Travel – When Life Gives You Lemons

La Dolce Vita

Our recent trip to Northern Italy has left my head positively fizzing with the beauty of its art and architecture.

We had planned the break as an opportunity to meet up with very dear friends who live in Germany. We were twice blessed: with an amazing location and great companions to share it with.

Tempting though it is to make this a postcard account of a short but very full stay, I’d like to veer from the Tripadvisor mode and focus a little more on some of the less obvious aspects and the longer lasting impacts of such a adventure.

With our usual good luck, we were to arrive in Venice on the day of a nationwide transport strike, which meant we could get to Venice airport but not the city nor our planned destination of Padua. Hmm. We were not to be deterred and my husband sorted a hotel in Venice and a vaporetto to get us there. Costly, but worth it.

The floating world

We sped into Venice, James Bond style, the boat barely skimming the water as it jetted along. With the sun setting on the lagoon, the city looked especially ethereal, rising dimly out of the sea on fragile foundations.

It was indeed a floating world – both in the literal and metaphorical sense. Venice is held barely above the water and floods often. Even if one has never visited the city, it floats in our imaginations as a dreamscape of mystery and beauty.

Yet, it also matches the Japanese idea of ‘the floating world’. Originally, it was a Buddhist concept of life as difficult and transitory, yet the meaning was inverted during the Edo period to mean the passing pleasures of the hedonist: beautiful women and the entertainment wealth could purchase.

**The city upon the sea**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

For those of us fortunate enough to be able to afford such travel, Venice is a pleasure ground of magnificent architecture and art; designer shopping and elegant concerts. For those working in Venice, it is perhaps a different story. Whilst the grandeur of its buildings boasts the success of the few, the narrow, dark and sometimes sinister back streets and the ripe smell of the canals come evening, suggests a different story. This dualism was encapsulated by a middle-aged man wheeling the excessive luggage of two Japanese tourists over a steep, stepped bridge. Loui Vuitton meets luggage trolley.

Because grand though it is, Venice is a city of stark contrasts and once you move away from the tourists in St Mark’s Square and into the back streets, the more obvious this becomes. However, these quieter parts were no less beautiful for their simplicity. Every so often, we would come across a barely populated piazza with a few trees and a central well. Washing hung on long lines from the balconies and perhaps a small dog would pass by on its walk.

Awe-inspiring though Venice is, it is still a city of commerce and glaringly demonstrated wealth. It was certainly worth a visit – but one will do.

Vicenza – architectural wonders

Our German friends, Sarah and Michael had driven to Padua to meet us, so we had the advantage of transport. Both my friends and I had been encouraged to visit the nearby town of Vicenza for its ancient architectural beauty and the famous Rotunda.

The town itself is an architect’s dream with wide streets and a large imposing piazza in the centre. It is also home to the first indoor theatre – Teatro Olimpico. Renaissance frescoes and vaulted covered walkways aside, it is a thriving, modern industrial centre. Tourists from abroad are few and I suspect that they like it that way. When we went for a coffee, the waiter spoke no English and my very limited Duolingo Italian finally felt worth the effort.

**La Rotunda built in 1565** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The main draw of Vincenza is its buildings and it is the show case of the influential architect, Palladio. From his name is drawn Palladian – that symmetrical, open design which harks back to that of classical Rome and Greece. His style reached its height of popularity in the 18th century, two centuries after he designed the Rotunda, and is still relevant today.

Chioggia – The working man’s Venice

Taking advantage of the fine weather, our friends took us to Chioggia the following day. Like Venice, it is filled with canals and surrounded by the lagoon, but unlike Venice, it is quiet and unhurried. We arrived on a Monday, so many of the shops were closed and the cafes, bustling with locals from noon until two pm, suddenly emptied and closed. Dawdling as we were, we were fortunate to be given a table at 2.05! The kind waitress took pity on us and delayed the end of her shift until we were fed.

