Day 9: May Eve (no photos)

It could have been November Eve, instead of May Eve. Crows flocked and circled in a darkening sky thick with clouds as we walked beneath the trees. They wore their ivy close, as if it were a blanket against the cold wind, protecting branches otherwise dark and empty overhead. Their tight buds of new leaves…

Day 8: Sailing on a Suitcase Full of Dreams

(thanks to Declan O’Rourke for that title) Today fits best into a series of vignettes. Today I brought home a wealth of new food from the Dingle Farmer’s market. A middle-aged lady baker, a young pie-maker in a floppy knit hat, a French charcutier with a blended accent so thick I could barely follow him……

Day 7c: The Lighthouse And Beyond

In my beachy diversion, I’d crossed a good bit of ground towards the lighthouse, and it loomed ever closer. But then off to my right, I caught a flash of motion. One of these beautiful birds – who looked to have a wingspan longer than I am tall – had abruptly taken a dive from…

Day 7b: Black And Lavender and Plum

And green and white and grey besides. These were the colors of the beach. I don’t just mean these flowers, though they were some of the first colors I encountered when I picked my way down the rocks towards the sea. I might not have found the others but for a series of old concrete…

Day 7a: Loneliness and the Lighthouse Quest

Homesickness finally caught up to me last night. Then after falling asleep with my heart aching, I woke up too early, the sky dark outside the window, and found the feeling still present, like an unwelcome stranger sitting on the edge of my bed. So I tossed and turned and stewed and missed everyone I…

Day 6: Dallying in Dingle

Just a bit of a jaunt today, to go pick up some tickets for the arts festival. It starts tomorrow, though most of the events I want to attend are Friday-Sunday, so if my foot is doing a little better I’ll likely walk out to the lighthouse instead. In any case, Dingle is dense with…

Day 5b: Scholars by the Sea

Colaiste Ide (many pronunciation-critiical diacritics missing from this spelling, btw, but I’m on a tablet so what can you do) was a school, it turns out. The sign should have been a hint: If only I read Irish – but that’s the hint you see Along the road, these are the things that make you…

Day 5a: Faded Lines

It was time to walk again, or so it felt. The return of the blister on my left foot tells me either I’m wrong or I need a new sock solution (I bought a fancy double layer sock on that exact note after I got back) but regardless I had quite a stroll today. The…

Day 4c: Guys This Apartment is Great and I Cooked In It

So my digs in Dingle (sorry, opportunities to alliterate with Dingle are hard to pass up) are, in two words, fucking grand. How we both felt on arrival The apartment is huge, well appointed, and MINE, ALL MINE. Oh and it has a view of the beautiful hills and bay (and the carpark below but…

Day 4b: The Ride to Dingle

Most of my day yesterday was spent on train or bus. However, I saw a lot of beautiful things. So in the style of Day 1, let’s do another digest segment: Things I saw: Castle ruins, unremarked and unsigned, walls crumbling and green with moss and spring grasses. A black-and-white calf nuzzling upward to its…

Day 4a: How to Fail at Laundry

Step 1: When your hosts tell you exactly how they dry their laundry, do not at any cost do what they just told you. This is the most important step. Step 2: Instead of hanging your laundry out to dry overnight in the nice warm living room in the style that your hosts described, instead…

Day 3: Whiskey

Most of the day was deliciously boring. I realized I’d spent nearly every waking minute since I left home either walking as training, reading history, or working on this blog, and figured it was about time to remember that I am in fact technically on holiday and maybe I could sit down and actually rest…