being pumped from the lake. I imagine it was the local water supply. From here, it flowed down the mountain in a waterfall. I was taking some photos on the bridge when Hubbie decided it would be fun to rock it. The glare he got soon stopped that. I’m a scaredy cat and rocking bridges are not my thing.

We met Emdee and Jaydee at this point. They had climbed much higher and were on their way back down. We returned to the lower lake together and ambled back to the house. My left leg, which had been in agony the previous day, from the climb up the tower of Nidaros Cathedral was now joined in it’s agony by the right one. They told me that the walking would get rid of the build up of lactic acid. Hmmm, not sure if it was successful! But I was so proud of myself for getting as far up as I did.....and I have the photos to prove it.

Emdee suggested we go out to eat that night as we were all tired after the walk. We went to the local restaurant, Maren Anna. The staff appeared to be Italian and were very helpful and full of fun. The catch of the day was halibut. I had saike and Hubbie had a steak. The food was delicious. But we were certainly still at Norwegian prices. €100 for 2 main courses. Wow! We’ll definitely be eating in tomorrow.

Lofoten and the Midnight Sun

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 00:29:00 +0000

On arrival into Bodo, we took a taxi to the airport. I had read that it was in walking distance, just 3km, but even though my bum was numb, I didn’t fancy pulling my suitcase that distance.

Bodo is a small airport. We checked in and went to get something to eat. We had the nicest airport food I have had anywhere. I had an open prawn sandwich. Hubbie had a roll filled with ham, cheese and salad. I also had fresh strawberries and orange juice. Hubbie stuck to the coffee. Emdee and Jaydee had bowls of salad. You could pick and choose whatever you wanted from the salad bar. The surprising thing is that by Norwegian standards the food was good value. Hubbie and I paid about €30 for our meal.

Later I decided to have a coffee and a cake. I went up to the counter and saw an absolutely sinful chocolate square. It was like chocolate fudge cake with caramel. I wasn’t sure if the plane would get off the ground if I indulged. I decided to risk it. Here was the kicker, €13 for 2 coffees and a piece of cake! But, believe me, that chocolate cake was worth every cent, I mean Krone.

We boarded our small plane. It was only a twenty minute flight, it would have been 31/2 hours by ferry. Hubbie would never have survived that. He can't look at a boat without getting seasick! As usual he was a gentleman and allowed me to have the window seat, right in front of the propeller. I had a great view of the islands as we approached. They looked mystical rising out of the mist.

Landing safely, we felt a few squibs of rain. It seemed to follow us everywhere. The weather forecast was good and we had hoped for some sunny if cool weather.

We collected our bags, the airport was tiny, there was just the one small luggage belt and went out the front to pick up our hire car. Eirik met us as promised and sorted out the formalities. The formalities? There were very few. He just wanted to see the driving licences of anyone who was going to drive. All four of us could drive if we wished. There were no credit cards required. I just had to sign a form as the hiree and we were tp bring it back with a full tank of petrol.

We found the E10 and set out for Sorvagen. The scenery was mind-blowing. I would have loved to stop the car in a couple of places as the sunlight – it was now 10 o’clock at night – poured through gaps in the mountain peaks. However, it had been a long day and my companions were tired. If we stopped everytime I wanted to take a photo we would never reach our destination.

Eventually we arrived and Elin came to show us to the house we had rented. I’ll have to say, our faces dropped. The grass was knee high, there was a couple of wooden planks instead of a step and the outside could certainly have done with a coat of paint. Inside it was similar. I was reminded a little of student accommodation. I thought of the page in my folder, of the beautiful little wooden white house I had rented and had to wonder if this was the same place. However, the views were magnificent -though the windows could do with a wash. Emdee was a bit overcome, tired after the long trip. The bedrooms were what left most to be desired. The second "double room" had a family bed, a double bunk bed on the bottom a single on top. The third was 2 separate single beds. We wanted to pay by credit card, Elin had several Rorbu and houses to let but she told us this house was privately owned and she wanted cash payment. We did not have enough cash on us so we said we would pay the next day. As it turns out we paid the evening before we left. We were not approached for the money, it seems like we must have had honest faces. We were trusted not to do a runner!

The garden at 02.00. I played with my photo-editing programme here.

Leaving Emdee and Jaydee to settle in, Hubbie and I went out for a walk. It was still bright, even though now it was approaching midnight. What a beautiful place we had come to, it was a small working fishing village. I was looking forward to roaming with my camera. On our return, Hubbie went to bed. I sat for a while to sort out my photos. I needed to save them to my external hard drive and delete them from my memory card. By the look of things, I was going to need a lot of space over the next few days. We had arrived in a photographers paradise.

Amidnight walk, you can see a faint rainbow

I watched the sun dip behind the Lofoten Wall, then rise again in the East. It was so beautiful.

As I sat in the peace and quiet I looked at my surroundings again. Yes, the house was very basic. There was no kettle, no clothes line and the outside certainly needed some TLC but the inside was quite pretty and it was spotlessly clean apart from the outside of the windows.

I was looking forward to what the new day would bring.

Crossing the Artic Circle

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Fri, 10 Aug 2012 23:09:00 +0000

Leaving Trondheim, we set out for the train station in a light drizzle. Our early morning train was going to take us to Bodo, crossing the Artic Circle in the process. It would be a 10 hour train journey. This was to be followed by a 25 minute flight to Leknes on the Lofoten Islands, our next stop on our Norwegian adventure. We found our train and our assigned seats. This time, strangely, though the journey was longer, the train was not as luxurious and there was no wifi to help pass the time.

Wifi would just have been a distraction, it wasn’t necessary as the scenery was more than enough to keep us entertained. Fjords, mountains, rivers, rolling farm land.

All the following photos were shot through glass on a moving train. I did my best:-))

Looks like a rural idyll, at this time of year anyway.

Church on a hill

Railway Station

.....and another

About an hour and a half before our journeys end we crossed the Artic Circle. In the distance we could see a visitors centre, but the crossing itself was marked by little pyramids of stone. I had been waiting eight and a half hours to take this photo but the sun was finally shining and of course the windows on the opposite side of the train were reflected in the glass so it is a bit difficult to see the actual cairn.

Snow-capped Mountains

...but the first blue sky we had seen in days

Pyramid marking the Artic Circle, and of course I got the reflection of the windows opposite. These were my worst photos from the moving train. The windows didn't open!

Here the countryside was bleak and snow lay in patches on the ground but there were beautiful blue skies, the first we had seen since we arrived in Oslo. We were approximately 700m above sea level. You would wonder who would want to stay in this house that seems totally isolated.

Just above the Artic Circle, all on it's lonesome!

In no time at all the train began to descend from the heights and once more we were greeted with the wonderful lush countryside.

We've descended towards Bodo and lost the blue skies

What a pretty setting!

Sea and Sky

Lupins were everywhere.

Our train journey was just coming to an end. It was just as well, as all the excitement had Emdee and Jaydee out for the count. It had been a long day and there was more to come!

174 Steps.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 30 Jul 2012 23:33:00 +0000

We allowed ourselves to have a relatively lazy morning, going down for breakfast at 09.30. There was a great range in the buffet. Besides the usual cereals, fruits, bread and jam, there was a hot buffet of sausage, chicken, potatoes and eggs. In addition to this there were several varieties of cold meats and well as fish and pickled herrings. I was restrained, I just had some scrambled eggs and bread, with lots of lovely fresh orange juice. That would fortify me for what was to come next.

We set out to see the catherdral. The town was still fairly quiet. We reached the market square where there were stalls selling fresh fruit, clothes and souveniers. I went to take a photo of Olaf on top of his pole, when I looked back Hubbie had bumped into Hubbie 2 and they were sitting down for a chat.

We could see the cathedral ahead of us. On our way I discovered they had put statues of Hubbie and I outside the tourist office! I don't know how they knew we were coming but there we were. We took a couple of snaps to show the folks back home because I'm sure they wouldn't believe us.

As we approached the cathedral I had an idea. I wanted to get a good shot of the catherdral. Norwegian drivers, unlike the Turks, seem to be totally law abiding. If I stood in the middle of the pedestrian crossing the cars would stop and I could take my pictures, no problem!

Entering the cathedral grounds, I was captivated by the quietness under the trees. There were several graves here and I informed Hubbie I could easily rest in peace for eternity here. "Don't tempt me," he replied.

Nidaros Cathedral appears to be Anglican. We saw a sign that told us that we could go up the central tower, for a fee of course. While I baulked at the idea of climbing up a lot of steps I wanted to see Trondheim from a height. We paid the entrance fee for both the cathedral and the tower. The next tour to go up was in half an hour. We wandered around inside. There was very little decoration in the catherdral, but the stained glass windows were beautiful. Photos and video are not allowed inside as we were reminded it is a house of God.

The bishop as three heads in his arms!

Underground was a crypt where there are some very old tombstones on display. One was erected by a Scottish shipbuilder for his brother, also a shipbuilder who dies in Norway in the 1800’s.

Then it was time for the tour. There was a health warning for anyone who had heart problems or was claustrophobic. Now I was beginning to worry! The guide called everyones attention and explained that the stairs was narrow. Anyone who might find it difficult should go last as there was no way to turn around and come back down if you got nervous or frightened halfway up. Myself and another lady immediately headed for the back of the queue. I wasn’t worried about the narrowness, I was hoping my knees and lungs wouldn’t give out.

174 steps. I didn’t realise when they said narrow, just how narrow the stairs was. I think if I was an inch wider I would have got stuck! To cut a long story short, with some puffing and panting I made it to the top.

I definitely had the wrong settings on the camera, but believe me I was lucky to be just able to press the button. It also just started to rain when we got out on the roof. It actually wasn't the climb that had scared me s***less but I was wondering how in the name of God I was going to get back down.

Well, as I’m here writing this post you can see I made it. I went down slowly, step by step, always leading with my right foot, my left hand holding the rope so tightly I thought I’d have rope burn.(there was no room anywhere for a rail).

I got down, took a few steps and decided my left leg needed to sit and rest or someone would have pick me up off the floor. My legs had turned to jelly! We sat on the nearest available seats and through the haze in front of my eyes I noticed lights come on in the organ loft. Celestial music. Had I died of a heart attack and not realised it?

Wow! We were really getting value for our money. There was a short organ recital. It was wonderful I didn’t know an organ could make so many different sounds. For the second piece two discs on the front of the organ began to spin and the music played was very light and whimsical. I have to confess to some naughtiness. Placing my finger over the lens (I didn't take any photos in the church) to I recorded the music on my latest toy, my brand new iPhone.

After the recital we bumped into Emdee and Jaydee. They had been there too. They hadn't climbed the tower nor had any intention of doing so. I could tell by how steady they were on their legs. I was in need of a strong shot of caffeine, the music was an excellent relaxant, now I was in need of a stimulant. So it was time for coffee and cake.