Chioggia is a port and fishing town with a small stretch of beach that attracts summer visitors. It is modest but pleasing with houses hugging the sides of canals and peaceful streets with flower-filled window boxes. My favourite place there was a tiny 14th century church. It was only one room and sparsely decorated, but it echoed with the prayers of centuries.

Padua – city of learning and pilgrimage

Our base was the magnificent city of Padua – home to the second oldest university in Italy and to innumerable awe inspiring churches including the Basilica di San Antonio.

It is a place of learning and is filled with young people who throng the streets going to lectures or perhaps taking an espresso and catching up with friends. When we were there, it was clearly graduation day and students, accompanied by proud parents and friends, wandered about wearing the laurel crown of the graduate.

**The central piazza**
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Padua is famous for its medical department and its scientific roots go back centuries. Copernicus was a student and Galileo a professor! It served as a catalyst for Renaissance thinking.

With science and medicine having such a strong presence, it is no wonder that the study of the natural world and especially its healing properties was of utmost importance. To further the aim of educating students, they built an exquisite apothecary garden.

The botanical gardens are still flourishing today and are a source of scientific study. While the core of the garden houses medicinal plants, more exotic species have been added since. It provides a welcome retreat from a busy world.

The medical museum in Padua is a wonder also. I only wish that I could have been taught the sciences in such an entertaining and interesting way.

Much of our stay was spent mooching about the gorgeous streets and stopping for coffee. But we devoted a fair amount of time visiting the innumerable stunning churches in the city. All were impressive, but only a few attended by more than half a dozen congregants.

Even the most famous church, The Basilica di San Antonio, was only moderately busy – but unlike other ‘tourist destination’ churches, this was peopled by nuns, pilgrims and those who came to pray. It was exquisitely beautiful with high vaulted ceilings, domes, elegant frescoes, marble marquetry and stonework. It was designed to be awe-inspiring, and it was. I loved the domed ceilings in deep blue scattered with stars, the trompe l’oeil marble scene behind the tomb of Saint Antony, the courtyard gardens outside the main building.

When I gazed at the craftmanship, I though of the hours or even years required to achieve the effects. I thought of the craftsmen toiling day after day in service to something greater than themselves. I thought of the thousands of people who came here looking for solace or hope or acceptance and felt that I was part of a very long chain of humanity.

And I felt that time had come full circle. Pilgrimage was the first form of tourism. Holiday comes from holy day and our leisure and spiritual practice are strangely combined. Whilst fewer of us believe in any formal or traditional way now, it does not mean that we don’t gain from our journeys.

We can be uplifted by a mountain or an exquisite work of art; we can connect with those who came before us and left us such treasures; we can learn so much about ourselves and the world.

My Italian trip has cemented my desire to do more creatively – to do it seriously and with commitment. Travel can be transformative if we allow it to be.

Or it can just be light and fun. Seeing friends and breaking bread (or eating pizza together) is also great. However you find your dolce vita – enjoy.

**Me, Lorenzo the waiter and Sarah at the best pizza place in town!**
Image: Michael Meier

Just Say YES!

After the gradual return to normal life this March, my husband and I made a decision. From henceforth, we would say ‘yes’ to anything that came our way that was not completely reckless. Though we had a very peaceful and mainly enjoyable lock-down, it had meant missing any number of reunions and events. We did not regret the time we spent in the garden, practising Wim Hof and swimming in the sea, but it was time to re-join the world and see what it had to offer.

**A word that evokes joy!** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Escape

The first thing we did was escape to the Highlands we love. The trip required no flights or public transport and would involve spending most of our time outside. It was a perfect way to introduce ourselves to what felt a little bit of a scary world.

I have already written about our Scottish trip, but what made this one different was that we were always willing to go off the beaten track and explore. If there were an interesting tourist sign or intriguing alternative route home, we would take it.

We were rewarded by any number of stunning vistas and fascinating monuments all to ourselves. On spotting the sign to the bell tower (below) we headed off down a very narrow and wiggly path to apparently nowhere. When we reached the destination, we found it was many, many steps above us.

