Busyness and Distraction - It's Entertaining

As of late I’ve been feeling quite good rambling along a path of nuts and bolts but the practicality of reason has once again caste me under a spell of distraction in the form of busyness. Keenly focused and driven I proceed rapidly forward prioritizing the now in exchange for the later. Creativity takes a backseat as I reverse into an old familiar pattern. However, this time it feels a little different. Distraction is the culprit. I see it plain as white.

We live in a world full of distractions. Distraction seems to be a way of being nowadays with busy schedules, commercial clogged television, radio with more commercials, cell phones, and the Internet with a million and one ways to chew up time compliments of senseless viral videos. Not to mention, more commercials. In away it feels good to be distracted. It’s entertaining.

I don’t miss getting rid of the TV a year ago but I must admit I spend a little more time on the computer because of doing so. My work necessitates that I spend time on the internet but I frequently get off track as I check a news story or quickly look up the answer to a spontaneous question that pops up in my mind.

With technology exponentially speeding up our lives it’s a blessing and a curse. Sometimes I feel like it’s more of a curse. Although it’s easier to keep tabs on friends and acquaintances friendships tend to be more shallow. Everyone is spread so thin. For example, I have over 300 facebook friends but there’s only a few I’d say I really know. Out of those few there’s a much lesser number I’d say I actually communicate with on a semi regular basis about anything of real meaning.

Don’t get me wrong. I like the internet and have benefited greatly from it, however, I also think it’s changing how people relate and interact with one another. Social media is redefining what a friend is. Face time with verbal communication complemented by body language, facial expression and emotion just isn’t all that necessary anymore. If one is lucky enough they can jockey for a time slot in a friends busy schedule for a 30 minute coffee between appointments. If not this week, then the next. Everyone is so busy these days.

Social media seemingly makes the world a smaller place but it’s also a wonderful medium for misunderstanding and misinformation. What is meant to help bring the world closer together for the better is actually creating more serious extremes in my opinion but that’s another story. Just got distracted for a moment.

Technology with all its sleek and seductive appeal can open up more opportunities but it can also lead one further from who they really are. Distraction can be like a drug. It feels good not to feel when there’s something a person doesn’t want to feel. In an elusive way it can be allowed to define who or what an individual becomes. The Media moguls are wizards at defining what is in, hip, and cool. Under the right circumstances distraction is given an opportunity to define what we are.

So, what to do about distraction? Well, I guess it depends on the person but I’d say give yourself a moment without caffeine, alcohol, or and other kind of mind altering anything and spend a day or two with nothing as company. No plans, no schedules, no TV, no cell phone and no computer. I’d suggest going for a long walk. Don’t be enticed by Mr. Should. Under these circumstances most people won’t know what to do with themself and will feel kind of uncomfortable. After all, it’s really a waste of time? The individual will likely become distracted by the thought of what to do coupled with a wasting time feeling. Naturally they will revert to whoever they think they are or know they are. As I said before, distraction feels good. Might as well get busy again. Don’t want to waste any time.

i/itsec - Trade Show / Conference

Autorama was over a week ago and with just one day off to wrap up loose ends I hopped a plane to Orlando, Florida to attend the cutting edge i/itsec conference to help a good friend with Air Medic Sky One. If you want to be on the inside and up to date with the latest in simulation technology i/itsec is a must. The conference’s main focus is on military training but civilian response departments in the arena of law enforcement, fire fighting and medical are also represented. I dusted off some clothes I hadn’t worn in a while and oiled up a rusty pitch for a 3 day step back into the professional world.

Before mastering my skills of traveling the planet on a low budget I spent two years in Boulder, Colorado fully immersed within a startup company. Wild Divine was/is a biofeedback product in a game like format developed by my best friend Corwin who I’ve known since college. During my time with Wild Divine I wore many hats that included sales/marketing, project development/management, trade show organization, and customer/tech support.

To make a long story short I learned an enormous amount working for Wild Divine but in the process became thoroughly burned out. As is the case for most startup's new management moves in, things change, and I was more or less pushed out while being too tired to fight it. I didn’t like the direction the company was headed and didn’t really fit in anyway. I left on civil terms and good references along with an in to promising job possibilities in the Bay Area. I wishfully hoped my stock options would pay off at some point and decided to leave the corporate environment indefinitely.

I left Colorado in October of 2004. At first I went to Texas for a couple of months then headed to the Caribbean for four months. I’ve been traveling off and on ever since. The persona of World Traveler and Thinker appealed to me so I’ve employed myself to live up to the title. Needless to say it’s been interesting and fun.

As I stepped into the i/itsec arena I was surprised how fast my experience with Wild Divine chimed in. As I walked about the trade floor I felt an ease in familiarity with understanding how a professional trade show/conference works. Talk when you know what you’re talking about and keep your mouth shut when you don’t. Ask questions, observe, and listen. Have fun in knowing that people are people regardless and an intelligent easy going personable manner will get you further than just about anything.

Most of the technology on display involves interactive computer graphics. Not long ago Corwin was commissioned to develop an interactive biofeedback game for a hospital in Holland that addresses doctor patient safety. Corwin was up for an award at i/itsec and invited me along as support. Although I was not fully up to speed with the new software I was project manager for the hardware while at Wild Divine. My name is included on the patent for the finger sensors.

Air Medic Sky One utilizes biofeedback hardware comprised of three finger sensors. Two sensors monitor galvanic skin response and one sensor monitors variable heart rate. With sensors attached to finger tips the data is read by a small box connected to a computer via USB. The data interacts with the software. The software provides real time feedback in the form of subject appropriate animated challenges. For example, relaxed breathing changes colors in a garden and energized breathing fills a syringe. In between biofeedback challenges there are more traditional question and answer exercises that help doctors make better decisions under times of pressure. The purpose of Air Medic Sky One is to improve a doctors decision making process while better understanding how to manage their own level of stress. The game accomplishes this by uniquely educating the player how the mind affects the body.

Kor from Holland flew in for the conference and three of us managed the small booth in the Serious Games section of iitsec. Although my pitch was rusty as I stumbled over words from time to time I really enjoyed the environment and felt quite at ease. My position was a little off to the side. After all I hadn’t worked on the project and clear marketing goals have not been established. Nonetheless, I hopped into the networking game and made new friends. With beer freely flowing around 4 pm from various booths amidst the trade floor I felt even more comfortable.

Numerous companies filled the convention center vying for government grants, private interests, and general attention from businesses in the trade. There was a wide variety of flight simulators on display and I had the opportunity to try a couple with a 180 degree view. One simulator mimicked G force for fighter pilot training. Some simulators utilized virtual reality eye wear for ground troop training. The most graphic training devices were real life manikins with serious injuries for medical training with life like organs that appear and feel real. One of the more interesting booths offered training on lightning quick medievac training. It was demonstrated by watching a reenactment of a suicide bomber in a tent. The display complete with noise, yelling, smoke and blood provided about as real a life simulation as you could expect.

