Wenn es "weg" oder "raus" heißt, fragen sich einige offensichtlich noch immer "wohin?", dabei ist die Antwort längst vorgegeben: Ans Meer. Immer ans Meer.
20110615
Where I've been
As detailed as I could remember.
For all the train rides I took I would've paid ~ £608 with a Railcard. So my aim to use the £283 worth of the ticket worked out.
Day 7 - Leuchars, Peterborough, Cambridge, Bangor
14/06/2011
It is 6 o’ clock, I am in Leuchars, on a trail between the fields there’s a first runner with a dog and I’m waiting for the train to head back to the south. In the sunshine the landscape looks even more beautiful then when I saw it first and I would love to go walking here once. The air is crisp and clean and it’s already starting to warm up for the day.
18 h left on the ticket. I’m looking forward to a bed, a shower, Cambridge. This couldn’t possibly get any better.
14/06/2011
Oh, but it can obviously. I’m on the train along the east coast just passing through Alnmouth and everything screams: “Build a house here, stay here, make me your home!”, and I want to. Even more so because it already looks like home, if it weren’t for the sea. I want to go home. In this very moment. Like home-home. To my grandmother’s village, to my best friend’s house, to the summers I loved so much I decided they should never end. And they didn’t. And so I decide that this should never end: The perception of every step as part of a journey, the eyes open wide for every station on the way, travelling only with hand-luggage. It shall never end.
14/06/2011
First impressions of Cambridge: It ha definitely the weather on its side. It has the better postcards though the stunning architecture is not as concentrated as in Oxford. Generally it feels bigger and wider. I sit down on the first pasture I see and pretend to be a student here. It works. For me.
14/06/2011
“You have to be home before midnight!” – I’m feeling a little like Cinderella here and I just now realize how far it is from Cambridge to Bangor. I decide not to go via London but via Birmingham, which will take slightly longer, but I feel it would be a bit of an overkill to go through London yet again. So I hope I get the changes right and be in Bangor around eleven.
For Cambridge: I had a wonderful afternoon here. And at least I got the impression that it’s vastly different from Oxford. That may be due to a lot of factors: Weather, being here on a weekday, the station being further away from the city center, today being my last day on the trip… lots of things. But I think that I might’ve liked Cambridge even more than my poetry city Oxford. It fits. It’s not as posh. But still posh. In a grumpy kinda way… I can’t explain it any better. So Cambridge wins. For now.
14/06/2011
And now I am finally going to see it on my way home: Wolverhampton. The place that was only second choice on my Erasmus application. I’m going through it on my way to Crewe. It is nice to take a new route home, as it has been nice to see so many new places on this goodbye-tour. It leaves me hungry for more. I haven’t made it to some places, others I want to visit again – I brush my fingertips over golden landscapes and promise to come back. For Leeds and the South. And everything.
14/06/2011
Wolverhampton. What I see from the train is sad, grey, industrial, dead. With potential though. Maybe it is like Dessau. Maybe underneath the vastness there’s the most colourful life, the most authentic music, the rawest experience ever made. Now I’m curious. I will come back to this one day. But for now it is: Straight on to the sea!
14/06/2011
Home. I’m going home.
14/06/2011
Day 6 - Plymouth, Birmingham
In the business of Monday morning Plymouth looks way more alive than last night and especially the old port area is really pretty. It is not hard to imagine that many historical discoveries started here. Even the sky is making an effort and turning bright blue again. The plan for today is vague. I decide to board a train in the direction of Glasgow and get off somewhere.
13/06/2011
Happyhappyhappy. Last night on the tracks lies before me. Today I was in Birmingham, just wandering through Chinatown, sitting in the sun, looking at the cathedral and going online in Starbuck’s. I saw an amazing music store as well and was close to leaving a fortune there. But then I didn’t. My backpack is heavy enough as it is. As the Caledonian Sleeper seems to be the only night train offering seats as well as beds, I will take it again tonight, but only go to Leuchars and then back south to Cambridge. I would have liked to try the Rivera Sleeper from the South up to London but this one seems to offer beds only. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. I have to be in Bangor by midnight and will crisscross through England before that – I’m thinking Cambridge, Leeds, York, maybe Nottingham – I will go somewhere.
