Brainstorming: Oxford

Foxes crossing the streets in the dead of night while walking back home.
Fascinating churchyards, where gravestones seem to be swallowed down by the ground.
Iffley and the Fir Tree – open mic!, Cowley Rd and second hand shops.
St Clements and the Half Moon. The Isis – or Thames, Southpark: a sunset made of spires and domes enriched with the colours of autumn.
Old Speckled Hen, Newcastle, Abbot Ale, Cornish ales. White wine and lemonade, a can of Red Star. The “Dodgy Deli” and Cowley Carnival.
Deep fried Mars bars, fish and chips, a luxurious fish pie eaten at candlelight, the pleasure of mint tea. The discovery of spices and five years spent trying to master them. In the kitchen the colours and smells of Indian, Mexican, Japanese, British, Spanish, French, Arabic food. Learning – a bit at time, to love them.
Waiting for a friend by the Lamb and the flag, staring at the Bodleian Library and at gargoils.
Being asked my ID at the supermarket every time I wanted to buy a bottle of alcohol, never thought I could look that young.
The Milkman, flipflops and BBQ at the first warm, sunny weekend. Cycling everywhere.
Walking alone, looking around, smiling at times, feeling at home knowing it wont be “forever”.
Getting used to the fact that everything comes, goes, changes. Learning to be grateful, to thank and to be happy just with a book in my hands.

&till next time. . . x

Witty and clever eyes, black as pitch.
I have never managed to look in to them properly – you never let me.
Always smartly dressed, very stylish for a British. Wondering whether black is your favourite colour – or the easiest one to wear?
Spending time with you, discovering bits of you, few at time.
You feeding me with your thoughts and your sweet care.
Spoiling me although I never thought I deserved it (but I know you believe so) – who is right?
Loose laces have tied us together over the past years.
A light pull from either side and back there we were, as a tight knot.

"if you get the chance look outside - eclipse"

(you have always been able to suprise me)

I will never forget.

Bits on Eire

Green are the fields, green is the shamrock and green are the letter boxes!
Haven’t quite worked out why all clocks on the buildings both in Dublin and Limerick were not working..
The only two thing I’ve learnt in Irish: HOWARYA(hello) and SLAINTE (you are welcome)

Surprising Limerick

Limerick is a nice little place. Very quite, clean, not much to do, not very exciting. Walkable, crossed by the Shannon River, some how similar to Dublin , but of course everything was on a smaller scale. Very similar architecture – colourful building with square roofs, a beautiful Cathedral dedicated to St. Mary, Guinness signs and pubs everywhere. An imposing castle was looking out over the river.
Limerick was some kind of “obliged” stop before going back home from Shannon. One thing surprised me about the city of Limerick: it has an ANTI war memorial.
Every single city I have been visiting so far always had monuments commemorating war, somehow praising the bravery and daring of its soldiers.
For the first time I stood in front of a monument which condemned violence and fightings.
It was made of two busts facing each other. One was of a commander, his chest decorated with medals. Each medal had a skull carved in it. The second bust represented a soldier with a wounded head, half of it was covered in a bandage.
I believe it is worth going to Limerick just for that.
Limerick actually surprised me twice.
I had a stroll around the castle and was walking along the river, following its right bank.
Then I bumped into these colourful houses surrounded but a pointed iron fence. I stopped and thought they were very curious and funny. Their walls were painted with such stark colours. The houses had wooden doors and windows with followers on the windowsill. The curtains were drawn to let the light it. But then I had a better look at them and realized that what I was seeing wasn’t actually what it was.
Whatever my eyes were seeing wasn’t real: everything had been painted on walled up doors and windows.
The first reaction was a smile and somehow a laugh too. It reminded me of Magritte “Ceci n’est pas une pipe”. Afterwards though I thought I was a bit scary.

Cliffs of Moher: sunshine Ireland!!

We got there eventually. After driving through the Burren National Park, along the bay that goes from Galway to Cape Loop and after spending our lunchtime in Doolin (the smallest village I’ve ever visited) we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher. Such was the sunshine that it was difficult to look at the sea and the cliffs!
“The sun followed us all day. When we got to the cliffs it was shining at its best, not a cloud in the sky. Its light reflected in the ocean almost blinded me.
The cliffs standing in front of the sun were like a black drawing outstretched towards the horizon. I ventured off the tourist path, trespassing the board ‘Danger: do not go beyond this point’. Behind it no fences or warnings, just me walking free of restrictions and thoughts.”
PS: do not go there if you suffer from vertigo!!

The trip on the bus – getting there and coming back, was all about driving through the Irish countryside, passing by villages and lakes. The land seemed dotted with ruins of medieval castles and towers, walls of churches still standing after centuries and still surrounded by their cemeteries made of abandoned bones and souls.

FYI: for your information

Being a day trip and having to spend quite some time on the bus, our bus driver made sure he had enough information to entertain us. I have to admit that wasn’t always listening to him, but here what I managed to understand.
County Clare was once the land of the O’Brien clan. They fought for and defended this region, they built castles and towers and they also used combined weddings as a diplomatic weapon to increase their wealth (as it has been done in the rest of Europe, possibly the world).
While driving past Shannon, going towards Ennis, Richard (that is the name of the driver) told us the story of when and how Irish Coffee was invented.
“Late 1930’s – early 1940’s, International Airport of Foynes, County Clare, Eire.
At that time the airport at Foynes, was quite busy sending and receiving tourists and customers from the rest of the world. Ireland was already well known for its unpredictable and rainy cold weather. In those times the airport of Foynes was well known instead for its planes coming back after an hour or so after leaving the airport. Bad weather conditions plus lack of fuel forced pilots to change course and go back to the starting point.
That was what happened on one night. Once again, one of the planes who took off from Foynes justa couple of hour before, had to go back to the stating point. Really bad weather on its way! The passengers had to get off the plane, they were wet, cold and grumpy. A chef, willing to give them some comfort, prepared a coffee, added a shot of whiskey and topped it with cream. An American asked “ What is this? Is it Brazilian coffee?” and the chef replied “No, this is Irish Coffee”.
And they all lived happily ever after.

NOTE: a young boy playing with a rugby ball by the ruins of a castle overlooking a lake.

County Clare

I got off the train and half an hour later I got on a bus for a day trip around country Clare.
The Burren or “the great rock” – a landascape made of limestone, a witness of the ice age. We drove through it for most of the day. Hills and land covered in limestone. Grey all over. Mother nature worked on it for thousands of years, a unique and fragile landscape where only goats (and tourists on restricted areas) are admitted.
A bare view, so simple and so enchanting.
We drove by the coast of the Galway bay, having a first taste of Irish cliffs. Around us, nothing but nature. The road was just a line, challenged by the shape of the coast.
We hardly met another car on our way to the cliffs. You could spot a house of the side of the hill but no real urban areas. A village made of few houses was all you could find there. And goats and sheep, of course. They seemed to be the real and only owner of the land. Their guardians weren’t shepherds, but ancient towers and castles, still standing at strategic points after centuries of battles and wars.