From there we went to the Stiftsgarden. It is the largest wooden building in Trondheim and is the official Royal Residence. Our tour guide was brimming with enthusiasm for her subject as she filled us in on the history of the building. Once upon a time, whenever they had a party in the throne room they used to tear down the wall separating the room from the garden and add a marquee. Now they just put the marquee in the garden. The wall stays in situ.

It was the wall behind this flowerbed that used to be removed.

That evening we repaired to “The Steakhouse” for a meal. The menu arrived with a card for you to fill in with your choice of steak, the size, how you wanted it cooked, any sauce if required and what side orders you wanted. It was a very effective way to order. Later there could be no misunderstandings as to how you wanted it cooked. The steaks were delicious, juicy and tender, even those that were ordered “well done” They would want to have been. At over €40 for a 7oz steak it was the dearest steak I have ever eaten.

Trondheim

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 22:51:00 +0000

We arrived into Trondheim to the rain. We had had cloudy, sunny and misty weather as we had travelled on our journey but this was the first rain. It must be following us, knowing we're Irish.

Luckily, our hotel, the Thon Gildevagen was only five minutes from the station. Emdee and Jaydee's hotel was also belonging to the Thon Group but was a little further away. Our room was small but perfectly formed. There were two comfy chairs in front of a large plasma screen TV. Hubbie was able to watch the men's singles final at Wimbledon, much to his pleasure.

Shortly after arriving in Trondheim, we went out to get a snack to keep us going until dinner time. It was still raining and Trondheim was deserted on this Sunday afternoon. It took us a while to find a coffee shop. But it was worth the wait. Hubbie had coffee and a sinful chocolate cake while I had a mixed fruit juice and cheesecake. 180kr for the pleasure, approximately €25. I should live here all the time. I would be wonderfully slim. I was full half way through my slice but at that price it would be a bigger sin to leave it. I won’t be indulging too often.

We went out to walk off the cake, but the drizzle had become rain. So we went back to the hotel. Hubbie, watched the match while I answered emails and tried to research somewhere to eat. We were meeting the others at 7pm.

Lonely Planet recommended a restaurant in the old town. Baklandet Skydsstasjon. Emdee had seen it earlier that afternoon and was happy enough to try it. We crossed the Gamle Brygge. It was wonderful to see the colourful buildings that lined the wharves.

Then we were in the old town. It was full of crooked streets lined with colourful wooden houses. My camera was out again, even though it was a dull misty evening. People who like to take photos must be a real pain in the neck. I was slowing the whole process down.

We arrived at the restaurant and it was just as described. We were seated, given menus and told to come to the counter and order when we were ready. As soon as we ordered we had to pay. Hubbie and I both tried a local dish, Baccolo. It is salted and dried codfish with potatoes in a tomato and garlic sauce, Jaydee had herrings with three different marinades, while Emdee had salmon. This was slightly overcooked, but declared the carrot cake she later shared with Jaydee to be delicious.

order and pay!

We wandered home taking the scenic route, over the old red bridge, arranging to meet the next day for lunch.

The Dovre Railway

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 21:21:00 +0000

Saturday night I was not able to sleep. A combination of a nap on Saturday afternoon and coffee after dinner. Will I ever learn? I finally went to bed as the sky was beginning to lighten at 03.30, alas not to sleep. It was sometime after 04.30 that I finally dropped off. Not for long though. The alarm rang at 06.20. It was time to pack the last few bits into the bags and head for the train station. Luckily for us, it wasn’t raining and we got there without incident

We were setting off on a six hour train journey to Trondheim, the ancient capital of Norway, the city where “the Blessing” of new Norwegian kings takes place in Nidaros Cathedral.

Due to work on the line we were bussed to Lillestrom to catch the train. Though the journey was long it was worth it. We had assigned seats, plenty of leg room and reclining seats.I decided to experiment and to try out the recliner. It went back without any difficulty. However it took me 10 minutes and the help of Hubbie and Jaydee to get it back to it's upright position. It required a "bum manoeuvre" as well as pulling a lever at the one time. Two movements at the one time......me, the co-ordination queen? Not a chance!!

Comfortable train, recliner seats, wifi, sockets to plug in laptops etc...

Next came the camera challenge. Yes, it was definitely a challenge. There were lots of photo opportunities. The train was moving quite fast. The views flashed passed the window as I tried to frame the shot. They were gone before I could click, or as I clicked a tree would appear out of nowhere and loom large in my shot. This is not accounting for the reflection from the windows opposite. Frustrating is perhaps the best word to use. You'd think Norwegian Railways knowing I was on board with my camera, would have trimmed the trees, slowed the train and of course made sure the windows are spotless just so I could take photos. My brother text me and suggested I should pull the emergency brake every time I wanted to take a shot.

I snapped away deleting more than I kept. But I had met my match. Jaydee is as bad or worse than me. We must have driven our respective partners crazy. At least I had the window seat. Jaydee was in the aisle seat and had to twist around Emdee to get the shot.

We climbed to the highest point on the journey. The landscape changed from forest to low scrub and moss. In July there were still traces of snow on the mountains. The temperature had dropped from 20C to 14C. Then we began our descent into Trondheim.

All the way, the land was dotted with pretty houses, painted either red, ochre, grey or white. What amazed me, probably because apart for our first day we've had rain since we’ve arrived, is that most all the houses had either balconies or a deck area with barbeques and seating.. I wonder if they ever get a chance to use them?

One of the pretty railway stations.

A Rainy Day in Oslo.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:34:00 +0000

Last night, two of our friends arrived to join us on our Norwegian adventure. Emdee and I have known each other since our secondary school days. We also went to the same college and she was my bridesmaid 31 years ago. She also married and has two sons, We recently attended No.1 sons wedding. A wonderful day.

We remained friends over the years, meeting up whenever we have had a chance. Sometimes with life so busy, it has not been often enough. Now we have the chance to spend two weeks together. Unfortunately for Emdee, the day before coming ,she came down with a throat infection. They almost decided not to come but now the antibiotics have started to kick in and she is not quite so miserable.

So we had a late night last night waiting for them to arrive and naturally once they got here we began to chat. Her hubbie has recently retired. I am looking forward to finding out how he finds retirement and fills his days. I plan to retire this time next year. Just think, I have 183 more work days! My principal says he imagines I will have a calendar on the wall crossing off the days beginning in September.. I think it is more likely he will be the one crossing them off!!

Anyway, I digress. We woke up this morning to rain. Hubbie and I had planned to go to Vigeland Sculpture Park. We had deferred it yesterday due to aching feet. Alas, today it was not to be either. I woke at 8.30but on hearing the rain I let Hubbie sleep on. By the time he woke an hour later it was raining more heavily. He rolled over to get his second sleep.

So another late, chatty breakfast was on the menu for the morning. The rain had eased off, so we set out for the train station to pick up the tickets I had booked online three months earlier. NSB releases a certain number of discounted tickets three months in advance of departure so a ticket that would normally cost €125 can be bought for €29-40

We picked up our tickets. There are works on the line so the first part of the journey to Lillehammer will be by bus and then we begin a six hour train journey on the Dovre Railway. According to the NSB website the train runs "through the stunning Norwegian scenery of the Dovrefjell. A new challenge for me and my camera. Can I take shots of the landscape from a moving train?

When I noticed we had five minutes to change from the bus to the train, I began to feel slightly anxious. If anything goes wrong not only be Hubbie and I be seriously out of pocket but also Emdee and her hubbie too. The booking conditions say that unless you leave 60 minutes transfer time in case of delay your ticket will not be refunded!

I began to tot up what had to be done in 5 minutes......get off the bus, gather the bags, find the platform. I broke out in a sweat. I mentioned it to the girl at the desk and she was unconcerned. She said it was no problem. The bus is to meet the train. Well, I'll breathe easy when I'm sitting on the train.

So with the tickets sorted for the moring , we checked from where the bus departs. Platform 19. We also got the number of Oslo taxis. There are thunder storms forcast for the morning. The station is only a 15 minute walk but that could be very unpleasant in the rain.

We emerged from the station to find ourselves beside the Opera House. The roof of the building angles to the ground, creating a large area, inviting people to walk up and admire the view out over Oslo. It is made of white granite and Italian marble and amazingly was not slippy to walk upon in the wet. Some of the areas are skateboard friendly while others, near the performance areas are stepped to discourage this. Norwegians seem to have a wonderful relaxed attitude to their public spaces. A sunny days finds the locals skateboarding or sitting on the roof sunbathing. It is wonderful to see people being able to fully enjoy their surroundings. I have also noticed Norwwegians resemble us Irish in a particular way. (I know, we share some of those Viking genes) When crossing the road, they don't wait for the "little green man" If there is nothing coming, they cross. This is the complete opposite of our experience in Germany, where, even if there is no traffic at all, people always wait for the "green man."

The Opera House

Several interior and exterior artworks were commissioned with the building of the Opera House. One of the most notable is "She Lies." It is a sculpture made of stainless steel and glass, on a concrete platform in the fjord beside the Opera House. It floats there and with the winds and tides it shows an ever changing face to the public.

"She Lies"

This gives an idea of scale.

Unfortunately as we walked to the top of the roof it began to rain quite heavily again.We decided to abandon our plan to vist Akerhaus Fortress and to call it a day. It gives us good reason to return again. There are several places we planned to visit but did not have the time. We are paying for those long breakfasts now. We had a nun teaching us in our final years in primary school. She would have called us sugar lumps today (afraid of melting) for not wanting to walk around in the rain.

Oslo, seen from the roof of the Opera House.

So we had a long lazy afternoon. We decide to go out for something to eat and without realising, ended up in an Indian restaurant. We had a lovely meal and then returned to pack our bags for the morning. 06.30 seems like an indecent time to be getting up on holiday. I hope the train journey will be worth it.

Because I slept a little this afternoon I'm wide awake now and looking out at the bridge lit up at night. The following photos I took with my phone the night we arrived. It has been a relaxing few days. Oslo, in spite of a lot of construction going on around us is a beautiful city and I would certainly like to return sometime. Renting the apartment has worked out well, the location excellent, the price reasonable and I always love to have my own space.

View from our balcony, The green is part of the building, not a protective covering.

The bridge at night.

There is a lot of construction going on in this area. It will be the new financial district.

Farmers and Sailors!

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 23:26:00 +0000

This was our first full day in Oslo. It got off to a lazy start, as we planned what to do, over breakfast. I wanted to see Vigeland Sculpture Park and we also wanted to visit the museums on the Bygdoy Peninsula.

