September 25, 2012

EXPLORING BELFAST

This morning it was still pouring; I truly don't think I have ever seen so much rain within a two week time period anywhere. Fortunately, there was no flooding. My hostess, Honor Baird, gave me a lift mid-morning to the new Titanic Building and I enjoyed the self-guided tour very much and learned a lot about how the ship was built and what happened from the moment the idea for a grand liner was conceived until she finally, on 14 April, 1912, pointed her face straight down and plunged to the ocean floor where she has remained now for 100 years.

Harlan and Wolff, shipbuilders, received the contract to build what was to be the  largest, safest and most luxury 5 star hotel for the White Star Line with Bruce Ismay as President. The expectation was that the Titanic would usher in a new era of luxury liners. Designed by Thomas Andrews, work began on the queen long before - part of our tour was to take a ride in a car through a simulated shipbuilding yard. Each rivet had to be done by hand. Workers were on the job from 6:30 am until 6:00 pm and were required to bring their own food. Average wage was one pound per week, but the top wage could be as much as two pounds.

She was launched on May 31, 1911, with a huge crowd cheering amid a brass band. Her future did indeed look bright. Consequently, the ship began to take on a personality and it took almost one more year for her to be fitted for passengers and ready to sail. Finally, in April of the following year she left Belfast on April 2, picking up passengers in Cherbourg and Southampton. On April 10 she sailed away, destined for New York, with Captain Edward J. Smith at the helm. A first class ticket was $4,350, second class $1,750 and third class $30. At the end of the exhibit were posters of various films about the disaster, and the costumes worn by Leonardo diCaprio and Kate Winslett in the latest blockbuster.

On April 14 the iceberg was sighted (the lookouts had no binoculars) and  it was deemed unnecessary to call for help, since it did not constitute a threat. The crew were informed that there would not be any problem. J. Bruce Ismay, as  a  passenger observing but not part of the crew,  has been highly criticized for his apparent urging Captain Smith not to slow down and to proceed full steam ahead.

When all became apparent that there was indeed a huge problem, Captain Smith radioed for help to ships in the area, but it was too late. The 20 lifeboats on the ship were launched and women and children ordered into them. It is rumored that some of the way to the boats were blocked for third class passengers, mostly immigrants, who comprised the bulk of the number of persons aboard. Many lifeboats left only half full as some of the passengers refused to go, not realizing the urgency of the situation. You can imagine the confusion that reigned.. J. Bruce Ismay apparently saved himself, and at the inquisition later stated that there was no one behind him ready to go, but other reports state that he pushed and shoved his way onto one of the boats.

Two hours and forty minutes after the iceberg rammed a hole in her side, down she went. Of the 2,20l aboard, 711 were rescued by the Carpathia. Probably the most famous survivor was Molly Brown, of "unsinkable" fame, who helped many of the women and children. Famous persons not surviving included millionaires John Jacob Astor and Benjamin Guggenheim. Amazingly, 14 years prior, a man named Morgan Robertson authored a fiction piece about a large similar unsinkable ship named the "Titan," which sank after hitting an iceberg. Was that a coincidence? You decide.

Captain Smith was a hero and went down with the ship.
The eight band members played "Nearer My God to Thee", continuing even as she thrust herself downward and continuing until she was out of sight (the song they were playing has been disputed over the years, but the fact remains that they were also the unsung heroes). Those in the lifeboats reported watching the lights go out one by one.
Harlan and Wolff are still in business building ships in Belfast.
Bruce Ismay was not prosecuted and worked in the industry for four more years before retiring to the country.

The search for the Titanic created a lot of interest in the past, until 1985 when Robert Ballard and his crew discovered the wreck and did a lot of photographic work identifying various object in and near the ship's hull. It was determined to not attempt to disturb the wreckage, and hence not to disturb the souls long departed into their final resting place in their deep chamber. Amazingly, many objects made of bronze and brass seemed as if one were observing them recently, not 100 years later. Many of the artifacts lying at the bottom of the ocean could have been dropped there a year or two ago.

 I found a fantastic website where you can read the whole story and more and I suggest browsing it if you have any interest in reading the story further: www.titanicstory.com

You cannot come away from this exhibit without feeling as if you were waiting in New York for a loved one to arrive; confusion abounded, and at first it was reported that all had survived.  The icebergs are melting now, and as they do so, and with modern technology, this probably would never happen again. But, what will happen if all of the icebergs melt? Yes, this is the question we ponder 100 years after the "queen of the deep" ended her short life in the icy waters of the Atlantic.

 In the afternoon I took the Hop On, Hop Off bus for a tour around the city and saw many things I would have been unable to see on my own individually. Driving through the part of the city where "The Troubles" occurred for thirty years (until the Good Friday agreement of 1998), the Peace Wall, the Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods, the violence that occurred--it was a bit unsettling  Peace has now come to Northern Ireland after 14 years, but many who lost loved ones are finding it hard to forgive and forget. Many interesting murals were along the route and I was able to get photos of some of the most interesting.    

