Sailing to France from England? Not quite


Thanks to our Froggy friends, my planned sailing trip across the channel has been redirected. Looking forward with both trepidation and hope, I learnt that the French were protesting about petrol prices and wouldn't let boats use the port at Cherbourg!

Never mind. The Beatrice C with her owner and captains Victor and Karoline, and with sturdy crewmates Mike, Jon, Wayne, Jasper, Dave and myself, we pottered around the south coast of England, near the Isle of Wight.

Our first night we slept on board at our berth in the little river at Hamble and in the morning we slowly sailed to Lymington in the 49 foot Hallberg Rasse, 22 years old.

And then we went to Cowes for the night. A lovely little pub on the Isle of white for some table dancing.

The weather proved changeable and, despite the fact that we couldn't make it to france, we did have a good time!

Thanks Victor and Karoline!

Chartres, A Chrisitan Pilgrimage, the Eldest daughter of the Church


2008, 26th Annual Chartres Pilgrimage

Day 1. Harder than expected. Faster pace. Longer day. This is gruelling.
Day 2. Better, but still tough, very long, but with a slower pace. Did I mention very long?
Day 3. Easiest day of all, even accounting for loss of walking ability due to blisters and sore joints.

---------------------------------------------
Before the Beginning
I have packed my own tent. A one second tent. I hope this will work. Tony Pead, an old friend from Sydney has arrived. We dine out on Friday night with Maria Macgregor from Newcastle and Liz, from Liverpool. We have a bit of a drink, the weather is so nice. I eat tartiflatte for dinner ( with memories of the last time, cooked by Simon and Antoine in the French Alps) in a small french cafe where the food is quite reasonable. We are staying in the 11th Arondisment, the Hotel Belfort, a ten minute walk from Bastille. Bed at 1am. Maria and Liz will be up at 5am to get the Cathedral Notre Dame de Paris and register Liz. Tony and I sleep in a bit, hoping that after all the prayers and things, no one will leave till 7 at the earliest.

We get up, I am anxious to get the taxi, and wait a while for Tone to finish packing. He does. It is five minutes to seven. Even on the metro, we will be late. What's the worst that can happen, I think.... Um... My bag will not get on the truck and I'll have to walk with it for the 12 brisk hours today. Hmm that's a worrying thought. Let's hurry. There's a taxi, he'll get us there in time.


Ahh yes, the Cathedral, all the trucks are still here, but ours is full, and in broken french and english, we are told to put our stuff,not on Paris Sud, but Pastereux. Ok. I take a photo of the banner so that I can remember it.

The english are not to be seen. They must be in the Cathedral. We spot a man speaking out language and have a chat. He is a father or a teacher at Chavagne, the international school for boys in France. They have a chapter of about 20 boys along. I spot the Irish, who are always up for a chat. I say hello to Eamon, the leader of the group, and Jean-Peter, the man from Holland who loves to walk with the Irish, he is an honorary Irishman.

The beginning. The English, the Irish, the pace
At eight 8am the pilgrims appear, we have ascertained that we will be walking near the front on the first two days, and just about last on the final day. With over 10 000 pilgrims, the difference between the front and the back is 1 hour, and a whole lot of psychoogy. I note where the Irish and American chapters are also walking. I wish that we could walk and camp closer together.


We start walking, I say hello to Madeliene Readings, who has some tendon problems with her foot, but is walking on pain killers. She is such a trooper, and such a kind soul. I spot also her sister Grace and Gregory Flash, who is leading the youth chapter, under the banner of St Alban. It is sad to see that Richard, the irishman from last year has not made it. I think back to the previous year, with Karolina, with her Australian flag, and Liz from Canada and Bec Freer and James' sister. Good times. I wonder what this year will be like. I say hello to Liz from Liverpool and Maria Macgregor and the organisers, Francis and Julie Carey. I spot a few more familiar faces from last years pilgrimage. The english have been walking for 15 years, and it was started with Francis' parents way back then. There are a number of people on this walk who have done all 15.



"It's all well and good going on a religous walk, but this is just too much. Can't someone tell these french to slow it down a bit?"




The pace out of Paris and indeed all of the first day is enough to shock anyone into thinking that it's all well and good going on a religous walk, but this is just too much. Can't someone tell these french to slow it down a bit? We try to get ourselves in to the spirit with singing. Faith of our Fathers seems right. Oh how I wish John and the Wills girls and Stephen Smith from the Ballarat to Bendigo were here.

Our first stop is after 3 hours. The heat is making walking difficult and people are getting sunburnt already at this early hour. We have an apple and a bun, and stretch. We are off again.


