It must be 15 years since I last went to the Circus and my memories of that time is of a brightly coloured ‘Big Top’ with rain leaking everywhere and the wind blowing under the bottom flaps.  The smell of animal poo and the worn out, washed out and tattered costumes of the artistes remain firmly in my mind.  And Clowns, well least said about them…

Last week I saw the posters ‘Moscow State Circus at the Mayflower Park in Southampton’.  I was so excited!  The Circe de Soleil and the Moscow State Circus were the two circuses I’d always wanted to see.

We got a great deal online and booked the best available seats in the house for the Saturday evening show at 19.45.  The performance was called ‘Babushkin Sekret’.  Not only was this a circus, it was a theatrical performance – a traditional circus with a story to tell – the legend of the twelve chairs. I was hooked.

Inside the chapiteau big top it was dry, heated and black, completely enveloping the audience and performers in a world of our own.  The seating was a little cramped, more suited to the slender and lithe frames of the Russians than the candyfloss, popcorn and beer consumers of  Southampton.

“The show will begin in two minutes.  Please refrain from using video and flash photography.”

I checked the camera and ensured the flash was switched off and settled down for the performance.  Male and female performers arrived in the ring wearing modern and interesting costumes and each of them wore a broad smile.  The show was slick and well rehearsed.  The ariel acrobatics were varied and interesting and the story of the Babushkin Sekret slowly unfolded.  Jugglers put on a tremendous spectacle and as for the skipping routine  - I was gobsmacked!

During the interval, I used the toilet facilities and would rate them as the plushest mobile loos I have ever visited.

Straight away, the high wire act began. The highlight of my night.  Even the clowns (which I used to be afraid of) were quite funny, and only appeared as a distraction when equipment was being changed and I suppose to give the performers a chance to catch their breath and change costume.  A word of warning, there was some audience participation, so DO NOT sit on the front row if you’re shy.

Finally the Babushkin Sekret was revealed, but of course I can’t tell you what it is.  You will have to go to the show and find out for yourself.

It’s been a while since I posted and a lot has happened.

I live in a house with a garden, thriving vegetables growing in the garden and a job as a QA within the marine industry at www.survitecgroup.com.

Living ashore has been fantastic and I tread on the earth with such care and understanding now.  Every morning I listen to the birds and over the winter I fed and watered my little menagerie of garden birds.  ’Rua’ the name I’ve given to the fattest Robin in England gets bolder by the day and will soon be coming into the house for food!

The Camelia has been in flower since November as conditions have been so mild and the wisteria is beginning to burst into leaf.

I’ve been to Donegal twice, once by plane and more recently in our new car by road and Ferry.  We drove through Snowdonia National Park where I saw snow for the first time in 2 years.

And why have I called this post ‘Everything is Possible…’?  Well yesterday, I was driving behind a van which was advertising something or other and it had this strap line which said ‘Nothing is Impossible’.  It suddenly made me think of an advert I’d seen and heard years ago –  ’Disney World, where everything is possible’. Well essentially they mean the same thing, though you all know which one is the most successful!  So next time you hear someone say ‘Not bad’ when they mean good, be aware and aim to choose words with positive meaning.  You will soon notice that the happy people choose positive words.

‘I want to learn’ is better than ‘I don’t know’ and remember, everything is possible.

Published in Guardian.co.uk today

http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2011/nov/21/best-lapland-arctic-circle-trips

Walking on Svartisen glacier
Visit Svartisen glacier from Holandsfjord to an arm called Engabreen, which appears to reach down and tickle the fjord with its icy fingers. The magical blue ice draws you nearer but the screeching and groaning remind you of the hidden dangers. Ice caves and deep fissures abound, so book a guide if you wish to explore. They’ll equip you with rope, ice picks and crampons for your unforgettable hike. The walk lasts about five hours and should be booked in advance.
visitnorway.com
FarawayVisions

Priors Hill Copse

Thursday morning the 3^rd of November dawned at last.  After breakfast, we gathered up most of our things and loaded the dinghy to absolute capacity. Dan rowed and I sang Row, Row, Row the Boat.  The van was already stacked high with our sofa and filled with furniture we’d acquired on www.freecycle.org . The first load was unloaded at the house, but we had to put everything in the living room as the landlord wasn’t quite ready for us.  Next we went over to the container in Portchester and loaded all Dan’s things.  We visited the container 3 times to empty it.  I reached for my torch and made a sweep to check everything was clear before Dan closed the door for the last time.