We decided to go to the tourist information office near the main train station and ask the best way to get from one place to another. The offıce runs on a ticket system. We worked out how to get our ticket and waited our turn. The girl who dealt with us was extremely helpful and using a map outlined the different ways to travel, bus, tram or ferry. She also recommended the 24 hour public transport ticket at the cost of 75 kroner. This proved to be extremely good value as the ferry alone was 50 kr. Hubbie surprised me by electing to go by ferry. He goes green just at the mention of a boat. But the ferry would only take 15 minutes. We had to take the No. 12 tram from outside tourist information to take us to the harbour area of Aker Brygge. From there we would catch the ferry. We did well, found it left from Platform B. We went and waited.....and waited. No tram. We eventually noticed a sign that told us, due to roadworks our tram was going from Platform F. It's just a well we decided to make these a relaxed few days. We were now about 3 hours behind my original schedule.

We'd found our way, now Hubbie checks the time of the next ferry.

Next, to the ferry. While waiting we were approached by two men, each given a bar of chocolate and a leaflet, explaining that this was because we were celebrating the Dalai Lama's birthday today.

The ferry? No, not this one

This one.

We boarded the ferry and in no time at all we reached our destination. There was a "toy" train if we wished to take it to the musuems but we elected to walk. Better for our health and our pocket! On our way we passed some beautiful houses. This area must be like Ailesbury or Shrewsbury Road in Dublin, the dearest roads on the Monopoly Board!

Beautiful houses on the Bygdoy Peninsula

Most of them were white.

.....with a few exceptions

We arrived at our first stop, the Norwegian Folk and Culture Museum. You could easily allocate a whole day to spend here. It is an outdoor musuem. They have brought over 140 buildings from all over Norway, mainly from the 17th and 18th centuries, and reconstructed them here, according to region.

A typical farm.

I can't get away from it...........the schoolhouse!

An outdoor theatre

A signpost.

The Presbytery Garden

The grass roof covered in wildflowers was prevalent.

A storeroom

A farmhouse built in the 1800's and modernised inside in the 1950's

Part of the barn and farmyard.

Does anyone remember these tractors?

Of course it wouldn't be a farm without livestock.

Fancy washing the clothes in this machine?

Going back in time again. A guest house from the 1800's. Inside all the walls and ceilings were painted in a rose design. This is now preserved behind glass

The Gamlebyn, the Old Town is a reproduction of an early 20th century Norwegian town.

The Old Town

A street in the Old Town

But it was this old garage that really caught our fancy.

This transports us back in time!

The most impressive building for me was the Stave Church, built around 1200 and shifted to Bygday in 1885. These churches are named for their vertical supporting posts and are also noted for their detailed carved designs, dragon headed gables, like the prow of the Viking ships and their beautiful almost Asian forms.

Gateway to the Stave Church

Stave Church

The entrance.

Finer Detail

The dragon heads and elaborate carving

The inside is very dark. This is some of the detail inside.

As the day moved on we decided there was only time to visit the Viking Ship Museum and we would leave the Sculpture Park until tomorrow. Aching feet, flat camera battery (my head is really bad these days, two spare batteries were in the apartment) and once again, no tripod. I hadn't thought I'd lug it around the city, this meant I was struggling with trying to find a setting to deal with burned out skies. Sometimes I despair of ever learning to find my way around this camera.

The Viking Ship Museum

The museum though small is impressive. It holds the Viking ships Gokstad and Oseberg as well as a few boards of the Tune. They were built in the 9th century and later pulled ashore and used as tombs for nobility. It is mindboggling to think of the seafaring skills of these sailors as they sailed all the way down to the Mediterranean. Off course, they stopped off in Ireland, plundering, trading, settling and leaving a large number of their genes behind them.

Oseberg

The remains of the Tune

The Oseberg from floor level

Reproduction of the prow.

Cart found buried on the ship

Prow

Yet another one.

We had one last task for the day. Hubbie had to buy a new cap. He forgot to pack his and the sun is not kind to his receding hairline!

Hubbie's Viking cap.

Cilgin Kiz Heads for Cooler Climes!

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Thu, 05 Jul 2012 21:39:00 +0000

Today our Norwegian adventures began. The planning that began a year ago is finally coming to fruition. Yesterday, while packing my suitcase, I received a text from SAS telling me that I could now check in online.Thank God for the text! Our flight was two hours earlier than originally scheduled. Hubbie was doubly grateful because the seats in the emergency exit row were free. No, he didn't want to bail out midway, he had room to stretch out his long legs.

I was amazed when we were leaving the bags at the bag drop in the airport. My case came in under 20kg. Now that was a surprise. Packing had been bit of a nightmare. We have come for almost 4 weeks and have been told by one of our house swop families to expect anything from 30C to 10C and "sideways" rain.

We landed to beautiful sunshine and 23C. This was a real bonus. We have had so much rain at home and looking at the temperatures in Bodrum, I sometimes wondered why we decided to come to Norway. But weather isn't everything and I've been promised a photgraphers paradise. I'm told they say in Norway "There is no such thing as wrong weather only the wrong clothes"

We took the Flybussen into the central bus station where we were met by Jan, the owner of the apartment we have rented for three days. We were literally 2 minutes walk from the apartment. He took time to show us everything, invited us to use the basic supplies in his kitchen....but not all please .....and then recommended some of the sights to be seen in the next couple of days. A warm welcome indeed.

We caught our breath and sat on our balcony drinking coffee - or water in my case. As it was late afternoon we set out for a short wander, to find our bearings. Outside the main train station, we stopped to look at our map and a lovely lady asked if she could help. We explained we had just arrived and were not looking for anywhere in particular. She directed us to Karl Johans Gate, a long street, part pedestrianised that leads in a long straight line up to the Royal Palace. She said it was the most beautiful street in the city. I didn't have my good camera with me as we were just out for a short stroll but these photos taken with my compact will give you an idea of the area.

One of the beautiful buildings that line Karl Johans Gate

Hubbie studies the street map, The Grand Hotel is in the background

One of the many fountains. I was regretting not bringing my Olympus Pen to slow the shutter speed.

Bird brained? Feather headed? .....Oh Crap!

The palace is surrounded by parkland, open to the public. In this it is unique in Europe. But what a delight, rolling lawns, ponds and beautiful mature trees. People were just sitting here and there on the benches or on the grass enjoying the late evening sunshine. No "Keep off the grass" signs here.

The Royal Palace

Guard Duty

The Palace Gardens are open to all

Yet another pond

Hubbie allowed into a picture for once

Peace and tranquility in the city centre.

Looking back down Karl Johans Gate from the Palace

Taking this I lamented I'd left my tripod back at the apartment.

After that it was time to head back and get something to eat. Now there was the ouch. €47 for a pizza, meatballs, coke and a glass of water. And we thought Ireland was expensive! Oslo is in the top ten most expensive cities in the world. This holiday could be very good for my figure!!

What to wish on your worst enemy!

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:19:00 +0000

Well, you have all heard the phrase "I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy" So what would you wish on them? I discovered the answer to this question during a school trip to Seville at the end of January this year.

I travelled with a young colleague Vee (she was in secondary school with my youngest daughter). We were to spend five days with our partner schools in Seville. We flew to Malaga and then took the train the rest of the way.

I had a nagging toothache and assumed I was in for a bout of sinusitis, triggered by the flight. It is something I suffer from regularly "It's the problem of having a long narrow nose" says my doctor. So I headed for the nearest pharmacy. Perhaps it was the language barrier, but I couldn't get my usual Nurofen + (It has codeine), it is what works best for me. All I could get was paracetemol and a saline nasal wash. Now I won't get into that but it isn't fun!

I didn't have time to be sick! I'm project co-ordinator, there were blue skies to be enjoyed and the fun of meeting up with friends made on previous trips. A real bonus in January.

The paracetemol was useless. It was like eating smarties. After a sleepless night, the school principal gave me ibuprofen. This was more like it I thought but each dose only gave me about an hours relief at most. I will admit to taking more than the recommended dosage. What can I say? I'm like a baby when it comes to toothache. I rather go through childbirth anytime! I gave birth to a 5.5kg baby and it didn't knock a feather out of me.

Travelling into the centre of Seville on the metro, I was desperately looking at the waste bins in the stations. Would I be able to jump off in time and be sick into one of them if necessary? I could have gone back to the hotel but that would have meant missing out on the horse carriage ride around the city. I needn't have worried.. It's like being out with boy scouts. Their motto "Be prepared" Jane, the English principal spotted me looking green and asked was I ok. I shook my head. She calls out, anyone got a plastic bag for Mary? What can I say, we were on a school trip, with a group of teachers! One was produced in seconds. I managed not to "toss my cookies" I spared myself that indignity. Once I got out into the fresh air I felt much better and the palace and the carriage ride was worth the trip. Photos of that later!

The pain was getting worse instead of better and no matter how much pain relief I took it didn't build up in my system, Maybe it was an abscess. With a full programme, there was no time to see a dentist in Spain. I rang home on Friday and asked Hubbie to make a dental appointment for me on Monday after I got home. If I had a time, it would give me something to cling on to. This dreadful pain would end. But I was out of luck, the dental surgery closed early on Friday. I would have to ring Monday morning.

In the meantime, one of the English teachers had had a kidney stone the previous week and she had some strong painkillers leftover. She swore by them and insisted I take them. She slept through the night after taking them. I was becoming a real druggie. I got an hour and a half's sleep!

The next morning I had a hot shower and soon after I began to feel some relief. I was back to self diagnosing again. Sinusitis. An abscess wouldn't ease. To make a long story short, I got home on Sunday evening, weepy and exhausted but glad to see my own bed and my Nurofen Plus. Monday morning I got up and went to school. I felt so washed out at the end of the day I decided to go to the doctor and see if he would give me a cert for a couple of days.

I told him I thought I had sinusitis again and described my symptoms. The worst was over now I thought I was told to open up. He noticed some blisters on the roof of my mouth. Yes I told him, I had some mouth ulcers they had appeared the previous day. Not mouth ulcers I was told, intra oral shingles. Ha! drama queen strikes again. Everyone else gets "normal" shingles on their body. I get "atypical" shingles in my mouth. I think maybe God was trying to tell me to shut up!

Anyway, I spent the next two and a half months out of work. The shingles cleared but I was left with post herpetic neuralgia and the drugs to cure that were almost worse than the pain leaving me dizzy and feeling lightheaded. But at least I now had an official reason to be an airhead. Thankfully, all of this has now passed. I'm back to work and while I still tire more easily than I used I feel my energy returning.

So now I know what I would wish on my worst enemy, the shingles. It's not life threatening - so I don't haveto have major guilt issues - but it will make them uncomfortable for quite a period of time! What would you wish on your worst enemy?

New Beginnings.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 03 Jun 2012 07:00:00 +0000

I've decided it's time to break my duck egg. I haven't posted here for a long time. I haven't had writers block. It has crossed my mind on a few occasions to post, to share some of the sillier things that are going on in my life but I could not seem to summon either the energy or the interest.

