Monday, 25 April 2016

West Coast



A family holiday five years ago took my wife and kids out west up the coast to Wemyss Bay for a week with other family. Needless to say I stayed at home. And when they returned I marvelled at the photos. It was my way of being there and experiencing it from a distance. The sea. The beach. Longing. As I said in my last post all that returned with a vengeance when I was finally standing on the shore in Ayr unplanned. But its only after that I realise just how strong the desire was to head the coast and since doing it I realise its not only that I want to go again but need to go again.

Is it in the blood? Possibly. Whenever I look at photos of my Grandfather on holiday there are usually takes with the sea in the background. During the war he served in the Merchant Navy. The sea never left him. One of his sons, my uncle, worked on trawling boats and later had his own boat on the Broads. Wherever my gran and granda used to take me on holiday when I was young there was always a beath. From doing Genealogy I see the sea was a big part of my ancestors life as well as the rivers Clyde and Mersey. But then again I suppose if anyone looks they can find.

Going back to the family holiday though the one thing that caught my eye was The Waverley, the last paddle steamer. In my life I have been on it a few times and I have great memories of it so to see it in photographs brought all those memories flooding back. Nostalgia was though tinged with a big heap of sadness and a sprinkling of envy. They were things I wished to see again but in truth I cannot say I wholeheartedly believed I ever would experience again.

Another drive. Its a mystery tour always. My wife makes a point now of not telling me where we are going while leaving the option open for me to fly the white flag and for us all to return home should I feel the need and it has worked so far. Even when it has been hard I know I can trust my wife to turn back when required and that is enough to keep going. Its a learning process. The books say that adrenaline cannot be released indefinitely and so the high panic has to die down. And in the midst of blind panic it is hard but if you can ride the waves knowing it will die down then its another lesson learned that it really does calm. And this is important. So we were off on another mystery tour heading for Glasgow this time on the motorway  and I was feeling more and more uncomfortable. The speed and the volume of traffic was unsettling me and I knew not only did I need to get through it but after would have to come back through it again. When we passed the city centre and went on I expected to next hit the Erskine Bridge to take us over the Clyde and toward the north. We never did. The next thing I saw was the imposing Dumbarton rock which I knew was steeped in history but only later from reading up on it found just how much history. 

Its at this point I should point out my knowledge of the geography of my own country is poor. My mental mapping in general has always been poor. My wife will drive about and know where everything is in relation to everything else. I can drive a road many times and still get lost. I had a rough idea where Dumbarton was only because an old work collegue from near there died and I went to his funeral around there. As we travelled on I had no idea where we were going. Port Glasgow- heard of it but had no idea where it was. Greenock. I knew that. We kept going. Ardgowan, Inverkip and so on. In my mind we were now travelling north along a coastal road but in reality after Greenock we were heading south. Then I seen the signs: Wemyss Bay. What? I actually thought it was way up north. And here we were. How far had we come? As my wife drove she pointed out the caravan park where they had all stayed and a road they had all walked on Sunday night as her mum looked for a church. I expected us to stop but we didn't. My wife drove on.

Where to next? I had no idea where we were on the map. In my head it was a straight road from home to where we were and to return it would have to be the same journey run. As it turned out we did exactly that but looking at the map after I see we could have kept going and eventually gone in a circle towards home. Largs. That is where we finally ended up. Then a memory. They went there for the day while on holiday 5 years ago sampling some of the famous, in this neck of the woods, Nardini ice cream. Another beach. Another high anxiety dropping to zero and staying at zero as I watched the waves and the distant land beyond. The ferry shifted. I was surprised at home quickly it travelled back and fourth. My wife told me it was Millport in the distance. People coming and going. Another weird thing. Still I battle with getting on the train to Glasgow which would take 20 minutes. I was quite willing to get on the ferry and go to Millport. We didn't but we did go in and check prices for another day. We will do it. Again so calm it was quite unbelievable.

I didn't see The Waverely but I am sure I will next time and at some point I am sure I will get on it to Rothesay again like I have done in the past. Its not even a possible but a near certainty. I didn't see it this time but I didn't need to. I saw the see again and that was enough. I walked the sand with my family and felt calm and normal and that was enough.


