Green pastures : Ireland

Adventure wonderland hit and I decided to take my first solo trip off to the Emerald Isle, heading to the little Irish town of Dingle. Working alongside as a graphic designer, I was able to live with a lovely lady called Paula for my stay and safely hovelled within her beautiful hole. The trip was to stand on my own and find places I love once again, and boy did it do that ...

Within the walls, of Dick Macks I found not only glasses of hot port and pints of Guinness but some life long pals and the community of musicians that will forever me with me. Taken down to the sea side to meet Fungi, the dolphin who has been swimming around the harbour heartbroken (according to tales) for the past 35 years made my Valentine by leaping to next to me on the sea shore.

The most significant story on the two treasured weeks in my neighbouring isle sums up the whole trip when I decided to have a day hiking through the dreary February drizzle. All aboard I packed myself up with two apples and set out walking on my way, . Within a short space of time, a little Irish lady drove up beside me and offered to hitch a ride. As we got chatting, lovely Cathryn offered to take me back to her house to print me off a map and talk me through a walk as an old tour guide (I'm not advocating jumping into stranger's Fiat's but sometimes you meet sunshine!) After a freshly baked scone and cup of tea, I ended for a swim in the freezing cold Atlantic of Vestry Beach and immediately felt like me again with an endless calm view of shores and still, flat sea.

Once I had stopped shivering and wiped the sand of my feet, a hail storm decided to hit. So, in true Irish style, I made my base in the warmth of a silent and still candlelit church. Once I'd settled up with a cup of tea, and regained feeling in my toes, I headed off once again on my hike. The sun peeked over the great hills and beyond, leaving me ended right at the end of the Dingle Penisula, with down by Duquin and the seascape of Slea Head Drive. As the walk got on, six hours in I realised that I'd be lost down the meandering roads overlooking the Blasket Isles, so once again my thumb peeked out. Time got on and I ended up refilling my bottle from a creek in the hillside and if by magic a rainbow appeared before finally signalling down a lovely couple of photographers a few hours in. Taken back to Dingle, I ended my evening sing songing by the fireplace and meeting many lovely men with guitars and making me feel truly at home. It's the magic you find in the little places, and knowing that anywhere small and kind can be home when you find the people that make you laugh and smile, thank you Ireland.