Swimming with the tide...

Thursday dawned clear and sunny. 

After a couple of days of cold, very cold for August, temperatures and torrential rain, it would have been foolish of me not to have packed my bag and headed for the coast.

We arrived early, Tashi and I, and were surprised to see a high tide. I don't think we've ever been to that particular beach when the castle has been sitting on an island, it was quite strange, even though I have a large photographic print of just that scene, I had never seen it in the flesh, as it were.

There were several people on the beach, stripping off and preparing to plunge into the sea.

It was chilly, still only just past nine o'clock and with a stiff breeze blowing off the water. 

I hesitated. For a few seconds. And then, with Tashi safely in the car that was parked right by the beach, I stripped off and followed them.   

I didn't swim out to the castle.
I haven't really done much sea swimming for, oh, fifty years, not since my family lived on the Rock of Gibraltar and we swam in Rosia Bay, I've mostly done lengths in a chlorinated pool or splashed about with The Ragazzi as I taught them to swim, so I'm out of practice.

The waves lapped against my face, the retreating tide pulled me out to sea, I caught a knee on a submerged rock and it was cold, very cold.

But, I reminded myself, not as cold as that ice hole in the frozen Finnish lake that I keep saying I'll jump into one of these winters. And it was fun to be bobbing about in the sea on a Thursday morning when I could have been sitting at a desk in a corporate cage.

And there was a lovely feeling of companionship with the other swimmers.
Especially the large brown dog that joined me. No, I told her embarrassed owner who was standing on the beach, I didn't mind having her doggy paddle alongside me.

And then, grinning like a kid, I sat on the sand wearing a jacket on top of my wet costume and with a towel wrapped around my goosebumpy legs, and sipped coffee from my thermos flask, and thought that life can be wonderful.

Several hours, a shopping trip to Ploumanac'h and lunch in Trégastel later, the tide was low and Tashi and I were able to walk towards the castle.

Do you remember that place among the rocks where at low tide there appeared to be a perfect little swimming place? When I first found it I decided to return to check it out when I had my swimsuit and towel with me so...

 

Tashi was able to stand on the sand right nearby and bark without disturbing the snoozing sunbathers way back on the beach, and I was able to walk a few steps and then plunge into a channel that was deep enough for me to swim and calm and warm enough for it to be a pure pleasure.

I floated, I dipped and dived, I splashed and I swam.
And then we padded back towards the car, clambering over rocks and wading through rock pools and slopping over muddy channels, and dripping wet from my swim, to lie on the beach and let the sun dry me.

.

Circuit training green-style

Yes, the title is a play on words. 

Words are My Thing now that I am working to extract the IT from my DNA, no mean feat after forty years working with technology but I am making progress. Some days I do not even think about cyber security and malware and complex code written to steal an identity, the contents of a bank account, a digital life.

Working on the mind, and working on the body.

In the nine years since I returned to the corporate cage my body has aged considerably. Cancer aside, all of that time sitting at a desk has not been good for me and added to the stresses, well, I am not fit and healthy. 

Time to address that.

And where better than the Green Gym outside my house?  

So most morning (and some afternoons, depending on who is around and how much I care to exercise in public and surrounded by over-friendly dogs), I step out in my now-customary black trousers and white T-shirt, and enjoy my exercise al fresco.

Starting with the old wooden bench which is a perfect height on which to step up and down, thus working the muscles that support my knees which are, after years of skiing and riding, quite without cartilage and which were, four years ago, threatened with replacement. I am keen to hang onto my body parts for as long as possible so I work on my leg muscles a lot.

Moving on to the sundial. It was built and decorated by the people of Drayton to celebrate the new millennium. During the summer evenings the local youths often hang out here, as  can be witnessed by the empty beer bottles, cigarette ends and general rubbish that they leave behind. I usually arrive armed with a carrier bag and while others are tutting and shaking their heads and complaining, I set to work to tidy it up. And then I do my calf stretches on the wall, while checking out the horses and ponies in the neighbouring field.

And on to bench presses...
Unless one of the local chaps is sitting on the bench, in which case I usually stop, sit and chat with him because socialising is an exercise that is good for everyone and he always teaches me something new, or shares with me some story from his long and well-lived life.

