children

Vikings

sarahjlewisbriggs5 Comments

It’s Friday evening and I’ve been back at work a week. Whilst it’s nice to be back, I don’t quite feel I’ve settled properly back in – partly because I had things booked like the car service but also because I’m trying to work 9 a.m. until 1.30 p.m. but already I’ve had meetings and webinars booked in outside those times! I’ll have to see how it goes, as if work starts creeping too much into my own time (and I am only part-time after all, partly because that was what the job was advertised as but one of its selling points for me was that I wanted time to do my own thing. I’ve also just had to turn down some catering work as I just couldn’t commit enough hours to it).

I’ve read noticeably less this week, which is a pity as I’m reading a really interesting book by Neil Oliver about the Vikings. I hadn’t known that Harald Bluetooth, a king who had unified some disparate tribes, had given not only his name to bluetooth technology but also the symbol is made from the two of the runes of his name. Likewise some Scandinavians use the word ‘lurs’ as a nickname for their mobile phones: the lur was a Viking musical instrument.

What’s fascinating is how far and wide the Vikings spread. As I learn more about them, I am more and more impressed by them: although there is also a comment that Anglo-Saxon craftsmanship was superb and renowned worldwide, and that it may well have been the riches of England and other countries that attracted the Vikings. Certainly the Swedish Vikings spread eastwards towards Russia and further, and were among the first founders of a trading post, Russia’s first-ever town of Staraya Ladoga. This led to them moving southwards along rivers, with portage between them, and trading far afield.

The Norwegian Vikings were the ones who seem to have settled more in the UK, including Dublin in Ireland. I had discovered some time ago that Orkney was on a Viking trade route and an important centre for them: I hadn’t appreciated how important Shetland was as well, and nor had I thought how that also gave them access down the west coast of Scotland and into the Irish Sea. Dublin was a holding point for the Viking slave trade, where Angles, Britons and Picts were traded or held prior to being taken on to other markets. It’s perhaps worth noting – bearing in mind the current climate – that the author quotes an example in 1631 of an entire population of a village in Cork being taken to North Africa as slaves, this time by Barbary pirates. The word ‘enthralled’ comes directly from Old Norse.

A heart-lifting story which I hadn’t heard about before was the ‘Shetland Bus’. Neil Oliver uses this to demonstrate how the population of the Shetlands ties Britain to Scandinavia: the Shetland Bus was used to rescue people from Norway in the Second World War and take them to Britain, away from the Nazis, or to take Agents and equipment to Norway. In good conditions apparently the crossing takes about a day: the Shetland Bus crossings were often in the winter and in small fishing boats.

It’s a fascinating book and coincidentally Edward has just been set some work on the Vikings by school, which Alex is quite happy to help him with. The romance of these warriors still enthralls the hearts of the young (and not only the young) today.

Out on the Fells: Sunday

I was out on a long run today (Sunday) and it suddenly struck me WHY I run. It’s not only to keep fit, or to improve my fitness, but because I love being out on the trails/hills. I love the feeling of being strong and fit; but whilst short runs from home are fine on my own, I like doing things with friends. Experiences on one’s own are fine and uplifting, but a shared experience feels as though it possibly has a chance to create stronger memories: think of all those times when you say ‘do you remember when we…’, especially when you catch up with a friend whom you haven’t seen for a while. I’m really looking forward to getting out running with the rest of my running group again: most of them seem to be somewhat hesitant to meet up yet (it would be rather nice to meet a new man who ran – but not too fast – and cycled, but at least I have a great group of friends to run with when times are more normal).

I’ve got out for some lovely runs again this week, perhaps most notably running 9 miles on Askham Fell with Penny – we went all along to Howtown and then back to Pooley Bridge, followed by a HUGE hill up to Askham Fell to cross over the fell and back to our cars. I then ran in Gelt Woods near me on Friday, which was lovely, and particularly gratifying as I was running quite well and the hills weren’t as intimidating as usual. Then on Saturday as Bella was here and wanted to walk up Talkin Fell with a friend, I decided I’d run up Talkin Fell, over to Simmerson Hill, back to the cairns and then down again.

Sundays when you’re single can sometimes be the loneliest day of the week, but since lockdown David and I have generally split weekends so that he has the children on Saturday and I have them on Sunday. I’d offered to have the boys for longer this week if I could pick them up a lunchtime on Sunday and run in the morning: unfortunately the route Penny suggested (she’s kind of my partner in adventure, as you’ve probably realised by now – her husband had gone off mountain biking with a couple of friends) took a little longer than we’d anticipated. It was a sort of recce for running all of ‘High Street’ – not only the name of a Lake District fell but also of a roman road which linked the fort at Ambleside with the one near Penrith. Like most Roman roads it runs more or less in a straight line over the tops of the hills, and we’ve failed to do it so far due to weather.

So today we started at Pooley Bridge and ran to Howtown, and then up Fusedale. The idea was to follow the footpath up on to Wether Hill and join up with the roman road: but the path didn’t seem to exist. Also by then we’d already taken about 2 hours – of what we’d thought would be a 2 hour run! Fortunately having clambered up the fellside we were then met High Street at the top and it was mostly downhill to get back to Pooley Bridge.

It was a glorious run and despite being incredibly late to pick up the boys, and having creaky knees, I’m looking forward to running High Street from end to end (more or less) next weekend, weather permitting. We’re also going to take our wetsuits and swimming stuff and swim at the end. And it won’t be a day when I need to fetch the children.

Singing

Singing is something else which is fun to do with other people. I’m enough of a performer that I want to do solos: but I want to do solos accompanied by friends, or as part of a concert or recital which friends also take part in. Who knows when choral singing will be permitted again? Meanwhile I’m trying to get a 35-minute programme together for my performance diploma, the main problem being having to stick to a time limit: potentially it could only be about 6-8 pieces. My friend Caroline has recorded some backing tracks for me for practicing, and I’ve suggested to her that when we’re allowed we should get together for a practice, with a view to doing a joint recital at some point. She’s just heard that she may be able to record her (piano) pieces for her next performance diploma, for submission in August, so she’s working hard on that now anyway.

Perhaps most things are more fun done together than solo: I’ve loved watching plays and operas during lockdown, but I like discussing them with friends later; wild swimming is not only more fun with others but also feels safer; and I love sitting and enjoying good food.

With a long run (probably about 15 miles) planned for next Saturday, I might go out on my bike more this week than running. And whilst running today Penny mentioned something which gave me an idea for what to do next year, when I turn 60 – the entire Lakeland Trails series. ‘Inspiring races in beautiful places’: I do hope that we’ll be more or less back to normal by then.

