The Wild Rover

My big vacation this year wasn't warm, tropical and beachy, by any means. Which meant that I went in a different direction for preparing le bod for the summer. Bikini ready? Psh. 
I got my body CAFTAN ready.

 Step 1: Eat anything you want. 

Step 2: Wrap yourself in a giant, gauzy bathrobe. (Turban optional.)

Just keeding. I did just get back from the least-summery summer vacay, though. Packing for Ireland was a bit of an endeavor; I had to dig out my Texas-winter clothing to find things suitable for Irish-summer weather. As someone who loves cold weather and doesn't see nearly enough of it, that was just fine by me. 

Mumsie & I chose to do a coach tour around the whole of Ireland because we really didn't want to rent our own car and drive on the wrong side of the road. That would only have ended with one or both of us crying in a ditch surrounded by sheep.

This was our itinerary. So much bus. So much green. So much sheeps.  

Trinity College Library & my boy, Homer. I die. 

This tour was such a lesson in patience. 

1: Old people everywhere. I knew that going into it, but seeing them in real life was totally different. I spoke with a man who had just turned ninety. NINETY. 9-0. He legitimately talked about World War II and the Great Depression. HE WAS ALREADY OLD WHEN I WAS BORN. Inconceivable. 

Glendalough, a medieval monastic settlement. 

2: The other travelers in our group were really confused when they found out that we're only the slightest bit Irish and we couldn't trace any of our relatives to a specific place in Ireland. As if the only reason to travel somewhere is to trace your lineage. #schmucks 

Blarney Castle, baby. 

3: Understandably, most of those Irish-ish folk were from the East Coast/Midwest. But I am unable to handle people from the East Coast, apparently. The group of middle aged sisters (I referred to them as the Weird Sisters in my head all week) laugh-wheezed like Marge's sisters from The Simpsons. And I was going to die if I had to hear the Midwesterners say the word "scone" one more time. It was adorable at first, but then no. 

Sheep herding & the mistiest Cliffs of Moher you ever did see. 

4: The lady assigned to the seat behind us whispered the whole time. She was traveling alone and we could never figure out if she was talking to us or herself. BECAUSE SHE WHISPERED EVERYTHING. Sometimes it would be reading signs aloud (in a whisper) or it would be telling us about her evening (in a whisper). ALWAYS IN A WHISPER. After the first couple of days, I learned to just play dead. 

The Emerald Isle & Giant's Causeway. 

But even with all the other (ugh) people, it was gorgeous and I am eternally grateful for parents willing to send me on fabulous trips. Especially since my life will be over for three years, come August. :|

Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude

Despite the fact that there are one million things to get done before this trip happens, 
I am choosing to focus on the trip to IRELAND my mom and I are taking in July. 
So. Excited. 
I traveled to Scotland before my semester abroad and absolutely fell in love. 
Like I-could-imagine-myself-living-there love. And Ireland is the next best thing, right? (Don't tell them I said that.)
Also I've seen P.S. I Love You & The Quiet Man about a thousand times, so I think I'm covered on Irish culture. (I'm assuming there will be attractive men as far as the eye can see.)

I'm extremely excited for this trip, but I am quite possibly the worst traveller in the history of the world. I did just fine until an overseas trip in high school during which my ear drum ruptured on the flight to Rome (Note: This was a trip for choir, and we had several performances lined up. I had to sing with a ruptured ear drum and I couldn't hear myself at all. Just the worst.). After that trip, I have been such a pansy about airsickness, carsickness, seasickness, you name it. So I have to prepare more than the average Joe for trips.

Travel Essentials 

1. Stuffed luggage: I overpack. Every time. It's a thing I've come to expect, yet I cannot stop myself. There is no way I could know if I'll need boots or sandals, so it's smartest to pack both, right? And eight scarves doesn't seem excessive at all. Look cute or die trying. 

2. Travel pillow: I spent so long completely ignorant of the beauty of the travel pillow. Now I have no fear of accidentally falling asleep on a stranger's shoulder. It's such a lovely, free way to be. 

3. Tangled earbuds: As if you'll ever pull these out of your bag tangle-free. At least it gives you something to do while the plane is taxiing. And then you can quickly pop these suckers in to avoid conversation with the person next to you (sorry, Mom). 

4. Dramamine: As mentioned above, I am a terrible flier. In order for things to go smoothly, I have to be drugged beyond comprehension. That Less Drowsy formula does. not do. it. I need to pass out before we've even left the ground. #ballerstatus

5. Themed playlist: I am the self-proclaimed queen of trip playlists. Local artists are the only acceptable music I will listen to on the way to a destination. I listened to that "500 Miles" song about 50 times while in Scotland. And no, I am not at all ashamed that my Ireland playlist includes B*Witched. C'est la vie, bitches. 

6. Gardetto's: My junk food of choice. And everyone knows calories don't count while traveling. Since I plan on eating nothing but fish and chips once I get over there, I don't think eating Gardetto's is going to make a huge difference. 

7. Tiny bottles of alcohol: Just in case the Dramamine wears off and I wake up like an elephant come off a tranq, I need a little something-something to knock me out again. When in Ireland, drink as the Irish do...