Into the Mountains and La Muse Inn: Via Paris and Carcassonne.

After a wonderful day strolling around Dol I returned to the railway station to catch my train to Paris.  

Despite  Paul explaining the way back to the station I managed to get lost and a vey kind lady thankfully pointed me in the right direction.

This journey involved changing staitions at Paris.  When I realized this was the case, I did some research about the options and decided to go the totally stress free route and to get a taxi.  This was one of those times that the cost was not a consideration.  I needed to make my connection and it would be late in the evening when I arrived in Paris.  This was not the time to choose the cheapest way to do it and then get lost on the metro. lol  I arrived at the Montparnasse station on time and walked out into the Paris evening. It was a clear night. 

I paused to take in the scene for a moment and then started searching for the taxi rank. Eventuallly I came across the line of waiting taxis and began my journey across Paris.

It was kind of exciting to think I was in Paris, driving down its framous streets in a taxi. I was thinking it would have been nice to suddenly spy the Eiffel Tower out of my window, but no such luck. lol

 I really had no desire to stay in Paris at this time, as I plan to visit it one day with a friend and to be able to share the experiences with whoever that may be. 

The streets were alive and the cafes were buzzing.

I got a few pictures out of the taxi window as we drive along, just for memories sake.

It didn't take too long to get to Paris Austerlitz and it wasn't too expensive, around 12 Euros, I can't remember exactly.

The train from Austerlitz to Carcassonne was an overnight train.  We left at nearly 10:00 pm and arrived in Caecassonne at 5:30 in the morning.

This was the same train my daughter Beth had taken when she travelled to Carcassonne years ago.  She was alone at the time too, and she told me she went for a coffee in a cafe just up the road and to the left of the station.

 When I arrived in Carcassonne it was a chilly January morning and I walked up to the cafe for a coffee. I thought of Beth doing the same thing and it was a comforting thought. A shared experience.

I had a cafe au lait and a croissant.  

This was my first experience of the European concept of a bar and coffee shop being one and the same place. 

It was nice to sit in the warmth of this fancy establishment.  Soon I wandered back to the station and was interested in the canal that was in front of the station.  I later discovered it was Le Canal Du Midi, that travels across France and is a national treasure.

I had to wait until 9:00 before I got picked up by John from La Muse Inn.  I was grateful for my warm scarf and gloves as I sat in the station waiting room.

As 9:00 approached, a woman came up to me and asked if I was going to La Muse Inn.   There seemed to be an instant connection.  I was delighted to meet Jena, who was from Australia, and of a similar age to me. I felt reassured that I would not be the odd one out at the writers retreat, :-)  I didn't realize this had been on my mind, but I suppose it had, as I had no idea of the ages etc of the participants.

While we waited for John I got a great picture of the hotel near the station. 

John arrived and we drove round and picked up Jena's luggage from her hotel, as she had arrived the day before.

Next we went to the grocery store and got our food supplies for the next week.  I had signed up for the ride package, which meant there would be weekly tips into Carcassonne for sight seeing and grocery shopping.  The last week would be a trip to Lastours.

As we drove into the mountains we passed through some lovely villages.

John pointed out the charteaux on top of the mountain in the village of Lastours and gave a brief history of the Cathar people who were persecuted by the Catholic Church.

Lastours also had this amazing chimney.  I would find out more about that later.

I was fascinated by the towers on the hilltop and couldn't wait till we paid them a visit later in my stay.

It  was an exciting moment when we drove into Labastide Esparbairenque, as it would be my home for the next four weeks.

It was amazing to see the houses all perched on the side of such steep hills.

As we came round the corner to where La Muse was, there was a van parked right in the middle of the road.  It was the Epicier, the man who comes to sell food and groceries to the village residents. 

We just had to be patient and wait. :-)

When everyone had completed their shopping, we reversed in order to let the van out.

 Then we continued on our way. We were finally at La Muse.

John pulled up in front of the chapel, right beside La Muse Inn, and unloaded our luggage.  

Once inside he assigned us our cupboard space and a shelf in the fridge so we could unload our groceries.  Then we got to see our rooms and I was ecstatic as soon as I walked into my space.

It was beyond my wildest expectations.

I loved everything about it; the embroidered Indian coverlet on the bed,  the floor to ceiling drapes and the tall windows as well as the beamed ceiling,  It was exquisite.

Even the door handle captured my imagination,  How old must it be? I had never seen a door with a handle in the middle before.

The ceilings were so high.

After taking in the room, I checked out the view.  I was overlooking the river valley with the heavily treed mountainside right across the way.  Looking down you could see houses sitting nestled in the hillside.

I had arrived.  It had been a long journey from Dol in Brittany to a tiny village in the Black Mountains of Southern France.   It was somewhere I had dreamt of being for many years.  It was hard to believe I had made it.

Little did I think when I found La Muse on the internet so many years ago that I would actually be here in the flesh, attending a four  week writiers retreat.  Powerful visualizations apparently bring results and what you can dream can come can to be!

