Finally Finis!

Tonight is New Years Eve. There is still half an hour left in 2016, and as I lay awake sweltering in this unusually warm summer temperature, I realised that I really need to finish the old chapter of our life, so that a new one can begin.

So back in time to our last days in France. We took another road trip to Baux-au-Provence, just because we were bored out of our skulls sitting in our little apartment in Port Saint Louis. I'd already seen the incredible art presentation at Lumieres, and Megan wasn't inclined to go, so we clambered up to the village instead.

Limestone cliffs around Baux au Provence

View over the valley from the town

Megan posing in front of fake snow.

Village views

Just another unbearably cute village

Anyway, enough faffing around, the day of our departure arrived. We piled our remaining belongings into our little rental Citroen, and drove to Marseille airport. I was dreading having to check my precious guitar into baggage, but was most pleased when i was told i could take it on as carry on luggage. I won't bore you with the details of that long and interminable flight, except to say it was long.... and interminable....

Different style of church at Baux

Square in the town opens into empty space

Eventually we arrived, after 4 flights, 2 car rides, and the odd bus ride, back to Ballina. We were in a kind of shock. The world as we knew it had changed radically. Not to disparage Australia, but it seemed to be inhabited by a strange species of bogons.... we were in culture shock.

A view up the valley of Baux

Loving these winter pastel colours. 

The reality took a while to sink in, but it was over. Our life as rambunctious sea explorers was ended, and now we're living in small town Australia. In reflection, its not the tourist sites or the great cities or all the wondrous things that we saw that I miss. We'd both really had enough of being tourists.

Rather, it was the gentle swell of the boat on an evening tide, the security of our little floating womb, walking up the companionway and being overwhelmed by the beauty of what surrounded us. It was the joy of entering a strange harbour, filled with naval vessels and cranes and all manner of strange things, and feeling like we had a right to be there. It was our finely practiced skills as we docked the boat in yet another demanding anchorage or narrow little port. It was being surrounded by wildness as the weather worsened, trusting to our little Rocna to keep us secured to the planet. It was feeling a bond with fellow mariners, and knowing that we could meet new and interesting people in just the next dock. It was a whole life package.

A panorama of the Baux hills

It was also the license to write this blog, feeling like I had a point of view that others might find interesting. Its difficult to lose that sense, to feel that I now have no legitimacy to write about my life.

Megan and I have set about re-acquring the trapping of 'civilized' life, those things that make you feel 'rooted' in both the literal and Australian vernacular sense. We now own a lovely old Holden Commodore with only 160,000 km on the clock. We aspire to seniors cards, pension forms, superannuation accounts, and heaven forbid, a firmly anchored house. At the moment, I'm feeling a softly growing sense of entrapment and a slow suffocating strangulation. Maybe its just the heat. Everyone keeps telling me that new life will spring from the ashes.

We shall see. I'm open to whatever comes. I'm enjoying resurrecting patterns and habits that were hard to keep at sea. We're back in the pool every second day, doing laps. Two days a week are thin days (thanks, Carol, we're keeping it up). Life is evolving a structure..... but is it the one I want? 

So, I guess I should formally close this blog. It would be too soul-destroying to blog about suburban rural Australian life. Thanks for following this blog, its been accessed 30,000 times, so some-one is reading! And in the immortal words of the dolphins escaping an earth about to be demolished for a hyperspace by-pass, 'So long, and thanks for all the fish!'

Beguiling Barcelona

With the sale of Pavlov done and dusted, we couldn't just sit around contemplating our land-lubber status while swallowing the bitter anchor in our dismalé apartment. A road trip was in order, and what better way to go to windward than in a quirky Citroen rental car that insisted on turning on the radio to its favourite station each time we started her. We decided to drive down to Barcelona, to add a bit of Olé to our lives. We drove through the marshy flat Camargue, full of pink flamingoes and French cow-boys.  First stop was the lovely French coastal town of Séte.

Canals in Sété. 

Loved the wrought iron balconies

From Séte, we crossed the border into Spain. Barcelona beckoned.

Barcelona street

If Europe has awakened a keen interest in architecture for both of us, then Barcelona just blew our minds. Top of the stack is, of course, Antoni Gaudi. The Sagrada Familia is the most visited site in all of Spain, and it was just totally awe-inspiring. I've seen a LOT of churches in the last few years, and am pretty jaded after the glories of Rome and Paris, but I just felt a sense of numinous awe inside this temple. While we are staunch atheists, Gaudi's creation invoked a sense of transcendence and the wonder of nature. His forms are inspired by natural organic processes but also have a higher mathematical quality that juxtaposes the Platonic solids with processes of growth and organic symmetry. Amazing! the quality of that man's mind. Here are some shots of the exterior of the church, which is still incomplete. It is scheduled to be completed in 2026, and will have taken 144 years to build.

The incomplete spires of the Passion façade

Main entrance of the Passion façade

Cubist sculptures

Auxilliary dome

In-spire-ational 

Another view of the Nativity façade

Elaborate carving at the Nativity façade

Although the exterior of the church is amazing, it is the interior that evokes the true sense of wonder. It is like being inside a forest, with rainbow light colours being filtered through a dense canopy of leaves. Gaudi used tree metaphors in his design, as well as the triangular to hexagonal and back transformations found inside an oleander branch.