This is followed by another old bench. This one is by the pond so as I stretch my hamstrings and do some step-ups, I can check out the year's tadpoles and look for newts and even, as I once did, gaze with awful fascination at a large leech hanging out in the water.

And if that piece of gym equipment were ever to be occupied, there is another one nearby.

I love ballet.
Not to do it, you understand, although I surely would if I could, but to watch with wonder and admiration the fitness of the dancers and how supple and toned they are. And so I do a few exercises at the barre and have, in a box in the conservatory where I am storing my belongings as I pack for my return to France, a ballet barre of my own to be installed when I move back. But it won't be as nice as this one, I think.

Pausing to smell the flowers...

And onto the running track.
It is not long, my running track because I am still working on strengthening my heart and lungs after the tumour treatment which, in the course of killing cancer cells, clobbered my heart somewhat and reduced it to 50% capacity. So I run slowly along the track.

If you look closely you can see the nearby cycle track.
In truth it's the road to Sutton Courtney but it's popular with pedallers at the weekend.

And onto the next running track where the dog is usually ahead of me and waiting.

And to the bench for a five minute meditation, sometimes ten minutes, if that feels right. Often interrupted by the chap who has the allotment closest to the fence who likes to take a break from digging and chat. And here to so some leg raises which are really good for arthritic knees.

The dog also meditates...
His ancestors are from Tibet.

A shortcut through the organic food hall where, in summer, I am often handed a lettuce and a few vegetables, this happens to me wherever I go, not sure why, I certainly do not look as if I need feeding up.  

To the almost parallel bars, where I stretch out and consider trying to push myself up by my arms but wisely decide I am not ready for that yet. Note the notice board on the telegraph post and the old pump that reminds me that we all age, some of us more decoratively than others!

And so, back to the green and a cool-down as I walk under the walnut trees and back home,
It took me a while to get used to people seeing me working out in public like this. And as luck would have it, it's usually the more serious-minded, less fun-loving locals who catch me at it, but I have learned not to care what people think of me as long as I am kind, decent and honest so...

The Eden Project (Part Three)

It is not all hot and steamy at The Eden Project, for which I was extremely grateful because much as I love steamy rain forests, it was nice to walk into the Mediterranean Biome where you will find:

A perfume garden

A Mediterranean garden

A citrus grove

A South African garden

A Californian garden

"Meander through the landscapes of the Mediterranean, South Africa and California and discover the amazing variety of plants growing in these warm temperate regions of the world.  

With the sweet aromas of herbs in the air, you'll take an unforgettable journey through a paradise of brightly coloured flowers, gnarled trunks and bountiful vines."

(http://www.edenproject.com/visit/whats-here/mediterranean-biome)

The above website has a Google Street View virtual visit which is interesting, but of course you miss the scents of this biome and scents are, for me, what it's all about. 

I remember the cork trees from my childhood. We used to pass them on our way back to The Rock of Gibraltar after sorties into Spain. So exotic in the days before mass foreign tourism, to live somewhere like that, I have only just come to appreciate the courage it took for my parents to move abroad with us.

So, these cork pigs made me smile.

And remember...

 The Rites of Dionysus.

My favourite book, and one that I listen to on Audible when I can't relax sufficiently to fall sleep, which happens most nights since I was first diagnosed, is The Secret History by Donna Tartt.
And if you've read it you'll understand why I was fascinated by this.

Here's the link to The Eden Project site 

A cautionary tale for those who ferment the fruits of the vine.
Or for young Greek scholars in works of fiction.

And then, after meandering, lunch at the Mediterranean Terrace.
Lamb tagine with couscous and a Cornish beer.
Delicious, absolutely delicious.

And my feathered lunch companions thought so too.
I know, perhaps I shouldn't have fed the finches, the blackbird and the robin but I did.
And we all enjoyed the encounter.

A corner of The South African Garden, the fynbos habitat of ever-greens that have to cope with a soil that is low in nutrients and a landscape that is prone to bush fires.  

Today, in the wild, fires are deliberately started because many of the plants will only germinate in the ashes after a fire.

Nature's own phoenix plants.




Back outside, another insect artwork.

