Tag: ireland

The Roads of Baja

There is a strong draw, felt by a number of nomads, to explore the wild spaces rarely visited by “tourists”. One reason is the lack of transportation capable of handling the washed out, wash board dirt roads found in these areas. Another, the urge to stay in the familiar, attached to cell phones, TV and the comforts of the brick and mortar of a home. When we tell some of our journeys, they all gasp and wonder where we ever got the need to wander.

There is a pull to the desert that has enveloped Chris and I. A need for open spaces, a dry climate and room to roam freely, sometimes without seeing another soul for days. The chance meetings often turn into deep conversations and a fire side chat recounting trials and tribulations of life on the road. We share our stories, sometimes harrowing and unbelievable. Perhaps it’s a draw to face death at every turn, or perhaps the thrill of adventure and to push the envelope beyond the comfort level of the normal human. This takes us to today, four and a half years of being free and able to travel at will, one with our surroundings.

In February of 2021, we hooked up with a caravan of three, Chris and I and two other gals, and crossed the border into Baja Mexico, for the first time. There’s a call we lean towards and freely give into, that paves the way for our wander lust. Baja seemed like the great western frontier that we needed to explore and conquer. Armed with only our cell phones and a good translation app, Garmin GPS, and a competent van, we set out to explore a country unknown to us; a 1,000 mile journey full of new flora and fauna, animals and sea life. I found it so inspiring that I wrote a book while traveling through Baja for 3 months. Fast forward to January 2025 and here we are again.

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It’s been a tough 2 years emotionally. After loosing our corgi Gandaulf, we sold our first van and all the toys we had accumulated during our travels and set out to travel around the world. Seven months traveling around Europe and another four months in SE Asia, Indonesia, and Malaysia, then back to the States where we purchased another van to complete the Canada/Alaska trip we missed out on during our two and a half years living on the road.

Alaska and western Canada is another frontier of sorts. Not like the desert but just as grand and open. The roads in each very similar; pot holed and delaminated. The punishing washboard roads in dire need of repair, are enough to put any van build or truck to the test. there would be whole days of traveling 3-400 miles and never cross another vehicle. We were never sure if the paved sections of the roads were better than the dirt roads, both held their own dangers. The grandeur of the Alaskan and Yukon outbacks are hard to match, even in the deserts of the south western USA. Still, the desire to revisit Baja California, Mexico and the desert was strong.

Today, January 6, 2025, I’m writing you while enjoying coffee and the warm sun of La Paz, Baja California Sur, surrounded by fellow travelers. We’ve traveled 1350km so far, with another 300km to go. The roads to this point have been narrow two lane highways, with little to no safety lane and often no shoulders. There are times when we must come to a complete stop to walk the van through deep potholes and slow to a crawl when passing trucks come barreling around blind corners. There are constant signs of accidents, both with roadside crosses and mangled guardrails, straightened out or completely ripped from the supports and trailing off into deep ravens as if pointing to the site of a wayward vehicle leaving the road and plummeting to its end. Often times, there will be stretches of road that have carcasses of dead cows, horses or the unidentifiable remains of some unfortunate animal, usually struck at night by a speedy semi, as they come to the flat roads to sleep. It’s a constant reminder that it only takes a second of misfortune to end a life.

So our nomadic wandering continues with so much more to see and experience. We may be absent but we are always present where ever we find ourselves. Living in the moment, sometimes with no set direction but forward. Always savoring the newness of each destination and rolling with whatever may come our way.

2023 Travel Year in Review

Our 2023 Tally of Planes Trains and Stays
Where we slept on 2023

116 nights Apartments or B&Bs
89 nights Hotels
46 nights House Sits
36 nights Pet Sits
32 nights Camping in Vans US, Europe
12 nights Cabins or Lodge
8 nights Friends or Family
8 nights Boats
2 nights Planes
2 nights Trains
1 night Hostel
1 night Home Stay in Cambodia

Other Stats

27 Individual flights taken

11 Long Distance Train Travel Days

19 Long Distance Bus Rides

11 Days traveling by Boat

16 Countries Visited in Order
3 Islands

United States
Bahamas
Ireland
Scotland
Portugal
Maderia (Island)
Azores (Island)
Germany
Austria
Spain
Croatia
Montenegro
Bosnia & Herzegovina
Cyprus
Vietnam
Con Dao Islands
Cambodia
Thailand
Koh Ngai (Island)
Koh Lanta (Island)
Laos

One Door Closes…Another Opens

We set out from Utah over a month ago. We said our farewells and hopped on a plane, one carry-on sized roller bag each, one shared large backpack, and a small carry-on pack each. All our worldly possessions in those bags. It was a bittersweet parting, but the world has become our oyster, and we plan to explore it for a few years. Our goal is to find somewhere we can settle down for a while, but never long enough for the grass to grow under our feet.