Lockdown 5/Furlough 2

sarahjlewisbriggs3 Comments

I forgot that my ‘major’ problem last week was cat fleas. At least, I think that’s what it was: it might have been something I picked up out running. Every-so-often I seem to get this problem where my ankles get bitten (whatever it is seems to get just inside the top of my socks, where I get the impression that it goes mad because it can’t get out and bites me in frustration).

Last week it seemed to be worse overnight and I got to the stage where I was wondering about not sleeping in my own bed, but in the spare bed. However having sprayed various rooms in the house, washed tons and tons of bed linen (and my younger son’s duvet – just in case), vacuumed like a loony, stuck extra flea-stuff on the cat and slept with a bowl of washing up liquid under my bed, the problem doesn’t seem quite so bad. Fingers crossed.

I’m really enjoying my daily Yoga with Adriene. Having started on her 2015 30 days of yoga but added in a couple of other classes, I’ve just now done day 23 on 22nd April. Next I’m going to do some yoga for the lower back as I have a feeling that might also help my shoulder – I’ve had some sort of shoulder problem (stiffness/pain) which seems to have been exacerbated by doing Duolingo on my phone on the train on the way to work: definitely doing less of that plus some shoulder mobility and stretching exercises helped (and I should probably do more), but yoga and not travelling so much definitely seems to be the real key.

I keep wondering what the world is going to look like; what things we’ll go back to and what we won’t go back to after this virus is ‘over’: if it ever really is. I was doing a CPD webinar yesterday about Permitted Development rights – I don’t know about the planning system in other countries, but over here there are certain changes you can make without planning permission. One of them is changing offices to residential, which has apparently been somewhat contentious as it’s resulted in some very poor quality (and small) residential units. I asked the question at the end of the webinar about why we didn’t, and whether we should, have similar legislation helping the change from retail to residential: our town and city centres years ago suffered from office uses moving out to cheaper and more car-friendly locations on outskirts (a mistake, to my mind, for all sorts of reasons, though you can see why economically it suited people). But nowadays retail is also under pressure and I really think the answer is to bring more residential uses into town and city centres (parking will need some creative thinking, including some way of trying to get us all out of our cars, especially in towns and cities which don’t have good public transport. My aunt, in London (zone 2, so fairly central but not right in the middle), has a car but rarely uses it – but then she also has a bus pass and there is great public transport in London (and a congestion charge)). I’m attending a webinar on the future of the High Street this evening, and am also contributing some questions and thoughts on the subject: I’ll get back to you on this later. Meanwhile I’m off out for a bike ride in the sun (I’m not feeling very motivated to run at the moment).

Later…

It was quite breezy out on the bike but yet another glorious sunny day (in fact I think we probably could really do with some rain, or at least the gardeners and farmers could). I was on my triathlon bike, which I haven’t cycled for ages. I’d been wondering how different it would feel from my other road bike – the answer was, surprisingly so! The gearing means it’s faster on the flat, but harder work uphill – but on the other hand the wheels/tyres are also narrower, which helps. What surprised me – as I’m not terribly technical about bikes – was how different it felt size/shape wise – the frame geometry is more different than I’d expected. And also the saddle is a lot more comfortable – mental note to self to get a different saddle for my other bike, which is overall a more comfortable ride for longer distances (you don’t feel the bumps quite so much).

I loved being out on my bike and decided that I’d cycle this week rather than running – although not tomorrow as I’m ‘at’ an all day online conference and then it’s theatre night, so I shall just go for a quick run at some point. It’s a real luxury having the time to be able to cycle at the moment, so I may as well make the most of it.

When I got home I then finished moving the paving slabs in the garden and planted some pea seeds. I also noticed that loads of lovely tulips are coming into flower: and the african violets are spreading well around the garden!

English

I definitely have more time for one of my favourite pastimes, reading, at the moment: I ‘treat’ myself each morning to some time reading while I drink that so-important first coffee of the day. Fortunately I had a pile of books by my bed and a friend has now also dropped a boxful of books off, so I’ve had plenty of reading material.

A book which was recommended to me was The Adventure of English by Melvyn Bragg, and I’ve just started it. I’ve always been fascinated by language but also by history – I loved the period of history, the so-called dark ages and early medieval, that I did at school. I’d always felt that we (the English) fought so much with the French because we were closely related to them – like brother and sister. In fact we’re probably more closely related to them by going back to Celtic times than through the Normans – but what Melvyn Bragg’s book points out is how closely related the two languages are, and how English very nearly ‘lost’ out to French. I knew that French had carried on being the language of the aristocracy for hundreds of years (rather, I would assume, as it was in Russia?), and I’d always thought that despite being a so-called Germanic language, English actually has a lot in common with Romance languages. I hadn’t fully appreciated or considered just how much of the vocabulary of current day English comes from French, nor that French was, in medieval times, the language of trade (which is how words from Arabic have also come into our language). It’s amazing really when you think that English is now the language of commerce for the entire world.

The other thing, harking back to when I read The Origins of the British, is that English was actually brought into the country by a minority elite, and a minority who only initially ruled the south of the country – who almost lost out to the Vikings. That this language was then nearly overcome by another ruling minority – the Normans – and that they then became almost more English than the English, makes for a fascinating read.

Perhaps rather appropriate that I’m writing this on St. George’s Day – though in fact he was born in Turkey and became a soldier in the Roman army. Perhaps his heritage in some way reflects the rich mongrel mix that is English.

Running vs. cycling

I mentioned that I’d be going for a short run today as there wasn’t time to cycle. In fact my short run turned into a nature walk as after a couple of km I started feeling weird – I get this low blood sugar thing where I start to feel light headed/dizzy, a bit sweaty and a bit shaky – at its worst I get so dizzy that everything goes black; if the kids are around I can also get quite short-tempered and snarly (“stop winding me up and get me food NOW!”).

As I ran/walked I was thinking about the different aspects of running and cycling. What I really love are my long runs with my friend Penny – they’re not in order to get fit, although we do challenge ourselves, but are as much about getting out and exploring places. Having run the 16 biggest lakes of the Lake District for her 50th, I’ve suggested we run 60 of Cumbria’s tarns and small waters for my 60th: we could do some lovely long exploratory runs which would take in 3 or 4 tarns at a time.

Unless you’re a completely dedicated ultra-marathoner, you can’t run really long distances without the odd break for photos, flapjack, etc.: and that’s part of the pleasure of these runs. Cycling, on the other hand, is more relentless somehow: it’s not quite as easy to stop to take photos, and I’m often tempted to stop but instead just keep bowling along – especially if I’ve got up a good pace.

