Beaumaris Castle, Chester and Trwyn Du Lighthouse

The adventure in Wales continues as a slightly painful, disastrous experience, somehow juxtaposed against beautiful scenery and mystical castles. I am beginning to understand how the stereotype of a rugged grumpy Welshman has come to be. So if you ever find yourself in northern Wales, I suggest you take the opportunity to breath in plenty of fresh air, take long miserable walks, and surrender yourself to the peace and tranquility that surrounds you.

Of course, peace and tranquility are great and everything, but there's only so much poignant riverside meditation and sheep watching you can do, so I suggest you take a wander around these places as well:

Beaumaris Castle - I'm not a huge fan of castles. They're a bit like churches or temples if you ask me, but Beaumaris Castle is definitely worth a visit. It is one of the most complete castles in Wales, and I am told it is a beautiful sample of Edwardian architecture. Even if you're not that into architecture, it is a really great interactive experience, its numerous walls and tunnels offering plenty of opportunities to explore and let your imagination run wild. Once you make it out of the dark slightly creepy tunnels within the castle walls, you can meander on top of these same walls and enjoy the refreshing green-ness of surrounding fields. You can easily spend an hour if not more at this site. It is also child friendly and has mini playground with a bouncy castle next door.

Chester - Although not technically a Welsh city, at least a fourth of it is in Wales so it counts. It is home to the Chester racecourse, known as Roodee, the oldest racecourse still in use in England. Races take place throughout the year, with special racing festivals in August and May. These offer a great chance to don your best heels and grandest hats, and make like Eliza Doolitle and holler "move yer bloomin' arse!" at passing strangers (or horses). Aternatively, you can wander around and admire the wonderfully preserved and restored medieval architecture, and walk a top the city walls.

Trwyn Du Lighthouse - A visit to the lighthouse on a beautiful day is like stepping into a picture postcard. Your frustrations instantly melt away as soon as you step onto those white pebbles and feel the heat of the overhead sun. It is a great place for lounging, reading, drawing, flying kites or crab fishing.  Across the water you will also see Puffin Island, the ninth largest island off the coast of Wales and more excitingly, a Special Protection Area for coastal wild life such as Puffins and Great Cormorants. If you look hard enough you might even catch site of one (or both) of the seals that live in the bay.

Nazi bunkers, fishing and oil rigs

So I'm back in Europe, but this does not mean I have stopped travelling. In fact, I'm travelling more than ever, nearly to the point of delusional exhaustion which results in me walking into doors. Safe to say I'm happy that I will be in ONE place for a whole three weeks. Amazing.

This one

At the end of June I went to Norway to visit that one there > and had a great time. It was beautiful. I discovered that fjords in Norway are everywhere (it is one of those things you have to see to believe) and the people are lovely, albeit slightly sceptical of my very obvious foreign-ness. They are also very tall. I have never felt smaller than when surrounded by tall blonde Norwegians in blue blazers in a cramped bar in Stavanger. It's not like you exactly care though when you're in the company of good friends and you're all acting a bit loopy on the dance floor.

Stavanger is the cutest little seaside town/city. It is technically a city, because it has a cathedral, but it really feels more like a town. Especially when you see a giant cruise ship docked in the harbor towering over the wee wooden pubs and houses. Old Stavanger lies on the left of the harbour if you're facing inland, and is comprised of tiny white wooden houses, tiny flower gardens and cobbled streets which lead you up the hill to the tinned mackerel museum. Very cool and interesting if you're into old labels and adverts, but it was enough just to see the free exhibit at the front. To the right of the harbour are pubs, restaurants and more meandering cobbled streets which lead you to more pubs and restaurants.  

I would like to say that many Norwegian stereotypes apply. People are tall, blonde and outdoorsy. They dress very smart in navy blue blazers, or practical down jackets and wind breakers. A trip to the coast includes a fishing trip on a boat. Rocks and boulders resemble trolls and wooded areas look like they were taken straight out of an illustrated fairy tale book about the animals of the forest. Unexpected factors of this trip included the sheer number of pale peach jelly fish in the sea, the exploration of spooky nazi bunkers on the cliffs of Hausvik, and the horrible monster of a hangover that I had after drinking one too many øls. Locals beers are delicious. I particularly recommend the White Dog Lervig øl from Stavanger.

