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A NEW ADVENTURE

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Where There is a Will There is a Way….

Saturday, June 14, 2014, 12:47 PM England, 9:47 PM France

Starting with yesterday afternoon after arriving at Holiday Inn Express at Stanstead and checking in I start to use their “free Wi-Fi.”   The deal is the free Wi-Fi is for 15 minutes then it gives you an option to purchase Wi-Fi for an hour or day.  I’d call that “bait and switch” which is illegal in the U.S.  Mark and I SKYPED for a while having to reconnect every 15 minutes.   This did not happen in Winchester where the wifu worked without asking you to buy time.  So I when down to the front desk and was told “that’s the way we do it here.”   I smiled and when to dinner which was a decent meal of salad, all most salads here look like they when out back and picked some weeds, a vegetable loaf, and new potatoes with a nice glass of white wine.  I had earlier walked over to the convenience store and picked up a few things including my own bottle of wine.   After dinner I when back to my room and relaxed working on a section of my blog that has become quite difficult to write.  I have to get up at 4 AM tomorrow in order to catch my Ryanair flight.  Good Night.

A free breakfast is included in your stay which consisted of cold cereal, coffee, orange juice, and toast.  You basic motel breakfast which also offers some other snacky foods, cheese and fruit.  Off to the airport which is packed.  There must be a couple of hundred flights going out around this time.  Zipping through inspection after my gate is called I’m the first to arrive.  Now getting on a Ryanair flight is just a tad different from say one of our low cost airlines.  There are two queues, that what we call lines, one is for priority boarding and one is for plain Villella boarding.  You get priority boarding when you reserve a seat which cost’s either and extra five or ten pounds depending on where you sit.  I want to get on the plane first and get off the plane first and have gotten quit good at it.  I’m usually the first in the priority line so I get to walk out to the airplane and board.  Yes I said walk out and clime up the either the stairs that the plane has built in or ones that roll up.

My seat is the first one by the door and I settle in.  Everything on Ryanair cost extra so I have my own snacks and water.  They sell Ryanair lottery cards and supposedly all the money collected goes to children’s charities.  I have purchased them a couple of time just for kicks as they are really cheap.  The flight is nice I guess because I slept most of the way to Bordeaux.  Now the fun starts!  There is two ways to get from the airport to the Gare, train station.  One costs 6 euro and takes 30 minutes, the other costs 1.40 euro and can take 60 minutes.  However, the 6 euro bus only runs every hour.  At the time I arrived the 60 minute bus would get me to the station first.  I jump on and off we go, so far so good.  There are kiosks in the station that you can buy your ticket from or wait on the long, long line to buy them from a human who may speak some English.

However, credit cards in Europe have chips in them so you only have to put the card in a little bit instead of swiping it.  These machines only take those credit cards so I have to get on the long, long like.  Upon reaching my agent I request to go to St Jean Pied de Port.  He tippy taps on his computer and says the famous “Es No Posseble” followed by “we are on strike.  Not today nor tomorrow.  “Monday” I quary?  He shrugs his shoulders and I walk away.  My little brain goes into overdrive and I get back on line to talk to another agent.  But this time I ask for a ticket to Bayonne where you change to get to St. Jean’s.  She says nothing about a strike but tells me both trains to Bayonne are booked solid.  I’m thinking they must be loaded with Pilgrims however, I’m in correct.  They are loaded due to the strike with passages headed to the beach for the weekend.

O.K. now what I keep thinking.  I purchase a map of France to see if there are other towns I can get a train to.  BUS jumps into my head let’s see where the terminal is.  While I’m thinking about the bus I keep thinking if I can just find out what platform the train will be stopping at I’ll just jump on and pay the conductor.   Finally I find a like-minded attendant who tells me the train will arrive on platform 2.   I arrive to find the platform packed with people; I wait.  The train pulls in and it already has people standing for the ride.  Everyone begins to climb into the train I’m last to push in standing on the steps waiting for the door to close.  This is a ten car train which is packed from one end to the other like one of those trains you see in films about India.  I expect people to start climbing on the roof.