Our lunch is held in a less picturesque clearing than in previous years. We speculate why. Not knowing much french, and probably not even being informed in that language, we don't get much information. I think that it is to let more people be able to see the altar. And if this is the aim, they have done a fantastic job. The mass is amazing, so reverend, especially amazing since we are in a forest. Maria and Liz and a new friend of ours Daniel find some shade, while most of the English chapter sit in the blistering sun. At communion time, it is so busy that we don't make it.

We move off all too soon, and we are all feeling a bit the worse for wear. Maria has had blisters from a day or two before, never a good start to a tough pilgrimage. Daniel and Liz are finding it MOST surprising.

This afternoon is probably the hardest bit to walk, and we all try to encourage each other. Father Mark Withoos is doing a good job with rosaries and songs on the loudspeaker. He has been studying in America and has brought 20 americans with him. Two of them nuns in their full black habit.

We look to our right, and see a small blonde boy struggling, walking slowly head down. Maria asks him his name and tries to find out where his parents or guardian is. No real response. We stay with him until we get to the "rest stop", which is a sit on a gravel car park. We deliver him to the hands of the bus people. Strange boy.

The One Second Tent

At camp that night, we struggle in. It is still nice weather, and I set up my tent. I'm a little tired, and so the 1 second turns into a few minutes, but it is up on soft grass. I have some room and privacy. This is great. I have camped right near the speaker, but it's loud everywhere, so I assume it won't be so bad tomorrow morning, will it?

We dine together after a brief wash. We share out rolls and chocolate and sweets. It's a communal picnic amongst the five or six of us. We visit the large communal campfire and watch some scout activities, before dropping by the chapel, and hitting the hay.

Friends, Walking and Walking. The longest afternoon

It's horrible. The blaring voice at 5am welcoming us to a new day and saying how wonderful it is. All in french. And all very very loud. I rest for another 20 minutes and then pack up my tent, quite well thank you. I put my stuff on to the truck. Maria and I make a preemptive strike and go to the bathroom. By the time we get out the english have disappeared. Surely we are not behind already? We check the sheet, and the french cries of devant, devant... forces us to run for about 5 minutes. We make it. I tell you, it's every man for himself here.

Daniel is here, so we walk with him again. We pray the rosary in latin and english. Maria teaches us the french version. Je vous salut Marie... It's lovely. I meet 2 canadians who are walking with us. Anjulie and her sister. They are doing a month long tour. Every second year there is a Canadian chapter. This year, the english host the canadians. They have never done a pilgrimage before, but are fairly fit from horse riding and caving and possibly other things. They have lovely voices and are a pleasure to speak to.

Our lunch this day is taken at about 11 am. We stop early. I think that this is going to be a long afternoon. I eat tuna and bread and bananas and chocolate and fall asleep hearing Tony chatting to a big French scout beside me. I wake up for the mass. This time we make it to communion.

We head off, I'm feeling fresh from me sleep and in good spirits. Somehow, I have beaten this pilgrimage. I have eaten well and feel fine. We walk for about two and a half hours, I'm still feeling good. Chatting with Maria and Daniel, who works, or rather, as he says, is employed by the Royal Mail. His mother has cajoled him to coming on this pilgrimage, and I think he likes it. The pace today is slower than yesterday. Maria and I remisc about the mud from last year. A lot of mud.

This day is long, and even if you think that you are ready for a long day, it is longer than you think it will be. You think that the last bend is just around the corner, but it is soooooo far. Towards the end of the day, we get our first glimpse of the Cathedral. Maria and I have skipped ahead of the chapter, as we don't want to get left behind again, and if our pace drops, as we expect, we will end up with the English anyway. We kneel when we see the spires and sing the salve. They are a long way away. And so apparently is the camp. I remember years ago, with Jane and John and this is where we got some chocolate from Tom Windsor, and I think it is what kept me going then.

Maria's blisters are causing her some pain, as is the general joint problems that come from walking 30 miles a day for two days. We help each other out, telling stories of school and the past to forget about the present.

We do finally make it, and the English chapter have caught up to us. We setup for the night and have a small dinner. As there is no cloud cover, the heat vanishes quickly. I opt not to have a wash. We drop by the small chapel for adoration. My heart swells. It is encouraging to see so many people at benediction when they must all be suffering. I stay for a few minutes and say some prayers, asking for direction in life, for help for all my family and friends, especially those who've been on pilgrimage with me before. We head back towards the beds, but stop off at the toilet. The line is stupidly long for 10pm at night. We head to bed.

