For the past two weeks I have been having entirely too much fun in Dublin. I would say I’m sorry for not posting amidst my time of bliss, but the truth is – I’m not. This year has been such a difficult one, and has pushed me past every limit I ever thought I could be pushed past. But, in the true manner that life seems to work in, the best was saved for last.
Originally my travel plans included Germany, Dublin, Copenhagen and Oslo…but when I got to Dublin I realized something that I’ve never experienced before in my life – complete and entire contentment with where I was.
I’m not one to cancel itineraries. I generally stick to the plan – no matter what. But there was just something deep down that told me not to leave Dublin. So I didn’t. And that was, perhaps, one of the best decisions of my life.
The grand total was 10 days.
I really wish I could give a play back moment by moment of how amazing every one of those days was, but I’m afraid I barely remember, myself.
I will tell you this: I lived. Wholly, completely and without inhibition.
I got a new tattoo, I went on bus tours and walking tours and visited museums and jails and mountains and oceans. I read books, tried my first, and not last, Guinness. I learned how to throw darts, saw some new movies and old TV shows. I learned to cook chef cuisine in a hostel, made friends with people from all over the world. I learned some new and some old songs, visited too many pubs to count. I visited cities all over Ireland, saw castles and cliffs and realized the splendor of simplicity. I slept on the wrong side of the morning, and forgot what it was to have a curfew. I met people there’s not even a chance of me ever forgetting, and laughed more than I have in 9 months combined. I felt loved, accepted, and in a weird way like I was a puzzle piece that had always meant to be there to fill a hole.
In short, I don’t even know how to convey how much I enjoyed the last couple of weeks. I should probably just stop trying – so, instead I leave you with some of my favorite pictures from the trip:
Is it possible to travel too much? Some might say a resounding no. But today I found myself shooting this question around in my mind.
You see, I’ve been gone from the US for almost 9 months, now. And as odd as it sounds, the best way to describe my longing for home is that I’m just so tired.
Something to recognize here is that being tired doesn’t necessarily mean anything is wrong. Sometimes being tired just means you’ve toiled so hard at something that all you want to do is find a place to rest.
I think the biggest thing I took for granted when I was in Seattle was the ability to have a launch point, or to have a place I could call “home.” What I wouldn’t give to be without the homeless feeling that sometimes just settles into the pit of my stomach. Paris is not my home. These places I travel to, while temporarily lodging me, are not my home. Even Seattle, which I love so incredibly much, is not my home anymore. I am, in essence, a homeless wanderer. Lots of temporary places, but no place where I feel at peace.
Then I come to Ireland. And call me crazy, but somehow an entire country feels more like home to me than the bricks and stones that make up my house of residence. I am, and always will be a firm believer that every person has that place/city/country where the just feel a deeper connection than anywhere else, and that’s how I feel when I’m in Ireland. Which is probably why I just keep coming back.
This week has been Spring Break for me so I had made plans to go from Germany to Dublin to Copenhagen to Oslo all in 2 weeks. I made it to Germany and had a great time, then came over to Dublin…and accidentally fell in love with the city. So much so that I threw out my plane ticket and stayed.
And while I wouldn’t necessarily suggest doing this, for obvious financial reasons, it was something I thought a lot about before coming to the conclusion that it was necessary. See, 5+ years ago I was flying back from India and landed in Heathrow airport. Since some of my group decided to stay there before returning to the US, I had a bit of a split second decision of whether or not I would stay there too. My heart was pulling me toward the city, but it was the first time I had traveled internationally and I was terrified. So I got on the plane back to the US…and I’ve regretted that decision ever since.
Sometimes we have to take risks. Sometimes we have to ignore the “rules” and follow our gut feelings of what the next step in our journey is. It’s not always the safe route, and the outcome is often unknown, but as we strike out on these paths, pioneering them as we go, we learn that following the plans that others have written doesn’t always result in our own happiness.
A man in my hostel yesterday, who hardly spoke English, perhaps explained it the best when he said, “Can I tell you a secret? You’ll never see ‘enough’ [of the world].”
Travel is beautiful and wild and untamed. It draws us out of our comfort zones and refines our deepest selves, BUT it is not the answer to happiness. And that’s something I’m starting to understand. We can visit every beautiful location, we can check off every major city, but when it comes down to it, it’s the people who we love and who love us that create the essence and fulfillment of belonging.
