Two days ago we landed in Scotland into the embrace of the mist hanging low over the Firth of Forth and the capital. We got our first sighting of the new bridge in the far distance. Quite stunning.
Today the sun has shone and, between our final preparations for getting back to our own home tomorrow, we have enjoyed its warmth in our friend’s garden.
We stopped over in Paris last night. It was a bonus to find ourselves wandering along by the Seine, past the amusing gargoyles of Notre Dame with time to visit two favourite shops, the most fascinating bookshop, Shakespeare & Company, and the best scarf shop in all the world, Kazana.
This morning we took a walk over Pont d’Austerlitz, through the Jardin des Plantes and on to the Mosquée de Paris. A lovely end to a nourishing week.
Wended my way through the village of Gordes enjoying the stonework, doors and windows. My eye was caught by what must have once been a Christian shrine to Mary or a local saint. Now in the space where a statue once sat a more modern pillar of decreasing sized stones is found. It reminded me of a beach on the Isle of St.Agnes in the Scillies where many folk had developed the modern custom of building such a stone pillar.
I am not certain what these pillars hold for those who build them. Maybe it is different for each person who builds one. It would not surprise me if many held something of the spirituality of each person’s journey.
The one bus to Gordes was full this morning. We waited over an hour for a taxi but the wait was worth it. The short trip up the mountain offered a wonderful first sight of the village across the valley.
We shared a sandwich for lunch to leave room for lavender ice cream and then wandered the village streets looking for simple, local food to take back for the family who are arriving later.
We scanned the valley floor from the village wall but fear we have missed the lavender fields again. Too early in March when we drove through Provence and too late now we have returned!
We flew out from Edinburgh to Marseilles this morning refreshed by a couple of days hospitality from a Scottish friend. The temperature on arrival was exactly twice that of Edinburgh but nicely tempered by a lively breeze off the Mediterranean Sea.
We took a train north to Cavaillon, a commune in the Vaucluse department in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region in southeastern France. The town is famous for growing melons – the heavier the melon, the sweeter and juicier it is.
We will search out melon for dinner!
We are back in Marske-by-the-Sea after a stunning drive up Wharfedale and over into Wensleydale and then eastwards to the coast.
It was great to take a pre dinner stroll along the beach from Marske to Saltburn and back. The air was warm and salty and the light constantly changing on Huntcliff. We picked up our pace as we made the journey back under darkening clouds.
Pizza, salad and a beer were hugely welcome followed by an early night and a long, long sleep.
Yesterday, after a month of volunteering, we left Scargill House, a conference, holiday and retreat centre in the Yorkshire Dales run by an intentional community.
Being at Scargill has afforded us space to reflect on our experience of the past year of travel, on where we find ourselves at this point in our lives, and on what might be the path we take in the weeks and months ahead.
We have been touched by the welcome we received from the community and warmed by the openness and kindness of those we have got to know a little.
I’m not so sure we will miss the bed making, table laying, laundering or cleaning but we will miss the community…and we will miss the beauty of Wharfedale.
I had forgotten how well tended the walled garden is at Scargill House. This time of year it is a riot of colour, texture and form, and perfumed by its numerous plants, shrubs and trees.
The high limestone wall creates a very special place in which to wander or sit in secluded stillness, to listen to the song of the curlew or enjoy a moment’s relaxed reflection.
It has been a great foil to the fast paced shifts and changes of the current political scene in the UK.
Walking through the gorgeous meadows of wild flowers here in Wharfedale reminded us of similar meadows in Burgundy, France. Such simple colour, perfume and beauty.
However, it seems to me that it is the limestone barns and walls that makes the Yorkshire Dales landscape even greater food for the soul.
Spotted a family of siskins around the bird feeder. Lovely to discover the name of a bird I had not been aware of before now. Whilst the chaffinches, blue tits, and sparrows played nicely with each other the feisty siskins fought between themselves over the plentiful food.
Such a stunning colour and markings though. I really liked them.
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