Showing posts with label irish ferries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label irish ferries. Show all posts

Monday, 15 October 2012

Aero & Flurry's Big Trip

This is the journey my Boys endured.
Having been collected from Kingsland at lunchtime on Friday, they were taken to George Mullins' holding yard in Bagenalstown, Co Carlow.  They spent the night and most of Saturday there, while the rest of the horses for the trip were gathered from around the country - fourteen horses, in all.  In the evening, they were driven to Rosslare, where they boarded the ferry for Pembroke - I think that particular boat docks at about 1am.  They crossed the full width of Wales and England en route to Dover, where they were unloaded and stabled for the whole day, to give them a rest - about eleven hours, we were told.  Back onto the truck in time to catch the 9.30pm boat which got them into Calais just after midnight (remember there's a one hour time difference, the crossing is about 1.5 hours) and then there was the long drive to St Trivier-sur-Moignans, just North of Lyon. We were waiting to meet them, they had about ten minutes mooching around picking at grass, then they walked (as willingly as ever, I must add) into our trailer and we set off on the last leg.  Five hours later we arrived at their new home in Reillanne, just over three days after their journey began.
Eleven horses in the truck and three in the trailer

Waiting anxiously for the first sight of the Boys

Kevin
It turned out I kind of knew one of the drivers.  He was based in Cork about twenty years ago, working for a chap called Denis Duggan who owned a riding school not far from us, which later became our regular Winter show jumping venue.  I'm sure I was introduced to this guy - Kevin - at some stage, but it clearly didn't make much of an impression on either of us.  This time, though, he instantly endeared himself to me by saying Aero and Flurry "are a pair of angels to do anything with."  Smile!


First glimpse of Aero.  A bit rubbed on his ribs where he was leaning up
against the doors, but otherwise no marks.

Me and my "son."  He looked tired.

Flurry was next, looking as cheery as ever!

Hi Mum!
This lucky horse was at journey's end.  All of the others
had at least another five hours to go

Ahhh!  That's Grass!

In the box and ready to roll once again.
Aero caused me some concern by seeming so tired and then by having a slight nosebleed when we stopped to check them along the way.  We finally arrived at Reillanne and unloaded, earning another compliment, this time from Alexandrine's father, who remarked that they were "Bien dressé" (well, they are!) On the way to their paddock, Aero walked happily beside me, alert and taking everything in - maybe he was starting to feel better because he knew he was with us and no longer in the hands of strangers?

We turned them out and left them be, while I took the LSH and the Hyperterriers home and cleaned out the horsebox, then I went and just spent some time with them.  It was nice.  Aero was being needy and picking on Flurry a bit, but Flurry got a few cuddles from me anyway and we shared an apple.  Alexandrine arrived then, to be introduced to her new tenants, and gave them a couple of carrots, too.
Aero saying hello to the new neighbour

Flurry sneaking some hay while Aero wasn't looking - Aero is being quite bossy with him.
The boys and their abri (shelter) Aero is mostly lost in the shadows,
the head on the right belongs to the neighbouring horse
What wonderful, kind, tolerant animals they are to accept it all with such grace and still be happy to see me when I visit them again.

I am in awe of them.

I hope they like their new home.

The arena in the foreground and the boys' abri with the Alpes Maritimes in the distance, frosted with the first snow of the season

Thanks to all at George Mullins for making it go so smoothly & thanks to the LSH for the unloading photos.

Monday, 1 October 2012

Nous Sommes Ici! (We're Here!)

As I write, Cinnamon is stretched out on the couch beside me
Zzzzzzinnamon
Cookie is curled up in what she deems to be an ideal dog bed (it's a pouffe!)
Cookie on the pouffe - this reminds me of 101 Dalmations (the book by Dodie Smith) where, after escaping from Cruella DeVille, the puppies all slept on hassocks in a church over night and in the morning, the verger thought there was something wrong with the church boile, because on each hassock, there was a perfectly round (puppy-sized) patch of soot
In the corner of the room, the LSH is working.  It's just like home!