They’re both great in their own way: if I want to start doing triathlon again I’m going to have to get quicker and more consistent with my running; but for now just getting out and about every day is far, far more than I’ve been doing for years! Meanwhile I notice that the wild garlic is beginning to come out: this year I really must collect a load and make soup!

Monday 27th April

So that’s the end of another slightly strange week. Compared with the end of last week (or slightly before), my mood is far better: and from talking to other people I think a lot of people have had a bit of a low this past 10 days or so. It’s maybe just getting used to this different pace of life. I went out for another, longer bike ride – up to Bewcastle. It’s incredibly isolated up there and as I cycled back an amazing panoramic view opened up into the far distance – across to Northumberland, the northern Pennines, the Lake District. I wish my words could describe it better and that a camera could portray it better. You’re not particularly high up at Bewcastle, but you feel far away both in space and time, and as if you’re at the edge of something. The sky is gigantically huge, the sheep spill out on to the road as if cars didn’t exist and it feels as if it wouldn’t be surprising if Celts, Romans, Anglo-Saxons or Vikings suddenly appeared: or a bunch of marauding Border Reivers (English or Scottish) driving cattle.

At the end of this week I am close to having finished my 30 days of yoga; I have had some video singing lessons; I have spoken to friends, some of whom I haven’t spoken to for ages; I’ve done a bit of Italian though not as much as I intended; and I have tried to do home-schooling (surprisingly hard when you’re also trying to be a mother and when the children are actually far more interested in the xbox). I’ve also mused over many things, and whilst I’ve tried to get some of those thoughts down here, as with so many thoughts which are emotional in basis, some of them are less relevant today than they were on the day I had them, and it’s probably as well that transient grumpiness or paranoia doesn’t get written down in a blog.

What am I aiming to achieve in this coming week? Do I really ‘need’ to achieve anything, or is life currently about enjoying what I can, and doing so contentedly, rather than pushing to achieve all the time?

  • Apple and caramel bouchon (cinnamon on top).

My Lockdown diary week 3

sarahjlewisbriggs3 Comments

“Time is what we want most, but what we use worst” (William Penn).

From the Davidstow cheese advert. on classicfm.com………

I wasn’t going to talk more about my daily exercise, but one advantage of the children having gone back to their Dad’s (or rather, their Dad’s girlfriend’s house) is that I can now get out for exercise at my own speed! The weather has been so gorgeous that it’s been a relief and a delight to be outside, even only for an hour or so each day: and I’m regularly and frequently reminded how lucky I am to live in the countryside. In fact I said to some friends in a Zoom meeting (virtual drinks) yesterday that if I had ever had any doubts about moving to Cumbria (which I haven’t, despite some salacious press about me several years ago), they would have been wiped away by recent weeks.

Running or daily exercise is one of the things which for me means making good use of my time. I’ve now heard that I’m to be furloughed (put on 80% of my pay and not expected to do any work whatsoever) for 6 weeks from 14th April until the end of May (subject to revision). I then came across the above quotation – in, of all things, an advertisement and competition for Davidstow cheese! It struck me that it was totally appropriate for the current situation.

So, how will I use my extra time? The time I’ve released by not commuting has been used for yoga, running and singing practice; I also quite often use some of the time when I wake up in the morning to have a coffee and read, rather than having to leap out of bed and rush ahead with the day. I’m currently reading God is not Great by Christopher Hitchens, as well as some short features in Italian, and having just finished The Song of the Lark by Willa Cather. There is a big pile of books next to my bed and a friend has just promised me some more when she comes over to deliver food to her father – so my reading and the expansion of my mind (I hope!!! though that sounds somewhat pretentious) will continue.

This still, however, leaves about 7 hours a day when I would – at least 3 days p.w. – normally be working. What am I going to do with my time? I’ve already mentioned my garden project: that has progressed a little but at least I have the time to do it properly, and also to tidy up my garden a bit. But I was also thinking that it would be quite good to be in a regular morning routine of doing computer-based stuff after yoga. I’m attempting to write two books; I can email or better still video call friends and family; I have a photo book to compile; and I could do some daily Italian practice. In fact my italian conversation group is going to be setting up a twice-weekly zoom chat, so that will give me some impetus on that front.

I also have a ‘challenge’ with some friends where we each plan a route, not using air travel, of two months touring places on our ‘to see’ wishlists – as much as anything I thought it will be interesting to compare notes about where people want to go. I’ve just ordered a map of Europe from Stanfords to aid me with this, as I could do with something larger and more detailed than my world atlas. I’ve also been setting competitions for people at work and now need to dream up some fresh ones – competition 3 is ready to go once competition 2 answers are in!

I’m still waiting to see what the kids think they’re going to do, as if they’re here I’ll be home-schooling. Whatever else furlough brings, I’m resolved to try not to waste the precious extra time.

Monday 13th April – end of week 3

The children were here from Friday until yesterday, and Bella has stayed on for today and tomorrow – Edward has informed me that he’d rather be home-schooled at David’s, and at least Jo (David’s girlfriend) is a teacher, so they’ll be in good hands (though I’m not sure whether languages will feature, so I’ve suggested they are with me on a Friday for languages and other humanity-based subjects).

My focus changes when they’re here: trying to ensure that they get out safely and get some fresh air, sunlight (or daylight at least) and exercise; trying to create meals that they’ll actually eat and which are also healthy. I did a bit more to the garden and have decided to extend the lawn and create a border in the sunny corner, and a pond in one of the areas which is quite shady and where the grass doesn’t grow well. The blackbirds have been really excited by all the digging and the number of worms that are being revealed. And there’s a lot of recycling going on: turf being moved from one area to another and paving slabs in the other direction (I don’t like these concrete paving slabs – the sandstone flags of the patio are far nicer – but I’m not going to throw them away and buy new ones).

Bella wanted to walk down to her school last night, which is of course closed (and in fact the large entrance hall is being used for people to pick up prescriptions). We bumped into one of her teachers there, which was nice for her – she was saying how weird it was and how quiet the town was (and, coming back up the motorway from dropping the boys off, I was initially the only car driving north, which was weird). The teacher’s father in law had died of coronavirus but on a more life-affirming note there was a sheep about to give birth and chicks about to hatch. It reminded me of W H Auden and his poem Musee des Beaux Arts (see below).