Our first stop was Ireland, an incredibly enchanting isle, full of wonderful food, drink, music and genuinely kind people. The scenery was jaw dropping gorgeous, the roads narrow and windy. We rented a camper van from Indie Campers out of Dublin…once a van lifer it’s so hard to break away from the freedom it affords. Our challenge…driving on the left side of the road, in a right hand drive stick shift.

I, being the navigator, was also reminding Chris to turn left stay left and turn right stay left as well. I’d say that after 5 days, she developed the muscle memory it takes to take on manning the controls on her own. For the next few weeks I still had my place not only getting us were we needed to be safely, I gradually returned the turn signals to her. She did splendidly, even coming to complete stops when a large truck or bus was barreling down on us. Next came the round-about or traffic circle. There were normally 3 to 5 exists out of each one it was just picking what one would take you where you needed to go. Mostly we had GPS to tell us where to go. I would sit with my arm out like a compass needle pointing our way through each and operating the turn signal as Chris shifted. What a team we made!

I think what I loved the most about this fine country, was the architecture and the accompanying tales of the families over hundreds of years. Some buildings were built as far back as 1200. Tales of Vikings, Norse, Kings, and many other European invaders and religious conquests.

Political and religious history all incredibly fascinating, and standing in front of you was the building that saw all this history and still stood tall. Generations upon generations of land ownership and the hard work it took to eek out a living. Stories of whole villages wiped out by famine, war or plague. The flight of millions across uncharted waters to the New World of America. Strong and proud people.

Scotland was our next stop. We had made no plans except to rent another van and see where it took us. After the first few days in Ireland, we were in a bit of a panic about driving for another two weeks. Our initial plan was to drive the 515 +/- miles around the North Coast 500. It is a windy, mostly single track, paved road that hugged the north west coast all the way to the most northern tip of Scotland and back down the north east coast. We had seen pictures of the roads, but it was the scenery that was the biggest pull.

When we picked up the van we were thoroughly convinced that we didn’t have the driving skills, or perhaps courage, to take it on, so we began to make other plans. We made our way to Inverness, the start of the NC500 and booked a pitch at a wonderful campground. It was here that an older British man in a camper asked us if we were going to drive the NC500? I stood there as he explained the beauty and the chance to see huge cliffs and mountains. He was so convincing that we could do it, we had to give it a go.

The North Coast 500 started out as a big 4 lane road that meandered through bright yellow fields of grape seed farms, shaggy cows and fields of sheep grazing on the intensely green fields. The first real choice is whether to drive clockwise or anti-clockwise. We chose to do it clockwise so we could get a little more time driving under our belt before we tackled the 12-15% grades on the most northern end. This proved to be a wise move since most do it anti-clockwise. The roads quickly became narrow with a soft side, if at all. We were happy that the Scots weren’t as rock wall happy as the Irish and we didn’t feel that we’d take out the side of the van.

Passing became a common occurrence. It was quite simple really. One vehicle coming would pull off in a ‘passing place’ and flash their lights signaling to the oncoming driver to pass as they waited. This meant that you not only needed to pay attention to the road, but also look further ahead, sometimes a mile. The worst was the big truck, of which we didn’t pass many the first few days. They owned the roads and would rarely even slow down when passing and hardly ever stopped for you to pass. The tour buses as well would take their half out of the middle and some. We found both quite rude. There was one road right off that cautioned campers not to use it and an alternate route, 17 miles out of the way, was recommended. We sided on caution and the drive was spectacular. At the end of everyday of driving tho, Chris was spent. A cold beer was always waiting in the fridge.

