That’s wonderful!

I started leaving stickers as I travel a few years ago. I’m so glad you stumbled upon one and decided to follow me!
I was in Switzerland this past summer (2011) and plan to write about it soon. What a beautiful country.

I’ve been traveling pretty much all my life, but I’ve traveled independently since I was about 17 or roughly 4/5 years ago.

What about you? Where have you been? What have you seen? Any favorites or recommendations?

Blarney Castle, and Cork Ireland.

June 7, 2010

As a little girl I remember standing atop of Blarney Castle, clutching my brothers’ hands as my mother urgently warned us not to move and “for God’s sake, avoid the edge.” She paced in a panic as my dad hung upside down against the castle wall to kiss a stone—all for the gift of gab.  Confused but patient, I watched as my dad surfaced in laughter and tried to coerce me into taking the plunge, my mother then threatening divorce at the very prospect. I remembering telling my dad no—not because I was scared (at least not admittedly), but promising I would later…. who knew those words would cast my future?

Years later I stand a top Blarney Castle I understand my mother’s concern as I glance at the drastic vertical drop, but grateful for guardrails that weren’t present 10 plus years ago. I take a breath and lying on my back, lean backwards gazing at the ground from the tip of my lids and puckering up to kiss the Blarney Stone. Legend has is that doing so will give the kisser the ancient Irish gift of gab, or the ability to talk oneself in or out of any situation.

After our brief make-out session my two friends and I roamed the surreal, green castle grounds, admiring the dreamlike landscape. We discovered that happy cows and lush plant life in a misty, cool and quiet world puts the heart at peace and lets the mind wander.

A visit to Blarney Castle may not be the most original adventure, but it was definitely worth a visit.

We returned to Cork and booked a night at Bru Bar Hostel. Combining a bar and hostel equates to a sure sign of genius—I’m convinced. Especially when you receive a complimentary pint upon check in, even if that pint is Coors Light.

Once again, I fell into the familiar routine of hiding my things in and under my bed before throwing on my Toms and tracking through the city. Cork nurtures a quaint atmosphere, the sort reserved only for adorable little towns, bustling with local artists and active pedestrians.

The usual fever of a Saturday night didn’t grip the city as much as we initially hoped, but our hostel bar turned out to be our saving grace offering pool tables, talkative travelers and a comfy mattress.

In the morning we made our way to Fitzgerald Park and found a “Mad Pride” Festival, “celebrating all our differences.” The food was the main highlight however, as we stuffed ourselves with everything from lamb burgers to roasted pork, and Nutella and banana crepes.

As the sky began to dim, we rushed to the hostel, tacked on our packs and briskly walked to the bus station. Four hours later we were back home, greeted by the “real Irish weather,” we had so fortunately forgone before.

After a fruitless attempt to venture back into the city center for the Docklands’ Festival Monday evening, we retreated into our dorms with four bottles of wine and some pizza.

A couple of glasses later and a good film gave birth to an impromptu gathering of other international students from various parts of the states for a mini-Monday night party.

I think this is what they refer to when wise old men say, “These are the best days of your life.”

June 5, 2010

Ireland is one of the wealthiest countries I know. Not flush with money, not prosperous in opportunity, and sadly not sound in the Euro. Ireland’s wealth resides in the richness of its culture, specifically its song and dance. Tonight we learned the dance.

The night started when we made our way to Monkstown, where our university treated us to a beautiful meal of lamb, steak, decorative salads (all with a side of potatoes of course) and delicious deserts.

After our little tummies were thoroughly satisfied, we wandered down to the shoreline and hopped from rock to larger rock, treating them as stepping-stones over salty waves.  We gave Monkstown a generous dose of photos and laughter, and then skipped down the street to a beautiful little building that illustrated the country in its finest: little doorways, dark hardwood floors, strong oak beams above, a dim atmosphere with a friendly warm aroma, closely stitched together by song and dance. In one room stood several tiny tables willfully bearing blue teacups full of freshly brewed coffee and tea. Old men dressed in red vests carried traditional instruments to the stage after finishing their tea. They began to warm their voices and the dance floor while we warmed our stomachs with Carlsberg before we dared dance.

Suddenly a very sharp, very strict elderly lady came marching in to scold us for our pints and herd us into the main hall. With each step she issued orders saying, “No! Step this way,” and “Stop that! Stop that! You’re doing it wrong, it’s left, left, turn, then right,” finishing with, “You’re not fast enough, pick those feet up!”

Her Nazi-esque commands enhanced the experience as we all fearfully and quickly hopped around the floor, bumping into one another, trying desperately to follow her exact instructions, and avoid the wrath of a merciless scolding. It was all very fun.

By the end of it all, our foreheads were wet with perspiration and our feet begging for a bench, but we were pros in the art of traditional Irish dance and very proud.

At the Guinness Storehouse I tossed a penny into the wishing well and asked to live here, in Dublin, for some stretch of time in my life.

Then I opened my eyes and realized I already was.

What an incredible reality.

Bray and Killiney Ireland.

June 4, 2010

Yesterday was AMAZING!!!

After class, I took our professor’s advice and decided to “enjoy these sunny days while they last, and take serious advantage,” by embarking on a spontaneous trip to Bray. It was beautiful.

A lot like Buncranna, lovely sandy shores sucked my toes into the earth while shockingly clear water gently hugged my ankles with each passing wave.

I raced two of my friends along the shallow waters that graced the shore, and climbed with them to the edge of rocky wind breakers to better admire the vastness of a deep blue, clean yet super salty sea.  