Tonight everything is love from the sheep on the meadow to the boats on the sea. Everything is love. I’m at this point, this certain point you reach while travelling – last time it was in Dublin - : This is the life and I am lucky to be here.
13/06/2011
20110613
Day 5 - Oxford, Plymouth
As it cuts right down to the bone
My blood is my pride
I worship you and thank you
For conquering me like this
I’m your fool
And I’m not ashamed of it
12/06/2011
Oxford. Though I’ve been told that Oxford would be posh, I somehow didn’t expect this. But it is a university city through and through – says I and can’t really explain what I mean by it. It reminded me of Münster. But it’s probably totally different. A stunning city – if at times snobbish – that does poetry. While the “city of learning” got soaked in rain today, the streets were filled with words of Carol Ann Duffy and Gwyneth Lewis and I bought more books than I should carry. I couldn’t resist though. Every word seemed to fit.
The buildings, streets, bikes, colleges – everything was secondary to this great relief: poetry!
I’m already excited about going to Cambridge and comparing it to Oxford. Maybe Cambridge is a little less tourist-y? We’ll see. I’m now on a train to Plymouth but will probably hop off in Exeter to take a look around there. I put the philosophy book aside for now and read Carol Ann Duffy’s “Rapture” – a work of poetry I can highly recommend and will read from cover to cover.
12/06/2011
‘cause if you read this book and nod all the way through, if you love like this, it is right and it should be enough. Sometimes it isn’t though. But I hope you’ll find this. You’re cut out for it.
12/06/2011
I just realized: I have less than 2 weeks left in the UK. It’s surreal. Even though almost all of the others are already home – it does feel strange to leave this country for good. It is my country now. I claim it. Its grassy hills, its stony coast, small cottages and lovely people now constitute my home as well.
12/06/2011
After months spent in North Wales one things becomes more apparent with every mile I travel: I am falling for South England. It has me thinking of Denmark and summer holidays, back when I was young and silly (only silly now ;)). It makes me miss home. Home being Germany, not necessarily Saxony-Anhalt, more Brandenburg really, with its fields and small rivers and forests.
And the rain. The rain is our coat. It’s draped over our summer burns like a blanket and we lie on the ground staring up in disbelief, while faint music still proclaims what we can feel a little less now: We are flames. Burning.
12/06/2011
Plymouth has the most pleasant rain ever. It is the heaviest drizzle I’ve ever seen and it soaks everything through and through. The hostel is occupied by Germans and Austrians – mostly older people who wander along the coast. I’m not really sure what Plymouth has to offer. On a rainy Sunday afternoon like this, it lies dead and tired on the coast. On big screens they show Formula 1, but nobody is watching, they are all busy with the rainy Sunday afternoon routine: staying in, lazing around, watching TV, making love.
I like it here. I like everything today.
12/06/2011
20110611
Day 4 - Aberdeen, York, Oxford
Apart from that I travel with strange people: Grown women who suck their thumbs while staring out the window, business men reading the latest Spiderman comic and four generations of an Asian family in different states of distress.
I enjoy train hopping a lot and I am glad to have chosen this way of travelling.
11/06/2011
Aberdeen is a little bland after Brighton and it is so far off that I stay there only for 3 hours before heading to York in order to make it to Oxford at some point tonight. Nevertheless, it was good to come here for the great landscape and the journey on the Caledonian Sleeper alone. I’d never have thought I would enjoy looking out of train windows so much.
11/06/2011
11/06/2011
Much of the train route runs along the coast and as we have wet weather today the view is somewhat alien: The sky is hanging low and very white, while the sea lies undisturbed and black beneath it. More than anything else I am observing and absorbing everything I come across.
11/06/2011
Vera says I might be moving too fast. Only I am not. I’m just moving fast enough to not think. ‘cause this is somehow the main aim of this trip: To fight this losing battle alone, to look out the windows and at different cities and never back, because I might get sick; to cover as much ground as possible, so the days can feel like weeks, because I need weeks off. What I am undertaking here is no tourist trip, no sightseeing tour – it is an elaborate distraction, a huge white noise to drown out everything else.