My hostess, Honor, met me at Queens University, and showed me around; we visited the chambers of the administration upstairs and also the fantastic brand new library with its special reading room dedicated to C.S. Lewis. We got a bite to eat at a cafe across the street and she dropped me back at her house before attending her evening meeting. The news reports that 3 inches of rain total are expected before it comes to a halt. I wish there were a way to send some of it to our West and Midwest. 

While waiting at the University for Honor, I discovered nearby a very old graveyard, Friar's Bush. The entrance is an arched gothic gate lodge, built about1820.  I noted a phone number and that interested persons may telephone the Belfast City Council for more information. The place looked really interesting.

September 25, 2012

 S.O.S.  SEND BOAT

September 24, 2012

GOODBYE BALLYMONEY, HELLO BELFAST

It rains every Monday in Northern Ireland; what I mean to say is that it Pours Cats and Dogs. Of course this was the day that I was to come to Belfast.  I survived!  The bus brought me to the City Centre in an hour and a half trip, and my ATC hostess, Honor Baird, picked me up to take me to her home on the outskirts of the city.

I had a wonderful time both at the Conference and at the home of Mattie McAllister. I cannot begin to write all that we did and all that I learned. I will need to do a separate blog for the Family history itself. I need to do a lot more research but today just before leaving Ballymoney I received a number of clues which I will need to follow up on, hopefully while I am still here. My notebooks and suitcase are filled with little pieces of paper, which I am trying to put all together in one place. Mattie was a fabulous hostess and we had a lot of fun together with another woman who stayed at her lovely house, Janice from Florida.

 
Our last night there we all went out to dinner in Port Rush, a seaside Holiday town. Note pics of Mattie's fish pie, before and after.

 

Yesterday I went to a service at the Reformed Presbyterian Church in Ballymoney and just by chance was seated by a woman who gave me a number of clues. If I can find the records of the church where the Kirks attended back in the mid 1700's, I can start looking for any records that may exist. In those days, many could not read and write, so signed documents with an X.

Now, getting the suitcases ready to go to Belfast (on the bus).  I realized that one month from yesterday I will be leaving to go home to Colorado.  But first ...   Belfast, Paris, and Normandy/Brittany.  I have never done so much in a short time in my entire life.  I hope to come back if the Conference is held again in two years but I must ask God to send the rain where it is needed more

Evelyn Robinson, mayor of Ballymoney; Keith Beattie, town hall manager and Janice McKay, conference attendee

Sarah Kirk, harpist

Here are some pics from the Conference:

 

 

 

ARRIVAL IN BELFAST

Honor made tea for me after we got my suitcase in and helped me research what I want to do the next two days. Tomorrow I prebooked to go on the hop on, hop off bus, to get an overview of Belfast. I want to see the murals from The Troubles and to spend at least a half day at the Titanic Building, recently opened and six stories high. You can see the last footprint made by a person before the ship sailed 100 years ago this year. The building opened to commemorate this anniversary. I enjoyed the traveling exhibit that was in Denver a number of years ago and hope to learn as much as possible.  I'm glad the bus is not an Open Tour as it is to rain all the days I am to be here. It is also raining in Paris but the day I go home it is to be cloudy.

Honor made us a meat pie and green beans for dinner; it was very nice and now I am going to relax some before the big day tomorrow.

September 18, 2012

IN BALLYMONEY (Mathew left here to go to America)

A rainy, blustery, rainy day which began in the night and continued all morning. What a day! Liz's friend, Fern, gave me a ride to Ballymena, where I was able (through blustery and blowing rain) to find the bus to Ballymoney, which was only a five minute wait. The drive took about 40 minutes and wound mostly along farmland. Upon arrival in Ballymoney at the bus stop, I stopped in a shop and used their phone to call the hostess at my B&B, Mattie McAllister, who came to town to give me a lift to her house, which is about a 10 minute walk from the town center, and we arrived back at her house mid-morning.

Mattie made me some great organic porridge with honey, tea and toast. I am stressed out from coffee and decided then and there to give it up totally for awhile. It will take a few days. In the afternoon, I rested awhile and checked email, after which I decided to take a walk to the town as the sun had come out and it had briefly stopped raining. With umbrella in hand and my rain jacket and scarf, off I went. I didn't get very far when  a gale force wind and rain attacked me and blew my umbrella inside out; it also blew my little map I was carrying to another planet. Small hailstones were raining down at me. The Gods must have been angry.

Back at Mattie's, I took off all the wet clothes and rested for awhile, and tried to get my conference notes together. She graciously invited me to share her dinner of shepherd's pie, potato cakes and my favorite, root vegetables (I am totally addicted to parsnips and back at the hostel we had carrot and coriander soup, so I now love anything with root vegetables.) Later in the evening, Janice from Florida arrived, and will also attend the conference. I totally jinxed the shower and the TV in my room as the shower would not turn off and the TV screen faded into oblivion. Mattie spent a long time trying to figure out the TV but she finally decided she might call someone in the morning; however, she was able to get the shower turned off. I had been cold all day on this very raw day and she put an electric blanket on my bed, which was absolutely yummy to crawl into and read for a few minutes. I can't believe I am in a place I have thought one day I might come for about twelve years. Tomorrow the research and networking with other genaeologists will begin.

