by Wendy Hawkin | Aug 12, 2017 | healing, history, journal, writing and publishing
This feels like the day after…
The day after the smoke from B.C’s forest fires finally cleared Metro Vancouver. Crouching over the coast like an apocalpytic dragon for the past two weeks, the heat and smoke kept us hiding in our caves. This is the worst fire season since 1958 when 8,560 square km of forest burned; which means, ironically, that this might be “normal” and not a consequence of global warming (though it probably is). Almost 5,000 square km of forest have burned and continue to burn as 148 fires rage throughout the province.
But for the moment, where I stand, the smoke has cleared. White clouds dapple blue skies and I can breathe clean air. I can open my doors and windows, sit outside, and wander the forest and beach. And, for this, I am grateful.
downtrend.com
It also feels like the day after an illness dissipates that’s had you curled and crawling. Like the day after a really bad hangover or a rampaging flu. The day when you feel a sense of hope and everything is just that much sweeter and brighter and richer.
This is the first day in over a week that I’ve felt like myself. I’m still trying to sort out what happened. Was it the final purging of an overwrought nervous system taxed from travel? Fish poisoning from dodgy tuna at Montreal airport? Severe anxiety coupled with a sensitive sensory system? Or all of it combined? All I know is that I feel like I’ve been through an Initiation, like I’ve walked through burning coals and emerged on the other side.
The smoke in my brain is lifting. I can eat and sleep and my anxiety level is dropping. I feel calm and comforted.
And, for this, I am grateful.
by Wendy Hawkin | Aug 6, 2017 | journal, travel
Dear Air Transat,
I am so annoyed with you. Not only did you put my health at risk, you blatantly lied to me and other passengers. You would not listen. You would not help us. You put passengers last. There is no excuse for what you did and an apology won’t cut it. I feel betrayed and I will never book a flight with you again. Ever.
Our flight was scheduled to depart Thursday at 1pm. We all arrived and cued in Dublin. While we were in the cue, word went around that the flight was delayed 9.5 hours. It didn’t come from you. The plane was broken. Better to be broken on the ground than in the air! When we finally got our moment with the poor harried girl taking bags, she gave us alternatives: you can take a taxi into town and we’ll pay for it, or you can have lunch at the airport. We’ll give you 12 Euro each. For nine hours? From someone else, we heard that other passengers were told they could go to a hotel and hang out in the lobby.
By the time we got back to the shuttle, the hotel manager was stopping people from boarding. Their lobby was already full. We had stayed in this hotel the night before so I appealed to him and he let us go back. At the desk, I was told they were not to give out rooms. I offered to pay. I was sick. Thankfully, we were given a room but had to pay for the whole night. This turned out to be a blessing. Before I left at 8:30pm, I had a bad feeling, returned our keys, and told the hotel we were going to the airport but not to give away our room.
On the shuttle back to the airport, the driver told us that our flight was cancelled. Sure enough, when we arrived our bags stood there (thank God) with one man standing guard. We took our bags and were instructed to come back the next morning at 8:00am for an 11am departure. At that point, your rep called our hotel and instructed them to refund the cost of the night’s room. They would comp it. They also threw in dinner. OK. Fair enough. (Other passengers were taken by bus to a hotel, given dinner in a banquet room and a room for the night. The next morning the bus brought them back to the airport).
This is when things went downhill.
We had a connecting flight. Dublin to Montreal and then Montreal to Vancouver. I called Air Transat twice (offices in Ireland and in Canada). Both reps told us that they had no idea when or how we’d get home. Our bags would go with us to Montreal and we were to sort it out there.
We cued for almost two hours. You had two people handling all the economy passengers. In this photo, you can see where we are in zone 8. We had to get to zone 5. Before we left Dublin that morning, a rep at the airport showed me an email on his phone that said: we will do everything to ensure customers flying on from Montreal to Vancouver and Toronto will be on the earliest possible flight. They will most likely fly with West Jet or Air Canada. Good, I thought, we’ll be home soon. West Jet and Air Canada fly all day long. Hurray!
As we were landing in Montreal at 1pm, it was announced that passengers flying to Vancouver would be on Air Canada flight 311 at 8:25pm! Another wait time of 7.5 hours! Surely, there were flights to Vancouver before that. Passengers needing to take the one hour flight from Montreal to Toronto were also booked on an evening flight.
