Donegal by Bike

The River Eske, Donegal Town

A few years back, I met an Irish woman who came from County Donegal, the most northwestern county in Ireland. She told me that Donegal boasts some of the most beautiful beaches and landscapes in the world. She said it is a wonderful place to cycle, with many back roads and a spectacular coastline. But, she warned me, the weather is terrible. Nonetheless, since that time, I've wanted to go cycling in Donegal. 

A few weeks ago, my wish came true. My husband Jeff and I flew to Dublin for a self-guided bike tour around the Donegal peninsula. After arriving in Dublin, we traveled by bus for three hours through the green Irish countryside to Donegal Town. There, we met up with our Seattle friends Tom and Linda McElroy. That afternoon, Seamus from Ireland by Bike (http://irelandbybike.com) came to our bed and breakfast and fitted us to four hybrid bikes. He gave us GPS systems, maps and route notes and the names of each of the Bed and Breakfast Inn he had booked for us. The next morning we rode west along the Irish Sea. Each day the four of us explored the ancient landscape following the route Seamus gave us. We cycled from village to village while Seamus ferried our suitcases. The following poem and pictures describe our wonderful trip. 

Donegal by Bike

Killybegs Harbor

We left the town of Donegal
Biking west along the sea.
In front was Jeff with GPS
Behind Linda, Tom and me.

We cycled round the northwest coast,
Killybegs, then Glencolumbkille,
Through Glenties, Ardara and Annagry,
Fueled by Guinness and cups of tea.

Each day, the hills had steeper pitch

Rain and fog obscured the view.
When woolly sheep got on the road
There’s no room for bicycles too.

The wind blew rain across my specs.

Linda’s legs were smeared with grease.
We cycled on; our spirits strong.
Fuchsia cliffs put us at peace.

The Irish Sea estuary west of Ardara

Glengesh Valley

The morning we left Glencolumbkille
The road rose into the mist
Wet and tired; we crossed the divide
To a valley the gods had kissed.

Waterfalls bubbled down the rocks
The valley walls were gold and green
We coasted past, to our eyes delight,
The prettiest bay we’d ever seen.

We sat on wooden benches
Eating salmon with buttered brown bread.
Bananas, apples and KitKat bars
Kept all of us well fed.

At night, we hit the local pubs
Tom made friends with everyone.
We followed him, an easy task.
Donegal folk are full of fun.

A leprechaun's hidden gold!

Waterfalls everywhere

Last day was up to the top of the world

The long push up Glenveagh Valley

Past Errigal and down to Glenveagh.
We skidded up the boulder track
Pushing heavy bikes half the way.

From the top of Glenveagh Valley
We cruised down to Letterkenny
Through flower and cow-filled pastures
We etched memories aplenty.

What a wonderful way to get to know
The faery lands of green Eireann.
Maybe I’ll return next year
And do it all again.

Needless to say our trip was memorable. The weather did have its moments, blustering winds, morning mists and the occasional rainstorm mixed with threatening clouds and sunny skies! In short, it reminded me of my home in the Pacific Northwest. I am proud to say that my persistent exercising gave me the ability to cycle Donegal's rugged terrain. I am equally proud that my husband and our friends Tom and Linda were capable also. How much fun it is to have the fitness for such a trip at any time in life, but especially when the four of us are in our sixties and seventies. In truth, we've all been diligent about exercising on a regular basis as we've aged. In my case that has meant five years of regular circuit training, often 4 to 5 times a week combined with endless walks, hikes and bike rides. I think the secret to being physically capable as you age is to keep moving and throw a little weight training in there too. If you exercise on a regular basis, the rewards can be great. Not only was I able to cycle this glorious trip, I have no lower back pain and my knees are stronger than they were five years ago. The thrill of coasting down the Glengesh Valley, past bubbling creeks and endless waterfalls, along a glorious estuary and past hedgerows of red fuchsias is exhilarating. Top it off with a pint of Guinness, well, it's a wonderful thing. Thank you Seamus and Nora for sharing your green corner of the world with us. And thanks Jeff, Tom and Linda for being such great companions. It was a blast!

Linda and I try out an ancient grave for size

Living Abroad and Values to Live By

Along the Rio Piracicaba

My husband, Jeff and I arrived in Brazil on March 2. We are here for two months while Jeff, who is a part time visiting professor at the University of São Paulo, works with Brazilian colleagues to complete a five-year research project measuring carbon flux in the lower Amazon River.

Rapids on the RIo Piracicaba

Living abroad is different than traveling as a tourist. Its benefits are subtler but no less rewarding. Although I’ve traveled to Brazil many times, the distance between our hometown of Seattle and the town we are living in never gets shorter. Piracicaba is a former colonial town of about 400,000 people built on the banks of the Piracicaba River. It is in upstate São Paulo and about a 2-hour drive from the giant metropolis of the city of São Paulo. Surrounded by rich sugar cane fields, it is a world apart. Its prosperity is based on the region’s agriculture but the town is also home to a university and several manufacturing plants.