At first I must admit I wasn’t sure how I felt about all of the military training content. Sometimes I think excessive preparation for war leads to war but on the other hand better trained troops hopefully lead to fewer casualties on both sides. Simulation is the safest training option.

During the Second evening at the conference I found myself at an upscale mixer with an open bar and people at the top of the trade. Corwin and Kor made some new contacts as I got to better know a couple of guys specializing in cyber security I met earlier in the day. It was quite a contrast from Autorama. It made me take pause and realize with the necessary drive and desire I could fall into a good opportunity within such an environment. Drive and desire are a key component for me because I’ve never been driven by power or money. I’ve got to like what I do.

At 1 pm on the last day of the conference we attended the awards ceremony for serious games. I wasn’t surprised when Corwin won First for Air Medic Sky One in the Business category. The final award was basically a best in show award. It was distributed to a competitor who had not won an award in the other categories. The presenter made it clear that Air Medic was as close a second as possible. In other words, it was like saying Air Medic was best in show but awards were not being duplicated. It was all done in good political fashion in my opinion.

Corwin is truly the most creative person I have ever known and he received numerous personal compliments from judges and i/itsec officials which were well deserved. That night we attended a Black Tie mixer and Banquet under dressed in a fashion only artist can get away with. The butter came in the form of a small duck with a fine aged steak and good cabernet.

In the end i/itsec was a wonderful diversion from the path I’ve been on. It’s caused me to ponder my position in the game of life. In some ways it showed me how far I’m living below my potential. In a time of so called economic woes I see boundless opportunity in a land of plenty. I guess it all depends on where you’re viewing the view from. As I tightly manage my nickels and dimes the trade off for me is that I’ve spent 6 months this year traveling around the world doing whatever I want to. That’s pretty damned good in my eyes. Still, there’s a longing to utilize my skills, knowledge, and life experience their full potential. On a scale of 1 to 10 I feel like I’ve settled on a 2 or 3. So, what am I going to do about it? We’ll see. You never know with me. Somehow, I think the best is yet to come.

Admiring Muscle Cars and Peddling Old Stuff - Autorama Houston

While picking for antiques and collectibles I don’t accumulate as much odd and interesting miscellaneous as I use to. However, over the course of a year I do pick up a fair number of items that qualify as desirable to some degree. When enough excess stuff piles up I seek out a venue or avenue to sell and recoup some nickels and dimes with the prospect of making a little profit. Since I usually don’t have much money in what I’m selling I keep prices low and reel in ones and twos at a time. A dollar here and there over a day of selling adds up to more than a six pack and hamburger. In other words it’s worth my while.

Since my last post I rode upon the coat tails of a classic car show that hosts a swap meet for those who sell interesting old stuff like I do. I moved into the George Brown convention center on a Wednesday and creatively decorated a 10x20 space full of everything from old records to advertising to beer cans etc. etc. From Thursday to Sunday I peddled goods to gear heads and nostalgia lovers of all types with most items going for less than $5. Over the course of the event I got to know George Washington well. He made 12 concrete standing hours a day worthwhile and I left with a lot less stuff than I arrived with. Not to mention I had fun.

As a swap meet vendor I got in an hour early each day before the show opened. I cruised the floor each morning viewing as fine a collection of Muscle Cars one could ever imagine seeing. Shelby’s, Goats, Super Bee’s, and Mopar’s just to name a few. It’s Hemi heaven and rat rod bliss with afternoon burn sessions out back. Autorama is a choice no B.S. event which draws a nice crowd. That's why I like it.

Boring Is Not A Part Of My Life

As of late I’ve been cruising briskly along a path in pursuit of nickels, dimes, and a smattering of dollars intermingled with a gem here and there. Such is the life of one who makes a living on their own peddling funky old stuff seen as antique or collectible.

In order to make it work I must make it happen. My sole motivator is me. My motivation is a certain kind of life experience ironically afforded by a so called bleak economy. From where I stand I still see all kinds of opportunity.

The political scene in the United States is a total mess but America is still a land of abundance. One of my favorite quotes from a rapper is, “If you’re not living the American dream, go out and get it. No one is going to give it to you”. If a person does nothing, nothing will happen. If a person does something, things will happen.

As of late my drive and energy have been high while I focus on replenishing fiscal reserves. However, creatively, I’m pretty much adrift in an old familiar vastness of someday and maybe this or that. In some regards focus comes easy. In other ways it’s fleeting and elusive.

Of course all work and no play make Jack irritable, frustrated and weird so I mix things up by dropping into a coffee shop, drinking a few beers, witnessing a joust to the death, or singing karaoke at a Texas Honky Tonk. Boring just isn’t a part of my life. If you ever see me in person and think I’m dull it’s probably because I’m preoccupied with a daydream or am in a temporary unsocial mood.

Well, the next two weeks are packed full of activity. When I’m consumed with my stance on home base the blog tends to take a backseat as I tend to this and that. After traveling through exotic lands everyday routine takes a little more effort to write about unless I creatively hone in on a story about a funny or peculiar happening in a timely fashion. My current intention is to post more often with a photo brief narrative. The more I write the easier it come. As with most things consistency is important.

The photo attached with this post was taken with a Vegan friend in a Texas Honky Tonk. The ceiling is covered with deer antlers and the walls are full of stuffed dear heads, guns, a bear skin rug etc.

Images Of West Texas

Along The River - Boquillas

I’ve already been back in Houston for a week. The day after I got back I dived into work and haven’t really given myself a chance to come up for air until now. The West Texas detour was a good one and I got in a lot for the amount of time I was gone. Plenty of sightseeing, hiking, and exploring along the banks of the Rio Grande.

Crossing the Rio Grande back and forth outside of an official border crossing can mean up to a $5,000 dollar fine for a United States Citizen. For a Mexicans caught on the Texas side it's a free trip back across the border, however, the intricacies of laws change and rules are quite different for either side. In America you’re innocent until proven guilty. In Mexico it’s the other way around.

I spent an afternoon along the border near Boquillas. Boquillas is a small Mexican village just across the river. It’s very remote and all of the roads are dirt. It resembles something right out of an old time Western Movie. Use to you could cross the border via boat (or wade) to drink a semi cool beer while picking up a couple of souvenirs.

In the summer of 1984 a friend and I went to Boquillas. The river was low and we could have waded but struck up a deal with a local man and a boat to take us across. When we got to the other side he wanted to charge us double. We refused to pay double and paid him what we agreed originally. On the Mexican side it’s a short walk into the village or you can hire a donkey. Since we had a dispute about the boat we sure as heck were not going to hire a donkey so we walked. When we arrived in the village there were no other tourists. Locals peered around corners and doorways like it was High Noon. Actually, I think it was around noon. No one was friendly. We met one sketchy gringo who said he was from Oklahoma and started telling us stories I was pretty certain weren’t true. After one semi cool beer and feeling uneasy the whole time we boogied back to the boarder and quickly walked past the boat guys not wasting any time wading back to the U.S. side. Boquillas did not give me a good feeling on that particular day.