Day 3. How can this be the easy day?
Tired from walking 60 miles. Blistered, lacking sleep and with 14 miles to go. How can I be happy and looking ahead positively.


In the women's tent, one person awakes later compared to yesterday.. at 5:30am, and asks "Why is that maniac not yelling at us to get up?". We have a chuckle. We were all thinking it. Laughs are welcome. We get to sleep in today, till at least 6. Some other people have got up at 3am and started packing. It takes all sorts.



"Why is that maniac not yelling at us to get up?"


We are walking at the back today, possibly in the last group. Maria and I grab some coffee and hot chocolate. WE don't have our mugs with us, so see two great looking milk cartons in the bin, and use them for mugs. On pilgrimage, you do what you have to. Even if it means scrunging in the bin. We bump into two americans around the camp. Mother and daughter, Susan and Gabriella. They have in a sense both been tricked in to coming. They are cheerful and friendly. I ask if I can walk with their chapter for a bit of today. I meet Joshua from Texas? and Katie Walker and a few others. I sing Chez nous with the head of their chapter, and find that I am one of the stronger voices for that song. How I love it. I learn that last night, one of the American's big tents went missing, so they had to divide up their one tent for men and women. I speak to two guys who had to sleep outside the tent. It was freezing last night. Poor souls. They are quite cheery about it. Pilgrimage people are weird.


I leave the US at the first stop and wait for the English chapter. I wait at least 45 minutes. They stumble in. Here's Daniel and Tony and Liz, and Madeleine and Grace. I can't see Maria. Maybe her blisters have gotten the better of her, and she has got the bus, or has fallen behind. I feel guilty, I should have been there to help her and talk to her. She is stubborn and it will hurt her if she were forced to get the bus. I ask timidly Liz where she is. She'd run ahead for the bathroom. I see her now. She is well. I walk with the English again. This day is easier than the other two. The end is in sight. We practice Chez nous and the Pilgrimage anthemn - Chartres Sonnes, Chartres T'appeller, Gloire honour au Christe Roi.

We get there. We have not made it inside this year. Even the flag bearers do not get to enter. Again Maria and Daniel and I seek out the shade. There is a large screen outside and good speakers, so we can hear the mass.

We have made it!

We dine again that night after fantastic showers and a small mishap were we nearly lost a young lady of our group. But just after 8pm, at La Belle Epoque, we gather and talk about the day and or best and worst moments.

Gabrielle and her mum Susan drop by. This so lovely. They are leaving at 3am for Malta.

We drop by the Irish at the Boef something and have a whiskey and a quiet chat.

Hopefully some grace has been gained, some good done. Hopefully.

Till next year, Chartres Sonner.

The first day, the Saturday had such great weather, that come nightfall, most everyone is pleased to be able to wash from the large sinks with cold dribbling water provided. The forced check of our wristbands, identifying us was quite annoying after walking for a 12 hour day. Perhaps it is necessary, I just wish that there were a better way to do it.

For next year, suggested foods to bring: Bananas, at least 3 for each day, they are great. And 2 apples per day. Pizza for lunch, chicken for lunch, tuna and salads for lunch. Lots of chocolate. No need for smelly cheese, or StinkKaiser, as the germans call it, and boy does it stink. Saucisson, overrated.

A good visual explanation of sleep apnea

http://www.resmed.com/en-en/patients/understanding-sdb-english-640x380.swf

Obstructive Sleep Apnea-Related Brain Deficits Beaten By Green Tea Compounds


Chemicals
found in green tea may be able to stave off the cognitive deficits that
occur with obstructive sleep apnea (OSA), according to a new study
published in the second issue for May of the American Thoracic
Society's American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine.

Obstructive Sleep Apnea-Related Brain Deficits Beaten By Green Tea Compounds


from the link:
People with OSA have been reported to have increased markers of
oxidative stress and exhibit architectural changes in their brain
tissue in areas involved in learning and memory.

OSA has been increasingly recognized as a serious and frequent health
condition with potential long-term morbidities that include learning
and psychological disabilities […],


Nice website for graphs - Many Eyes

http://services.alphaworks.ibm.com/manyeyes/app

Suicide and Protestant, Jewish or Catholic
http://services.alphaworks.ibm.com/manyeyes/view/S9_5xLsOtha6MAkCepzxL2~

Ballarat to Bendigo, Lewisham photo albums

http://community.webshots.com/user/akendrick451/profile

Some old photo albums... ballarat to bendigo, Lewisham