Ireland

So tomorrow, I'll be done with stage one of my trip. I'm pretty glad to be moving on but Ireland is one of the coolest places I've been to.

Disreguard the big blue writing. Basically, we started in Tralee and walked through bogs, beaches, farms and on roads to Camp, Anascaul, Dingle, Cloghane, Castlegregory, and then bussed back to Tralee this morning. Over all it was about 60 miles. And with 50 pounds of gear each, it was pretty rough. Dingle was rad. We just happened to be there the day after christmas, which is St. Stephen's day and in Ireland that means lets get trashed on good beer and dance in the streets, so needless to say, we had a good old time. A live band played Irish folk songs all night, it was awesome. Its been pretty easy to find places to stay. There is a lot of livestock here so grassy fields are pretty easy to come buy and the people dont usually mind if you hop their fence and set up camp. The only problems we've come across were wind, and rain. Oh and we were in a field by the beach in Cloghane and a fisherman warned us that we should keep "a listening watch" for a big bull that lives there. But we never saw it so it worked out. Tomorrow we leave Ireland for Germany and Amsterdam for new years.
Cheers,
-Brian

WISHLIST

Tomorrow's christmas. I want a sleeping bag. Where are you?

10 days

Today marks ten days left in America. I have mixed feelings about leaving. On one hand, I know it is going to be unbelievable, we will be seeing things and experiencing the world in a way that the majority of people will never be able. I will come back a well versed student of world culture. But I am scared. I know we will run into problems and the aspect of being stranded or stuck in a country foreign to me is a bit frightening. Brian told me yesterday that in addition to riding motorcycles across Laos, we will be buying horses and riding to Tibet. Apparently horses are cool? I dont know how realistic this prospect is but we will see how it pans. More to come.

Norma Jeanne

There is a small woman in the house accross and to the left of mine. I have only seen her face once. But her shadow is very familiar. I come home from work, sometimes very late and I see her patient sillouette in the window. She never falters, her gaze set intently on the knob of the door. She must be very old, although in the window she does not age a day. Her shadow is as fresh as the day she got it. Some say she does not eat, or sleep. She just waits, slowly breathing, watching the door, day in and out. This is the life of Norma Jeanne.