Because home isn’t the place where we grew up, or live now. It’s not a building or an address or a city. It’s where we feel loved, where we feel accepted and where we feel whole. Home is our place to be unapologetically ourselves. It’s where we find rest. And while you can see all the monuments and glories the world has to offer, finding that place starts with acknowledging that it might be right where you’re already standing.
I absolutely love Saint Patrick’s Day because it’s a day when I get to celebrate my family’s heritage and one of my favorite places on earth – Ireland! My family traditions are no joke when it comes to Saint Paddy’s Day, right down to the green breakfast and the corned beef dinner. So, it’s been pretty interesting to be in a country where there is the exact opposite of celebration happening in most places.
It has been an absolute impossible task to explain to my au pair family the significance of this day. In fact, my nine year old informed me that since it’s not a French holiday, it isn’t a real holiday at all.
But, after 7 months, I’m used to the realization that the general French population doesn’t accept things that seem normal or even second nature to me. I still celebrate, anyway. And yes that means giving my kids green baths, baking green cookies and listening to Celtic music. The celebration must go on!
And being in an expat state of mind, today, also reminded me of something else I love celebrating: identity. What makes us who we are? As someone who comes from a biracial background my own identity has been quite the journey to come to terms with, mostly because, growing up, I never felt like I was entitled to it.
But through the years, I’ve slowly begun to unravel the tangled ball of self-identity that we all have to face, in one way or another, at some point. We all are faced with the questions of who we are, and who we want to be.
When I first moved to France I had a really hard time adjusting to the craziness of suddenly having absolutely nothing to define me. I no longer had my friends, my job, my apartment, my family…in short I had nothing. I didn’t even have a phone.
Actually, I still don’t have a phone.
I stood in this foreign country knowing 50% of the language, having no idea what was surrounding me, and wondering what I was thinking when I stepped on the plane that brought me there. I was so scared. I cried so much. I wanted to go back home more than anything in the world, not because I was homesick, but because I was felt so hopelessly lost.
Who was I?
Right about this time, I had a friend who sent me a message that just meant so much to me, and I don’t think they probably even know. It reminded me that I had people back home who loved me, people who supported me and who cared about me. And as simple as that seemed at the moment; those words have circulated in my mind for the past 7 months, again and again.
I have people who love me.
If there has been one theme from this year it has been the love and support of the people back home. I’ve said it before, but I just have no idea how I got so lucky. Maybe it was my Irish blood (Just kidding. Every Morehouse knows our Irish blood is cursed with bad luck).
When I moved to France it was because I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I felt like I needed to “do something with my life” in order for me to figure out if it was worth anything. In short, I felt like I needed to prove myself.
And I intended to – prove myself, that is. I fully intended on this year being the best year of my life. Of everything going beautifully and me then having triumphant tales to spread far and wide for all to hear.
Then the first blow came. And the second. And the third, and fourth and fifth and sixteenth.
And all I could think was “Wait!! This isn’t how this was supposed to be!”
And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.
I don’t have a crystal ball showing me what direction my life is going in or why things happen. But I do know that when these things happened to me, they pushed me closer to myself than I’ve ever been before. Why? Because when everything else is stripped away, when you have nothing left and you’re just sitting there, you realize what actually matters in the grander scheme of things. And here’s a hint: It’s not a smartphone.
Over the past months I’ve realized just how much my identity is reflected through the hearts of the people who love me, and love well. The people who have laughed, and cried and sent me words of encouragement, even though it was in no way convenient for them to do so. They gain nothing by being the best friends a girl could ask for. But I guess that’s the truest test of love when it comes down to it – selflessness.
Who am I? I have no idea. But I know that each day I feel like I’m getting to know myself a little better. And maybe I’ll never reach that point of really knowing. Maybe I’ll forever be searching out this person who can be defined by a label or a category.
But, for now, I am just me: a writer, artist, geek, class clown, adventurer, leader, fashionista, sporadic, camera obsessed, storyteller traveler who thinks of impossible things and jumps at the chance to take on new experiences. It’s not a perfect identity, and it sometimes feels like I’m being pulled in fifteen different directions, but I am me. I am both a dreamer and a doer, an academic and an artist. I sketch pictures of superheroes and modern fashion trends. I live in the present, but I’m in love with the past. I’m a reader and a writer. I am of Africa and I am of Ireland.