I said, ‘Yes!’ to the steps and ascended – aching legs be damned! The tiny building was adorable and the view breath-taking. Since, of course, we were the only ones daft enough to visit, we were free to explore inside and, with the curiosity of children, we did.

Our trip was filled with such diversions and all the more enjoyable for it. On our return, flush with fresh air and good health, we made a rather more momentous decision. We decided that we were in the fortunate position where we could offer sanctuary to a Ukrainian refugee.

A path filled with obstacles

What started with enthusiasm, soon became fraught with frustration and anxiety. As we had the space, we had offered our home to a mother and son who were friends with a young woman in Eastbourne. So far, so perfect. Sadly, what we had not figured in to our plans was the chronic incompetence of the Home Office.

We did our homework, attended events, cleared wardrobes and cupboards and tried to make our home as welcoming as possible. Then we waited for the visas, and waited, and waited. After about eight weeks had passed and only the son had been granted his, we became desperate. They had already moved out of Kiev at this time and back as things normalised. Then Kiev was bombed. Having a face in mind when you hear terrible news is a very different experience to learning of the anonymous casualties of violence. This felt personal.

Despite going through all the help channels and being assured their case was being expedited, nothing happened. We contacted our MP’s office; nothing. By three months, we were simply angry. We wrote to our MP again, this time with positive results.

Unfortunately, the endless delays and the natural reluctance of the family to leave their home meant that they ultimately decided to stay in Ukraine. We held their place until their visas expired – just in case – then we started all over again.

This time everything went super smoothly and Mariia will join us on Sunday. Armed with a little more knowledge and having the pleasure of Skyping frequently with her, we are really looking forward to her arrival. Taking in guests, no matter how lovely, is never without its challenges. But I’m still very glad we said yes to helping someone in such circumstances. I certainly hope someone would do the same for my children should the need arise.

**Our Ukrainian guest arrives on Sunday** Image: Daniele Franchi on Unsplash

The best yes

Without a doubt, the most wonderful yes I made this year was to attend the prize giving at Chatsworth House. As with many brilliant experiences, it held its fair share of terror (publicly reading my story) and uncertainty (I had not the faintest clue what the day held). By agreeing to attend, there was much to be arranged at short notice and not inconsiderable costs incurred. But all good things come with a price tag: even if that is only courage.

**Magnificent Chatsworth House** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The joy of spontaneity

Spontaneous is not a word that I would generally use to describe myself. Up until now, I was an inveterate planner. Every eventuality had to be accounted for before I set forth. My health situation only amplified this. What if? What if? What if? rotated in my mind until the thought of doing anything became terrifying. Anxiety took hold like a boa constrictor reducing my world to ever diminishing circles.

Then we took small trips on short notice and I survived. Our trips got longer and I became bolder. It helps that we live in one of the most accommodating places on earth. Need a drink? Which cafe should I choose? Need petrol? One is seldom more than thirty miles from a service station. Need a rest? Pick a bench. Really, what was I worrying about?

So when our friends asked us to their 60th birthday bash in the Cotswolds, we said, ‘Why not?’ The party was a great success and it was a joy to meet their now grown-up children. The village where we stayed the night was magical and turned an overnight trip into a holiday. When the same friends called on Bank Holiday Monday to say that they had been offered a flat on Hove seafront and would we like to join them on the beach, you know how we answered.

Because saying ‘Yes’ has enriched our lives in more ways than I can possibly describe in a blog. It is not without risk. Sometimes things will go seriously awry. This same weekend, we saw an absolutely perfect bungalow that would future proof our home-life. We spent almost five days in exhaustive cleaning, DIY and tidying only to find the seller had withdrawn her house from the market on the day we had the agent come to see ours. Am I sorry we pursued it? No!