I wonder if it rained so much when Mathew and his family lived here. Maybe the people here invented the umbrella.

Ballymoney means "Time of the Moss" or "Time of the Strawberry"

September 18, 2012

ANCESTORS IN THE ATTIC

Most of you know that one of the reasons I wanted to visit Northern Ireland was to walk in the footsteps of my ancestors.  My great great great great grandfather, Mathew Kirk, went to America in 1772 with his two older brothers, leaving his parents and younger brother behind..  Conditions for the Scots-Irish Protestants had become unbearable as the Irish landlords kept raising their rents to a point where they were impossible to pay, and at the same time the linen industry was beginning to decline. Parishioners in the five parishes of Rev. William Martin, at his suggestion, decided many of them would go to America to start a new life. Mathew, together with his two brothers, John and Robert, set sail from Larne on the (I believe) ship, John and Mary.  About six months later the ships arrived separately in Charleston Harbor, some of the ships were found to have smallpox on board.

Life in America was not exactly what the new settlers had thought, but they were given land although the plots were not all close together and the new settlers had no tools to work with. The new government wanted the land to be settled.

It has been documented that John served in the American Revolution and as a result received land from the American government near Murfreesboro, TN, where he raised his family.  Not much is known about Robert, except that he may have had four wives (one at a time) and many children. Robert and Mathew both were loyalists during the Revolution and served briefly in the militia (Mathew would have only been 16 or 17 at the time). The Kirk family remained in South Carolina and Mathew is buried in the churchyard in Lancaster Co. near Charleston.

For reasons yet unknown to me, Mathew's son, James Johnston Kirk, at some point relocated his family to Wilcox County, Alabama, where his daughter, Mary Elizabeth Kirk (my great great grandmother) was born. This family of eight children lived in Civil War times, and a copy of a journal written by her brother, William Robert Kirk, has come down through the family to me. William was a chaplain in the Civil War, and the diary is invaluable in its description of the times then, even to a description of each brother and sister, as well as their parents, both to their appearance and their personality.  Many of William's brothers and brothers-in-law were either killed or taken prisoner while fighting for the Confederacy with a unit from Wilcox County.

Mary Elizabeth married a widower and  together they had five children; shortly after the marriage, he passed away, leaving her to raise the children alone. One of the daughters. Margaret Jane Davis, was my great grandmother, who married Marion Sheffield (he also fought in the war at the age of 16 alongside his father; they both were mustered out before the war ended).   And the family continues on down through my grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Sheffield (Nonnie Mitchell) and my father, Clay Mitchell, to me, the investigator of this real life drama.

I hope that this trip to Ballymoney will bring amazing insights into the way in which my 5 greats grandparents and their son lived, and with any luck, since I am attending a conference of many people looking for the same thing, possibly find the descendants who remained in Northern Ireland.  This has been in my head for over ten years, and so I go the way of the wayward ancestor, searching for I know not what, but sure that I will indeed find links to this amazing story, uncovered first by me about twelve years ago. Stay tuned to my blog to learn about my quest and what I learn. The conference features renowned speakers about the life and time back then, and I trust we will tromp through at least one old graveyard, searching, as before stated from the Russian fairy tale, "I know not what, the path is long, the way unknown."

You know this is going to be a book.



                                

       

September 16, 2012

THE ENCHANTED FOREST

Today it did not rain and was a bit warmer. I returned to Glenariff Forest Park for one more visit before I leave the area. The cafe, which has been there since 1891, was open and I spoke with the woman at the counter, telling her that I walked the Scenic Trail on Tuesday. She said, "But, oh, you must do the Waterfalls Trail," so off I went. This trail is only 3k long, but on this route one sees one great waterfall after another with the ferns and forest framing this natural area. Each one was better than the last. I can't wait to download the photos. The 2928 acres containing the park were also used for timber production centered around the clearfelling of coniferous planting trees. The walkway opened 80 years ago.

The park reminded me of one of our state parks in PA, Rickets Glen. There weren't many people on the trail and the day was most enjoyable.  Afterwards I stopped back at the cafe for homemade vegetable soup. From this area back to the hostel is about a 25 minute walk.

In the evening a number of  people arrived at the Ballyeamon Barn for storytelling and song. New guests at the Barn included two couples from the States, one couple from France and a woman from Holland, and we were entertained all evening by some of the local musicians as well as stories by Liz, and one by Isabelle, her intern, as well as a few by Judith, an American storyteller from the Midwest.

