Tag Archives: Travelynn Tales

California dreaming — back to the USA

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

This is the final installment in this year-long journey, at least for WKTV. Lynn is currently wintering in Mexico and deciding where to go next.

 

After 18 months outside the U.S., it was time for a brief return. Leaving Thailand when my six months of visas were up and with the first draft of my book manuscript completed, I made a sweep through California to renew my passport and, more importantly, to see family and friends. In keeping with my backpacker’s budget — this included house- and pet-sitting, a cobbling together of places to stay. Opportunities arose and disappeared per usual on this journey, more chances for a planner like me to keep practicing letting go.

 

Through an amazing synchronicity, an American woman I met via Facebook — a fellow house and pet sitter — offered up a California cat sitting job she had to turn down due to a prior commitment. My first stop for 10 weeks was set in the city of Sacramento caring for Cinco, a 15-year-old cat. Easy — just feed him, clean out his litter box and keep him alive until his owners come home. That was before I knew about the cockroach invasion or the neighborhood gunfight, but that’s another story.

 

Sacramento is California’s capitol and it’s worth a stroll through the Old Town near the dome to learn a bit about American history — about the gold rush and stage coaches and the Wild Wild West. (It’s still a bit wild.)

 

The highlight for me was seeing my daughters after almost two years on the road (one of the downsides of being a nomad on a limited budget is being far away from loved ones). My Michigan daughter was visiting my Los Angeles daughter, and they took the coastal train up to visit me. It was a much too brief but wonderful reunion, including a hike in the Auburn hills.

 

Sacramento reminded me of what it’s like to live in American suburbs, taking daytime walks in neighborhoods virtually abandoned by people off hiding in cubicles at work, a stark contrast to the streets in places like Thailand that are bustling with people no matter what time of day. Empty yards of manicured grass led me to a lush rose-scented garden surrounding the local library, and grocery stores loaded with all of my favorite (and much-missed) foods. Reverse culture-shock set in — people who spoke English, signs and labels I could read, and driving a car once again — the homeowner’s giant old SUV.

 

Several dear friends came to town — too many to name, and it was such a delight to reconnect after being out of the country for so long. When my friend Beth came from Michigan, we got to check out Lake Tahoe for a couple of days. Tahoe has some of the most stunning scenery in California, in fact in the entire U.S. Take a spin around the whole lake in a day and you’ll see fabulous lookouts.

 

My plan was to end up in Napa, a town I’d lived in for several years, and then a housesitting stint in Redwood City, but those opportunities vanished like coastal fog. It’s a little unnerving not knowing where I’m going next, but when I can stop stressing and let curiosity overtake fear, something interesting always comes up. This time it included a pet sit in a luxury condo in San Francisco and another in an apartment with a view in Tiburon, across the bay. San Francisco is one of my favorite cities, and my lively charge Loki kept me very busy hiking its famously steep hills.

 

Luckily I had a few hours each afternoon between dog walks to explore on my own — places like the famous Fisherman’s Wharf with barking seals, scents of sour dough bread baking and tastes of Ghirardelli chocolate. And then there’s bustling Chinatown, full of colorful shops displaying all manner of scarves, shoes and jewelry.

 

San Francisco is also home to some of California’s best museums — SFMOMA, the De Young and Legion of Honor art museums, and the fascinating Californian Academy of Sciences where you can view the stars in the planetarium, walk through a tunnel of sea creatures and feel what it’s like to be in a building during an earthquake.

 

There’s Haight Ashbury, full of tie-dye, and fashionable Union Square. In San Francisco, even getting around can be fun with sounds of street cars clanging and clacking up and down the rails. Along with a daily dose of that gorgeous red bridge, I felt at home in California once again.

 

Across the Golden Gate lies Sausalito and the tiny town of Tiburon –my next stop, for the care of a small pup and the real boss of the place, a cat. In a one-bedroom apartment high up on a hill, I enjoyed the most spectacular scenes of the bay in exchange for hanging out with Bea and Mowgli. One thing housesitting allows besides free accommodations is a chance to see how it feels to live in an amazing variety of places. And with kitchens, a chance to save money by cooking at “home”. Even though it’s not my own place, I’ve learned to get outside my comfort zone and make home where I hang my hat.

 

Life in Tiburon was slow, filled with dog walks, writing, visits from more friends and deckside dining, both at seaside and on the apartment’s sky-high deck. The views were mesmerizing in the daytime, at sunset and with glittering gold dust scattered across the horizon at night. It was hard to close my eyes at the end of the day as I didn’t want to miss a moment of such beautiful sights.

 

Angel Island State Park is a short ferry ride away, so I was able to hop over for a day hike. It’s not only a lovely place for a nature fix, but it’s also full of history about the Asian immigrant experience. Sometimes called “the Ellis Island of the West”, it was a detention point for immigrants from China, Japan and India, among other countries. You can tour some of the original buildings.

 

Soon enough, my house sits ended and with new passport in hand — good for 10 more years — I booked a Megabus down to L.A. For the budget-minded traveler, avoiding flights running over $200 oneway from San Francisco to Los Angeles, Megabus is a great alternative ($26 to $46, depending on date and time). True, an overnight ride for eight hours on a sold-out double-decker bus isn’t the most comfortable way to travel, but with more time than money, it’s part of this nomad’s life. And you meet the most interesting people! Next stop, a peek at L.A. and a tour of the beaches in SoCal.

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ wanderer whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Expat life – back in Chiang Mai

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to move to another country? To be an expat in a foreign land? For six months I had a sampling of what that’s like in Thailand. It’s easier than you might think.

 

At first it can seem really foreign — different language, even different alphabets, different foods, different religions and different customs. For someone like me, who finds all of these differences fascinating, it’s like living in a dream. People in Thailand are very friendly, polite, welcoming and kind. And in bigger cities or resort towns, many speak some English. As an American, I feel lucky that English has become the current universal language. There are many expats from all over in Chiang Mai, the city where I took up residence and whether German or Korean or Brazilian, all generally communicate in English.

 

First thing to do when arriving is to secure a place to live. There are options for every budget, from shared hostel to small private room to luxury condo or large house. Being in the budget range of travel, I found a place at Mai Mansion, a bright pink building of single, private rooms for the affordable price of 5600 baht — about $156 American dollars a month — plus utilities. Yes, that’s right, you can rent your own furnished place for under $200.

 

If you find your place a little too spare, there are fun, inexpensive places to go for a few items to spruce it up, like the night markets. For under $10 you can buy colored lights, a ceramic vase and fabric, among other things to add some splashes of color.

