So, with reasonable ease I arrived in Tramore, literally thirty yards away from where Karen, my wonderful couch host, is staying.

Karen is one of those veteran couch surfers. She's hosted over two hundred people! But, despite this, she's still taking the time and effort to get to know me. I borrowed one of her bikes and set off on a trip around the lovely seaside town: passing through fields and over cliffs and through forests, and then riding alongside the beach and then making my way up (unfortunately VERY up) the slope through the charming town.

I got into a long discussion with a guy who sells pancakes on the sea shore (these Irish are so damn friendly), I discovered a haunted well, I nearly ran over an old man (who just laughed and gave me a big, toothy grin) and I was accosted by American tourists.

There is one terrible thing, though. In my room. On the dresser. Before the mirror. There is a doll. And it watches me. How the hell am I going to sleep?

Am I a wuss? I am, aren't I?

written by  Brigid Jelsma on April 7, 2011 from Tramore, Ireland
from the travel blog: Walk a little further to another plan
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Last night we had a potluck at Karen's place and that was great fun: Irish people sitting at a table, plenty of alcohol, pancakes and good music (courtesy of my Ipod, so I might be a bit biased on that point). Most of them live in Tramore, so, as you can imagine, there was quite a bit of local gossip - highly entertaining for me - and discussion on the best places to visit in Ireland.

Too many people have told me that I just HAVE to go to Galway, so I'm cutting my stay in Cork by one day. From here I'll head to Dingle for two nights and then up to Gort (just south of Galway) for two nights before my flight to Nantes on the 14th. To be honest I'm definitely regretting pre-booking that ticket, as I could definitely spend another few weeks (or more) in Ireland, and I've become friends with so many wonderful people.

But, then again, maybe it's a good thing, because I'd probably just end up living here for the rest of my life. And that's not a viable option (I value my life and I know certain persons who will kill me if I don't make it home at the end of this year).

Ooooh, and an update: I can actually cook! This revelation was brought about by Aileen and then Karen serving as my guinea pigs. So, yes, one recipe that I can actually make and that actually tastes delicious (and I did say so myself). Bean casserole. More specifically, Andy's bean casserole. It's saved me from being a complete failure of a chef.

Thank you, Andy.

Right, back to the topic. Ireland. It is unfairly beautiful and diverse. It pretty much has everything that I love. Fields of green, wide open spaces, forests, cliffs, beaches, cute towns, clean, thriving cities, people who smile and chat to you without hesitation, and so much more. The Irish are wonderful too. Aboot - About. Tink - Think. Fair play - nice move. Feck - expletive I won't write owing to the fact that my mother reads this. Feen - guy/lad. Dander - stroll.

This phrase made me laugh for AGES: I was so drunk, I put my jeans to bed and hung myself over the chair.

And then the most obvious: craic (pronounced 'crack') - fun (coarse translation).

One last thing. Supermac's are cheap, have toilets and free wifi. Just in case anyone else is wandering around debating whether food or internet access is more worth your measly 3 euros.

:)

written by  Brigid Jelsma on April 9, 2011 from Cork, Ireland
from the travel blog: Walk a little further to another plan
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Jim is good craic. Definitely. Good company, good music and good food.

As I realised I was running out of days in Ireland, I had a plan to head straight to Dingle for two nights and then up to Gort for another two. But Jim, spontaneously deciding to skip work, convinced me to join him to Skibbereen for a night at the House he was planning to buy and then we'd go on to Dingle from there.

So we set off, me, Jim and Leo (a permaculturist who was joining to take a look at the plot of land Jim was planning to buy). And the cottage is absolutely adorable. Only one neighbour for Miles around, surrounded by fields and foresty land, and with a size-able area ready to be cultivated. It still needs a lot of work, having no running water or electricity, but sitting around the wood stove sipping tea made up for that.

written by  Brigid Jelsma on April 10, 2011 from Skibbereen, Ireland
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The drive. Wow. Along the coast, Bantry Bay, over the mountains, Kilarney Lakes, and then arriving in Dingle - I have never seen anything as stunning!

And then Dingle. The most amazing place in the world (or as much of the world as I've seen). Cute shops, awesome pubs, beautiful coastline, and wonderful people; what more could you need?

There was also a highly amusing incident involving a drunken Irish man who entertained the whole pub (Dick Mack's - best pub in the world) with his antics. He'd hug people as they came through the door and even answered a call from his mom while everyone was listening. We ended up pub-hopping with him for a bit - laughing like lunatics as we went down the street.

Then I met Frank, my new host and after a hearty dinner set off to Geraldine's place for a few drinks before finally heading BACK to Dick Mack's for a few more.

Oh, dear. These Irish are bad influences.

written by  Brigid Jelsma on April 11, 2011 from Dingle, Ireland
from the travel blog: Walk a little further to another plan
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John, another couch surfer, had a car and we went around to see the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren - absolutely amazing!!! But we got charged 6 euros each just to see them (even though I tried jumping out the car before we got to The Entrance, there was a guy there who told on me).

I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Ireland and I'm honestly sad to be leaving!

written by  Brigid Jelsma on April 14, 2011 from Gort, Ireland
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But I'm managing - if by 'managing' I mean reserving my train ticket by pointing at Nantes on the map, then Tarbes on the map, waving my Eurail ticket around and saying, 'Oui', to everything even slightly pitched as a question.

I just hope there haven't been any marriage proposals... then I'd be in trouble.

I arrived in Nantes with very little trouble, even managed to smuggle out some Irish sand for someone special back home, and was met by Antoine, my couchsurfing host for the night.

