November, Come She Will

After returning from the trip, October flew by, and calculating my remaining work hours, my last 'work' day will be 30th November. That will just consist of emptying the remaining things from my desk in the morning before I am presented with 'something' and then go to lunch with the rest of the team. Then it'll be home and apart from a meeting I promised to attend in Ashford in December, I'll have completely finished. At that time I shall clear my computer of of work-related files. Nominally, I do not leave until 1st January, so I suppose there may be a panic, or even a Christmas lunch, but I think not. The interest in moving to Ireland grows, but that is complex as P must keep a base in the UK, for health and family's sake.

It was the Dorset friends get-together on the weekend of the 10th/11th and although I haven't been for many years, P understood me still not wanting to go as it is so close to B's birthday. P took her time going there, leaving on Thursday and coming back via her brother's on Tuesday. On the 9th I went to the cemetery and laid flowers on B's grave. B's ashes have been interred there now for 14 months.but there is still no headstone or any marker. Strangely, the same Kate Wolf track - Shadow of a Life - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8B1hFEthNs came on when I left the cemetery as had played when I left after the funeral. I couldn't phone Doris, Barbara's neighbour and friend at the flats, because she would have asked about the state of the grave and I wanted the day to be peaceful remembrance. I found the dress that B had bought me a Christmas present and decided I would wear it on the 11th as personal remembrance on a day of national remembrance. And it was fine. I still get tearful when I re-read my blog of her death, but that's fine, as well.

And the time moves on ... part 4

For our intermediate stop in Germany we were going to stay at the Sontheimer Wirtshäusle near Heidenheim. This was a last minute booking that P managed to get. It sounded like the place we would enjoy - plenty of schinken, brot und bier. Sadly, that was not to be. The first problem was working out where Sontheim was, even with the satnav, as the directions were vague. Then we had to drive through Heidenheim, a surprisingly large town, in the rush hour. It was only as we arrived that I realised it was the home of Steiff teddybears and even had a museum. We eventually found our lodgings, only to find it locked and a message to phone the owner. P did that and we got in via a coded key safe. What wasn't clear was which bedroom we were in and we managed to walk in on an elderly couple who were quite surprised. Then we cottoned on that the key safe number was also the number of our room. All was fine and we went down to dinner. The food was limited, eclectic and rather pricey – we both had a goat stew at €25 a head, served with just a bowl of plain rice! But we slept well and the breakfast was fine.The journey the next day was to be under 3 hours so we kept off the autobahns to begin. We went by Rothenburg ob der Tauber which is a most attractive town, but it was far busier than I recalled and we didn't stop. Then when we arrived at Wertheim we met huge traffic jams in every direction except that which we were going in. This was because there is a Wertheim Shopping Village and we were travelling on a public holiday - German Unity Day. Travelling on the autobahn was easy as no goods traffic was allowed, but it meant that every rest stop was packed with trucks. We found the money-themed Ibis at Offenbach and settled in.

Money-laundering at the Ibis

In the evening we went to what had been our favourite Greek restaurant, Mykonos, which was still there and still provided huge amounts of very good food at an attractive price. The next day we revisited the town we had lived in for 8 years did some shopping in Kaufhof, then P took some cash from her bank.

Nordring 8, Offenbach

We then drove to Heustenstamm and met A who used to work with P. She is very unwell but we had a pleasant early dinner at the Alt Bahnhof - traditional schnitzel with pfifferlinge. The next day we headed to the Rheingau and the Wispertal. I got myself lost and was then disappointed to find my favourite stop along the Wispertal was now no longer used, so there was no opportunity to retrace, even for a small way, a favourite walk. We then travelled along the Rhine, bought Asbach Uralt at the distillery at Rüdesheim and headed off to Mainz and our shoebox room in an Ibis there. We met A#2 who also used to work with P and had a really nice evening, starting with a walk around Mainz centre and a glass of federweißer (fermenting grape juice), which we had not encountered before, and then a meal at the Heliggeist, a converted 13th C monastery. The next day after driving through the pedestrian centre (oops!) of Mainz we took a slow drive across the Hünsruck to our last German stop at Züsch to stay with J and W. Eating out, we had an Italian meal in a nearby village. The next day we left in the afternoon and drove to Namur and the Casino!