But most of all, I am loved.
More than I ever knew before. More than I ever could have imagined.
And that, is the greatest part of my identity that I ever could have discovered.
(Also, I’m going back to Ireland in a month!! I’m so excited!)
A giant thank you to my darling friend, Liz for mailing me my favorite Girl Scout cookies. I am one happy expat.
If you like to travel smart, like I do (aka with basically no money) then you probably want to be smart about the little “extras” you buy when you travel. It can be really hard to know what you should pay the additional price for when you’re out traveling the world, so I thought I would let you all in on some of the little somethings that I paid extra for, and that I didn’t regret! Ok, ready? Let’s go!
This was the highlight of my Berlin trip. Since I was traveling in an off season it was just me, one other girl and our Australian tour guide, who was amazing. The tour I took was about the Nazzi regime in Berlin, and was fascinating. I don’t know how my tour guide remembered all of the 3 HOURS worth of information, but he did. He also was the one who clued me in on the football match happening the next day, for which I am forever grateful. I just never would have known the history around the city without taking this tour, and I’m so happy I decided to do it! Oh, and the tour was FREE! (But, of course, you can tip your tour guide) Look for the blue umbrella!
Headset, Van Gogh & Ruks Museum, Amsterdam:
I normally don’t pay the additional 5 or 10 euro to pay for the headsets at museums, but I decided to “splurge” while I was in Amsterdam, and I paid for them in 2 museums. I was SO happy I did. Mainly because when you’re in a museum like the Van Gogh Museum you really need (I think) to know the stories behind many of his paintings. I feel like I know Van Gogh so much more, now, having heard about the inspiration behind his works and the beautiful paintings that he created.
The first day I was in London I was handed a pamphlet from the “Original Sightseeing Company.” I didn’t think much of it, but then I read that they were having a sale so I decided to buy a weekend (3 day) pass. SUCH A GOOD IDEA. The buses were hop-on-hop-off so I could catch them all over the city, meaning I used them for sightseeing and for regular transportation, too. I learned so much more about the city, and it was a great way to still be around people, while traveling alone. (It also came with a river tour ride – all for 25 pounds!)
Rather than just fly from place to place I like to see if I can find trains or boats, or other modes of transportation that allow me to see the countries I’m traveling through. Sail and Rail is a great option when going around the UK/Ireland because for one ticket you get all the different modes of transportation covered (whether that’s bus, train or ferry). Also the ferries from N. Ireland to Scotland are beautiful.
French lessons before moving to France:
This is a little different from the others, but I still really think it’s important to put on here. I DO NOT know what I would have done without my French tutor before coming to France. I probably would have died. I had a really great teacher, so make sure you find the right one, but it was invaluable to pay for lessons before moving here. While I had taken years of French lessons, I hadn’t said a word in French for so long that it was really important to be able to work with someone who was French and brush up.
Being born and raised in the Northwestern United States, specifically the Seattle region means I’m no stranger to the word hipster. In fact, I’d say that word and I are long lasting friends. We’ve been through a lot together, including strange haircuts, overly artistic and moody experiments and a nose piercing and tattoo my mom would rather I didn’t talk about. That being said, when I travel I generally look for the hipster vibe in my days there. At first it wasn’t on purpose, then I tried NOT to find those little places that you’ve probably never heard of. But finally I faced it – I am a hipster, and I am okay with that. Maybe you are too – maybe we all are – but regardless, here are some of my favorite hole-in-the-wall-small-time-you’ve-probably-never-heard-of-them stops.
This coffee shop is actually connected with the adjoining hotel and I absolutely fell in love with it during my time in Amsterdam. It’s not hard to see why! The staff was so incredibly nice, the food was amazing and even the tea was incredible. I was surprised how empty it was when I was there, but my hipster soul was glad of it. It’s no wonder I visited four times in two days!