 

What’s eating like in another country? Delicious! In Thailand, of course, there’s a variety of tasty Thai dishes, including pad Thai and curries. Thais like their food very hot, but they are happy to tone it down for us farangs (foreigners). At small local restaurants you can enjoy dinner for as little as 30 baht, or about $1.

 

If you get homesick for other cuisines, in bigger cities like Chiang Mai you have plenty of options — Mexican, Italian, Indian, American — for a slightly bigger price tag. Even at $6 for dinner, it’s a lot more affordable than eating out in the U.S. or Europe.

 

With a severe mushroom allergy I was concerned, as mushrooms are common in Asia but as soon as I arrived, I asked someone who spoke both languages to please write me a note that told of my allergy, which I simply showed to the servers. No allergy emergencies in six months, I’m happy to report.

 

What about transportation? There are many options there as well. You can hop on a very affordable songtheaw, the little red buses that chug down the roads all over. Or grab a tuk tuk, a sort of cart attached to a motorcycle. Many people rent scooters for around $70 a month, which gives you a lot more freedom or you can rent a bike. And of course, there’s always walking.
What does one do in Thailand once you’re settled in? So many options: take a cooking class or go visit an elephant rescue center (please don’t ride the elephants as it can hurt them, go instead where you can feed and help bathe them). There are beautiful temples everywhere which you can visit, and you can even attend a meditation retreat to explore your spiritual side.

 

If you’re feeling stressed out, for a mere $6 you can experience an hour Thai massage, but I recommend that you splurge on a two-hour coconut oil massage for less than $20. My new friend Pitt does an excellent job, and will leave you feeling like you’re floating.

 

It’s fun to just wander around and see what you might discover, including all the unique flora. You might even get lucky and be there during the flower festival. And speaking of festivals, there are many. In April is Songkran, the Thai New Year, with its crazy water festivities, and in November the stunningly beautiful Loy Kratong lantern festival, where thousands of little boats made of banana leaves are set off on the river, while thousands of paper lanterns are sent floating up in the night sky.

 

Many “digital nomads” go to Chiang Mai for an inexpensive place to live and work, and there are lots of internet cafes and co-working spaces with super wifi connections. And for those who are into shopping of the more modern variety, there are shopping malls as well.

 

In fact, you can get just about anything you want in cities like Chiang Mai, my home base, and certainly everything you need. If you need medical attention, they have topnotch doctors and dentists for a fraction of the cost of care in the U.S. You may just find your prescription for a tenth of the cost of at home. My migraine pills in the States are $40 each by prescription while in Thailand the same brand is $4 over the counter. And I had a great teeth cleaning by the dentist herself for $27.

 

But back to more fun — near Chiang Mai you can head out to a nearby park for a day of lounging in little waterside huts, eating and swimming, or if you’re more daring, head to the Grand Canyon of Chiang Mai for some cliff jumping. There are other trips as well, such as up to visit the hill tribes or on the winding road up to sleepy little hippy town Pai, where you can take a soak in the waterfalls.

 

So much to do, although my main purpose was to work on a book, so I had to hide myself away and try not to get too distracted. It’s easy to make friends in a place like Chiang Mai — whether at the coffee shops or the gym (for $27 a month you can have use of a gym and a pool), the festivals, just walking down the street or at the many meet-up groups.

 

Whether you’re a student taking a break,or a retiree, have been laid off from your job or just need a sabbatical, I highly recommend visiting a foreign country for a period of time, a month or longer. Can’t afford it, you think? Think again. You can housesit or house swap, or couch surf or do like I did and sell everything, though you don’t have to do anything quite so drastic. You can rent out your home, and I bet for the monthly rental income, you’d be able to afford a plane ticket, room and food in Thailand. You can live there pretty easily for $1000 a month (or less if you travel with someone and share accommodations).

 

Work? See if you can take a sabbatical, so your job is waiting for you. Or see if your job can be done remotely — wifi is not hard to find, and neither is your own slice of paradise.

 

Don’t have any savings? Start by keeping track of all your daily expenditures, and I bet you can find a myriad of ways to cut back and stash cash away. Coffee? Lunch out? Cigarettes? Drinks after work? That new pair of shoes when you already have 12 pair in your closet? Speaking of closets, what about cleaning them out, along with your garage, and selling some stuff on eBay? It’s all about priorities. Before you know it you’ll have enough to take off for a month (or maybe a year). In fact, for the same amount that you spend on that one-week cruise or staying at a fancy hotel with a golf course, you can stay for a month in southeast Asia. You may decide not to come home.

 

Concerned about safety? I’ve felt safer in 15 other countries than I do in most places in the U.S., especially as a woman traveling solo. So take off and explore the world! I think you’ll be happy you did.

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ wanderer whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

TraveLynn Tales: a year around the world

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Just the words, “world travel” sound romantic. What’s it like to really chuck it all and travel around the world for a year? After visiting over a dozen countries on a shoestring-budget, I thought I’d do a little visual re-cap of some of the highlights.

 

First stop on my world travel adventure — Australia, including the Great Barrier Reef in Cairns, where I took a leap of faith as well as a leap in the ocean, and later frolicked with rock wallabies, felt the spiritual draw of Uluru, soaked up the sun on Sydney’s beaches and toured the famous opera house. From the capitol, Canberra, to Melbourne to Tasmania, I not only explored all the scenic beauty Australia has to offer, but the beauty and hospitality of the people as well, couch surfing with wonderful souls who opened their homes to me (too many on this journey to name in one blog).

 

Sad to leave the land of Oz, I was at the same time excited to check out the natural beauty of New Zealand’s South Island, from fjords to waterfalls, helicopters and glaciers and swimming with dolphins — to tracks and tramping to wine. It was sensory-overload in every aspect.

 

After all that adventure, it was time to slow down with a 10-day silent meditation retreat in Thailand, focusing on breathing and letting thoughts float by (world travel isn’t all about constantly moving). Other treats lay in store in Thailand as well, like cooking class, night market shopping and even swimming with elephants.

 

From there, a swing through Cambodia to watch the sun rise over Angkor Wat, the largest temple complex in the world and with the help of a generous friend, to buy a tuk tuk for a young man struggling to start his own business.

 

Japan has long been on my list, and exceeded any dreams of what this locale would bring. From the bustle of Tokyo, to a ryokan in cherry blossom-filled mountains near snow monkeys soaking in hot springs — to historic, temple and shrine-filled Kyoto and out to the hush of Arashiyama’s bamboo-forest, Japan was a feast for the senses.