Since that time Boquillas became less and less popular as the National Park discouraged tourists from visiting the village. Eventually the Department of Homeland security closed the border all together. Today it’s an interesting situation. The locals of Boquillas are forbidden to cross but they really need the gringo tourist dollar. I mean, it’s so remote and you have to wonder what they do for a living?

With the big enchilada just a river crossing away the locals do what they can. They reel in the Yankee dollar by quickly sneaking across the river and setting up a display of souvenirs. Trinkets are laid out with a price list and honor jar. Stop at a nice view point, canyon, or hot springs in the area and you will see walking sticks, scorpions made out of stripped copper wire, and quartz crystals nicely merchandized upon a boulder. On the banks of the Mexican side of the Rio Grande you’ll see the shop keeper who is watching everything. Make a purchase by placing money in the jar. When you leave and the coast is clear the enterprising local quickly crosses the river by horse, grabs the money, and returns to the Mexican side.

One of the most creative money making schemes I witnessed was at the opening of Boquillas canyon. Right at the entrance there’s a wonderful echo. A singing man named Victor, with a full rich classic Mexican voice, sits upon a large rock mass. As you walk up to the canyon he belts out a tune. Victor sits on the Mexican side. Two tip jars sit on the American side.

By chance this happened to be the only place I actually saw a Mexican on the U.S. side. At the time he was drumming up business for Victor while selling small Road Runner birds made out of copper wire and plastic beads. I never caught his name but he must be the mayor of Boquillas or something. He informed me that the border would be opening up again next spring and invited me to visit his village for tacos and cerveza. He was very friendly and I got the impression that the local people want to make things right when things re-open. I left a nice tip in a jar and purchased a Road Runner.

It’s another world across the the river and I hope things work out ok for the people of Boquillas when the border re-opens. I imagine it will be fine to visit. It’s far away and isolated from the other border towns which have become too dangerous due to drug trafficking and cartels. I think the people of Boquillas are more interested in peddling tacos, cerveza, and souvenirs.

Road Trippin West Texas - Big Bend

A straight shot down highway 54 through desert mountains and ranch country led me into the town of Van Horn and the intersection of interstate 10 which runs east/west from Florida to California. At Van Horn I jumped onto highway 90 and veered southwest while staring at a UFO for miles until I realized it was a blimp that's somehow used to detect drug smugglers and the like. From Marfa I got on highway 87 and headed south to the border of Mexico.

Just outside of Marfa there’s a Border Patrol check station. Heading south I was not required to stop but passed a bunch of hi tech equipment that appeared to be taking pictures of my car and license plate. Those heading north are stopped. As I proceeded on I saw very few cars.

Presidio is a border town in a very broad flat valley. I drove all the way to the border crossing then turned around and looped through town. Hot, dry, dusty and fairly depressed summed up my assessment of the place. It's what I expected but kind of interesting in its own way. The real reason for choosing the route was my desire to drive along the Rio Grande next to the border. I had been told that the road is so close that you can throw a rock into Mexico.

As I headed east along highway 170 things really started to get scenic as far as deserts are concerned. The road quickly leaves the flats of Presidio as it rolls towards the mountains and canyons of the Rio Grande. The highway itself is it excellent condition and most of the time you’re in Big Bend Ranch State Park so there are plenty of pull offs with some having interpretive information signs.

Along the way I stopped numerous times for photos, passed several border patrol, and easily threw a rock into Mexico. At one particularly scenic spot there’s the remains of an old Movie set with adobe buildings and shoddily built chapel, It’s right on the banks of the Rio Grande and has been used for 9 different films. Occasionally I’d see another car or motorcycle but needless to say the road does not see much traffic.

At the small resort village of Lajitas I continued on to Terlingua. Terlingua is a mining town gone bust turned ghost town. In the 1970’s Terlingua was a real ghost town except for once a year when a bunch of drunken crazies would move in for a chili cookoff. Eventually a hippie, an artist, a survivalist, and a few who just wanted to get away from it all started making some of the old buildings livable again. In time a few bars, a couple of coffee shops and small quirky hotels opened up. It’s now kind of a funky sort of West Texas Key West with a small year round population consisting of an eclectic mix of characters. I think it would be an interesting place to sit and write a book or something. However, I also sense it would be very easy to find yourself falling into a pile of Lone Star Beer Cans and wondering where the last few years went. It’s that kind of place.

Past Terlingua I entered Big Bend National and head up into the Chisos Mountains where I’ve set up camp for a few days to hike and explore the area. Yesterday I climbed the highest mountain in the Chisos Mountains and hiked along the South Rim of the Range. Today I explored back roads and hiked a bit in the Santa Elena Canyon. The weather has been warm and wonderful with mild nights but a dry cold front blew in during the day which means colder nights but still clear and mild days. All said, the desert scenery of Big Bend National Park is absolutely beautiful and unique in its own way compared to other desert regions of the USA.

West Texas via Denver

Sunday, October, 23

Two weeks ago I left Houston for Denver. I made the drive in a little over 16 hours. My fastest time yet for covering over a thousand miles in one push. I like to drive so time passes easily for me on the road.

I spent most of my time in Denver visiting my mother and doing misc. maintenance and painting around her home. The rest of my time was spent catching up with my sister, brother in law and nephew as well as a couple of friends. Time passed quickly but not before catching a Green Bay Packers game at the famous Rocky Flats Lounge and three rounds of bowling with my eleven year old nephew at the local neighborhood bowling alley. By the third game I bowled a 150. I felt pretty good about that considering I only bowl about once a year.

This morning I left Denver for a 10 hour drive due south to Guadalupe Mountains National Park where I’m camped for the night. As I left New Mexico I was reminded of the vastness of West Texas when I passed a sign warning 130 miles until next services. It’s wise to keep an eye on the gas gauge in this part of the country.

The campground at the National Park is pretty basic. It consists of walk in tent sites, one fairly large paved area for RV’s, and a restroom with no showers. It costs $8 for a tent site unless you’ve got a senior citizens pass, then it costs $4. Tonight I have a tent beneath a sky that’s surely full of billions of stars. On a clear dark night West Texas offers some of the best star gazing anywhere in the world. I guess that’s one of the benefits of being so far removed from services.

Guadalupe National Park, aside of a roadside view of the sheer cliff faced El Capitan, has little to offer the non hiker. It’s really a mountain desert hiking park. There’s a nice network of trials that weave throughout the arid mountains for a total of 80 miles. The two highlights are Guadalupe Peak, the highest mountain in Texas, and McKittrick canyon that proves to be a rare oddity with its strangely out of place Maple trees that bust out with color in the fall. Not many people know there are Maples in West Texas!