Ok, so this is actually a pretty popular stop spot in Galway, BUT if you walk inside you’ll understand why it’s added to my list. The whole enormous space is stacked top to bottom with vintage books (and new!) and it has that “curl up and never leave” vibe that makes me want to grab my hipster glasses and take some epic Instagram photos – filtered to the highest degree possible.
When in doubt, name your store exactly what it is. It’s a kind of ironic beauty that you really can’t compare. At this store I bought a 2″ x2″ canvas which I still haven’t painted anything on it, but I kind of love that I could buy canvases that were small enough to fit in my palm. The location of this store is also pretty hipster awesome because it’s right across the street from the Duke Of Wellington statue, which can often be found sporting his crown of a hot orange traffic cone.
Like being surrounded by a log cabin interior without leaving the busy city? Well, this is the spot for you! Not only was it dark, poetic and all lit up with candles and dimmed lights, but it was filled with a kind of 1920’s prohibition era spirit. Whether you’re looking for a place to read moody things, or to go for a late night drink (WARNING: No WiFi here – way too mainstream), this is definitely a top spot I love.
For those days when marathoning Downton Abbey just isn’t enough, you have Cupan Tae to pull you through. Not only is this one of the cutest tea shops I’ve ever been in (or should I say “Tae shops”?) but the staff who works here is just absolutely the nicest. Not only did they charge my phone (I brought the wrong charger for Ireland) but they were attentive and the tea was sublime. A must stop shop for anyone looking for a delicious bite to eat, or a cup of tea to keep you going.
Honestly, this is all I think of when I say the words “Cup” and “Tea.”
The title of this post is a little restrictive, because I think these are good things to remember for a lot of smaller airlines. But since this weekend I’m flying with RyanAir, I’m going to focus on that one specifically.
Smaller airlines can be great for traveling within shorter distances, specifically within Europe, for me. This past weekend I flew from Paris to Dublin and the ticket was significantly cheaper than if I had flown out of CDG, which is the main/largest airport in Paris. That being said, there were quite a few “lessons” I learned while flying, and some red tape I dodged, but saw other people fall victim to.
So, to save you all some stress – hear are some things you need to know when flying with smaller airlines (specifically RyanAir):
1. Luggage: When getting ready for your trip remember that smaller airlines have very specific luggage restrictions for carry-ons. This is a big way they make money, from unsuspecting travelers, so if you don’t want to pay the surprise 50 euro additional charge, for bringing a bag that’s too large – make sure you check the measurements. Weight doesn’t really seem to be an issue, but the wrong size luggage will have you bleeding cash.
2. Boarding passes\checking in: When you get the email confirmation a few days before flying out DO NOT ignore it. Check in online right then. They don’t announce this, but if you read the small writing you’ll notice that, by checking in at the airport you actually get charged 70 euros. Also make sure to print your boarding passes for both ways!
3. Finding your airport: The way RyanAir keeps their prices cheap is by being in relatively inconvenient places, most of the time. This means, if you’re looking for a flight make sure to double check that the flight isn’t going out of some little airport in the middle of nowhere (unless you’re okay with that). If your flight is leaving from a major airport, the baggage check is probably going to be in the least convenient spot in the airport, so make sure you don’t arrive 10 minutes before your flight.
4. Checking in at the airport: If you aren’t an EU citizen you MUST go to the bag check BEFORE you go to security so they can check your passport and stamp your boarding pass (which you’ve already printed and brought from home, so you don’t pay 70 euros!). Without doing this, they will not let you on the plane (even after you go through security) and if it’s not an easy run back, you might actually miss your flight when they make you go back to get your boarding pass stamped.
5. Boarding your flight: Planes have a front and back entrance so PLEASE, for the sanity of everyone else, don’t board in the front door if you’re supposed to be seated in row 30. You’ll be crawling over people, causing congestion in the aisle, and just generally causing chaos. If your seat number is anything higher than 16, you should just head to the back door for boarding. Believe me, it makes a world of difference.
Galway was such a dream to go to this weekend. I honestly wish I hadn’t had to come back, but all good things must come to an end…for now, at least. I forgot the right adaptor while I was in Ireland, so my phone died right after I got there. Luckily, I had my trusty Nikon, whom I love, to take photos with. Here are some of my favorites – I can’t wait to make another trip back in the Spring!