 

As hard as it was leaving Japan, Croatia was calling, with historic cities like Dubrovnik, Split, Zagreb, and Zadar — crystalline waters of National Parks Plitvice and Krka, and scenic islands to hop — Mljet, Korcula, Brac, Hvar, and hundreds more, all set like gems in the vast blue ocean, the colors of which are hard to describe. I even managed to slip in a day trip to Montenegro.

 

Farewell, Croatia meant hello, Slovenia and fairytale Bled, with its island and church and jade-colored lake — and of course, what fairytale would be complete without castle, knights and dancing ladies?

 

Only thoughts of Italy, Venice and gelato, could pry me away from Slovenia. Who can resist singing gondoliers, carnival masks, bridge-stitched canals and Italian wine? Italy also brought the Amalfi coast, Isle of Capri, historic Pompeii, Rome and the Cinque Terra.

 

France included not only couch surfing in Paris and tangoing in front of the Eiffel Tower, but a free private tour on the top of Notre Dame amidst a city full of art and architecture. Loire Valley is filled with castles and I managed to explore several, including Chenonceau, Villandry, Cheverny, and Chambord. Although I didn’t meet a prince, I did get rescued by a fairy godmother, but that’s another story.

 

In the South of France, amidst fields of sunflowers, I sat for a couple of weeks. My first housesit for two little poodles (and a lazy tortoise) gave me use of my own private pool. Spain also lay waiting on my world travels — beautiful Barcelona, infused with the influence of Gaudi, including Parc Guell and Sagrada Familia, and tapas and flamenco rounded out the experience.

 

After months of sun and following summer, it was time to head someplace cool, so I hopped a flight to the emerald isle of Ireland where for a few days in Dublin, I discovered the joys of craic (Irish fun, including music and liquid refreshment) and was even turned temporarily into a leprechaun. Renting a car was the only way to get around on the backroads, so I headed off on the Wild Atlantic Way, through fields of green in every shade, along coast, past grazing sheep, through rainbow villages and castles and Celtic ruins.

 

In time for my second housesit, I flew to Scotland, where first I sampled the magnificent city of Edinburgh, then headed to Fort William to care for a feisty border collie and hike the highlands, while housesitting in a Victorian manse on a hill overlooking a loch.

 

From one dog sit to another to another, I was dropped into Dickens, in a little village called Corsham, where I walked much more slowly with my 15-year-old charge and also fed a visiting peacock named Kevin. A day to cruise through Bath led to four days in lovely London, full of museums, parks and markets.

 

Rounding out my year of world travel was yet another dog sit in Hove in the south of England, for two lively little dachshunds and walks on Brighton’s promenade. All in all, it was an amazing journey — this just scratches the surface.

 

When my year was over, not ready to return to the States, I spent six months in Thailand writing about my adventures. I’m now wintering in Mexico!

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ wanderer whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brighton & Hove, days with the dachshunds

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Brilliant and beautiful Brighton & Hove, on the south coast of England, offer much to enjoy, and I found myself with three weeks to explore while pet sitting for two mischievous dachshunds.

 

Twin cities, of a sort, Hove and Brighton are like bookends, linked by a long seaside promenade. The prom is full of life, action, and beautiful views, where you can take part in numerous activities – the usual bike riding, jogging and dog walking, or step it up a bit with sports like basketball, beach volleyball, and bouncing.

 

If anyone asked if I was living in Brighton, the correct answer, I was told, is “Hove, actually.” They have very distinct personalities. Hove is the “fancier” place, streets lined with elegant townhouses and dining establishments.

 

Brighton is the brash, bohemian enclave, with lanes full of hippie shops and street artists, not to mention the Brighton Pier. Full of flashing lights and spinning rides, it’s been around since the 1800s, only shut down during World War II, as Hitler had plans to invade here.

 

Brighton also boasts the iconic Royal Pavilion, built in the late 1700s as a seaside retreat for George, Prince of Wales. You can tour the domed architectural wonder and learn all about royal liaisons and intrigues.

 

And if you’ve worked up an appetite, there are plenty of eating and drinking establishments to choose from, many with entertaining names as well as interesting offerings for snacks, lunch, tea, or dessert.

 

There are even places for dachshunds to dine!

 

Most of my days were spent walking the dachshunds on the scenic promenade or hiding out with them from the rain at home (I discovered doxies don’t like wet weather!). And in the south of England, there’s plenty of wet weather.

 

If you check event schedules, there are lots of local activities. By accident, I stumbled on an Armistice Day parade, with beating drums and clanging symbols, but not a single gun.

 

Although summer would be a delightful time to visit Brighton and Hove, fall is typically cooler with far fewer tourists, and with a little luck, you may even slip in a warm, sunny day.

 

If shopping is your thing, there are plenty of stores, including books and antiques, steampunk and unmentionables and places to get your hair styled.

 

So for a short holiday getaway, or to house sit with pets for awhile, check out Brighton and Hove on the south coast of England. Bring your raincoat, lots of pounds, and a smile.

 

*As a side note, it turns out Hove is headquarters to Trusted Housesitters, the house and petsitting site I most frequently use.

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50-something-year-old woman whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Lots to love about London

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

With four days between house sits in England, leaving Corsham to head down to Hove, the excitement of London lies in the middle, and what’s not to love about London?

 

Except possibly the price tag, but London doesn’t have to break the bank. True, hotels are off-the-hook expensive, and with no appropriate couch-surfing to be found, I reverted to my old standby, Airbnb. Out of the city center, near the Royal Borough 0f Kensington and Chelsea, I found a room in a townhouse flat with a young couple from Bulgaria and their toddler son, a welcome temporary home.
There’s something special about London, the mood, the atmosphere, the lost-back-in-time feeling. Surrounded by historic buildings, bright red double-decker buses, and those entertaining British accents, there are tons of  treasures to explore, and even though I’ve been here before, there’s much I still missed, like the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and electric lights of Piccadilly Circus.

 

Wander along the river and you’ll see iconic sights like the London eye and Big Ben, the Tower of London, Tower Bridge and Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. Interspersed with the old, you’ll see plenty that’s new, especially cutting-edge architecture, like the famous London Shard.

 

Don’t come expecting sunshine and blue skies, as London is typically gray and foggy, but that just lends to the atmosphere. If rain tumbles down and you seek drier pursuits, there are plenty of options, like theatre. A friend treated me to a ticket to see “Kinky Boots,” a hilarious, inspiring musical.

 

Nearby Covent Garden offers plenty of shopping and dining under cover. Museums abound, and most are free! You can while away hours at the chock-full Victoria and Albert, where Chihuly glass mingles with classic sculpture, and clothing runs the gambit from medieval and renaissance to rainbow psychedelic.

