With thanks...
MAY 2009
I am grateful for the launch of my new book, and awesome adventures with my love...
With thanks... May 1...
Today I am grateful for a fun second day at the Mind Body Spirit Festival, and so many lovely people asking about my books (and a few, ahem, slightly strange ones), and sharing the energy. Although I'm exhausted, there were moments of high energy, laughter and delirium :-)
Thank you to my beautiful love, for his help and support, and to Cynthia for flitting by to look after the stall for me here and there, and hanging out with me and keeping me sane, and amused...
I am grateful for the encouragement of my friends, and looking forward to so many coming to say hi tomorrow. Sounds like it will be a busy Saturday at the festival...
And I am grateful for the beautiful coolness in the air, the crisp sunshine days and the need for a blanket at night...
Beltane blessings to those in the northern hemisphere, and Samhain love and introspection to those in the south :-)
With thanks... May 2...
Today I am grateful to all the gorgeous people who bought my book - or books! - at the Mind Body Spirit festival, the interesting conversations (and the just plain weird!), and the cute affirmation water.
I am grateful to my precious beloved, who came in with me early in the morning and helped me until he had to leave for his real job, who kept me entertained (and awake!), and went out to get me chai.
I am grateful to Nigel and Cynthia for popping by and letting me have a breather...
I am grateful to all those who came to tell me that they bought Seven Sacred Sites at the last MBSF, and how much it has helped and inspired them...
I am grateful for the sunshine in the morning, and for forgetting to take my umbrella out of my bag, so I didn't get *too* wet in the gorgeous downpour at the end of the day...
And I am grateful to Andrew and Sean for adding the new book to my website, www.SevenSacredSites.com.au...
With thanks... May 3...
Today I am grateful to all those who visited me at the Mind Body Spirit Festival - who bought my books, had interesting conversations with me, admired my photos, shared their stories...
I am grateful to my beautiful love, who carried everything for me after a hard day at work, and to Cynthia and Sabina for sitting with me and keeping me amused and entertained. Sorry if I got a bit cynical and dark towards the end - delirium has set in!
I am grateful to Margie for driving us home, and the thought of a hot shower and a (relatively) early night...
With thanks... May 4...
Today I am grateful for dinner with a friend and lots of laughs...
For a big, hectic but productive day at Disney Princess magazine...
For an order of another 350 books this month from the distributor...
For my beautiful love, who helped me package them all up...
For hot chai and supportive friends...
And for my health. Sending love, light and healing to sweet Martine...
With thanks... May 5...
Today I am grateful for a cute day off with my love as we prepare to go away...
For Bif Naked's new album, which is out today in the US but was sent by her - very exciting...
For inspiring people like Bif and Martine, who fight against the odds and appreciate every moment and live life to the full...
For a cute conversation with my niece, who was turning three...
For dinner with my aunty and uncle...
For beroccas as I wage war with this funny throat thing...
For bed, and new adventures tomorrow!
In May I was grateful for every day of the beautiful adventure I went on with my cute husbee, exploring England, returning to my favourite haunts and to our honeymoon spot, and discovering new places together...
Wednesday 6… And we’re off! It’s a long way to London from Sydney, and we both have colds, which isn’t much fun. But after watching six movies and drinking lots of tea – and writing in A Magical Journey, which I was happy to note was easy to write in and had no show-through – we finally landed at Heathrow at some ungodly hour…
Thursday 7… and jumped on the bus to Oxford, after a big Starbucks chai (strangely sweeter than at home)… We found our way to where we’re staying, walking through the beautiful, historic town, which inspired Harry Potter and the His Dark Materials trilogy, and atheists through the ages, and past the striking and awe-inspiring Christ Church College, where we peeked in through the gates to the imposing quadrangle. Crossing a tiny bridge, we saw a huge swan – and a little swamp hen! Then after settling in we went on a college walking tour with a man who hates students and religion, ironically. And he wasn’t fond of academics either! The colleges of Oxford University are amazing and ancient, built from the 1100s on, and so beautiful and mysterious. I pictured Lyra skipping through the halls, and Harry, Ron and Hermione eating in the dining hall… We wandered through Merton, All Souls, Brasenose, New College and Exeter, our heads filled with stories of Tolkien, Lewis and Dawkins.