If my grandmother could see the tea shop I’m sitting in right now she would cry from happiness. Why? Because the entire place is the dream of anyone who loves Victorian things. As my Couchsurfing host told me yesterday, “Everything is covered in flowers.” The name of the shop is Cupan Tae, and it’s pretty well known in the city, from what I can tell. That doesn’t take away any of the magic, though. There is classic 1920’s music playing in the background, and the room is small and cozy with baby chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I love it.
I do have a bit of a bias, though, because the staff is using their charger to charge my phone, because I brought the wrong adaptor, and it died last night. Which means my ability to tell where I am or what time it is died with it. The shop is lovely, though, and it’s reminding me how much I miss small tea shops. Or just anything small and quiet. Small doesn’t really seem to exist in Paris and it kind of breaks my heart. Sitting here, I’m also realizing just how much tea I drink. I think I have a mild addiction.
Yesterday was so beautiful because I arrived on one of those rare winter days that’s sunny and not really cold. My Couchsurfing hosts were a couple (she was German, he was Irish) who took me on a much needed walk along the sea. I needed sea air so much. After our walk we jumped into this little restaurant, and I had the absolute best apple crumble. I don’t know why I always seem to be eating dessert when I travel. Believe me, it’s only when I’m traveling.
My Irish host reminded me so much of my grandpa, that it kind of made me homesick. You have to understand, my grandpa (every bit the stereotype of his Irish blood) is a storyteller to surpass all others. He can walk down the street, or go the grocery store, and come back with tales of daring deeds, near death experiences and his ultimate conquer of all feats. That being said, he is a quiet man. But when it’s time for a story, the whole room falls silent. We all know half the facts are exaggerated and that some things probably never even happened, but that’s okay. Its understood by the listeners that THAT is what makes the stories worth listening too. That’s how the stories are used to make you laugh, cry or want to venture out into the world and conquer it.
In the same way that some people learn to sing by their family being musical, I learned to tell stories from sitting and listening to my grandfather spin tales. Yesterday was very much like that. Everything we walked by had a story. Half of them probably weren’t true, but all of them were welcome. The best part was the thrown in profanities throughout the stories, which seemed not only natural but completely necessary – there were a lot of: “Christ almighty” “Shite” and “Fucking hell”. (I’m not swearing on my blog, mom – I’m quoting someone).
This weekend was so incredibly needed. I’ve felt so stale in Paris, and now I just want to curl up and write a hundred stories with a giant pot of tea. There’s something about coming back to this country, and something about being near the sea, that energizes and revitalizes me. In a way that no other place can.
The first time I came to Ireland I thought it would be that way when I traveled anywhere, but now that I’ve traveled so much more I’m realizing that’s just not the case. This is the exception, not the rule. I think my Couchsurfing host said it the best yesterday: “Sometimes, you just have a deeper connection with the land. I’ve traveled around, but I never feel as much as peace as I do in Ireland.”
I’m already planning my trip back in the spring\summer. I can’t wait.
No matter how early I plan to leave the house, somehow I always end up running for some mode of transportation. But today it wasn’t my fault. Really. I got up on time, I was at the door on time – but then I opened it. Huge white flakes were falling from the sky. They fell a little too fast, since it wasn’t quite cold enough to snow; only half of them surviving long enough to cover the ground in a thin sheet of almost white. Snow. I finally saw Paris in the snow.
It would have been a lot more exciting had I not realized that I wasn’t dresses for snow – but was venturing out in it, nonetheless. The reasons for my negligence mainly being because it wasn’t in the forecast, and then also just because who dresses for snow while traveling for a mini vacation to Ireland? Umbrella. I needed an umbrella. And as I fumbled my way through the house, I could not for the life of me, find one. WHERE WAS MY UMBRELLA?!
Ok, so maybe it was kind of my fault, because 8 minutes is a rather long time to look for an umbrella, when you’re supposed to be in a “rush.” But I finally found it!! And then it was a run/half skid effort down the hill to the train station. The scanner on the stop said 28 minutes until the next train, which meant I had just missed the train. But, wait. I was 3 minutes early! I prayed it was wrong because, if not, I was cutting it deadly close for catching a connecting metro and, ultimately, the bus to the airport. (A funny story about the airport I’m flying out of, I’ll tell you another time.)