I realise now that I had lapsed into my trying to pre-empt problems. I don’t need to move into a bungalow yet, and may never need to. So I am just enjoying my newly pristine home. Oh, and Mariia will be fooled into thinking that she has arrived at a very tidy household.

Micro-cation

Sometimes you just have to get away. It doesn’t need to be for long and it doesn’t have to be far. Sometimes what is needed is a micro-cation, a mini vacation of just a day or two that is far enough from home to have the novelty of the unfamiliar, but close enough that the journey is no problem at all.

After a very tense few weeks and the disappointment of my son being unable to travel due to health issues, we needed a break. We took it in the nearby town of Battle at a hotel we love. It enabled us to recharge our spirits and soothe our over-stretched nerves. Our son is now well on the way to recovery and plans to reschedule his trip. I’m hoping to take him to Battle when he does. It’s perfect.

**The High Street from above** Image: Tourist information

National treasures

We are so blessed in the UK with an endless supply of picturesque villages and towns. So much so that it seems almost perverse to look for interesting places abroad when there is so much on our very doorsteps. With the pandemic making travel at best difficult and at worst impossible, now is a good time to explore those treasures that are closer to home.

The town of Battle boasts not only a charming high street filled with independent shops, but a significant historic building in the form of Battle Abbey – built on the site of the somewhat mis-named Battle of Hastings. It makes an imposing focal point to the High Street and I thought of how this place had changed the course of British history forever.

**Battle Abbey under a brooding sky** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Hidden history

Since we had visited the Abbey grounds before, we decided to walk instead around the perimeter and explore the less obvious part of Battle. We were not disappointed. Tucked behind this magnificent building was a narrow street crammed with old houses replete with history; the beginning of the 1066 walk and a perfect Norman church built to serve the Benedictine Abbey opposite in 1115. Were I not coming to the end of my energies, I would have ventured inside. It boasts some wonderful interior features that I am determined to enjoy on my next visit. Exploring new places is like peeling an onion. No sooner have you discovered one layer of interest than another presents itself.

**St Mary the Virgin**
Images: Karen Costello-McFeat

Going at a walking pace (me on the scooter) we were able to really enjoy our surroundings: the quirky door knockers; the giant trees in the churchyard; the little plaques commemorating significant residents. My favourite was of the Abbot who had been moved from the Abbey to a tiny cottage after Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monastery. I wondered how he had coped with such an enormous change of fortunes.

Travelling the road was like passing through time, with the buildings nodding to every period from the medieval to modern. Steps from the ancient church was a tiny, vintage petrol station nestled discretely just off the pavement. What would the returning crusader knights, who blunted their swords on the walls of the chapel in the church, think of our shiny, motorised steeds?

Powder Mills

After a thorough reconnoitre of the town, a delicious pub lunch and a trip to the local craft shop, we were ready to head to our home for the evening. We had stayed at this hotel some years ago and were determined to return.

**One of the beautiful additions clad in Virginia creeper** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

It is a wonderful, country house hotel – a little faded at the edges, a little shabby even in parts, but rich in charm. The original building was an old gun powder mill which detonated itself numerous times (occupational hazard) until it was eventually converted into a hotel. Over the years, additions were added yet somehow always entirely in keeping with the elegant Georgian original.

Delightful as the hotel is, the real enchantment lies in the location. It is set in literally acres of woodland, lakes and fields. Wellington boots are available for guests to use to explore these, often muddy, surroundings. We followed a little trail that wound into the trees and discovered an abundance of sweet chestnuts amongst the leaf litter, which we stuffed into our pockets. The path took us past the water drop that powered the old mill and on to where the trail opened out to a magnificent lake. Set against the brilliant blue sky of late autumn and the woodland palette of ochre, rust, amber and muted greens, it made a breath taking vista.

**The lake in autumn finery** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

A change of scene

They say that a change is as good as a rest and certainly in our case it proved true. Though we were away for little more than twenty-four hours, we crammed our days with exploration, delicious meals and the pleasure of outdoors. We met dozens of friendly folks with whom we exchanged plans and pleasantries.