Friday 8… A little dazed and confused after waking up at 5am, we set out for breakfast at Café Loco, an Alice In Wonderland inspired place with murals of the Mad Hatter’s tea party on the walls, and had tea and scones (well, I am on holiday). We wandered through awesome bookshops, then went up the tiny spiral staircase of Carfax Tower for a view out over the Dreaming Spires that have inspired so many poets and writers. We walked through The Meadow by Christ Church, so English and pretty and green, and sat by the stream, giggling at the ducklings, then went to the Botanic Gardens and sat on Lyra and Will’s seat and admired Tolkein’s favourite tree... Our next adventure was the canal walk down to Port Meadow, where Lewis Carroll used to take Alice. It was beautiful, all green and sun-dappled, with gypsy houseboats moored along the shore, but much longer than I’d thought (sorry Cutes!). Just as we were about to give up and turn back we came across a pub, and had a cup of tea, and discovered we were almost there… I’d apologised for taking Cutes on a wild goose chase – and when we got there, there were geese! And tiny rabbits nibbling on bluebells. And an old ruined nunnery, and a beautiful walk back along the River Thames – called Isis in these parts… Lucky the sun doesn’t set until 10pm!
Saturday 9… We woke again at 5am, and I read Lyra’s Oxford, and was inspired to go and retrace her steps, through Exeter College and the Bodlein Library, and down to Linacre College (near the science buildings, which are all ugly – guess they don’t think scientists need to be inspired by beauty)… After hours wandering through the old streets, we hot footed it to the station and caught the train to Swindon to pick up the car. Driving back to Oxford, we saw the sign to Wayland’s Smithy and decided to check it out. Of course, following our new theme, it was not just a few steps to the site, as expected, but a 3km hike each way. But it was worth it, even in our still-sick state – it’s an amazing old long barrow grave with a cute little cruciform chamber you could crawl into, exposed to the elements and surrounded by trees in a beautiful glade. Then it was back to the Uffington White Horse, which wasn’t much of a horse to be honest :-) It might be England’s oldest chalk horse, but it’s not the most impressive… We made our way back to Oxford, up Saint Giles to the Eagle and Child pub where the Inklings, including Tolkien and CS Lewis, used to meet to discuss their writing, their other worlds and the topics of the day…
Sunday 10… We woke again at 5am, with the sun, so we went walking along the river, shivering but stunned by the beauty of the mist on the water, the sunlight filtering through the trees, and the cute little squirrels, ducks and swans. Our favourite was the little goslings all huddled together under Mama Goose’s wing. One had five under her wing, and another had 10! At some moment decided by both the mums stood up and shepherded her kids over to the grass to begin their very civilised British breakfast ritual. So cute! After a last wander through the town, and the purchase of an Alice In Wonderland tea set from Alice’s Shop, we set out for Warwickshire, through tiny quaint villages and tree-canopied roads. We stopped at Blenheim Palace and strolled through the beautiful grounds, then searched for the Rollright Stones, made up of a really pretty stone circle, a nearby cove known as the Whispering Knight’s burial chamber, and a standing stone called the King’s Stone. This is where we came across bumblebees, bees as big as cats! And then, after driving through pretty Stratford On Avon, we made it to our next home away from home – a castle! – where we had a little tea party. Our room is in the old wing, high-ceilinged and old fashioned, with heavy velvet drapes and the coolest, hugest window seat that looks out on a turret.
