A beautiful wine moment, around a bottle of red Burgundy, inspired a birthday cycling trip with my sister. 

The route, from The Lonely Planet Guide to Cycling in France, was chosen based on easy terrain, the odd hill just to give us a bit of a challenge, and, crucially, wonderful scenery, pristine, ancient villages, with the promise of excellent food and wine at the end of each journey. The route took us through sleepy Burgundian villages, from the timber-framed houses of Auxerre to the wine heartland of Chablis, the untouched mediaeval village of Noyers sur Serein, and finished in the hilltop jewel of Vezelay. 

The train from Paris to the pretty town of Auxerre, on the banks of the Yonne river, took about two hours. We had organised to pick up our bikes from La Maison du Vélo, a unique bike shop in an old water pumping station, bikes piled against ancient pumps and machinery. Laurent, the owner, recommended a restaurant, La Petite Beursaude, for our dinner that evening. Here, we had our first taste of Burgundy’s legendary food and wine. A glass of Cremant to start, the Burgundian rival to Champagne, followed by asparagus, duck and cheese, and a gorgeous Pinot Noir, the main red grape of Burgundy.

April is a perfect time to visit as the fragrance of the blossoms is everywhere, and the weather is beautiful, without being too hot. We had our coffee and croissants on the wisteria-draped terrace at the Hotel des Marachaux, before starting the first leg of our trip. The minor roads we travelled on were quiet, smooth and fairly straight, with very little traffic.

The scenery between Auxerre and Chablis was beautiful, gentle and peaceful. Tiny quiet villages with barely a soul afoot, seemingly unchanged for centuries. The road wound gently up rolling hills until we were looking down over the patchwork that is the Chablis wine region. We found a yard with a ‘degustation’ (tasting) sign, and carefully, with much detailed analysis, chose a bottle with a lunchtime picnic in mind. A well-stocked shop with cheese, charcuterie and bread provided the rest. We couldn’t pass Marguerite de Chablis wine bar, lured by glasses clinking on the sunny banks of the Serein river. A few kilometres later, we stopped for our picnic at a sun-dappled spot by the river, leaving only a short ride to our destination of Noyers sur Serein.

The town’s medieval gates provided a cinematic entrance to Noyers, as our bikes rattled on the cobblestones in the evening hush. As we fumbled in panniers for our phones to find our accommodation, a man pulled up and called our names. He had seen us ride past, like two coyboys thundering into a dusty wild west town, and thought, ah, these must be my two Irish women! 

Having settled us in with a crisp glass of white, he made a reservation for us at his friend’s restaurant, La Vielle Tour. Here, we ate more wonderful asparagus, lamb, cheese, and Gevrey Chambertin, a wonderful red wine, usually prohibitively expensive at home. 

Our accommodation at the 13th century Les Trois Tours was beautiful, with a wooden balcony overlooking the Serein river. The town itself looked almost unchanged since the Middle Ages, with cobbled streets and beautiful wood-panelled buildings. An art cooperative and café in the village was a wonderland of quirky pieces, vintage furniture, great coffee and home made cakes. We had a browse at the weekly market before heading off along the river towards our next stop, Vezelay. Our lunch stop was Le Pot d’Etain, with cheese, charcuterie and cool white Burgundy in a sunny courtyard. A short stop in buzzy Avallon, then the steep climb up to the beautiful village of Vezelay. 

As we took a rest halfway up this hill, along came our host wondering if we’d gotten lost, a familiar theme. We were staying in a one-room chambre d’hote, Le Porc Epic, above an art gallery. 

The owners booked us a restaurant, and left us sipping a glass of Chablis on the terrace overlooking the Morvan Valley and vineyards out to the horizon. 

La Terrasse restaurant was a few minutes’ walk away, right beside Vezelay’s famous Basilica. We dined on classics like Gougère and Boeuf Bourguignon, accompanied by Mercurey 1er Cru, taking a half bottle home with us to enjoy on our panoramic terrace. Vezelay is a beautiful town, perched high above rolling vineyards. Our last morning was spent wandering through its medieval streets, and visiting the stunning Basilica, and squeezing in a lunch of wine and paté. Our journey back to Paris was fairly convoluted, but that gave us time for a train picnic, of course with a nice red Burgundy, and maybe clearing the carriage with our very ripe cheese. 

Resources

• The Lonely Planet Cycling Guide to France

• maison-vélo.fr
(bike hire Auxerre)

• hotel-lesmarechaux.com (Auxerre)

• Les Trois Tours 
(Noyers sur Serein)

• le-porc-epic.com (Vezelay)

It’s no surprise that January is the busiest month for booking holidays. One look out the window at that wet, grey day has me dreaming of sunny blue skies, coffee on warm terraces, and glasses of wine after a swim in water, which doesn’t temporarily stop my heart.