Wild camping is allowed in Scotland. There are only a few rules. Don’t block and entrance or road, don’t park in a passing place and mind private property. We didn’t make any reservations hoping we could access some of these wild camping areas. We passed by several lovely pull offs that other campers had chosen but never did wild camp. Mainly because we didn’t want to use the toilet in the van to do anything but pee. The second reason was the fridge in the van ran off the batteries if not plugged in. Our van we built had solar so wild camping for weeks was not an issue. Here tho, if the fridge drew down the battery, there was no AAA or roadside assistance that could bail you out. Established campgrounds cost between €\£ 24-38 a night and all had running water and electric hook ups. This gave us peace-of-mind but also an added expense we didn’t plan on. So be it…from that first night on we made reservations.

We gave ourselves 9 days to do the whole route. By the time we reached Ullapool on the middle west coast however, the roads were getting steeper and the traffic heavier. We chose to head an hour and a half, which really meant 2-3 hours and set out across the middle to Golspie. From there we headed up to the north anti-clockwise, to John O’Groats and Dunnet Bay for a 2 night stay. The huge cliffs were a rookery for seabirds and wind swept green grasses grew right up to the tops, creating an incredibly stark contrast. We camped at Dunnet Bay right at the edge of the sea and nestled in the grass covered dunes. The next morning we set off for the Northern most part of Scotland for an obligatory photo shoot by the John ‘O Groats pole, then headed back down to Inverness and back across to Edinburgh.

The next morning we turned in the van for good. After driving in Ireland and Scotland for a month, it is time to move on to our next stop. Portugal!

All Good Things Must End

Today, we close the circle. Our travels through Ireland will conclude in 24 hours from now. Still, to this day, I’m not over the beauty. The thousands of shades of green. The incredible rich, vibrant colors of all the many flowers blooming as far as the eye can see. The hundreds of castles, churches and abbeys, holding the past inside their rocky, vine covered walls, like ancient time capsules. The bright smiles and chipper hellos from locals and travelers alike. The numerous small towns with their brightly painted buildings and historic pubs. I doubt that the memories will fade anytime soon.

I think the most interesting was hearing stories of the struggles of the proud, hard working Irish. The stories of sorrow and triumph. The strong, proud individuals that tried to make a difference for their countrymen in the time of need. The big men and women with large hands and kind hearts. The thick accents that change slightly as we traveled from county to county.

There were many times that I would be listening to our driver and I could envision the people he was talking about laughing and a dozen small children running around underfoot. The homes and land passed down through generations upon generations. The miles and miles of rock walls, the sheep dotting the green hillsides in white and pastel colors, splashed upon their backs showing ownership. The border collies running after them. Life, so simple and so hard.

Driving in Ireland

When we started planning this journey we really had no idea of what we were setting ourselves up for. We’ve never driven a right hand drive stick shift on the left side of the road, first of all. Secondly, we’ve never driven an “over-sized rig” on narrow roads. So perhaps we can save you some scary unknowns.

I’ll first start off with the advice we were given by a local bus driver…hug the white line. That means claim your space. The white line is the middle line, hugging it means your left hand side mirror stays out of the brush covering the rock walls lining the luge run.

Second tip, stop if you are nervous to pass and let the vehicle coming at you pass you. The alternatives…Loosing your right hand mirror and a possible head on collision.

Third, don’t let the vehicles following you intimidate you. There is plenty of opportunities for you to pull over, safely, and allow them to pass. If they are in a big hurry, which most drivers here are not, then they can pass when the law allows. You just need to slow down and allow them to overtake you.

Forth, there are red roads, orange roads and blue roads on the maps. These seem to be the widest, most of the time, and perhaps a bit quicker. Once a bartender laughed at us by not wanting to take the fastest route. He said, “it’s okay girls…there’s less traffic.” Well we risked it and the road was pretty much a one lane country road with pull overs to allow for on-coming cars to pass. This means you must pay attention and look beyond the road straight ahead.

Lastly, have a co-pilot that can remind you to turn right and stay left and turn left and stay left. You may think, that’s not necessary… maybe so, but when you’re trying to drive thru a traffic circle, shift, operate your blinker and exit at the proper time, it helps.

So, these are what we have been challenged with. Hopefully these few tips might help if you plan to travel to a European country that does use the left side to drive in a right hand drive vehicle.