Tomorrow I plan to do an all day hike and stay for another night. From Guadalupe National Park I’ll continue south to Presidio on the Texas/Mexico border and traverse a road along the Rio Grande to Terlingua on the way to Big Bend National Park. It’s wild, rugged, dusty and remote yet beautiful desert country. It was once the stomping grounds for Apache Indians and Poncho Villa but now it’s more of running grounds for illicit drugs and illegal aliens. For this reason I have no intention whatsoever of crossing the border into Mexico or driving at night. Unfortunately, it simply isn’t safe anymore.

By time I'm done it will take about a week for me to get back to Houston. In a way it’s kind of like a readjustment excursion after my 5 month trip around the world. Whenever I return from long trip that involves a certain about of relatively exotic travel I'm certain to be somewhat changed. Hopefully for the better. After all of the foreign culture, different languages and multitudes of people I meet along the way it’s nice to retreat to a quieter more familiar environs. It gives me a chance to check in and realign myself with the ever constant process of personal growth and change.

Monday, October 24

As the retired Air force biker packed his Harley this morning he told me how he’s ridden in every state but Alaska and the road from Presidio to Bend Bend along the Texas/Mexican border is one of his top 5 favorite rides in the USA. I’ll definitely be headed there tomorrow.

Today my hike in the Guadalupe Mountains took me to the top of Hunter Peak and into an interior forested area known as the Bowl before heading down and out through a patch of colorful Maples in Bear Canyon. The hike took most of the day. With perfect sunny weather it did not disappoint. I took the photo atop the post this morning.

So, What Am I Doing? Ah, Good Question....

For the first two weeks upon my return I sailed right into a highly motivated work mode and successfully avoided making any real decisions about anything important. I was riding a nice wave avoiding the reef of change until I washed up upon a beach of exhaustion. I guess you could call it delayed post travel fatigue. I’ve been kind of tired and mildly unmotivated this past week. I really should get a haircut.

I was surprised by the quick pace of my daily runs as I strode along the paths near White Oak and Buffalo Bayous when I first returned. I guess it was all the walking abroad coupled with a dose of coolly sustained mild adrenalin that tends to be a byproduct of travel. However, last weekend, as I felt my pace slowing, I paused to ask myself, “What are you doing?” I replied, “Trying to make some money man. It takes money to live”. “Yeah, I know that. But what are you doing?” I talk to myself often. By doing so I can better see through my own misc. this and that. When I talk out loud it’s easier to distinguish when I’m being sensible or not.

Over the past week I’ve been dealing with the avoided issues while charging way too much on the Tarjeta Credico. Insurance, new tires for the car, dentist, etc. etc. Everything is more expensive. People ask, “How can you afford to travel so long?” My reply, “How can you afford to live in one place so long?”... It’s far less expensive for me to live traveling abroad. Go figure. However, I’ve got to make money somewhere, sometime and the USA, despite economic crisis and so forth, is still the best place on the planet with the most opportunities to make money. The dollar may currently be weak on the exchange but it’s still the currency of choice.

As of now I’m taking a step aside and am about to embark on a road trip to Colorado to visit family and friends. From Colorado I’ll likely return home via a longer route that will take me through West Texas. Once back I’ll have a new plan. This time for sure. I’m definitely going to change things in my realm of life at home. Wherever it be. Right now I actually have an ideal situation for my carefree travel ways but I feel a real need to go about things differently. Actually, I’ve been feeling the need for awhile.

So now, what am I doing? Good Question....

Around The World - It's A Wrap

Ireland was about as easy as it could get for an around the world journey. While traveling Ireland I kind of felt like I already had one foot back in the States. So many Irish have family in America and they love Americans. The majority of tourists in Ireland are from Germany and France. Speaking English made me feel even more connected to the Irish when a pub was filled with Europeans conversing in broken English as they struggled to understand a thick Irish accent. The icing on the cake was when I breezed through United States customs and immigration while still in the country at the Dublin Airport. Now that’s a first for me! Clearing U.S. Customs in a foreign country! Ireland is Easy with a capital E. If you have never been overseas or to Europe, start in Ireland.

I started my five month journey with a few days in Hong Kong. From there I spent 2 months in China with most of my time in the Yunnan and Szechuan provinces. Highlights of China included trekking in the Himalaya and spending time along the rarefied air of the China/Tibetan border. I capped off my time in China with a week and a half in Beijing which proved to be my favorite Chinese city.

From Beijing I hopped the Trans Mongolian railway to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia where I joined up with three other backpackers and we hired a local driver with a 4wd Russian made van for a tour of the wide open Mongolian Wilds. Unfortunately, due to Russian visa constraints, I had to leave Mongolia after just 2 ½ weeks and boarded a train for Russia and the Trans Siberian railway.

Russia was a pleasant surprise as I found, with just a little bit of effort, a seemingly hard and cold culture warmed up quickly with pleasant helpful smiles despite real language difficulties. Again, due to visa constraints I only had 2 ½ weeks to traverse the country by rail but made some great stops along the way. My favorite being Lake Baikal.

After visiting Lennon’s tomb and Red square in Moscow I hopped another train for Riga, Latvia which proved to be a lovely relaxing city with an over abundance of young 20 something women and young guys on the prowl from all over the world, every night. Riga made me laugh as the hostel was quiet every evening because most of the people staying at the hostel were young college aged men staying out until 7 am. I slept well as I’m not the type to pursue ladies all night who are young enough to be my daughter.

From Riga I traveled down to Lithuania and on to Warsaw, Poland. From Poland I blew across to Budapest then France. I kind of regret passing through Eastern Europe so fast. Eastern Europe is far more interesting than Western Europe and costs half as much than the West.

Once in France I took 3 weeks off from the traveling and planted myself next to small lake on the grounds of a Chateau near Mur de Solonge where I did a work exchange for the European Yoga Festival. The first week I really enjoyed but the last two weeks were a mixed bag. The highlight of my time spent in France was catching up with a good friend from Colorado who was attending the festival.

Leaving France was a bit of a low point for me as I was exhausted and plagued by three days of visual migraines which was quite unusual for me. The upside was that I was in the company of good friends from the festival as we made our way via Ferry to England.

In Britain I found my stride again, despite variable weather, as I walked for over 125 miles along the SW coast path of England. Miles of walking along with stops for pints at village pubs made me feel like my old self again. The walking left me feeling good.

From England I took a train to Wales and hopped a ferry to Cork, Ireland. From there I negotiated wacky weather up to a number of mountain tops including Carrauntuohil, Ireland's highest and Croagh Patrick where St. Patrick prayed for 40 days sometime during the 5th century. I hitched along the west coast in search of the perfect pint of Guinness which I naturally found in the East in Dublin when I poured it myself at the Guinness brewery.

I completed my travels with a rainy and at times VERY windy hike along the 80+ mile Wicklow way. It proved to be the perfect finish despite foul weather. It gave me time to mentally shift gears for home. The day before flying to the states I felt a satisfied “Done” kind of feeling. Just the kind of feeling you want for the flight home. I think I timed it right but once again I am astounded by how fast time passes. Five months felt like five weeks and at times, five days. All the more reasons to enjoy the gift of every moment.