11/06/2011
I have the feeling I should take a closer look at Newcastle. Out of the train it looks like a disturbingly ugly hotchpotch of different architectural styles: really modern, really old, flashy, dirty, loads of glass, red brick buildings, little towers and arches, big H-Blocks, factories that are withering away and overgrown parks – could be a city for me.
11/06/2011
One of the most fascinating things of travelling alone are the states of frustration and near-depression one goes through and how one doesn’t give in. In this very moment I only want to catch the next train to Bangor, fall into my bed and stay there until the world goes away. I don’t though. I convince myself that whatever comes next on the trip is the better alternative and I remain close to the east coast, so the distance to Bangor doesn’t get too small.
It’s not a new phenomenon, I felt like this before, not only on solitary trips. But it’s more intense then, because no one can push you but yourself. So I keep pushing, creating a dark and unwelcoming picture of Bangor in my head. Today is half-time and North Wales will have to wait until I’m done with what I try not to do: processing.
11/06/2011
And then – finally – York! The sunshine is back and the city is just insane. The great limestone Minster, the city walls, the theatre – this is way better than lying in my bed in Bangor. While I am looking at a statue of Constantine a man plays “Don’t cry for me Argentina” on his Zither, people sing along, one couple starts dancing – I don’t know how they do it – being so amazing on a black day like this.
The time I have in York is not really plenty, but I don’t have to rush either and so I take my time to stroll through the Museum Gardens, buy Belgian Waffles on the market and listen to two guitar players for a while. This is so different to Aberdeen with its port and grey brick buildings. Around the ruins in the Museum Gardens grows Lavender and along the river stand willows – all is young and green and more spring-like than anything else. It’s good that I didn’t spontaneously hop off in Newcastle, ‘cause I think it wouldn’t have made me as happy as this. This being blue skies and squirrels and music. That’s what I meant when I talked about my fascination with the downtimes of travelling: You turn ‘round the corner and suddenly you don’t want to go home anymore. You want to walk on. And see more.
11/06/2011
Day 3 Bath, Brighton, London and up north
I’m on the train to Brighton now and will probably spend tonight on a train to Aberdeen.
10/06/2011
Brighton is love! Due to some train problems I have only a few hours in Brighton, but its bright blue sky and the shiny, happy people there conquer my heart immediately. The beautiful architecture, the bohemian aura and the indie music even in the supermarkets convinces me. This is a place to fall in love with and this rush of euphoria saves me for today. May things on the continent be as the are – Brighton is love.
10/06/2011
Now, now! I boarded the train in Brighton at 1849 and my train from London to Aberdeen should go at 2115 – plenty of time it seems, but little did I know that it virtually takes ages to get from London Victoria Station to London Euston! I was close to hysteria in the London Overground, then ran from one platform to another – now it’s 2132 and we’re still in Euston. But I found my seat – comfy – and had the dinner I bought in Brighton, tasting of sapphire skies. I am looking forward to this night on the train. Another adventure.
10/06/2011
Day 2 Bristol, Bath
Funny dialogue in the kitchen this morning: “Yeah well, I’ve been up to Snowdon.” – “Wow, how many days did it take you?” – that’s the German thing: If you write “highest mountain”(in Wales) they expect an Everest-like expedition.
Today Bristol. I took First Great Western trains to get here and thought I must somehow ended up in the first class: TV! Internet! Comfy seats! I’ll try to go to Brighton with them as well.
I’m now sitting on the city promenade trying to figure out where to go to cover as much street art as possible. I’ve already seen a few graffitis and walked through pink paint. I think I really like Bristol – but that was to be expected: Hannover is its twin city!
9/6/2011
Now Bath. I met up with Jesus, Chris and Laura for Lunch and then went to the Royal Crescent to have a look at a Georgian house from the inside. Bath itself is breathtakingly beautiful: Most of the buildings are made from Limestone which gives the city a very bright, posh look. It was a really nice day and it was great to meet the others again.
…At the moment I’m pretty annoyed with the WiFi here – I desperately want to look something up!
9/6/2011
And suddenly these international minutes are good for something. Better than good. Really, really good.
