MenoSunday; Life Lived Lovingly

There is nothing to be added to this...



Menorise [men-oh-rIse]; the process of inculcation

"Find a place where there is joy, and the joy will burn out the pain."
(Joseph Campbell)

` © Yamini Ali MacLean

Menotripsical; BAR and Beyond - Halifax Completion.

Come on in, sit right down and linger for a bit longer this fine Friday - normally it would be my Final Friday Fiction here; but have decided to finalise the reports on the big trip Westwards. 

June 28th was another sparkler of a day. After brekky, back on the bus to my now-favourite stop in town. Down the hill and into the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. Having walked the boardwalk several times up and down I knew exactly where I was headed, but also knew I needed a full morning, maybe more, for this one. Loving all things maritime, I just wanted to lap it up.

Lots there was to lap, too! Not least of the exhibits was that of the Titanic. More specifically, little bits and pieces of the Titanic and a lot of recreated representations in relation to it. Halifax was the landing place for the living and the dead. There is an amazing, but haunting, layout about the ... laying out.. I won't put that here. Suffice to say it was compelling reading and the pictures from the time, graphic. Quotes from the crews of the rescue vessels demonstrate effects that we would nowadays equate to traumatic stress.

It was an exhibit which brought it home.




















































































There was much I could have shown you... but these toddler's shoes speak volumes.

Moving on from that area, more general matters of the history of the sea were on show. I recall watching, in childhood, a film with Anthony Quinn playing a deep see diver and dressing up in one of these old suits. (I looked for reference, couldn't find Quinn, but this is entertaining!) Somehow that always stuck in my memory. I thought they were either amazingly brave, or complete nincompoops. Looking at the real thing, I have to say, probably both!
























There were lots of items such as bells, buoys and baggage. Then there was an entire section filled with amazing models of ships from the steam age. I photographed nearly all of them - but don't get scared. This is just to give you an idea. Others will turn up on my "Shipping by..." posts over on TAKE bloggy.






































































The main building itself took me all morning. I then walked up to the ferry end of the boardwalk again and had some lunch - there was a vegetarian-only stall! - and once refreshed and rested, returned to the museum's external exhibit.

THE ACADIA.
...I could have photographed the whole of her, but that would have been pretty ****y obvious. Besides, I like that the bollard is unhappy about facing her rear end...

...and doesn't the red flag just pop against the blue?

I digress. Easily distracted, me.

Yes I climbed aboard. If you read that link, you will know the Acadia's main business was hydrography. Therefore, I felt it obligatory to photograph the hydrograph and the room where its (and other instruments') readings were recorded.












Dying to see that, were you not? There's more. Again, if you read the link, you will know that this little ship has also played many a large role in film - even as the deck of the Titanic. Well, she does have a rather lovely deck. The Captain and Radio Ops quarters were quite fine too.



















































Having explored this vessel, it was still only mid arvo... time for another! Oh dear friends, don't run away...











THE SACKVILLE. There's a brilliant little film on that link. Highly recommended.

The following cabin had a sign beside the door...






















































































There was a bit of a difference between the quarters of the captain and his crew, you'll notice. However, the crew, it is said, fared better at sleep, for the hammocks they swung, which meant they didn't fall out of bed in rough seas - something for VIA to think about on their sleeper trains?

Speaking of rough seas... by the time I got back to my room that Tuesday evening, things had turned a tad murky.  By morning, it was completely murky.
























Stayed like that too. No burning off with a pretty summer sun. Pure Scottishness it was! Not just for the Wednesday, either. Thursday also, or most of it. I was flying out on Thursday night. I spent the cold (yes cold!), wet, murky Wednesday doing things like packing, ordering a bus trip to the airport, researching the different ways I might get back from Glasgow airport to Dunoon... discovered a taxi service that was actually really reasonable (given it is a 20 mile trip) and plumped for that. Could have got the bus into Paisley and then the train to Gourock; but that meant waiting around in the cold and wet and an extra hour to 90 minutes, as well as carting the luggage.

The two 'fallow' days to end the adventure were actually very welcome, I realised. I rested and didn't push myself to 'do, see, find'. Had thought I'd visit the Titanic burial site to pay respects, but that would have required serious wet weather gear. No. Rest it was.

On that last Thursday, all the pipe band crews were getting togged up for dress rehearsal by the time I was down in the foyer waiting for the bus. The USAF boys were so steel-soled, they were nearly ice-skating on the polished floors of the residence. Turned out smart though. Then there was all the tartan... got chatting with one of the fellows from the Swiss Highlanders. I kid you not - they're for real. Claude could tie the plaid as deftly as I tie a sari! He'd been a saxaphone player - until he heard the bagpipes and fell in love. Bless 'im. That's Claude far left, in front of White Teeshirt. One band member has the name Damian Bell, so he at least is a Scot!

















Bus was on time and that was it. Had a lengthy wait at the airport - four hours... (the bus didn't run after 5:30) - so availed myself of a massage service being offered at the top of the escalators. Rosa was brilliant. Half an hour of perfect pressure to sort my neck and back before the bucket- job flight; which undid most of the handiwork.

Westjet only fly over the Atlantic during the summer months. They don't do business class. Premium is not a great improvement on bucket, but a lot pricier - so I took bucket for this one. Only five hours. A night flight, so threw the scarf over my face and let the craziness take care of itself... and it was crazy. I didn't sleep, but at least I was left alone in the midst. If you don't count the constant bumping from passers-by and the need to shift for the passengers beside me needing the loo.

To be fair, the journey was a perfectly good one, for its class. The pilot was a cheery chappy who came into the cabin before take off and advised us that he was driving, but not to worry, because he had a fellow with him who could look out the window and follow the map. Which was reassuring.

The news, after getting home, that a pair of Canadian pilots had been grounded at Glasgow airport for attempting to fly whilst drunk was not.

Anyhoo, we landed both safely and on time into pouring rain. There had been a rainbow at Halifax as I left and there was a rainbow waiting for me at Glasgow - the perfect bridge!!! My taxi driver was waiting with my name up in lights - it was a mobile phone, LED is light - and he had me at Gourock waiting for the ferry by 9:30am.
























The walk up on my side stayed dry and was refreshing. Got in my door by 10:30am. Could hardly open the door for all the junk mail and begging letters. Some of it worth keeping. Kettle on, clothes in the wash, shower.

That was that.

...and that is that; almost. One last Me-Now-Views post from this series coming up Tuesday, and the round-up post on Monday.