Monday 11… We went exploring in the castle grounds before breakfast, then our friend came out to take us on an adventure. We went back to Stratford, where Cutes had his first decent coffee, and we walked along the river, said hello to the swans, laughed at all the Shakespeare pubs (and the house he was allegedly born in – which was in fact built 150 years after he died)… We went to a pagan shop and witchcraft museum, with an apocathery and a ghost-train style spooky tour, with a haunted toy store and stories about murders in the area. Then we went rowing and watched the swans take off over our heads, before driving through a host of little Cotswold villages, pausing to admire the ducklings, visit a traditional sweet shop and drink tea in a pub. Later we went back to Stratford to do a ghost tour, with a some-time actor who regaled us with history and ghost tales and laughed at our shivering… It is *so* cold here!
Tuesday 12… We set off early for Amesbury, the closest village to Stonehenge, pausing for tea and shortbread in little villages with names like Stoke On The Wold, then settling in to our very English looking little room then making our way down to Salisbury, where we explored the town for a while before meeting up with Pat, who’s worked on the Durrington Walls archaeology project, for our inner circle Henge tour. He was a little overcome with joy that I was excited about seeing his favourite monument, Durrington Walls (the ancient village whose foundations were recently discovered, which is believed to be where the builders of Stonehenge lived), as most people haven’t heard of it. We drove through the beautiful Woodford Valley, past little pixie houses and Sting’s rather massive mansion, to Woodhenge (which was as impressive in its day as SH) and DW, then walked through the landscape around Stonehenge, checking out the Cursus, and some barrows, and walking up the Avenue, then making our way inside the circle after it had closed for the day. This time I did try the dowsing rods over the leyline within the circle, which was fascinating. And the sunset was as beautiful and incredible, but nicely different, as last time.
Wednesday 13… A cute inbetween day… Hanging out in Salisbury, washing clothes, drinking tea, visiting the famous cathedral and exploring Old Sarum, the ancient castle and earthwork. Then we went back to Stonehenge and explored more of the surrounding landscape, checking out more barrows (under the ever watchful and curious eyes of a few cows), including the Bush Barrow where the Amesbury Archer was found – it’s fascinating that Stonehenge is the centrepiece of a giant graveyard. We also stumbled upon the caravan of “King Arthur Perndragon” (changed by deed poll), a druid who is “claiming” Stonehenge and living nearby in protest at the protective measure of English Heritage. Don’t get me started :-) We returned to Amesbury for dinner at the big old Antrobus Arms, once owned (allegedly) by the Antrobus family, who owned and protected Stonehenge for a century.
Thursday 14… The day we walked for five hours, fell in a bog and earned toes full of blood blisters… We set out for Cornwall earlyish, planning to see five or six stone circles on our way, but nothing went according to plan. We stopped at the cute village of Chagford, in the heart of Dartmoor in the county of Devon, for lunch, and got talking to the café owner, who pointed out the Grey Wethers stone circle on our Disneyland-style map, and told us how to get there and where to park. He didn’t tell us – despite knowing how far we still had to drive to get to Cornwall, and how many other sites we wanted to visit – just how long the trek was. On our cute little map it looked like it would be about 15 minutes each way, around the edge of the Teddy Bear’s picnic forest, but alas, the forest turned into the stuff of nightmares, dark and scary looking, and extending off into the distance. It took us two hours to get there, during which we climbed several hills, fell in a bog and risked life and limb on a non-path route to the stones. Squelching our way back the other way took even longer. But it was amazing. The moor was wild and desolate and slightly alien, with wild ponies and deer racing by, little lambs, spooky trees, pretty flowers, strange unstable ground, and incredible wide open skies, threatening black clouds and craggy tors on the horizon. And there were two circles, which I danced happily around for a while, putting off the inevitable trek back around the never-ending lake… It started raining just as we got back to the car, which made us so grateful it hadn’t rained earlier. We finally made it to Penzance as darkness fell, and after a long hot shower fell sleepily, slightly achingly yet impressed by our adventurous spirit and dedication, into bed…