Over the past six months I have spent far less time on the internet and a lot more time reading books. I have always read, I used to read at a fast and furious pace, if on holidays I read a book in a day and a half at most, but once I started blogging I read far less novels as most of my spare time was devoted to blog reading. I loved the peek into other peoples lives but at the same time missing the complete immersion into the lives of fictional characters that good novel brings.

There were several reasons for me forsaking my blog, the main one being too much going on in my personal life that I would not blog about. 2012 has not been a good year for me and yet it has brought many treasurable moments with it.

One of the main factors for not returning to blogging was the time element. Not the time it took to write a post but the time involved in reading others posts. I felt guilt in not reading other blogs I followed. It seemed so wrong in not getting around to reading everyone else's post. The struggle for balance was difficult and ongoing. Like most other people these days I struggle to balance time, time for family, time for work and time for myself.

But as the urge to set down the stories - of raging toothache in Seville, a warning to others about crossing a crazy Irishwoman, what happens when you push a car downhill at night, achieving film star status in Turkey and bringing together friends old and new - gets stronger I have decided to return to blogging as I began.....for my own amusement.

I have decided to start writing again, to tell my stories, for me. I also hope to get back to my blog reading but in moderation. First things first. It's time to hit the keyboard.

Robert Fulghum on St Valentine's Day

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 10:28:00 +0000

Robert Fulghum is an American author, mainly of short essays. I first came across his work in the piece he wrote All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Last year when looking for a book as a Christmas gift for a bookclub friend I found him again. He has written a novel Third Wish, the theme of which is "slowly, witness, surprise" It is a long book, it comes in two volumes an absolutely wonderful read.
He writes an online journal Robert Fulghum The following is a piece he wrote following Valentines Day last year. It is so full of wisdom that I thought I'd share it .

"The setting: A small café at midday on February 15.
Three young women are doing what men never do.
They are sharing salads and secrets at lunchtime.
It is the day after what they refer to as “St. ‘Tine’s Day.”
And they have been forked.

And I, sitting at the next table alone, can’t ignore their conversation.
In summary, none of them got what they wanted or expected.
Valentine’s Day was a bummer.
Wrong flowers, wrong chocolate, wrong food, chintzy gifts.
And no mention of what they gave or did themselves.
I didn’t offer my opinion, but if I had, here’s what I would have said:

“Take a look at me.
It’s clear that I’ve been around awhile, right?
I’ve been a contestant in several love rodeos in my time.
I have the scars and trophies to prove it.

Here’s what I know now:
Call the list “Fulghum’s Eight Maxims on Giving and Getting Love:”
1. Love cannot be forced or bought.
2. You can only get from another person the love they are able and willing to give in the form they can give it in.
3. You cannot get from another person the love you demand and need in the form you wish.

4. If what they have to give is what you want, then love works.
If not, it doesn’t and won’t.
5. If you concentrate on getting love, there will never be enough.
6. If you concentrate on giving love, there will always be enough.

7. Most people need the most love when they are the most unlovable.
That includes you. And me.
8. Finally, love is not a present you give or get, but something you do.

If that seems like a solemn list, that’s because it’s meant to be.
I take love seriously.
And I tell you that if you never understand these maxims, then all the chocolate you ever receive on Valentine’s Day will be dark and bitter.”

Robert Fulghum

So how is your chocolate this St. Valentine's Day?

Turkish Meze

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 16:39:00 +0000

Over the millenia Turkey has been a crossroads with many different civilizations including Hittites, Romans and Bzyantines fighting for its rich and fertiles soils, In the 6th century tribes of Turkish origin migrated west from central Asia and Mongolia. In the 15th century many of the Turkish tribes came together to form the new Ottoman Empire.

Turkish cuisine today reflects this cultural heritage. It lays emphasis on seasonal freshness. I have found that while in Bodrum, even in the large supermarkets , if it is not in season I cannot buy it.

One of the delights of Turkish cuisine is Meze. Meze, like Spanish tapas, are lots of little things. Now served in restaurants as an entree they consist of appetisers, dips and salads. The word meze, originally from the Persian word mesaq means "taste, flavour snack, relish"

Here are a few of the recipes I used for the meze I cooked for my book club recently.

Acı Domates Ezmesi - Crushed Chilli and Tomato Dip.
Serves 4-6
Ingredients.
6 tomatoes, peeled and finely chopped
1 small cucumber, grated

1 green pepper, finely chopped
4 spring onions , finely chopped
6 garlic cloves crushed
grated lemon rind
Juice of half a lemon or 1tbs of sour pomegranate syrup
1tsp paprika paste
1 tbs olive oil
2 tbs tomato paste
handful of each of chopped fresh parsley, and mint ( 1 tsp of dried mint if fresh unavailable)
1/2 tsp sugar
salt and black pepper to taste.

Method
Place tomatoes and cucumber in a sieve, sprinkle with a little salt and leave to drain for half an hour. Combine all the ingredients and give quick blitz in a blender taking care not to over pulverize. Chill and serve with fresh crusty bread.

Haydarı - Mint and Yogurt Dip

Serves 4-6
4 cups thick strained yogurt
4 cloves garlic crushed
4 tbs finely chopped mint (1 tbs dried mint) dill can be used instead or a combination of both.
1 cucumber grated and drained
squeeze of lemon juice.

Method
Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Chill. To serve, place on a plate, garnish with fresh mint leaves, pour a little extra virgin olive oil on top and sprinkle with crushed chilli flakes. Serve with fresh crusty bread.

Pancar Ezme - Beetroot Dip.
4 cooked Beetroot
1 tbs chopped dill
1-2 cloves garlic
1 cup thick natural yogurt
2 tbs extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp crushed black pepper

Method.
Puree beets and garlic. Mix all ingredients in a bowl with a spoon. Place in a serving dish and serve with fresh bread.

Sarımsaklı Kozlenmıs Kırmızı Biber - Roasted Red Peppers with Garlic.
3 red bell peppers

Sauce
2-3 garlic cloves crushed
1 tbs cider vinegar
4 tbs extra virgin olive oil

Method
Prepare the peppers, cut in half, remove tops and seeds. Place under the grill for 15 mins approx. In the meantime whisk the ingredients for the sauce.
Remove the skin from the peppers. Slice them in large chunks. Place on a serving plate, Pour sauce over and garnish with some finely chopped parsley.

Fırında Nar Eksili Soğan - Roasted Onion with Pomegranate Paste

Red onion cut into 4-6 chunks.
Salt and pepper.
Pomegranate paste.

Preheat the oven to 200C/ 400F
Place the onion on an earthenware dish. season with salt and pepper. Drizzle some pomegranate paste over them. Place in the middle of the oven and cook until the onion is tender.

Kısır Salad - Spicy Bulgur Wheat Salad
2 cups fine bulgur wheat
11/2 cups boiling water
1tbs tomato paste
2 tsp paprika paste
1 tsp paprika flakes
1/2 tsp cumin
1 tsp salt
1 tbs sur pomegranate paste or juice of 1/2 lemon
4 tbs olive oil
4 spring onions, finely chopped
3 tomatoes, peeled and finely chopped
handful of finely chopped parsley,
handful of finely chopped mint
freshly ground black pepper.
lettuce leaves to serve
lemon wedges to squeeze over

Put the bulgur in a bowl and add the boiling water. Leave to stand for 20 min. Most of the water should be absorbed. Drain and squeeze out any excess water if necessary. The bulgur should be of a dry consistency.

Stir in the tomato and red pepper pastes, paprika flakes, cumin, salt and pepper and knead thoroughly. Add the pomegranate paste together with the olive oil and knead well again. Stir in the remaining ingredients and combine well. Refrigerate until required.
To serve, take spoonfuls and place in individual lettuce leaves. Garnish with lemon wedges to squeeze over.

Sigara Böreği - Crispy Cheese and Herb Filled Pastry Rolls
2 sheets yufka/filo pastry
225gr soft white Turkish cheese e.g. Lor / feta cheese.
2 egg yolks
1 cup chopped parsley, mint and dill.
salt and black pepper to taste.
Sunflower oil for cooking.

Method.
Mix together the cheese, egg yolks and herbs to form a smooth paste. Season with salt and pepper.

Yufka, a Turkish pastry, comes in large circular sheets. Place on sheet on top of the other and cut the sheets into eights forming 16 elongated triangles.(If using filo cut into 16 elongated rectangles)
Take one triangle, place a generous tsp of the cheese mixture at the wider end.
Fold the pastry from each side to seal in the mixture and then roll up tightly like a cigar. Wet the end with water and seal. Do the same for the rest of the triangles, keeping the finished ones covered with a damp cloth to prevent the pastry drying out. Refrigerate until required.
Heat the sunflower oil i a shallow pan and fry the cheese rolls over a medium heat until golden brown and crispy. Alternatively brush with oil and place in a pre-heated oven at 180C and bake for 20 mins.

As usual, I forgot to take photos of what I had cooked so I found these pictures on the net. Most of the recipes I used come from either Angie Mitchell's Secrets of a Turkish Kitchen or from Binnur's Turkish Cookbook.

They went down a treat, with the Crushed Chilli and Tomato Dip being the favourite. Main course will be next. Do you have a favourite recipe you would like to share?

The Book Club Comes to Dine.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 11:53:00 +0000

January was shaping up to be a busy month. I did not have a free weekend. Last weekend I was hauling myself and my camera equipment around Kerry. This weekend would still be busy but in a very different way.

It was my turn to host our book club. As I've explained before it is not like most book clubs, This one is all female, most mums of young children. I've been there done that and bought the tee-shirt four times, I'm like the granny of the group. We meet once a month, taking turns to host it in each others houses, for a full three course (four if you include the coffee) meal. After the meal we discuss the book.... maybe. It is a wonderful social evening and sometimes it even introduces us to good books.

Of course, being me, having everyone to dinner would be too simple. The date was arranged as it was the only Saturday evening I had free in January. It just happened that my Turkish class in Dublin was that morning, a 200km round trip.

I love to cook but usually just stick to the same old things, time contraints and a family with unadventurous taste buds. With this in mind I had decided to give reign to my inner chef and prepare a feast.

My starters would be a spread of Turkish meze. I had spent weeks looking through my cookery books and trawling the internet for recipes. I eventually came up with a spicy tomato salsa, cheese rolls, beetroot with yogurt and garlic, kisir salad made with fine Bulgur wheat, haydarı which is the Turkish version of Greek tzatziki, made wıth yogurt, cucumber mint and garlic, roasted red onions with sour pomegranite sauce and roasted peppers with olive oil and garlic. Yes, the Turks love their garlic. Some of these I had never prepared before, but then I always love a challenge.

