Random Musings of a Wandering Traveller

So I came into Kilkenny (which was reccomended to me by a really nice Italian girl I shared a hostel with in Killarney who has volunteered to host me when I get to Parma and show me around some.:D ) yesterday afternoon and it really is a very pretty city.. I was lucky enough to come into town in the midst of the annual Gaelic Festival, so there are lots of things going on aside from the usual castles and cathedrals (Not that I don't love castles and cathedrals.. I'm on my way to see Kilkenny's offerings now!). So tonight I am going to make my way up to St. John's Church and see a choral concert. I'm really quite excited. I love choral music, and there will be choirs there from Scotland, Ireland and Wales, I'll let you know how it goes. Anyway, I got off my bus and set off on the search for my hostel... Now, I'm cheap.. I mean really.. It's kind of rediculious sometimes... So my hostel is almost always a ways away from the center of town.. This was no exception.... It's not too far, definitely in walking distance (Then again, everything in Kilkenny is)... But I should have turned away when I realized that the front door was locked and that you had to ring to have someone let you in... But I didn't, always optamistic.. Anyway, a nice Slavic man came to the door and let me in... The hostel is called Macgabhainns... Now, I don't speak Irish... But my guess is that in English, Macgabhainns translates into something like "shit box"...

Ok, I'm being slightly unfair... The two men who seem to be running the place are both very, very nice, and helpful.. However.. That said... The place is a hole... The carpet is super old and super stained... My room is a 6 bedroom dorm and technically, there are six beds.. However you kind of have to turn sideways to get in the door, and in order to get into my bottom bunk I have to crawl through a space about three feet wide between the end of another bunk and the ladder to the bunk above me...

It's like my own private cave (which is not quite as exciting as it sounds) and the view out the window is a little depressing...

Anyway, my roomates only add to the allure of the place. It seems that I am bunked with two formally homeless men... Now I say formally because technically, they're living in my room now... But I have reason to believe that recently (as in, say, yesterday...) they were sleeping in a more... How to put this gently... open air enviroment... One man (I think he said his name was Julien (but said with a french accent) is a self described artist originally from England who spent his day sitting at the kitchen table colouring the same picture over and over again... the other man is Spanish and spends the day sitting in the living room, watching tennis and mumbling to himself... Both seem nice enough (relax Mama, I'm perfectly safe..), just.. quirky... Well I'm off to see more of the city. I'll write again from Cashel. Love you!

So I've spent the last few days in a tiny (TINY) village called Doolin on the west coast of Ireland.. It is beautiful and authentic and slow moving and fantastic. I was staying in a hostel right beside a little river.. But in all honesty, it felt more like somone's house than a hostel.. It was super cozy, and the manager Karl was thirty-seven kinds of fantastic. During the days there were heaps of things to do and at night we sat around a peat fire (which smells AMAZING by the way) and I read or sewed patches on my backpack.. It was really relaxing and lovely.. My first full day there I decided to go to the Cliffs of Moher, I was going to take the bus, but Karl told me about a trail that lead along the cliffs edge all the way to the lookout point.. It sounded great, and since the map said it was only about three miles I figured it was totally do able... Maps. *scoffs*. To be fair, it was a BEAUTIFUL walk... Ok.. Not so much a walk as a hike... Uphill... through a death defying obstacle course...

Some of it was really easy..

Most of it wasnt...

And some of it was just plain terrifying...

Anyway, I got to the lookout, found out I had missed the last bus back and was going to have to walk.. Which wouldn't have been so bad if it had actually only BEEN three miles way... Instead of eight... Turned into a seven hour and sixteen mile trek round trip.. But in the end, I got some AMAZING pictures, and I made it out alive so it was totally worth it.. But I'm not sure I would do it again....

Now, the next day I decided to take it easy and go for a slow bike ride, about eighteen miles, but on a bike that isn't bad... That was the plan... Unfortunately there were two routes.. The shorter, easier eighteen mile route, and the forty mile, more strenuous route.. Now I set out planning to take the shorter route.. But.. I missed my turn, and by the time I'd noticed it was too late and I was stuck... Forty miles.. Jesus.. My arse is sooooooo sore... Anyway.. my plan for the next couple days is just to take it really easy and maybe walk around town a bit... Take it easy from all this relaxation...

I've been on this trip for just over three weeks.. I'm in Ireland now, in a tiny little village called Doolin (famous for it's traditional music) on the west coast and it is absolutely amazing... Now.. I know you guys read this to hear of my travels and see the things I see... But that isn't what this blog is going to be about, this one is a little more serious and personal.. No funny stories, or anecdotes.. So, knowing that, if you decide to keep reading, great. But if you choose to pass, no hard feelings.

I went on a daytrip to Aran Island a couple of days ago... A small island off the west coast of Ireland where the first language is Gaelic, and people still live in the traditional manner. After we docked, I rented a bike and set off on a six mile ride around the island. It was beautiful, very gusty... But beautiful. About halfway through my ride (and at a point where I was walking my bike up a huge hill) I looked around me and realized that I was smiling.. Not a little grin but a huge smile.. I was happy.. Genuinely happy.. And I was amazed at how much that shocked me. I've always thought of myself as a happy person, as someone who was doing what they wanted to do and loving it. It suddenly struck me that I haven't been truly happy in years.. YEARS!... Sure, I had happy times, things that made me feel happy, people that made me smile and things that put me in a good mood, but not happy in thr truest sense. So I parked my bike on the side of the trail, had a seat on a rock and started thinking, and recalling... For the past five or six years, I've been going through the motions. Pretending to be content and happy with where my life has taken me, both to convince the people around me, and more importantly... To fool myself into believing it. But if I am strictly honest with myself, these are the truths of the past few years.

- I knew the men I was involved with previously weren't honest.. But this was a situation I knew how to deal with and so I stayed...
- I hated Seattle. No. I mean REALLY hated Seattle.
- I was depressed and incredibly lonely.
- I hated my jobs (although not with Patrick)
- I feel like I was always trying to be someone I'm not... There are very few people in the last six years who saw the REAL me... I was usually just acting the part of who they wanted me to be. Curbing to THEIR needs and expectations.
- I spent most of my time living for other people. Doing things they wanted/needed me to do, as opposed to doing what *I* wanted/needed.

Those realizations hit me hard. I mean *REALLY* hard. It was the first time that I had allowed myself to know/hear those things. The flip side was, that for the first time, in as long as I could remember... Sitting on that rock, in the middle of a small island of the coast of Ireland, with gusts of wind almost blowing me off my precarious seat, I was happy... I mean, absolutely, genuinely happy. Not just happy ABOUT something... Not happy BECAUSE of something.. Just happy, and content, and free... By coming on this trip... I was finally doing something for *ME*.. Just me. No one else. No ulterior motives. Wow... I don't remember ever the last time I felt this way... And it feels *SO GOOD*! So, that is my story, only three weeks into my trip and I've already found what I have been looking for for the past six years...

Ok, so I've worked something out so that everyone (or those who want to...) can phone me for free.. If you dial my voicestick number (14253361044 it's a US number.) it will forward to my cell phone here and since it's a US call, you shouldn't have to pay anything... I miss you guys, Call me!