It was then the final zoom meeting of my ‘main’ work team: out of 7 of us, 5 of us are being furloughed. I know we’ll stay in touch but it made me feel sad; and I hope the two left holding the fort won’t be too overwhelmed with work. However it also highlights how very expendable we all are, ultimately: in the irony of this situation some of my friends are incredibly busy but it’s amazing how much human industry can be stopped or cancelled and we still carry on living, eating and socialising via social media (it also says something about where I live that almost every time I go out for a walk or run I bump into – from a 2m+ distance – at least one person I know).

Meanwhile I hope I am not breaching any copyright laws by quoting Auden’s poem, which I first read as a teenager and which has stayed with me since (there was another painting used to illustrate it in our poetry books, which I can’t now find – but I also have always loved the painting Hunters in the Snow, which I think was used to illustrate some sort of wintery poem):

Musee des Beaux Arts
About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer’s horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.

In Breughel’s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

My Lockdown Diary – week 2

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The working week

Week 2 didn’t start well. I went to do my washing up and found the sink was full of dirty water which hadn’t drained from the night before. Even prodding around with a brush and a knife didn’t help… I undid some of the pipes, dirty water splashing into and around the bowl I put under the connections, and trying to work out where the blockage was. I went down to the hardware store (still open) and got some nasty chemicals – a big bottle of Mr Muscle – and stuck half down the plughole and half down the plughole in the shower upstairs, which had also been running slow.

That didn’t work in the kitchen sink and despite the fact that I was also trying to work, I spent my lunch hour sending desperate messages and receiving helpful hints via various whatsapp groups about what I could do. In the end I gave up, leaving a pool of disgusting water in the sink, and decided I’d go away and leave it until the end of the working day. I guess it’s a bit like turning the computer off and walking away from it, when that’s not behaving.

Sure enough when I went back after work the sink had, miraculously, cleared. I was a bit doubtful about whether this was a lasting ‘fix’ but I’m pleased to say that two days later it’s still running free. I should also add that I am EXTREMELY careful not to put loads of nasty stuff down the sink nor into the dishwasher – years ago when I worked at Railtrack we had a catering business tenant who didn’t have grease traps in his drains. He almost undermined a whole railway embankment at Finchley Road, and next door’s toilet was backing up due to his blocked drains. Yuck. That was the first time I served a s.146 notice on a tenant.

I’ve been doing my morning yoga regularly and really enjoying it. About 20 minutes is the perfect amount for me, and it sets me up ready to work. On Tuesday I missed going for a run as I didn’t have time – although my singing lesson also got cancelled as my teacher’s boiler had split (it was obviously one of Those Days). And the CPD webinar I joined was booooorrrringggg…

That’s the great thing at the moment though – there is loads of free stuff online, far more than usual. On Wednesday I joined a webinar about co-working. Nothing terribly mind-blowing but a good webinar (and an hour’s CPD), and it made me wonder again what will happen when this is all over. I actually think this is the final death-knell to our high streets as people will have got used to shopping online and to home deliveries: unless everybody goes mad when we’re finally released and hits the high street with all the cash they’ve saved from not going out (?). Have you? Are you saving much money being at home? I am, but the temptation is to go mad online.

The frenzy of whatsapp seems to have died down – I wonder if, one week in, people are becoming a little more relaxed about keeping in touch with people. I’m trying to phone them rather than just whatsapp or email, but I have to admit that so far I’m quite relishing not having the commute to work (I maybe said that last week as well). Today, for example, I did yoga before work, started about 8.30a.m., went for a run at lunchtime, and then worked until about 7p.m. when the National Theatre’s free streaming began.

I think this is such a great idea, and they showed a slightly slapstick comedy which in some ways was a little trite, but I think was exactly what was needed at the moment. I really enjoyed it and am going to try to ‘go to the theatre’ every week. A lot of it would be stuff I wouldn’t dream of buying a ticket for, and other than being tempted to go out into the kitchen to cook dinner in the middle, it’s very pleasant being able to sit in your own home and watch top class theatre. It’s not quite the same as live streaming of opera, plays or ballet in the cinema – it doesn’t have the same sense of occasion – but even so I made sure that I’d put my laptop away and my phone to one side.

Tomorrow the kids will be here – or some of them should be (if I’m going all the way down to Penrith I very much hope they WILL be here) and Bella and I could watch ballet from the Royal Opera House. But until then, I’ve opened and drank far too much of my ‘interval bottle’ of prosecco, and feel ready to fall into bed and slumber.

Sunday 5th April

On Friday morning after yoga and a short run I headed down to Penrith to fetch the children, stopping at Cranstons Penrith food hall en route (which was incredibly quiet – certainly the desperation for food and other necessities seems to have calmed). The kids seemed content to be heading back with me and Bella and Edward in particular were talking about how excited they were to see our cat, Artemis.

Once the kids were here I realised that the ‘loneliness’ I sometimes feel, and which can make me feel really low, isn’t so much from being alone as from feeling unloved – something which I think most parents feel to a greater or lesser extent. Almost as soon as they came in the house, and after they’d made a fuss of the cat, one of the children started demanding to be bought things. My arguments that I don’t know whether I may be furloughed on 80% pay, can’t keep going out to the shops (and don’t want to) and don’t want to run out of this month’s salary too soon, fell on deaf (teenage) ears. True I’m not paying for train fares and various lessons, but I don’t feel I can just go out and spend willy-nilly.

So having wondered why on earth I bothered to fetch them, there was then the pleasure of going for a walk with my two boys – even if the younger was being painfully slow and making a meal of it – and of doing sewing and then watching TV with my daughter. I guess the other thing is that they all want to do, and are capable of doing, such different things. And, whilst I don’t want to do the whole ‘it’s hard being a single parent’ thing, it is definitely far more difficult trying to deal with three kids on your own than when there are two (or even more) adults around: I’m definitely ‘Outnumbered‘.

Having taken this coming week as annual leave, to have the kids over the Easter holidays, it now looks as if none of them will be here. Bella complains bitterly if I ever go abroad without her (I can’t afford to take all the children – even my own holiday to Finland earlier this year was all paid for by credit card and is still being just slowly paid off (something I was hoping to pay off a bit more of if I was able to spend a bit less this month and next)), but I now feel that I may as well use my annual leave for myself if all they’re going to do is be at David’s when I’m in my house on my own while I’m on leave. The last 10 days or so have shown me that I can cope quite happily on my own – in fact the sad thing is that it’s a lot more tranquil when I’m on my own. I love my kids to bits and even though they drive me bonkers I still think they’re amazing in their own, very individual and completely different ways, and it makes me sad that they churn me up so much.