Main course would be my signature dish, Chicken with Plum Ginger and Soya. It comes from the Avoca Cookery book. Once you have eaten this in my house you can't be invited for a meal again as I do not have a follow up dish. I had thought of cooking a Turkish main course, again not tried it before but decided to play it safe because of time constraints.

Last but not least would be Pavlova with fresh fruit salad and homemade raspberry ice-cream. This would probably take the most preparation time. Cutting up all that fruit into small pieces. But it is tasty. I don't use a sugar syrup, I use fresh orange and lemon juice.

I got up at eight, headed for Dublin and arrived in time for my 10.00 a.m class. The first part of the class was conversation so it was a nice way to catch up with my classmates. There are just four of us and it makes the three hour session intense but we are learning. I just have to remember to learn how to say the time before the next class. It keeps slipping my mind and I keep getting asked.

I got home at 4pm to continue preparing the meal, having stopped at the Avoca Shop in Kilmacanogue for their lovely cheese bread. I was also hoping for some gluten free bread as one of my guests is Coeliac, another has a nut allergy. No luck, they were out. I would just have to use the gluten free rolls I had got the previous day.

I had done a lot of the preparation in advance. Hubbie and No.1 daughter had cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, the only parts of the house my guests will see. So, in spite of the trip to Dublin, the prep went smoothly. Hubbie was surprised that I was so relaxed. But I was doing what I loved.....cooking for others.

8.30 arrived and so did my guests. They were complimentary of my directions....I had measured the distances the previous week....turn left drive 2.3km. etc. I really am going to have to learn to be brief.

Fee had brought a new member. We looked at each other in instant recognition. She is also a primary school teacher. I met her doing a course last year.

The meal? What can I say, my Turkish meze went down a treat. They want to have my next turn at hosting in Bodrum. No problem as far as I'm concerned. Main course was also a hit but paled into insignificance when the homemade ice-cream hit the table. Next time Aldi gets in a supply of ice cream makers there will be a queue outside to buy.

The book? Julian Barnes "Sense of an Ending" It won the Man Booker Prize. It was an easier read than many of the other Booker prize winners but there was only one winner this night......my food.

I'll post some of the recipes later in the week.

Day 2 Photography Workshop

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 22:59:00 +0000

Sunday morning dawned wet and dreary. I managed to haul my aching body out of the bed and downstairs to breakfast. I decided to fortify myself this morning with the "full Irish" It was not a wise move, as full of rashers, egg and sausage, the thought of crawling back into bed rather than scrambling around in the rain, was much more appealing.However Tutor Michael turned up at 09.00 as promised and he had a plan!

He decided we would go to Crag Cave in Castleisland, the rain would not stop us underground. As I was going to visit my brother that evening in Fossa, I was to drive my car as far as Killorglin and we would travel on from there together. Hoping I was going to be following a Formula 1 driver on the narrow twisty roads, I se out to follow the 2 Michaels. I needn't have worried, I was able to keep up.

Crag Cave

We arrived at the cave, we could only enter it as part of a guided tour. We were a little early so there was time for a nice big cappuccino while we were waiting. My knee was bothering me from the fall yesterday but I was doing my best to hide it, My biggest problem was that I couldn't put weight on it to get out of the car. When the others weren't looking I would grab it with my hands and lift it out. Once I got going I was fine.

The tour began and we were given the background information. It was discovered in 1983 and is thought to be over a million years old. When it was first discovered the only entrance was through a flooded passageway. This is a 24 ft tube, it goes down 12ft under a shelf in the rock and up 12ft into another cavern and it was from this cavern that it was first discovered.

Surprisingly, the entrance lay behind a locked metal door. It could have been the door to the garden shed. No wonder I have a fascination with doors. You never know what lies behind them. We were warned that the steps down into the cave were slippy and the two Michaels were at pains to make sure I got the message. Hauling me up once, was enough for them!

So struggling with the tripod again, I finally got set up, ISO was changed and we were taking photos again. We didn't have a lot of time as there was another couple on the tour and at the end, the guide was anxious to get back. She was only supposed to be underground for a certain length of time, she had to be back to work above ground again.

Tutor Michael enquired of other places of interest locally , and she told him of a viewing point and a River walk complete with castle. We found the viewing point with no difficulty but to be honest that day there was not much to see.. Tall Michael didn't get out of the car but Tutor Michael wanted to see if I had learned anything yesterday and could I reset the camera myself. Exam time..... score!! I got it right. He is a good teacher because I'm a slow learner.

The clouds were the most interesting thing to be seen, maybe it is nicer on a sunny day.

We then went back to the river walk in Castleisland. The guide earlier had told us we could see a castle there. We found the castle but it seemed to be in someones back garden and there was no way to access it or even get near it, in spite of walking around the block. They were all terrace houses and the castle was at the back! Imagine having a famous monument and only being able to get a glimpse of it . So what was there left to do but to repair to the pub for lunch.

Time for some close up work, the colours and patterns in the rocks were amazing.

The weather had cleared a little so it was decided that once again I would follow the two boys to the Gap of Dunloe. I would be passing by my brothers front door. Tempting! It was still very windy with the occasional showers .Did you know that the weather is the main topic of conversation in Ireland? I had kind of lost the will....but off we went again.

The Gap of Dunloe, complete with horses

I'mplaying with Lightroom for the first time, please bear with me.

This is a truly beautiful part of the country, our Turkish friend told us when he visited last year it is how he imagines heaven.

Close up work again.

We drove right through the Gap until we were looking down on the Black Valley. Finally, the light gone we turned back.

Late evening, looking back over the lakes of Killarney

The Black Valley This photo was taken when most people would have put their cameras away because it was getting dark.

But you couldn't go through the Gap without stopping at Kate Kearneys Cottage, another pub. You'd think we were hardened drinkers, but 2 coffees and a soda water soon gave this the lie.

We parted on great terms and hopefully we'll meet next June. Tutor Michael wants to photograph the birds on the Saltee Islands. I feel I learned so much this weekend in a relaxed stress free manner. In addition, I truly enjoyed the company of my two Michaels and the gorgeous Eva.

I headed back to the brothers. Dinner was ready. How lucky am I, he is a chef and a good one. We spent half the night and the next morning talking before I set out for home. He was heading to Chile for a birthday party the following weekend. Cilgin Kiz has a Cilgin brother and she is very jealous of his trip.

Photography Workshop

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 16:02:00 +0000

On arrival in Portmagee I rang Michael to tell him I had arrived. He arranged to meet me in The Bridge Inn in a short while as I wanted to check into the B&B first.I was given a warm welcome and was just dropping my bags when I heard male voices below. It was Michael and the other "student" come to collect me.

We headed for the pub. What else do you do in Ireland? My fellow student was also called Michael and he too was German. He had flown in from Germany that morning especially for the workshop. And I thought I was mad, driving 5 hours from one side of the country to the other! He was so tall I'm sure he was experiencing a different climate up there. I tentatively asked if he was taking photographs for long. The answer.....since he was 15! So not a beginner then. Tutor Michael informed me that yes, he was advanced . He had been here last year to do another workshop with him. No pressure Mary!! Why do I do these things to myself????

In fact ,the next morning, Tall Michael tells me he likes to do his own thing. Tutor Michael drives him around and he just asks for advice now and then. What do you know? One to one tuition, there's going to be no hiding in the back row for me.
At least it was not raining yet, though it is windy and cold. Means I've got to wear that old waterproof jacket that has a mean and nasty habit of not wanting to zip up on me. I've expanded somewhat in recent years! I have a nice comfy jacket on the back seat but it won't keep the rain out so it's suck in and off we go.
Well, that was the end of my nervousness. Once Tutor Michael had established that I really was a novice when it came to my cameras settings, he set to work. The first thing he had me change was to shoot in RAW. And then it was the tripod!! Dear God, it took me longer to figure out how to use that, than the camera. Who knew that a tripod could move in so many different ways. If I could move in the same way, I'd be a whizz on the dance floor.

My first photo of the day

And this was behind me.

Anyway, the lessons began. I learned to set the camera. Aperture and shutter settings slowly began to make sense. The West of Ireland is truly beautiful, the changing light meant I needed to keep shooting. I'm a little trigger happy, I know.

We visited many different locations, among them Cill Rialaig. This is an artists village, created from restored pre famine houses on Bolus Head. Artists, in many disciplines, apply for residency here. It gives them an opportunity to escape from everyday pressures to focus on their art. How they could not be inspired here, is unimaginable.

One of the restored cottages at Cill Rialaig.

One of the artists in residence.

Looking out to sea at Cill Rialaig.

Early morning at the beach......where's my tour guide now when I've forgotten the name of it?

And behind us......

Into the sun....

The waves come rolling in

.....and go out again

The rock pools.

A small stream

Moving on...

The Skelligs

We also paid a short visit to Ballinskelligs beach where I had a chat with one of the locals in Irish once he discovered I was a múinteoir (teacher) I think it would have been easier for me to talk in Turkish as it is the first thing to comes to the tip of my tongue when not speaking English.

Ballinskelligs Beach

Lunch was in a small cafe in Waterville, a place that Charlie Chaplin visited regularly on holiday....you learn something new everyday. Tutor Michael complains that many tourist stop to take photos of the statue of Charlie and don't see the wonderful natural beauty in front of them.

Waterville beach

The sun breaks through...

........and continues to move like a spotlight.

There followed an afternoon of taking more photographs. The changing light was truly amazing and no two photographs taken within seconds of each other were the same. I looked forward to seeing them on the computer. It is hard to judge from the small screen on camera.

The light breaks through the cloud.

Beam me up Scotty!!

We went to visit Staigue Fort, the ruins of a stone ring fort, probably dating from the 1st century B.C. Inside the fort are seven healing stones, each related to a different part of the body. If you stand on each stone for a certain number of minutes, and repeat this over a number of days it is reputed to bring healing. Tutor Michael, though German, knows more about the locality than many of the natives. If he ever gives up photography he would make an excellent tour guide.
What caught his eye was a small stream and waterfall. So we headed off over the slippery grass to take photos. We clambered down a slippy bank and scrambled through a thorny thicket. Tall Michael got down into the stream, well his tripod was in the stream while Tutor Michael set up the tripod for me. I declared myself a wimp and told him I would watch from my position of safety. Given my penchant for falling they would be pulling me out of the stream so I can't claim these photos to be mine......but I do know how to take them now. In spite of my carefulness, I managed to fall up the bank on the way back to the car. It wasn't too embarrassing, just two very muddy knees.

The whorl here just appeared as little eddies to the naked eye. Slowing down the shutter speed the magic appeared.

