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While much of my time in London was spent helping my friend, my fellow Australians and I did manage to visit the big three museums - the Museum of Natural History, the Victoria and Albert, and the British Museum.

This looks more like a cathedral than a museum. It's a monument to the adventurous scientists of the nineteenth century.
This looks more like a cathedral than a museum. It's a monument to the adventurous scientists of the nineteenth century.

I refuse to use the word iconic as it is so often mis-used these days, but these three museums are the ultimate anywhere in the world. How often do we hear, or see, "It's in the British Museum"? These museums really are the top of the tree, the standard by which all others are measured. ...continue reading "London from a Reno Point of View (Part 2)"

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Last week I wrote about getting bogged down in the job hunting process, and how destructive and demoralising it has been on a personal level.

Flower Garden
The Flower Garden, Greenwich. It was a dull day, but the flowers made up for it.

The good news is that I've found paid employment which starts on Monday, 7th September in Bournemouth. More on that later, once I get used to being gainfully employed again. For now though, I can tell you that it's not accounting or in any way related to it. Of course, after turning off all the job alerts I've been contacted five times in three days by agencies wanting to put me forward for quite lucrative positions, all of which I've had the great joy of declining. ...continue reading "The Good News & the Very Good News"

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It's Sunday evening, and I'm writing this at my new house sit in Woolwich in the Greater London area. Tomorrow morning I'll return to the increasingly familiar routine of job hunting. Tonight I can afford a couple of hours to review photos and write.

On Friday afternoon I took what could well be my last opportunity to walk from Chelmsford to the village of Writtle in Essex. Chelmsford is the county town of Essex, and Writtle, while only a mile or two from it, is a completely separate village, with its own separate history.

Writtle
Cottages in Writtle

My walk took me along the banks of the River Can and through the rose gold barley fields of the agricultural college. Soon I was amongst ancient cottages and walking up the main street, past the village green (complete with duck pond) to the pub. Food had finished by the time I arrived, so I had a snack at the village tea room instead.

All delightful, then a shorter walk back along the main road to Chelmsford, and once again I was in a twenty first century city. ...continue reading "Grieving for the “Good Old Days”"

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I spent last Friday on the smallest of the Aran Islands, Inisheer, also known as  Inis Oírr in Irish or Inis Oirthir or Inis Thiar, depending on the website you use. Many names for a very small place.

The ferry from Doolin
The ferry docked at the village on Innisheer.

Looking back, I wonder how a lump of limestone at the edge of the Atlantic can be such a magical place, but it is. I spent most of the day walking country roads edged by stone walls. Like the rest of Ireland, there's a surprise around every corner - a boy leading a horse, a wall of wildflowers, a view of a lighthouse or a shipwreck or an ancient fort. ...continue reading "A Day on Inisheer"

Perhaps I'm spending too much time on my own lately, but I've had a very strange week. As this blog sets out to be as much about my personal journey as my physical one, I'll tell you about it.

In many places the trees meet over the road. this photo has not been enhanced in anyway, it really is this green.
In many places the trees meet over the road. I would love to have taken a picture, but of course I couldn't stop. This photo has not been enhanced in anyway, it really is this green.

On Sunday afternoon I was washing up and idly staring out the window - as one does when faced with boring, repetitive jobs that have to be done - and saw a small plane flying across the face of Mt. Leinster. Now Mt. Leinster is not really all that high - around 800m - and taking into account the position of the house, the plane had to be flying very low. ...continue reading "Loss & Leaving"