Our journey was completely painless, thanks to Irish Ferries' ability to seamlessly absorb a load of extra vehicles, passengers and animals.  I've never seen their kennels so full - up to now, Cookie & Cinny have had a double sized large kennel to share, but this time they were in a single.  No matter, they were remarkably content.  Cookie was even relaxed enough to "use the facilities" each time we took them out for a leg stretch, and Cinnamon eventually condescended to have a wee, too, about four hours before we docked.
Driving off the Oscar Wilde in Cherbourg - note the Brittany Ferries ship tied up on the right
The only minor issue that we had was with the sailing time.  The last two times we sailed with Irish Ferries, we left mid-afternoon and arrived the following morning, but, this time, the Oscar Wilde left Rosslare at 9.30pm and arrived in Cherbourg at 4.30pm.  We had 500km to cover before we reached our hotel in Vierzon.  Dinner was a sandwich picked up along the way - a far cry from the luxury of pulling into a hotel at 6pm with plenty of time to relax and freshen up before a delicious dinner.

We arrived at the hotel at 10.40pm and fell into bed.  We still had another 650km to go, so we were up at 7am and on the road before 8.

It was a beautiful morning, crisp and fresh,
Near Vierzon
The mountains of the Auvergne, with Puy-de-Dome shrouded in cloud just to left of centre
starting a long descent
although apparently the weather was not so good in Provence!
What lay ahead of us, according to my brother
Jeepy was struggling with the heavy load, particularly in the mountains after Clermont-Ferrand, so we went easy on the throttle and let her find her own speed up the hills.  We slowed down a lot and burned a lot of fuel, but eventually we left the hills behind us and descended towards St Etienne, thankfully, with a still-functioning old Landcruiser.

Joining the Autoroute du Soleil at Lyon felt like we were nearly "home", but there was still a long way to go.  We ran into some of that rain-belt just before Lyon and the skies remained very overcast for the rest of the journey, but temperatures were a toasty 18C - I think that's as warm as it got in Cork all summer!

Our old friend Mont Ventoux, who watched over the first 200km of Le Big Trek, peered over the horizon just after we passed Orange - now it really felt like we were close!

At last, we arrived in a rain-washed and deserted Apt - half an hour to go!  The landscape became ever more familiar, this Cabanon selling fruit and veg was just being built while we were here last winter.
Then we could see La Gardette in the distance, with a cloud shrouded Grand Luberon to the right
La Gardette, which overlooks Céreste, on the left, with Le Grand Luberon on the right
and before we knew it, we were at the roundabout in Céreste.
La Belle Cour, our home for three months last winter!
This time, though, we still had a bit further to go, so we continued out the East side of Céreste, through this wonderful tree-lined section of the D900
until FINALLY, after 52 hours of travelling, we arrived at Les Granons and our home for the next year.
...just as a mighty thunderstorm descended and the heavens opened!  Plans for unloading were deferred to the following morning and we just unpacked the basics needed for ourselves and the dogs.

The house is lovely, here's a quick tour.  This is the kitchen, looking towards the door pictured in the exterior shot.
It's all open plan, there's a dining area beside the kitchen
 and a little sitting room with a big wood-burning stove off that.
There's a bedroom downstairs
and an "under the stairs" cubby which is a great dog bedroom!
 This corridor leads to a back door, loo and utility room
and on the other side of the utility room is this enormous storage area.  This is where I'll keep most of my horse gear.
Upstairs, then, there's another bedroom, which we have appropriated.
It has a lovely terrace off it, which was very wet, with a very cloudy view of Le Grand Luberon on the day we arrived.
Then there's this sort of landing area
with really cool stairs leading nowhere.
And finally, there's the TV room/office area.
Well, actually, not finally.  There's also the Bergerie underneath the house itself, which used to contain animals but now contains the landlords cars and motorbikes.  There's also a little garden and a summer house, which is like a teeny-weeny little chalet, and could probably house any visiting young people who want to feel like they're camping.
The packed up horsebox
Today was our first full day here. We unloaded the jeep and horsebox first thing this morning, and I've spent most of the day unpacking.  It's about 70% done now, I'll get a lot more done tomorrow, though I'll leave the horse gear for a while - I need to figure out just how and where I will keep it. I'm thinking I'll keep the smelly rugs in the Bergerie and everything else in the big storeroom.

The other thing I really need to do is a big shopping, so tomorrow I'm off to Manosque.