To our right stood an Irish mini-mountain with a cross on top; erect against the ocean while cozy little homes and shops comfortably cuddled behind us. The sky was clear and the sun shown warm on our backs throughout the day. It was perfect.

After popping into the village store to grab some beer and a few snacks, we hopped back on the DART and made our way to a neighboring village we passed earlier. Caught by a two second glimpse on the journey to Bray, we knew we had to return to Killiney if we wanted the best beach experience.

Here, the sand was just as soft and as welcoming as before. Families praised the sun along the shore and children tiptoed in and out of the water. It was as if we were all celebrating the unusual beauty of the day.

One of the ruling truths of nature, I’ve discovered, is that there’s something about water that’s simply irresistible. Something about the way alluring waves glide up to your toes, something about the salty whisper of the wind that seductively draws you into the sea. Something I cannot ignore.

It took some solid convincing for the other two, but minutes later and a few yards down the shore in a more secluded area, we cheekily stripped down to nothing but our undies and ran nearly naked into the freezing Irish sea.

Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the clear water and the polished stones seen vividly 20 feet below, maybe it was the scenery or the absurdity of daytime skinny-dipping, but all my senses were on edge—and I was swimming in ecstasy.

There are moments in your life that you remember forever. Some are tragic. Some are joyful. Some are beautiful. Some are special for both their simplicity and complexity. Some take place floating beside surreal surroundings, while the Irish summer sea chills your bones and the air seems to sing a song that echoes your excitement as you let loose.

There’s so much beauty in this land I can hardly fathom it.

The sun began to set and the air quickly cooled. We rushed out of the water and shooed off teenage boys that seemed to magically appear as we surfaced from the water. We rushed to the station and stood shivering on the platform, waiting the train back into the city. It was only after we boarded and were roughly 15 minutes along that we realized we left our underwear dripping wet on the railing beside our bench—a nice surprise for some unsuspecting stranger. Sorry Killiney for the astonishing and inexcusable behavior.

We warmed up back at the dormitory with cups of tea and hot soup. Then, as if the day didn’t hold enough adventure for us, we were flagging down the bus into the city centre chasing a craving for Dublin’s brews and accompanying melodies.

Pints at Porterhouse, songs at Bruxelles and a few places in between before finishing it all up at Purty Kitchen— shamelessly addicted to the techno-pop beats.

I wish I could live like this: in a cloud of perfect passion, hopelessly in love with a culture and fully infatuated with the world around me.

Thank you!

I loved Norway—especially Balestrand. I would have loved to have met up with you there as well.

I plan to keep traveling though, so maybe our paths will cross later.

A German traveler once said to me, “Everyone you meet in your life, you meet twice.”

Tumblr counts as once. Maybe there will be a second?

I’ve been thinking about how to best answer this post for a while.

There are so many different ways to answer this question. It really depends on where you’re going, when you’re going and what sort of experience you’re looking for.

So let’s start from the beginning:

I always look for the cheapest flights. CheapOAir, STATravel, SkyScanner and Matrix Airfare are usually my go to sites. I also try to fly on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays—they’re usually the cheaper days to fly.

I also either buy a travel book (such as Let’s Go or Rough Guide), or sit in Barnes & Nobel with a notebook and copy out the most important notes, such as recommended attractions, emergency numbers, HI hostels and the norms for that country, including whether to tip the taxi driver or not.

I always stay in hostels, preferably HI. Hostels are the best way to meet other travelers, share stories, make friends and get valuable advice. Hosteling International usually has specific international standards their hostels live up to, and are competitively priced. Plus, you get a discount with membership—something worth doing if you are, or plan to be an avid traveler.

Pack a toothbrush, more underwear and money than you anticipate needing and less clothes. You can happily survive off of almost nothing. I’ve met travelers that spend months living out of a schoolboy sized backpack alone. Heck, I relied on a mini-carry on suitcase for a whole summer. Remember sunscreen, tennis shoes, flip-flops, sunglasses and a versatile jacket. Then you’re pretty much set.

Once in the city, I usually stop at the tourist information center or a hotel right away. You can pick up a free map at the front desk, and get a local’s quick recommendations.

While you’re in the country, be smart about your things and surroundings.  As much as you may try to disguise it, it’s almost impossible to conceal your foreign nature to locals. Have the time of your life, take loads of photos, but always be aware of the people around you.

That being said, there will be a time your things get nicked or you get straight up mugged. Invest in some travel insurance and keep those just-in-case numbers in tow. I really hope it never happens to you, but the sad fact is, it’s almost inevitable once you become a traveler. Part of the liberation though, is learning to take some punches and overcome their blow. You’ll be surprised what you’re capable of once you’re really challenged.

More importantly, what your friends, your parents, guidebooks and other sources forget to urge you to do: have a good time. Take chances. Do things you wouldn’t usually do. Fall in love. Let your guard down. Forget your old life, old person, old responsibility. Explore your world. Get crazy. This is your life, this is your trip, experience all you can.

Wow. You’re amazing! I’m so excited for you! I hope it’ll be an incredible trip—and I’m sure it will!

Advice? Follow that age old saying: layout what you plan to take with you, (clothes, money and toiletries included) then pack half the clothes and twice the money.

Go see as many museums as you can. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Try to understand the culture. Spend free time in pubs drinking the best lagers and stouts known to man kind. Talk to people.
Venture into Northern Ireland. Visit the country side and the coast line, they’re stunning. Galway was probably my favorite city; spend some time there if you can. Do things you wouldn’t usually do, and don’t be afraid.

I’m really excited for you. I can’t wait to hear all about it!

Get excited too!!!