The Citadel and River Meuse, Namur

The river Meuse in Namur was charming and the Casino faced it. The hotel was separate but used the same entrance and harked back to grander days - our room was huge and overlooked the river. We took a drive up to the citadel and that was very impressive. We decided to eat in the Casino/Hotel and had boulets à la Liégeoise (meatballs) which were very good ... better than Swedish meatballs à la Ikea! The breakfast was expensive but the food was delicious - the croissants were gorgeous, large and buttery. We then drove gently to the Dunkerque Auchan to load up on wine (some at only €2.10 a bottle!) before getting the ferry and arriving home about 8pm.

Apart from difficulties with the driving (caused by me, by P, by an old satnav and lack of useable maps) the trip was a success all round and our relationship is well on its way to being re-forged. It was expensive, but that is really only because hotel prices are much the same across this part of Europe. We have even thought about a trip for next year - across Germany to the Harz and, possibly, Berlin. We really liked Bobbio and it would be nice to spend more time in 'Italian' Italy, but apart from the villa and the places we already knew, France did not match my expectations from 20 years ago.

P managed very well with the Parkinson's and I think we could stretch travel days a bit further, to reduce costs. Although she thinks dressing is weird (and is right) I think meeting with P and M in Ireland has really helped her change her approach. Time will tell but we are both really looking forward to the next Irish adventure at Christmas and we have also booked a week at where I stay on Dartmoor for the Spring which we can combine with a visit to my sister's in Truro.

And the time moves on ... part 3

The autostrada bridge collapse in Genoa earlier this year had necessitated a change of plan, but fortuitously I had been reading and watching 'The History of Ireland' and was aware of the role of St Columbanus, who set up a monastery in Bobbio and we had managed to book two nights in the Piacentino in Bobbio itself. As we left France, P told me that I needed to have dipped headlamps on while driving in Italy, but I found the tft screen unreadable which was a problem (and the driver's handbook didn't help; it was only back in the UK that I found the screen brightness adjustment wheel!), so keeping to the speed limit was tricky. It was a bit of struggle getting to Bobbio once we left the autostrada as the signs were not helpful and the only map I had was too small scale to be much help in understanding the size of towns. We finally started crossing Monte Penice near Bobbio and found ourselves amongst dozens of motorcyclists and when we arrived at the town square where the hotel was, it was full of motorcycles. We only found out later that St Columbanus is considered by some to be the patron saint of motorcyclists!

Ponte Vecchio with the Cathedral beyond

The hotel was fine 'though and we were able to leave the car in an enclosed courtyard. The owners did not speak English and Pauline found her Italian was not really good enough yet, but French was a good compromise.The hotel room was nice and old-fashioned and the food was really tasty without being pretentious - just what we had been hoping for but not had earlier in the trip. A local speciality, maccheroni alla bobbiense, is a fond memory. We also had coppa, which reminded us of Corsica. The town itself is charming, from the Ponte Vecchio to the Cathedral and the Abbey. We spent a very pleasant Sunday in the town and could have stayed on, except the South Tyrol called and on Monday morning we left after posting cards.

The basilica of San Colombano

We had the first rain on the way to San Leonardo in Passiria and were running a little short on fuel as we started climbing towards the Jaufen Pass and found the hotel Jägerhof. The South Tyrol is one of the wealthiest regions in the whole EU. It is very picturesque and almost exclusively German speaking, which was no help to P wanting to practice her beginner's Italian! While I slept after the drive P experienced a 'wellness' session which is very popular in the region.

The Jaufen Pass, looking West

Although the hotel was very nice, I did have digestion problems the following day which we put down to my, possibly over-adventurous, choice of  calves head and spinach strudel as a starter the night before. P later also had a stomach upset and that continued for a couple of days, so it was more likely to have been an infective gastroenteritis bug. We had travelled from 20+C to 0C and that may have also had an effect. The next morning, running low on fuel, we were just before the Brenner Pass services when for some unknown reason P directed me off the autostrada. We were able to get back and found fuel just over the border in Austria. Having previously refueled at Vaison La Romaine, we had driven something like 900 Km on a single tank. Austria came and went as we were heading towards Ulm in Germany. That is in part 4.

And the time moves on ... part 2

So June, July and August came and went. My Irish passport arrived, the bees continued to exclude me from part of the garden and the fruit harvest, except for the apricots, was looking quite poor with the hot dry weather. An ache in my right leg which had been annoying me since Christmas continued and I started having problems with my eyes watering ... the joys of ageing. Once the work project had been completed, time flew by to September and 'The Grand Tour'.