The train is not moving, people are sweating, I back up a bit to get a little air.  There is an announcement in French that, of course, I do not understand. People start getting off the train and I hear one woman say they have added another train.  We get off and walk back to the next train which is actually attached to this on making it now a 20 car train.  I get in find a seat and we are off Bayonne.  Es not imposseble!  There are times we go around bends in the track and I can see the front of the train that is how long we are.  We arrive in Bayonne at the ticket window I’m sold a bus ticket to St Jean which will leave at 18:00 arrive at St Jean 19:30.  I have two hours to burn so I walk about, have a biere and am able to get on the internet.  The bus comes and is full this time with mostly Pilgrims.  I am sitting next to a young couple who are from Switzerland.  They are walking the Camino for the first time.  We chat a bit as we ride, meanwhile the seat behind us, the backseat of the bus is filled with a group of young boys.  They proceed to talk in loud voices for the whole 1 ½ hours.

At St. Jean I head to the Pilgrim office to get my Credencial del Peregrino.  The office is packed at 7 PM and I am surprised to find it still open.  I’m told that all Albergues are full except one so off I go.  I was thinking about heading to the campground that I stayed at the last time and sleeping under the stars, however the weather is not looking promising.  So I book a two day stay for 24 Euro and have dinner of 12.  Don’t ever tell me “Es no posseble” as that become the forces to prove them wrong.  Time and time again I’m told in Europe it can’t be done and I find a way to do it.  I want to go back to the person and teach them it is “Posseble”  Good Night!  Love you!

A day at the office...

Saturday, May 24, 2014, 2:19 AM Arizona, 10:19 AM Salisbury

I hate going to the loo and finishing my business only to fine that the TP dispenser is EMPTY, bit of a problem isn't it?  What to do?  Ask the guy next door, but they are empty, shuffle out in the altogether hoping you can make it to the next stall before someone comes in?  Oh well here goes!  Whew made it!  This happened in France once of course that was a learning experience wasn't it.  You see most campgrounds if France don’t supply TP so learned that one pretty quick.  Have to be more careful with my expectations don’t I?  Those expectations will get you every now and then won’t they?  A friend once sent me an article on expectations and how they can screw up relationships.  Still have it somewhere in my collection of papers I look at every now and then thinking I need to do something with that.

Yesterday was my first day of “work” for the Festival office.  I’m a bit nervous wanting to make a good impression and all that.  I show up 1/2 hour early in order to watch the person currently manning the desk.  Sat with her about 10 minutes and she says “Well I’m off then” and off she goes.  My anxiety mounts as I await the first phone call; I’m answering phone and greeting people as they come in.   First phone call I almost drop the phone picking it up, but make it through transferring and all; bit more confident now.  I’m chatting with the lady across the aisle who is one of two who take reservations and payments for the different events.  “You helped us last year didn't you?” she asks.  “Yes actually I've been a Stewart for the past three years.”  “You were with another man from America right, the one who was making a fuss at one of the events?”  She goes on in great detail on this miner event in life.  “Don’t remember the fuss” says I. “Have you ever been to the U.S.?” I ask.  We talk about Flagstaff for a bit and where she and her husband stayed.

Phone rings for the second time and deftly pick it up and answer.   We have this long thing that needs to be said upon answering.  “Ageas Salisbury International Arts Festival, how may I help you?”  One lady say’s to me “That’s quite a mouthful isn't it?”  I get through the next three phone calls and am feeling really confident until… in walks an older lady whom I greet with a smiling “hello may I help you?”  What I hear is something about the peaks having snow on them.  I smile as I think what fucking peaks there aren't any peaks around Salisbury?  She looks at me expectantly as my mind is now stuck on the peaks thing and I don’t know what to say.  Helen, the general manage pops out and says to me “She wants to know about Peter Snow” and directs to her to the ticket lady.  I’m sitting there with a dumb ass smile on my face.  Shit I can understand English!  Actually I think I was distracted by the wig hat on her head which she had pulled down over her ears; bit unnatural that. 