Friday 15… The day dawned cold and blustery, so we snuggled in our room with cups of tea for a while, reading, writing, chilling out, then set off for the nearby village of Marazion so we could visit St Michael’s Mount, a tiny island connected to the mainland at low tide by a causeway, and at high tide by a boat. It’s similar to Mont Saint Michel in France in many ways, with its castle and church, and submerged causeway and link to Archangel Michael, and is connected to it by the Apollo leyline which runs from Ireland to the Holy Land. So I was intrigued to see if this one felt like the French one… We had lunch as we waited for the tide to go out, so we could walk across the causeway. It was bitterly cold in the bay, but we pushed against the wind and made our way over, then climbed the super steep hill, past the holy well and through the gardens, up to the old castle, along the terraces and to the church. Standing on the battlements and looking up at the chapel on top was awesome. We battled our way back across the causeway, and went in search of the holy well and chapel of Madron, which was down an only slightly muddy path ? The well is renowned for its healing properties, and people tie pieces of rag (cloughties) and ribbons, scrunchies, feathers, crystals and necklaces to its (slightly spooky) tree to make a wish and appease the spirits of the well. A little further down the enchanted fairy path is the ruined well chapel, from the fourteenth century, although it was built on earlier foundations. Next we set off to Lanyon Quoit, which looks like a giant’s picnic table, or a lumbering prehistoric beast, but is actually a dolmen, an old burial chamber which was once covered by a mound of earth. And then we decided to search for the Nine Maidens stone circle, beginning at the Men An Tol stones (three cute Neolithic stones, one with a hole in the middle people climb through three times for fertility or health)… It’s a long story (and was a long walk), but we found it! Much to the surprise of the B&B owner ?
Saturday 16… Another blustery, wild and woolly day dawned, but that wasn’t going to stop us. And it cleared up (temporarily) as we danced through the Merry Maidens stone circle and visited Tregiffian Burial Chamber, a Neolithic chambered tomb. Then we set out again, along more terrifying one-lane roads, searching for Sancreed holy well. And it was so cute! We climbed down some little stone steps into the earth, and stood in the moss-lined grotto, anointing ourselves with the cold, clear water. Someone had left a tealight candle and lighter, which illuminated the walls and the ferns. It was so beautiful. There was a wishing tree there too, and wildflowers and bees, and it certainly felt like a place of fairies. And then we headed to Lands End, the most south westerly point in England, home of the pub that bills itself as the first and last pub in England (great marketing!), and Nanjizal Bay, where the Michael and Mary leylines (also known as the Dragon Path) first come ashore, to run all the way across England. Of course it was quite a hike to get there along the cliffs, and I got soaked by the rain and burnt by the sun (there are four seasons in one day in Cornwall!), but it was beautiful and powerful, and fun too, like a smugglers cove, with freezing cold waves to jump in, and golden sand to play on, and a deep dark cave to venture into, and a little waterfall and heart shaped rocks.
Sunday 17… Leaving the pirate town of Penzance, we headed north, to Bodmin Moor, and continued shifting through dimensions, sometimes having the rain pouring down on us (so hard we had to pull off the road for a while), then the clouds clearing and the sun shining down, then the fog descending and the day blackening… We found King Doniert’s Stone, two pieces of a ninth century carved Celtic cross; then the holy well at St Cleer, which was pretty but not a patch on Sancreed; and, after a few wring turns, Trevethy Quoit, a well preserved chamber tomb or portal dolmen, and very cute. It amazes me that people just have an ancient monument in their backyard! Then it was off to the Hurlers stone circles, three in varying states of completion, on a very soggy bog. It was raining a little, but we set out for the nearby Cheesewring, an unusual geological formation that is dramatic, powerful and impressive, and which the Dragon Path runs through. With much squelching and shivering we made it, without falling into any bogs, and then headed for Dozmary Pool, the reputed home of the Lady of the Lake. By which time we certainly deserved a cream tea, which we had at Jamaica Inn, made famous in Daphne du Maurier’s book of the same name, before setting out for Tintagel, the mythical birthplace of King Arthur… We dropped our bags off at our room in the King Arthur’s Arms (the tiny town is full of places like Merlin's Gifts, Guinevere’s Lounge and Pendragon Pub etc), then walked down the cliff to the castle ruins. In The Mists of Avalon it's Arthur’s mum the Lady Igraine's home, built on a tiny island connected to the high, dramatic cliffs by a tiny bridge. Now it’s more fallen down that standing up, but beautiful nonetheless. Especially as the sun set into the ocean and the little calves in the field mooed at us and ravens soared overhead...
