Hamlets and Crafts

To the south the land slopes gently towards the sea, and is lightly wooded, with the occasional meadow clearing, scattered with wild flowers – cowslips, primroses and a patch or two of tiny wild strawberries, sweet as honey.

Gilead is the town and the main trading centre, but there are several small hamlets dotted about the island too.  Each hamlet seems to be connected to a particular craft, and the crafts seem to be family concerns with the skills being passed from one generation to the next.

One of these I found by literally following my nose!  The scent of lavender and rose was on the air and it was my intention to pick flowers.  Instead, I happened upon a soap-making enterprise.  The perfume was coming from two large vats which were being stirred by two older women.  Younger women were shaking the set bars of soap from their moulds, and the children were wrapping the bars, in threes, in brightly coloured cotton squares.  They were secured with a blob of shiny, black wax and imprinted with a celtic knot – the family’s sigil.  The work was accompanied by chatter and laughter, and they were happy to show me how the soap was made.  One of the children took me to where there were boxes packed ready for the market and I bought a pack each of Lime Blossom, Rose Geranium and Sandalwood.

I hadn’t really intended to buy anything on my outing and the weight of the soap, although not very heavy, was added to the weight of my lunch and drink bottle.  I hadn’t gone very far beyond the village before I decided to lighten the load by eating my lunch and having a drink.  I hid the soaps in the fork of a tree where I could pick them up on the way back, and headed towards the beach for a paddle in the sea.

I collected one or two pretty shells and put them in my pocket – little mementoes of my visit.  Rounding a small headland I came across another track and decided to see where it went.  Another small hamlet of six cottages.  These were the basket weavers.  I had noticed the nuns using beautiful baskets for a variety of things.  This village must be where they came from.  Men and women were sitting companionably in a circle, engaged in their craft.  Dried rushes, willow canes and hazel wands were heaped inside the circle.  The men appeared to be making the utilitarian baskets, while the women were making smaller, more decorative ‘art’ baskets.  These were made from fine twigs and grasses and had small, brightly coloured bird feathers and beads woven into them.  Some looked very much like birds’ nests and were quite delicate.  I was amazed at how quickly they could produce a basket.  Their fingers were very nimble and also quite calloused.  They invited me to join them and try my hand at a small basket.  My attempts caused a great deal of good-natured merriment all round.  I ended up with something that looked as if it had been walked on, but it was a colourful disaster with the beads and the feathers.  I purchased a tiny ‘art’ basket woven with feathers of aqua and blue.  It sat neatly in the palm of my hand and weighed almost nothing. 

One of the men was loading a couple of donkeys with baskets for the marketplace and asked me if I would like to accompany him part of the way. He put my backpack onto one of the donkeys and we set off towards Gilead. I explained that I’d left my soaps in a tree and gave him a rough idea of where, and he pointed me down the right track when we got close.

I was quite tired by the time I reached the tree so I sat a while to get my strength back.  When I put the soaps into my bag I felt the walnut shell against my knuckles.  I’d heard some of the others talking about its teleporting abilities but had no idea how to operate it.  It didn’t come with a manual.  I re-examined the tiny items it enclosed but couldn’t make a connection.  I decided to hold it firmly in my hand and visualize where I wanted to be.  It worked, but it was the weirdest sensation.  I felt as if my stomach had fallen through the floor. There was a whooshing, whistling sound and again the lurch of the stomach as I stopped, but I was exactly where I had imagined I would be – back in my room at the abbey.  I can see me making interesting use of this in the future.

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The Hunt Continues

I’m off a-hunting again today.  Searching for the missing muse is giving me a good excuse to have a sticky-beak into all sorts of places.

When I came back from the hairdresser’s yesterday, I walked along ‘A’ deck and found a row of alternative therapy salons, so I went back up there to have a look around. I left my special glasses in my bag for the time being.

There are seven shops in the row. ‘The Fragrant Garden’ – aromatherapy, ‘Happy Feet’ – reflexology, ‘Zensational’ – shiatsu massage, ‘The Sacred Om’ – reiki, ‘Cranium’- champisage, ‘Janet’s Bowen Clinic’ and ‘Hot Rocks’ – stone therapy. Oooh, what a great place to pamper yourself. I popped into ‘Happy Feet’ and made an appointment to get my feet done. Two o’clock tomorrow. I put my glasses on and had a quick look at the two people in the waiting room, but neither of them were muses. I decided to keep my glasses on and visit the other establishments and pick up some price lists.

The reception area in ‘The Fragrant Garden’ had an enormous mural of a beautiful garden covering three walls, depicting every flower you could think of. It quite took my breath away. The room was heavy with the scent of freesia in vases on the desk. I just love the smell of freesia. I told the young lady I just wanted a price list; took a quick look around and left.

There was a note on the door of ‘The Sacred Om’, saying ‘Back at 4pm’, so obviously there were no muses in there.

I opened the door to ‘Zensational’ and a little bell tinkled, calling forth a very polite, young Japanese man from the rear of the shop. He bowed low and asked how he could help. I bowed back and said I would like a leaflet telling me all about shiatsu. He gave me three. One about it’s history; one on the practice of shiatsu and a price list. There was no-one waiting, so I thanked him and left. I must give shiatsu a try, too.

I was just about to head into ‘Hot Rocks’ when I saw a gaggle of muses disappearing around the corner and decided to follow at a discrete distance. There were muses of both sexes and they were having fun giggling and pushing one another. We ended up back at the Jolly Roger.