Though autumn may not be the most obvious season for travel, it has its own allure. With prices more affordable and places less crowded, it more than makes up for the lower temperatures. And you do not have to stay for long. A micro-cation of a day or maybe two is enough to immerse yourself somewhere relatively local but engagingly new. Our brief visit has only whet our appetite for more. I’m sure it will be magical at Christmas…

Wish You Were Here…

Postcards have rather gone out of fashion. When I was younger, no holiday was complete without the obligatory buying, writing and sending of postcards. It was a wonderful opportunity to give a taste of your vacation. Now we tend to send a WhatsApp or Instagram message. More pictures, fewer words and although these are always welcome, I miss the joy of a postcard clattering through the letter box; the professional shot of the location and the quirky stamps.

With our busy lives, I think it is a great time to reinstate the postcard. They only take moments to write, yet have a similar impact to a letter. They are colourful and pretty and make great temporary decorations to mantlepieces and fridges. An image, a few words and a stamp are all you need to show someone that you are thinking of them, and wishing they could join you.

Paperback writer

This one has been taken from the excellent volume, Playing with Books by Jason Thompson. Most of my books end up in the charity box, but occasionally, I keep them for the papers inside to use in craft projects. To make them into postcards, simply remove the front cover (or interior one) and cut so as to contain a complete image about postcard size. Curve the edges if you wish. If possible, find titles or images that relate to the recipient.

**From cover to card** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Art for art’s sake

Art cards can be a wonderful way of remembering a special exhibition – a pictorial souvenir. They are also perfect for short messages to a friend – matching their artistic taste with the card. For a cheap but elegant greeting card, glue the postcard onto card stock.

**These are keepers!** A wonderful exhibition of Henry La Thangue at my local gallery; a visit to Macau and a poetry/art collaboration

Zen postcards

Few activities are better at stilling the mind than a bit of colouring. No longer the preserve of five-year-olds, colouring is now for grown-ups. Intricate designs and beautiful illustrations are available as colouring-in postcards. I particularly love Johanna Basford’s whimsical designs.

These cards take some time to complete, but the act of colouring is itself a mindful, stress reducing exercise. Since you also get a gorgeous card to send, this is a win-win. One friend, who is particularly adept at these, uses the cards for birthdays and thank yous. I have several adorning my kitchen.

**An enchanting activity** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Miniature watercolours

For those wanting to go a step further and to create their own works of art, watercolour postcards are available at the National Trust shops and other art outlets. I love that this gives you the opportunity to play artistically and to send the result rather than having it languish in a sketch book. As it’s only a small postcard, if it all goes wrong, little is lost. If it goes well, you have a little piece of original art to send.

Whilst drying my poppy heads, I noticed they had a perfect flower shape on the top. What better stamp could I find? I added a wash of colour for the background and then stamped away. I hope you like the result.

**Floral recycling!** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

The traditional

The pandemic has rather curbed our travels, but many of us are exploring our own countries and those close by instead. Sending a card from your destination allows us to do a little virtual travelling and to discover what is on offer. If you do manage to move beyond your borders, share the adventure.

**New places to explore** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

And after the postcard has been read? Like all cards they can be displayed for as long as you wish or kept as bookmarks or perhaps you can find a more exciting use for them. If you do, get in touch. Answers on a postcard, please!

Journeys of Discovery – 2

In the last post, I looked at the why of travel and in this one, I’d like to look at the how. When you are disabled, journeys take on a whole new character. Spontaneity is definitely out. Every journey needs to be planned with the attention to detail normally reserved for a space launch. Though not everywhere will be accessible, there is more than enough that is. The trick lies in being prepared.

God bless the National Health Service

My cancer is in remission and my MS behaving very well at the moment, but I am aware that either of these may change. Travelling within the UK means that there is always a hospital nearby should things go awry and a doctor who will understand my problems (and who I will understand).