Speaking of being churned up, there’s now the fear of a more strict lockdown being enforced, as crowds of stupid people have been out in parks sunbathing. I’m somewhat less worked up about this than I was about the initial lockdown, but – what idiots! I can completely and utterly sympathise with people in city flats wanting to get out, but as someone said, why not just go for a walk and avoid other people, rather than sitting in a park making it obvious that you’re ignoring social distancing rules. I have been really enjoying my daily yoga and daily bike ride or run and feeling fitter and healthier than I have for ages; I shall be gutted if those of us who want to keep fit and healthy have to stop because of some selfish minority who think they’re not affected by the rules the rest of us are living by (and what about the Scottish Health Minister – what a twit, and what arrogance! She should be sacked. She doesn’t even deserve two houses at a time when some people are facing all sorts of financial problems).

I wonder how many circuits of my house would make up 5km? Would Strava even be able to measure such a short lap?

Monday 6th April – day 14

Well, that’s a fortnight gone, and no rumours on today’s News of lockdown getting more restrictive (I wonder how a sunny Easter weekend will affect people and lockdown, though). My children have gone back to their Dad’s. I did at least manage to get the boys out for a walk again today, and Edward helped a bit in the garden earlier. It’s been such a gorgeous day I’m amazed they weren’t champing at the bit to be outside all day. Edward’s hair is getting curly at the back as it’s getting longer; Alex is developing a floppy fringe in contrast to his normally acutely short ‘army cadet’ cut. I like them both with slightly longer hair!

Having dropped them off I decided I’d drive back on the country roads – along the lower slopes of the north Pennines, up through Lazonby, Kirkoswald, Croglin, Newbiggin and Castle Carrock. For a start it stopped me being tempted to nip into the Co-op for wine and chocolate; and also it’s a beautiful drive. I had ClassicFM on the radio, and passed plenty of people out for their evening exercise: we are so lucky living up here, surrounded by hills and greenery and gorgeous views.

I haven’t done much exercise myself the past few days as it doesn’t fit in with having the kids, and I’m getting itchy feet to be out on my bike. I need to fetch some toilet rolls at some point so if the weather continues like this I will fetch them by bike rather than in the car!

As I drove back I heard the news for the first time in ages. There were fewer deaths from Covid-19 today than yesterday but the Health Minister or someone said it’s too soon to speak of relaxing lockdown (clearly). It brought me up with a start: having been so worried about the restrictions of lockdown, I suddenly realised that I’m not ready for it to finish yet! The status of our lockdown at the moment – where you can still go to the supermarkets etc. for necessities, and when you can go out exercising once a day – has been suiting me fine. I’ve altered my pace of life, and want to be able to continue to do yoga every morning before work and to go for a run at lunchtime or in the evening, and a bike ride on the days when the kids aren’t with me!

People I’ve chatted to are already saying possibly this will change the way we live. I hope so; I really hope so. I’m somewhat sceptical about human greed though.

Meanwhile I’ve started a Garden Project so next week’s Lockdown Diary is going to be less about the logistics of lockdown and more about my garden. I should add that I’m not normally terribly keen on gardening, but this is an opportunity to do some major digging and redesigning (rather than just weeding): a bit like altering rooms inside the house. I’m thinking about a pond, although I know nothing about establishing one and last time I had a pond I killed off all the fish as I treated the water for algae bloom a little too vigorously. What I’d really love is some sort of cascading water feature, but I think that would be far to expensive and time-consuming to install and maintain.

Anyone got a spare bath?

The best things in life…

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About five and a half or six years ago, not long before David left, one of his friends said to me that from reading my blog you’d think I was happy whereas when you met me I was a miserable git (those weren’t his exact words, but close enough).

I’ve looked back at blogposts from around that time and in fact I wasn’t always that happy, but expressed that at times I felt low. But I also know that I have always found some solace in being out and about on my bike or running; with friends; in music. But when your heart feels completely and utterly broken and life seems black even these things are not a consolation.

I think it says something about my general state of mind, therefore, that despite having been desperately upset about the children last week, it didn’t take me long to bounce back and to have a brilliant weekend. Having reacted incredibly emotionally to something on Wednesday evening, by the time I’d had a huge amount of moral support from friends I felt calmer though still tearful on Thursday. The weekend – which, as I don’t have to go to Newcastle to work on Friday, starts for me on Thursday evening quite often – got better and better from there on in.

I went for a bike ride on Friday morning with one of the Claires (I have several friends called Clare or Claire). Her two children are the same age as two of mine, and we’ve been talking about going cycling together for ages. I got side-tracked doing something at home so she cycled to mine, I cycled back with her to her house and had a drink, flapjack and a chat, and I then cycled home again. I hadn’t cycled all of the route before so it was good to try something new, and I saw exactly what she meant as I cycled home – the view as you cycle away from Heads Nook (her village) with the Pennine Fells ahead of you is a lovely one.

Friday evening I very nearly backed out of going to a concert with two friends, Anne and Mark, but was really glad I did go. It would have been so easy to have said “I really don’t feel like it and I need some quiet time and to do my ironing”. We went down to Salkeld Dykes to see Kinfolk in concert in a barn which has been newly converted by Michael Sanderson and Katharine May to a music room, big enough to put on small concerts. Michael plays and sings with Kinfolk as well as being a classical musician – he and his wife Katharine are also Eden Music/Eden Baroque. Kinfolk was performing at Music on the Marr the following night, so it felt quite a privilege to be able to see them in this smaller and more intimate setting – and it was great to be able to chat to them later. I’m never sure whether I’m going to like a whole evening of ‘folk’ music but this was fantastic – I was tapping my foot and smiling for almost the entire evening.

The following afternoon I was singing at Lanercost Priory, with James Booth on guitar, as part of the celebrations for the Priory’s 850th anniversary. I was relieved that I sang far better than I had for the choir concerts back in May (back then being affected partly by nerves and partly as I was going down with a cold) and I’m really looking forward to singing some more with Jim on guitar. Mark and Anne had said the previous evening that they were going to Lanercost on the Saturday evening to see Jerry King’s ukelele band. By now I was on a roll… not at all sure what I’d think of an hour of ukelele music, I agreed to go and again had a brilliant time.

On the Sunday I had arranged to meet up with my sister as she was staying with a friend of hers in Cockermouth. We went to Crummock Water and swam, paddle boarded and kayaked. Not only do I now want a bass guitar for christmas (as a result of seeing Kinfolk) but also I now want an inflatable kayak. The water was beautifully clear – until you got into the deeper part of the lake you could see the rocks beneath you quite easily: completely unlike Keswick the weekend before, which had been muddy, weedy, opaque and disgusting!

