BELONGING - 5 Ways to Move Happy
It is November, on a Wednesday that seems more night than day. The rain is blowing sideways in the gale, and I’m standing outside the Irish dancing school in Dublin waiting for the daughter’s lesson to end. I’m dreaming of the warm breeze on my face with the car windows rolled down on the way to Galleon Beach in Antigua wearing denim shorts and a white linen shirt, a string of pearls and my hair wild.
I left home in Ireland at 17 years of age, to learn, to adventure, to work and to find love. I returned 25 years later with a husband, two children, a shipping container full of treasures gathered all over the world and a wealth of creative inspiration. I lived in Scotland, England, Turkey, Australia, France, Switzerland and Antigua. I worked on yachts cruising in the Mediterranean and South Pacific, ski chalets and Caribbean villas. My husband is from New Zealand, our children were born in Switzerland and grew up skiing in the Swiss Alps and then diving in the Caribbean Sea.
Is my deep connection to the land in Ireland big enough for all of us now?
It takes an ensemble playing in harmony to move countries, including shipping agents, landlords, every single one of your family and friends on both sides of the move and plenty of tissues and perhaps a cocktail for when the children have gone to bed amidst the packing boxes. The conductor for our most recent relocation was a life coach - for mental fortitude and exacting guidance, without whom I would have remained stuck with one foot firmly planted on either side of the Atlantic and a vacant expression on my face.
As it turns out, I’m quite happy to be living in Ireland now. Not deliriously so. However, it IS the first country that I have desperately wanted to buy a house to live in and leave the plethora of rentals behind, and I think that is saying something.
Having spent a little time in a lot of places, I have devised a masterplan of great elegance to adapt chameleon-esque to our constantly changing habitat.
Number One. Always take a Picnic.
This may not seem obvious at first, but I assure you that friends are key to happiness and food is key to making friends. Picnics are low key whimsical entertaining at their best, soggy sandwiches at their worst, but the Famous Five never left home without them, so neither should we.
The irresistible crack of wicker and the sight of a tartan blanket after a muddy walk sets my tummy rumbling. Justified by tired feet and rosy-cheeked from the wind, I relish the prospect of guilt-free finger-licking, a mug of tomato soup, apples, gingerbread and shortbread, cheese and pickle or just plain ham sandwiches, all of it - as much as we can eat.
It was a sunny day and we arranged to meet in the morning early at the beach. The tide was conducive, if not the water temperature in the Irish Sea. We were new in the area and they were kind. I pulled out a flask of hot chocolate and some croissants for dipping. The children added marshmallows to their mugs and quickly forgot the cold. A week later, she brought the coffee and a fresh apple and walnut loaf.
Harking back to the other side of the ocean in Antigua at our first Carnival parade, we stood at the roadside watching dance troops, stilt walkers and great boom boxes pass by. Our new friends, who were established on the island, carried chiller boxes filled with beer and chicken rotis. These boxes came with the added advantage that one person at a time could perch atop and rest their swelling feet. Who knew a parade would go on so long? Those in the know, always bring picnics.
2. Number Two. Celebrate the small things Big
I get mildly hysterical pleasure from a table exquisitely laid. There must be pretty linens, bits from the garden, tall glasses and personal touches – an origami note for the first day of Spring or a handwritten menu to say I love you, a tiny gift for the first day back at school or the first clue in a treasure hunt.
I want to celebrate the midsummer but there is an outside chance every day that it might rain in Ireland. Today I woke up to sunshine and sent the text to my Whatsapp friends, “Come at 2, we’ll sit in the garden”. A flurry of egg whites to create pavlova, the yolks mixed with more to make quiche, a huge salad, slices of bread and middle Eastern dips, it’s time to set the table. I enlisted the children and we carried it to the shade of the willow tree and covered it in sheets, table cloth and napkins. A pitcher of Pimms and “What’s the occasion?” A Really Long Day to spend with friends, I say.
The small moments that make little days feel special rather than big days like Christmas when We All Must, are those that magically mean so much more.
3. Number Three. Feather your Nest
Even in transience, seek permanence. Places and days are fleeting but the home that you create, if even only for a few months or weeks, must be a calling card to your muse.
I left the yacht in Antibes in November, with a backpack and the keys to a flat in the old quarter. It was sparse, even when I sprinkled the book I was reading and a pashmina on the bed. I had invited him for dinner. Him who would one day, unbeknownst to both of us at the time, become my husband. He is a chef, so I panicked a little about food and settled on risotto – one pan, and it pairs well with white wine. I saw a wildly beautiful painting, abstract and colourful, on the way past the brocante and offered the man some euros. He accepted and threw in a pot plant that seemed out of place amongst the baskets and crocks. On the foldaway table ‘at home’ I propped the painting against the wall near the plant and lit candles. The risotto was a little salty, but the rest, you can say, is ‘la vie’.
Two children and two continents later and it is four years now in our house in Ireland. The walls are covered with paint colours we chose bravely and memories from everywhere, and there are cushions with patterns from here and there that I make as an expression of my journey, and a music stand, a big bean bag and a cat.
4. Number Four. Write a Recipe Book
The backpack that I mentioned above had a folder in it, filled with recipes from every place. My bible of sorts, from a rocky start at Uni (mostly toast) to employment as a cook (hugely under qualified, but I learnt how to make large quantities of salsa dip) and eventually a guide to nourishment and menus that worked for me. It was my back-up plan, if I couldn’t get the job I wanted, then at least I wouldn’t starve. And then I married a chef.
But I Still can’t think what to make for dinner on a Wednesday. Without fail, I flick through the newspaper clippings, scrawled notes and laboriously typewritten pages to remind me of a place and a food and I cook it and we are all happy. You really should write one too. It could be a heirloom one day, if you do it nicely.
5. Number Five. Make peace with the seasons
It is September in Ireland, my first Winter home looms ahead. Already I am colder than I could have imagined. I met a friend at the cinema and afterwards tried to say goodbye in the car park but words failed me as my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Tonight, I am clutching a hot water bottle to my chest as I make a dash to the electric blanket in bed. The cat follows me.
Adapt, is our mantra. The correct clothes make sense. New sports to fuel the brain. A club to meet with on long weekends. A hill to climb. A wave to ride. Sweet peas to plant in Spring and carrots to harvest in August.
This journey across the world to a little place has opened our hearts. Ireland, the land I grew up in, is a place of magic and history, a land of storytellers, farmers and now big tech. Even as a child I felt like an outsider. The difference now is that I’m comfortable being outside … and I carry the master-plan.
Is that enough for us all? The children dream of snowy mountains and warm sandy beaches. Neither are here, and we can’t particularly count on the weather. Yet, any impromptu opportunity for an outdoor adventure and we all rally to our important tasks. “You load the car,” I say to my husband, “And I’ll make a picnic”. The children need a checklist of hats, jackets, Something To Do On The Way, and we’re off!