There was the introductory tour of the village to look forward to, as well as our crepe luncheon where we would share out hopes for the time spent at La Muse.  But that my friends, is another story.

Across Country to Bridlington, and My Mother.

Travelling by train really is a great way to travel here in England.  Even if it involves lots of changing stations along the way.  Luckily my family happily drive me to the nearest station, in this case Kirkham, a mere ten minutes from the village of Elswick, where my sister lives. 

The journey from Kirkham to Bridlington  involved many changes.  First stop was Preston, just ten minutes away.  The new elctronic signs make it so much easier to find the correct platform than when I used to travel by train years ago. I found the platform for Manchester Oxford Road and was surprised to see Horwich as one of the stops on the journey.

 It was a packed train going to Manchester Oxford Road, standing room only, but luckily I had booked ahead and had a reserved seat. :-)

People were crammed into the aisles and it was a very interesting journey as I was opposite two very vocal and demanding children with a very patient father.

Something realy special happened on this trip. I went right through a little stop called Horwich Parkway.  My very good friend in Canada comes from Horwich, so I had to take this picture as I thought of Carole.  It was sad to think her sister Charlotte was so close, yet so far away. 

Manchester Oxford Road seemed to be fairly quiet too. I loved the big old clock there. 

From Manchester I got on a train to Seamer that passed through Leeds, a place I would be visiting later in December. The ultimate destination of this train was Scarborough, where I went to college for three years. However, I was getting off in Seamer, in order to get to Bridlington.  It was quite a long wait in Seamer, buffeted by the cold wind, and I was very happy to board my train to Bridlington. 

The station at Brid was all decked out for Christmas and made for a wonderful welcome to the east coast. I felt good to be back in this city which I had first visited when I was eighteen. I was working as a chamber maid in Scarborough through the summer season and took the bus down one weekend to visit my family who were vacationing in Bridlington in the caravans on Lime Kiln Lane. It was so strange that my parents chose to settle in Bridlington when they returned to England after so many years in Canada.  

Once in Bridlington I got the taxi to my Bed and Breakfast at Brentwood House Hotel which was on Princess St..

 What a great location, right in the centre of town and only a fifteen minute walk to my Mum's Care Home. I arrived on the fifteenth of December and I had my Christmas shopping to do so it was nice to be right near the shops and also not too far from Mum.

 The host at Brentwood House was amazing. He was so welcoming and he cooked some of the best breakfasts I have ever had.

 My room was lovely and I really felt blessed to have found this place as lots of Bed and Breakfasts were closed so near to Christmas.  

 I arrived in time to have a cup of tea in my room at the B and B before I walked over to see Mum. I knew her routine from previous visits and  seven o'clock at night is a great time to arrive as she has settled into her TV viewing after her tea.

I wrapped up warm and headed over to the Sandy Land Care Home.  She was so surprised to see me, and I got such a big smile and hugs and kisses. I knelt beside her for the first part of the visit just to be close to her. She held my hand and it was so good to be able to touch her and be close once again. 

I felt so happy to finally be with her.  More in the next post about my time in Bridlington and with my beautiful mother. 

Up North To Lancashire and My Sister

After a fabulous visit with my dear friend San, we bid each other farewell and Denny took me to Bristol Meads Station. Once again lots of changes were involved  on my jouney up north. First the trek from Bristol to Birmingham, then Birmingham to Preston. 

I took some pictures in Preston.

  Here is the platform as we stood waiting for the connection to Kirkham, which was late. 

I was travelling very light and quite proud I managed to fit all I needed into one travelling bag and my purse. 

Finally our connection came. It was a very cold evening and we were happy to see it. On the train from Preston to Kirkham, there were happy Christmas revellers who were singing songs and full of the Christmas Spirit, it was very joyful.  

My sister and brother in law met me at Kirkham on a chilly December evening.

It was so great to see them, and this was to be the first Christmas together for over 25  years.  I was only here for a few days and then planned to go see my Mum for a week.  My brother was then coming to see Mum and pick me up and drive us over to Geraldine's on the Sunday before Christmas.  Steven's sister was also coming up from London for Christmas along with Geraldine's two sons. 

When we arrived at Geraldine and Steve's we were met at the door by their lovely golden Labrador, Ellie, the best dog in the world. I got to go out on a walk with her and Steve in the lanes of Elswick, their little village. Meagles Lane is such a lovely name.

It is surrounded by farms and fields and is very peaceful and beautiful.

 The village is also very pretty.

My sister is a talented weaver and spinner of wool.  She dyes the wool herself and spins it ready for weaving.  Many years ago when we all lived in Canada, she began weaving with the Whonnock Weavers.  My cousin in England did a family tree and we discovered that our ancestors were actually cottage weavers in Yorkshire generations ago.  I love the magic of these kinds of discoveries, how family traits and talents are passed on unknowingly. 

Here is some wool she dyed.

And here is her beautiful spinning wheel.

She has two looms, but this is the one set up in the sun room and the one she is currently working on.

I was only with them for a few days and then I headed off on another train journey, this time to Bridlington to see my wonderful mother.  

To be continued . . . .