Medical help when you need it. Image: Photo by Online Marketing on Unsplash

Knowing this means that I travel without the added anxiety of ‘What if things go wrong?’ If they do, I shall be treated with the same standard of care I would receive in my home town. This is not to say I shall never travel abroad, but travelling within the UK is certainly less stressful.

Medications

By following the OMS programme, I have had the good fortune to not need any medications, though most folks with MS do. Many of those drugs require refrigeration and this must be factored into accommodation requirements.

One of the many complications of a chronic condition is that even minor ailments can escalate rapidly. MS makes it more likely that you will suffer from urinary tract infections and to add insult to injury, these (and many other infections) may prompt a ‘pseudo’ relapse. Though you should recover fully once the infection has been overcome, longer term damage may occur. As a consequence, I always take a course of antibiotics with me to avoid any risk. My GP was more than happy to oblige me in this – and I’m sure yours will be too!

Ensure you have sufficient medications and supplements for your stay Image: Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

Mobility

Without question, the most infuriating aspect of my condition is the inability to walk any distance. I’m blessed with the strength to toddle about for a while, but soon my legs will start to feel painful, then stiff, my left foot will drag and then refuse to work at all. How long or how little I can manage varies considerably and I need to be prepared for the worst.

There are numerous mobility aids on the market to help, but like medicines, they come with their own side-effects. Each of these can be minimised with a little research and testing.

Walking Sticks

Most of us will need a stick at some point when placed in unknown surroundings and for many, this is all they will need. Keeping a fold-up one with you is a sure way to avoid the horror of discovering that the parking (even disabled bays) are further from your destination than you thought!

When I was first given a stick, it was an old-fashioned wooden one. The physio checked it was the correct height, but it was not the correct style for me. My hands and wrists soon began to tire and ache. Some kind soul mentioned that I should get an ergonomic one with a wide handle. Though not so common, they are easy to find. Just make sure that you get the correct one if you are left handed!

Wheelchairs

I have a wheelchair, but it is not something that I use very often. Unfortunately, the lighter, travel ones do not fare well on uneven surfaces and I keep mine for airports and museums. Nor do I like the fact that, since I do not have the strength to propel myself, I require someone to push me. I can’t say that I enjoy the loss of independence this entails, but it has enabled me to see some fabulous exhibitions in comfort.

Mobility scooters

My absolute favourite aid is my mobility scooter. Do I feel self-conscious tootling about like someone twice my age? Yes, is the honest answer. Would I rather stay at home? No.

I found an off-road one that would happily carry me around the paths of any National Trust property. This is a bit of a cumbersome beast, however, so we need to take the car to transport it and my husband needs to be with me to lift it in and out and assemble it.

Finding what is right for you is crucial. The internet is the perfect place to start to find out what is available and then I’d recommend going to a large showroom where you can try things out.

If budgeting is an issue, there are always second-hand options available. Your local MS group would be the best place to start a search for reputable providers.

The advances in mobility aids are staggering. A friend of mine has a wheelchair that can go up and down steps, on the beach and well, wherever. The price tag is rather beyond my budget, but it is good to know these things exist should my Premium Bonds come through.

https://youtu.be/0vIn43FOfN0

The future is bright!

Exhaustion

Exhaustion in MS is an invisible disability and for me has been the most bothersome. There is not much you can do when you can’t wake up.

Following the OMS life-style has helped minimise this, but I do need to figure in rest days and naps to keep me going. Sometimes the excitement of travel means I go far longer than usual without additional sleep – but when I get home, I need to clear the diary and sink into oblivion.

And an invisible disability is a disability all the same. Though few people will understand, it is vital that we express our needs without fuss or complaint. It is easy to be bullied into doing more than we are able and suffering the consequences of hours or even days in a fog of exhaustion.

Toilet stops

The joy of the UK is that there are always service stations, cafes or public toilets nearby. Yes, MS affects most people this way too! So, we factor in very regular stops. An added benefit is that it enables us to stretch legs and reduce the stiffness that accompanies sitting for long periods. It means that journeys take a little longer, but they are certainly more enjoyable.