After recommendations from friends and family,  I’ve decided to renew my account with Home Exchange. It’s been many years since we last did a house swap, so I’m ready to give it another go. Our previous swaps were very successful, involving the whole family, then teenagers. The main motivation was the cost saving in bringing a family of five on holidays. It makes so much sense. Your house is empty, as are the houses of all the other people in the world who are on holidays. Cars are parked at airports, pets are left with minders, all of which need to be paid for.  

Yes, you have to clean up before you leave, make up rooms for guests, and generally have your house visitor-ready. Not everyone in my family was thrilled about this, but I persevered, and really, once you decide to do it, it’s not that much work. Plus, you come home to a clean and tidy house, not the usual mess left after a frantic dash out the door. 

Getting your house ready to swap is not the same as getting it ready to rent as a holiday home. You are going to someone else’s home, and they are coming to yours. Think of guests coming to stay; you’ll want everything clean and orderly, but remember it is still your home.

For some, the idea of strangers in their house is too uncomfortable, so that is a stumbling block. When we exchanged, the people whose house we were in, were in our house, so I felt that was very safe – they would look after our house as they expected we would look after theirs.

Our first swap was to a working farm in Tuscany, where we stayed in the owners’ guesthouse. This house swap was non-reciprocal, they would come to our house at another time. Cesare and Elisabetta were schoolteachers who also grew olives, vines, fruit and vegetables. Elisabetta was a great cook, and ran a cookery school in the summer. While the arrangement was supposed to be self-catering, they invited us to dinner regularly, and we ate wonderful, homegrown produce, Cesare’s amazing wood-fired pizza, and Elisabetta’s homemade icecream. Now, you might not get that everywhere, but the community aspect of house-swapping makes it different from a commercial booking transaction. 

Our next swap was with a family from Gruissan in the south of France, who came to our house at the same time. The house was in the town, which has a beautiful old centre and a modern marina, about 15 minutes walk from a beautiful sandy beach. We had the use of bikes and the area was great for cycling, with the Canal de la Robine, a branch of the Canal du Midi, close by. Our priorities then were proximity to a beach and town, with a garden, plenty of space, and enough going on to keep teenagers and parents happy.

However, a couple I know recently did a house swap in an apartment in the centre of Bilbao, a totally different experience. Browsing the site is entertainment in itself, as I linger on house boats in Amsterdam, cabins with saunas on Norwegian fjords, and balconied apartments in Paris. It’s a bit like becoming a local for a few weeks.  

Of course, there are restrictions. Finding exactly what you want,  where you want to go, at the time you want to travel, and for your number of travellers isn’t always a success. Many people on the site are swapping second homes,  giving them more scope. If you are swapping your primary home, it is easier if you are flexible with dates, and are open to many destinations, which isn’t always possible.  

I’m just starting again as a house-swapper, and my plan is to be very open to places I might not have considered before. Rather than deciding on a region or city, I’m going to decide what type of holiday I want, say, close to the sea, or in the middle of a city, and browse until I find something beautiful and interesting, and maybe somewhere I’ve never been before. First, though, I need to do a bit of scrubbing!

Details: There are many house swapping sites, but the only one I’m familiar with is homeexchange.com.

When our children started to move out of home and begin their independent lives, we decided that the best Christmas present for all of us was an opportunity to spend time together. Better again if we got to learn something while we were at it, and of course picking a beautiful location was a vital part of the planning.  

On March 13, 2020, myself, himself, and our grown-up children walked around the beautiful Glebe Gardens in Baltimore, as Jean Perry encouraged us to pick up, and smell, handfuls of her ‘black gold’ – a crumbly, rich and highly-nutritious compost, ready for use after a year of maturing. This was our Christmas present that year to the family – a gardening course with Jean in her glorious garden. The timing was perfect. From that weekend on, we all spent more time than ever before in our gardens.

I’ve mentioned our boat trip on the Shannon before. That was also a Christmas present, and it was one of the best weekends away ever. We all had to learn how to manage the boat, with some definitely coming out as having more skill than others. Whether or not you’re a natural skipper, jumping off the boat and swimming in the beautiful waters of the Shannon is a magical experience, as is mooring up alongside the mythical Clonmacnoise. 

Whether it’s for adult children, your young family,  just you and your partner, or a friend or group of friends, gifting an experience for Christmas really lasts so much longer than the event itself. The time together is so valuable, and if you come away with a new skill, it can last a lifetime. 

I recently did a beginners’ sewing course at The Common Knowledge Centre in the middle of the Clare countryside. The accommodation is simple but comfortable and cosy, and the food is amazing. Breakfast, lunch and snacks are served each day, all eaten together at shared tables. They offer a range of courses and, while I was there, there was also a DIY course on which the attendees (mostly women incidentally) were learning how to use power tools and make and install a shelf. It was a gorgeous learning environment – convivial, supportive and fun.  