 

Halls and walls are hung with wrought iron and paintings and tapestries and you’ll find everything from furniture, to china, to original costumes from The Lion King. The Tate Modern offers contemporary art for your contemplation while the National Gallery is classic. And Saatchi is just plain out there.

 

My favorite part of London, though, are all the different neighborhoods. Brick Lane is crammed with antique shops and bookstores galore and the best food court in the world! In fact, it includes cuisine from just about everywhere — Cuban, Caribbean, Spanish, Turkish, and even Transylvanian. How in the world does one decide? Ultimately, I opted for a plate full of vegetarian delights from Ethiopia. Don’t forget to save room for dessert!

 

Brick Lane is also like an outdoor art gallery, with an eclectic, creative blend of entertaining graffiti.

 

My most beautiful day in London was spent cruising the Columbia Flower Market, surrounded by scents of thousands of blossoms, crammed between every color and kind of flower you can think of — hydrangeas and pansies, snapdragons, tulips and orchids. It’s a gardener’s dream on steroids! People pack the narrow road, while hawkers call out their wares, “Who likes a big lily?!”

 

As for getting around, it’s easy — everyone of course speaks English. And you’ve several choices of taxi, or bus, or underground tube, or even renting a bicycle, as well as my favorite, by foot — you see so much more when you’re walking.

 

A great way to end your day in London is with a snack and a drink in the oldest pub and don’t forget London rules for safety: Please, mind the gap!

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Jane Austen’s Bath and a look at Lacock

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Historic Bath, England was only a short bus ride away from my house sit in Corsham, so I took a day after my house hosts returned to explore. The main attraction, ancient Roman baths, are accessible via self-tour with an informative audio guide, and definitely worth a visit.

 

Wandering through the Roman Temple, Bath House and Sacred Spring — surrounded by the smell of sulphur — hot water bubbled up in green pools, as it did in ancient times, from rain falling on nearby hills. It filters down through layers of limestone to be heated by geothermal energy, then pressure pushes it to the surface.

 

The first shrine on the site was Celtic, dedicated to the goddess Sulis (Minerva to the Romans), and signs tell of the later history of the Roman occupation of Britain. Glass cases house artifacts that were thrown into the pools as offerings to the Goddess, including colorful gemstones and over 12,000 coins.

 

Also thrown into the pools were curse tablets — messages written to the Goddess on pewter or lead, some related to thefts of clothing while the owner was occupied in the baths. The temple pediment and Gorgon’s head, originally supported by four large columns, now hang on a wall, part of this impressive collection of antiquities, including scores of sculptures, mosaics and friezes.

 

Uphill from the Baths, the Royal Crescent sweeps the scene in a great curve of Georgian architecture. Built in the 1700s, the golden facade connects thirty terraced houses. Some are still townhouses, some are split into flats, part forms a museum and in the center is the elegant Royal Crescent Hotel.

 

If you’re a Jane Austen fan, you can check out a museum dedicated to her and her work — she lived in Bath from her father’s retirement in 1801 until his death five years later. Bath is mentioned in all of her novels. You can even dress up in costume for a virtual trip back in time.

 

Bath is a lovely town in and of itself, just to wander around. Stone streets lead to bookstores, cafes, and galleries and scenic spots on the river to linger.

 

Also near Corsham is the village of Lacock, another step back in time. Lacock Abbey was a home for nuns, until somebody bought it for private use. The cloisters remain untouched, a square of vaulted hallways surrounding a grassy courtyard, with several rooms off to the sides where scenes from Harry Potter were filmed. You can stand where Severus Snape held his potions classes.

 

Nuns were privileged at the time as they were literate and expected to study the Bible along with other religious texts. Not many people in medieval times could read, and books were very expensive as they were all handwritten. One book could be as costly as a farm.

 

Winding my way upstairs, I toured elaborately decorated rooms full of fancy furnishings, where the family lived after the nuns were forced to leave. Henry Talbot, the private owner, was one of the fathers of modern photography, along with Louis Daguerre.

 

Out back stands the old brewery, where beer was brewed because it was safer to drink than water.

 

The village itself is a medieval town, full of peaked-roof houses with criss-crossing beams and several small shops, and I was pulled — not unwillingly — into the chocolatier by the scent of rich, sweet cocoa. I’ve avoided much shopping on my travels, but the dark-chocolate butter honeycomb got me.

 

Fall was in the air, crisp and cool, calling colors to flame the trees. Both Bath and Lacock are worth a look, if you’re ever in merry old England.

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Quaint Corsham – Dropped into Dickens

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

What could be a more authentic English experience than living in a home on High Street in the quaint village of Corsham?

 

Luck was with me when I landed this housesit for sweet William, a 15-year-old pup. His masters, Mark and Andy were headed off on holiday and entrusted their furry friend to my care, along with their beautiful home. Will even made happy noises when I scratched behind his floppy ears and rubbed his tummy.

 

Corsham is a picturesque little town, like something straight out of Dickens, with old slate-roofed buildings, ancient spired churches and golden sandstone walls that glow in the afternoon light.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind feeding the birds and the fish, that’d be great,” Andy told me. “And we do have one other pet,” Mark added.

 

Uh oh, what’s this, I wondered.

 

“A peacock called Kevin sometimes visits the garden, if you could just give him a few mealworms…”

 

Who would have guessed I’d have my own pet peacock?

 

Their home is light and airy, and I had a lovely room with my own bath, where a fluffy white robe hung waiting. Books and DVDs lined the walls in the solarium.

 

“Help yourself and enjoy,” they told me, and showed me how to set the surround-sound.

 

Will got three walks a day, though due to his age, they were fairly short ones. A huge park sprawls out behind the house, a five-minute walk away, with a lake full of quacking ducks tucked into the corner. Will showed me his favorite spots.

 

We’d go out rain or shine and this being England, there’s more drizzle than not. But the many misty mornings were magical. With sheep now out of the pasture, Will was allowed to go off lead and often met up with his friends.

 

He may be mostly deaf, but there’s nothing wrong with Will’s nose, or his navigation. He’d approach friendly people in the park, who happened to have treats stashed in their pockets, and he invariably led me to the pet shop to meet his best saleslady pal.

 

Living in Corsham is the best of both worlds — a beautiful garden and park, like being out in the country with most everything you need just out the front door. High Street is only a few blocks long but crammed with small shops — hair salons, a health food store, two opticians, cafes and restaurants, a bakery, a co-op for groceries, a butcher, a pharmacy, pubs and banks and a bookstore and best of all, on Tuesdays, the market stalls set up.

 

Will and I each had our favorite booths.