I’m given a task cutting up paper badges one at a time.  The young lady who has given me the task asks if I need any help.  I smile “I think I got this.”  Here I am spending the day answering phones and cutting up paper when Jane, head of the volunteers, comes out apologizing for not coming out sooner.  We discuss my offer to work more shifts at the opening event as they are short staffed.  As we talk she is watching me cut up badges.  I begin to wonder if there is something wrong with my little rhythm.   I smile, which I do a lot in England, France and Spain.  It’s a little trick I learned, but most people probably think “Poor fellow is a bit daft” then smile back and go about their business.   Anna comes out to relieve the lady at the ticket station.  I met Anna the first time I went to the Festival nine years ago.

I saw the line people stretching down the street and stopped to ask what was going on.  The fellow I asked explained that it was a big party due to it being the closing night of the Festival.  So I ride up to the ticket table and was greeted by Anna’s beautiful smile.  I would have bought anything she was selling under the spell of that smile.  I looked forward to seeing that smile every year since.  She is charge of the whole ticking selling business and is concentrating on making sure all goes well.  There is another person manning the ticket table and her name is Poppy.  She and I talk for a bit about American and her wish to get over there.  My time is up I made it through didn't seem to do to bad a job.  All the little badges are hopefully cut to order.  I mention to Anna that her youngest, who is now eight wasn't born when we first met, and her oldest was four.  We have a chat about how thing have changed and how they are out and about no longer needing a sitter to watch them.

It’s been a good day and what has this to do with expectations you might ask.  Only that when you let go of them wonderful things can happen.

Slide Fire and life..

Thursday, May 22, 2014, 2:56 AM Flagstaff, 10:57 AM Salisbury

Since last evening I've been glued to my phone and netbook watching the events taking place around my home in Flagstaff due to the Slide Fire.  A couple of my friends have asked if there is anything they can do for me in connection with my home.  I watch posts and news reports about neighbors getting ready to evacuate or have already.  What to take and how much my car/truck will hold?  Do I stay to the last minute or leave early?  I’m now sitting in a pub in Salisbury pondering several of these questions and one more.  Should I book a flight home and head up to Flagstaff?   What would I take seems to be the biggest question?  As I think about it I find the question overwhelming.  My first thought is clothes, a box of old pictures, and then it becomes bigger.  Can’t take my new kitchen, can’t get my truck out as it’s not running yet again, can’t take my bed, can’t take my big tool box or air compressor, can’t take all the chainsaws, there is so much I can’t take whatever will I do without all this stuff? 

Upon return from traveling the Camino de Santiago in 2012 I looked around at all the “stuff” that I’ve acquired and wonder “WHY?”  I have just spent 30 days traveling and having a grand time with just two changes of clothes and a tooth brush.  Why on earth did I need all this stuff which the more I gather seems to tie me down not set me free?   As I inventoried all the stuff I felt the weight of it pushing me down almost stopping my feet from moving.  I made a decision to plan on how to unburden myself.   Clean up the place and get rid of things I’m not using = not done.  Spend the winter getting the house ready to rent out putting some money in my pocket = not done.  Look for a place closer to town so I could use my bike or walk rather than drive = not done.  Well not gotten much done to lighten the load?   Going to do so much an ended up doing so little, but ignoring the weight.  Now nature, with the help of a careless human, may take care of all of that.   So I've decided I’d just take clothes and a download from my computer.   I kidded with a friend of mine yesterday that I’d collect the insurance money and start over new.  I've done it before, several times, and can do it again.  I have my health, my kids, grand-kids and family don’t need a hell of a lot more than that do I?  The rest is just STUFF!

I'll not be booking a flight home as there in not much to be done except pray that my friends in Flagstaff and what they hold dear are safe during this trying time.

A Trip to Nowhere…well not really..