Tuesday, 19 April 2016

I see the sea


The Easter holidays have come and gone and strangely the fortnight of leisure for the kids came after Easter itself so a bit surreal. It gave us the chance to get out and about when Scottish weather allowed and the car, which cried a large pool of oil before being mended, was able to make the journeys. Not that we did a lot. And in the process having not been out and about on the roads for so long I found adrenaline making me restless and the old symptoms rising again like they had never been away. Lots of old symptoms I had forgotten about which is probably a testament to how well things have been going.

Unreality. There is a symptom I had actually forgotten about and when it struck it was so unfamiliar I did not know what to call it in my own head. Its one of those experiences which really cannot be put in to words. Disconnected with the rest of the world. Out of step with your surroundings. The normal is surreal. Totally unsettling. CBT tells me its a fight or flight response- high state of alert. Pupils enlarge to allow more light to see better and vision becomes peripheral to focus better and it all makes for the normal feeling unnormal and unreal. The best thing for it is mindfulness and the best way to do that is going for a walk and connected again with the world around. I suspect introspection has a part to play and as soon as I left the sofa for a walk outside it started to lift and miles later it was gone completely. What lay ahead I did not know at the time. Many miles and many hours later than day I saw the see. I was not expecting that and it came with mixed emotions.

No I didn't walk there though that would have been the perfect lead into the next part. My wife drove. We'd not had many drives. We had drive up north 5 days before to a Garden centre and it was great eventually but the anxiety was really bad at the start for a good 20 mins. I am glad I calmed as there were owls and after giving a donation I took some photos which helped ground me. The massive Eagle Owl was the most impressive and must be some sight in the wild. Apparently this one had escaped many moons ago and pets from a local housing estate started going missing! Again getting past the 20-30 minute rush of adrenaline things started to calm. The night before in the wind, rain and mist we had an eerie drive through the Eaglesham moors and the part visible turbines of one of Europe's largest wind farms. Then our final journey. I had no idea were we were going but as I said I looked up and thought to myself: I see the sea.



Mixed emotions. The night before our journey had ended in Kilmarnock. It gave my wife an idea and as always she does not tell me as she knows I will say no if I know but be less reluctant if I just arrive. And this is how we ended on the road above with the sea in the background. The first time I have seen the sea in...don't know. I cannot remember the last time. Maybe 2005 but then again not sure. If not then further back. Two conflicting emotions struck as one. Joy and fear. Two conflicting thoughts: go towards and get home quickly. And in that moment I had no idea what my wife planned next. Panic kicked off. It was expected. And that is probably why the overwhelming feeling was relief as she turned at a roundabout and soon the sea vanished. Still though there was a part of me wanting to go, a longing. I knew it would be for another day. The desire to go to the sea only grew when the panic subsided as it did and always has done. Another day. One step at a time.

But it wasn't. We kept driving and we drove past Ayr racecourse oblivious to the fact a few days later the Scottish National would be run there. We drove into Ayr itself. There was a familiarity of times long gone as a kid and being taken to seaside towns by my grandparents. Ayr was one. Yarmouth another. The smell and sound. Ice cream and chippys and gulls and promenade and all the rest. We were there. The car stopped, we were out and soon the waves were lapping at my boots. The kids ran about on the sand and we walked along the shore. Something happened.

From that moment of not knowing and being unsure I was sitting looking at the waves with a cuppa on the promenade. I felt I could stay forever. I felt normal. If we'd had overnight stuff I would have suggested staying. I was not coping but more relaxed than I am at home. I looked out as saw the vastness of the world beyond and the beauty and felt not only great peace but at home. I cannot remember the last time I felt so happy within myself. And memories were coming back from childhood as I watched the kids run about. I saw photos in my head of my Granda always with the sea in the background. I remember the sand and the sun. It felt like coming home and to be honest I did not want to leave.

It really did feel like a new chapter and a big leap. It feels like this whole bad prolonged experience is finally coming to a close. And whether it is or is not there are days like that one ahead that cannot be taken away and with them even more plans. The days ahead now look so much brighter.