 

At night, Will got his third walk. He’d lead the way, under glowing streetlights and a full October moon. The street was quiet, shop window-shades pulled. Turning down a dark alley towards the park, I’d switch on the torch (what the Brits call a flashlight). I’d glance around at tall, gnarly trees, branches creaking like arthritic arms; a chill wind whispered through the leaves. We didn’t enter the park but turned just before, down a path that led to a church with a headstone-filled graveyard, tall rounded markers like the ones in scary movies. We were both always happy to get home to our soft, warm beds.

 

We varied our walks sometimes. The churches and graveyards were much less spooky in the daytime.

 

One day I decided to take a tour of Corsham Court, the local manor and gardens. “No pictures allowed inside,” I was told as I paid for my ticket, a frustration for any photographer, but I focused on the positive side — I could enjoy just looking for a change, without having to capture every detail with a lens.

 

With a kitchen to cook in, I ate meals at home, another great reason to housesit. It saved a bundle not dining out, and Will and Kevin made nice dinner companions, when they weren’t both staring at me with “Can I have a bite?” eyes.

 

This Dickensian tale in Corsham has a very happy ending, with Mark, Andy and William reunited, and I felt like I made three new friends.

 

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Eclectic Edinburgh

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

How do you know when you’ve landed in Scotland? The men are in skirts, of course! Kilts, to be more accurate.

 

Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland, was my first stop, with its beautiful medieval Old Town and elegant Royal Mile. The cobblestone streets are lined with shops selling everything in plaid — kilts, scarves, purses, postcards, mugs and key rings, as well as other Scottish paraphernalia.

 

The Royal Mile is crowned at the top with Edinburgh Castle, protecting Scotland’s crown jewels and Stone of Destiny, surrounded by a sweeping view of the city, and anchored at the bottom by Holyrood Palace.

 

In between are the Closes, or Wynds — narrow lanes and alleyways where residents used to live. They were named after the most prominent citizens or businesses, and it was highly unusual for one to be named after a woman. Mary King’s Close is underground, the city was built up over it, and it’s open to the public for tours, if you dare — urban legends tell of hauntings from plague victims and things that go bump in the night. It’s an eerie but fun way to learn of some of Edinburgh’s history.

 

image-175-1024x768Musicians play their bagpipes on the streets, haunting music swirling amongst the beautiful old buildings, and neighborhoods like Grassmarket house hostels and kilt makers, bookstores and gift shops plus plenty of pubs, many with colorful histories. Have no fear if you’re a foodie, there are plenty of places to eat as well as drink.

 

It was such a lovely day, I decided to climb Arthur’s Seat, a nearby extinct volcano with incredible views from the top. “It’s not as hard as it looks,” people told me. It appeared daunting, but I gave it a go. I counted around 900 uneven stone steps, and when the steps ended, there was a dirt path, then it was pretty much rock climbing. I saw moms with little kids, and people in their 70s, so I figured I should be able to do it too. Happily, I had my hiking boots on.

 

I thought I was at the top, only to find another steeper bit to climb. But I made it — 360 degree views, with all of Edinburgh as well as the sea spread below me. The crystal clear day was perfectly still.

 

“It’s usually windy up here,” a woman told me, “you’re lucky.” Yes, I am.

 

image-227-1024x768There’s so much to do in Edinburgh, but of course Scotland is known for its whisky, so why not check out the Whisky Experience? You’re sent off on a Disney-like ride in a barrel where a “ghost” hologram tells you about the three ingredients of whisky — water, malted barley and yeast, and how it’s fermented and distilled and aged in barrels, much like wine. We got to scratch and sniff a card that showed the scents of the four different Scottish whiskey regions — Lowlands, Highlands, Speyside and Islay, which correspond to the flavors of citrus, vanilla, banana and smoke. Then the best part, taste-testing! Plus there’s a sweep through the world’s largest whisky collection, with more than 3,600 bottles.

 

The National Gallery, with free admission, is full of religious, allegorical and impressionist paintings or if you’re more into writing than art, Edinburgh is known for it’s fair share of authors, including  Robert Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson and Sir Walter Scott, and you can learn about them in the Writer’s Museum.

 

Or you can even go on a literary pub crawl and combine the spirit of history with spirits of a more liquid nature. Your hosts, actors in character, will lead you on an informative romp through several lively night spots.

 

image-197-1024x768More appropriate for the younger set — you can stop for a coffee or cocoa at the place where J.K. Rowling penned much of her first Harry Potter book.

 

As an alternative to expensive hotels and preferring a more local experience, I’d booked an Air B&B with a lovely couple a short bus ride out of the city in an area called Portobello, where I had the best of both worlds — close to the city center, but a block from the beach, and Scotland was experiencing some unseasonably warm early fall weather.

 

What do you do when your hosts invite you to a real Scottish meal of Haggis and you’ve discovered on a tea towel in town what’s in it? You suck it up and try it, of course, and I have to say, it was really quite tasty, along with the neeps (mashed turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes), although I tried not to think of the ingredients.

 

One day my host wasn’t busy and accompanied me for an afternoon. She’d packed a picnic, which we shared on a bench in a park overlooking the city, then walked through town to the botanic gardens to view an art exhibit and strolled towards home along Leith canal, the clouds and blue sky reflected in the water, with ducks and swans gliding by, a lovely last day in historic, eclectic Edinburgh.

 

Lest you be disappointed, having perhaps heard of incessant Edinburgh drizzle, I did manage to experience one day of gray, gloomy skies and damp weather, so I’ll leave you with this, a perhaps more common view of this fabulous historic city.

 

image-218-1024x768About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

House-sitting in the Highlands with Hamish

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Castles in the sky, or at least close — my house sit in Fort William, in the Highlands of Scotland, came in the form of a Victorian manse, complete with a lively companion.

 

The Highlands have long been high on my list, and I had two weeks to enjoy the fall with free accommodations in exchange for keeping an eye on this lovely home and entertaining my new furry friend, Hamish. Little did I know that he had 100 times my energy and would keep me on my toes about 14 hours a day. A Border Collie blend, Hamish loves to chase balls, from the crack of dawn (over 50 throws before breakfast) until late at night, with enough zest to knock the stuffing out of both the balls and me.

 

11Luckily, there was a jacuzzi with a view for some recuperation! The hot water and jets felt heavenly on my sore muscles — both throwing arms as well as legs from hiking.

 

When he was not chasing balls, Hamish loved to show me all of the surrounding hikes. The Scottish Highlands are rugged and gorgeous on both sunny and rainy days, and if you’re lucky like I was, you may get both at once, and end up with a rainbow.

