I am finally on the Emerald Isle, near Tipperary as I write, looking out to the spectacular Galtee Mountains. What a relief it is to be here. My heart and soul can breathe again.
My nomadic existence for the last 2 years, in the UK, felt like wandering in the proverbial wilderness. I struggled with it. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. I sold up with the intention of moving abroad, so I was a reluctant nomad. At times, it felt like I was imploding. But it was safer to stay where I knew the lay of the land and could wait for the geo-political terrain in our crazy world, to become fully visible. I was confident I would know the moment when it was safe to travel abroad on my own, without hassle (as I don’t do any of the diktats). So, on the one hand, it was a period of stagnation. And on the other, it was a period of gestation during which I completed the metamorphosis into a new version of me, which began 5 years ago.
Crossing the water marked the conclusion of this process. I had shed the old me (and all my possessions, except what fitted into ‘the ship’), written a book called ‘The Ultimate Relationship… the one with yourself’ (which was cathartic) and emerged from the chrysalis, with shiny new wings. The last part of the transition was imagining how and where to be, and live, which has created the ‘Earth Collective’ project. From the moment I stepped onto the boat, it felt like I was in my 'sweet spot’.
This also fits with the broader timing of things. The astrology of the cosmos is now lined up to support us, as we take it into our own hands, to create the world we want to live in, innovate and collaborate with like-minded others. It’s very aquarian and, co-incidentally, this is my star sign, which amplifies the energy for me. Despite what seems from the chaos all around, the wind is at our backs!
I knew, since the beginning of the year, that I would most likely be leaving the UK in March. I felt a strong pressure to do so, which was the indication I had been waiting for. In the final three weeks, I sat out raging gales on the Pembrokeshire coast. The wind and rain were relentless. Day and night. When you are living on wheels, the elements are omnipresent as there isn’t much separating you from the outside world. The ‘ship’ rocked and rain pounded the roof. I could barely hear myself think and had to wear earplugs to sleep. The metaphor wasn’t lost on me. The storm of life is everywhere. We are navigating it daily. So, I doubled down in my efforts to develop a sense of calm, and wait patiently.
Boats do not agree with me - at all. A week before I sailed, the forecast indicated one calm day, after which the gales would return with force. I invoked divine intervention. I visualised blue skies, sunshine and a calm sea. That ‘one day’ continued to look good and 24 hours before, I booked the ferry. I headed to Fishguard bright and early the next morning. It was as I envisioned and the crossing was a joy. All the more, for meeting a marvellous man on the deck. We talked the whole way and spent quite a bit of time together the following week.
I felt things would really start to happen once I left the UK. It’s much more difficult to manifest something new, when all you have is your computer. Being able to travel with purpose, follow your instinct every day and exercise synchronicity, is a different matter altogether. And so it has proved.
Larry, who I met on the boat, is a softly spoken Irishman. He works in Scotland and was returning to visit his family in Wexford, just up the road from my first campsite on the coast. We have a similar world view. Larry showed me the countryside, in particular the stunning Blackstairs Mountains and I visited his family farm. He filled me in on Irish culture, life and property and was great company – something that has been sorely missing in my life for years, from the start of the reclusive period rewilding in Wales. I felt a tremendous sense of gratitude for the double miracle of the calm crossing and meeting Larry. Early indications of the magic of Ireland, I hope.
Travelling around so far, I have noticed the differences to the UK. These are my observations:
The countryside is familiar but refreshingly different, hence it is interesting. It’s more rugged, less manicured and far less spoiled by human activity. There are fewer hedges. Boundaries are a mix of banks, gorse bushes, trees and traditional hedging. Green spaces are bigger, as farmers electrify their grazing, rather than using fencing or hedges to create fields.
There are far fewer people and cars - thank goodness! In fact, I hardly saw any traffic driving for three hours, on a week day, from the port along the coast to Hook Point. Roads are not as we know them in the UK, and it’s nip and tuck for the ‘ship on wheels’ which is oversized. But the fact that roads are not great, and that they twist and turn, means people can’t drive fast. And the speed limit is lower. The net effect is that drivers are more relaxed,and I have yet to encounter any road rage, which I frequently experienced in the UK. There are also fewer lorries, and I haven’t seen any courier vans yet, either.
The towns I have visited are small and authentic, although Larry says rural towns are dying. I like them. They haven’t been raped by the chains. Shops are independent, with old-fashioned signage and are often painted bright colours, as are the houses. Gloriously, the people are friendly and helpful, even in the bank!
Cycling takes me deeper into the countryside and is providing a feel for how people live there. Country homes are mostly modern, spacious, with plenty of light, though there is a plethora of ancient ruins and relics, for contrast. The Irish are industrious. Many have built their own homes, or rebuilt old farmhouses. And they are very particular about their gardens (which I put down to the Irish connection with the land). All the lawns I have seen, without exception, are immaculate, even in March which is still technically winter. Perhaps being busy outside is why obesity is almost non-existent, in stark contrast with the UK?
Another huge plus is that the air is clearer and cleaner. There is much less spraying in the skies. This was omnipresent in the UK and had become a constant concern. I could hear and see it 24/7, from Scotland to the south coast of England. During the last two years especially, clouds have been replaced by a dense ‘plasma goo’ which is getting closer to the ground. This comes from aerosols trailing non-commercial planes, which form latices that disperse, and which obliterate the sun most of the time. It broke my heart, especially in the most pristine parts of my beloved Wales. The nano-particles which eventually fall to the ground, appeared on every surface of the ship, all the time. I found myself wiping off blue-grey microfibres, half a dozen times a day, which were dropping through skylights and entering the windows. White surfaces make it obvious.
I know that geoengineering will cease, in due course, when the overriding global architecture that is waging war on humanity, disintegrates. But it will take time. It is used to manipulate and control the weather, and has been for decades, as well as for other nefarious purposes. This is well documented. One excellent source is Elana Freeland’s astonishing book, ‘Geoengineered Transhumanism’. The situation is not nearly so bad in Ireland and I am hoping that the further west I go, the better it will get. In any event, I am able to breath the air again, without constant concern.
Since I arrived, the connections and synchronicities for the Earth Collective project have been coming thick and fast, as I expected. Lou (one of the group) posted on FB for me, as I don’t do social media, and we have had a very good response. So many amazing people have come forward who are interested in creating a different way of life. The upshot is that I have had a number of vid-chats and aim to meet people in person in the next few weeks, along with some eco-communities and natural builders.
For now, though, I am enjoying discovering Ireland, getting a feel for it and a sense of what life will be like here. My plan is to gradually move west to the area I have identified as a starting point, to look for land. In the past, I have learned that projects go through identifiable phases. After conception, there is an extensive exploratory phase. Once sufficient information is gathered, you can start to nail down the detail and create a plan. But it’s important not to rush the first phase, which lasts as long as it lasts.
Life is finally moving again and it feels good.
Note: More photos from Ireland can be found in a new gallery I have created. Also, if you or anyone you know is interested in the Earth Collective project, please email me for information: email@example.com
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