Sheep, cows and mountains - Hiking in the Peak District

When I started this blog, I wanted to write about the things that hold my life together, that move me forward. In short, the things that sometimes make a person a person. There are moments in life when you truly realise the beauty of life and the people in it. There are moments when you can still surprise yourself.

Well, I've just returned from an incredible week spent in northern England, hiking in the Peak District and a stint in Manchester. It felt like a month and a day at the same time, over in the blink of an eye but yet jam-packed with amazing experiences. The kind of experiences that belong in a box of inspiration.

We went on several ten to 12-mile hikes in the Dark Peak and the White Peak, walking and climbing for up to seven hours a day. We climbed up Stanage Edge - it was the first time I climbed to the top of a hill. Carrying a nine-kilogram backpack, it was exhausting and there were several moments when I just wanted to lie down and cry or sleep, anything but keep walking. And then, when you get to the top and you feel the instant temperature drop when the wind tugs at your hair and see greyish clouds streaking across the sun, it evaporates. The whole climb up, your screaming muscles, even your sweaty face - they just disappear, to be replaced with a glorious, warm feeling of accomplishment. From that moment on, I just wanted more of it.

That day, we climbed up to more hills that felt like mountains to me. On one particularly steep slope, I felt the limits of my body so clearly, my shaking muscles and quick breath, it was terrrifying. But then, to find someone next to you, pushing you on, making you reach that little bit further, you crawl over that limit. I must admit, it was the people that got me to the top of that hill. I felt nauseated, my vision was blurred, but I'd did it. And that is the single-most wonderful experience ever. Enjoying it with all the others made it that much better.

After a few days of hiking, you feel your body settling into a rhythm. The countryside is calming for the spirit, walking for miles and miles is so natural. One becomes more sensitive to the little things: a river twisting far below in a narrow gorge, glittering in the late-afternoon light. The Peak District is beautiful: the landscape is ever-changing, with rolling hills changing into winding dales and leaf-strewn woods. There are stony bridleways and muddy fields and primeval-looking, moss-covered valleys. One gets used to having a group of sweaty hikers and lots of sheeps and cows for company. It doesn't matter what your room looks like as long as there's a bed, you start appreciating every meal, every drop of water. There is a feeling of going back to the roots, of getting closer to your innermost self, a quiet that spreads over you.

The first part of this trip was truly magical, a real lesson in knowing your own strength and stretching it to breaking-point. I learned a lot about myself, about my willpower and endurance - it was truly inspirational.

Love, x

Poetry - The road not taken

There are few things that can capture the essence of a moment in life better than poetry. You can write a novel about love and loss, you can embellish it with lovable characters and a strong plot, but it's very hard to break a subject down to its core that way. Poems, on the other hand, can be as short as two lines and carry as much meaning as twenty pages of a novel. I love headstrong, passionate poetry. Words are the juice of life.

One of the most beautiful peoms that I have ever read is 'The road not taken' by Robert Frost. This is how it goes:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kep the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

This poem is, in my opinion, about the decisions we make in life. We have to choose between two roads, two destinies if you will, trusting them to lead us on our way through life. Sometimes we take the smooth road, sometimes the thorny one, but as we know life, we will never glimpse the place of their crossing again. It is only in memory that we can go back to that yellow road and wonder whether we have made the right choice.

That's why I have chosen to post this poem: it's a time of decision-making in my life, and the life of many of my friends, and we are all a little afraid of taking that first step. Overwhelmed by possibilities, we are often presented with more three, even four roads to take. And each one twists and turns out of sight after a few steps. It's a leap of faith, and sometimes, especially in times like these, it can make all the difference.

Frost's poem is courageous, the lyrical I chooses one of the paths, however wistfully, and makes his way through life. He does not tell us whether he was truly happy with that choice, but then again, do we really want to know? Would it make our choices easier or more difficult? I think we all need to find our own road through that wood called life, and for everyone, this poem has a different end.

And maybe, even if our lives don't turn out the way we had planned or hoped they would be, we can at least look back at the road we traveled and say that we have enjoyed the journey. Isn't that what makes life the fullest and most beautiful? Wonderful memories of what has been, and looking ahead at the road that is still to be traveled. 

Love, x

My Carrot and Apple End-of-Summer Muffins

I really love those last golden days of summer, quietly slipping into autumn's crisp embrace. The sun is still strong and warm, but there is a breeze telling of things to come ... there are leaves raining down on me wherever I go, but the grass is still as green as in spring. These first few days of September are always the most glorious, so I decided to make End of Summer/Beginning of Autumn muffins.

 

First of all, there is nothing quite as wonderful to me as that wonderful perfume of muffins rising in the oven. You can taste the ingredients on the air: cinnamon ...  vanilla ... thick, golden butter ... When the days get colder, I long for those smells even more. Last night, as I was sitting out on the terrace, enjoying the last rays of sunshine peaking over the treetops, it overcame me.

The recipe I used is really simple, an old family favourite that I've changed again and again. Last time I made Wholewheat Raspberry breakfast muffins, but this time I needed different colours. Red is not the colour of summer, I needed yellow and orange and some golden brown.

So here it is, the recipe for Carrot and Apple End-of-Summer Muffins: 
dry ingredients:
1 cup plain flour
1/2 cup wholemeal flour
1/2 cup oats
2 tbsp. sunflower seeds
1 cup sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
cinnamon (liberal amounts for my muffins)
vanilla

wet ingredients:
2 eggs
3/4 cup oil
1/4 cup apple juice (makes it extra-juicy!)
2 cups diced apples (I used Braeburn, I love their tanginess in cakes)*
1 grated carrot

* I like large dices, its so lovely to sink your teeth into a soft, juicy piece of apple, you don't get that with small chunks.

Combine the wet and dry ingredients and then mix them together thoroughly. You can add 1 tbsp. of soda water - I find it makes the muffins a little bit fluffier - but do this at the very end. Fill the muffin tins and sprinkle a little cinnamon and a few oats on each muffin. Now you only need to wait for 20 - 25 minutes, until the muffins are golden brown (oven a 180°C). 

I love sitting in front of the oven and watching the dough rise. As the house fills with their warm smell and I am repeatedly asked when they are finally done, I watch them puff up and turn crispy around the edges. Needless to say I had four muffins for dinner.
The combination of the slightly sour apples with savoury carrots is heavenly and the oats and sunflower seeds added the right crunch to the muffins. They were just as good for breakfast the next day, even more juicy - my perfect end of summer/beginning of autumn muffins.

Love, x

"Like crazy" - a love story

Discovered this trailer today and was struck by the heartfelt beauty of it. Jacob falls in love with Anna, a British exchange student, but when she needs to leave the United States because of her visa, there love is put to the test. Trying to hold their relationship together across an ocean and two continents, they struggle with the pain of being apart. Will their love last?

This is definitely bookmarked, there is such great chemistry between these two leads.


http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/paramount_vantage/likecrazy/

Love, x