View through the portholes

LOOK! Can you see through these porthole-goggles? It's the sea!



Outside our round windows there are seagulls and seamist and seasongs and sea!
Yes indeed we have made it to the coast! Here we are parked at the end of a little lane on the top of a cliff where we can see miles of greyblue water, gently approaching and withdrawing from the stony edge of this land where we are. The sounds are different and there is salt and seasleepiness in the air. We hear the sqa sqa of gulls swooping and the bluck-clucking of a yardful of chickens kept in the grounds of an interesting eggshell blue house with a round tower just over there. We hear from time to time a deep low boom from out at sea which for a while in our imaginations was pirate-cannons or whale-thunder or ...
well apparently it's the exploding of bombs that have gone past their sell by date would you believe it!



This little spot is where people come to walk their dogs, car after car pulls up by us all through the daylight hours and we are beginning to recognise people by Whippet or Wolfhound, Setter or Husky... We were apprehensive. How long would it take for someone to ring the council? There is after all a No Overnight Parking, Campers or Caravans sign just there, and houses not far away either. So we put a temporary sign in the windscreen, propped against the steering wheel, saying this is our house... and watched as folks stopped and read. What a delight people are here! Not one hostile word yet, nor any sign of a council man. In the mornings while still beneath the duvet we overhear the early dog walkers saying "oo look" and "what a nice idea" and "where are the horses?" to one another, while their snuffling bounding companions snuffle and bound about the wheels.



We have walked and walked by the cliff edges and have found such things along the coast as forests and Roman Forts, gorse bushes and cooing doves. And we have crunched along the stones at the water's edge where strings of seaweed drape themselves over the tide breakers, and collected driftwood in abundance for our fire. Tui took me for breakfast the other day in a tiny cafe down the road a bit. He has been crouching by the breaking waves and catching sea sounds in his electronic sound net, and we have enjoyed spending our days by the sea.




I have had time to begin two new paintings (one of which will be a clock) and to work on a lovely map commission for someone who is to be married in the summer. She wanted her overseas guests to be able to find the wedding with a hand drawn medievalish sort of map that could direct them from the main airports and show the important old towns nearby. I am delighted to say that she is skipping with excitement about it, and I am rather pleased with it too.



Best of all we have been touched by the kindness of a visitor.. A dear lady called Maria who cares for rescued dogs read our sign and was the first person bold enough to knock on our door!
She offered a possible place to park in the hills of Wales where her sister lives... and was kind. And today she returned not only with her sister's address but a delicious bagfull of cheeses and walnut bread and olives and sundried tomatoes and biscuits and oaty chocs and yellow tulips! We sat and had tea in the sea air and were glad indeed for kind hearted people as we pass by.



As I write, the sun is setting and Tui is gathering sticks on the beach for a fire-by-the-water. In a while we will stumble down the steep and eat our food gifts with some wine by the burning driftwood, knowing that just out there in the blackness is the Edge of England. If I am feeling exceedingly brave, I might jump in the waves and out again ... and then scuttle back to the firelight to dry.


We have been noticing the importance of moving on in this itinerant life. It is of course a rather obvious thing to say... but you get a little bit settled where you are if things are ok, even in a carpark. You start to know the little walks and develop a routine quite quickly. A sort of lazy familiarity lurks there too.. and this can only be swept away by driving off.
It is so nice to meet new people in their place, and to see something different out of the window. It is a privilege to be able to experience the land like this I think. When your house is stuck to the earth you develop a different sort of relationship with it. Equally beautiful, but it feels like ownership. And when passing through you can see the bits of earth that others call their own, and enjoy them for a while. Perhaps one day we will want to stop and put down roots somewhere and grow vegetables, but for now, we are loving the wandering, and the turning up in new places, and the making it home for a spell.