September 15, 2012

  IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE GIANT

 A fantastic experience this week was visiting the Giant's Causeway, the windiest place in Ireland (perhaps the giant's breath is making us aware he is still out there somewhere).  Sixty million years ago, the Giant's Causeway was created as the result of intense volcanic and geologic activity, causing the cooling and shrinking of successive lava flows. The result was a geological wonder with over 40,000 interlocking basalt columns. The recently opened new Tourist Center provided information and comfort, and just outside were the walking trails. All of this made for a great afternoon.

The day started off quite rainy but by the afternoon was only cloudy and mid-afternoon the sun came out as I followed two different trails, onl along the cliffs and the other to the bottom of the hill to the Causeway itself. All of this while, I was listening to the audiophone describe the formation of the Causeway and the story of the Giant, Finn McCool, trying to keep the camera steady without being blown away.


The Giant's Causeway is steeped in myth and legend. Carved from the coast by the might giant, Finn McCool, who left behind an ancient home full of foklore. Local people believe that between the hexagons, the mythical features carved out in the rocks and the tumbling sea, there's real magic. You will see it if you come to this place, stand on the stones and uncover the legends. You can read the story of Finn and how he foiled the bad giant from Scotland, Bendonner, or I can tell it to you sometime (wikipedia/suite101.com/article/the-legend-of-finn-mccool). Finn's foot was 93 feet long, so you get an idea from the pic of his boot in the middle pic below.

On the way home we stopped to look at the great scenery.  We saw the Rope Bridge but we did not walk across it; I would like to do that, but not on a windy day. Below, me with Isabelle, Liz and Mara

On Thursday a group of blind people and their leaders (12 people) came to visit from Surrey, near London. I was thrilled to be invited to join them, and it was a wonderful afternoon of music and storytelling followed by a very nice meal. I made a small video with my camera. Nice people.

Friday it was rainy again, and Liz took me to Cushendall to visit the craft shop there, which was great and was something nice to do as it did rain all day long.

September 13, 2012

 BALLYEAMON BARN

I have been here at the Ballyeamon Barn now for 4 days. You may wonder how I got to a hostel in the countryside just near Cushendall and it has been a very busy time.

 BALLYEAMON BARN

About five years ago, while attending the Conference on World Affairs (a wonderful yearly event every April in Boulder) I met Liz Weir and listened to her stories and folk tales. She told us that her home was in County Antrim, and I remembered that my great great great great grandfather emigrated from there to America in 1772. Liz mentioned that she owned a hostel there, and I guess I put this into my brain bank.   I was to have stayed in France for six months and was not able in any way, shape or form to get the visa in time (a big and expensive nightmare). I needed to stay in France until the end of October and had to find somewhere to visit that was not in the Schengen zone, composed of most of the EU countries as well as the Scandinavian countries and Iceland.  The UK became obvious and, after thinking what I should do, I remembered that I always wanted to visit the area where my long ago ancestor, Mathew Kirk, lived.  One thing led to another, and after emailing Liz, I learned that the apartment at her hostel was available in mid September. After another email to Ballymoney Tourist Office, they wrote me that they were hosting a conference on Family History for four days, which amazingly was to take place the same days I wanted to visit there. Of course I signed up!  Lastly, I contacted a woman from my travel club, ATC, in Belfast and learned she would be available to host me the last three days of this possible trip.   OK, I will do it!

You already have read about my arriving here on the famous FLYBE flight.

Sunday evening, after the yoga class, KiKay, the barnman here, cooked a fabulous dinner for us with salmon, potatoes, vegetables, and some wine.  KiKikay (not his real name) is from Argentina, although he has traveled quite a bit and for years did business with a N.Y. firm and lived in New Jersey. He travels to different hostels, working and helping out, and got rid of all of his possessions, so now all that he owns is in one suitcase.

I was so tired Sunday night, and it felt great to crawl into a comfy bed after yoga and a wonderful meal. 
Tuesday was the Anniversary of 9/11 and all over the world, not just in America, people remember that terrible day where we learned that yes, a war could be fought on American soil.  We aren't complacent anymore. May those events never occur again for our country or any other country around the world, although I fear the consequences of unresponsible countries having chemical and nuclear weapons.  Please pray for peace.  My one other request is please do vote in November.  You may think you aren't important and it doesn't matter, but every person needs to make his or her voice heard.

On Monday Liz was to attend an event in Ballycastle and, after stopping at the most helpful Visitor Center with her, she dropped me off at the grocery store, which was a co-op.  The clerk there was most helpful, but still no tofu (he said they used to carry it).  We then picked up a new visitor,  Olegver, from Barcelona, who has been traveling around Ireland.

The evening was most enjoyable.  A young woman who helped out previously at the hostel, was here with her family from Barcelona--her sister, parents and grandmother.  I had mentioned that my son, Jim, has an association with the university there in connection with his work, and Olegver observed that tonight we are the "Barcelona Connection."  Mara and her family invited us to share their dinner, and it was great. Her family is leaving in the morning, and I gave her grandmother a bookmark of Rocky Mountain National Park, which she seemed to very much appreciate.