Finally, the landscape. I think this is where I finally understood the utter fascination some artists have with landscapes. Don't get me wrong. I have always enjoyed a good view, but never really understood why. Then standing on the side of a cliff peering out into the ocean, I realized that nothing compares to that feeling you get when you are confronted by the sheer size of the world in comparison to your tiny self. There is nothing that compares to standing on top of a rock or a mountain surrounded by nothing but scenery, giant jagged rocks plunging into a sapphire coloured ocean, bright blue sky above you, wind whipping at your hair and waves crashing against the rocks below you. And then the technological addiction kicks in and I understood the frustration so many landscape artists must have felt as the tried, and still try, to reproduce an image of their surroundings. Try as I may, no picture will ever capture that feeling. But a drawing might.

Adios amigos

I have now left El Salvador to return to the cold temperatures of Europe. It is time to face the world again so I will probably disappear from this blog for a few months. In the meantime, I leave you with two lovely collages and a link to a new and exciting project/blog currently being conducted by my mother to trace and uncover my family's Chinese/Mexican heritage. The blog is written in Spanish, but it has lot of old pictures as well as information about the start of globalization and the mixing of cultures way back in the 16th Century.

buscandoalabuelo.blogspot.com

Hasta luego!

Urban Nautical Adventures

Paddington Basin

pat...pat...pat...

Is the first thing I hear when I wake up in the morning. That and the soft murmur of voices sharing an early morning gossip before heading their separate ways to conduct their daily lives. The first is the sound of joggers on their morning runs, a surprisingly peaceful way to wake up compared to the ...STOMP...STOMP...STOMP of commuters at Paddington station. The stress of commuters bounces off the tall glass buildings and settles into your dreams during the night until you are abruptly awakened by the harsh metallic clang of the footsteps of urban civilization. I am generally ambivalent towards Paddington, but I never want to live there on the canal again.

Morven making breakfast

 Boat life suits me greatly. It's impossible to be stressed out on a boat and as a person who likes to juggle a million things at once this is a great benefit. Unless you are living in Paddington basin of course. Otherwise, it's great. After being gently summoned from the deep recesses of sleep, you fling the curtains, windows and doors open and you're outside. Fellow boaters are probably having breakfast and coffee outside as well, the occasional cat will blink at you vaguely for having interrupted his own private sleep. You learn to ignore non-boating folk and greet your neighbors cheerfully and they smile and nod back contentedly. Back inside you make yourself and your fellow marinero a fresh pot of coffee and breakfast and watch other narrow boats pass you by as they make their way towards new adventures. You're always meeting someone new on a boat, whether it's a neighbor or a tourists staring gawp eyed at you trying to save a flailing boat in a windy thunderstorm.

But back to breakfast. Definitely a cosy affair which requires excellent timing otherwise you end up with burnt toast and coffee paired with hardboiled eggs instead of runny centers. Five steps and you're outside again in the 'dining' area, or a further two steps and a hop and you're on your rooftop garden enjoying the view and sun. 20 minutes of sun and food later and it's time for your day to start, get dressed and go. Close the windows, lock the doors, make sure the mooring ropes are secure and you're set to go. You glance back at the boat you call home and start humming the theme tune of the day. "I've been dreaming of you since I don't know when..."

Hackney

Windhagen

The windy hills of yonder, the sheltered forest, the land where cows are your neighbors and frogs are your friends. I wouldn't call myself a city girl, but I certainly felt like one the first time I was confronted by a moo and a croak in my own backyard. Now three years later, this is the place I like to call home and enjoy exploring.

Take this morning for example, a rather late start to the day but the whole valley was still covered in thick white fog, yet all I wanted to do was jump into the still whiteness and disappear into the forest. It took some time to get out of bed, fed and washed - the cats received their quota of attention for the day as well - and I embarked on a short walk past the fields towards the babbling brook. Each journey is always different no matter how many times I've walked down the same route. There's always a new hidden path to explore, a new shortcut to be found and different farmers to annoy and I always end up trekking up some hill or other. What starts off as an intended 20 minute wander towards the edge of the forest often turns into a 40+ min hike.

I took my camera with me this time. The fog was already clearing but there was still plenty of pretty dew on the ground. You can tell autumn is just round the corner.

El Volcán de Agua, Guatemala

It's been a while since I posted some pictures, so here goes. This is the water volcano as seen from top above the valley of Guatemala City on a clear day.