There is no place like home

Home is where the heart is, it is where you hang your hat.

In the lead up to Christmas, many of us around the world will make the long or short trip home to spend the season with family and friends. And if we cannot make it home, it will certainly be on our minds on December 25.

So what is the big deal – where, who, what is home?

Some of us travel the world to find that something special only to find that it was at home all along, nestled amongst the rugged hills and expansive lakes or over the apartment block, across the estate wall and hidden down the back of a 20 year old couch.

Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to. 

-John Ed Pearce

Home can be a building, a set of people, a memory, a feeling.

In Ireland we pride ourselves on providing that 'home' feeling. Countless times I have heard visitors a few days away from leaving the country sigh and say “I feel like I am home.”

Third generation Irish all over the world talk about coming home – although they might never have stepped foot on the island, why?

The funny thing is that we usually leave our own country to discover a new culture, to experience something different, only to take refuge in places, people and things that remind us of our own homeland.

For me, I think it is acceptance, a feeling of belonging. Somewhere where you don't have to try and fit in, you automatically do. Of course memories play a big part – positive and negative ones.

But if your home place is knocked down, or the people you grow up with move away, if you can no longer see the places you once played in, or touch the people you once loved then where is home?

Home is where your heart is.

Maybe that is why Ireland is referred to many as home – maybe we steal hearts. Or maybe we welcome people in, allow them to relax, to be accepted, to get comfortable – to belong. I hope we do.

Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin. 

There is no fireplace like you own fireplace – There is no place like home.

Winter Solstice and the old New Year

Happy New Year! 

WHAT you don't celebrate the New Year on December 21^st?

Strange.

5,000 years ago in Ireland, the Stone Age Farmers would celebrate the start of a new year, the beginning to the end of Winter and the prospect of a bright new season on December 21, the Winter Solstice.

Light entering the tomb.

Scientifically it is the period when the earth's axial tilt is furthest away from the sun, but in lay woman's terms it is the shortest day of the year, the longest night making way for longer days.

All over the world different cultures interpret the event differently, in Ireland we believe it was an event of huge celebration, sacrifice, prayers and more than likely some alcohol, dancing and general merriment!

The event was such a big deal that 500 years before the pyramids of Giza were constructed, Stone Age farmers had co-operated to build Newgrange Passage Tomb, in the sacred Boyne Valley in Co Meath. The magnificent ancient temple which was re-discovered in the 17^th century still conceals secrets about it's exact function.

One thing we do know is that it was built exactly to capture the special Winter Solstice. Every year on December 21 at approx 9am a narrow beam of light enters the roof box, travels down the passage and fills the rear chamber with light. The extraordinary occasion lasts only 17 minutes.

Newgrange Passage Tomb
(c) fifiheavey

To imagine the thought, work and effort that went into capture this moment 5,000 years ago blows my mind. And it certainly places a huge significance around the Winter Solstice and December 21. Of course the end of a bitter winter, of almost hibernation and the prospect of longer days and more sun for a population that relied so heavily on the land for survival is epic. But I think there was more to the event than that, something spiritual, a rebirth of life.

Roof box where the sun light enters during Winter Solstice above the entrance to the tomb.
(c)fifiheavey 

This year 31,531 people applied in the Winter Solstice lottery to be chosen to see the event at Newgrange. (No I didn't get it!)

The sun enters the tomb from December 19 -23, but only fills the entire chamber on December 21. 50 names are randomly picked, and a group of ten get to see the captured sun on each day.

What a way to start the new year before it even begins!

To apply for the 2012 lottery enter here.

Get away, run away

Do you have a runaway place? A specific location you have bookmarked in your mind that in a time of crisis you can call upon. Somewhere to get away from it all, a site where you will find inspiration, serenity and hope?

This may seem like a strange idea, most people probably don't forecast a crisis in their life, they don't prepare for a doomsday, a catastrophe, a life changing event, or even a slight break down.

I have.