And a collection of horses

" James deCaires Taylor's hybrid sculptures fuse oil extraction machinery with the equine form, referencing the working horse whilst drawing attention to our ongoing dependency on fossil fuels and the potential apocalyptic outcome of climate change. Each of the horses has a different rider. The suited figures illustrate an attitude of denial or ambivalence towards our current climate crisis whereas the young riders represent hope in effecting future change."
(http://www.edenproject.com/visit/whats-here/the-rising-tide-sculpture)

There is so much more...

The Core, the outside gardens, the zip-wire ... 

But I hope these posts have given people a taste of The Eden Project and that you'll all go ans visit and support this educational charity and all of those who are dedicated to it. 

The Eden Project (Part Two - Greenery)

Where do I start?

How much do I include?

What do I say?

Perhaps just random pictures that 'speak to me'?

Staring with a pitcher plant.

I had one of these in my kitchen in Brittany because in rural France, especially in 'The Backside of Brittany' as I affectionately call the region in which I semi-live, flies are an issue. There is no escaping that fact. Flies are big in Brittany. They're also big in Normandy, as we discovered during a holiday in the most fabulous large converted barn that I have ever seen. Seriously, it was amazing, but les mouches were a feature that must be endured. Ditto Brittany.

Not being a fan of noxious sprays, I mean, if they kill insects they're not going to be beneficial to humans, or of those strips of yellow sticky paper which I have before now, become entangled in myself, and not liking to have flies fornicating on my worktops and buzzing round my baguettes, I tried installing a fat and hungry pitcher plant. 

It was moderately successful, though not plant enough for the job but I live in hope that one day someone will breed a pitcher plant that can clear a kitchen in minutes.    

I like learning, Those who know me will confirm that. My walls are covered in certificates from 6 week courses on human origins, and Italian/French/Swedish exam passes, to my degree in Modern Languages, and all the rest like gliding, archery, swimming etc etc, proof that I like to learn.

So I like the educational stuff at The Eden Project.

Rice growing.

I should have included these guys in the previous post. I missed them so here they are now. I am pretty sure that given the right tools I could knock up a fairly decent one of these, but since I never have the right tools (witness the day I almost severed my arm while trying to trim as Christmas tree trunk with a new bread knife), I shall desist. For now.
Watch this space.

Lots of pretty flowers ...

Ah yes, food. I am fond of food. Especially that which grows in tropical places.
These are papayas.

and a satsuma...

Sunflowers always remind me of holidays in Umbria when the Ragazzi were children and I was still married. No nostalgia, at least not for the marriage, we are better off apart and much more affectionate and nice to each other when we have several degrees of separation.
But I do miss the sunflowers..

Any guesses?

Yes?

Correct! A banana flower. 

Apparently the banana plant is a herb. 

Should I go into the botanical stuff? Or let you research it if you are so-inclined? 

Love these strelizias.  When I went to Madeira, back in 1987,  I bought three seeds and duly planted them in large pots of a sand and compost mix. And I waited, And  waited, And waited some more. Nothing happened. So once day I thought I'd throw them out and I discovered that one of them had put down a large tap root and lo, it grew into a lovely plant. Patience rewarded. But to see them in all of their glory I recommend a trip to Funchal.
  

Lovely smelling flowers...

Grapes. I once picked grapes, back in 1975. In those days the grape-growers employed groups of teenagers to stay in their barns and travel round the farms picking the grapes by hand. I was a good grape picker, hard-working and enthusiastic, as is my way with any work I am employed to do, so I was promoted to a room in the house and extra rations.

Apparently machines now harvest the grapes.
Which is a shame.
I'd love to pick grapes again.

Orchids

Greenery ...

And finished, for the second part of The Eden Project.

A rather random post, for which I apologise, but that's how I feel right now. Random.
Yesterday I e-mailed The New Employer (with whom I have been employed since 2008) to advise them that there is more chance of a potato growing on a grape vine than of me going back into the Corporate Cage and the world of cyber crime. In so many words...

I have, in effect, burnt my bridges. Which is something I am rather prone to do.
Time to put Plan J into action.
Another fleeing to France, do you think? After all, it has been 10 years since I last escaped from the Rat Race and became A Mouse In France!