Our final assignment of the day was taking photos during the blue hour. I was asked did I know what this was. I thought it had something to do with late evening. I wasn't far off. It is the time just after the sun drops below the horizon. So it was back to Waterville beach. The rocky part. So I'm carrying the tripod, camera bag on my back and camera around my neck and we are scrambling over rocks to the shore. There was only one problem ....seaweed!! It was wet and very slippy, you guessed it. Down I went, like a ton of bricks. It took the two Michael's to haul me back up again. I'm glad it was the blue hour, it counterbalanced the red of my face. Once they checked I could stand, their immediate concern was for my camera. I would mend but the camera might not. I gave it a shake, luckily there was no nasty rattle. I regained my equilibrium and thanks to the tripod there was no noticeable shake when I took the following photos.

The "blue hour" at Waterville Beach

The lights of Ballinskelligs in the distance.

It was with relief we reached terra firma again. I was tired but had had a wonderful day. Thanks to Tutor Michael's relaxed attitude, I hadn't felt under any pressure or stress and in addition, felt I had learned a lot. I'm more comfortable with my camera now. I had missed the simplicity of my compact ultra zoom, not the new camera's fault, simply user problem

Looking back at Waterille,. This is one of my favourite photos of the day. I love the way the light caught the edge of the rocks.

Given time to brush off the muck, Tutor Michael invited us to dinner at his home. Eva, his wife, had cooked a lovely meal for us. What a wonderful way to round off the day, a welcome as warm as the glowing fire, good food, good conversation and finally a look at our photos and some editing tips.
Tomorrow is another day. If you would like to see some of Michaels work this is a link to his photo blog. http://www.skelligphoto.blogspot.com/

Friday 13th.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 23:20:00 +0000

I know it's been a long time since I've posted. I never finished my story of a Turkish wedding. Unfortunately, events overtook me and I simply neither had the time nor the heart to blog. However a new year has dawned and I'm trying to get a grip.
A couple of months ago I booked a photography workshop in Kerry for the second weekend in January. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I ask myself, why put myself under more pressure when things are already tough?
It turns out there are just two of us doing the weekend workshop so there will be no hiding in the back row. I ran around the house last night, gathering up lenses, batteries and chargers...not to mention the camera. I packed my bags. It is a five hour journey to Portmagee, so I will leave straight after school.
Checked the bags again, waterproof coat, sufficient clothes in case I get wet. I'm set.
I got up this morning packed the car, bid my farewells and started the engine. Oops! My laptop. Back inside and grab it. Back to the car again...Yet another oops. The brother's belated Christmas present. I will call and see him on Sunday This is shaping up to be one of those days.
Arrived at school and I'm having a great conversation with my class of 4 year olds as to why "Jack fell down and broke his crown" One of the suggestions was that he was wearing slippy shoes. Oh God! I looked down at my lovely pumps with their pretty blue bows and realised I had forgotten my walking boots..
As I only live five minutes from school, I decide to run home at lunch time.
Mum was out, No. 1 daughter was asleep, she had returned home from England this morning on the night ferry.I slipped upstairs, grabbed my boots, fended off two mad kittens who wanted the run of the house and headed straight out the door.
Damn, damn, damn. My car keys are sitting on the kitchen table.....along with my house key! I went to get the spare key. It wasn't in it's usual place. I checked under the flower pots. No luck. I hadn't even brought my phone.
I shout up at my daughter's window, throw stones at it, petrified that with the way my luck is running I'd break it. She was sleeping the sleep of the dead. No response!! Back to search for the spare key again. You can imagine my frustration, I can't get back to school, I can't ring to let them know what's happening. I'd left sausage rolls in the oven there. I wouldn't have time for dinner this evening so a substantial lunch was on the menu.
There was only one thing for it. Deep breaths and prayers to St Anthony. Believe it or not it worked! I found the spare key, grabbed my car keys and got back to school with five minutes to spare. It really is shaping up to be Friday 13th and I had a long journey ahead of me.
Thankfully the rest of the day passed reasonably uneventfully. I left school at 15.30, got into the car and apart for one brief stop to fill the petrol tank - falling over the pump returning to the car - I reached my destination safely, five hours later.
Hopefully, tomorrow will not be too stressful and I will learn something. At least Michael, the tutor is warned. I told him I'm a complete novice and a blonde!

The Wedding Begins

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 17:52:00 +0000

Tuesday morning I went down to Gulsum. The wedding was finally beginning this evening. I needed to find out what the format was.
When I arrived Gulsum and her Mum were busy. Her house is divided into two apartments and the tenants of the downstairs apartment had moved out. They were busy getting this ready in case the evenings were cold and guests might want to sit inside.
One room was set aside for the cook. As usual I didn't think of taking photos when I should have. There were sacks of rice and chick peas in aditio to gallons of oil, litres of water and rakı. İ was informed that it is usually only at the grooms home that alcohol is proffered.
Food would be provided here for two days and at the brides home for three. Generally the groom's guests eat at the groom's home and the brideis at her home. The two groups will only come together in the evenings.
In the meantime there was work to be done. Gülsüm was struggling to connect a soba, a woodburning stove to the chimney. The soba is the most common form of heating in Turkey. They are assembled in winter and taken down and put away once the weather warms up in spring.

The flue for the chimney didn'tseem big enough for the pipe. Gülsüm was balancing precariously on top of the soba, banging on the pipe to make it fit. Pieces of plaster started to fall. Even though she lives in an all male household there wasn't a man in sight. İ suggested İ give Metin a ring. Within ten minutes he had arrived, unblocked the flue. There was a build up of soot and this was why there was a problem. He was not escaping that easily though, there were suddenly several other jobs that needed to be done and he was a man with a toolbox who knew what he was doing.

A short while later Olcay arrived home. He supervised us as we cleaned and got the place ready. Metin went off to buy parts to fix the built-in bidet in the toilet. Most toilets in Turkey have a built in faucet at the back of the toilet. And he thought he was just coming to connect the soba!

In the meantime we went upstairs. The cook arrived and Gülsüm realised that she had forgotten to buy garlic in the market the day before. Luckily it wasn't too late to go to the market in Gölköy. İ offered to drive her.
She had already spent over $300 on vegetables the previous day. An enormous amount considering that a kilo of tomatoes can be bought for just over a euro and onions for less. There was some hard bargaining done as leeks and parsley were added to the purchases. These were to be delivered with the rest of the
vegetables later.

The vegetables arrive

What next?

Olcay helps to unpack the lorry

The afternoon was spent in preparations. İ drove Gülsüm, her eldest son's fıancee and her fıancee's mother to the hairdresser, where their hair was tweaked and twisted into elaborate updos and curls.

İ sneaked off home for a couple of hours and then the main event began. This night was fairly low key. We went to the bride's home or should I say in the communal space between several houses. Tables and chairs were laid out in the garden and a chef was on duty here. Metin and İ sat down to eat.'İ was glad to have some company as Gülsüm was busy with family. Trying to follow the format, İ asked at what stage would the formal wedding take place. İmagine my surprise when İ was told the 'nikah' the formal civil wedding usually takes place a week or so before the 'düğün' the wedding celebrations. The henna ceremony would take place the next night and the takı, the pinning o of the gold and money would take place on the last night.

Once we had eaten however Gülsüm arrived over and said we were now moving down to the lower level where the dancing was to take place. Metin got up to come with me but was told to stay with the men! The grooms female family and friends sat together and so did the brides. Though the two families knew each other well there was not much conversation between them. İ was aware of pre wedding tensions between the families but thought that now that dowry and where the couple were going to live had been decided that the worst of the tensions were over.

The fun begins......the bride was 18 in Sptember.

The dancing began. The bride had appeared dressed in red. This was the first of four outfits she would wear over the course of the wedding. First of all the ladies began dancing. They danced in small groups of four or five. These were traditional dances and were not about getting up and joining in. When each group finished another group got up and did the same thing, followed by the original group doing the same thing again. İt became slightly repetitive, as sitting in the dark the evening got progressively cooler. The beautiful style of the close family was soon being covered over by shawls and winter jackets, only being removed when it was time to dance.

On the right is the grooms brother and his fiancee.

Metin appeared, handed me the car keys and said he was leaving. He was freezing and his bed was beckoning. İ watched him go enviously as İ was also feeling the chill and hadn't come prepared. Thankfully it was time for everyone to dance and İ was able to get up and move about. İ pitied the ladies in high heels who had to dance in rough ground. İ take off my hats to them for their agility in staying upright. İ can't manage heels at the best of times, what wpould they have been like here.

Traditional dancing

The bride's extended family

Gülsüm, her mother on the left and her daughter-in-law-to-be, Tuğba on the right.

The two Mammies

Dress styles were varied

Note the shawls and jackets of the spectators.

Then it was the men's turn.

I looked around me and noticed that many had left. I pulled my phone from my bag and told a little white lie. I have two more nights of this so I didn't feel too guilty. I made my excuses saying Hubbie had rung me couple of times and I needed to return to the house.

I made my way back to the car and headed for home. In spite of the time I made a nice big mug of coffee. I needed to warm up, then I headed for bed with a good book. Tomorrow will be round two

Stereotypes or not?

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 09:40:00 +0000

I still had a day before the wedding. The first order of business was to go into Bodrum to buy a gold coin as wedding present for Onur.

I hadn't a clue what I was doing so I asked Metin what was the procedure. He kindly offered to come with me......he will endure a shopping trip if it means he gets a chance to drive the car. We would also go and get his caricature framed.

We went straight to Bodrum and headed for the jewellers. Metin must have had practice at this because he knew exactly where we were going Had I known where to go, I would have managed on my own. . There were rows of coins on display, each one attached to a small red ribbon and a safety pin, all ready for pinning to the bride or groom. The coin was incredibly small and light so I asked to see a bigger one but at double the price it was out of my budget. The deal done, the coin placed safely in my bag - with dire warnings from Metin to be careful with it (he has seen me in action, looking for phone purse and keys)- we decided to head downtown.

I wanted to do some early Christmas shopping, No.2 daughter wanted knitted socks, a hoodie and earrings and No.4 daughter wants a new handbag. The sun was shining and it was much to beautiful to go shopping so we decided to stop and have coffee instead. What can be more relaxing than sitting in the sun , looking out to sea knowing the weather is wet and miserable at home.

Our view while drinking coffee......it was raining heavily at home in Ireland :-)

The Castle of St. Peter Bodrum

There is only one thing that makes me uncomfortable. Stereotyping. In Turkey middle aged women have a terrible reputation for falling for young handsome Turks. They are reputed to park their brains.....and pants..... at the airport.

So here I am sitting in the sun with "my young Turk" enjoying the sunshine while at the same time wondering is everyone thinking I'm just another foolish "Big Bertha." Metin, on the other side of the table is wondering if everyone is thinking, here is another young Turk milking another stupid woman for all she is worth. It also makes him uncomfortable.

Coffee time!