Monday 18… I was so glad we took some blue-sky shots last night, because today was another grey and blustery day on the Cornish coast. Which has its own charm… After a typical English brekkie we clamboured up and down the steep rocky headland of Tintagel Island, unable to enter Merlin’s Cave due to the wild ocean and high tide, climbing a million steep stone steps, visiting the ruins of the 12th century chapel. They’re pretty open about just how mythical Arthur’s presence here is, which is nice ? I found a copy of Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d'Arthur in King Arthur’s Bookshop (of course!), then we went to King Arthur’s Hall, which an eccentric old millionaire created in the 1930s with replica round table and throne and great hall, and paintings of his life. And then it was off across the moors to Glastonbury, and our gorgeous little cottage…
Tuesday 19… We made our pilgrimage up the Tor, walking up Dod Lane, which follows the east-west leyline that connects the Abbey and the north side of the Tor with Stonehenge, and past pretty, feminine Chalice Hill. It sprinkled a little as we climbed, and by the time we got to the top, a little wet, windblown and bedraggled, the sky was incredible, so huge and black and ominous, then blue for a second, then grey again. It felt strong and powerful and angry up there, and so beautiful. Later, as we climbed back down and re-entered the “real” world, the sky became soft and blue and summery, as though the storm was the other dimension, and blue skies were the “real” world. We made our way to Chalice Well Gardens, which are so very beautiful, and stayed for hours. I could sit there all day in this other world – by the sacred wellhead, or the vesica piscic pool, surrounded by colourful new summer flowers, or by the lion’s head fountain or the pilgrims pool. That night we watched Lord of the Rings, and marvelled at the Englishness of Hobbiton, which looked like the Stonehenge landscape with all its barrows, and Bree, which looked like a little village near Oxford – which makes sense being as Tolkien lived there…
Wednesday 20… We went to the nearby town of Wells to visit the impressive (yet slightly creepy in its obscene ornateness and wealth) cathedral, and have the most haphazard “toastie” sandwiches in the most surreal café we’ve ever seen (they scraped the black off our burnt toast, in plain sight, my melted cheese was on the outside of the bread, Juz’s ham concoction was not the work of a sane person, and they had the most vulgar clock ever. Three Little Piggies indeed!). then we went to the Wookey Hole, which I’ve been meaning to go to for years. It’s an amazing cave that you walk through, deep within the earth, with traditions of a witch who lived there, and a stalagmite shaped like her. It was beautiful and eerie, with chambers with lakes in them, and long corridors, and bats! In the afternoon we drove south to Burrowbridge Mump, the baby tor, which seems like a toy, and climbed its steep but smaller sides to the ruined church on top. It is also on the Dragon Path, and the two leylines intersect here before separating and coming back together at the Glastonbury Tor. After dinner we climbed the Tor and huddled together on the grassy top, watching the sun set and the sky flame, freezing but exhilarated. It was so peaceful and calm up there, whereas yesterday it was so wild and powerful and strong. Shifting moods, shifting realities…
Thursday 21… We set out early to drive to Avebury, the biggest (and some say most impressive) stone circle in Britain, passing through pretty green and yellow fields, wooded valleys and little villages on our way. We had a cup of tea in the Red Lion pub, which is situated inside the circle (it never ceases to amaze me that the little village is within the stones, and I loved staying at a B&B in the circle last time I was there). Then we wandered amongst the massive stones (and tiny lambs), laying our hands on them and skipping between the buttercups and bluebells and blowing on dandelion puffballs, before we slipped through a little fairy grove and walked down Kennett Avenue, the old processional way that led to the circle, which is flanked by pairs of huge standing stones, one a diamond and one a pillar stone, representing feminine and masculine energy respectively. And then we walked by more thatched pixie cottages, across a little stone bridge and alongside golden yellow canola fields before climbing the hill to the West Kennett Long Barrow, a Neolithic (circa 3500BCE) burial chamber and long barrow which you can walk inside. It’s fascinating, and I love walking within it, into the corridor to peek at the smaller chambers off to the side, and down to the far chamber, deep within the earth. Later we carried on down to Silbury Hill, the largest manmade mound in Europe, and back to Avebury for more time with the stones (and a tiny little baby bunny we saw nibbling the grass). On the way home we went via another White Horse and Morgan’s Hill, getting back in time to climb Wearyall Hill and still make it up the Tor for another stunning sunset.