As we drove the last load to the house, I suggested we eat a bag of chips and eat them in the van.  It was almost 7pm and the landlord was still finding little bits and pieces to do and I was bloody starving and getting crankier by the minute.  The chips were bought and eaten and the last load unpacked. I watched Dan’s face light up as he brought box after box filled with his favourite possessions into the house.

“You’ve a lot of boxes! And books!” I griped as my face reddened from the strain of lifting.

“I know, I’ve a lot of sorting out to do.”

A bottle of Rioja was opened and a shower enjoyed before we fell into bed exhausted. We’d made the move from ship to shore and another chapter began.

An invitation to attend a family fireworks display was posted through the door (how kind).

The weekend was spent finding places for things, putting up pictures and washing clothes and crockery.  I received a call on Friday inviting me to a job interview and had to get something new to wear.  A shopping adventure – in Southampton!

Of course the garden was seen to next.  Dan tended to the compost heap ‘activating’ it every time he had a full bladder and dug up the vegetable patch.  I planted some winter salad vegetables which are already over an inch tall, and some thyme. Dan planted the mushrooms, actually, he watered some bits of straw which live in the hot press and will add the spores tomorrow I think. He planted some shallots in the vegetable patch and enough garlic to ward off the world’s vampire population!  The garden promises great things, with its huge pink flowering Camelia at the front and a climbing rose.  There’s a wisteria at the back door (I can’t help but think of  ’Wisteria Lane’ everytime I see it) and a rose arch which produces creamy white flowers.  The vine over the pergola is huge and we may have grapes next year. There’s a clematis and Jasmine and maybe the fig tree will sprout back to life.  I re-potted the Hydrangea with ericaceous compost in the hope the blossoms will be blue and will remind us of the Azores. I was even thinking of writing to the council about an allotment.  I’m kidding.

We had many delicious meals, baths galore, an open fire and generally savoured in the pleasure of our new home. Dressed in my new suit, I attended the mother of all interviews – 3 hours in duration !

Prior’s Hill Copse is at the back of the house and we took the opportunity to have a walk in the woods on Sunday.  The colours were magnificent.  The low November sunlight cast long shadows on the copper, orange and russet leaves which covered the path like a carpet which we kicked and rustled as we shuffled along.

Our second weekend was glorious, with wifi installed and new books to read. The house and garden at last felt like home and the ‘sorting out’… Well, I think that’s going to take Dan a while…

Life on the River Hamble – The Strawberry Coast

River Hamble

Since we arrived in Hamble, we’ve been living on the river, save for our wonderful three weeks at the house sitting assignment.  Tomorrow, we are moving ashore to live in a HOUSE!

This morning, after rowing Dan ashore, I began my morning meditation and felt amazing.  I peered out the coach house window towards the eastern shore and realised I would miss my river house the SY She of Feock.  The mornings are peaceful, the birdlife so diverse and the sunrises different each day.  Oyster Catchers meet to crack open their freshly caught mussels and sing their high pitched call before the sun peeks over the hill.  The shore line is constantly changing with a double high tide and the low tide brings masses of wading birds to the river’s edge to feed.

We’ve been at four locations on the River Hamble and this is my favourite.  The boat has become my ‘hide’ in the middle of the river from where I watch the birds and the human activity on the riverbank.