 

But first, before going exploring I had to learn how to drive. True, I’d been driving since I was 16, so with decades of experience you wouldn’t think of it as a problem. But upon my arrival, I learned that all of our dog walks — twice a day — started well beyond walking distance. Hamish isn’t comfortable walking in town; he was recently re-homed and has a few “issues,” such as fear of thunder and cars, and a fondness for chasing sheep.

 

“You have use of our car to take him on his walks,” the homeowners told me, and showed me their big SUV, with, oh God help me, a stick shift. I have to say, this was the most terrifying time on my entire around the world trip — a stick shift, which I haven’t driven in years in a big SUV, the owner’s pride and joy, on many a steep hill on the left side of the road with double lane roundabouts. My heart pounded and I broke out in a sweat. I fessed up to my lack of skills, but they were kind and took me out in the countryside for some lessons.

 

27Once I had the hang of it, I appreciated the luxury of such a nice car with navigation that gave me verbal directions, since Hamish wasn’t much help in that department. We climbed through woods by rushing waterfalls in Glen Nevis over lush moss, past fields of heather and wildflowers. We crossed rushing rivers, and hiked partway up Ben Nevis, the highest peak in the British Isles. Hamish even knows how to climb over stiles, smart dog.

 

And speaking of smart, Hamish also knows how to ride the ski resort lift; he showed me how to board the gondola for drop-dead gorgeous views. His owners were kind enough to buy me a pass so we could go hiking on top, one of our favorite spots.

 

If you’re a Harry Potter fan, you’d appreciate the hike near Glenfinnan, up to see the bridge where Harry’s train took him to Hogwarts. We even timed it right to see the old steam train, its whistle blowing as it chugged by below us. And there was lunch in an old parked dining car, where the service was up to Hamish’s standards — they brought him a bowl of water and treated him like an honored guest. Many movies have been filmed in or around Fort William, including scenes from Braveheart.

 

If you’re more of a beach person than mountain, you’ll still enjoy heading to the Highlands. A short but scenic drive will take you to the shore and one of Hamish’s favorite places. He’s not afraid of cold water and lunged into the sea to chase ball after ball, splashing spray up into his sand-covered muzzle.

17

Warm, sunny days alternated with cold rain, but still we hiked twice a day and discovered that we didn’t melt. With a rain jacket for me, and fur coat for Hamish, we shook off the drops and enjoyed the peace and solitude of being the only ones out. Fort William is the start/finish of both the West Highland Way and the Great Glen Way, if you’re into long-distance walking or cycling.

 

The quaint town of Fort William has plenty of pubs and if you’re a hiker, plenty of shopping with no shortage of outfitters. Warm, cosy coffeehouses offer shelter, where I could take a short break from my charge — the house was just up the hill, so I could also take a rest from driving.

 

They say in the Highlands the midges are worse than mosquitoes, but I didn’t have a chance to find out — apparently in September, I had just missed midge season, barely by a smidge.

 

The house on the hill had magnificent views, overlooking Loch Linnhe and Fort William. With a turret and rooftop garden, sunken tub inside and jacuzzi out back, a fireplace with lots of wood ready to keep me warm, a library of DVDs, a wine cellar and whiskey cupboard (with permission to sample) and a grand kitchen in which to cook my stew, I was a pretty happy camper. Yes, I was kept on my toes as Hamish isn’t one to rest, but house-sitting in the Highlands was a heavenly haven, and I wouldn’t hesitate to go back.

 

32About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Dawdling around Dingle

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

This time I got lucky on a farm (at least in terms of accommodations). I was a little leery after my other nightmare stay on a dairy farm, but Murphy’s Farmhouse, my B&B for the night near Castlemaine, was delightful. It’s a lovely place, perfectly situated at the start of the ring around Dingle, and they had a single room available which is something you find quite often in Europe that I rarely find in the US. As a solo traveler, single rooms are much appreciated.

 

It was a day of beauty overload. From the start — after a very tasty scrambled egg and salmon breakfast — my day was filled with stunning scenery for nine hours.

 

4First stop out on the Dingle Peninsula was at Inch Beach, which should be more aptly named Mile Beach. The sand is so hard-packed you can drive on it, although I walked across a wet shimmering sea bed so smooth it reflected the clouds and sky and you couldn’t tell whether you were standing on earth or in the air.

 

An old woman walked her little dog and a surfer carrying his board made a dark silhouette against the sea.

 

Surfing schools operated out of a couple of trailers and although a very small part of me thought how cool it would be to try surfing in Ireland, the bigger part of me said OMG that must be friggin’ cold! I didn’t want to leave but there was a whole big peninsula to explore.

 

The road was lined with huge banks of bright-orange flowers as well as many scenic viewpoints, so going was slow for a shutterbug like me. The winding pavement periodically narrowed down to one lane with cliffs of rock on one side and low stone walls barely providing protection from sheer drop-offs on the other, some of it pretty hair-raising.

 

9I followed a series of even smaller roads to a “castle” but it turned out to be more ruin than fortress. Patchwork quilts of green fields stitched the landscape together, and then the town of Dingle appeared, all rainbow-colored shops of Celtic souvenirs, jewelry, sweaters, t-shirts and lots of pubs and restaurants.

 

It’s a great town to wander and I stumbled on a little artisan cheese shop that had a sign saying they make sandwiches, so I decided to purchase a picnic lunch. I ordered an Irish Brie, tomato, olive tapenade and artichoke heart sandwich, and added a piece of artisan chocolate with a creamy toffee center for dessert.

 

But then on my way to the car, I got sucked into the Murphy’s all-natural ice cream shop and ate a sea salt dark chocolate and honeycomb caramel cone BEFORE my lunch, as an appetizer.

 

As I drove off along the winding coast, sun and gray skies took turns following me until I came to a fantastic lookout across from the Beehive Huts (some ancient stone houses). A large seagull sat on a fence post right in front of my car hoping, I’m sure, for a handout. So I had the birds and the bees, and a deep blue sea view while I ate my very tasty picnic.

 

Then I hiked up to the Beehive Huts to check them out and to use the most scenic outhouse on my trip, which also had an interesting sign.

 

12The sun shone brightly here, the sky cerulean blue, but by the time I got to the next scenic turnout, it was gray skies and moody waters, with people swimming and body surfing the rough waves.

 

And, of course, by the next scenic turnout, the sun was shining again and it was one of the most beautiful vistas I’ve seen in Ireland, all craggy shores with a foaming inlet, waves crashing against rocks, and green grassy slopes sliding down to the cliffs.