St John's Lake, Co Leitrim
(c) fifiheavey

I know there will come a point in my life when I will need to escape, maybe for a few hours, a day, weekend, a week or even in the extreme six months. I know this because the universe is guaranteed to throw some rotten eggs along life's journey. And when something happens, something that unhinges my normal daily rhythm I will need to stop, think and re-organise. In order to this I will need to runaway, to my chosen place and ponder.

Tasmania
(c) fifiheavey

Hence, my runaway place. But I can't just have one place, depending on the problem, the time, my budget, life circumstances, I need to have a few options:

A few hours - this place needs to be close by, easily assessed and cheap. For me it is on top of a no longer used reservoir tank beside my homeplace. I have used this place quite often to ponder things over, from it I see into at least four different Irish counties, I see towns, mountains, roads, houses and cars. The air is clear and fresh and with almost no disturbance. All I need to get there is a pair of wellies!

A day – a whole day to discuss the pros and cons, to debate with myself. A place of beauty and serenity is needed here and most importantly silence. In Ireland the best place for all three is Glendalough, Co Wicklow. The valley of the two lakes has a monastic site and round tower and is perfect place to listen to your inner self while taking in the rugged landscape.

A weekend- a few days to really indulge in deep thought. With this amount of time I need to really evaluate life. Here I have a choice of two destinations: Athens and Rome. Both places hark back to the beginning of civilisation. Ancient ruins, deep excavations, narrow streets and excellent food. Perfect places to seek inspiration and yet also realise how small me and my problems are in the scheme of things.

Trevi Fountain, Rome
(c) fifiheavey

A week- a mini break down, a need for escape and a quest to find answers. To re-discover what is important, to re-organise priorities. Israel is a must. It amazed me in a few days, imagine a whole week? If I went looking for answers, I believe I could find them here, here in the Holy Land, where the majority of world religions converge and intersect. The country, although controversial is special.

Dome of the Rock and Wailling Wall, Jerusalem

Six months- this must be serious! Things must have really went belly up and I can only imagine that my mind is in a jumble, that there are plenty of voices shouting to heard, but no one is listening. This sort of situation demands only one location: India. I have not been there, I know very little about it but have heard and read about people who have had some amazing experiences there. Thousands of people seek spirituality here, submerge themselves in prayer, meditation and thought and re-emerge the better from it.

So if you see me packing my bags for India – stay clear and wish me well!

Do you have a runaway place?

City vs Country

I love cities, I love the noise, the pace, lights, people and 24/7 entertainment.

Cities are sexy.

But after a visit to Dublin's Fair City a few weekends ago, I have started to rethink my perception.

Because I also love silence, simplicity, space and most of the beautiful aspect of no traffic!

Maybe I am getting older, maybe I have no patience what so ever or maybe I need to own up to being a through and through bogger.* But in the war of city vs country I think country is edging its way out.

People everywhere! Taksim Square, Istanbul
(c) fifiheavey

Born in London but reared in the country side I have spent all my life wanting to live in a city. When I got the chance to do so in the best city in the world: Melbourne I loved every minute of the five months I spent there. And since my return to Ireland have dreamed of one more chance at city living.

Why? Because of everything. Everything a city offers to a young lady like myself. Thousands of people flashing before my eyes every day, never ending possibilities to spend my evenings and 24/7 entertainment. Close proximity to shops, events and glamorous venues.

Who wouldn't want to the live the high life?!

But in my fictional city life I had forgotten about the downside to any city.

A need for patience,a tolerance of traffic, fumes, too many people, too many places, no silence, no reflection and because of the high cost of living – no money.

I often quarrel about having to drive 30 -60 minutes for a good night out, or to an event, or to my favorite shop. But it takes the same amount of time or longer to cross Dublin city, or indeed any city and don't even get me started on public transport!

Plenty of space in the country. Downpatrick head, co Mayo
(c)fifiheavy

Is Dublin amazing – yes. Did I have a super good time – yes. Will I return soon – yes.

Do I want to live there ... eh no not really.

