'Why yes, the sheep here in Ireland come with pink and green patches. Pink for the girls and green for the boys."

I am almost tempted not to blog right now.

Today was truly awe inspiring and I find it difficult to convey certain things.

This is about where I lost stamina last time I was in Europe.

Day 2 or 3.

You begin to get really immersed in being where you are, experiencing it fully and the last thing you want to do is try to write some slightly amusing entry about it.

regardless, I will share a few details.

I woke up at 7am and headed out for my walking tour of Wicklow and Glendalough.

Anyone who wants to tour these areas should go through the tour provider called Walkabout Wicklow. They are the only group who will actually take you on the 10km walk up into and over the mountains. It was amazing.

Our tour guide Joe was born and bred in Sydney Australia. He is however the son of Irish parents and married an Irish girl. There were 8 other people on the tour and I happened to be the only American.

The day was spectacular, fun and breathtaking.

I think I will let the pictures mostly talk for themselves.

I walked 10km, climbed 2,000ft, ate a takeaway sandwich on an ancient ruin, etc, etc.

The guide told me he was impressed at how fit I was. He said most young American women ;ook fit and then can barely make it up a hill whereas I looked fit and was the strongest hiker on the walk. Woohoo for appearing somewhat athletic!

When I returned home from the tour I walk (some more) back to my hotel, took a shower, charged my camera battery, tried to make contact with my various friends or friends of friends in Dublin and headed out into the night.

I grabbed a yummy dinner at Nude on Suffolk.

t was potato and chickpea stew served with mash. YUM!

Anyway, after the food I found mt way back to Trinity and saw "Krapp's Last Tape" by Beckett. It was very well done. he actor and director really played up the long silences. It was very intimate and organic. I was totally enthralled.

After the show I walked in MJ O'Neill's, told the barkeep that my uncle, grandfather and great grandfather were all named MJ O'Neill, got a few cents knocked off my Guinness because of it and wandered up the stairs. I was being called by the siren song of Irish musicians.

It was a trio of fun, gregarious and wonderfully talented men.

I stayed for their whole set, met some cool guys from LA, bought myself a whiskey and chatted with the fellas until we were all kicked out. In our chat we talked about NYC (one of the guys lived there for 9 years), they told me I sang very nicely and they made me do an Irish accent for them (so embarrassing!). They said it was very convincing but I didn't sound like a Dubliner so they gave me some tricks to make my accent harder sounding. They gave me some good tips on where to hear the best live music and get the best pints. I gave them my card and was on my merry way.

Walking home I snapped a few more pictures, listed to a band called Apollo's Thief play on Grafton, chatted with them a bit (turns out they have a show tomorrow night). and made it home.

My plans are all up in the air for tomorrow.

I will definitely go over my must do list and start attacking it in full force. I'll probably be "alone" for most of the day (I put alone in quotations because I have found that I have not been alone for more than a half hour in this city. Everyone is so friendly!). I may see The Rivals tomorrow not with Greg (or without if he can't make it). My friend (er friend of a friend) Aiofe is DJ'ing, might pop in for that, try to catch some more live music. Who knows what my day may hold!

Until later...

(Tonight the picture is from Glendalough. Wow is the only word...)

"I don't think a dog likes wearing sunglasses, personally"

Well, Greg pulled through.

He showed me a grand night in Dublin!

He trekked out to my hotel and picked me up in the lobby.

From there, we decided to wander.

He took me to "the secret garden". It was so green and quiet. A cute little wheaten colored dog was playing with us. I thought Greg should have tucked him into his jacket,

Greg is an American living in Dublin for a little over a month. he is a cousin of a good friend and we had met once before in the states. He is a very intelligent, charming, handsome and enjoyable fellow. He's tall with brown hair, a bit of scruff and eyes that are both kind and a bit wicked.

After the secret garden he showed me around the house he has been living at. The kitchen is open and friendly, the bathroom is done up in "trinity blue" (known everywhere else as sky blue), there is a proper tub and there is a wonderful feel about the whole place.

We had ourselves a whiskey and a chat and went on to find dinner.

Out first attempt required a 45 minutes wait. The soup nazi from Seinfeld had his picture on the wall so obviously it was a popular choice.

We decided to walk a bit more and found a nice quiet Indian place.

They had a taper on the table and the Sag Aloo was yummy.

We moved on to a bar, sort of divey, sort of hipstery, sort of very Irish, I can't remember the name, I am sure Greg will remind me.

We had a pint and moved on to Grogan's for another pint.
We encountered a dog. Wearing sunglasses. That were made especially for him. All of my attempts at conversation were for naught seeing as nothing I said could have been remotely as interesting as those glasses and the dog wearing them. A bum nearly asked the dog for money, caught himself and had a nice giggle about it.