During the years of living here, we’ve usually rented an apartment near the university but this year we rented a small house on the eastern edge of town. The house is one of about 20 homes in a gated development – the tidy homes run along a single, dead end street. The community consists mostly of young families. On weekends, children are everywhere, biking on the street, playing kickball in the grassy open areas, swinging on the swings in the community playground and generally goofing around with each other. When Jeff and I returned from a friend’s house late Saturday night, a group of parents were sitting at plastic picnic tables at the street end while their kids played in the dark. The scene reminded me of my childhood in the 1950’s, when us kids played late into summer evenings while our parents sat outside, eating, drinking and talking together. It is a pleasure to observe a similar scene in 2018. Such informal street games are uncommon in contemporary urban United States – unusual in my neighborhood in Seattle – although Halloween night is an exception. I love seeing kids running free, playing outside in the open air. In our increasingly structured society, I rarely see kids just running or biking along neighborhood streets. Too often, the freedom I experienced growing up in a small Canadian town doesn’t exist for kids growing up today. For my part, that is too bad. It may be far fetched, but I believe that being part of an open and inclusive community and engaging in physical activity are factors that can help children develop positive life values and a habit of life long exercise.

A few weeks before our trip, my brother closed and distributed to us (we are a close knit sibling group of six adults) the remaining funds in a final bank account that had belonged to our parents both of whom died quite a few years ago. He wrote to us that he was grateful to our parents not just for the money, but for the British World War II era values they taught us. Our parents were English and we had immigrated to Canada in 1955, then to the United States nine years later. In response, my older sister specified what she believes those values to be. In no particular order, here is her list.

• ·      Honesty
• ·      The importance of hard work
• ·      Respect for other people
• ·      Charity
• ·      Modesty
• ·      Gratitude
• ·      Maintaining one's health
• ·      The importance of a good education
• ·      Self-respect
• ·      The Golden Rule (treat other people as you would like them to treat you)

Her list struck me as accurate, and worthy of living by regardless of where and at what time in history you live. I agree with my sister. These are the values our parents taught us and that my siblings and I have tried to live by. As good fortune and good sense would have it, all six of us married men and women who share these values. All of us have tried to bring up our children to share these values as well. It’s a good list for sure, as relevant in Brazil as in the United States, Great Britain (where this sister lives) and perhaps globally. Curiously, living according to such values seems less common today in our wild and unpredictable world.

My Writing Station

One of the things I enjoy, as a retired woman living abroad, is the simplicity of my life. The sheer freedom inherent in living in a house that has only one or two objects is lovely. I’m enjoying an almost empty space at my writing station – a single orchid and an M. C. Escher print are my companions.

I enjoy having more free time. I love my endless activities in my stateside life – especially taking care of my grandson – that is my favorite pastime since becoming a grandmother nine months ago. I miss this activity terribly in Brazil. However my days in Seattle are full of many things: writing groups and writing classes; volunteer work; gardening; walking, biking and exercising at my YMCA; cultural events and myriad social interactions with my large extended family and wide circle of friends. Here, in Brazil apart from the daily routines of cooking, cleaning, laundry and exercising at a local gym, my days are largely unstructured. With greater free time I am able to live a more contemplative life – more time to think, write, read and take long walks – I am always trying to achieve my FitBit goal of 10,000 steps/day. 

Neon Tetras at the Aquarium by the river

On Sunday my husband and I walked around the riverfront trail – a 5-mile stint and good for more than 12,000 steps. During our walk we visited a small local aquarium and saw tiny neon tetras that reminded me of the home aquarium my son had as a child.  Yesterday, I had time to finish a wonderful book. Rather than waiting until the evening, I read the book’s last pages while drinking my morning coffee in the small, enclosed garden behind our rented house. It felt like a luxury to read a book in the morning – and much more rewarding than reading the online news or checking my email.

Beyond my garden wall

In my opinion, the book in question is one of the great novels of the 20^th century. Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez is a story of love and old age. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it – especially if you are over 50. Márquez is worth reading. He won the Nobel Prize for Literature and was a prolific and skilled writer. I am humbled by his skills. Although perhaps audacious to presume to write a poem after reading such a brilliant author, I wrote in gratitude to a great man. Enjoy and don’t forget to take a walk today – that is part of maintaining one’s health and self-respect.

Love in the Time of Cholera,

Dois Córregos, Piracicaba, Brazil

Early morning.
The dove calls from afar.
Her mournful cry
Fills the morning air.
The sun warms my skin.
Bougainvillea creeps over the wall.
Its fuchsia blossoms
Drift in the soft breeze.
Three Papagayos squawk,

Stark silhouettes

Against the bright blue sky.

I sit, drinking my coffee,

At a small plastic table,

And burrow down deep,
Lost in the pages
Of the book I love.

We leave for Rio on Saturday for the last month of our sojourn in Brazil. I look forward to continuing my contemplative freedom in that marvelous city.

Found along the banks of the river