So what did I learn? What are some takeaways? Well, here’s a few bullet points….

I really enjoy my own company and feel no need to rely on others for happiness. Expecting others to make you happy usually doesn’t work anyway…. Life is relatively easy as long as you don’t get in the way… Attitude creates your reality…. Money has a tendency to complicate life instead of making it easier…. Everybody in the world wants the same thing. To have a home, a job, to be with family, to be with friends and to feel safe…. Words get in the way of communication…. The universal language of kindness and peace is a smile…

Images From The Wicklow Way - Ireland

I just finished walking the 80+ mile Wicklow Way that extends north to south across the Wicklow mountains south of of Dublin. It was a blustery hike with plenty of rain along with sunny spells every now and then. I think Ireland gets the award for having the most unstable and changable weather of any place I've ever been. Nonetheless, the country is so beautiful that there's beauty to be seen no matter what the weather is doing.

Despite plenty of bad weather the hike proved to be exactly what I needed to wrap up over 5 months of travel and mentally shift gears for the trip back home.

With so much cloudy weather it was hard to take good photos on the hike but here's a few to give you an idea of what the Wicklow Way has to offer.

A Few More Days - Another Walk - Then Home

I should be home by now but when it came time for my predetermined flight time I just didn’t feel ready. You would think that after five months on the road I’d be more than ready but long term traveling has a way of becoming part of your identity. It becomes a way of life. I needed time to mentally shift gears and prepare myself for a transition back into a more conventional routine of work etc.

I called the airline and had no problem extending my time in abroad by six days in order to allow for one more excursion, a six day, eighty mile walk through the Wicklow Mountains of Ireland. I figured a good long walk would give me plenty of time to think of where I’ve been and where I want to go next. I needed to clear my mind and reset my focus.

My route of travel, since the last post, took me through Connemara and Westport where I hiked to the summit of Croagh Patrick. It’s the mountain where St. Patrick apparently prayed for 40 days sometime during the 5th century. It’s obviously a Pilgrimage mountain that draws a lot of visitors but there’s no way around a good stiff uphill hike if you want to visit the top. For an average person it take's 2 to 3 hours to gain the summit. On a clear day the views are spectacular. I hiked up in a foggy mist but played the waiting game atop and was luckily rewarded, after about half an hour, with the parting of cloud and blissfully blue sky. It lasted long enough to thoroughly take in the wonderful view.

From Westport I took a train to Dublin and checked into a cheap hostel with a good location and headed to the famed Temple bar area for a couple of pints. I then swung by a supermarket to pick up a few supplies for the Wicklow hike.

The Wicklow way is an establish way marked trail/route through the Wicklow mountains that begin just south of Dublin. It runs point to point, north/south, for a little over 80 miles. To begin the hike I simply walked to the bus stop directly in front of the hostel and rode #16 to Marley Park. From there I began hiking south.

The way is clearly marked with posts decorted by a yellow colored hiker silhouette and arrow. If you pay attention to the map and where you’re going the route is simple to follow. The way avoids towns but there’s an assortment of convenient accommodation options close to the trail or you camp.

As I write this post it’s my last night on the Wicklow way. I’m sharing a small bunkroom at a B&B with another hiker I met a couple of days ago from Belgium. Yesterday we camped in a farmer’s field while it rained all night long.

This morning we packed up a wet camp in rain and hiked on into the fog but by afternoon the skies became partly cloudy. That’s when the wind picked up. It only seemed fitting that we consume a pint at the small quaint 200+ year old Dying Cow pub before continuing a little further. Our end goal was a rural B&B that allowed camping. In exchange for a small fee there’s access to shower and cooking shelter.

There was no one at the simple B&B when we arrived but an older couple showed up and said their daughter owned the place. The wind was gaining force and camping was looking less and less appealing. The older couple let us in and fixed us a cup of tea while they tried to get their daughter on the phone. They didn’t want to let us go. In the end we settled on a wind free cozy bunkroom with a large full Irish Breakfast in the morning for 25 Euro each. The place is very quiet. The Belgian and I are the only ones here. It’s 9 pm and we still haven’t met the owner. I guess we will see her in the morning as she lives on property.

The walk along the Wicklow way has been quite lovely despite mostly rainy weather along with very strong winds on the higher ridges. Tomorrow I’ll finish it up and try to get back to Dublin by the evening. If not I’ll head to Dublin Monday morning and catch my flight home the following day. I’ll definitely be ready to go back to the States by then. All in all it's been exactly what I needed before going home.

Standing With A Sign At The Crossroads - Ireland

I awoke in my tent next to a river just outside a hostel in Doolin and made an executive decision to catch the 11:45 bus to Galway instead of the 8:45. Not a bad plan but I was unaware that the tourist season in Ireland ended precisely on August 27. The 11:45 was no longer an option so I’d have to wait until 1:45. It was 10 am and I was ready to go.

I found an empty cereal box, tore it apart and barrowed a marker from the hostel. I then headed out to a crossroads with a sign saying “Galway” to see what would happen. There were four options for getting to Galway from Doolin. Three different roads and a boat via the Aran Islands. I really didn’t have much of plan except that I thought it would be a good idea to go to Galway.

I stood with sign held in hand as people passed me by. Most gave me an apologetic expression. One exceptionally apologetic looking passerby stopped a bit far ahead and rolled back in reverse. With a thick Polish accent he said, “I can give you a ride to the next village where you will get a ride no problem”. The next village was just a few miles away. I noticed his checkered chef pants and assumed he was a breakfast chef/cook for a local B&B. Sure enough he was.

I never caught the name of my new Polish friend but he was extremely helpful and friendly. Aside of a thick accent his English was quite good. When he immigrated to Ireland 8 years ago he couldn’t speak a word of English. All of his jobs were working whatever in kitchens where everyone else was polish. About two years ago he took a job at a Fish and chips stand where not a single person spoke Polish. He was forced to adapt and I can vouch that his English is now quite good. Like other Pols I’ve met he was very helpful, friendly, full of life and seemingly very happy to living and working in Ireland. He dropped me in the village of Lisdoonvarna and strongly recommended I come back in a week for the Match Making Festival.

I stood next to the road displaying my sign for Galway with a smile for nearly an hour. I was getting cold in the cloudy wind and needed a toilet so I walked a short distance into to town, found a restroom and checked on a backup plan, a bus schedule. I then returned to the road with my sign.

A friendly old farmer stopped and offered a ride a few miles down the road between towns but I turned it down thinking I could get stuck and might miss my backup plan. Not much longer another vehicle stopped.

The car that stopped was actually a small delivery van. He told me to throw my pack in the back. When I opened the back door I realized it was refrigerated and full of fresh goat cheese. Instead I threw my pack in the front and made enough room for comfort.

The delivery drivers name is Liam. He’s been delivering one of the few fine Goat Cheeses of Ireland for 3 years. He keeps his work interesting by picking up hitch hikers. Mainly foreign backpackers. Liam informed me that I was the first American backpacker he had ever met during his time delivering cheese.

