sabbatical – Let Luce!

Time Well Spent

Posted on 3rd May 20203rd May 2020 by luce

With my travels unexpectedly interrupted by the spread of the corona virus, on more than one occasion it has been mentioned by friends and family, “Oh but you must be bored,” or “You poor things not being able to travel.” When I hear this, I find myself having to justify why I don’t feel either boredom or self-pity. I thank them for their concerns with an underlying feeling of guilt because at this point in time, there are far more pressing worries in these ‘COVID-19 times’.

Initially we did have to adjust and accept the fact that we could not continue our travels to Spain, Croatia and then take the planned long road-trip through Italy to Crete. However, it has actually been relatively easy to recalibrate and I am certainly not in a position to be dwelling on my misfortunes of not being able to travel. There are clearly other people on whom to focus: the elderly, the vulnerable, the key workers and how the effect of isolation and inaccessibility to vital resources can be managed.

“Oh, you must be bored?”

Bored? No. It is not worth dwelling on what you can’t do. The best thing is to focus on making the most of the opportunities that are presented by unforeseen circumstances. In this case, I have settled into home-life just loving the fact that I have time to discover new hobbies as well indulging in long-term loves, which I never had time for before or which I was too exhausted to do when my job dominated my life. I can now spend hours at a sewing machine, learning Greek, running an increasing number of kilometres, cooking, yoga, catching up with the classics on audiobooks, chatting to my family and friends, crocheting, thinking about and writing a number of unfinished blogs, reading paperbacks and also e-books on a Kindle, painting doors and walls, growing vegetables and herbs, catching up on TV, listening to podcasts, as well as learning through thoughtfully-selected online OU courses.

“You poor things not being able to travel.”

When people expressed an element of feeling sorry for us for not being able to travel, a sense of awkwardness set in when I considered my current situation. I wasn’t a key worker, I wasn’t a front line NHS worker, and I didn’t have to worry about my job – whether I would lose it or put myself at risk by working. Having already given up work with the plan to travel, no one was expecting me to be anywhere to do anything at any time. So it was easy to adjust to the changes: I was just in a different country than I had intended to be in. I certainly didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. For the time being, travelling has to wait, which it will.

With time at home now available and in an attempt to contribute some sort of worthwhile support in this current lockdown, I signed up to be an NHS volunteer. Once accepted, with much anticipation I prepared to be immediately busy helping others, however no alerts came (or have come) through. Although initially frustrating, I can only assume that the lack of request calls has to be a good thing. So what else could I do to help?

With recent discussion on whether face masks are beneficial or not to help prevent the spread of the virus, I am now busily putting my sewing skills to good use and making these. This was prompted by a request from my brother, who lives in London (with its concentrated number of corona cases) where he asked me if I could make some face masks for him and his family. This has since sparked off further requests so now I am feeling vaguely useful. My contribution maybe small, but it is valuable to some.

None of us planned for these last few weeks and who knows what life will be like over the next few weeks or months. But, cliche to hand, don’t forget that every cloud has a silver lining – you just have to make sure you find it.

Travelling

Le Ski

Posted on 20th Feb 20202nd Mar 2020 by luce

Skiing is a glorious activity particularly when the conditions are ideal: plenty of snow; a cloudless, blue sky; a beautiful sun, which feels wonderfully warm on your face and a crisp air temperature that is suitably cold enough to allow you to wrap up in appropriate ski gear.

And those were the conditions we were hoping for as we drove the twelve hour car journey to the French Alps, leaving Storm Dennis in the UK.

Good old Storm Dennis (if you say his name enough times, he soon starts to feel like a long lost relative) led to some interesting family chat on the journey: the origin of storm names, the definition of a storm and what happens to the name of a storm as it crosses the border to another country.

It was one of those fun family banter sessions that any eavesdropper would think highly mundane, particularly the part when, having found out that there is no storm name beginning with Q, U or X, Y and Z, we, of course, needed to suggest a few.