Walkers, Photographers, Twitchers and lovers amble along the riverbank each day displaying body language that I feel is not meant for my eyes.  Nobody knows I’m there!  It’s like being invisible so I’ll let you in on some of the things I’ve seen.

Families out for a walk with their happy kids dressed in jackets and brightly coloured wellies skipping along merrily behind. Families who do the ‘country walk’ thing and only the ‘Leader’ having a good time. You can spot the ‘Leader’ fairly easily, as he (invariably it’s a He) is usually dressed in full walker’s uniform – sturdy boots, gaiters, walking jacket and the most telling item of all – the rucksack!  And, I can tell you what’s in the rucksack. Soggy sandwiches, apples, bananas, some chocolate treats and a bottle of squash.  The ‘Leader’ chooses the spot where they are allowed to stop and eat the proffered sustenance, then they all march off again towards the beckoning people carrier.  Binoculars! Yes! A fine pair I have indeed!

Lone photographers and groups of photographers laden down with tripods and lenses gather to test the light and capture a magical moment. Some pick their nose when they think nobody is watching and others take a toilet break.

And the sailing – well this is the Mecca of sailing, with nearly 4000 boats on the river, the traffic barely stops.  Racing teams, Olympic competitors and complete novices all vie for sailing space.  Rowing groups and kayakers practice their moves and little me, dodging between them to row the dinghy to the shore with my showering equipment.

I even joined a Bird Forum so I could find out a bit more about the birds of the area, but I’m not a Twitcher, honest, I’m not.  Actually, I believe I am what is known as a Dude (that’s Twitcher vocabulary for a novice bird watcher) and as I’m NOT a Twitcher, I could have seen a Megatick or a Crippler and wouldn’t even know it.

But all that is soon to end, life on the set of Howard’s Way is over and my new view will be of the garden. I shall have straight hair and high heels once again…

Readers’ tips: Caves and underground attractions

Travel guides compiled from the best readers’ tips from ivebeenthere.co.uk

Been there readers delve into Tolkien territory with their recommendations on all things subterranean, from stalagmites at the Skocjan caves in Slovenia to an Austrian ice cavern

Portugal

Furna do Enxofre (sulphur caves), Graciosa

Furna do Enxofre - The entrance

A winding stairway partly cut into a volcanic chimney leads down to a domed volcanic cave where there is a sulphurous lake. It’s best to go between 11am and 2pm as sunlight beams through a shaft and casts light in a spectacular way. Phone before you go as the CO2 levels are closely monitored and the cave closes when they’re dangerous. It’s a bit disconcerting when you’re peering into the boiling mud pool and the alarm sounds!

Bring a torch to explore the darker areas and to admire the numerous stalactites. If you have the energy, you can walk around the edge of the volcano where there are stunning views into the caldeira and explore lava tunnels as you continue to hike.
+351 295 712 124
FarawayVisions

Since I became a ‘most of the time’ Vegetarian, I’ve had to re-invent my cooking repertoire. And I have to say, that eating mostly non-meat means there is hardly any waste. When it’s my turn to cook, I look and see what’s there and voila, as if by magic, dinner is conjured up.

As I’m still house sitting, I found some lovely late summer vegetables in the vegetable garden awaiting consumption and this is what I made for last night’s dinner.

Pasta with Last of the Summer Veg Sauce

Ingredients

A big onion

A few cloves of garlic crushed

cherry tomatoes (about 2 supermarket sized punnets, but if your short, use a can of chopped tomatoes)

a small courgette (pear shaped, not that it matters)

2 handfuls of french beans (at least I think that’s what they were)

A Tablespoon of sugar (helps the medicine go down)

Black pepper

Dried basil (fresh if you have it)

A dash of cider vinegar or wine

Pasta or Rice if you prefer (who cares?)

The abracadbra Bit

Chop the onions into small pieces and cook with the garlic in a saucepan over a gentle heat in some olive oil until soft.