I don’t think I’ve mentioned before how I’m getting to Galway, Ireland. Allow me to do so, now:
Walk ->Train -> Metro -> Bus -> Plane -> Bus -> Stay 24 Hours -> Bus -> Plane -> Bus -> Metro -> Train -> Walk
I know. I got a headache just typing that. But amazingly, with all that, it’s still cheaper than flying direct just to Dublin. Which is cool, because I’d rather go to a city I haven’t been to, before, and I like the idea of taking a bus ride across Ireland on a sunny (albeit cold) Saturday.
Also, the sea. I can not wait until I’m by the sea. Living in land-locked Paris has been slowly draining my soul. I need to be by the salt water air to feel whole. I need to hear waves, and see seagulls flying overhead. Also, I just really miss speaking English and eating fish and chips. Real talk.
So I’m on my way! I’m so excited, even though I’m only halfway through my journey there, right now. Here’s to weekend adventures!
Early tomorrow morning (We’re talking 4am, early) I’m going to be headed out on the second of, what I have a feeling will be, many weekend vacations while I’m living in Europe. As I was getting ready tonight, I thought I would share some thoughts on what I do when getting ready for one of these mini vacations. Packing definitely isn’t as extreme as going on a two week long backpacking trip, and the more I travel the more I get my own routine of knowing what I’ll actually need vs. what I just want for whatever reason. Here are my top 10 packing tips for when I’m getting ready to go on a weekend adventure!
Fully charge all electronic devises: If you don’t use your electronics a TON, you might even avoid having to pack cords at all, by doing this. I always bring my phone cord with me, of course, but I really try to only have that. My tablet has an 8 hour battery life, and my camera has more than that, so usually I’m good without 12 cords in my bag.
Print out all boarding passes/tickets IN ADVANCE: Save time and stress by printing boarding passes and any tickets – or really anything that you can print beforehand. This is especially great when you’re running late and have to jump straight on your plane/bus before it leaves. Not that I’ve ever had to do that *cough*.
Take a shower before you leave your house: Whether it’s the night before, or the morning of (depending on how early your flight is/how much sleep you want). I usually opt for the shower the night before, because I like to sleep in until the absolute last minute possible, and I fly out at ungodly hours because it’s cheaper. The basic rule is just to take a shower before you leave the house. You’ll feel better traveling clean, and you never know when the next shower will be.
Go to bed early: This is the hardest rule for me, but it’s so important. And also the reason I’m going to bed now, even though I’m usually a late night owl. It’s so important to get some sleep before you travel. It cuts down on stress, and helps you enjoy your trip, rather than feeling like you’re going to pass out. Believe me, I’ve tried the “pull an all nighter” before an early flight – it has NEVER been a good idea.
Pack snacks/water: I’m such a huge snacker. When it comes to being lost, delayed or just sitting in a strange country/city, having a familiar snack really does a world of good. Also chocolate – just always pack a chocolate bar. This was probably the best travel advice I ever received. My snack favorites? “Naked” blueberry juice, Pringles, apples.
Grab the “little things”: I also always check over the little things that make or break a trip for me. For instance: I’m super light/sound sensitive when I sleep, so I always travel with an eye mask (also good for plane sleeping) and earplugs (also good for plane sleeping) which both are really important for me getting a good night’s rest in a strange place.
Pack a book to read/journal: I love taking a book to finish when I’m traveling. I absolutely love reading while I travel, especially when I’m in airports etc. so I always try to find an interesting read beforehand. For this trip I’m hoping to finish “Journey To The Center Of The Earth.”
Lay out your travel plans: I like to set out all of my travel plans (making sure I have maps etc. for where to catch buses) all set out so I don’t have to wonder where I’m going when I’m tiredly trying to navigate in the morning.
Sticky note anything you might forget in the morning: Whether it’s something charging overnight, or something you want to grab in the fridge – write it down! When it comes down to it, you don’t need/want the extra stress of trying to remember things that you’re going to be really sad forgetting to pack, just because your brain was on overload in the rush of the minute.
Download music appropriate to the place: I do this just for fun. An example is that I downloaded the “Sound of the sea” soundtrack tonight in “preparation” for my Ireland trip!
Darkk Horse Travel 