I won't recall the endless rows we had about navigation but we have agreed our joint Christmas present this year will be a new whole-Europe satnav with free uploads for life and I'm going update my detailed country atlases as well, as I like to choose my routes, not be told where to go by some computer system, no matter how clever it is. Apart from that, the trip down was reasonably ok, but the food was not great. In Arc-en-Barrois we stayed at the Hotel le Parc, full of stuffed stags heads and skulls! The hotel was quintessentially  'Logis' style, but the food was disappointing, especially the game dish we had. Curiously, as we left the following morning P spotted a restaurant with an LGBT flag flying outside it which she thought might have been more interesting! The second night was at Mas d'Helene near Vaison la Romaine which was rather femininely, florally, pretentious. The meal was tasty but curiously unmemorable. We saw the 'Brake' van arrive the following morning. Brake Bros is a commercial catering firm started in Ashford and it provides bars and restaurants with 'instant' meals and also operates in France. I found the uninteresting food frustrating, which is something for another post, possibly. We had a nightmare drive revisiting Mont Ventoux on the Saturday due to the number of cyclists as there was a Dutch cycling competition going on. While I have every admiration for cyclists tackling such a tough route, the sheer numbers made driving conditions very difficult. After shopping in Draguignan, a military town, we arrived in Seillans late afternoon but found it really hard finding the villa as a Swiss neighbour had 'privatised' the road with signs etc. It was only on reading the villa information after we had settled in that we discovered he had no right to do such and was to be ignored! But nothing mattered, the villa was near-enough perfect for us. All the plans for me to go off walking came to nothing, as lazing by the pool and just unwinding from the work was all that was needed.

On Sunday afternoon P decided to walk into the village and get us pizzas and I said I would use the opportunity to take some Nikki in swimdress photos. That turned out to be quite traumatic as although the villa was mostly hidden on a quiet lane, a French couple insisted on attracting my attention.

The 'flight or fight' response kicked in and, perhaps after being out and about in Ireland, I decided to confront the couple. There was no way I could 'pass', so taking the bull by the horns I approached the woman and pleasantly said I was transgender as a form of explanation for the apparition I must have presented! All was smiles and they went on their way (we discussed it afterwards and concluded they were the same people P had met and they were trying to find an address ... well they found a man in a dress, instead! P was quite concerned for me when I told her. If anything, that broke the ice and three times after that I dressed and swam and posed while P was there and she didn't turn a hair; neither did the red squirrels that kept raiding the walnut tree in the garden.

 We spent most of the time eating in and just relaxing, but did have one long day out, revisiting Bargeme, where we had stayed in the late '80s and the Grand Canyon du Verdon, which we first saw in 1972. On the way back we drove along the south side of the Canjuers military base, which was one of those curious 'Indian country' places. It was only later that I read this must be where Posh and Becks had had an estate!
We had pizza again during the week before splashing out for a final meal at La Gloire de Mon Papa, which was recommended, and yet ... it wasn't that great and was expensive. The pizzas were the better value. On the Saturday we left for Italy ... in part 3!

And the time moves on ... part 1

I found a draft of a short note from February which I have now published (in November!) Trying to catch up is fiddly, so what follows are the thoughts as they come to me as I write, rather than a consecutive diary.

Time does move on. I haven't been in touch with my acquaintance in Suffolk. She was probably mentioned in my other blog - she is post-op TS in her late 70's, highly intelligent but also self-absorbed. Although she was supportive last year, her lifestyle and mine are quite different and I need to follow my instincts and much has happened. I ought to add that she leaves it up to me to make contact which, to my mind, suggests she is not wanting for interests!

Early in the year P was responding well to her Parkinson's medication and looking forward to the trip to Ireland. I was increasing my self-imposed workload to try and finish the characterisation of the Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in the district. Thinking back on that always triggers the memory of last year when I accompanied a consultant to look at the landscape near the coast and the memory is particularly strong just now as yesterday would have been Barbara's birthday:

[I had stayed over at Barbara's the night before and met the consultant near Folkestone in the morning. We had an excellent day out - it is very rare for me to be able to discuss 'landscape' at length with another professional. Afterwards I dropped her back at the pub near Ashford she was staying. She suggested we have meal and carry on chatting but however much the idea appealed, and it did, something told me to decline the offer and go and visit Barbara (I had intended going straight home that night). The shock of seeing Barbara's condition after such a good day was quite traumatising - she was pale, clammy and in a panic ("Where had I been?"). I called an ambulance and the paramedic who arrived thought she may have had a mild heart attack. (Barbara, as was her wont had not used her alarm button to summon help earlier). B was taken to hospital and we spent several hours in resus. That was the Thursday. The hospital treated Barbara with antibiotics but she did not respond. The drugs were continued through the weekend, but Barbara was fading. Medication was ceased late Monday. I stayed with her until 8pm on Tuesday evening, when exhaustion took over and I went home. I had the call from the hospital at 6am on the Wednesday morning.