Sunday, May 18, 2014, 2:23 AM Phoenix, 10:23 AM Salisbury

Kicking back and relaxing after my Odyssey.   Made my meeting at the Festival office where I renewed acquaintance with the general manager Helen and the met the head to the volunteers Jane.  We are trained in how to answer phones and what to say when one picks up.  Seems they may need more of my time than originally planned; no worries mate!   Picked up my bike and packed my panniers in an attempt to get ready to travel.  However, yet another glitch raised its head in the form of a sim card that is turning out to be a pain.  Have to wait for the store to open so I can have them give a look see what’s up.  So back at the Kings Head for another porridge and coffee along with the use of their WiFi.  Contacted Adelia, a person I met on the Camino last year, and said I’d like to head her way for a visit.

It looks to be a two day ride to get to where she lives then will probably take the train back to Salisbury.  However, I may have to put that off due to it being too late a start time.   I’m checking the map again to see if I can make the first campground since I don’t want to dry camp right off the bat.   When to the movie rode around town, worked on the bike, bought some stuff that I found out I could not live without.  I’ve not been up to much guess you could say I’m on vacation.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014, 6:41 AM, 2:41 pm England

Spend most of Sunday dealing with the phone store in an attempt to get my phone sorted out.  After a little research I find that on a recent downloaded updater from Android my phone was re-locked and it would now have to pay for an unlock code.  Tired of dealing with it especially since there are so may free WiFi hotspots around the city.  Left Salisbury on Monday at around 8:00 AM and am glad I’m finally on the road.   My plan is to ride down to Poole and then catch a train to Adelia’s town, spend a few days then head back to Salisbury to work at the Festival.  No plans after that at his point.

It was a long hard ride as it seems I’d forgotten just how steep the hills are here.  It’s been awhile since I've made a long ride that included many hills.  I did spend a great deal of time walking along side my bike up some quite steep inclines.  Past through some lovely villages one of which is Rockbourne is close to the New Forest. The Roman villa once stood in the center of a large farming estate, and is the largest known villa in the area. Its history spans the period from the Iron Age, about 800 BC to 100 AD, to the 5th century AD.  Next stop was Cranbourn where had lunch in a charming pub called the Sheaf of Arrowswith good food and friendly staff.  They watched my bike and backpack while I took a little break and visited the local church.  St Mary’s and St Bartholomew which was once a monastery until Henry the VIII came along.

Harder riding to come then the commencing of a sore butt and ending at a lovey camp site which I had all to myself.    I arrived at Wilksworth Farm Caravan Park around 4:30 PM and was warmly greeted.  After checking for the first time in all the time coming to England this is the first with and electricity at my pitch.  The clerk even gave me a cord to use.   Set up and ready for dinner I pop down to the store to see if they have a roll or two.   The helpful lady was sorry she had on frozen bread available.  They she say’s “Here I’ve just been shopping you can have one of ours, my husband won’t miss it.”  We have a good laugh after I ask if her husband will come looking for me and his roll.  After a dinner of vegetarian beans on toast and a salad it’s time for some sleep.

I’m up and off reaching Wimborne where I stop to take a picture from a bridge.  A fellow comes along and tells me how a month ago the whole area I’m looking at was under water from flooding.  We talk a bit about where we are from and where I’m headed.  He tells me of a bike walking path, Castleman Trailway, created from an old RR line long gone.  It is a lovely ride right to Poole.  It is a nice level ride, thankfully, no hills.  Up on reaching Poole I head to the RR station expecting to catch the next train to Exeter and south.  I find out, again, that I don’t know the English train system as well as I thought.   In order to get to Adelia’s town I have to make five changes and it will be a 5 hour ride taking me back to Salisbury.  I get a text from Adelia wanting to know when she can expect me.   I’m on my way back to Salisbury, disheartened that I had not planned things better, where I call Adelia and explain my plight.  We have a laugh and make plans for me to head, via the correct train to her with no restrictions on the amount of time I have to get there or leave.