Main dome 

Gaudi's inspiration comes from trees and plant growth

The light inside the temple was remarkable

One of the main stained glass windows

The detail as you look up is just startling

More details

All this colour comes from sunlight through the windows

Surely a glimpse of heaven?

Words fail...

Gaudi was apparently a difficult, arrogant and reclusive soul. In his later years, he lived in the cathedral and devoted all his time to its design. Interestingly, he did not draft the design, but worked directly with 3D plaster models, from which the final components were built. The ideas behind the cathedral consumed more and more of his being, with a consequent neglect of his own dress and demeanour. He died after being run over by a tram, he looked like a pauper so no aid was rendered to him, and he was given hospital care too late to save him. Ironic that now there is a movement to beatify him.

We also visited Park Guel that he also designed.

One of Gaudi's rare sketches

A plaster model used to design the main pillars

Entrance to Park Guel.

The gate-keepers house at Park Guel.

A Gaudi moisa

Mosaic seating on the roof

The gift shop

Wrought iron gate

We walked the streets at night, sampled the tapas bars, rode on the Metro and funiculars and generally did city things. We just loved this vibrant and alive town, and hope to spend more time here one day.

City fountain

Barcelona by night

Riding the funicular

Park overlooking the city

Christmas decorations are rather large in Barcelona

View over the city from the cable car

Vibrant night life

Our allotted time up, we cruised back into France, trying to take more scenic routes home.

On the canal from Sete

Canal cruisers under the watchtower

This may indeed by our penultimate blog, since we are back in France and the end is nigh! Ciao baby!

Returning

"How do I know who will be here in Australia when we return. I keep remembering people I should have rung. And how will I be different when I return? Will everyone be safe?"

In Barcelona

These thoughts filled my mind that day in 2012 when I was traveling to Turkey to begin my adventure on Pavlov. I say "my adventure"  here because I was the unsure and fearful party in all of this, and continued to be over the 4-5 years that we have sailed the Med in our wonderful boat.

I was unsure in so many ways. Could I stand being away so far from the kids? Could I cope being on the boat and leaning? Feeling the fear that still grips me at times.  Could Steve and I cope with each other? Could I overcome my fears and find the strength that would be needed?

Well the answer was of course yes. I did find the strength of will and dare I say character, though I still refuse to believe I needed any more. There were times that I questioned our decision. But there were were many more times that we each marveled at our work, and at the things we saw and came to experience.

How did I change?

I believe that the strength and adventurous side I exhibited as a child came to the fore on Pavlov. It was forced to do so. And I was proud of myself. I was great crew and I did what was needed for us both. I became....fearless.....at times anyway.

Steve has always exhibited the skills of a skipper. At his 60th birthday party in Ballina I extolled his virtues. He kept us safe and I trusted hime to look after me while I was hanging onto the boom in 50knots ...... It was my ability that I questioned, never his. Though he probably will tell a different story: I question everything , even when told to accept. His skills I never doubted. He made these last 5 years possible. We wouldn't have done this without his determination and capacity to learn new things.

How have things changed while we have been away?

We have got older. Naturally. Sophie is married and has experienced what no mother ever wants to- the death of a child, Harrison. But she has also experienced the joy of a child, Isobel. I return as a grandmother.

Michael will have nearly finished law and will be embarking on the next phase of his life- with dog and motor cycle. Ahhhhh!

They are my joys as always and I am happy to be back closer to them to experience life first hand, not over a screen on Skype.

I will return to my family:brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, cousins, mother-in-law. They have had their health issues but are well now. I will return to my friends. And leave behind new friends which is sad.

How have I changed?

As a natural pessimist (maybe linked to potato famine Irish ancestor) I have learnt that anything is possible. If you want something to happen, you can make it happen. If you go against the grain of life, things don't go so well. Going with the grain, taking each day is comes, living in the moment as one does on the sea, is the way to live.

As I said to Steve, maybe we aren't finished with boating yet. Who's knows! But I do know that we can do it again, if we want to. Our relationship has strengthened during this time which makes anything possible.

I will miss Europe and the divine cultural experiences. I will miss trying to speak french or italian, rarely greek or turkish. And trying to understand and be understood. But home is calling.

So home we come to buy a house, a car and start a new in..... Newcastle. Closer to my children and my grand daughter , and a place we could both agree on.

So..... see you all soon  Australia!!

Pavlov is Sold

Its strange how events unfold, and how life is suddenly very different. Last Christmas when visiting Australia, we went to our house that we had tenanted out, and I realised that I never really wanted to mow those lawns again. We have almost 2 acres of land and maintaining all the trees and gardens is a big job. I looked at the block and at our efforts to ameliorate the effects of 4 years of tenanting on our landscaped back yard, and said 'Never again'. So we put the house on the market, thinking it might take several years to sell. (This next set of photos are from a trip we took to Aix-au-Provence, near Marseille).