And so, a new normality evolves!

Saturday, 29 September 2012

Wow, that was Hard


In the manic rush of painting, cleaning and packing that has been the last two months, I'd pretty much blocked out thoughts of how much we'd be leaving behind.  It was forcefully brought home to me over the last two days as we said our goodbyes.  

Leaving our home of twenty years was surprisingly easy.  Saying goodbye to friends and family was a killer.  Thanks for all the help, au revoir gifts, phone calls, text messages, Facebook messages and HUGS!  I've never had so many great hugs in all my life!  I’ll miss you guys - if it doesn’t work out, you will absolutely be the best part about coming back.

Meanwhile, plan your visits, mes amis!


Thursday, 27 September 2012

We Lose 24 Hours

Are you paying attention?  Did you notice that the countdown timer has suddenly leaped forward by a day?

We had a lovely plan for our departure.  We were due to sail out of Cork Harbour on the Brittany Ferries vessel, Pont-Aven, at 16:00 on Saturday the 29th of September.  We had visions of standing on deck, waving to family and friends who had come to see us off, as we watched Ringaskiddy slip away from us.  We would watch Monkstown Hill (where I've ridden many's the time at Hitchmough's Riding School) fade into the distance, we would pass the pretty town of Cobh and we'd get a wonderful view of Cobh Cathedral, where the YD's boyfriend has been working up to recently.  Sailing on out of Cork Harbour, we would see Anne's old house in Crosshaven, from which we watched the Tall Ships Race enter the harbour in 1991 - a sight I will never forget.  Then we would pass Roche's Point and Trabolgan Holiday Village, where we had many happy days when the girls were very small.  Finally, we might catch a glimpse of Guileen, a tiny seaside village which gave its name to my in-laws' family home in Dalkey.  Then we would retire indoors, to enjoy the excellent food and service which, I have been reliably informed, one will find on board the Pont-Aven.

All very poignant, all very romantic.  All very unlikely, now.

Brittany Ferries have been attempting to introduce cost-cutting measures, in order to remain competitive in these tough times.  Their crew (only some of them, I am told) are not happy, and have hit the company with a series of Wildcat Strikes.  The response of management, after four months of disruption, was to tie up their fleet until the dispute is resolved.

This happened last Friday.  The Pont-Aven sails in and out of Cork every Saturday, and last Saturday's sailings were instantly affected.  Apparently, people travelling to Ireland were first of all told to travel to Saint-Malo, but the ferry could not dock there, so they were once again contacted en-route, and asked to proceed to Cherbourg, where they were all accommodated on the Irish Ferries vessel, the Oscar Wilde, the following day.

Those travelling from Ireland to France - which would have included us, had we planned on leaving a week earlier - were diverted to Rosslare, which is the home port of the Oscar Wilde.  Priority in transferring bookings from Brittany Ferries to Irish Ferries was given to French people returning home, so I'm not sure what they would have made of "Irish people emigrating" - maybe they would have fitted us in!

We've been waiting all week to hear if the dispute has been resolved or not.  We're still waiting.  I've been keeping an eye on the Irish Ferries vessel, the Oscar Wilde, too.  She sails on Fridays and Sundays - Friday will get us to Provence a day earlier than planned, Sunday a day later.  We had a two-day overlap with our landlords planned, to allow them to show us the quirks and foibles of their house, so we decided to focus on the earlier departure date.

I've been watching for any signal that Friday's sailing was filling up, and today, I spotted that all of the two star cabins were booked.  My nerve cracked!  Given that we have a high trailer, it seems to me (maybe I'm wrong) that there will be less space available for our sort of vehicle, hence my panic, but long story short, we've jumped ship and are now booked on the Oscar Wilde to sail out of Rosslare Harbour on Friday the 28th at 9.30pm.

We're leaving our house at 1pm, meeting the YD and Granny for a quick lunch and then leaving Cork at 2pm.  It's only a three hour drive to Rosslare, but we also want to pop in to see the LSH's sister and mother on the way.

So no last, lingering views of Cork Harbour, no five-star food and service with Brittany Ferries.  Just the now-familar drive to Rosslare and the now-familar Oscar Wilde.

Oh well, so long as we get there...