The Barcelona Connection
 Left: Mara's grandmother, sister, Olegver, me, her Dad and Mom

   
It has been raining ever since I arrived, but on Tuesday the rain and sun shared the weather scene. In the afternoon I went walking with Olegver in the Glenariff Forest Park. We hiked the scenic trail and it was fantastic. A few dripdrops came down, but didn't really create a problem. While we were having a snack, a number of rainbows appeared right in front of us.  The waterfalls were fantastic and the hiking great; we calculated we hiked about 12 k, a lot for me since I hadn't done much hiking at all lately.

Glenariff Forest Park,is the most popular  of the Nine Glens of Antrim and is known as "The Queen of the Glens." It is the largest and most beautiful and was scooped out by ice to form a fine example of a glacial u-shaped valley, bounded by rugged precipices. The hills nearby are a patchwork of hill farms, small fields, hedgerows and traditional stone walls. Fast flowing streams and winding rivers run to meet the sea. Roughly translated, Glenariff means "the arable glen." We hopped over two stiles and walked along the road for about 15 min.as the sheep gazed upon us, wondering what new creatures we were.

The Scenic Trail began with a downhill grade, at the bottom of which were two waterfalls (we saw a number of others along the way).   What did this mean? Of course we had to do a number of uphills, one of which was quite intense (it doesn't help if you haven't hiked in months).  It felt so good to be out, and I tried to drink in the smell to make it last. Paris is actually quite polluted (as are most major cities in the world), and it was wonderful to breathe the cool fresh air. I kept thinking, "This is what I have missed," and that I love hiking very much and have let it slip to the mid place on my  priority list.  Fortunately, I have wonderful opportunities waiting for me in our beautiful state of Colorado and elsewhere.  Near the end of our walk, we arrived at a small bridge and just paused there as for a few moments it had turned warmer; we watched many raptors circling the hill just above us.

 

    "--  In every walk with nature, one receives more than he seeks"  --  John Muir

Kikay told me the day before that he would prepare a French dinner for us, so I had purchased a chicken, mushrooms, etc. at the grocery. It was wonderful when we arrived just after 6 p.m. to have this wonderful dinner waiting for us after walking all day. The food and the company were both great.  Mara and I did the dishes and then off to bed, dreaming of French food and waterfalls.

I am saddened by the killing of our ambassador to Libya and the protests in Libya. We will never have peace in our lifetime; we can only work toward that goal. When the majority of people all around the world make the determination to accomplish peace, perhaps that mindset will be contagious. we must never give up hope, for from hope springs roots which grow and thrive.

September 10, 2012

THE JURY'S STILL OUT

I am behind on my blogs but have a firm commitment to catch (eventually).  It doesn't look like many people are reading them, gone and forgotten in the wilds of Northern Ireland.  Everyone was so good at first, sending emails and cozy messages.  But,   I must plod onward, as this is my personal journal as well as my blog.  It would be nice to hear from folks but I realize people do have a life of their own.

I finally caught up with my life after a 24 hour travel nightmare and finally fell like a person again!

It all started with a lovely day in Paris; sunny, blue skies.  ....   I allowed plenty of time to get to the airport  as I hadn't been there yet by myself.  I was to leave from Terminal 2 E  (the new terminal).  Perhaps it was an omen that the night before I read on google that this particular terminal had collapsed right after its opening in 2004, killing two people. Now that is where I was headed.

I was concerned about being able to handle my bigger valise plus the carry-on and my backpack, but some trusted it to the universe.  My neighbor took the case down to the first floor for me and I walked the one block to the bus stop. The bus arrived in 5 minutes and from that moment on, so many people helped me with my case it was unbelievable (3 people both on the bus and when I got off).  I had already purchased my ticket for the RER to Charles deGaulle airport and and clerk there told me about the elevator going both down and up to stop 2B.  As I was finding the elevator, a young man came alone and said he would carry the case, no problem.  This was a Saturday and the train wasn't very crowded, maybe 60% full. 
At the stop right before Terminal 1 (international) almost all of the people got off at a huge convention center (I have no idea what it was about). The man sitting across from me had a shirt on that said MADRID so I asked him if he is from Spain, and he said he was from Romania (he looked like a soccer or rugby player). We started talking and he ended up hauling the case off the train and walking with me to where his terminal met Terminal E.  I found my Flybe check-in and went through security and our boarding area, noticing I had about one hour until the boarding would begin.   I bought a sandwich and walked around for awhile, returning in a little while, only to learn that our flight had been delayed by at least two hours.