Many of us have been inspired by Manchán Magan, and other champions of our native language, to improve on our Leaving Cert Irish. Even if you are starting from scratch, there are many Irish courses, which are not academic, but focus on communication, music and culture. I found myself in a hall in Donegal this summer, dancing Baili Luimni and Tonnta Thoraigh, with the melodic sound of the Donegal Irish all around me. I realised how rarely I am in a room full of Irish speakers. It was completely natural for them to speak to me in Irish, and to be patient with my faltering reply. 

Diarmuid Lyng puts together weekends in different locations in Ireland, including Kilkenny and Cape Clear, where you can immerse yourself in the language, while having plenty of craic along the way. He also offers family-orientated events. 

There is a growing ecological and restoration movement, quietly and steadily spreading out around the country. Hometree, based in County Clare, is dedicated to establishing and conserving native Irish woodland. The Ardnaculla Summer School is a community and ecology festival, run every year in May, giving an immersive experience of landscape restoration and ecology, with walks,  talks, workshops, music and great food. Camping is available in Hometree’s beautiful HQ, a five-minute walk from Ennistymon.

What about gathering wild plants, leaves, and any other found items you fancy and making art with them in a nature reserve in the Wicklow hills? After an afternoon at Windrush Farm with Sophie and Lucy, you’ll come away with the ability to make Hapa-Zome (Japanese leaf dyeing) eco prints using natural materials, and have your own creations at home with you. 

Or learn woodturning in Galway with Ambrose and Bríd, or…You get the picture, the list is genuinely endless!

If you fancy somewhere more exotic, Dearbhla Glynn takes a group to incredibly stunning places in France and Majorca for a yoga retreat. Swimming,  walking and wonderful food are all part of the restorative process.

Of course, you could also join myself and Karen Austin in a beautiful 15th century villa in Tuscany for a week next May, exploring the food and wine of this magical region. If someone in your life, including yourself, would love to immerse themselves in the joy of Italy, this might be the Christmas present you’ve been looking for!

Contacts:

glebegardens@gmail.com

emeraldstar.ie

ourcommonknowledge.org

Donegal Gaeltacht Summer School – www.liofa.eu

diarmuidlyng.ie

hometree.ie/
ardnacullasummerschool

windrushfarm.ie

@dearbhlaglynn on Instagram dearbhlaglynn.com

lettercollum.ie or
fmharkin@gmail.com for details of Tuscany trip. 

‘Workaway’ is a platform for linking volunteers with hosts offering accommodation and food in exchange for work. There are hosts all over the world. I had always assumed that this was for young ones travelling the world,  and was surprised and delighted to discover that there is a ‘mature traveller’ option to click.  

When I turned 60, I had a strong urge to ease out of my comfort zone and do something different. Browsing the Workaway site felt like a portal into thousands of other lives, with endless possibilities. I chose a self-sufficient farm in Lazio, an hour from Rome, and sent a message to Shak, the owner, who accepted my request to come and stay with him. Before I knew it, I was standing outside a train station in rural Italy, waiting to be picked up by a complete stranger. 

If that sounds a bit freaky, it isn’t really. The Workaway hosts all have a verified profile, with reviews from previous workawayers. It was possible to contact other guests who had stayed there and get their views, so I felt perfectly safe, if a bit apprehensive going to live for a few weeks with people I had never met. Of course, that was one of the best things about the experience. This type of travel attracts all kinds of people: students and young people travelling cheaply, digital nomads looking for a different environment in which to work remotely, people wishing to learn a language or a new skill, and aul’ ones, like me, looking for a secure way to travel solo.

My typical day at Shak’s farm started at eight with baking the bread we had started the day before. We made a kind of sourdough, but used some yeast from the wine fermenting in the cellar. After breakfast of warm bread, coffee, homemade jam and peanut butter, we headed off to do our various jobs. As a workaway, you’re expected to do four or five hours work a day in return for board and lodgings. The farm had grape vines, olive trees, a ‘food forest’ being planted, a vegetable garden and chickens, dogs and cats. My job was pruning the olive trees and carting the prunings up to the compost heap. Rewarding work, though physical, in the middle of beautiful countryside up and down slopes, the hilltop village of Magliano-Sabina visible across a tree-filled valley. We took turns at making lunch with Shak, who was an excellent cook. Fresh vegetables from the garden were made into risotto, pasta dishes, or ‘torta rustica’, one of Shak’s favourites, a pie made with filo pastry and whatever vegetables were to hand. Glasses of his own wine, of course, accompanied every meal. Well, except breakfast. In the afternoon we were free, apart from some ‘household chores’, like scooping algae out of the eco pool, or as mentioned, hanging out with the chickens. At six, we met at the ‘sunset bar’, so called, as it was the last part of the farm to catch the evening sun. Here, we’d have a beer before dinner, and play a few tunes. Shak was a musician, and it was no coincidence that many of the workawayers came with an instrument under their oxter. He spotted any musical references in peoples’ profiles, so we had an American harmonica player, a Hungarian opera singer, an Italian traditional guitar player, Shak on Ukelele, and all of us with voices to sing along.  