Having had a good time splashing about in the lake, followed by a picnic lunch provided by Rachel’s friend Sara, I headed over the Newlands Pass and valley to meet Penny. We drove down to Grange and ran along by the river Derwent (very shallow at the moment due to lack of rain, but very pretty) through Rosthwaite to Seatoller, before turning to go uphill and head in a northerly direction back to Grange. It was about 7 miles in total and we were not particularly quick! However there were some great things along the way such as the metal chain pinned into the rocks just past the YHA at Seatoller – the rocks must be really slippery when it’s wet weather – and Castle Crag, which is stunning. The view of Castle Crag from a distance and at stream level I felt was an almost alpine one – but then I’ve often thought that about Keswick, and also sometimes about Penrith, when I’ve seen them in the snow with the fells behind them. This time was more the summer mountain pastures aspect and I guess if climate change continues the way it is so far then actually that won’t be so inaccurate.

I stopped off at Rheged on the way home to buy some dinner for myself (even the food in the petrol station at Rheged is of a quality you don’t normally find in such places – including some beautiful French-style patisserie, though I didn’t buy any of those on this day). I sang to myself up the motorway and thought how lucky I was. I had had a weekend which had included friends (and my sister, who it was great to see), music, running, swimming, cycling and the beautiful outdoors.

What could be better (other than perhaps my kids having come along too, and enjoyed themselves)?

Ageing and such like

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I have come across various quotations recently, including one today which said ‘it’s never too late to become the person you want to become’ and another – an advertisement by the Sanctuary Spa – encouraging women to relax and to ‘let go’ .  As I am just starting a college course, aiming for a change in career and it’s my birthday next week, both got me thinking.

Changing career is both exciting and daunting.   I am old enough to be the mother, if not the grandmother, of some of the other students.  But for some while now I have wanted to do something more creative.  Singing and writing were never going to pay the bills; cooking on the other hand, although at most levels not as well paid as surveying, could do.  I am torn between wanting to do something which is fulfilling for me; having to provide financially for my children; trying to balance work with looking after my children (picking them up from school, not too many hours in after school club, trying not to ask their father to look after them more than I do, etc. etc.).  I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing – I’m definitely stepping out of my comfort zone in many ways – but I do know that drifting along as a surveyor is not satisfying, not fulfilling and, ultimately, doesn’t seem to be providing the right opportunities to make of it either a career or a vocation any longer.  I’ve applied for jobs and got nowhere, whereas already opportunities for catering are coming my way.

The other issue I’m debating in my head is whether it’s selfish to find something which is fulfilling, career-wise (which is why being able to provide for my children financially is an important factor).  The Sanctuary advert popped into my consciousness at just the right moment: my Thursday evening run had been cancelled (partly by me – the weather was atrocious) and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself and a bit low.  Straight away I was thinking about my ‘to do’ list and how, as I wasn’t going running I then ‘must do… singing practice; learn/practice Italian; sort out my college folder; write all the features I’ve been meaning to write; go out for a run anyway…’ as if the suddenly empty time had to be filled.

The Sanctuary advert pulled me up short.  I roamed around a bit on Facebook, finding an inspiring clip about a man who had started running at 95 and long jump at 97; I lit some candles and had a bath (I normally have a shower as it’s quicker), lying there for ages not even reading but with bubbles about a foot higher than the surface of the water, just day dreaming; I eventually did some singing; and then I roamed around a bit more on Facebook and pinterest before writing this post.

I haven’t done all the things I could have done; but instead of feeling sad and sorry for myself I’ve enjoyed having some contemplative, peaceful time on my own.  I’m happy that I’m following my dream of being more creative, and excited about my change of career and where it might lead me: and I’m glad I’m doing it before I’m too old.

I still have a list of things to do, or that I wish to do, and I don’t want to live to regret not doing anything – but at the same time I know that sometimes it’s OK just to take some time out and do nothing.  As the Italians say, “la dolce far niente”.  And at those points, when you’re happy enough and confident enough to stop – to have a break from the rushing around we all do – you can look into yourself and see who you really are.  And you know what?  I like who I am (phew!).

Half term with the kids

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Half term has been and gone in a flash.  Last weekend was David’s turn to have the children, although I had them on Friday night and Saturday night, which meant that I had time for a run on Askham Fell with Penny on Sunday.  Both of us had work to do so after a late lunch at the cafe at Askham Hall, it was time to head home.  I drove back over the hills rather than up the motorway, and came to the conclusion that one day I shall live in Penrith or Kirkoswald, high up a hill and with a view.

On Monday Edward and Bella were keen to go to Energi, the new(ish) trampolining place in Carlisle.  I jumped too… I’m not very good as whilst I don’t mind jumping high, I’m not very brave at jumping over on to the next trampoline – though I did manage it a few times.  I also landed on the hard bit in between a couple of times, which is rather jarring on the ankles.  I wonder if I was the oldest jumper in the place?  I’m now thinking it would be good to go to one of the ‘Energi Fit’ classes.

Tuesday I had a conference and choir, so the children were with David Monday night and Tuesday night and back to me on Wednesday morning.  We had various dentists and opticians appointments all week, Edward had a swimming lesson every afternoon, and Bella was booked on to a Robotics course on Wednesday.  She found it boring as all they did was make robots out of cardboard, but at least she didn’t learn how to hack the school computer and write rude things on it, which was what happened after the Coding course… we also did some cooking that afternoon – she made a flourless chocolate cake and I made banana cake.  As nobody wanted to eat the banana cake (none of us is a fan of bananas, it seems) we gave it away, and I understand it was enjoyed by the recipients.

On Thursday the ‘treat’ was the Lego Batman movie, along with popcorn and hotdogs.  It hasn’t been a particularly healthy week food-wise, the more so as the kids seem to be rebelling against my tendency to want to eat fish as my main protein rather than red meat.  So this week we have had spaghetti bolognese, chicken curry, and chilli with tacos – I’ve also made lamb tagine which I’m going to add butternut squash to before serving it with couscous, but I’m not sure what the trio’s reaction will be to that.

I had arranged to meet a friend at Whinlatter on Friday and as we drove down there the weather was colourful.  The sky was bright azure blue, the main central lakeland fells were covered in snow, and the plantlife was a mix of golden russet brown and vibrant-about-to-be-spring green.  The kids had a good time running around in the playground, although Alex tried to be too old and too cool for it.  Judging by my garden, spring is definitely on its way, and despite Storm Doris (a bit of a non-event up here in Cumbria), the weather hasn’t even been particularly cold.