For me, the feeling is a hangover from my primary school years, when a group of girls tried, and succeeded, to make my life miserable. They would talk behind their hands, looking at me and laughing. In retrospect, they were probably talking about something totally different but their intent was definitely to wind me up. This left me very uncomfortable around people for a long time, wondering were they talking about me, and of course, finding me wanting. It took me a long time to realise they had better things to do with their time. But now and then I still have to battle with the feeling that everyone is talking about me.

For Metin, Turkey is the original "valley of the squinting windows" There are so many unwritten rules. One example is he will never stay in my house beyond 11p.m. if I am on my own. This would be totally "ayıp - disgraceful" It is probably ayıp that he visits in the first place. The ridiculousness of this is that you could get up to whatever you want at 10am if you wanted.

Why do we insist on labelling people? Why do we try to fit people into boxes? Why should we care what other people think about us or for that matter why should we speculate about others? Why should we rent headspace to people we don't really know and who don't matter.

For me it is important, that while having respect for the customs of an area, not to let idle speculation ruin an honest and valuable friendship.

With this in mind, we ate outside that evening, where we were in plain view of those who might wish to speculate. Who knows does this add to or mitigate from the gossip :-)))))

mmm......Barbie in November!

"Recited Gifts.....A Wedding Invitation"

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 16:27:00 +0000

After breakfast I went over to visit Gülsüm. She was up to her tonsils with visitors coming to call before the wedding. We just had time for a short chat. She also told me the wedding would now start on Tuesday evening instead of Wednesday. It is now a three day wedding. I can see my holiday getting shorter and shorter.

On one hand, I'm looking forward to experiencing my first Turkish wedding but on the other hand, being the only "yabanci" will not make it an easy experience. I'm not sure what to expect but I imagine the family will be busy so what I'm going to do I don't know. Murphy's Law, this is the first time in four years that I'm out here at this time of year on my own. Ah well, we'll see what the next few days will bring.

As I was leaving Gülsüm produced my offıcial 'invitation' to the wedding. She considers me her big sister so my invitation was a little special.

İt soon became evident the invitation is a little more elaborate than our cards. İ was handed a plastic shopping bag and the invitation was inside. İ waited until İ got home to unwrap the parcel.

The "Invitation"

It is fastened with a Nazar Boncuk, it protects against the "evil eye" and brings luck.

Inside the parcel.........

Inside the invitation.......First up, a strappy t-shirt. I love the lacy bit

Pop socks, or a direct translation of the packet, thin under the knee socks!

A headscarf

This is the detail of the beautiful hand crotcheted border

Next came the pashmina

........a hand towel. This will have pride of place in my guest bathroom. The colours match perfectly!

In closer detail

.........and again

This tradition of giving gifts of food, a handkerchief, a piece of cloth is known as "recited" gifts. The Koran is recited as the gifts are prepared. They are then distributed to everyone in the village. The tradition is now dying out but it is alive and well in Türkbükü. The closer the 'invitee' the more lavish the gift.

In addition to my invitation Metin had placed flowers on the table for me and there was a wonderful note and gifts from my second group of house swappers.

My flowers

Lake Garda looks absolutely beautiful, I need to retire so I can have more time to travel!

I feel cherished.

Breakfast Conversation.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 23:20:00 +0000

I was hardly in the door when Metin arrived to invite me for breakfast. This is something I had missed. I'm not a breakfast person, leaving it until the last moment to come down and eat, often as İ run out the door. But here, while everyone else sleeps İ usually join Metin for a chat, a cup of coffee and simit.

Simit

Simit is a circular bread covered in sesame seeds. If it is market day I am treated to freshly cooked gozleme, a spinach and cheese pancake.

Breakfast time is the time of the day when I used to give Metin English lessons. These days we just tend to chat in both English and Turkish and catch up on the daily goings on in our lives.

He had been in great humour the week before he arrived. Things had been looking promising for him on the girlfriend front.

Gozleme

A bank clerk had kept him chatting on a couple of occasions when he was in the bank, even though there was a queue waiting behind him.

I had encouraged him to invite her for a coffee or a meal. He had done nothing about it for a while but then the previous week he got her number from a mutual friend and he invited her out.

They had several conversations and the text messages were counted - 35 in all. Things had been going fairly well but after Metin told her he didn't own a house, though one day he would inherit the family home and one fifth of the farm she seemed to cool off. The text messages became briefer. She told him she needed time to think. I'm told the girls in this area check a potential suitors assets before they choose who to fall in love with. Money in the bank was not enough.

He told her he didn't understand why she needed time to decide about meeting him for coffee, after all it was not exactly a marriage proposal. He also told her he thought she must have greater expectations and he prayed that she would find what she was looking for.

Breakfast time, tea and sympathy

I don't think this was the response she was expecting. She did not expect that a "mere" gardener would give her the heave ho. She waited four days and then sent him a message to say his message had upset her greatly, goodbye.

While realising that he had probably had a lucky escape, he was very downhearted. We had the usual questions for breakfast. When will I get married, how will I find a girl? We had yet another counselling session. I think I have Mammy tattooed on my forehead! He finds it hard to meet girls, yet when he is offered an introduction to some girls, he has his own set of criteria. They have to be prepared to work, life is hard, wages are low. If both of them worked they would have a better chance to provide for their one child.

It is a difficult system, introductions and marriage in rural Turkey. Metin's parents are ageing and never made the introductions for him. He is the youngest of five, all the rest are married. He is a bit like the cuckoo in the nest. He is ambitious for himself and his future, but if you come from a poor farming family, without someone to help you, it is very hard to get that first foot on the business ladder. He doesn't want an arranged marriage, he wants a life partner. Someone to love and who loves him for who he is, not what he's got.

Without a house and a car his chances are greatly reduced, in this area anyway. He is 33 and every time he goes home for someones wedding, he is asked when will it be your turn? Is there something wrong with you nudge nudge wink wink?

Previously, I had asked my friend if she knew any local girls who might be interested in meeting him. She made some enquiries and in one case, the family were poor but were indignant that she asked was their daughter interested in meeting him. They had less than he but were hoping to improve their lot through her marriage. That was the end of her enquiries!

She confirmed everything Metin said about the girls only wanting to meet men with houses. It is not about the ability to provide. Even in her case, her son was getting married and they were having difficulties with the Mother-in-Law-to-be. They have an empty apartment. Ideal for the young couple starting out, rent and mortgage free. However MIL was insisting they bought a house for the couple. Eventually she accepted this was not a viable proposition but insisted that 20 gold bracelets be bought as the "bride price" Each one cost 2000tl approximately €800. This was in addition to the cost of the wedding.

In Turkey, for those opting for a traditional wedding, the majority of the expense falls on the grooms family. How do they afford the lavish three day affairs? If only I was living there, with 4 daughters the gold would be rolling in the door. Unfortunately, I'm living in Ireland. I have bought a long ladder and shown the girls where I keep it. Hopefully, they will elope and save themselves, and us, the expense of all the hoopla weddings bring!

Travelling from A to B

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 23:04:00 +0000

There are times I think I really deserve my name Cılgın Kız, Crazy Girl. Sitting in Ataturk Airport at 3 o'clock in the morning was one of those times.

I was on my way to Bodrum for my friend Gülsüm's son's wedding. School finished at lunch time on Friday. Unusally for me, I didn't fly until Saturday evening. There had to be a good reason. There was.
Flights are not cheap, Turkish Airlines, my usual choice involves 2 flights, Dublin-Istanbul , then Istanbul-Bodrum. This time it would have cost me €430 and an overnight stop in Istanbul on the way home.

So I had to find a cheaper way there to justify me nipping off again for a week. This meant booking with Lufthansa, Dublin to Istanbul, €199. The downside? The flight was via Frankfurt. This is why I was sitting in the airport in Istanbul waiting for my 07.00am Atlasjet flight to Bodrum.

Advantage of this route

Hubbie's mental health.......saving money. ( he wasn't travelling so waiting in airports not an issue)
could rent a car with money saved on flights
extra time in Bodrum, don't have to leave until Monday lunchtime instead of Sunday evening

Disadvantages.

three flights
security check in Frankfurt, I think they don't like blondes
spend the night in Ataturk airport, arrive there 02.20a.m next flight 07.00am
Arrggghhhhh.........the hour goes back tonight at 04.00am in Turkey. I've got to sit for an extra hour. I normally love the hour going back in wintertime. I get an extra hour in bed. Now I've got an extra hour in Gloria Jeans drinking very expensive cappuccino.

Surprisingly, the time passed rather quickly. I bought my coffee, sneaked a Twix out of my bag, found a comfy chair, put my feet up and took out my book. We have to read "The Girls" by Lori Lansens for our next Book Club.

"The Girls" was my recommendation. I had read it before but none of the others have read it. It is novel about craniopagus conjoined twins. I decided to read it again because it had been a while. I would need to refresh my memory if I was to be able to discuss it. It was worth the second read and I didn't notice the hour going backwards. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the plane to Bodrum. Sleep finally caught up with me. I woke as the plane was approaching the airport. The sun was shining and the white sugar cube houses were dotting the hills and coastline as we came in to land.

My bag was one of the first through. I stepped out into early morning sunshine. My rental car was waiting for me. When I produced my credit card to pay for it, I was told we would have to go to his office, 4km on the Bodrum road, for him to take payment. Asking if this was a problem, I was told no, he just prefers cash. We chatted on the way. In the end, we decided that I would pay in cash for the car on my return, his suggestion! I dropped him at his office and continued on my way.

It is hard to describe the feeling as I turned into our complex and opened the house door. There were flowers on the table and a present with a lovely note from my German house swoppers waiting for me. I was home!

Many of my friends love to go on holidays but hate the journey. To me the journey is part of the experience.

I enjoy meeting new people. This time it was two German ladies on the flight from Dublin. One lady was very excited and her companion explained this was because it had been her first holiday abroad. They had spent a week with her brother in Drogheda. She normally travelled with her sister to visit her brother once a year. This year her sister's daughter got married and she had no money to travel. So she invited her work colleague to travel with her. They were supermarket cashiers. It was her first time abroad, hence the excitement.

Do you enjoy the journey or would you wish to be instantly transported to your destination? What is your favourite mode of transport? Or like my neighbour would you prefer to stay in your own backyard?

A Car, A Pipe Bomb and CSI Drumcondra.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 22:58:00 +0000

Friday night after our late return from the pub, I checked my emails and of course had a quick look at my Facebook Page. I got a bit of a shock when I saw the post No. 2 Daughter had on her wall.

No 2 Daughter

I've had a bad day involving a missing car, a pipe bomb and CSI Drumcondra. Long story short, I had to take the bus home.