I love Dublin on a Tuesday night in August. Chilly, quiet, hauntingly beautiful. All of this was only made better by the lovely company.

Luckily for me, Greg will be a Brooklynite on his return to the states so we will have plenty of chances to recreate our silly Dublin escapades!

(above photo shows the sunglessed dog in question)

"The best thing we Irish ever did was to send a few of us over to America. It's done a damn lot of good for tourism!"

Day 1

(Aug 4, 2009)

I had a rather uneventful journey from The States to Ireland.

I sipped a Bourbon before my flight, got moved to the aisle of an exit row (ah joyous legroom!) and made friend with my row mate, Maximilian. He was born in Belgium, raised in Madrid and now resides in Dubai. He works in tourism, is a long time vegetarian and was endlessly helpful. He has been traveling himself for about two months. At the airport he helped me with my baggage and made sure I was on my way to my hotel safely.

My cab driver was a pleasure. he got me acquainted with the city and gave me my bearings on the way to the hotel. We chatted quite a lot and he gave me three compliments 1. 'You really did your homework before coming here Missy. I think you might know about Dublin more than I do!" 2. "I knew you were Irish the moment I saw you!" 3"You don't dress like an American. them with their mad colors. You'll be just fine here". Another good bit of advice was "If you feel lost wait till you hear an Irish accent and ask for help."

The Dylan Hotel, where I am staying, is quite posh.

There are only 28 rooms and upon arrival you are treated like a total VIP.

I sat while paperwork was brought to me. I was given an in depth tour of the hotel and my room in particular and the free (and not so free) amenities were pointed out to me.

I set myself up, washed my face and crawled into the disgustingly comfortable "7th heaven" bed.

My two hour nap turned into a three hour nap and I got a bit behind schedule.

No worries though. I took a quick shower, gussied myself up and headed on my way.

I was given a map at the front desk, the tourist office and Grafton St. were pointed out to me and I was on my way.

It takes me about 15-20 minutes of brisk walking to get to the city center.

It's a very pleasant walk in a very safe neighborhood.

I get to pass by St. Stephen's Green and then I hit Grafton St. (the Molly Malone Statue is at one end and it's also the street where much of the action of Once takes place, if I am remembering correctly). Very lovely, lots of tourists. Not where I would choose to spend a great deal of time but it's a good place marker. it's easy to navigate your way around Trinity College and such from that point.

I made my way to the tourist office where a very honest civil servant said I needn't bother buying to too expensive Dublin Pass.

I decided to make my way to Trinity College. I wanted to take the guided walking tour combined with the entrance to "The Book of Kells". It only cost 10 euro and I figured it might be worth it. I got there just after the last tour began so I ran to catch up. My tour guide was a tall, skinny Irish boy with a mop of wavy blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes. He was dressed in shades of Grey and Blue. A very cool, vintage scholarly look. Collared shirt with a few buttons undone, a soft blue cardi and boot cut grey pants. Very nice. nicer still was his general charm and wit. After the first section of the tour he pulled me aside to ask where I was from and what I did. We got to chatting and at the end of the tour chatted a bit more. He recently finished his History studies at Trinity and is moving on to "Bell Paree" as he called it in the fall to take a French Language course. We got on quite well so, I gave him my card, letting him know when I'd be in Ireland. He realized I was about to miss the Book of Kells so we both went on our merry way.

The Book of Kells was interesting but not really worth the price of admission in my opinion. I am glad I went on the tour though. I learned quite a bit about Trinity and hear some interesting and silly anecdotes. I also learned there is a Beckett show on at the theatre on campus. I might try to see it tomorrow evening!

I love that I am already making friends on this trip! People have been kind and I am not being naive in my trust of them.

It's nice, when traveling alone, to have someone to smile at or chat with or whatever.

Tonight, I am supposed to be meeting up with my friend Greg. I can't reach him on his mobile though so let's keep our fingers crossed shall we...?

Tomorrow I go to Glendalough and Wicklow known as the garden of Ireland. I am being taken on a tour by Joe, the Australian bloke who runs Walkabout Wicklow. I think it will be a grand time. I must remember to bring a sack lunch!

Tata for now!

(the photo above in a flower seller on Grafton St. They are everywhere and I saw so many people carrying big, beautiful bouquets of flowers.)

Saying Goodbye

I don't officially leave the country until Monday but I am leaving our fair city tomorrow night after a Brooklyn Cyclones game.

I have been saying my goodbye's in a very laid back way. It's not like I will be gone forever. It will only be a month. And, let's face it, there are some of you out there who live less than 20 blocks away from me whom I have not seen in about three months so really... no drama needed.

I had dinner tonight with someone I hold very dear to my heart.

He gave me great advice. He said "Don't let anyone hijack your trip".