9/6/2011
20110608
Spontaneity is what it takes... Day one - Cardiff
This will be my travel journal as usual. Sometimes updated in real time, but I foresee that this will not always be the case. Let's start:
Day one
Today the weather outside pretty much matches the weather inside.
I got up at 5 today while outside stormy grey skies sang about apocalyptic battles and approaching last times. When Vera and I got onto the train the sun broke through and at least the sky left of the train was blue. After I changed in Crewe I tried to catch some sleep on the train and awoke to a brillant blue hanging above Newport, only to arrive in Cardiff with a heavy shower. When I met Laura for a coffee a few minutes later the sun was shining again and it wasn't 'til Laura left me that the rain returned. Since then it's been changing constantly between sun and rain.
And that's just how I feel. I am excited to be in Cardiff especially after I read so much literature that was written and/or set here in the last semester. But every now and then my chest tightens when it hits me that this semester is over, that it's time to go home soon. My heart is breaking a little bit every time I think about it. I've lost my heart, I found a home, I opened my eyes wider, I danced in the rain, walked up an down steep hills and found my own way between shortcuts and road maps.
I'm going to celebrate all the greatness I experienced in the next few days.
'cause for me it isn't over.
8/6/2011
"In these stones horizons sing"
This is my mantra while I'm strolling through Cardiff. The tightness in my chest now feels more as if I'm making Carpaccio out of my heart - I feel like staying in my room for a week crying and listening to sad songs would be the right thing to do. And I am glad that I can't do that, so glad I have to keep moving, because it makes it a little easier to ignore the pain long enough to breathe.
So I went to Cardiff Bay to finally see Gwyneth Lewis's poem on the Millenium Centre with my own eyes. Her poetry still gets me even after going over it ad nauseam for my essay on her. I would like to get one of her books, so I can leaf through it on the train. I'll have to look out for a book store later.
8/6/2011
I hope, I just so hope that today was the hardest day. I'm not sure I can take another one as intense as this one.
20110606
Born to travel - last weeks in the UK
20110425
From A to B
20110423
Day fourteen
Don't worry, don't stew - worlds break apart while I'm here, we've trusted the bad guys again - but this is the life. I'm up for it. It will take my breath and tear me down. It has taken my breath already. So I open my arms wide, for this, my love, is ours.
Back in the hostel we had lunch and moved into our new room, which was quiet small in comparison to all the other rooms on our trip. And because there are so many shops in Edinburgh selling absolutely useless but really pretty stuff, Veera and I ventured to spend some money there. Though we didn't really in the end. But it was fun going there anyway.
At 7 we all met on the Grassmarket for the free Ghost tout, which was fun but not wuite as good as the free city tour. And becaue it was our last evening we decided to have dinner in The Tass on the Royal Mile before entertaining the whole street while stroling up the Royal Mile looking for a pub. When we finally found one that was not too crowded I hardly managed to drink 2 pints of Caledonian before it closed - I'm still amazed that the pubs close so early here - it is unreal! So Unreal!
Today we ate a deep fried Mars bar - which is an absolutely genius concept! And I highly recommend it to everybody. We also tried to walk up to Arthur's Seat - but due to the fog we didn't go all the way to the summit. Fog? Yeah, on our last day we had actually a little glimpse of what Scottish weather is supposed to be like. So we really got the feeling of being in Scotland. But now as we're sitting in the train the sun is up and shining again. We've really been blessed. Not only with the weather, but also with the hostels, the traffic, the cars, the people we've met - and with each other.
I have to admit I was a bit afraid that there would be some kind of fight along the way. But there wasn't. Only mocking, fun and good humour. We've made it happen. And now off to Bangor, where the clock ticks on and the end of the semester is approaching fast. It's really unbelievable! I can't imagine that the Erasmus group will break up in a few weeks, that in fact the first people will be leaving in May already. Because most of them I hold dear. Another journey almost completed.
Day thirteen
gosh, how I miss you
I can't even tell
I try to stay
try to stay sane
But I want to tell you. It would be good. We would still be good. Wouldn't we?