The Ring of Kerry

What a glorious day indeed! The Irish coastline of Kerry, a fiord on the southeast side of the island surrounded by the Atlantic, is a magnificent combination of history and lore, blight and famine, conquest and survival. The peninsula is very isolated 179km of narrow, windy roads that takes off out of the small town of Killarney, Ireland. The drive takes approximately 3.5 hours without making any stops.

After our driving experience, we opted into taking a tour so Chris could admire the scenery, and not be so stressed. Turns out this was a fabulous idea and our driver gave us driving tips. He was a 68 year old from the O’Sullivan clan who had personal history living out on the peninsula as a boy. He drove milk trucks from village to village and had quite a reputation. As with all your drivers, he was a wealth of knowledge, singing, reciting poems and passing on the history.

I guess what struck us the most was the incredible shades of green. The incredible contrasts of the yellow Gorse bush or Furze. It is said that Furze bushes, like all other thorny bushes in Ireland such as hawthorn and white thorn, belong to the Sidhe, and often guard their portals to magical realms. It is a magical bush looked over by the fairies of the land. Folklore has it, that if a bride cuts a sprig and puts it in her bride bouquet, she will have all the luck of the Irish.

The Irish Black-faced sheep are also scattered around the towering hill sides. The only way to bring in the sheep from these craggy hillsides is with a sheepdog. I spent about 45 minutes watching one of these small, sure footed dogs in action with his shepherd. Amazing agility and speed, controlled mostly by different whistle tweets from as far as a quarter of a mile. I thought about Gandaulf for a moment and how he loved the chase.

We had a local lunch at “the most beautiful lookout in all of Ireland in fair weather”, or so the sign said. I had my first lamb stew and Chris had the shepherd pie. The view was indeed spectacular of the bay and the mountainous islands as the fog held light to the peeks. A statue of Mary standing on a serpent stood in the middle of a stone ring looking down on us with outstretched hands and a soft welcoming gaze. I felt blessed once more to be having this adventure.

And I step back in time

Today began our Ireland trip. Our jet lag is finally waining and we are getting down to a new circadian rhythm. Overall we are getting into the groove of travel again after quite a long 6 month hiatus.

We grabbed a taxi into the little town of Blarney, on the southern coast just a few miles north of Cork. The history of Ireland is steeped in powerful lords and many wars. The landscape is dotted with castles and villages surrounding these monolithic towers of rock, most all older than the first settlements in the US. Even the woolen mill was older than my first “historic registry” home in Utah.

I will be the first to admit that I am an ignorant American. Hells sake, I don’t even know how to physically dial a non-US phone number. At least I am not ashamed to ask and our campground host, Rebecca, was a pleasant young woman who was more than eager to educate me. Better to ask than pretend you know something you don’t.

Our visit to the lovely little town of Blarney, was like stepping back in time. The town is based around a castle built in the 1400’s. It remained in the family for centuries. In the 1800’s the Blarney Home was built. The castle is the home of the “blarney stone” given by the witch of the lake to one of the sons who rescued her from the lake. He was afflicted with a stutter and following the witches directions implicitly, he found the stone and kissed it as instructed. His life then changed as he became a fluent speaker and was given “the gift of gab” as it is said to do. Even until this day, the lines to ascend the castle stairs to the top floor where the Blarney Stone is at rest, just to give it a kiss, is at least an hour long.

The gardens surrounding the Blarney Mansion and castle, were in full display. The variety of flora and fauna planted was in full bloom. The magnificent colors were amazing. I didn’t know so many colors existed in nature. Anything from brilliant reds to flesh peach and salmon orange. Purple flowers, buttercup, and wild garlic filled the air with fragrance.

The most harrowing part of the day was the 2.5km walk back to the Caravan Park (campground). The road started out with a sidewalk, but quickly became a narrow road full of blind turns and no way to get off the road if two cars should pass by at once. The sides of the road was 3-4’ high thick growth which included its fair share of stinging nettle, which is normally found in riverbanks at home. By the time I realized what it was, Chris and I had both inadvertently come in contact with its viscous little hairs.

We finally made it back in one piece and toasted our 7 miles of walking in one day. The day ended with showers, laundry and a recap of our day.

Day Two Ireland: Blarney

It’s been a good day except for the 2 hours of driving. The countryside is gorgeous. The famous rock walls are now covered in a thick coat of green.