Not until today, that is – and even then it was only cold on Talkin Fell.  Alex had a friend, Luke, to stay for the weekend.  We had a militaristic day yesterday with a visit to Carlisle Castle and the Regimental Museum followed by the Roman Gallery at Tullie House and then today decided we’d walk up Talkin Fell.

It all started well enough but became windier, wetter and wilder the higher we got.  Bella then fell over in some mud (as happened last time we went up there as well – spot the brown-ness of her black jeans), and the happy mood of the day changed to grumpiness.  As by then we were all getting colder and wetter we decided perhaps we wouldn’t go all the way to the top and eat our picnic up by the cairns: and the two older boys suggested sensibly that we should walk back to the car and eat the picnic in the car.

Edward has got happily filthy every day this holiday week; they have all eaten a lot of rubbish food (as well as plenty of good food as well) – and despite the inevitable arguments, anger and tellings off – it’s been a fab. week.

Almost a Final Farewell

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“take the road less travelled and simply open your eyes” – Laurence Shelley

icarus

The end of a year makes most of us consider all sorts of things: what we have achieved in the past year; what we have learnt; how next year will be different; how this year compares with those that have gone before.  As we approach 2017 I am looking in to setting up my own business, continue to try to promote my singing and writing, and am also trying to get extra work.  More importantly I am in a different place emotionally (calmer, happier and more accepting) to where I was this time last year or even a few months ago.  I have become aware that I just can’t do everything: and blogging is one thing which may need to take a back seat.  I don’t feel at the moment as if I can add anything useful or enlightening and I am conscious that I have started repeating myself.  It feels as if this blog has now come to a natural end (unlike in Febuary, when I thought of finishing but actually was only at the beginning of an emotional journey).

I started blogging in April 2010 with UnemployedinCumbria on Blogspot.  It was intended to be a blog about getting a new job in a rural county which has a small, low-density, population and not much of a commercial property market (I’m a Chartered Surveyor by profession) – though I also wanted to change career.  I had more of a career change than I expected as I found to my surprise that I was pregnant with a third child – at age 48.  The blog ended up being about being pregnant in my late 40s, having a baby at age 49, and having no job and therefore a much-reduced household income.  We had also moved into a house which needed a bit of TLC so there are bits about my coming to terms with sorting out the garden as well – the children still remember my poisoning the fish in an attempt to rid the pond of algae…!

Once child no. 3 was lustily here I began to think about doing triathlon again, and started a blog which was meant to be more or less a training diary – Supervet-Sarah.  As this second blog developed I stopped the other, but the aim of once again competing regularly in triathlon and at ‘supervet’ (50+) age still hasn’t been achieved.  However it did track my training for Kielder Marathon at age 51 including various micro-adventurous training runs I did with Kerry, who also did Kielder, and during that time I did Kendal sprint triathlon – though very badly (I was slow on the swim and fell off my bike: First Triathlon in How Long? ). That blog ends rather abruptly in August 2014, shortly before David left.  The final words of the final post are “I’m very proud of my little girl” – something I need reminding of from time to time as she’s also very feisty and wilful so I frequently get cross with her, sometimes quite unfairly.

In early 2015 I started this blog.  There’s a hiatus between David leaving at the end of August 2014 and the start – a time when I adjusted to being ‘young (at heart) free and single’ again and to being without the children every other weekend.  By the end of the year I had come to the conclusion that 2014 was the year of broken things – my marriage, my washing machine and my dishwasher but on a less frivolous note sad ‘broken’ things happened to a lot of people.  They always do but I guess it’s how the year has been for you overall that remains in your memory.

By contrast 2015 was then a year of freedom, joy and passion.  I relished my new-found freedom and realised who I truly was.  By the middle of the year I was on a high – I got a new job; fell deeply and whole-heartedly in love with a man who had fallen passionately in love with me; and my singing seemed to be flying too: I had more confidence and performed solo more than I had previously, including arranging concerts for my group Eight + 1.  I flew high – but like Icarus I perhaps flew too high – too close to the sun – and like Icarus I crashed.

Unlike Icarus I had plenty of people to catch me before I hit the ground, and to support me, but it led to a challenging time and made 2016 a challenging year.  It has also been a year of farewells – obviously the usual round of celebrities have died, including David Bowie and Alan Rickman – but also people who were briefly part of my everyday life have moved – my lovely neighbours Margaret & David, who moved to Cornwall; and Capernaum restaurant, which was one of my favourite restaurants ever – the children still judge food by ‘the Capernaum scale’ with few restaurants beating it.  It was also farewell to my friend Clare’s husband, Bob.  He had suffered from severe COPD for several years but hung on strongly for so long.  I am incredibly glad that Deborah and I went to sing Songs for Bob at their house in April, accompanied by Martin Johnson; I am sad that I missed the funeral; and I shall always appreciate the fact that he called me ‘Pocket Venus’.  Clare and her family at times have had more faith in me than I have had in myself.

At the same time however there were plenty of hellos and I got to do some travelling in a minor way, which is something I love and hadn’t done for ages.  I was pretty reclusive for the first part of the year, barely even going into the town centre where I live in case I bumped into anyone I knew and most of the time feeling desperate to run away abroad and ‘hide’.  Six months ago (June), just as I was finally coming out of my depression, I wrote “I want to learn Italian; do lots of long bike rides and write them up; travel; sing; write… and of course there has to be time for my surveying work, which is what, after all, pays the bills.  And I want to fit in some time for trail running out on those lovely hills or along by the sea; for yoga; and for meditation.”  I have in fact managed, to a greater or lesser extent, to do all those things.

As I look forward to 2017 I hope to travel more (I still have a yen to go abroad to do some voluntary work, but it’s difficult with children and needing to earn money to pay for things for them); to write (I need to finish my long bike ride and write it up); to sing (there are four gigs coming up for Bellissima and we now have our own Facebook page as well); to run and cycle; and to earn enough money, ideally doing things I love (fingers crossed for the job I have applied for, but for keeping doing surveying as well, as I have a great boss and I don’t want to let him down) and to perhaps start my own business.  And, of course, to spend time with my kids – if I can earn enough then I want to be able to take the whole of August off to spend it with them – my dream is to tour Northumbria in a camper van.  But who knows what the new year will hold – I learnt long ago that you can’t plan your life.  Things you want do happen, but rarely in the way you expect.