Day twelve
falling from the heartbeat of this girl [...]
falling from the people that we hurt,
falling from the love we never earned,
falling from the sky that should have burned,
falling from my heart..." - 'And the boys', Angus & Julia Stone
The concert was so much summer - it hurt. It began with Veera and me standing in the queue listening to the people behind us - Erasmus students - a boy from France and a girl from Berlin. I joked that it can't be that hard to find someone from Finland in the queue as well, when the other girl behind us said that she will go back to Finland in May for a job interview - oh irony!
When we finally got in we directly headed for the merch corner, where I bought an EP of the opening act before even hearing him play. He was good though and I'm looking forward to listen to him sime more. The set up between Steve Smyth and Angus & Julia Stone seemed to take forever and at one point I thought that all this - the night bus, the aching feet, the stuffy heat - is too much and the concert probably won't be worth it... But then they finnaly entered the stage and after a few chords it became apparent: totally worth it.
The stage set up, the story telling, the interaction with the audience gave the concert a quite intimate atmosphere. I would've liked to stay forever (and I so want to see them again), but we had a bus to catch and so we made our way to the station smiling from ear to ear. And then finally on the way to Edinburgh; via WiFi online only to post on facebook to let Susi know what greatness I just witnessed. And the rest of the journey spent half-conscious, 'til the phone rang and Vera made it clear that my birthday was somehow not impossible to figure out... What was odd was that this call was held in German and I had been hearing German all day. I heard it in the Glaswegian accent, I heard it in the Spanish in the breakfast room, I heard it in the French on George Square - but it was never there. Maybe I feel homesick for a language I speak on an almost daily basis... how strange!
Once in Edinburgh the next challenge was to find the hostel. A not quite so easy task but in the end Viljo fetched us and brought us there. I was a puddle of tiredness and only wanted to go to bed, but not without telling the others about the concert first and they were in the common room. With a cake. And candles. And sparkling wine. There goes another year unchecked for not celebrating my birthday. It was great of them though. They even managed to find decent cake. Which can be a real drag. the rest is a bit blurry because of the tiredness.
Today Edinburgh. After breakfast we set out for the free city tour which took 3 1/2 hours. We should have done one of these tours in Dublin as well - that would have been better than the hop on- hop off bus tour.
Edinburgh is totally different from Glasgow - older, prettier, more likeable in a way. I am glad we've seen Glasgow though - so we've covered a wider range of what Scotland is like.
After the city tour and lunch I stumbled through some shops with Veera and Tiia and I ended up with three CDs. That leaves me with 6 CDs on this trip. Not a bad result even for me. I think I'll follow these daily reports up with a short review for every Cd when back at home. We'll see.
Day eleven
Now we wait. On George Square in the sun. 'til it's finallytime to dump our luggage at the bus station and go to the concert.
Day ten
Yesterday we went to see the botanic garden in the People's Palace and the Doulton Fountain, complete with bench hopping, ice cream and cake. While we were at this really exhausting task, Jill and Veera went for a run. Tiia, Viljo, Chris and I just wandered around the city, browsing comic books at shabby flee markets and enjoying the Glaswegian architecture which I absolutely love. After a stroll on the shopping street we had greasy pizza for lunch and then Chris and I went for a nap.
When we were smoking a cigarette after dinner, we were amazed by a HUGE moon, that seemed to be moving really fast - apocalypse seemed a real option and I realized that for the first time in years I have unfinished business. It's a strange feeling. Too strange to last.
When we understood that the world was to live another day, we went out for some gay pubs with Chris and me ending up in Bennet's which had danceable music but was obscurely empty. Britons don't go out on Sunday night it seems.
The Glaswegian accent is terrible! Though people at the club talked to us, we hardly understood anything, because the language was so distorted. So we just smiled and nodded. Which got us through the night somehow.
Day nine
I am sitting on my bed in Glasgow, the sun draws patterns on my feet and my hands are reaching out for Dublin. Or not for Dublin - for Ireland. Or maybe not even that...
The bus to Dublin Airport was our last way together, Laura got off somewhere in the city and after we juggled with the check-in some time, we left Vera in terminal 2 waiting for her flight to London. The flight to Glasgow was astonishingly short and the UK prices on cigarettes led us to believe it might be paradise we're headed to ;). Not so much though. While the hostel is an okay place to stay in, it is the worst on our trip so far: big, anonymous, maybe with something I would call the Glasgow charm.