Heat

Someone very wittily remarked that heat to an MS sufferer is like Kryptonite to Superman. When I was first diagnosed with MS, heat didn’t seem to affect me at all and I enjoyed hot baths and showers and sitting in the sun. Not any more.

An MS sufferer’s worst nightmare – blazing sun and no shade. Image: Photo by Keith Hardy on Unsplash

My intolerance to heat is now so marked that I actually take a cold shower after my hot one, because I came to the realisation that it was the heat exhaustion prompted by my morning shower that left me having to lie down less than an hour after I had got up.

Choosing destinations for holidays is therefore extremely important. You are unlikely to enjoy a trip to Southern Spain mid August burrowed in the dark of your hotel room. The up-side is that travelling off-peak is ideal and holidays in the UK perfect.

Accessibility

Check and check again! There have been a number of times that I have visited locations that claim to be accessible and find they are not or that only certain paths and the cafe are!

Access all area! Image: Photo by Yomex Owo on Unsplash

The UK is generally very good at being genuinely disabled friendly and most places will make real efforts to allow you as much access as feasible. Just don’t be afraid to ask. Portable ramps are often kept out of view, but they do exist and guides are really good at telling you what is accessible and where there are places to rest. I have never been treated with anything but kindness.

Some places go even further – providing regular and off-road wheelchairs, scooters and guided buggy tours. These resources are limited though, so always check/book before you leave home!

Modes of Transport

I confess that I rely almost entirely on the car for my transport in the UK. Although I know that systems are in place on trains and buses for the mobility-limited, they just don’t work for me. To reach almost anywhere, I need to negotiate London and the mere thought gives me palpitations. I shall try to be more brave!

The Grand Tour

Travelling with a disability sometimes makes me feel like an English gentleman on a grand tour. The car is packed with mobility aids, suitable clothing for all temperatures, emergency food supplies and supplements. I require a driver, helper and companion (roles my husband fulfils admirably!) Thus equipped, I am ready to go anywhere. This country contains far more wonders than I could possibly visit in one life time and the natives are definitely friendly.

Journeys of Discovery – 1

I have had the good fortune to travel quite extensively throughout my life and each journey has been a voyage of discovery. As my children grew up, I looked forward to further trips with just my husband. I anticipated rather more civilised and cultured affairs than the slightly hair- raising exploits we tended to have with my two, very active boys. Sadly, life had other plans and with my diagnosis, I believed my days of adventure were over.

For a long time, Alexander Graham Bell’s quote was true for me.

“When one door closes, another door opens, but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.”
– Alexander Graham Bell –

For ages, I kicked against the closed door, bewailing my fate. Eventually, I began to tire of my self-pity and began to look forward and not back. First, I had been utterly blessed to see all that I had. Gratitude is a great antidote to despair! Second, what was travel anyway? We spend so long asking each other where we are going and where we have been that we miss the most crucial question of why?

If we ask ourselves that question, it may prompt us to discover far more enriching and exciting journeys of discovery than two weeks at the beach – no matter how exotic the location. For me, journeys give the best opportunity to gain insights into other ways of living. They can be catalysts of change; an opportunity to adopt the best practice of others. Or they may simply give us the chance to see natural wonders that remind us of the beauty of the Earth and our responsibility to cherish it. The world is our classroom, should we wish to pay attention.

So what did I learn from a recent visit to the Scottish Highlands for the New Year?

The best things in life really are free

From where I live to the Highlands is an epic fourteen hour drive, so planned stops were needed. Our first was to one of my oldest friends, who lives in Leeds, and who kindly offered her hospitality.

There are few things more delightful than dinner with old friends, catching up on news and relaxing after a long day. We brought gifts, of course, but the evening was essentially without cost and of priceless value. Our added bonus was enjoying their knowledge of the surrounding countryside and a visit to Malham Cove – a geological wonder in the Yorkshire Dales.