We made and ate dinner together, and as everyone took turns cooking, we had culinary influences from all over the world. 

On our days off, we’d explore the local area, take the train to Rome, or Shak would bring us to one of the many village festivals in the region. 

This was my first workaway, and I’m heading off soon on another. 

There’s something very freeing about not knowing exactly what to expect. Signing up for a workaway, you have to be prepared to be flexible, to do what’s needed on any given day, to spend time with a variety of people of all ages, and from all walks of life. You have to accept that it might not all be perfect. There can be unexpected challenges – I had to get used to a composting loo last time – but that’s all part of the adventure. Different from a holiday, workaway allows you to immerse yourself fully in the culture of the place, and to follow your curiosity into another way of living.

Details from workaway.info

A ‘staycation’, according to the dictionary, is a holiday spent ‘in, or in the neighbourhood of, one’s own home’. So, I’m not sure this qualifies as a travel piece, but it is definitely a holiday story, just without the travel bit.  

Every August for the last few years, my mother and myself have booked into O’Donovan’s Hotel in Clonakilty for a week. She comes all the way from Wicklow, but living just 10 minutes outside town, in the heart of the countryside, for me, it’s a novelty to be a townie for a week.  

I read recently about a New Yorker who described holidaying at home, making the point that it was easy to staycation in NYC. Luckily, I feel the same way about Clonakilty.

Having someone visiting from another part of the country, of course, helps you to see your home town through other eyes. My mother Dee’s interests are traditional Irish music, shopping, coffee and cake at 11, art, and nice lunches with glasses of wine. She loves the abundance of these in Clonakilty, along with the relaxed and friendly nature of everyone involved in their delivery. We love the buzz of town, and how it changes throughout the day. There’s a special feel to the early morning, drinking a coffee outdoors watching shopkeepers sweeping their pavements, council workers cleaning the streets for the day, delivery drivers bringing goods on clanging trolleys, restaurants setting out their tables, and the chat and banter between them all as they prepare for the day’s business.

Back ‘home’ at the hotel, my mam and I have breakfast together, looking down from her balcony over Recorder’s Alley, watching the town come to life.  

For Dee, shopping is her sport of choice, so now, fortified with fried eggs and toast, she’ll hit the shops for her daily work-out. She loves the shops in Clonakilty. Things that someone else notices that I take for granted – the variety, from bags to clothes, homewares to wool, haberdashery to books, art supplies to art – so many independent shops within a stroll of each other. Then, coffee. Is there anything better than the aroma of great coffee meeting you at the door and weaving through the hubbub of lively chat? 

After dropping the bags, Sex and the City style, in the room, it’s time for lunch. The location will be weather-dependent: a sunny table in Asna Square, a beer garden tucked away behind a pub, or a cosy table with candles and polished wood. Always a nice glass of white wine to go with the holiday mood. 

My mother being an artist herself, after lunch we might browse some of the many art galleries and craft shops in town. Whether we talk to the makers and artists themselves, or the curators who have put the collection together, their enthusiasm is infectious, as they share the uplifting energy of creativity. 

As on any good holiday, a siesta might be called for now. I might walk or cycle out to Inchydoney for a walk and a swim (not getting in the car being one of the joys of my staycation), or sit on my balcony and read a book, the chatter and clatter of the Clonakilty afternoon drifting up from the street. 

For the last few years, we have both managed to get our favourite rooms, mine being on the second floor, with a balcony looking over the library roof and three church spires. From here, we watch the sun go down with a glass of wine before we hit the music trail. 

We don’t have far to go. Downstairs in the front bar, or in An Teach Beag, we get a different slant on Irish music every night. A few doors down, DeBarra’s is where we head for trad on Sunday nights, or Scannell’s for some midweek tunes, then Shanley’s for a broad array of music styles. Dee might even be found there herself playing a few gentle whistle tunes with whoever is around. 

Having just spent the weekend at the Guitar Festival in Clonakilty, I’ve added a high-energy coda to my own staycation experience. It’s all the fun and music of a festival, without the tents, muck and portaloos. Is it just me, or was this year even better again? By Monday morning I was tired, emotional and filled up with the joy of live music and a tightly packed crowd swaying to the same beat.