I learnt a lot of lessons in 2016.  One was about being true to myself, which I already knew I should do but which, I learnt, means that sometimes I need to swim against the pack and follow my instincts and my heart despite what anybody else says (I’ve done so in the past and proved people wrong… and if you don’t try then you never know, do you?).  Another lesson, again which I already knew but which was reiterated, was that there are different outlooks on life and none is right or wrong.  David and I separated; we are happier separated but we still get on.  For us – and for our children – that works, but it’s not the solution for everybody and not everybody can manage to be as amicable as we (mostly) are (we had an argument today – he came round to make peace, we had a chat and he gave me a brief hug.  We no longer love each other but we can at least get on and not use the children as emotional blackmail against each other – which I  hope is best for the children too.  I guess he’s sort of a friend – which is what he was before we got together so there’s a sense of resolution in still being at least on friendly terms).

Finally, I learnt that I can’t do everything.  Emotionally, physically, mentally or even in terms of time.  I have had to accept that Child Tax Credits may need to bolster my income if I want to spend enough time with my children as well as, importantly, allowing the creative side of me some outlet; I also have to accept that there are just not enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do.  I tried to do it all: to be a mother (teacher, taxi service, cook, housekeeper, gardener…), a writer, a singer, a lover, to keep fit, to work full-time and to commute, and it didn’t work.  2016 as much as anything has been about getting some balance back.  I’ve even said ‘no’ to some things – I didn’t sing with choir this term and I’m not going to be touring with them in May (I can’t afford to but more importantly I don’t want to go abroad without the children).  I have learnt over the past few years though that allowing the creative side of me some outlet is hugely important: it’s a fundamental part of who I am.  It’s not about being self-gratifying however but about how you can make it fit into a life where you have to provide for your children and do the washing up as well.

This blog has been great for getting my head straight and I hope I will look back at my posts and still enjoy reading them.  People have criticised me, mostly when they have felt criticised by me, but writing has always been a type of therapy for me.  Perhaps it shouldn’t be so public (though the maximum number of readers I have had for any post has been 210, which really isn’t that many) but if just one person has felt better because of a post I have written – if just one person has thought ‘yes, that’s how I feel too’ – then this blog has not been in vain.

From time to time there may perhaps be another, but for now this, my 99th post in this blog, is a farewell – with best wishes for the New Year to you all.

butterfly-in-hand

A song

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There’s a song here – I’m dimly aware of the music, though can’t ‘hear’ it clearly enough to write it down.  It’s a light, trippy, cheerful tune with an element of tribute to U2, as U2 fans will see from the words (by the way did anyone see that alleged competition on Facebook to win places at a U2 rehearsal?  I bet it was a scam but if it wasn’t it would be fab.!).

You broke my heart; tore me apart

Left me to fall, careless if I hit the wall

I was born to sing for you and yet you were so cruel

I fell for you utterly but ended feeling a fool.

Chorus:

I’m picking up the pieces, the pieces get fixed up

I was close to being shattered, completely, utterly *ucked

But I’m picking up the pieces, the pieces get glued back up.

 

You told me you were serious, didn’t want to lose me

Held me close on waking, trying not to move me

Slept with my jumper when I wasn’t there

Worshipped me, adored me – of that I was aware.

Chorus:

So I’m picking up the pieces, the pieces get fixed up

I was close to being shattered, completely, utterly *ucked

And I’m picking up the pieces which get glued back up.

 

Life goes on regardless – in fact it’s pretty good

Knowing all along that for my kids it really should

Despite the times when, broken, I wanted it to stop

We were one, we were much the same – and the pieces got picked up.

Chorus:

I’m picking up the pieces, the pieces get fixed up

I was close to being shattered, completely, utterly *ucked

But I’m picking up the pieces, the pieces are glued back up.

Club la Santa, Lanzarote

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This is just a brief post with plenty of pictures as a short memento of a fantastic holiday.  ‘Thank you’ to my friend Penny, who was an easy travelling companion, and to my Mum who gave me a generous enough cheque for my birthday that I could afford to go back to Club la Santa for the FOURTH time (I hardly ever go back to exactly the same place twice – there are too many other interesting places to explore, but I always have a fab. time at Club la Santa).  It had been refurbished and extended since I last went and is now really nice and modern – and the showers are fantastic!

We flew out of the UK on a day when there was snow on the ground.  The weather on Lanzarote was not perfect all week – it was very windy for cycling – and we even wore jeans (rather than dresses/skirts) some evenings, and fleeces – but it was as good as many a British summer and great to be outdoors exercising almost all day every day.  We agreed we should try something new every day so in addition to running, swimming and cycling we did:

paddle boarding; a fitness class on paddle boards; deep water aqua; Zumba; aerial relaxation; aerial pilates (and, in my case, aerial yoga as well); TRX; body balance; body attack; body combat, Taiji Qigong… etc.

By bike we cycled:

to the Fire Mountains (the visitor centre en route is great – and free – and I love the way it’s still so hot underfoot in the mountains themselves that dry brushwood will catch fire);

past Playa de Fumara, up to the Monumento al Campesino and then along a very bumpy road through La Geria to then head back down from Tinajo to Club la Santa;

and up through Soo, Munique and Tiagua to Nazaret and a house that once belonged to Omar Shariff – Lag-Omar – but which is now a fascinating ‘museum’ come party venue (I think the guy trying to sell me some Aloe Vera products was also trying to chat me up… telling me that Aloe Vera would make me sexy and that I’d come back in two weeks and want to kiss him… hmm…).

I especially liked the way that many of the roads had ‘watch out for cyclists’ signs – I think it was only on the route of the Lanzarote Ironman, but shows how popular the island is for cyclists.  At 856 sq km there’s only really one ironman route available – as a comparison, Cumbria covers 6,768 sq km: but has a total of c.400,000 people to Lanzarote’s 139,000. Both of course have their populations boosted significantly by tourists – something which the Lanzarotians seem to welcome: they were all incredibly friendly and seemed delighted if you even spoke a couple of words in hesitating Spanish.

I’ve mentioned restaurants in a separate post. We were a bit disappointed by the ones at Club la Santa, other than La Plaza in the square (where we were served by a cute English waiter who was a bit of an Orlando Bloom look alike).  Restaurant Atlantico is great for enormous quantities of food; El Lago was disappointing for what it seemed to be trying to achieve, although they make a lovely gin and tonic.  Talking of gins and tonics, the Welsh barman in the Sports Bar was a bit of a gin expert and took ages creating two masterly gin and tonics – he likes Martin Miller, which is one I had come across, bought and particularly liked when I had a dinner party recently.

So it was a week of lovely weather and fresh air, exercise as well as relaxation, food and drink.  It was good for the mind and soul as well as the body, and I was a little sad to come home.  One day I would love to take the kids there, as I’m sure they’d enjoy it too.