I talked to the rep and explained that I was sick and had to get home as soon as possible. She said, that Air Transat had done their very best to get us on the first possible flight, but it was Friday of a long weekend and all the flights were booked. On appeal, she checked her screen and said that Air Transat had a flight to Vancouver at 7:30pm and there were two seats available. It was an hour less. She sent us upstairs to talk to the supervisor. The rep there spent a lot of time on the phone and even went away to talk to someone else. She came back and said, “No, there are no seats on that flight. There are no earlier flights. Everyone is booked up.” This was the “official” lie.
Then I went to West Jet. They had a 7:30 flight to Vancouver with seats available.
Then I went to Air Canada. First of all, she couldn’t find us in the computer for their 8:35 flight. Air Transat spelled our name wrong. When she eventually found us, she said that they had a 6:30 flight with lots of seats available–26 in fact. But she couldn’t change the ticket, even if I paid the $75 per person fee to change it. Air Transat had booked the ticket and not us, so it couldn’t be changed. She talked to her supervisor. Finally, I begged, and yes, by then, I was crying. “Can I talk to your supervisor? I’m sick and we’ve been two days now trying to get home.” She went away again, and with kind regard, Air Canada booked us standby on the 6:30 flight She took our bags and gave us a boarding pass. Thank you, Air Canada!
So, you see Air Transat, you lied to us. At the gate, we realized that you’d booked all the Vancouver people on the 8:35 flight. We were asked: “Are you a party of seven?” I don’t know what happened to the other five people. You lied to us to save yourself time, and perhaps, money? You created your lies, and then you washed your hands of us.
I finally arrived home at 11pm on Friday–24 hours late. It could have been worse, and I know that other travellers have experienced the horrors of travel. Yesterday, I threw up twice. I can’t sleep. Post-traumatic stress? Perhaps.
But your lies and blatant disregard for passenger comfort are what has ruined you in my eyes. Never again, Air Transat. We are over.
by Wendy Hawkin | Jul 30, 2017 | Ireland, journal, nature, travel
Ireland is rife with beautiful locations: sea vistas, mountains, pasture lands, and rolling fields of grain. One of the best places we stayed was a self-catering cottage in Avoca.
The farm is at the end of a long one-track lane with verge on either side. Finding it was an adventure. The first lane brought us to a farmhouse where the lovely woman explained to us where we needed to go. We were close. Then another woman drove in and said she’d take us there. So we followed her to the right turnoff. I was nervous going down the thousand-year-old laneway because if anyone came at me, there was no way I could back out. Fortunately, we made it in and out three times without running into anyone.
It is an incredibly peaceful scene. The hosts live next door in Holly Farm. Sanchia explained some of the history to me:
The house has been here since the early 1600’s. There was a farm and people already living here then. The same family were here for eight generations before the farm was sold in 1918. It changed hands twice since then until we bought the derelict buildings in 2000.
The Granary was a farm outbuilding used for storing the grain used to feed a small dairy herd. It also held the milk churns before they were collected by the dairy.
The farm was a small one, 80 acres. It is now joined with the neighbour’s farm. He sold the derelict buildings and a couple of acres to us.
The lane is part of what used to be called ” mass paths”, going across hills and farms from outlying areas to the church–our lane went between Ballycoog and Croghan (the big hill with the windmills you can see from the deck) and Avoca church. The lane is possibly 1000 years old.
Croghan Hill is the scene of my research. We climbed it the day before and were now on the other side of it. The scene was remote, but we also felt wonderfully secure and part of the landscape. We were able to sit out on the back deck and enjoy the countryside. The weather is fickle; changing from sun to cloud to rain to wind and back again constantly. One of the more beautiful moments was this rainbow:
We were able to watch DVDs, cook our own dinners, read, and generally make peace with ourselves and our travels. Avoca is the town where Ballykissangel was filmed. I can’t imagine how the film team managed with all their equipment. They must have parked in the large lot across from the church on the hill. There are not many stores there–a touristy Ballykissangel shop, a small grocer, the Fitzgerald pub, a Tourist Info shop with computers/wifi–but Arklow is about a twenty minute drive and has all the shops including Aidi and a Dunne’s store in the mall. We also spent a day hiking in Glendalough, which was gorgeous and is less than an hour’s drive north (remembering that I drive slow on these thin twisty roads).
We loved the animals. Three dogs met us every time we ventured out; in fact, two of them spent the whole day with us when we first arrived. There are also a pair of white geese and a flock of free-ranging ducks. Birds sing, sheep bleat, and the wind whispers through the pastures.