Finally arriving just before ten p.m in Le Grand Bornand (a lesser-known ski resort which is best kept that way – we don’t want too many of us English clogging up the slopes!), we sighed with welcomed relief that the lovely local establishment ‘La Croix St Maurice’ would still serve us food despite the late hour. They thankfully agreed to rustle up some pizzas. Settling down with a bite of a slice, we relaxed and unwound ready for the next few days skiing.

Although I have been skiing for many years, I am now not a skier who likes to go too fast: I am more of a leisurely skier, who enjoys taking in the surroundings and musing on life as I ski. Saying that, I am secretly proud of my recent recorded speed of 51 km/h. It’s just when I compare it to my eldest daughter, who has exceeded 90 km/h then it doesn’t sound quite so fast!

On the French slopes, it’s amazing to see almost toddler-aged children on skis – children as young as three years old. Without a care in the world, there are those that look like they were born with a pair of skis attached to their feet as they shoot down the slopes with skill and speed. Meanwhile others look a little bewildered as though someone has just left them at the top of the slope and given them a nudge. Yet they still manage to reach the bottom in one piece and without fuss, almost clueless as to how they got there. You should hear me when I am negotiating a slope that is a little too steep for my liking!

Today I was minding my own business as I sashayed down the mountain, deep in daydream, when I heard a scream – a continuous high-pitched scream that was approaching me at high speed. Judging by the flow of the noise, I knew it wasn’t an injured skier splayed out on a nearby tree so I deduced that it was an out of control child heading towards me.

Glancing back, I saw this very small person (about 3 or 4 years old) hurtling down the slope screeching like a banshee. Slight panic hit me because I wasn’t sure how to help and, to be perfectly honest, I was a little concerned about doing myself an injury in some pathetic haphazard rescue attempt.

Luckily, out of nowhere and as if on cue, the older brother (and when I say older – he must have been all of six or seven years old) swiftly caught up with his younger sibling. He skied alongside her calling out encouraging words of support as he then subtly manoeuvred his skis slightly in front to cause her to position herself at more of angle across the slope to help her slow down.

It all happened so quickly and it was just admirable to watch. He was like a trained member of the SAS, who switched into action as soon as he heard the first note of the scream. Meanwhile, I continued slowly downhill feeling a little ashamed that I hadn’t stretched out my arm to even pretend that I was trying to help. In all honesty, I was best out of it as I probably would have unintentionally done more harm than good, however I shall definitely be musing on how I could be more effective should someone require my help on my next outing on the slopes.

Travelling

Bratislava

Posted on 11th Feb 20202nd Mar 2020 by luce

Whilst in Vienna we discovered how easy it was to jump on a train to visit Bratislava in Slovakia and so we decided to make the most of the opportunity, particularly as it was another country that neither of us had been to before and it still felt quite exciting to be able to make these random, unintended decisions.

Buying tickets was a smooth operation due to the effiiciency and helpfulness of the Viennese ticket office and in just over an hour on a comfortable train ride (which was perhaps a little overheated) we arrived in this neighbouring country. With a ticket option to return the same or next day, we arrived with no plan other than to explore Bratislava.

When you arrive at pretty much any bus or train station, you are not usually entering a city from its best side and Bratislava is no different. (With more thought, I am sure I could list examples of picturesque train and bus stations in the best parts of town, but generally in recent experience, the stations have been to the edge and not in the most salubrious areas of a city.) So, although Bratislava looked a little drab at first, the more we walked, the more we discovered what this city had to offer – so much so that in the afternoon we made an impromptu hotel booking to stay the night so that we had longer to explore and enjoy the Slovakian delights.

During the morning, we wandered through the old town; there was a sense that there was more to see and if you ever travel anywhere with my husband, you always know that there will be no stone left unturned wherever you visit! I’m glad we continued to explore because Bratislava is a lovely place.

The old town was quaint and cosy mixed with an imperceptible feel of affectionate neglect – a bit like a favourite slightly worn sofa that has memories and history. It was comfortable to wander the cobbled streets in a city that didn’t feel the need to deliberately spruce up and ‘put on an act’ to attract tourists.