When travelling I love cities, they have so much variety, so much to see and they really showcase their culture, but for a more stable residence I think I will have to pick country over city.... for now!

City Vs Country – which one wins for you?

*Irish derogatory term used by city people to describe those who reside in the country side, whether or not the land they live on is in fact bog. A bog is not a toilet facility but a wetland that accumulates peat, a deposit of dead plant material that when harvested can be used as fuel.

Christmas cards and Seasons greetings

I love Christmas cards, picking them out, writing, sending and receiving them. I love the idea they represent and the small smile they produce. I even like sticking the stamps on and mailing them.

So when I heard an acquaintance exclaim:

“Christmas cards- what a waste of money. This year I am gonna just send around an email.”

I was aghast.

I am not anti-technology, but this really stopped me in my tracks. Enough is enough.

Not Christmas cards – no way.

I seamlessly transferred phone calls into texts, I write emails instead of letters, I gratefully moved to digital cameras, stopped flicking through catalogs and now shop on line, send tweets, 'like' everything without an explanation why and have a virtual movie collection.

But I will not give up on Christmas cards.

Seasons greetings from those far and near are special. When you receive a lovely red envelope, with a colourful card inside and a personal message inscribed, you smile. You smile because that person whether just two doors down or two thousand miles away took the time to wish you festive greetings. They picked the card, searched for your address and sat down with a pen to wish you Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays.

Distant relative, old work colleague, best friend or indeed someone who once shared a moment or two with – they remembered you. In this the happiest of seasons, they took the time out of their busy work schedule or personal crisis to send you a smile, a wink or a hug just in time for Christmas.

Maybe the message was short, a lengthy letter or indeed an invite to re-connect- but it was personal.

Christmas cards were made to remember those in some way have touched your life – by just being an annoying aunt, for someone who made room on their couch for you or for a friend or loved one.

Whether it crosses several oceans or just a doorstep, make someone smile – send a Christmas card.

Not welcome in Istanbul

Istanbul, previously known as Byzantium and or Constantinople is a cultural and historical hub.

It is the only metropolis in the world to sit on two continents - Asia and Europe and because of this has enjoyed and endured one of the most interesting history in the world. It is a maze of beautiful architecture and promotes itself as a “modern Muslim city.”

This place sounds right up my alley – history, culture, architecture, religion – it even has a reputation for a unique night life.

Taksim Square, Istanbul
(c) fifiheavey

But when I visited last month, it didn't live up. It didn't even stand up.

Because I didn't feel welcome.

The city is amazing, old and new buildings contrast, streets wind up and down, history pores from almost every street corner. And yet it did not come together for me.

The colours and smells from the late night shopping around Taksim Square were intoxicating, the puffs of coloured smoke and strange taste of the hookahs entertained and the music pumped all night long.

On the other side of the city, the Blue and the Suleymaniye Mosque dominated, they commanded respect. The Grand Bazzar, Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia - all were fascinating.

Taking a puff of a Hookah
(c) fifiheavey

But I didn't feel safe, I didn't feel welcome and above all I didn't feel respected.

I love finding myself in a new city, the strangeness, the unknown, the difference. You can't beat being somewhere for the very first time. Yes you must take photos, see the sights and dine in local cuisine. But you must also wander, drift away, tuck your camera away and observe, blend in and see the city as a passer by.

The shouting didn't bother me, the hassle didn't affect me, the comments didn't even take a flinch.

It was the looks.

As I walked alone down the streets (appropriately dressed), trying to get my bearings, politely smiling and shaking my head to various offers from street stalls, I felt weary and anxious.

The sellers were unlike the men in Marrakesh who forced you to buy something you merely glanced at, they were aggressive about it.

They did not appreciate my lone status, I felt like it insulted them. But even in a larger company with men at the table they showed no greater respect. They stared suspiciously – not grateful at all for our custom.

The best kebabs in town
(c) fifiheavey

My thoughts on Istanbul are surprising to me, I am usually so open to cultural differences, to a conflict in ideals, manners and beliefs. But what I experienced in Istanbul was stronger than a difference. It was stand off-ish.

