I Bopeth Mae Yna Dymor. (To Everything There is a Season)

The Autumnal leaves have all but fallen and the golden colours of the trees are fading. Travel attire now consists of woolly hats and gloves, hiking boots, tartan scarf (thanks Pearla for the birthday present), perhaps thermal pants under our hiking pants and possibly the trusty windbreaker. We are in Wales with Clair and my sister Jennifer and it’s almost winter. I’m sitting by a log fire in a wee cottage in Llangrannog with a glass of wine, looking forward to a roast dinner and apple crumble. Scotland seems a distant memory and Sark even more so.

Good-by Munchkin and Scrap

We said good-bye to Munchkin, Scrap and their mum Sheanne, but not before we did our bit for Cats Protection. This involved attending the regular fundraising event at the Alford village hall where we paid a wee sum to eat all we could eat over a cuppa or two. It was hard going, but someone had to do it and all for a good cause. I won’t tell you what Pearla devoured, but I managed a cream horn, half a scoan, a pikelet, a rather large piece of Victoria Sponge and a wee slice of something with pastry and dried fruit. I lusted over the fruit tart at the next table but I wasn’t quite sure of the etiquette – is it OK to go foraging or should I just be happy with what is before me? Hmmm, best to play safe and not appear too greedy. Both Pearla and I felt sick by the time we had finished, but we are known for our stickability. The things we do for charity. We were delighted with the company we kept at our table – locals who shared their political views (Brexit, no Brexit, the bloody English) who obviously look after each other and their wider community and who like nothing better than to chat over tea and many cakes. Thank-you Sheanne for introducing us to your community. I’ll be back.

Awright Dunoon (Hello Dunoon)

Another hire car and another hair raising exit out of a Scottish city – this time Glasgow, saw us ferrying across the Clyde to Dunoon – a cute wee village filled with people we couldn’t understand, large dogs and a pub that offered bacon and eggs along with a flat screen for the ABs-England RWC game punters. As you know, Pearla and I aren’t big rugby followers, but seriously, if you are a kiwi in a foreign land, you gotta make an effort. We pretended we knew what was going on, but I think our cover was blown a few times. The breakfast came with no toast and the coffee was bad but the experience was great thanks to the locals who put up with us (again).

Our daily habit in the Argyle region was to watch the morning mist rolling in, pack our egg sandwiches, gather up the tramping boots, get on the road at a reasonable hour, find a cafe for the all important scoan research and then walk. We found some amazing places to view lochs, castles, and some challenging but mostly beautiful meandering paths.

Pearla stayed in Dunoon a while longer to spend time with her son Sam, whilst I made my way back to London to go to a show, catch up with Jennifer and hang out on the canal boat with Clair and Louie, the ship’s cat.

Return to Cornwall

The elusive Poldark and his horse galloped for the hills as I found myself back in the beautiful village of Cadgwith. I love this place and could happily live here, with the cliff walks, muddy paths, wild winds and stunning views. The highlight (as was last time) was the folk night at the local pub. A roaring fire, musicians, folk songs and cider. What more can a slightly tired traveller want?

A few wee tourist tips – when the sat nav says you have reached your destination, it’s late at night and you clearly haven’t, with no idea where you are, don’t panic, it will be ok, you can use your device; don’t go to Lands End; if you want to go to St Michael’s Mount, check the tide first; when someone says the scones are fresh out of the oven, under no circumstances, believe them, it’s a common lie.

Croeso i Llangrannock (Welcome to Llangrannock)

So, back to the roaring fire and the now devoured roast. My first time in Wales and we are staying in the small seaside village of Llangrannog. The cliff walks are stunning, the narrow roads a bit of a challenge and the Sunday roast at the Nag’s Head was to die for. We are only here for a few more days then it’s back to London for me and Berlin for Pearla. We will be going our separate ways.

It’s nearly home time.

Amser I Fyfyrio (A Time To Reflect)

Birthday time and isn’t it always a good time to pause and reflect on the past year. My last birthday was spent with friends in Martinborough after doing the Tora Walk. At that time, I knew I was coming to Sark, but I had no idea what was ahead. If I was honest, I think if I’d known, I wouldn’t have undertaken this massive journey, but I’m so glad I did. So last week, Pearla asked that nerving question “So Jules, where do you want to be next birthday?” I have no idea. For the first time in my life, I have absolutely no idea, no vision, about my future. Thoughts come and go and there are possible options, but nothing concrete. So I’m sitting in a lounge, in a village in Wales not knowing what is going to happen after I arrive back in NZ on 7th Dec. I know my life season is going to change but the ‘how’ or ‘what’ is beyond me. And the interesting thing is that I’m only a wee bit scared. It’s going to be OK, I can pursue any option I want. I trust myself.

So if I was to reflect on my year, what would be the key things that I would want to remind myself of? Here goes and in no particular order:

• Life is so much better with kindness – to give and to receive.
• Language is no barrier to friendship and kindness.
• There are unkind/mad/stupid people out there. Identify them and stay away. Don’t let them into your life. Trust yourself. You’ve muddled along just fine so far.
• Travel can be hard, cold and wet but oh so rewarding. Take some risks and it’s OK to get lost, you can always call a taxi.
• If Pearla says turn right, turn right. Don’t question. She is always right.
• It’s OK to look like shit. In fact, it’s actually quite liberating to look like shit and not care.
• When living out of a back pack, a washing machine is your best friend.
• Avoid romance at all cost. (Yes there is a back story here which I’m not going to divulge but think Jane Austen novel where it takes a whole book to get to the point where the hero finally makes a move, but the last page has been ripped out leaving the reader at a total loss about what happened).
• Value your health, but if you can’t eat well don’t get hung up on it, go with the flow and remind yourself that you’ll be ok. You can eat your lentils and vegies another day. Bacon day after day and Chicken Kiev 5 times a week for a few months won’t kill you, will it?
• Remain connected with your friends and family back home. You need them and they need you.
• Your cats will survive without you. You know they only love you for the food and your bed.
• Let go.

And so a life season is soon to close, but phew, what a season! I’m so looking forward to the next one. There are a few seeds sown, but will they be nurtured? Who knows. Exciting, isn’t it.