Antoine and Virginie. Wonderful people. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay with them in the countryside on the outskirts of Nantes. I went for a walk through the forest, along the river, saw a chateau - a proper one - for the first time, and was chased around by a guy on a lawnmower (no, seriously, I was).

Then, Antoine, Virginie, the moon and I, sat outside in the French evening air. :)

- Essentials (clothes, shoes, passports, tickets, cash, etc)
- Hand wipes (no, honestly, these are ridiculously handy for everything from sticky hands to no access to a shower/bath)
- Water
- Pen and paper
- Nail clippers
- Lots of socks
- Plastic bags
- Music
- Deodorant

The toughest things about travelling:

- You meet so many amazing people, but most of them you will never see again. It's exhausting putting in the effort to get to know each and every single person. But the worst is meeting someone and knowing that if you had more time you'd become really great friends.
- One of the hardest questions to answer was asked by a little boy whose family I stayed with for a while. "Do you love us?"
- Getting sick in a foreign place.

Best bits about travelling:

- Sitting on a bus or train, setting off for somewhere completely new and having no idea what to expect.
- I get to see the most amazing places. Honestly, each and every time I move I'm sad to leave, but as soon as I'm in the new spot, I love it. Everywhere seems to be special in its own way.
- I get to meet the most amazing people and keep some of them in my life (hopefully forever).
- I get exposed to so many new ideas and opinions, while my own get challenged, and it's absolutely fascinating.
- I get to choose where I want to go, what I want to do, and when I want to do it.
- Everything is exciting, even the smallest of things.
- Calling home (friends, family, kitten).

For the past three weeks, I have been absolutely awful at updating. I don't really know why. Maybe it's because I've had some stability during that time? Anyway. I have been staying in the most amazing place imaginable (and, yes, I know I said that about numerous places in Ireland and other countries, but each time I say it, I really do mean it!).

Saint Justin. A tiny village of six houses, situated on a hill in the middle of the rolling French countryside. Curling along the horizon, serving as the breakfast, lunch and dinner view, is the Pyrenees mountain range. The nearest town is Marciac, a town renowned for it's jazz.

Wisteria now symbolises France in my mind as it grows along the rafters of the patio.

How on earth did I end up in this paradise? Well, a site called WorkAway is the answer. In exchange for bed and board, I work 25 hours a week. Let me put it this way: I work from 8 until one, get a delicious breakfast, a mouthwatering lunch and a delectable supper, I get wine, I get a comfortable bedroom with its own bathroom and shower, I get afternoons and weekends off, I get to stay in the most beautiful part of the world and experience its culture. We even got the chance to go up the mountains!

No one needs to tell me how fortunate I am, honestly.

Oh, don't get me wrong, the work has sometimes been tough. Clearing ivy (damn that ivy) from walls, getting showered by bugs as you snip branches from below and try to balance on ladders that sag in the middle; painstakingly raking your fingers through hard soil to find straggling roots of couch grass (a demonic weed); sanding stairs until the dust nearly suffocates everyone around you; and so much more.

But, with music and good company, even the work hasn't been bad.

I've thoroughly enjoyed it.

But, moving onwards, with a minor blip thanks to an unforeseen cold, and I am leaving tomorrow, heading for San Sebastian.

How on earth is Spain going to compete with this haven?

written by  Brigid Jelsma on May 8, 2011 from Marciac, France
from the travel blog: Walk a little further to another plan
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I met the Dutch guy I'm going to be travelling with for a bit, and the good news is that we haven't died yet, despite all attempts. We climbed up the Mountain, through brambles and past a sleeping pilgrim, snuck into an abandoned picnic area that looks like it hasn't been used in years, got completely lost, made sandwiches, bought a bottle of wine and sat on the walkway by the coast for a bit.

My feet are sore! I bought flipflops and they are definitely not made for bashing through the Wilderness.

Oh, and the Basque region is definitely not part of Spain. Not according to everyone here.
:)

Tomorrow, if we don't miss the bus, we're heading for Santander.

written by  Brigid Jelsma on May 10, 2011 from Donostia-San Sebastian, Spain
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Santander. Not really all that impressive. The coast is great, loads of beaches, a mediocre bird park, some ships, a castle/palace thing, some trees, a few parks, Pizza Hut, more beaches, statues of surfers and a creepy kid statue on a hill.

But then there's the city. The buildings... pretty depressing. Huge apartment blocks, grey, clothes hanging out windows, water stains, peeling paint... well, you get the picture.

So, if you like beaches, sure. But beyond that. At least this is one place I haven't fallen in love with. :)

written by  Brigid Jelsma on May 11, 2011 from Santander, Spain
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Gijon, the town I was staying in, isn't really a must-see, but I definitely enjoyed it.

At the moment I am sitting on a bus heading to A Coruna. Five hours... at least I have my music.

And cookies. And homemade strawberry jam (a gift from my fabulous host).

Oh, and the scenery. There is that.

I really prefer this side of the North of Spain. It's a lot more rural, more natural and sparcely populated. And people just seem that little bit more friendly.

We went to a CS (couchsurfing) meeting, a language exchange night, and it was really good fun. I met wonderful people. Why are there so many wonderful people? I woke up with several business cards, numbers, contact details for people in various places dotted around Europe that I can stay with on this trip, and a list of places I just HAVE to go to (everywhere...).

The worst bit is that I lost a few napkins that had more contact details, so some of the people I met I will never be able to speak to again. It's quite upsetting, actually.

There are so many great people in this world. And I really want to get to know them all.

written by  Brigid Jelsma on May 14, 2011 from Gijon, Spain
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