As we ventured further, we headed up the hill. At the top, Bratislava’s castle majestically watches over the old town and we battled icy winds to take a look. Whilst up there I was desperate for the loo. Luckily there were facilities, but unluckily there was an 80 cent charge. I scrabbled around in my bag for the correct change – unfortunately without success – and so I handed over a 20 euro note thinking (but not necessarily expecting) that perhaps I would hear a, “Oh don’t worry about it, have your wee for free”. But no. (And I agree, why should she?) Instead I watched this guardian of the toilets painstakingly count out the change and even dip into her own purse to salvage the remainder as the toilet coffers were insufficient. (Note to self: next time, carry change.)

Relieved and refreshed, we continued on to the more modern parts of Bratislava, which included a shopping centre. This was – as far as shopping centres go – lovely. Usually, I am not a huge fan of shopping centres (I dislike being inside), but with its high glass ceiling which let in copious amounts of light and with minimal people milling around, it was definitely ‘decent’. It even included a welcoming ‘Decathlon’, which I decided I had to have a look around. I had no intention of buying anything – not because I didn’t want to but because frustratingly I couldn’t fit anything extra in my rucksack.

After an injection of the retail world, we ambled along a path which bordered the River Danube. By this time the sun was shining and it was lovely to leisurely stroll along the river, especially having just made the decision to stay longer in Bratislava. This decision led to a relaxing evening, which, of course, included sampling the local beer!

Travelling

Oodi Central Library

Posted on 24th Jan 20202nd Mar 2020 by luce

It is not often that I enter a place and find myself unable and unwilling to speak due to the utter bliss I feel as I avidly soak up my surroundings.

Welcome to the most loveliest of places – the Oodi Central library in Helsinki. It is a place of thriving tranquility where people of all ages can sit, chat, work, scroll, think, write, read or even learn a skill.

There are three floors altogether: a cafe on the ground floor and then on the second floor – spaces to play electronic games, make use of a 3D printer, sew fabric on one of the sewing machines or work in peace in a private glass booth.The top floor, where I am writing this, comprises various seating areas: work stations, sofas, communal tables, isolated chairs, a sloped wooden floor and so the list goes on. It took me a while to decide where to sit as it was all so inviting.

As I sit and write, I am aware of a soft, gentle hum of voices but if I choose to, I can tune in on a conversation close by or switch off completely and get lost in my own thoughts. Glancing around, there are individuals randomly seated absorbed in their own books; to my right is a long table busy with a hive of quiet activity, where people work on open laptops; meanwhile over to my left four young girls chat on lounge seats around a low coffee table and in the far corner by the window, crossed-legged on the wide, wooden ledge sit a young couple playing Monopoly borrowed from the library shelves that stand in the central area of the top floor.

Someone has found a comfortable spot to read the newspaper!

Really, words do not suffice to describe this wonderful calming, yet productive space. It’s strange because people seem lost (and so relaxed) in their own little world and yet it feels such a extraordinarily sociable environment. If Helsinki is on your list of places to travel, then I highly recommend that you take a couple of hours out to relax in the Oodi Central library.

Travelling

Hounslow to Helsinki

Posted on 22nd Jan 20202nd Mar 2020 by luce

On our day of departure, I started the morning with a refreshing 5km run along the sea front. It was one of those beautiful sunny, cold crisp mornings, which is my favourite kind of weather. When I was teaching, my daily two mile commute (hardly warrants the word ‘commute’ I know, but I was heading to work so in theory it was) took me along the sea front and I would often wish that I was out on a run on those early mornings rather than driving to work. So before leaving for my travels, I was keen to make the point to myself that I no longer went to work! It was beautiful: there was one moment when I was staring out to sea and the sun beamed through the sparse broken cloud, which looked just like a thin layer of cotton wool that had been gently teased apart. The ray of light shining down on me felt like some sort of sign (don’t worry, nothing deep and meaningful) – like a thumbs up to the fact that I was enjoying a run rather than going to work!

We left after lunch – first a 30 minute walk to the train station and then a 2 hour train ride to Victoria followed by a tube to Hounslow where we were staying the night in close proximity to Heathrow ready for our early morning flight the following day.