The city itself still awaits us as we were really exhausted last night and only went for one beer at Wetherspoons.
To venture on without Laura and Vera feels decidedly strange - I always count people and feel there's someone missing...
Day eight
Yesterday in the museum of modern art and later walking through the sun I was euphoric. As if I was anticipating a date that I had in the evening, as if everything had in an instant become more meaningful, as if I was changed and the world through me.
When noon came, a word started resounding in my head so loudly, it was difficult to hear anything else. - People are taken by other things, responsibilities, life plans, passions and I have just met what destiny held in store, or I overestimated how much travelling can affect you.
I met destiny. It' this. It's you. It's me in this very moment. And it will pass me by.
I don't have words for it
I shake my hands in joy
and throw my head back
you might have to close your eyes
--
Day seven
esterday we went for the hop-on hop-off bus tour to get the big picture of what Dublin is like, while freezing our socks off in the topless bus. To warm up again we had lunch in the Temple Bar area, all the time grading the attreactiveness of the passers by. - Let's just say, that despite the fact that the people here seem to be prettier than in Bangor, there's still room for improvement ;).
While the others fell into the abyss of a shopping spree in the afternoon, I tried to get some much needed sleep in the hostel. Without success. But because sleep deprivation takes its toll gradually, the 2 hours rest helped lots anyway.
The shopping of the others was a mission with mixed results as well - while Laura came back with half a wardrobe, Vera and Tiian didn't find anything.
The question for the evening was: To pub crawl or not to pub crawl? While Jill, her friend and Viljo decided to get pissed the cheap way and join the pub crawling group of the hostel, the rest of ust chopped vegetables, paicked over lost keys (which weren't lost), showered, opened wine bottles and beer cans and ultimately had a great dinner. Dinner conversation was surrealistically heavy alternating between sex and death.
Dishes off into the dishwasher and wee off to the gay bar, gay bar! Though finding one proved to be not as easy as expected. Finally we ended up in the Pantybar for one drink, watching and discussingdragqueens before the bar closed. Next stop was the Temple Bar, where we pushed our way through the crowd so we could see the stage. Unfortunately it was too crowded to really dance there, because the live music was really good. The Temple Bar area reminds me of the area around the Thomaskirche in Leipzig - tourists galore and lots of live music. Though they still could learn something about reasonably pricing drinks here...
On the way home we've been intimidated by ne of the more drunk women, who in the end threatened to slap Laura. This reminded me so much of my Amsterdam trip that I automatically started looking for coffee shops and red light districts. To no avail though. Dublin's still Dublin. As if to further stress this, we meet Viljo on the way home. A very pissed Viljo. How he even managed to cross the street without being run over evades me. We made him walk home with us, in case he'd try his luck with crossing streets again.
"...but it may be pills at work" - Goldfrapp
I feel drugged the way this world seems to spin a little faster now...
Day six
First evening in Dublin was fab. First Irish Stew for free dinner, where we finally met Jill, Sandra and Julian. Then we put the clothes in the dryer, went to a pub in the Temple Bar area and were the only ones dancing to the great live music. After we dances into Vera's birthday and stole a martini glass, Veera, Chris and Julian went home, while Vera, Laura, Viljo, Tiia and I wanted to go to another pub/club. We ended up dancing and singing in Dublin's streets without ever making it into another bar. - An evening to be stowed away for bad times, to be drawn on later, when youth has left us.
When we got home our clothes were out of the dryer. And still wet. Which is basically why I am sitting here at 4 am waiting for the third dryer cycle to finish and hoping the clothes will be dry at some point.
Day five
tagelang
beeindruckt -
ich hab sie angefasst..." - Go Plus
It's like that now. Naturalism.
Jill is somewhere in the city already, being posh and doing something like a spa day.
Galway left me with "The Book of Longing" by Leonard Cohen. A first leafing through tells mee that these texts will come to me much later. They will come. And I will be awaiting them.
