Bratislav-AHAHA!

Fall break: ten days that seemed to be an arm’s length away, yet crept up slowly until it was October 23 and time to be on our way. My good friend Kayla and I traveled together, and weeks of planning, purchasing tickets, replanning, and replanning some more had finally come together to make for One Great Adventure. First stop? Bratislava, Slovakia.

Exchanging no words with passport control, we passed through the sliding doors to the arrivals area of the Bratislava Airport and headed out to catch our bus. At the end of the route, we jumped out, anchors of duffel bags slung over our shoulders and Kayla found the map guiding us to our hostel. There were no written directions, so we followed our intuition (and, you know, the road) before coming to a crossroads and not knowing what to do. We stopped into both a post office and bank, hello coming hesitantly out of our mouths, before handing over the wilting sheet of paper and asking if they knew where to go. The woman at the post office tried to offer help, but we found ourselves “lost” near the historical center and again sought assistance. A bank teller was able to steer us correctly, and we arrived at the Patio Hostel about an hour and a half after we received our freshly stamped passports back.

A Nice Way of Life

When midterms come a-knockin’, they stick around on your couch for two weeks and they just can’t seem to leave you alone. When they do finally pack their bags and say ta-ta for now, decompression and relaxation are screaming your name. And when the opportunity to do so on the southern coast of France arises, you find yourself in perfect balance.

The funny thing is, when my roommate and I decided on a trip to Nice, France, we selected the dates because it was our last fully free weekend and because airfare and lodging were the least expensive then. It happened to coincide with midterms; I was just about finished with everything when we went, and Scarlett had only a few things to complete as well. Days spent in the academic centre or at the apartment behind my laptop screen and with hundreds of tabs opened up for research and writing, and a few nights up studying left me weary but accomplished: the Mediterranean Sea beckoned to me from cloudy Dublin, and two days in the sunshine-infused warmth couldn’t have felt more deserved. Timing is everything, and it was the ideal trip to plan for the middle of October.

Those Scotland Days

Currently missing a piece of my heart, because it’s been left behind in Edinburgh.

My first weekend outside of Ireland was spent in a town untouched and unharmed by industrialism. A city where anything seems possible: where gelato can be eaten on a stretch of grass below a castle; where ghosts roam the confines of a graveyard; where Harry Potter can be born. Where magic lives.

It's (Almost) Christmas in Killarney

For the final leg of my independent travel weekend, I visited Killarney, which is about two hours outside of Dingle. Having been on my feet consistently for two days straight, for almost twelve hours each day, I'll admit that I was very much looking forward to a bus ride where I could lean back, pull out my headphones, and be transported through the fantastic hills and valleys that make up this region of Ireland. We had a layover in Tralee, and then another thirty minute bus ride before I was let off at the Killarney Outlet Centre and Bus Station. I used the small station's wifi to get directions to my bed and breakfast, and lugged my duffel down the drizzly road.

My lodging, the Slieve Bloom Manor was about fifteen minutes outside of the center of town, but I was staying on a busy stretch of gas stations, convenience stores, and bed and breakfasts. I was greeted warmly by the owner and, upon asking for suggestions on how best to get to the Muckross Estate in the Killarney National Park, was given pamphlets for different shuttle buses and times. Thanking her, I dropped my things and headed back towards town, wandering through the busier center in wait for the three P.M. shuttle.

Single in Dingle

“I’ve got to be where my spirit can run free.”

And that’s exactly what a solo journey to Dingle and Killarney gave to me.

I recently began blogging for the Champlain Abroad Dublin website, and in my first post discuss the tying up of ends that brought me to southwestern Ireland.

Basically, an independent travel weekend is something that I have craved for over a year, in planning my time abroad. Everything that I read on the subject only blasted more stars into my eyes. There’s something inherently romantic about the idea of going off on uncharted territory (for you) alone. And truth be told, the stories and mishaps I hoped for lie in wait for me to find, and I was more than willing to run to them.

Don't Forget Yer Sea Legs (2)

As you may have read in my last post, the first night of travel in western Ireland was one for the (soggy) books. That night, I curled under the covers of my bunk bed and relished in being completely dry and warm.

The next morning greeted us with an unperturbed sun rising over Doolin. I walked up the road, towards the pub we had eaten dinner at the night before, and soaked in the surrounding countryside. I had to pinch myself, because there isn’t such a thing as a world as picturesque as that one… right?

Don't Forget Yer Sea Legs (1)

Three words: I’m finally dry.

This past weekend, a class trip to the west of Ireland, met us with breaking-news rain and floods, sick-inducing boat rides, and lots of rugged Irish countryside.

On Friday morning, forty six students and staff loaded a coach bus set for a journey to the west of the country. (Can you believe it?! We could cross the entire country in three hours!) It was a sunny morning in Dublin, the day breaking over the River Liffey, as we were told of the weather to be. Rain in the west, and apparently lots of it. Within the hour, light drops drizzled over the front windows and gradually turned into what would be a monsoon.