I hate taking the Underground but on this occasion it was the most practical means to get to our hotel for the night. Being rammed into a crowded tube train during rush hour made us contemplate the poor timing of our departure and it momentarily took our minds off course from the excitement of our impending flight.

Tightly packed in the carriage, I watched the boy next to me (I’m guessing he was about 15) contemplatively touch the packaged sandwich that he had inside his Pret-a-Manger bag. I could almost sense him wondering whether he could feasibly eat his sandwich standing up in a jolting tube surrounded by commuters.

He eventually decided that he would attempt this feat. I grimaced as I smelt the aroma of fish waft into my nose. I didn’t think anyone in their right mind would choose to eat a sandwich in such dire surroundings and certainly not a tuna sandwich (the smell – urgh!), however the poor boy must have been starving because he worked so surely and intently to open the package and he literally couldn’t take his eyes off the sandwich for a single second.

As I now sit and reflect, I can forgive him. (How gracious of me!) He was desperately hungry and he didn’t realise he was standing a few centimetres from a vegetarian who last ate meat 37 years ago and can’t even remember a time when fish was on her plate.

Early Tuesday morning we arrived at the airport. We had an easy flight on a half-empty plane, where I was able to enjoy the first of my downloads (‘Treadstone’ on Amazon Prime if you’re wondering. I’m so pleased I spent that packing time prioritising my entertainment!)

I spotted this jacket of a man sitting near me on the plane – an exciting job to have!

The tube, the train and the English sea front now all seem like a long way away as I write this in our home for the next three nights: a centrally-located apartment in Helsinki with the added thrill of use of a sauna and laundry room. Luxury and necessity all in the same basement!

So now it’s time to discover this European city…

Everyone loves a reindeer in lights in front of a statue next to a Christmas tree!

Travelling

As long as I have my passport…

Posted on 20th Jan 20202nd Mar 2020 by luce

Our departure is imminent and I am still not packed as my mind is flitting about what to take. Accomodation is only booked for the first six days of our intended three week trip and so it is somewhat of an unknown entity what to include. I seem to be prioritising the entertainment: podcasts, playlists and programmes for when we are in transit rather than the necessities of clothes, so my backpack is still empty. Travelling light has always been a rule in our family – hand luggage only whether it’s a week away in France or a two week tour of the U.S. East coast so whatever doesn’t fit in, stays behind. It is no different this time so it shouldn’t be too difficult to pack.

As I contemplate which items of clothing to take, I find my thoughts wandering back to when we last took time off work to go travelling. Just over twenty years ago (April 1999), we packed up our car and left the hustle and bustle of everyday home/work life to travel around Europe. My husband had taken a six month sabbatical from work and I was on maternity leave.

In our reliable family-sized vehicle, we set off with our two daughters (aged 4 and 2) and our recently born son (just three weeks old). Despite trying all the recommended remedies to encourage an early birth, the baby was overdue and had to be induced, so our planned departure back then was not without an element of uncertainty!

It was an exciting European adventure, which involved a combination of planned destinations as well as spontaneous and impromptu travelling to unknown parts. We covered various countries, including France, Spain, Portugal, Germany and the Czech Republic. There were some nights when we were safely tucked up in a comfortable hotel bed and knew what we were going to be doing the following day and other days when we didn’t know where we were going to sleep or what the next 24 hours had in store for us.

All in all, those six months are etched in our family memories (although I know child 4 will be reading this and feeling left out as she wasn’t born at the time!) and despite people thinking that we were mad travelling with a young child, a toddler and a newborn, it was an amazing experience not to be missed and I would highly recommend it to anyone who is in a position to consider taking time out from their day to day life.

And so now twenty years on, we are off again. In theory, packing should be easier this time; with no young children in tow, my husband and I only need to think of ourselves. Really I need to stop scrolling through the plethora of podcasts and abundance of books to download and instead I need to actually fill my backpack so that I have something to wear on my travels. I know that once we have set off and I remember something I have forgotten, I’ll feel a momentary annoyance, but this will soon pass because as long as I have my passport, I’ll be fine.