The barmaid was missing and in her place was a bald, heavily tatooed man with a scar on his brow. He would have appeared scary if it wasn’t for his kind eyes and cheeky smile.
‘What can I do ya for, love?’
‘Could I have a tomato juice with worcestershire sauce, please?’
‘Yer can ‘ave anything yer like’, – a bit of a change from the dragon-lady of my last visit.
”Ere’s some nibbles too, love’, and he pushed a bowl of pretzels at me. ‘Are ya enjoyin’ yer cruise?’
‘I am indeed! It’s a most unusual ship.’
‘It is that. You ‘ave to be very open-minded to get the most out of it, but not everyone’s able to do that. It pays to leave your expectations on the dock, when you come aboard this ship.’
‘How very true! My name’s Beryl, by the way. What’s yours?’
‘Me mum named me Theodore, but most folks call me Ted.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Ted,’ I said, smiling.
‘Are you able to get about OK, with yer eyes bein’ s’ bad, love?’
‘Oh, no, no, no! My eyes aren’t bad. These are special aura glasses. I’m trying to find a muse who has gone missing.’
‘Aura glasses, eh? Could I ‘ave a go?’ I handed them over to him and watched his eyebrows rise in amazement as he looked around the room.
‘A pair o’ these would ‘elp me sort me customers out before they become a problem. Did yer get ’em on the ship?’
I explained about the walnut shell and he was quite disappointed not to be able to get a pair.
‘I really want to find this muse before we reach land again, and she disappears on the island.’
”ow will yer know yer’ve got the right one?’
‘I don’t really know except I’ve been given some blue silk threads which, apparently, are a necessary item for her capture.’ I dug the threads out of my tote and handed them to him.
‘Well, I’ll be………………… ‘Ere ‘ave a look!’ I put the glasses back on and looked around the room. The symbols of one of the muses was pulsating. I put the threads away and it stopped. I got them out again and the same thing happened. Being nimble of mind, I quickly joined the dots and realised she must be the one. All I had to do now was persuade her to return with me. I sat and finished my drink and mulled the problem over with Ted.
‘Yer’ve not got enough thread to tie ‘er up’, he said.
‘No, I know. I must have to use them some other way. I shall have to be very devious.’
I wound the threads around my finger and made them into a tiny ball, and trapped a single thread between the fingers of my right hand. I then went over and introduced myself to the group and stuck my hand out for her to shake. As soon as the threads touched her hand she was mine!

She created and swore, but the other muses just laughed and said it was a ‘fair cop’. I apologised to her and explained that if she didn’t return home soon she was to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. This sobered her up somewhat and we slowly made our way back to Cronelogical’s cabin, where they were reunited. I suggested they sit down and talk out their problems. Cronelogical thanked me and is treating me to dinner tomorrow evening.

All’s well that ends well. I was quite pleased with my day’s efforts.  I might hang out a shingle that says ‘Beryl Bainbridge – Muse Buster’.

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Muse Hunt

I’m about to embark on the hunt for the missing muse.  Watch out Miss Marple, Mrs Beryl Bainbridge is about to unleash her powers of detection.  She’s not quite sure where to start though.

Just on the off-chance it might help, I’ve opened up my magical walnut shell to see if there is anything to aid me in my quest.  I can’t see the anchor or the rope being much use, but there is the teeniest, tiniest pair of spectacles in there that I have ever seen, with a little scrap of paper stuck to them.  I have a magnifying glass in my trunk somewhere (rummaging about)  ……..ah! there it is.  Now, lets see what’s written on the scrap of paper ………………….’Blow!’ ??  Hmmmmmmmm.  Here goes.

Well, it’s one surprise after another on this ship.  The glasses are actually growing!!! Very ‘Alice in Wonderland’.  I can now get them on my head.  The lenses are like beer-bottle bottoms, but I can see quite clearly through them.  Maybe I need to get my eyes checked again.

I’ve had a look around the room, and I can’t see that there’s any change, but I shall sally forth anyway and see what happens.  I have the blue silk threads in my tote and some barley sugars for energy.

Down the passageway and up the stairwell – I don’t like the idea of being trapped in a lift if we take on water.  Titanic, Lusitania and Poseidon are lodged in the back of my mind. 

So far, nothing.  Whoa!! Now I know what they are – aura glasses.  I can see everyone’s aura.  This is soooooooo cool.  I’ve always wanted to see auras.  I notice that some of the auras contain symbols.  Some have quill-like feathers; some musical notes and some, splashes of colour.  Of course!   These are the muses. All I have to do now is find the right one.

Just checking in the restaurant.  Oooh, the coffee smells good and there’s a selection of scrummy-looking cakes on display.  I think I need to fortify myself with something nice before starting the hunt proper.

Decisions, decisions – coffee and ………….. apple strudel with cream.  Ah, there’s Elizabeth.  I’ll see if she minds me sharing her table.

Later:

I asked Elizabeth if she had any idea what Cronelogical’s muse looked like, but she was no wiser than me.  She had heard that certain of the muses liked to gather in the Jolly Roger pub, and gave me instructions on how to find it.

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A Discovery

On Tuesday, when I was scrabbling about under my bunk looking for my shoes, I found a walnut shell.  Fortunately I had my ‘Hubbles’ on or it would have ended up in the bin.  Inside it were several tiny things.  I mentioned it to Elizabeth, the lady from Yorkshire,  and she informed me that it was a special gift given to all passengers by E and that I should take great care of it and always know where it was, and not trade it for anything. 

It must be needed for something special.  How exciting!!  I wonder what it’s for?  I will drop a note to E, thanking her for the gift.

Elizabeth had her paints out and was painting a lovely dragonfly.  I brought my watercolours too, so maybe we can organise a field trip at the next port of call. I will jot down a note to myself so that I don’t forget to ask her if she’d be interested in that.

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