Museums in Aix-au-Provence.

Central square in Aix-au-Provence

A typical French green grocer

Well, it sold just after we left Australia, and we realised that we didn't want to leave that cash sitting in the bank. It meant we needed to return to Australia and either buy or build a house. So, about 9 months ago, we started to think about putting Pavlov on the hard for a year while we returned to Australia to build a house. Sophie, Megan's daughter had tragically lost her first child that Christmas, so there was no urgency to leave the Med long term. We thought we'd return to Pavlov and take her through the canals and river systems to the UK, where, some years hence, we thought we'd sell her. However, I hated the thought of Pavlov sitting unused for a year while we faffed around in Australia. Boats just die if they aren't continually in use, the boat yards of the world are littered with neglected boats dying a slow and ugly death due to owners being elsewhere engaged. (These next photos are from a trip to LeStaque).

Roasting meats at a LeStaque market

LeStaque limestone cliffs

A Lestaque church

So, I thought, lets put Pavlov on the market while she is on the hard. If she sells, well and good, but if she doesn't, then we can take her up the canals when we return. Now boats in the Med can take a very long time to sell. There are an enormous number of boats for sale very cheap due to the large charter fleets operating here. Pavlov is rather a specialised deep ocean-going boat, and would only appeal to a discerning and knowledgeable owner who knew what she represented, rather than all the 'plastic fantastic' ex-charter yachts being sold for ridiculously cheap prices. So I fully expected her to take years to sell, and I thought we'd be back to continue our journey. (The next photos are from a trip to Nimes).

Interesting gee-gaws in a Nimes shop

Courtyard in Nimes

Not sure of the symbolism of the crocodile, maybe they make shoes from them.

Roman Amphitheatre in Nimes

The palisades of the amphitheatre

Nimes town hall

A very french cafe

So I place an ad in Apollo Duck, a popular boat selling site in the UK, and had several enquires from lots of tyre-kickers, who all wanted lots of photo's and questions answered, but nothing came of it. I also placed an ad in the free service provided by Dick MaClary on his web-site 'The Sailboat Cruiser'. We had an enquiry about Pavlov from an Polish sailor, whom we'll call B, currently living in Austria from this ad. B. flew down to Marseille just to look at the boat, but because our weather window to sail to Port Napoleon was closing, we had to leave the day of his visit to get to the Port in reasonable weather. So we offered B. a trip to Port Napoleon, hoping that he could get back to the airport at the end of our sail. He grabbed the opportunity, and had a blast of a sail over to Port Napoleon in 25knot winds. It was a great advertisement for Pavlov, because she was in her element. We had to reef and shake out a few times, and point hard into the wind to get there. Pavvie just flew, and I could tell from the glint in B's eye's that he was hooked. (The next set of photos come from a trip to Lyon).

Lyonese square

Bellecour square in Lyon, with the church on the hill overlooking

These things seem to be sprouting like mushrooms.

Taking the funicular up to the church on the hill

La Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere 

Inside the Basilique

Highly decorative ceiling

Stunning mosaic art work

Very Norman lines to the Basilique

Anyway, after the usual dicking around with surveys, contracts and hard bargaining, a deal was made, and Pavlov now has a new owner. We can't quite elieve that she sold so quickly, but we always knew that Pavlov was a special boat, and would find a special new owner. The new owner will be flying me back in June next year to help prep the boat and sail it to Monfalcone (near Trieste in Italy) where she will initially be berthed. We really wish the new owner B all the best with Pavlov, and we know that he has acquired a wonderful cruising boat, which served as our home for the last 5 years. So, having fulfilled all our boat preparations, Megan and I were free to travel around France. We visited Aix-au-Provence, Nimes, Arles and Lyon. We also met up with our good friends Eric and Hanifer in LeStaque where they berth their boat Kairos. 

View from the Basilique over Lyon

Panorama of Lyon

Megan snapping in the old quarter

Lyon is filled with elegant buildings like this

We spent a delightful hour in the Museum of Fine Arts in Lyon, and wallowed in some of our favourite Impressionist artists.

I think this one is a Renoir, but I'm not sure

One of my favourite Monet's

Forget who painted this, but I love it.

Nave Nave Mahina byPaul  Gauguin 

The Lovers by Rodin

A Picasso

Couldn't fit the whole painting in the frame, but I just love this

Another example of Lyonese architecture

What's next? Well, we are in the delightful and slightly anxiety-provoking state of not really knowing. Megan's daughter had a second child, also 10 weeks premature, in November. Megan made a rushed trip back to Australia to spend a few weeks with Sophie, while I got on with the job of selling the boat. We're both happy to report that Isobel is doing very well, although is still in hospital. So grand-parenting is high on the list, as is building or buying our new home. We're thinking of living in Newcastle, about 160 km north of Sydney. This is a good compromise for both Megan, wanting to commute to Sydney, and me, needing to care for my mother in Ballina, 900 km to the north. Only time will tell what our next adventure will be, but now we must put the Pavlov chapter to bed. Bon Soir indeed!