I arrive at the Salisbury Caravan and Camping Club with Wendy waiting for me at the door step.  After the usual warm welcome she escorts me to the Arizona Corner or the Carl and Mark Corner.  We chat on the way about family and travels.  Nigel is off flying so will not get to see him until later.  After setting up camp it is time to head into town for some provisions and dinner at you guessed it; The Kings Head.  Up no my return I find two fellows from Italy set up near me.   I have a talk with one of them about the equipment we have.   He does not speak English and I do not speak Italian, but we have a conversation anyway.  I’m always amazed at how, no matter the language barrier, we find a way to communicate and laugh.   What a shame that our world leaders can do that.

Dublin to Salisbury

Thursday, May 15, 2014, 5:44 AM Arizona, 1:44 PM England

I am currently at my favorite pub the Kings Head in downtown Salisbury having arrived this morning at 12:30 AM after, practically, a non-stop trip from Phoenix.  The ferry trip to Holyhead was very relaxing and gave me time to nap, nosh, and writes a bit.  However, after arriving at Holyhead it was anything but relaxing.  Retrieved my bag from the ferry and headed to the train station which is attached to the ferry terminal.   The train was already there so quickly trotted to it then sat there for ten before we were off.  I keep thinking there has got to be a faster way to get to Salisbury and ask the conductor who does not know.   We are traveling through the Wales then down into the England watching the beautiful country side slid by.  Just an aside I’m watching an older gent across from me eating lunch which consists of Curry, a beer and a glass of wine.   So my travel will take me across half of England in order to get from Holyhead to Salisbury.   We reach Shrewsbury where I again ask the conductor if there is a better connection.

He tells me to ask again when I reach Birmingham which will be a train change to start heading south.  At Birmingham I ask the conductor and he looks at his little time table.  I ask if it isn’t faster to head to Southampton Central rather than Bristol Temple Mead.  I have in my head that all trains gong to Southampton Central go through Salisbury, from the north, first.   He agrees with me and tells me to wait for the next SC train in ½ an hour.  My train for BTM leaves and I call the YHA while waiting.  There is a fellow there who is going to wait for me as I’ll arrive after the desk closes.  I explain that I think I’ll get there a bit earlier then I told him; we are both happy.

As the train pulls into the station the stations it will go through are announces; Salisbury is not one of them.  I ask the train conductor if this train will get me to Salisbury.  He say’s “We’ll get you to Salisbury Mate,” and off we go.  I have this sinking feeling I’ve made a grievous error.  As we travel along I make my way to the front of the train where the train manager hangs out.  I tell him I was told this train would get me to Salisbury.  He taps away on his little machine and prints out an itinerary.  I have to change trains at Blazing Stoke which will get me to Salisbury at 12:33 AM.  Had I stayed followed the original time table I’d have been there at 11:33 PM.  My confidence is waning “If I were not along this would not have happened.”

We arrive at Blazing Stoke where I’ll wait for the train to Salisbury.  I enter the waiting room and instantly I recognize the place and another mess up pops into my head.   I think it was about four years ago I had to make a train change here for Salisbury also.  I had put my back pack on the luggage rack, which I had never done before, and found a seat.  When I left the train, not paying attention, the back pack remained.  I leisurely made a call to my mother and as we were hanging up I realized there was no back pack on my back.  This particular station as a fellow how monitors trains on a large desk.  In a tizzy I tell him my plight.  About twenty minutes later he tells me they found it.  I can retrieve it at the Southampton Central station.  I was to arrive in Salisbury at 9:30 PM and I’ll now arrive at, oh guess what time? 12:30 AM.   I call the YHA again and tell the fellow waiting for me to go to bed I’ll pitch my tent when I get there.  The train to Salisbury pulls in and off I go arriving at 1:00 AM.

I grab a cab to the YHA find a patch of ground and begin to put my tent together.  There are other campers here and I’m trying to be very quiet.   However, there is this motion activated light that is now flashing on and off every time I move.  Oh wait not one but two are not blinking at me.  The fellow in a tent near mind gets up and tells me the lights are flashing…NO Shitthink I, but I smile and apologize.   I settle in to my sleeping bag and look at my watch it is 2:00 AM.  I left my son’s house in Phoenix at 6:30 AM on Tuesday.  I have been on planes, trains and automobiles, and let’s not forget buses and ferries for 44 hours.  H