Chop the courgette into bite sized pieces and top and tail the beans.

Add the sugar and stir until caramelised (nice and golden brown). Splash in the cider vinegar or wine (whatever you’ve got)

Add the tomatoes, you need lots as this recipe is only for 2 people.

Add the basil, I used 2 tablespoons of the dried stuff because it needed more when I tried 1 spoonful.  Go with the flow and enjoy tasting.  (Easy on the wine though!)

Next the Black Pepper and this is where you would add salt, though I hardly ever use salt in my cooking.

Bring to a simmer, put the lid on the pot and go and check your Facebook for 15mins.

Cook whatever shape of pasta you like or rice if you prefer.

10 minutes before your pasta/rice/chips are ready, and you’ve had your Facebook fix, add the courgette and the beans.

Put pasta on a warm plate and pour the sauce over.

Serve with crusty bread or even better with garlic bread.

Mmm, Yummy.

Put a photo of your dish on Facebook as I forgot to take a picture.

Since I decided to write, travel and be an intrepid adventurer, my life changed beyond all recognition.  My wardrobe of ‘Classic French Chic’ dresses and mega high heels morphed into one holdall full of thermals, fleeces, hiking boots and of course FLIP-FLOPS.   I discovered life could be so much easier without a hairdryer and the GHDs, but I never ditched the Mascara.  Blonde eyelashes may as well not exist, so I suppose I will forever be a slave to the lash enhancer. And a lady should always have fluttering eyelashes.

I took the de-cluttering thing right to the very limit when I left Ireland in July 2010.  Now I would like to coin a new phrase – re-cluttering.  I want some clutter!

Moving house is supposedly something that causes many to reach for the valium and I am about to do that.  A house that I can call my own, not exactly mine, but it will be my place, it will be my home.  A base from where many new adventures will begin.

Therefore, my desire to re-clutter is somewhat justified.

House Sitting. A job for the adventurous. Perfect for the explorer.

About three weeks ago, I met a wonderful man who offered Dan and I the chance to look after his home after only a brief and totally unrelated conversation. It was an act of trust and kindness beyond belief.

The saying goes that if you expect the best, quite often you get! Well, living on a boat for over a year in cramped spaces and zero privacy is fine when you have things to do, places to see and people to meet. Not exactly ideal when the temperature is falling and getting ashore involves crossing the waterway equivalent of the M25. We’d been house hunting, and I told you a bit about that. Pokey little places called houses, flats suitable for vampires and almost a queue to get something half decent. I scoured the websites for places to rent, but large homes in the country seemed to be about ten times more than the budget. Still, that was what I wanted.

The genie heard my wish and granted it, if only for a short time.

We moved in two weeks ago. When we first saw the house, I almost choked. It was something straight out of ‘Grand Designs’. Two enormous glass walls made up the living pod. The house was built from Oak, flint, brick and roofed with hand made clay tiles.

Of course I had to do something in return for staying in the ‘large house in the country’. Oh yes. Water the bees, feed the fish every other day, keep an eye out for the badgers in the nature reserve, leave the bins out and the hardest part – drink the beer in the summerhouse fridge.

We’ve walked along The South Downs way, watched TV for the first time in over a year, gone to the toilet in private, cooked beautiful food, drank nice wine, had a bath and showered without the need to pack a rucksack and row ashore, stretched out on the sofas and slept in a real bed with a duvet.

So, as I sit here in front of the summer house, basking in the sunshine on a mid-October’s day, I give great thanks. I’m looking across the South Downs, I can see a converted windmill, hear the birds and smell the scent of Rosemary and mint. I’m next to the bee hives watching as they fly about their daily chores.

Soon I will pick up my trug and fetch some fresh courgettes, tomatoes, beans, raspberries, apples and rhubarb from the garden. It’s a tough role, but someone has to do it.

And Dan, what does he do? Well, he makes Vegetarian Surprises when I’m not being the Domestic Goddess!