Back upstairs to walk around in all the expensive shops that you find in any airport terminal, returning again right before our two hours would have been up.  The clerk at our boarding gate was sorry to inform us that our flight was delayed longer and was now projected to depart at 7:30 p.m.  Soon after he announced that they were giving all of us a voucher to get a meal.  I wasn't hungry at the moment, so back upstairs to look around some more and decided to read the French newspaper someone had left on the train.   There was an area with big comfy chairs, and I settlled in, feeling very smart and comfortable sitting there reading "Le Monde"" (I can actually understand most of it).  Shortly thereafter, I recognized that the woman sitting across from me was on my flight, so we got in conversation. She was Maya, an engineer from Paris, whose company was sending her to school for an intensive English course near Exeter (our plane's first stop before going on to Belfast). She was most interesting, and we talked about my living in Paris and this and that and how long our flight might be delayed.  At that point I was hungry again so went upstairs to the Food Court, which is much nicer that the ones in U.S. airports, and used my voucher for a salad, some Chinese dish with chicken and noodles, and a drink.  Now only a few more hours to go, right?

I hadn't found a good book to bring and had tired of Le Monde, so the only thing left to do was to edit my book (no more excuses).  I worked on it for about an hour and a half, in between purchasing a huge blueberry muffin and yummy hot chocolate.  We now learned that our flight might be delayed even longer People were getting upset, and most were only going to Exeter!  Some of us got to know each other and we had each questioned the various clerks as to the reason for the delay.  We got every answer from weather to anything else.  The nicest clerk upstairs told me that it was all because the cleaning person didn't show up to clean the plane in Exeter, after which it was discovered the plane needed some device, and one other thing happened to create a huge snowball effect.

FINALLY we learned the plane was on its way, and all the tired people boarded at about 8:30 p.m.  I had been in contact both by Internet and phone (bought a phone card) with Liz, my hostess at the Balleamon Barn near Cushendall.  Our original plan was that Sun. afternoon I would catch a bus from Belfast to Ballymena and she would pick me up after her work there for that day.  Ha!  I was lucky to be able to reach her both by email and on the phone.  The Charming upstairs agent approached me with apology and told me that the airline would not be continuing on the Belfast that night and that Flybe would put me up at a hotel in Exeter.  One other lady had the same issue.  HERE WE GO AGAIN.  Little did I know that Mai and I would become good friends in the 24 hours we were to spend together.

 

Exeter Airport was a dark little place with nobody there at that time.  Mai and I were expecting that the people there had received the message that we would need a hotel and would be waiting for us with open arms.  We always learned not to have expectations, so arriving there the three women on duty did not have any idea who we were or why we were there.  After finagling around and a lot of unnecessary calls and questions, they finally found did the paperwork to get us a hotel in Exeter, and breakfast the next morning. We stayed in a nice hotel, The Jury's Inn (a chain) and the people were fantastically nice and the breakfast even more fantastic.  We got some rest, about 6 hours, and the taxi came to take us back to the airport. Our taxi driver told us that Flybe is having a lot of problems and that they send their planes all over the place to pick up people here and there on flights that aren't scheduled.  No wonder our first pilot told us he had to go to the south of France to pick up some people!

Back with Flybe, they had decided to send us to Edinborough, Scotland, and then on to Belfast.  The flights were both short and uneventful and the Belfast City Airport was a godsend as opposed to the big international one at the edge of the city.   Liz, my hostess and international writer and storyteller, was there to pick me up, God Bless Her - we arrived at her hostel, Ballyeamon Barn, right before 4 p.m., just in time for her friend, Fiona, to give a yoga class for 7 of us; it was great after my body being cramped on all those planes, buses and taxis.  So even tho the Jury's Inn was a nice place for us to be rescued to, actually the jury's still out on Flybe -  my prediction is that they won't be around much longer.

I think I'm going to like it here.

September 6, 2012

ALMOST TO PERFECT (AGAIN)

How it could happen again so soon I have no idea; this will be short -   Just saw what probably is the best film I've seen all year and want to recommend it.  I am still laughing through my tears.  

LES SAPHIRS (French) or THE SAPPHIRES (English) is one of those movies that you keep wishing wouldn't end. An official selection at Cannes, it is billed as a comedy but has a fantastic story, based on true events, about four Aboriginal girls in Australia in 1968 who want to escape the life laid out before them. They go to Melbourne and win a contest where they meet up with Dave, with whom they share the newspaper article they have discovered advertising for singers to entertain the troops in Vietnam during the war.

This is a fantastic story of four very ordinary Aboriginal girls who accomplish extraordinary things.  

Please don't miss it; do make it a priority to see it no matter what, even if you have to give up chocolate!

September 5,  2012

 OBSERVATIONS AND HAPPENINGS

My Australian friend has returned to London to spend a little more time before going home.  This blog is just "stuff."   Just returned from seeing a fantastic film, Lady Vegas, with Bruce Willis, Carolyn Zeta-Jones, et. al.  Fabulously entertaining.   The first time I've seen a film in English with French subtitles.  There was only one other guy in the theatre.  I highly recommend that all my friends see this if it comes your way.