While I'm not a person who panics, I will have to admit to momentary alarm. My daughter and pipe bombs? In Dublin? But using my brain, she was able to type so there can't have been too much harm done. I would have to wait until the morning to ring her and get the full story. Having had a stressful day she wouldn't appreciate a late call from an anxious Mammy, I phoned her to see what the story was and what had happened to poor old J-Lo.

J-Lo is No.4 daughter's car. She bought her when she was just 17, the legal age to learn to drive in Ireland. We live in a small village so No.4, unlike her sisters, was determined to get about under her own steam. She worked part-time, at weekends and during the summer, as a lifeguard. Unusually for her, she saved all her money, so when my work colleague decided to sell her Ford Ka at the right price, No.4 Daughter was in there like a shot. She named her new car Belinda but her friends soon renamed her (not it, her car was never an it). Belinda became J-Lo, No 4's friends said she had to be called J-Lo because of her big bum and has been part of our family for seven years.

No. 2 Daughter has been driving J-Lo recently as No.4 Daughter's driving license had expired while she was living in France and she is waiting for her new one to arrive. They share a flat in Dublin and have been driving the car up and down rather than taking the bus every weekend. They have been able to find a free parking space for her in the back streets near their flat.

So less of the back story, back to the pipe bomb! No.2 Daughter had just lugged her sister's dirty laundry to the car. She was coming home for the weekend. Her sister was staying in Dublin but planned on having clean laundry on Monday!!

Arriving at the place she had last parked the car, she discovered it was missing. She rang the gardai (police) to report it stolen. They told her they were the ones that had "stolen" it.

A jeep, belonging to a criminal, newly released from jail, had been parked in front of her car. Someone had placed a pipe bomb in the jeep and blown it up! The gardai removed No. 4 daughters car for forensic testing and would release it to her sometime the following week. This is the link to the newspaper report of the incident.

range-rover-targetted-as-families-rocked-by-third-pipebomb-blast-2904768.html

In spite of several phone calls to the garage where their car had been taken the girls could get no information on the extent of the damage to their car. If it was badly damaged it would be a big loss as they are both now students and would be unable to replace it. J-Lo is a teenager and the insurance would not pay enough to replace her.

The following Tuesday No.2 Daughter got word that the car was being released. She got to the garage to find the windows had been shattered. There was powder all over the inside of the car where it had been dusted for fingerprints. She had to drive it from the garage in this condition as they would not allow the glass repair guy work on it on the premises.

The repair guy told her that the glass, in all probability, had been broken by the gardai. According to him they notorious for doing it. It made sense. They had the registration number. One quick look at the records and they could have identified the owner. She was just around the corner. A phone call and five minutes later she would have been there. It was easier to break the glass and haul it away.

However, there is no point in growling, the girls are ok, J-Lo lives for another day and boy, does No.2 Daughter have a tale to tell. She can dine out on this story for a while......and so can I :-)))

The Fun Continues... Cilgin Kiz's Family in Shock as she Visits "The Field of Dreams"

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 20:12:00 +0000

Our days in Manchester were all go, go go. It was great fun to visit the children and talk to them in their classrooms. We ironed out teething problems with the project and planned the next months activities.

Comenius Noticeboard in Crossgates Primary School.

We visited a secondary school. 1200 pupils, we don't have that many people living in our village. I wouldn't like to be organising that school. The sheer logistics of getting pupils from one room to another must be a nightmare.

The gym where we took part in the activities.

Recreation area for the pupils

Next was Rochdale Town Hall. It is a very beautiful Victorian Gothic building. After a guided tour we stopped by to meet the Lord Mayor.

Section of the floor in the entry hall

Ceiling

Lion looks out over the town of Rochdale

Lord Mayor and his wife

Year 5's, their teachers and visitors pose with the Mayor

And then we went bowling! The Year 5 pupils came with us. What a great leveller. It was wonderful to see people without the language communicating effectively and having fun with the children. It loosened many of the inhibitions.

Checking out the scores!

The bowling was followed with a curry, now one of England's "traditional" foods. The two older Turkish men were not impressed. This surprised me, as spicy foods and rice would be very much part of their diet.

The next morning we were back in the school again to continue with our planning. It is funny. The funding for the project comes form a central agency in Europe. It is adminstered by local agencies in ach of our countries. But apart from the basic rule that we must spend the money on "mobilities", school visits, the rules that govern what we do with the money vary greatly from country to country. For example, as long as we can show that the money was spent in connection with the project we can use it as we wish. Our biggest expense outside the mobilities is paying for substitute teachers. Spain cannot do this, they try to plan the visits during school holidays. England can only travel Saturday to Wednesday or vice versa. We can travel as we wish, though three school days are seen as the norm. Thus, trying to plan the visit to Kayseri was difficult but eventually we reached a compromise.

Meeting finished we were given our packed lunches and once more headed off in the bus to visit Old Trafford, the home ground of Manchester United.

Old Trafford, home of Manchester United. "The Field of Dreams"

Everyone who knows me was highly amused with this part of my trip. They know I wouldn't cross the sitting room floor to switch on the telly to watch a soccer match, let alone the Irish Sea or "The Pond" as it's known here. We were brought on a guided tour.

I'll have to admit it was impressive, though one of the Poles was told in no uncertain terms she could not have a blade of grass to bring home to her soccer mad son, and Pilar was strongly reprimanded for putting her toe on the grass, the signs telling her not were pointed out to her and it was written in several languages including Spanish so inability to understand was not an acceptable excuse.

Strangely enough, none of the children transgressed.!!

Seating area where our guide is standing is the wheelchair area, behind him is the seating area for the blind. Earphones are provided with match commentary.

Our group!

Next it was the Imperial War Museum, with exhibits from two World Wars, a car blown up in Baghdad and some twisted girders from the World Trade Centre. It was very well done and the lightshow really brought the consequences of war home to us.

Fire Truck

Anti Aircraft Gun

This is the steel section from the World Trade Centre

This car was blown up on the streets of Baghdad

We went to an Italian restaurant that night. Hasan and Mustafa were delirious. They loved their pizza. They cleaned their plates and beamed at everyone. After the meal, the Turks headed for bed, the Poles returned to their B&B to "look after" their principal who had a headache. Did I hear the word "pretend" before "look after"? Mmmmmm.

The Irish and the Spanish along with the English co-ordinator headed for the pub. Pilar started to wilt. She had been fighting a throat infection since she arrived. The voice was gone and bed was mandatory. I was blamed for leading them all astray. They were easily led!

Farewell Manchester.

noreply@blogger.com (hocam) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 19:39:00 +0000

This is the last post in the Manchester series. I'm behind with my posts. I took a break for a while, both from writing and reading. But I'm back in the swing again. Hopefully, I will be able to keep up with the writing and I've started my blog reading again.

On the last morning of our Comenius visit to Rochdale we had a brief but informative tour of Manchester. The history of Manchester is very interesting, here are a few brief facts.

It was at the heart of the industrial revolution, mills for cotton, engineering firms made machines for the cotton industry, chemical firms made bleaches and dyes, this is turn lead to banking and financial services. Growing population led to improvement in transport and distribution services
In 18^th century it was the cotton making capital of the world.
80% of the world’s cotton was bought and sold in the Royal Exchange here
Business tycoons endowed the city with museums, galleries, libraries and theatres.
Manchester was at one end of the first intercity railway line, the Liverpool and Manchester Railway
The Manchester shipping canal was opened in 1894 and was the largest river navigation canal in the world.
Cotton industry declined because of two world wars and Ghandhi’s boycott of British cotton
Scientists first split the atom in Manchester
Scientists developed the first programmable computer here.

Manchester Cathedral built in the vertical Gothic style

In 1996 an IRA bomb devastated the city centre. There was no loss of life, as a warning was given. But approximately 200 were injured, mainly by flying glass. The immense damage done to the surrounding buildings led to the total regeneration of the city centre. It is tough to stand in a multi -national group and to hear how a small group of fellow countrymen had wreaked such devastation on the city. Keeping our counsel, we were surprised to hear our guide say that many feel the bombing was the best thing that happened to the city as without it, it is doubtful whether the investment by private investors and government would have happened.

The Manchester 'Eye'

First apartments to sell in this building sold for £1m

Urban Renewal

Some of the old buildings remain.

Our tour was cut short as some of the group wanted some time to go shopping and the Arndale Centre, the biggest shopping centre in the UK was temptingly nearby. I had no desire to shop. As I'm off to Turkey again on Saturday, and I'm hoping to do a photography workshop next month, my credit card needs an intermission.

I could spend a lot of time here. A food market selling products from many different countries. The smell was heavenly!

Neady and I decided to head for Starbucks to fortify ourselves with a decaff tea and a strong cup of coffee before we headed for the shops. As it was after 11.00a.m it was safe enough to ring the daughter to catch up with the pipe bomb story. She would be awake and conscious enough to talk. No-one will ever accuse our family of being boring!

The Royal Exchange where corn was bought and sold.

Inside the exchange.

The Exchange now houses a theatre in the round.

I had an hour to kill so I decided to wander around Marks and Spencers. Bad idea!!!! I thanked the Lord I wasn't flying Ryanair with their 15kg baggage allowance as I now have now added three new dresses, a pair of jeans and a new top to my wardrobe. But €15 for a new dress, how could I pass it by???

Next, we set off for the ballet. We met the rest of the group outside the theatre. We were booked into the matinee to see Strictly Gershwin performed by the English National Ballet.When I looked at our tickets I noticed it stated that there was restricted leg room. Now, I'm known as Bridget the Midget by my loving daughters. They tower over me. I'm of average height at 5'4". I'm tired telling them that best goods come in small parcels. I'm sorry they were not there sitting beside me in the theatre. I would definitely have proved my point. I had no room for my legs. They would have been eating their knees! I felt sorry for Carlos beside me. At half time, he made a bolt for the empty seats higher up. This also gave me room to stretch my legs.

The leg space was not the only problem in the theatre. It was warm, nicely so, and dark. The show was excellent but try as I might my head kept nodding. I didn't want to miss a minute of the performance, but all the going of the past few days, the late nights and the "strenuous" shopping hour all took their toll. I was mortified. Kathryn, who had gone to so much trouble to organize an interesting and varied programme for us, was sitting directly behind me. Dear God, she would think I was bored. I was quite relieved when some of my companions admitted to the same thing. Several of us were nodding.

After the show we took the train back to Rochdale. The Turks were amazed at the orderly queue of people off the train and then waiting patiently to get on board in an orderly fashion. One remarked that this is something you would never see in Turkey. The concept of "orderly" queue does not exist.

After a brief rest, a change into one of my new dresses we came together again for our "last supper." It fell to me as project coordinator to thank Jane and her colleagues for the wonderful visit. Then it was hugs and kisses all round as we wished each other well and promised to meet up in Seville in January.

A 04.30 start the next morning saw us on our way to the airport to catch an early flight home. It's only 3 months to our meeting in Seville.