Here comes the time of the year for going on the road and visiting friends out west along the Wild Atlantic Way . This time we will amble from Killary Harbour in County Mayo down to to the Dingle Peninsula in County Kerry. From east to west, north to south and back again. We are also getting ready for the annual trip to France . . .
I've looked up at it before and my image of the Shard taken from the river was part of the London Open House Exhibition in 2014. It has been love from a distance. I don't like heights. But Himself was really up for it, and as I survived the Freedom Tower earlier in the year, I decided to join in. I shuddered a little when I stepped . . .
Grand Central Station The Whitney Museum On the Highline, a walkway built on an old train track Street Art on the Highline On St. Patrick's Day Everything on the street would catch your eye, even in the rain. A big highlight was walking in the Parade with the Lavender and Green Alliance In the beginning you . . .
The view from my window changed dramatically this week when I found myself in New York City for a few days. I only had 36 hours notice before travelling so it was a case of making a quick decision to accompany himself (going for work) packing a bag and jumping on a 777 bound for JFK. The view from my window in NY turned out to be . . .
Nature is not a place to visit. It is home. Gary Snyder There comes a point in every journey when you turn for home. For me it's the last twisty turn of a boreen, onto our meandering lane. This first bend of the lane is also the top of a hill and just before I set off on the last mile, I can take in the sweep of the lake, the valley and the . . .
Up the wide stairs onto the platform of Bruxelles Nord Station. The clock said 7.43, the train would arrive and leave by 7.55. In the golden light filled space there were constant comings and goings. For twelve minutes I am pure presence. Absorbed in what I miss most about city living. Straight lines, . . .
I checked the sea temperature today. Not much more than 13/14 degrees centigrade anywhere in Ireland. This year the cold sea water was harder to bear. By the time we arrive in Kerry our friends are already a couple of weeks into the rhythm of twice daily swims. They glow from endorphins, icy water and warm wine. . . .
This inland path is meandering from river to river, through the Loire, Vienne, Creuse, Dronne, and Charente valleys. While there hasn't been a plan or even a guide book, we have a basic map of snaking blue rivers with their most beautiful banks highlighted in green. The simplicity of this and the element of surprise around every . . .
We never know exactly where each day will end; camping on a free range duck farm, parked on the bank of a leafy river, lapping up a rose scented village. The Loire Valley has won out over the west coast and it has turned out to be a magical meandering off the beaten track. We move slowly. . . .
It's late, the sun is filtering through the forest, pouring deep honey gold onto the path ahead. The quality and colour of light transforms everything. In the clearing a group of wise old trees stand in our path, disturbing the earth as their roots burrow to the surface. Camping forces you out into nature, back to basics; the smells and sounds. . . .