I felt like they wanted me to know – you and your ideals are not welcome here.

My friends felt the same way, acquaintances back home also understood my explanations.

“You are not in Europe now” a friend was told during an exchange in a bar one night.

He was right, of course – but we were in the former European Capital of Culture, in a country that once campaigned to be part of the European Union.

Two trams pass by at the gates to Galatasary High Square on Istikal Street
(c) fifiheavey

Did I miss the point – have I got Istanbul all wrong?

Having faith in Israel

Question of the week: “So aside from being arrested for trying to bring aid to Gaza what else would take you (forced or not) to Israel?”

Despite what you may read, see or believe Israel is much more than a conflict zone. It is one of the most historic, cultural and above all spiritual places I have ever visited.

Whether you go seeking answers to divine questions, want to discover ancient history and culture or need to see the fraught political and religious scene for yourself – the Israeli experience is one that will amaze, confuse and above all intrigue you.

This is one destination which I would implore you to research before you visit. A basic idea of the history of the country is really not enough. If you don't put the effort in before you leave home, you will be left bewildered once within Israeli borders (defined or not).

Although religion and spirituality is interesting to everyone, those who believe, who have faith in a a greater being, part of a church or not should find their visit to Israel extra special.

Each region in Israel is different geographically, but one of the prettiest area is that of Galilee, here where Jesus was reared you will find Nazareth, Mount Beatitudes, Capernaum, the Sea of Galilee and Jordan River. A beautiful area, the Sea of Galilee (a lake) looks just how those who would imagine it from the bible – a working lake with fishermen still hauling in fish.

For me the place which stood out in this area was the River Jordan, where Jesus was baptised. It looked like paradise with flowers in bloom, otters and fish swimming merrily and people singing hymns as those dressed all in white descended down the steps into the important water.

The Jordan River, Israel
(c) fifiheavey

Close by to the Dead Sea (a must visit) in the south is the majestic Masada mountain. An important site for the Jews, Masada was a site of mass suicide by a group of rebel Jewish who would not allow themselves to be captured by the Romans. It is difficult not to feel proud of those rebels, to admire their will and to reflect on the Jewish people on top of that desert fortress.

At Masada
(c) fifiheavey

Jerusalem. The word evokes emotions, feelings and pictures that probably differ for everyone. Some people see Jesus dying on a cross, others see the Wailing Wall or the Dome of the Rock. Others again see violence and destruction. But no matter how you feel about this place, it is epic.

Religion is central here, but so is history.

The ancient city is surrounded by walls, inside it is a maze of tiny streets, of Jewish, Christan, Muslim and Armenian quarters, school children, trades people, pilgrims ans tourists. Despite the outward appearance this is a working live city.

Outside the great walls, the Garden of Gethsemane is an important site for Christians. Although the garden is disappointing, the church makes up for it. Inside the town, I was let down by the lack of a table in the Room of the Last Supper, but did not expect to see the tomb of King David underneath the building.

The Stone of Anointing, also known as The Stone of Unction, which claims to be the spot where Jesus' body was prepared for burial.
(c) fifiheavey

And then there is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It is massive, it is dark and bright, you shuffle upstairs and down, you see blood stains on stones, wood from crucifixes, alters and shrines. And in the middle is the tomb, the tomb of the resurrection.

“Here Jesus was crucified in the middle of two others – and here is where he resurrected.”

Simple to say, not so easy to comprehend.

But there it is, in front you, you can touch the stone, you can see the sacred decorations, hear the wailing pilgrims, smell the incense.

Looking up at the Wailing Wall
(c) fifiheavey

Away from the intensity of the Holy Sepulchre is the Wailing wall. Mysterious and majestic, it beckons you, you move closer, you touch it – see the requests, hear the crying. And it is special.

The glare from the gold roof of the Dome of the Rock, commands your respect and your intrigue.

No all your questions will not be answered in Israel – but ask the right ones and you may be enlightened.