Malham Cove – a crescent shaped inland cliff Image: Wikipedia

This glorious spot was more or less accessible with my scooter and I thoroughly enjoyed the majesty of this weird anomaly of an inland cliff. The UK is never short of surprises.

Collective action and perseverance can achieve the seemingly impossible

Our next stop was Stirling and since we’d missed the castle on our last trip, we decided to rectify it now. It is a magnificent building full of intricately decorated halls and impressive battlements, but what made the visit for me was seeing the newly completed reproductions of the Unicorn Tapestries which had been commissioned to adorn the walls of the Queen’s inner hall.

The Unicorn in Captivity. The seventh and final tapestry in the series. Image: Google images

These tapestries had taken fifteen years and a large number of weavers to produce. I cannot imagine the stamina of those artisans who laboured every day to produce at best inches of tapestry. (One of the guides said he would look in on their work and after eight hours wonder if they had done anything at all.) We are so used to instant everything that we forget how much time, determination and skill is required to make something that is truly awe-inspiring. Together, those weavers worked to create objects of incredible beauty from something as simple as coloured threads.

Nature provides her own gallery

But no matter how awe-inspiring the art of human hands, it always pales in comparison to the master. We reached the Highlands at last and they were breathtaking.

Being out in nature always lifts my spirits; being out in the wilderness makes my heart soar. Discovering that our hotel looked out on some of the many woodland walks around Grantown on Spey was a much appreciated late Christmas present.

A walk (or scooter) in the woods. Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Community is forged in adversity

Beautiful though this landscape is, it is also brutal. Whilst we may have loved meandering through woodland, picking fallen moss and pine cones; the inhabitants of this region would have had to battle the vagaries of the weather, the intractability of trees and inhospitable nature of mountainsides to farming. This is a region that has known hunger and hardship.

What these struggles have produced, though, is a community full of resilience, immense generosity and kindness. Those who formulated the myth that the Scots are mean, I suspect never crossed the border!

In a world where people still depend on one another, community is not just a trendy catch-phrase but a way of living. Though the village was tiny, there was plenty going on and we never passed anyone without at friendly hello and perhaps a wee chat. Strangers though we were, we were welcomed by everyone.

Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) is celebrated throughout Scotland with great vigour and our village was no exception. Towards midnight we went to the main square – already heaving with people of all ages, some dancing near the stage with the the folk band.

We were treated to an amazing firework display before heading back to our hotel for the piper accompanied by two young Highland dancers. Wired with excitement, and needing to recover from the cold, we took advantage of the ‘wee drams’ on offer with other treats also. All of these were provided by the hotel at no extra charge even though our stay was hardly expensive.

Our history shapes us and speaks to us

There is not space to write about all the historical sites we visited, but they included more castles, battlegrounds, ancient standing stones and my favourite: the Clava Cairns of Outlander fame. Though I grew up very close to Stonehenge and an array of pre-historic settlements throughout Wiltshire, this Bronze age site excelled them all. There were no fences and no visitor’s centre, which meant that, a few selfie-taking tourists aside, we were able to fully absorb their magical beauty in this quiet enchanted grove of ancient trees.

The mystical Clava Cairns. Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

They demonstrated to us that our ancestors were brilliant engineers who were able to orientate the openings of the cairns to align with the sun at the winter solstice. Whatever we build today is merely an extension of the ingenuity of our forefathers.

They were a spiritual place too. Having been used as a place of worship for centuries, if you stood quietly, you could feel those heart-felt prayers of long ago: for a peaceful afterlife, a good harvest, love and health. For that moment at least, we did time travel to stand with those who lived before us.

So, let us think why we travel where we do and how it can enrich our lives. We do not need to travel far, but we do need to travel deeply. If we do this, each journey will bring discoveries that we can apply to our everyday lives. If we travel thoughtfully, both our communities and the planet will thank us.