 

The road heads around the loop at the end of Dingle, then I crept up over the Conner pass, where luckily for me it wasn’t raining. Others told me when they’d crossed it was so misty and gray you couldn’t see a thing but when I reached the top, I could see out to the coast as well as a beautiful waterfall in full force.

 

Heading back, I ran into a sheep jam — a farmer had blocked the road with a truck full of sheep that were running out of the back end. He apologized, but I just grinned — it was fun to watch, especially when the last one wouldn’t come out and they banged on the truck; it was like trying to shake loose the last jelly bean in a jar.

 

Later that night after hours of driving around the whole peninsula, I stopped in a pub to hear a little music, where a gifted young Irish girl sang and played the flute, accompanied by an equally talented young guy on guitar.

 

Dingle is definitely a good place to dawdle for fine views, great food and musical entertainment, another worthwhile stretch of the Wild Atlantic Way.

 

17About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

 

 

Climbing the Cliffs of Moher

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

The famous Cliffs of Moher are one of the most visited tourist sites in Ireland, with almost a million visitors a year.

 

After taking the car ferry over the channel from Troger — and before driving to the Cliffs of Moher — I headed for Loophead to check out the lighthouse and walk the loop around the peninsula head. What breathtaking cliffside views! The drive on the peninsula is on some of those quintessential Irish roads — two-way streets, only really wide enough for one car, with grass growing right up out of the asphalt in the middle — with quaint cottages to stop for scones, jam and clotted cream with tea along the way.

 

When I first pulled into the parking lot at the Cliffs of Moher and saw the hordes of tourists and tour buses, I almost left. But as long as I was there, I decided to check it out. It was late in the day and there were more people going than coming. Hiking up to the cliffs, I realized it’s part of a long-distance walk, not just a place to peek over the edge and leave. You can do however much of it you want, up to the whole town-to-town trail that takes about 10 hours.

9

I spent about three hours walking along the cliff edge — the scenery was spectacular! It was gray and gloomy but with great visibility; you could see the Aran Islands in the distance and just a small bit of sun peeked through all of the clouds, creating a bright white spotlight far out on the ocean. It wasn’t the best light for photography — very flat — but I photographed anyway. It wasn’t wind, and my fleece and rain jacket kept me warm, and warning signs helped keep me safe.

 

The path meanders high up on the cliff’s edge, muddy rocky trails between sea and fields of cows. It can be a dangerous place, intentionally or not, and there is a marker in memory of those who never left.

 

The Cliffs of Moher are made up mostly of shale and sandstone, and there are more than 20 species of birds living there, including Atlantic puffins and razorbills. An eco-friendly visitors’ center built into the hill provides interactive exhibits giving lots of information about the geology, flora, fauna and history of the area, and there’s a tower you can visit as well.

 

Even on a gloomy day, take time to hike the Cliffs of Moher. Just watch your step!

 

17About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

The beautiful, barren Burren

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

What in the world is the Burren? I’d read an article about it on my flight, but it looked pretty rugged and stark so I wasn’t sure I’d like it. Turns out it’s a magical place (a description I use a lot in Ireland). The Burren is a region in County Clare and means “great rock.” It covers about 250 square kilometers, and the crisscrossing cracks in the limestone are called “grikes.”

 

I headed first to the nearby seaside town of Doolin. The sun was shining — an unusual state of the sky — which made a trip to the shore even more enticing. Doolin is an adorable little town with the usual brightly colored shops and pubs. I popped into O’Conner’s for lunch and ordered their seafood chowder, rich and creamy, served with brown bread and butter, and poked around in a few of the shops (there are only a half a dozen). My favorite, of course, was the tiny used bookstore.

 

16Then I headed down to the pier, for what I thought was a 10-minute visit for a photo of the ferries, until I discovered a whole other world — strips of limestone rock, pocked with holes holding puddles and daisies. These long striations go on for miles and miles. You can climb on them and though rugged, with hiking boots they weren’t hard to navigate.

 

Past the stone fence, I climbed on rocks studded with white and yellow daisies, along a deep ultramarine sea, under a cerulean sky filled with billowing white clouds. I was entranced. I hiked a bit, plunked down, and then didn’t move for an hour, watching the sea splash against the rocks in a cut-out in the cliffs, and contemplated life.

 

A man walked by, whistling, which reminded me of my grandfather who used to whistle. It was a happy sound and I looked up as he passed. He peeled off his clothes down to a speedo and donned a bathing cap. Was he really going to swim in those frigid roiling waters? He did. “Likely a bit cold,” another man commented passing by. I agreed, as I sat bundled up in my fleece and rain jacket.

 

8After climbing over big boulders, I ended up on a ledge, high above the water, which would normally make my knees wobble, but for some reason I felt okay, maybe because there was sun and no wind or because the rocks were rough and flat, so I felt fairly stable in my boots. The swimmer appeared far below, out in the water, taking huge strokes as he navigated without apparent effort through the sea.

 

Big gray clouds moved in, motivating me to get up and  climb my way back to the parking lot, past signs warning of things not to do and I reached my car just as the first raindrops hit.

 

Taking the scenic route along the shore, I saw lots more of the starkly beautiful Burren. Rain and sun took turns, and I stopped for another walk, not quite sure why walking on rocks was so much fun, almost kind of spiritual. The road wound along the coast and I stopped to pet some ponies in a perfect pasture with a million-dollar view, and fed one my apple.

 

The area is known for its music, so after hours of fresh air and exercise, I spent a bit of the evening back in Doolin, listening to the weaving of accordion, flute and fiddle, sipping an Irish beer, a fitting end to a day on the barren Burren.

 

13About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

 

The Witch of Kilkenny, Ireland

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By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

I went for the arts in Kilkenny, and instead I found a witch!

 

It’s an hour and a half drive from Dublin south to Kilkenny, a medieval town, with a castle built in 1195. Picking up my rental car in Dublin, I was a bit nervous, since driving is on the left side of the road here but it was fine. After all, I’d had three weeks of practice in New Zealand, although that was almost seven months ago now. I headed straight to the tourist office and spent about two hours there, as they tried to help me find rooms for the next three nights — it appeared there were none left anywhere near the places I wanted to go.

 

People had told me not to worry about booking ahead at this time of the year — late August — as the kids are headed back to school, but they were off by a week. They finally found me some rooms although they were definitely over my budget. Just a reminder to double-check the area you’re traveling to for special circumstances. Sometimes it’s beneficial to just arrive at a place, as a lot of the nice, smaller places don’t use booking sites, and are also willing to bargain on price. On the other hand, if it’s a busy time, without booking ahead, you might find yourself sleeping on the proverbial park bench.