I guess that association with the landscape will be with me until my end.]

Poulnabrone Portal Tomb

Back to Ireland: P was uncertain how far she could travel in any one day, so we arranged to travel slowly to Carran, stopping at Swansea and then Waterford after the ferry from 'Fishguard' (actually Goodwick, a nice little port). We ate at a French restaurant in Waterford, and the next morning I was too ill to have breakfast. We still think it was more likely to have been caused by the buffet breakfast at the Swansea Ibis than anything else. It didn't matter ... Ireland was already casting its spell on us and by the time we arrived at the Burren, I was falling in love! The woman who owned the cottage was really friendly - it seems the cottage must have been the family home at one time, although she now lived in Dublin. We settled in immediately and went for a drive along the coast and past Poulnabrone which was deserted, so I managed to get lots of photos of it. Sunday, it rained for some of the day, but we got out and saw more and then we saw more on the Monday which was just cloudy and we also booked the ferry to Inisheer where I had already arranged an overnight stay. The weather the rest of the week was fine and the trip to Inisheer was fun. I only managed one day's walk during the week, but that reflected Pauline's good health and her wanting to do things!

On the Saturday we had a relaxed drive to Dundalk and found Pamela's quite easily. I managed, idiotically, to scratch the car but we settled in easily and it was a real pleasure to meet our hosts in person, especially Mary. Our stay was a bit of a blur (there was endless craic from start to finish) and I can't remember that much. In the evening we had a takeway from the famous Roma and then went round the corner to the local bar which was quite noisy (a major football match was on). It might have been later that evening we were introduced to Pamela's encyclopedic knowledge of television series from the 60's and 70's and settled into an episode of Randall and Hopkirk (deceased). We were treated to the full Irish breakfast on Sunday and then P, P and I went to Carlingford. It's a blur, but think we may have gone to the bar on the road to Blackrock in the evening. On Monday we dressed and had the sofa interview and, maybe, had another takeaway from the Roma. Tuesday was Dublin and I think that was the day Mary cooked a really tasty steak dinner for us while we were out. Pamela, in drab, was an excellent guide, but clearly the pain in her knee (which will need replacement) was severe. On Wednesday Pamela and I went to Blackrock and then Callan's for a 'dressed' meal in the evening. It was a stay with many highlights, but what stood out was just how easily we got on. On Thursday we had a fond farewell and then Pauline and I drove to Dún Laoghaire for our ferry which was actually waiting for us at Dublin Port! We missed it and caught the next one to Holyhead, arriving at midnight in the pouring rain. We ignored our booking at the Travelodge and drove back overnight, which was fine until just outside Dover when P decided to do some back-seat driving. After 6.5 hours behind the steering wheel I was not amused. The independence we each have gotten used to caused no issues between us, except who is driving when on the road! This was to be repeated on the later trip, but that's for Part 2 (and 3 and 4).


I'm not sure how long it took for me to book the cottage in Carran again for next May, but there was no hesitation in inviting Pamela and Mary to join us there. Back home, apart from going through photos of the trip, work became all-consuming. We had a heatwave this Summer and the benefit to me was that I didn't have to mow the grass, or do anything else in the garden. I had a deadline of end of August for the landscape work and in the last month that entailed working up to seven days a week. It was completed and is now onto the next stage - digitising and putting it on our website, but that's not for me. Probably, other things happened, I just don't recall them yet.
 

A Quick Update 10 February ... escape from the Winter Olympics!

I'm not used to writing my thoughts. Over the last few months, I've tried to put my thoughts down as they occur, rather than endlessly re-compose them until their meaning is lost, but I've also 'hung on' until the writing juices started to flow. I guess that's why I'm here, now ...

SAD came back during January, accompanied by miserable weather ... not proper Winter with snow and stuff, it was just cold, wet and windy and my unheated house is drafty. Pressures at work (of my own making!) continue, even though I'm meant only to be working two days a week. Pauline is lining up plenty of hospital appointments for her Parkinson's. I have been good ... apart from one dress, I've avoided all the inducements of online retailers, but the incentive to dress has also been low.

I'm still wondering where my TGism will lead. While I'm working I cannot see myself 'coming out' more, but I would like to experience more life in my preferred gender.