Sometimes trying to buy things you need can be a challenge.  One day I walked to the bigger grocery up the hill and tried to buy a corkscrew.  Now I knew no one would know it by that name. Not seeing a clerk anywhere near the wine section to ask, I approached the security guy near the door, asking if he could call someone so that I could ask a question.  He asked me to explain it to him and he could not understand, so he called a clerk who also could not understand.  She got another woman, and I proceeded to pretend I was holding a bottle in my left hand and opening it with my right hand, and then drinking from it (I always wanted to do demos in grocery stores), using the words that I know for wine, open and drink -- vin, ouvrez and boire.  Oh, the last lady got it and smilingly said to us, "Oh, un bourchon!"  and they all started laughing and I started laughing.  She took me to the kitchen gadgets area where we found the device and I told them all that in America we call it a corkscrew, and we all started laughing again.

Next day, shopping with my neighbor, I told her that I would like to find peanut butter; she had never heard of it and googled it on her "google translator" which many people here have on their phone.  With the proper spelling in hand, she asked a grocery clerk if they had it and he shrugged his shoulders unknowingly. He got another clerk who also looked in the dark after reading the word on the google translator.  A woman shopper overheard the whole conversation and said, Oh, I know where peanut butter is!  She proceeded to lead us to the "Foreign Imported Products" section and there was SKIPPY (next to products from Spain).


I think the most amazing thing we saw this week was in Montmartre--the toilet.  A clerk in a fabric shop told us that the toilet across the street was perfectly fine and safe to use and was free. So there we find an amazing technological device. After each use, the door shuts, and the unit cleans the toilet electronically; another light then comes on and the unit cleans the floor; you cannot enter until four lights have gone on and off and then you push a button to go in and another to come out. A second person may not go in until this whole cleaning process is completed once again. The water basin is around the back of the toilet
so that a person can wash without interfering with the process of the people waiting to use the toilet.

       On our way home one day from the city we saw something quite scary.  We were waiting for the bus to go back to Vaujours when we saw a motorcycle fly by going very fast, followed by a police car that was chasing the cycle. The third time around, he turned right quite sharply, and as we had by that time boarded the bus, which was waiting to turn that same corner, we saw all this firsthand.  The cyclist could not control his  bike and as he turned that sharp corner, flew off it and landed on the opposite sidewalk. The bike was in the road. We of course were in the front of the bus and witnessed the whole thing. Of course the police were right there since they were the ones following him; quite soon other emergency personnel and an ambulance arrived.  By this time a crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, and we became aware that our bus was not going anywhere up that road, and the bus driver confirmed this. So we walked home, never having any idea what happened to the cyclist. We did see him move his legs and medical personnel were thoroughly checking him out.  I am only happy that no child or adult happened to be crossing the street or on that sidewalk at that particular moment.  I doubt if the cyclist will be joyriding again anytime soon.

Observation:  I think that French people are basically more polite than Americans EXCEPT when they are driving a car, at which point their objective is to get where they are going as fast as possible. Crossing the street can at first be terrifiying, as the green "walk light" has no significance to most drivers, and they think, "Go go go" so you have to be very careful when in fact you do cross the street.  In Paris I immerse myself into the throng and am protected on all side.  When you are at a crossing, you are so surprised when the driver motions you to go across!  I think the comparison here for them is like our "turn right on red" but it would be helpful if the law gave pedestrians more of a chance!   I must mention that I was impressed in Australia when the "OK to cross" sign was accompanied by a blaring horn; this idea is great for seniors (moi) or handicapped persons.

But I am impressed with the politeness of complete strangers and of shop and restaurant owners with whom it is such a pleasure to say "Bonjour" and "Au revoir."   A few times I have made calls to various tourist offices and during a second call the response is, "Oh yes, Mrs. Booth."   

The mail is delivered by a woman on her bicycle (bicyclette) and Sat. deliveries are done here as in the states. The Holidays are over and people are back to work; this week the children started school. The weather has been warm but not hot; about a week ago we had some more fall like days (about 67 degrees) and I was shocked to see many people wearing their winter coats, tams, with warm scarves; I wonder what they will wear when the real winter arrives.    The trees in the city have just a slight touch of change, and I am sure they will be quite beautiful.   

Before I leave on Sat. to go on my own Holiday, I will go to see another film, "Les Saphirs," from Australia, which will be in English - it is a selection from Cannes and is a comedy with Jessica Mauboy from "Bran Nua Dae," the film I saw in Woy Woy about an Aboriginal people and from which I've been meaning to try to get the sound track.  This current film is a comedy about a group of four young Aboriginal Australian women who are singing for the troops in Vietnam, and the playbill says it was inspired by true events. Stay tuned for my personal review.

And, getting back to the post and mail, I never gave most of you my mailing address.  I would love to receive real mail that I can hold in my hand.  Since my birthday is not too far off, this is not a request but a decree from God himself.   My mailing address is:  Mme. Bonnie Booth,   c/o J. Philippe Ostermann, appartment 421, 1 allee du Parc, Vaujours 93410 France. Mail takes about 6 days from the states.