The roads are narrow and the means to an end if you want to see the small towns and castle/church ruins dotting the landscape.

Our choice of a van, the same size as our old van, was a good one at the time. Our driving skills are good but to combine the small rural roads, driving on the side of the road unfamiliar to us, a right hand drive and a stick shift, and we are like fish out of water.

Ireland!

We made it! It seemed like a long haul. It’s not been a very good one for me so far. I managed to get the stomach bug going around and allowed myself to get dehydrated bad! I guess with the jet lag and brain fog, I didn’t put two and two together. Fever, the runs and three red eye flights don’t work well together.

The van we picked up has been used hard! Coming out of The Turtle, this will take a bit of getting used to. First off, she’s a right hand drive and a stick shift. We drive on the other side of the road than we are used to so everything just seems a bit backwards.

Last night was our first full night sleep in the van. We went to bed, exhausted and exasperated, at 9:30 and didn’t stir until noon. Check out was at noon but no one came around to kick us out. It took a bit to get our bearings and I was trying desperately to convince myself I was well.

The first thing that became apparent was the WiFi we rented doesn’t work. Now we don’t know about the stove or hot water. The WiFi was to be our guidance for point A to point B. There are round-a-bouts everywhere and it’s hard to know ahead of time where to exit out, plus you have to remember to go in to the left, not right as we are used to. We almost pulled out in front of a delivery truck because we naturally look left. Here we turn right, stay left and look both ways.

We ended the day in a pub called Matt the Miller, a quaint little pub on the corner of the block on the waterfront. They have 3 pages dedicated to whiskeys alone. The burger I ordered was delicious and Chris ordered a pizza. A pint of Kilkenny for me and a Guinness for Chris. Live Irish music and the pubs decor just made for a pleasant end to an otherwise stressful day. Leaving the pub, the Kilkenny Castle was lit up and reflecting on the river. Beautiful. Cheers!

Try Not to Panic

Life right now…well it is a whirlwind of activity. Between the scheduled visits with family and friends, planning the nuances of our upcoming travel, and many trial packs, we are just trying to stay ahead of the flurry…trying not to panic.

The first leg of our trip will be spent outside of the Schengen countries to afford us more time experiencing Europe. I keep getting reminded that the last time I was in Europe was almost 40 years ago, and things have changed. I have changed, therefore, my impressions may have as well. I know this as a true fact of observation and learning, but will I actually be able to “see” things differently than what is burned into my brain? See things through a different set of eyes?

Our journey will start with a 2 week, unscripted drive around Ireland. So much myth and history encompasses this little green country. The lush rolling hill, bogs and majestic cliffs, all laid out before us and passing by under the wheels of our rented camper van. https://indiecampers.ie/campervan-hire/dublin/dublin/nomad/offer.

Nomad Camper Van

The van is pretty similar to our old camper van, so we should be pretty at home while exploring the emerald isle. There is so much to see, ancient castles and small quaint hamlets, history written in stone and folk lore. The island namesake itself, is that of an Irish Gaelic Goddess. Because much of Ireland’s myths and folklores were transcribed in early mid-evil times by Christian scribes, many stories are depicting kings, queens, magicians and saints, when in actuality, these figures were originally depicted as gods, goddesses, heroes and healers, brave warriors and warrioress. As in much folklore and creation stories, these deities were often depicted asa living in or coming from The Otherworld.

Neolithic Spires

Aside from myths and lore, the isle also is renowned for fishing and golf. Two sports, I was always told, cannot exist together. The temperate climate and bountiful rain, creates a lush landscape. Ireland’s name itself is also said to mean isle of rivers or flowing water. In either case, the lush golf courses are world class as is the fishing. Ireland experiences seasonal migrations of ocean white trout, salmon and an indigenous population of native brown trout. Today the isle boasts over 300 golf courses and 148 fishable rivers containing salmon, trout and pike. Of course Chris is looking forward to fishing any and all rivers we come across.

We are planning to use this wonderful isle as our jumping off point. To unwind and reconnect with nature and the world outside of our own; to mingle with the people and customs of their homeland; to experience and enjoy a new culture and take-in the beauty surrounding us; and to make this our home for the short time we visit.