Friday 22… Our last day, which is very sad. I wandered down to the new Goddess Hall, and up to the Goddess Temple, both beautiful (and beautifully scented!), and bought myself a little present at one of the magical shops. Then we went to the Well again, and stayed there for hours, then spent our last night up on the Tor, soaking up the sunset, and the wildness, and the soaring ravens, and the moments of silence beneath the roaring wind, and not wanting to come back down. It was dark when we finally did, and our steps were a little less confident than usual, but it was so hard to leave the nurturing energy and its immense power. Power to dream, to look within, to bring up the past then help you resolve it. Ah, my favourite place in this beautiful world…
Saturday 23… We sadly left our little cottage, and our little town, and made our way back to Swindon to drop off the car and get the train to London, and make our way to our little hotel room (at least I didn’t cry when I walked into this one – it was relatively nice, although it has the hardest bed in the world!). We planned to go out for a little wander around the neighbourhood, but of course little walks don’t figure to us, and we’d soon made our way across town, through Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, and down Sloane Street and up Victoria, and suddenly decided to do one of those touristy open bus sightseeing trips, which was amazing – the whole of London unfolding before our eyes, and all the Monopoly sites coming to life. Later we had dinner in a pub called the Shakespeare (of course), then walked down to Westminster, past the parliamentary buildings and Big Ben, and across the Thames to take in the city skyline, all illuminated and pretty against the shining night sky.
Sunday 24… We hot footed it back to Westminster for a boat cruise, but changed our mind once we got there, our quota of being near people totally up. Instead we walked through the city some more, soaking up the atmosphere and the history (and the occasional rain drops), making our way up Park Lane to Piccadilly Circus, then to Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square to visit the lions. We had lunch at the Sherlock Holmes pub (when in Rome…), then went on a Harry Potter walking tour, which was so much fun, and then as night began to fall we did a Jack the Ripper walking tour through the East End, which was a bit spooky ?
Monday 25… We jumped on the tube and raced through the grey morning to Kings Cross Station to take a photo of Platform 9 3/4 for my Harry Potter story, and it’s the cutest thing ever. Very clever on their part! Then we met an old friend for lunch at the café in Hyde Park – and the sun came out, giving us a weird instant tan. Then we hung out down at the Embankment on the Thames until meeting some other friends at South Bank and wandering down to the Globe theatre and having a lemonade in its cute pub…
Tuesday 26… We were very pouty as our last day dawned, but determined to make the most of it. We went back to Australia House (Gringotts Bank in the Harry Potter flicks), then St Paul’s Cathedral, although I just wandered around outside while Juz went in, having seen enough of them to last a lifetime (not to mention the $25 “donation” to go inside). We went down to the Tower of London, and historic old Tower Bridge, then raced over to Earls Court to meet a long-lost friend (ironically the first time I had been to the Aussie conclave was to meet an American). After a series of amusing events we found each other, and had a lovely dinner, catching up on the last three years… and then it was time to go home and pack…
Wednesday 27... We farewelled London, and made our way to the airport and our plane home, flying until late Thursday, and spending all of Cutes's birthday in the air. Lucky he likes airplanes...
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