Sanchia and Richard have lovely gardens and she gave us fresh zucchini and cucumbers from her hothouse! She also provided duck eggs, almond milk, butter substitute, gluten-free bread, and condiments. She caters to people with food allergies. Just be sure to let her know in advance.
ducks & dogs
by Wendy Hawkin | Jul 29, 2017 | healing, journal, nature, travel, writing and publishing
This trip to Ireland has been challenging for me because I suffer with Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS). If you don’t know what that is, Dr. Campbell offers
this page. At home, I can control my environment and stay balanced, but on the road every environment comes with hazards. The city is rife with toxic chemicals from cigarette smoke to perfume to diesel exhaust. While every B&B is a potential bomb of scented laundry detergent, fabric softener, perfumes or air fresheners. The symptoms lessen when I leave the area but are persistant; for example, I can taste perfume almost constantly now. I’ve experienced new symptoms over the last couple of weeks: tingling tongue, tremors, fatigue, insomnia, and brain fog. I now carry antihistamines which help with some symptoms and an epi-pen, just in case.
Sadly, this may be my last road trip.
Some folks have been amazingly kind and understanding, especially women who’ve reacted themselves to different chemicals. One woman rewashed all the sheets before I arrived in hot water with no soap. But, let’s face it, anyone accommodating guests has to wash their sheets with detergent and a business can’t afford to use “natural” unscented soaps. Some places that I’ve queried send their laundry out so have no control over what the commercial laundry uses. My daughter says that I should open a B&B for people with sensitivities and allergies.
All of this creates stress and anxiety. I power on, but the threat is always looming.
What can you do in this situation?
Avoid. This is number one and also the biggest challenge. You never know what’s coming around the corner.
Spend as much time as possible outside in the fresh air. I’ve done lots of walking in the pastures and fields of rural Ireland. In Dublin, I had to reverse this process because the downtown core is loaded with smokers, diesel buses, and perfumes. Boys, your cologne and after shave is the worst! One family I met at Uisneach, who have lived in Ireland for thirteen years, moved to the country when their children were born because the particulate level is so high in Dublin.
Communicate. Phone ahead, explain the situation, ask if they use scented fabric softener, and warn your hosts. Airbnb was good enough to refund two nights accommodation when I had to leave because the scents made me sick. Sometimes I feel like a whiner, but health is your priority. If you suffer in silence you will only get worse. Ask if you can see (smell) the room, and if it’s scented, walk away.
Hotels might be slightly better than B&Bs but not always. We checked into a hotel in Waterford because we were unable to find any other accommodation, went to the room, and had to leave within the hour. We both reacted to the old carpets, dust, and smoke in the hallways. That was our worst day yet. We drove another two hours and tried three other B&Bs before we found one that was suitable in another town. Even then we had to make some adjustments.
Air out the room as soon as you can and leave the windows open at night. A couple of places I slept in socks, slippers, pjs, sweaters, and wrapped in blankets, but the country air was fresh. At one location, we were able to find another duvet that had not been freshly washed in fabric softener. Cover the pillow with your clothes, then remember to wash your clothes and hang them out in the fresh air; otherwise, you’ll be packing the scent with you.
Be an advocate. I think that people with MCS have to talk about it. The truth is: these chemicals hurt everyone. People with MCS are just the canaries.
Try and stay balanced. This is difficult at times. I’m also food sensitive (gluten and dairy intolerant) so keeping myself fed is an ongoing challenge. Ireland is quite hip when it comes to food allergies. I saw this sign at the surf shack at Curracloe Beach.
Some restaurants are excellent. One server said, “What would you like? I’ll make you up a plate.”
Another host, left us almond milk, butter substitute, gluten free bread, and fresh free range duck eggs; then brought us fresh zucchini and cucumbers from her greenhouse!
On the other hand, in one small town, after scouting three restaurants, the only thing we could find for supper was french fries and salad. Everything else was breaded, buttered, or cheesed. Tonight we were fortunate to find a Malaysian place in Kinsale (near Cork) and feasted on pad thai and curry!
Take vitamins, meditate, and sleep when you can.
The Outcome?
Despite all of this, I’ve undertaken loads of research, which is why I came here. I’ve learned much about myself and my subject. I’ve met wonderful folks and made new friends. And I still love Ireland, the landscape, the culture, and the people. If you’re planning a trip to this beautiful island, message me and I’ll recommend some people that will look after you.