I think this is really smart advice because while I am technically "travelling alone" a lot of my vacation will be spent with friends, family, extended family, etc. And while it will be glorious to see them and travel with them and get their insight on the many destinations that lie ahead... it will still be vital for me to experience things my way. To truly have my trip. It costs a lot to travel around Europe and I damned well better have the experience I want while I am there!

This fella advised that I go back to Paris alone for a few days. Or, to follow that urge to spend a few days alone in Champagne or surfing in Ireland. He thinks it will be very important for me to have that unplanned, alone time. He said to "welcome the curve balls" and to throw a few curve balls myself. I think I am going to take his advice.

So, goodbye New York.

I leave you as a 23 year old woman who has only begun to scratch the surface of solo travel.

Hopefully, I will return to you a more wordily, more open, more confident woman of 24.

(The photo being shared this evening is what I looked like in June of 2007. 21 years old. JKF airport. Never been to Europe. About to fly away with my best friend. Excited!)

The finely tuned art of procrastination

I leave in a week and I am packed.

Well, about 90% packed, that is.

The trouble with leaving for a month and being a clotheshorse is you end up packing a LOT of clothes (and shoes and scarves and...). In this case almost all of the clothes I have packed are the clothes I would normally wear on a daily basis in the city in the summer.

This leaves me with the difficulty of having "nothing to wear" this final week or, alternatively, wearing clothes that I have already packed.

Unsurprisingly I have opted to unpack the previously packed items and "try them out". I need to make sure all the outfits are cute, functional, and can be multi purposed for varying climates (the mountains of Ireland to the French Riviera and many things in between). So, while 3 days ago I was 90% packed I am now 45% packed.

The other issue that arises with packing is the mess that goes along with it.

I have a dear friend moving in for three of the weeks that I am away. I would like the place to be spic and span for her arrival. Fresh sheets, fresh flowers and zero dust bunnies.

In order to clean, I need to pack, in order to pack, I need it to be closer to the beginning of my trip. Ugh.

I also need to pick up a few more items, finish typing up and printing out my home made travel guide, brush up on my extremely limited French, etc.

Instead of doing any of this I have started a new schedule.

Up until a week ago I was working 12 hours, waking up by 7am every morning and feeling very productive. The new schedule, however, goes something like this...

-Wake up at noon (or later... like 2:30)

-Lounge around in my pj's

-Watch old law and order episodes

-Head out in the late afternoon for leisurely picnics or lingering dinners with friends

-Stay out late sipping Bourbon and meeting new friends

All of this is delightful in theory but quite destructive to my whole very organized, well thought out, early packing travel plan.

It looks like old habits die hard for this procrastinator. Hopefully this won't carry over to the actual trip...

(the picture in the post today was taken in Paris near the Musee de l'Orangerie)

My First Blog Entry (an original title, don't you think?)

Tonight, I attended a concert put together by my friend Lydia (aka Blue Kid).
The first thing she said to me was "Oh my God, you're leaving for Europe for like, ever, soon!"

Not quite true. I will be leaving for Europe in roughly one week and I will be gone for roughly one month. I guess that might seem like forever...

I have been to Europe once before. In 2007 I went to Prague, Nice and Paris with my best friend of a million years. My only regret from that trip is that I didn't document it with my words more thoroughly. I got distracted when we left Prague for France and, well, my notebook stayed mostly blank. (I did however document my trip photographically. The photo to the left was taken on my first day in Prague. Ah, so gorgeous!)

On this jaunt, I will be in Ireland, France, England and perhaps Denmark. A lot of the trip has been preplanned but I have left a decent amount of wiggle room, an opportunity to let life happen.
Some of the time will be spent alone in hotels, some with family, some with friends, some with distant cousins I have never met.

Anyway, I don't really "blog" or write in general. I keep notebooks. I write down funny quotes and I make odd lists and share some stories with myself. I used to have an online journal. It was very self indulgent. High school drama and all that rot.

I have always had many stories floating around in my head. Most of them true and most of them about me. But, I have always lacked the confidence to share them because I am not a "writer". No, I am an actress, a singer, a producer, a nanny, a friend, a people person, I run a theatre company. I am many things but, a writer? Hm, not so much.

I mentioned this lack of writing ability to Lydia tonight but she insisted I keep a travel blog. She said it would be fascinating because she "likes the way my mind works". Hearing this from Lydia, who I consider to be one of the most talented, quirky and fascinating minds I have experienced, was reason enough for me to take up the mantle of "blogger" or "writer" or whatever.

So, here it is, my online travelogue.
I will update it intermittently while I am on the road.


Hopefully you will bare with my improper grammar, many typos and my lack of html knowledge. Inserting links, jumps, captioning photos? How would I know how to do that? Ha!

Enjoy!

Sarah Ann