And now, back to my work here for the day.  The library does not have a large choice for books in English, but just picked up John Irving's "Last Night in Twisted River."  Can I read 658 pages in two days?  We shall see.

August 24

MONTMARTRE

Today was a good one.  We took the Metro to Montmartre and had the whole day to explore. Debbie was thrilled to find Place de St. Pierre, a whole street of fabric shops, and had a difficult time deciding which ones to purchase.  A tough job, but someone had to do it; I don't sew and admired from afar.  The clerk here was the one who suggested the toilet across the street (more about it later).

We then wandered up the hill and back down to the boulevard, wanting to make sure where we were to meet our walking tour in the afternoon.  It was fun looking through the shops, and a few dripdrops of rain arrived, only to disappear after the vendors had moved all of their stuff inside.   Settled for lunch of crepes (mine was salmon filled, really good) and had a table where we could watch the people go by. It was a bit startling to see Michael Jackson outside our window, posing with tourists (what an innovative startup business!)

We then learned that the metro stop we thought was the meeting place was the wrong one, so we literally flew up the hill and arrived just in time to meet our group and our leader, Cerise, who is British and previously known as Cherry, which is cerise in French. There were 18 people in our group and I cannot begin to make notes of all that we saw, but will try to touch a few highlights.  I was impressed by the professionalism; this groups leads walks to different areas on different days of the week-- I must do the Hemingway one and the Resistance and the Occupation (after of course seeing the film, Sarah's Key and reading "Suite Francaise").   There is another walking tour group, Discovery Walks, which is free and of course tips expected; these are led mostly by university students and take place every day, somewhere.  I'll let you know if I discover them.     

 Later in my stay another friend and I will visit the beaches of Normandy.  Learning about a country where WW II was fought on their soil and the destruction and losses cannot be imagined by most Americans, I don't think--of course we have fought and lost in foreign places where we didn't belong, but you don't see it all the time. I'm learning a lot about both Normandy and Brittany by doing this research.  This will be my birthday trip.

 We wound around the area and Cherie showed us many of the famous gourmet markets, where we wanted to return but couldn't find later. 

 Down the street she pointed out the location of the Moulin Rouge.  Back near the Abbess metro, we sat on benches and learned about the artist who created a huge wall, writing I Love You in over 300 different languages, including Braille.

  It just got better.  Upward we wound and passed the apartment where Van Gogh lived for awhile, followed by the studio of Toulouse Latrec.  I couldn't believe I was seeing all of this.  Montmartre back then was a cheap area to live in, being outside the Paris zone and thus not having to collect the taxes that the Parisians paid. Many people flocked there to buy wine also, which I learned was not always the best quality. 

the famous windmills

Next we saw the mansion which was owned by the singer Dalida, second in popularity in France only to Edith Piaf, where she tragically ended her life.  Cherie pointed our one of the two remaining windmills in Montmartre, the Moulin de la Galette, Renoir's famous painting; it is now a restaurant.

 Every street had something to reveal to us as we made our way to the final destination of the Basilica Sacre Coeur. Now we were at the home where Renoir lived with his family and nearby the Lapin Agile, the cafe where Picasso and Modigliani were regulars. Near a small courtyard is the statue of St. Denis, patron saint of France, and the fountain where he is reputed to have stopped to wash off his head, after being beheaded in the third century and carrying his head down the hill. The statue depicts him carrying his head.

 
  Nearby is the pink house made immortal by painter Maurice Utrillo (I didn't know of him before visiting l'Orangerie) and next the Musee de Montmartre, from which we peeked in and could see the courtyard; it was here that a number of French artists lived, including Renoir.

where Renoir lived with family

We saw the vineyards through the iron fence, and learned that the wine really isn't very good. The first Saturday in October there is a Harvest Festival here.  We wound through the many tourists, artists and street vendors at Place du Tertre (near here is the St. Pierre de Montmartre church, which can be explored if there is time.

My legs were starting to become like jelly after all of that uphill walking and I was happy when we reached our final destination, the Basilica de Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) on the hill, from which one can see all over the city. It was built because the church St. Pierre de Montmartre was no longer large enough for the growing population. The Basilica stands on the highest point of the city, and is visible all over the city.  the church is a parish of pilgrimage and a 24 hour vigil has been held here continuously for nearly a century.  Work on the basilica began in 1876; twenty-eight horses were needed to draw the wagon of the Savoyarde bell, one of the world's largest.  Visitors may climb to the stained glass gallery in the dome for a view of the church's interior.   I would have liked to do this if we had not walked all morning and had taken the funicular from the metro stop to the top of the hill.

Time to close the musings for this day; just enough time to see where Paris Walks is walking over the weekend.

 We had a really nice day today, highlighted by the walking tour we did with Paris Walks. I was very impressed with the professionalism of our leader, and liked the small group of 18.  The tour was well worth the 12 euros price and we learned a lot in our two and one half hours of exploring this area.