Liam said he was passing through Galway and he could drop me right in the center. He then went on to tell me he had a long day and was going beyond Galway into Connemara. The roads he would be driving are no longer served by busses since it was past August 27 so I asked if I could continue further up along his route. “Absolutely”, he cheerfully replied.

So, all afternoon Liam and I talked about Ireland as he pointed out things along the way. We also talked about the economic crisis that is facing Ireland and he told me stories how people would go to the bank asking for 50,000 Euros. A usual response from the bank, with no hesitation, was that they would not loan them 50,000 but they could loan them 100,000. In other words the banks were making people barrow more than they wanted.

Before the delivery job Liam was making really good money in the construction trade doing tile work but he had enough horse sense to foresee the economic bubble about to burst. He started looking for something else and took his current job making considerably less money. His friends thought he was crazy. Six months later his friends were asking him if he knew they could find a job.

Up into Connemara we drove as Liam made stops at restaurants, delis, and shops along the way. He has his route down and is very efficient about it. Leenane was as far north as Liam was going and my “Lost Planet” guidebook said there was a hostel there. I got out and he handed me a big package of fresh garlic, honey, thyme goat cheese. I greatly thanked him as he quickly hopped back in his van and drove off.

There’s not much in Lenaane so I went to the store next to a pub and asked where the hostel was. The shop girl told me it was four miles back and a mile up a side road. It was 6 pm, raining, and kind of cold. I just figured I’d hang out at the shop and ask people for a ride. After standing there for a short while and asking a couple of folks the pub manager approached me and said, “Hostel? Ok, Come on”. I threw my pack in the back seat of his car and he drove me right to where I wanted to go.

The Sleepzone hostel is in the middle of nowhere Connemara. Aside of the fact that the area is absolutely beautiful it seemed like an odd location. The building is relatively newish, modern, and somewhat institutional. Kind of like a retreat center or something. All of the staff are French. Their eyes lit up when I walked in with Goat Cheese. The first thing they asked was if it was fresh. “Yep, made this morning”.

I put the cheese on a plate and broke out some bread I bought at the store next to the pub. The French were quite pleased with the cheese so a couple of them invited me to join them for dinner which was great because all I had was bread and goat cheese.

The hostel did not sell food but they did sell beer and wine. I got a Guinness and a lovely French woman got a bottle of wine. She was backpacking and hiking around Ireland by herself. That day she had packed a chicken from some village on the other side of some mountain along with some vegetables and lettuce for dinner.

Needless to say the dinner came out wonderfully. The French have a way with food. So there I was sitting and chatting with a somewhat young yet very attractive single backpacking hiking French lady after a day of easy travel and fresh goat cheese at a hostel in the middle of beautiful Connemara, Ireland. Just enjoying the conversation. “Oh, I see, you’re a firefighter. But your training to be a nurse, ohh, hmm, ahhh?” Then she tells me she’s Gay.

You never know where standing at a crossroads with a sign will lead you.

Ireland - Photos From My Walks

Ireland - Relaxing Carefree Travel

Ireland has got to be one of the easiest and most carefree places I’ve ever traveled. The people are nice, getting around is simple to figure out, and the countryside is lovely. It’s a very relaxing and low stress place to roam. The only thing I’ve been told to be wary of are late night drunks in Dublin. Well, that’s a common sense no brainer.

From Killarney I took a Bus to Dingle where I stayed three nights. While there I climbed yet another peak, Brandon Mountain, in mist, fog and rain, combined with a long bike ride around the sea cliffs of Slea head. The following day I hiked the hills and valleys around Connor pass under mostly sunny skies. The landscapes full of green intermingled with gray, red, and black stone while being bathed in the constantly changing light of variable clouds makes the Irish countryside very easy on the eyes.

I stayed at the “Hideout Hostel” in Dingle right across from the small village Movie Theater. My roommate was a mid 50’s Moroccan man who teaches economics in Paris. It's not often that I meet a Moroccan backpacker. His name is Elmostafa and we tossed back a couple of pints while talking about travel, politics, and the Moroccan desert. It’s not often that I get to engage in good conversation with backpackers from a Muslim culture. Elmostafa and I talked about cultural differences and how when you get right down to it everyone wants the same thing. To have a home, to feel safe with family and friends and to a have good job. To simply be happy. At the base level this is what anyone and everyone wants. No question about it. Unfortunately there are a small few who like to stir up a hornets’ nest into a furry of emotion and misunderstandings that lead to negative outcomes. Live and let live, do no harm. That’s my mind set. Go ahead and worship purple monkeys if you want to. I really don’t care as long as it's not causing harm to anyone else. Elmostafa proved to be a great roommate. He left with an invitation to visit him in Paris and to trek in the Morroccon desert.

After three nights at the hostel in Dingle I debated what to do next. I already had an idea of where I wanted to go but wasn’t too interested in paying 11 Euros for a short bus ride to Tralee. A young German woman by the name of Larissa was thinking the way I was so we decided to hitch hike to Tralee. We had both been hearing good reports of nothing but normal people happy to giving backpackers lifts. I very rarely if ever hitch hike anywhere because I usually don’t think it’s a good idea but in the rural areas of Ireland, where people are accustomed to tourism, it’s about as safe as it gets.

There are two ways out of Dingle to get to Tralee. We tried the busiest way first and gave up after 45 minutes. We then walked about 15 minutes to the other more scenic less traveled route and got a ride in 15 minutes. The couple that picked us up could have been our parents. They were retired farmers whose first language is Gaelic. Their English is spoken with a thick accent that was hard for Larissa to understand but understandable to me as long as I listened closely. Ireland has changed enormously over the last 30 years. From when everyone was emigrating to the UK or America. To the Big Boom. To now, the big Bust.

The old Ireland of traveling gypsies, struggling farmers, and plain poverty was left behind as the country was catapulted into the 21’st century via the same economic boom seen throughout the rest of Europe and the USA during the 1990's. The problem is that most of the boom was a product of greed, imagination, and hype drawn up on Power Point presentations, TV financial shows and printed media. On the way up Ireland saw more blue sky than it probably ever will again. With loose foreign trade regulations and banks loaning money to anyone with a pulse, the limit was beyond the sky. Abandoned cottages sold for hundreds of thousands of Euros and construction demands reached an all time high. Some got rich, some lost it all. Well, the sky did turn gray and the clouds were the limit. In the end Ireland is a very different country. In many ways for the better but in other ways? We'll see. Thanks to the European Union and robust tourism coupled with legitimate businesses Ireland will be fine but in the meantime many are staring down a bottomless pint of thousand if not millions of dollars of debt. Real estate values have fallen, on average, 50% from where they were at the height of the boom. Everyone and no one has the solution.