Day four
look around you,
change your heart -
it will astound you"
Somehow Bec is the background music of the Irish morning programme on the TV screen in the dining area in Killarney. This simple coincidence seems to question if last night's sleeplessness really was the result of the obnoxiously loud snoring. I don't exaggerate when I say obnoxiously loud! That definitely taught me to bring my earplugs next time I sleep in a hostel...
Still I cannot really complain. Too lovely is the weather, too well are we all getting along.
When we arrived in Killarney yesterday we went to the lake right away. It proved to be a stunning sight, especially with the two rainbows that followed the April shower we walked through.
The destination for today is Galway. Maybe we'll take Jamie with us, who is from New York and quite the spontaneous traveller it seems.
--
I know for a while now that life is this: An adventurous journey undertaken separately... or was that love?
Today might be the most stressful, but also breathtaking in a good way. We drove along the ring of Dingle stopping hereand there to admire the landscape, take pictures and walk barefoot in the sea. Now we're on the ferry in Tarbert - this proves to be a real road trip complete with searching radio stations, eating at McDonald's, taking small winding roads, getting lost in Tralee... Now off to Cliffs of Moher and then Galways. It's one of these journeys that leave you changed.
Day three
Ireland feels a little bit like home, but that might be because I' with the same people all the time. Which is still comfortable and not suffocating. Being around other people constantly somehow means that I don't have to think everything through. So I trade brooding for reading the map and hope it's the sensible thing to do.
Apart from travelling in itself being a thing of wonder, spring is finally working its full magic. 'Til Kristin, Julia and Stephan visited last week I didn't really pay any attention to how different the flora is here compared to Germany. But now every blossom in the trees, every newly disco vered flower gives proof of their observation. The absence of harsh winters allows huge rosebushes, palmtrees and other things I don't even know the names of to grow. It's nice how sometimes the salty breeze and sweet flowery scents mingle. And it reminds me of how Wales doesn't feel like I thought it would most of the time. Not that you can really anticipate that. I know. I'm still on the case of living the dream...
Day two - Tag zwei
Und hier in den Aufzeichnungen wieder Deutsch? Ich weiß auch nicht wie es kommt, aber es wird ab jetzt immer die Sprache des ersten Gedankens genommen. Soweit das möglich ist. Und morgens ist all mein Sein doch sehr deutsch.
Uns erwartet ein Tag in Kilkenny, die Fahrt nach Cork und vermutlich noch mehr Abenteuer.
It feels like today has been lasting weeks and weeks. First we've been around Kilkenny, looking at the chapel and the castle, walking barefoot through the park, just enjoying the sund while Laura was in the castle. After a short trip to SPAR we cooked lunch (a.k.a. Spaghetti+Sauce) in our hostel and then proceeded to drive to Cashel to look at Cashel Rock there. We didn't manage to get out of Kilkenny without getting lost, but eventually we arrived at Cashel and had a guided tour through the castle. The weather was still perfect and when I strolled through the city with Vera and Laura afterwards we even bought some ice cream to make the summer feeling complete.
In the way from Cashel to Cork it became excruciatingly clear that the atmosphere in the respective cars was very different. While Vera, Tiia, Veera and me tried to work as a team and keep the peace - always encouragin, calm and supportive-, Laura felt really stressed by Chris and Viljo, to the point where Laura was really pissed off when we arrived in Cork. So we will switch tomorrow, so that I'm in the car with Laura and Chris and Vera will drive the Finnish car.
Cork has that trademark port-city feeling without lacking the Irish flair. But if anybody says anything again about the Irish being bankrupt - I don't see how?! Everything is so fecking expensive! In comparison Wales seems cheap!
Anyway. Apart from the physical movement, I still try to come to terms with my emotional journey. Not that I can see any change yet. Or feel. If anything things are going downhill. I think I never had that big a crush on someone I know so little about. So I'm telling myself - it can't be my heart, that fluttery lightness in my chest that's almost painful. It can't be my heart. It cannot.
Day one
Ireland, Scotland and beyond
if you roll down the window you'll see
you're where you don't belong..."
The journey goes on and the set up was this:
Bangor, Kilkenny, Cork, Killarney, Galway, Dublin, Glasgow, Edinburgh. Ambitioned but not megalomaniac.
The following posts are the digitalized version of my travel journal - unabridged.