The downside to Ireland’s boom and bust is that it’s one of the most expensive places to travel in Europe. Everything got so grossly inflated. Fortunately, prices are on their way down as things naturally and slowly correct. For the backpacker traveler restaurants are very expensive and the price of take away food is barely acceptable so cook your own pasta meals at the hostel is the best option. Hostel dorm beds run between 14 to 18 Euros. Buses and trains range from very reasonable to expensive depending on route. Even with this approach, by the end of the day, I’m spending more money in Ireland than anywhere else I’ve been on this trip.

The nice couple that gave me and Larissa a ride to Tralee very conveniently dropped us off at the bus station where we got a bus to Tarbert. From there we took a ferry across a bay and hitched a ride with a local to Kilrush where we found a hostel for the night. Later that evening a couple with a car checked into the hostel and Larissa commented before meeting them, “Ahh, our new friends”.

Our new friends turned out to be a really nice German couple by the name of Rafael and Inga. We met them in a pub later that evening and hit it off with good conversation. Today they gave us a ride to Doolin as we passed through old fishing villages, visited a lighthouse, and miles of seal cliffs including the famous Cliffs of Moher. We found a hostel and I opted for a 9 Euro campsite in the side yard with full access to the facilities.

Tonight, like most nights, I’ll probably find myself in a local pub with a pint of Guinness and musicians playing traditional music. It only seems natural and fitting when your in Ireland. Yes, It is a very relaxing and carefree place to travel….

Mt Carountohil - A Hike Up Ireland's Highest Peak

“I like what you did yesterday but today you need to get out and do something” said Martin the hostel manager with his thick Polish accent. The day before I did nothing but as I contemplated what to do Thursday morning Martin gave me his opinion like a coach. “Yes, of course, today I will bike and hike Mt, Carountohil, the highest mountain in Ireland”, said I. “Ok, let me get you a bike, time is not on your side, you need to get going!”, said Martin.

Actually, the timing was just right. It quit raining for the moment and when I’m motivated I can move pretty quick. My runs in France and the 8 days of walking along the English coast had whipped me back into shape. I quickly threw a day pack together and hopped on a bike for a ride that would take me an hour to get to the trailhead.

I didn’t have a map but I have a funny knack for visually remembering directions and prices of things. Go figure? I took a photo of a simple map at the hostel for backup and headed on my way. With no problem I found the trailhead and starting walking up an open valley full of green and cloud enshrouded mountains.

About 30 minutes into the hike I caught up with a Kiwi father and son bound for the peak as well. Kiwis are what you call people from New Zealand. Anyway, we got to talking and hiked together. Such is the way these things often work out.

The actual climb was pretty straight forward. Up the valley, up a steep gully with rocks and scree to a saddle/pass, then take a right following cairns (rock piles marking the route) and don’t get lost in the thick fog, mist, and rain. Staying on route in such conditions is best managed by going cairn to cairn because fog and cloud mist can be very disorienting. The hope in climibing during such conditions is at some point the clouds will briefly clear to allow for some kind of view.

The crux was a steep rocky scree gully known as the “Devils Staircase” with a stream running through it but relatively speaking the rock was quite stable and it really wasn’t too difficult to navigate. I kind of thought the wet red colored rock interspersed with green vegetation added to the atmosphere and beauty of it all.

In Ireland the weather changes every 15 minutes and the forecasts, from what I can tell, are pretty much useless. Since mountains tend to create their own weather regardless the general rule, in Ireland, is to just go and do whatever you want to do and be prepared for sun, wind, and rain.

Even in thick cloud mist it’s hard to miss the summit of Carountohil with its large iron cross and hand piled stone wall structure for wind protection. We caught up to a couple of other groups on top with everyone waiting it out a bit in hopes of the clouds opening up a little. A minute here and a minute there would revealed a view off to one side or the other but after awhile the cold wet wind started to get pretty uncomfortable so we headed down.

As we descended the cloud ceiling began to rise and we could see a nice grassy ridge opposite of the Devils Staircase. The ridge revealed a nice, yet little longer, high loop option that offered a very scenic and much more pleasant descent route. Absolutely beautiful. As the clouds stuck to the summit of Carountohil the surrounding area began to clear with spectacular views.

Back down in the valley it was a pleasant stroll to the trailhead parking lot where I took a cup at a local tea shop before heading back to Killarney on my bike. Despite vairiable weather it was a great introduction to the mountains of Ireland. I'm sure I'll find my way to the top of a few more before I leave the country.

It's Do Nothing Day In Killarney

Over the past couple of days I’ve slipped into an indecisive funk coupled with indifference and disinterest. Ah yes, a bit of travel fatigue I’d say. The inner dialogue goes like something like this. “I’d like to do this but I want to do that but really I’m tired and want to rest. I need some sleep. Maybe I should just go home? No, I don’t want to go home. I want to keep going, and going, and going. Soo much to see and do. Ok, I’m going to do that. Wait, I changed my mind. No, I DO want to do that but what about? Ah, take a break, get a pint, and eat some lunch. Ok, Now I really ought to go there and do that because I only have so much time and I don’t want to waste any time doing nothing? Wow, this place is so cool and beautiful. I think I’ll go over there! But aren’t I kind of tired. I need some sleep. But no, go, go, go. Whoa, I am tired!”

I woke up little indecisive Monday morning but had the good sense to stay a day in Cork to visit an impressive cathedral, an old Prison and the town of Cobh where the Titanic made its last stop before heading across the Atlantic. On Tuesday I took a bus to Glengarriff with the intention of starting another long walk but changed my mind, checked into a hostel, and spent the day walking local trails. On Wednesday I awoke with the intentions of starting the long walk again but pouring rain made me take pause. Three super nice Germans from the hostel with a car offered me a ride to Killarney so I took it on a whim.

Killarney is a busy town that revolves around tourism and didn’t really attract me at first so I grabbed lunch and debated what to do next. I couldn’t really make a decision so I started to walk towards the bus station. I didn’t really think I wanted to stay in Killarney. On the way to the bus station I decided to take a quick look at a hostel that was supposed to be pretty cool.

I took a left at an intersection past a four star hotel and spotted the hostel sandwiched between the hotel and a pub advertising, “Drinking Consultants”. What really got my attention about the 250 year old building is the colorfully decorated green painted front with red trim, loads of flowers, and bicycle hanging from roof top left corner advertising rentals.

When I walked in I was enthusiastically greeted my Martin the hostel manager. Martin is from Poland and sports a Mohawk. He speaks fluid English with a thick Polish accent tainted with Irish wit. The narrow common area with stone walls, open fireplace, and thick tree slab tables creates an inviting atmosphere. The place is seething with character but more than anything it just feels good.

Martin showed me a room and it was equally inviting as the rest of the place so without much thought I checked into the 4 bed dorm. As I chatted with Martin I told him I was feeling kind of tired and have been on the road for a good while. Without even blinking he said, “You need to stay here two days and do nothing. I mean, do nothing. Just sleep, relax.”

When I awoke this morning I once again debated starting another long walk. Yes, I like to go on long walks, but with little thought I decided Martins advice was good advice so I checked in for another night and am doing nothing today. I’ll just hang out, catch up on the blog and fire off a few emails. Last night I slept really well. I have two roommates. One is a 30 something man from Ottawa, Canada and the other is a 30 something woman from Rome. We’re all solo travelers and seem to be on the same clock. Finding yourself in a place where you sleep well is almost reason enough to stay another night when you’re a long term traveler.

It's a do nothing day in Killarney

Ireland - A Hostel Story

The Ferry was two hours late and it was a 30 minute bus ride from the ferry port to the city center of Cork. As I walked and rounded a corner I was nearly knocked over by the booming Reggae music pouring out of a bar. The bar just happened to be the ground floor of the hostel I was booked into. I entered and pushed my way through the crowds and signaled a very friendly woman working bar. She cheerfully checked me in and encouraged me not to worry about the loud music with heavy bass. It was supposed to stop at 11:30. Actually, the music was pretty good, but hey, this is Ireland, not a Caribbean cruise ship. I was tired.

I dumped my pack in the 4 bed dorm with a large window facing a busy street. Yes, it was loud but I surrendered to the circumstance. The room was clean and quite nice. From what I could tell there were only two other people staying in it. Aside of the noise it was fine.

With Reggae music and the median age of the crowd being something like 24 I felt kind of out of place and felt like I looked it to. No problem. The middle aged and over crowd was all gathered at the pub next door listening to traditional Irish Music. So, there I went and found a chair at the bar for a pint of Guinness and sat for about an hour.

At exactly 11:38 the reggae singer blared good night over the PA system and things quieted down considerably. After all, it was Sunday night. Around 11:45 my dorm mates showed up. They were two young and very considerate German women who had been a bit put off by the Reggae show as well. They had been traveling all over Ireland for awhile and quickly filled me in on where to go. By 12:30 or so I finally fell into bed but it was 1 am before the guys next door quieted down with their Pizza party. I slept well until the German girls got up at 6:30 am but they were quiet about their business. I dozed off again but was rudely awaken by the fire alarm at 7:30. Around 8:30 I got up and took advantage of free cornflakes and toast.

Hostels are hit and miss but with the right attitude they’re usually pretty good. Even with the noise issues of where I’m staying it’s still a good place. It’s very clean, the staff is friendly, and the location is great. Not to mention I’m paying about a 1/3 of what it would cost to have my own room at a guest house or B&B. I like to mix it up. A few hostels, a few nights camping, and a proper B&B here and there. After all, Ireland is not cheap but with the right approach costs can be kept within reason.

Ireland - A Story From The Ferry

Everyone working on the boat is obviously Russian or from a former USSR state. The announcer over the intercom speaks good English but with a classic Moscow Russian accent. The attractive woman who just poured me a pint of Murphy’s stout would do better not to wear so much make up. Russian and Eastern European women have a true sense of fashion and style but sometimes it borders on tacky.

I was about to speak a couple of words of Russian to the bartender but asked where she was from before doing so. Her response? Latvia. Whew, good thing I didn’t say anything in Russian. Although Latvians know Russian they don’t like it. Speaking Russian to them can sometimes be downright offensive. Since the breakup of the USSR Latvians are more than proud to speak their own language as they uphold and revive their own cultural traditions while putting former Russian ties behind them. English is perfectly acceptable to a Latvian and if you go out of your way to learn a little of their own language it’s more than appreciated.

Well it’s been awhile since I passed through Latvia and Russia and I’ve covered a lot of ground since then. Right now I’m enjoying my pint of Murphy’s on a Ferry bound to Cork, Ireland. We left Swansea, Wales around 9:30 in the morning. The ship’s bar is nice and peaceful as there are only 155 people aboard a ship that normally carries 600 to 700 at a time. Sometimes you just get lucky and fall into what I refer to as a vacuum in between the crowds. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. It just happens. Even in the busiest of times and August is the busiest of times. The boat is cruising nicely to the West as it gently rocks back and forth for the full day ride.

I’ve been browsing the Lonely Planet Guide to Ireland and talked with tourist information aboard the ferry. The west coast is obviously where it’s at and Ireland offers a surprising amount of hiking possibilities. I ponder what I’ll do as I sip my Murphy’s stout and stare across the gently rolling ocean under clear sunny skies.

Photo: Lighthouse at the entrance to Cork Harbour, Ireland as seen from the ferry.

It Was A Nice Walk - Booking Ahead

I left Exmouth under sunny skies in a cloud of indecision but moving forward nonetheless. In order to continue along the South West Coast Path I needed to get across a large bay formed by a river estuary. There’s a ferry and water taxi services so I just hopped the ferry. Once on the other side I continued walking. I needed a few more miles under my feet to feel out the next move.

The first seaside village I came to was Dwalish Warren. I stopped at a local bakery for two meat pastys and a flapjack. Meat pastys are basically a breaded turnover type pastry with meat, potatoes, and veggies inside. They can be a great bargain when it comes to eating cheap in England. Usually you can get a decent one for just a little over a pound. For 2 or 3 pound you can get a large one that can fill you up. It equates to a decent meal for around two to four US Dollars. A flapjack makes a nice desert. It's a traditional gooey oatmeal bar full of butter and sugar. With a full belly I pressed on.

After Dwalish Warren, I continued through Dwalish proper, and finished the day walking atop a long seawall into the surprisingly quiet beachside community of Tiegnmouth where I found myself in a state of decisiveness. I surmised that Tiegnmouth would be the perfect place to come back to if I chose to continue further along the South West Coast path sometime in the future. For now, I had already spent eight nice days covering over 100 miles of splendid coastal hiking so it made sense to leave it at that. After all, there are so many things I want to do and it was a very nice walk.

I executed my most current plan by visiting the Tiegenmouth village tourist information office. The very friendly attendant quickly set me up with a cheap B&B that just happened to be right next to the railway station. B&B's are still a great value in the UK. I never spend more than 30 pounds and you can usually find a nice one for around 25.

With accommodation for the night taken care of I headed to a pub for internet and got to booking. Trailine.com for discounted train ticket to Swansea, Wales, booked. Irish Ferries website for a ticket to Cork, Ireland out of on Swansea at 9 am on Sunday morning, booked. Hostels.com for accommodation in Cork. Hmm, that hostel looks ok. 4 bed dorm, booked.

Ireland it is! Hard to believe with all of the traveling I’ve done in the UK I’ve never been to Ireland. I don’t know why? There are many reasons to like Ireland. To name a few, well, there’s the Guinness, traditional Irish Music, and people who have the reputation for being exceedingly friendly along with a countryside that’s renowned for its beauty. The only downside is that everyone tells me how expensive it is. Hostel dorms seem reasonable but eating out is apparently very costly. All the more reason to stay at hostels. There’s almost always a community kitchen. I'll figure it all out when I get there.

While in Ireland I intend to have a good look around and might even do another week long walk. I’ll have at least two weeks to check out the country then I’ll either head home or extend my time a little to take advantage of a bonus side trip. We'll see.....