 

The tour office lady asked if I wanted to join the walking tour that was about to start. Sure! It’s a great way to get an overview of a town. We saw Butter Alley, where they used to sell butter in medieval times; the Black Abby, which dates back to the 13th century; and Smithwick’s brewery building, where they no longer brew beer (that’s moved to Dublin) but you can pay a chunk of change to stop in their visitor’s center to shop for merchandise if you choose (I chose not to).

 

Kilkenny is known as an arts and crafts town, and includes the Medieval Mile, with many shops lining its winding lanes along the River Nore. I just missed the annual arts fair, which was probably just as well, since accommodations were hard enough to come by post-festival.

 

12You can tour the castle for a fee, or just have a wander around the grounds for free. With notoriously gray skies and many buildings made of gray stone, the Irish find other ways to brighten their cities including flowers, graffiti, paint and lights. Kilkenny is not a town that’s too worried about safety — check out the security system on their kegs…

 

And about that witch…

 

In the middle of town, there is a restaurant called Kyteler’s, which was once a stone house owned by a woman whose four husbands all died under mysterious circumstances. She was tried and convicted as a witch, but she was rich (from her four husbands), and her wealthy friends helped her escape to England. Her maid was not so fortunate, and the punishment was carried out on her — she was whipped through the streets and burned at the stake, supposedly the first in Europe. Quite a sad tale.

 

The establishment is supposedly haunted and there are photos someone took hanging on the wall that show a mysterious shadow climbing up the stairs. There is also a curious story of an artist and an author related to the Kyteler’s witch tale (see The Spooky Story below).

 

Haunted or not, it is a spooky place but in a fun way, and both my tour guide and my B&B host said to go back there for dinner, for good food and free music after 6. I followed their advice and dined on traditional Irish stew — a hearty bowl full of meat, potatoes and carrots and after, enjoyed a lively room full of music and laughter.

 

My B&B Mena House, was a nice, big old house with lots of rooms, walking distance to town. I ended up talking to Catherine, the proprietress, for quite a while. She was friendly and funny and said she’d love to do what I’m doing — travel the world alone — but wouldn’t dare.

 

19

“You’re very brave,” she told me. I keep hearing that and at first didn’t think it was true as I find traveling fun and exhilarating, not scary. But the more people I meet around the world, the more I see how everyone has dreams, and most don’t follow them out of various fears.

 

I’m not sure doing this makes me brave, but I do feel fortunate, for my many misfortunes, like divorce, losing my job and my home, that led me to make this journey. To me, the brave ones are those who quit their good-paying jobs in order to follow their dreams.

 

Leaving Kilkenny, I made a brief stop at The Rock of Cashel, which local mythology says originated in a mountain called the Devil’s Bit, when St. Patrick banished Satan from a cave, resulting in the Rock landing here. I spent a couple of hours exploring the ruins of the cathedral, which was built between 1235 and 1270, and its graveyard with spectacular views of the surrounding countryside.

 

It was especially nice when I bypassed a giant tour group that was listening outside to their guide while I got to slip into the tiny chapel, all dark and damp, completely alone. And also when I headed out, to the strains of Celtic music as three young guys played their hearts out.

 

Ireland is full of historic sites scattered throughout the country, so a road trip is an ideal way to see it, as you can stop at will wherever you fancy. I was about to spend the next two and a half weeks doing just that, much of it along the famous Wild Atlantic Way.

 

lynn

About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way

3-bottom, Citizen Journalism, Entertainment, Travel, , , ,

26

 

By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

The Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland is the longest defined coastal touring route in the world. Ireland isn’t that big you might think, but drive around the perimeter with all of those coves and inlets and you’ll be surprised how many kilometers you clock. I knew I wouldn’t have time to cover the whole route, so I started in the south and then headed up the west coast to see some of the most majestic parts for as long as my time held out before my upcoming house sit in Scotland.

 

From the Rock of Cashel, I drove south to Cobh (pronounced Cove), where I visited the Titanic Experience. Yes, it’s a bit of a tourist trap but interesting all the same. You are given a ticket with the name of a passenger on it and don’t know if you survive until the end of the tour. I was Ellen Corr, 17 years old and I did survive.

 

We saw the remains of an old dock where passengers left on tenders to take them out to the ill-fated ship — Cobh was the last stop to pick up passengers before the Titanic struck an iceberg. Artifacts on display include a suitcase, dishes, a chair and personal items, and there’s a video showing the underwater exploration when the Titanic was first found at the bottom of the sea. You can walk through recreations of ship cabins, both steerage and first class. Even the steerage had running water and electricity, something most people didn’t have in their homes.

 

Cobh is also a landmark for the Lusitania tragedy, a passenger liner torpedoed and sunk by a German U-boat off the head of  nearby Kinsale. Something about this place and sinking ships…

 

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From there it’s onward to the fishing town of Kinsale, a very pretty village, and I caught view of what would become a familiar sight in Ireland — brightly colored buildings in rainbow hues. Kinsale isn’t very big — just a few streets of shops — and I wandered around taking photos, peeking in windows at the usual souvenirs. The cool thing is that there are three bookstores in this one little town. Looks like there may be some readers around. The weather alternated between sunny with blue sky and fluffy clouds, and gray sky with dark rain clouds, changing momentarily — another attribute of Ireland I would see repeatedly, especially along the Wild Atlantic Way.

 

I popped into the “castle,” an old toll building-turned-French-prison, which is also the wine museum — the real reason I wanted to go in. Today was a once-a-month free day, and I learned a few things, like they didn’t and don’t really make much wine in Ireland, they just imported (and smuggled) it.

 

After a couple of leisurely hours, I drove out onto the point under moody skies on my way to Clonakilty, another little port town. This one is also full of multi-colored houses, but because the sun was no longer evident, it wasn’t quite as bright. It’s also lined with gift and antique shops and is apparently a bit of a foodie town — there are numerous restaurants, pubs and wine bars, and I enjoyed a lovely farm-to-table dinner.

 

11Unfortunately, I didn’t have such good luck with my B&B, which was not the most pleasant experience. You win some and you lose some. It was a last resort of efforts by the tourist board ladies in Kilkenny, the only place they found open for four towns in the area as it’s a Saturday night in what apparently is still high season. I wondered when I heard the price, as all the others have been much lower.

 

But this one purported to be a luxury B&B, with views of a lake, gourmet breakfast,and food on arrival. I don’t need nor can I afford that kind of luxury on this trip but since it was the only place available, I thought I’d bite the bullet and enjoy it.

 

Enjoy isn’t the word I would use to describe it, more like endure. The place is out in the middle of nowhere on a dairy farm, which smells like cows — lots of very smelly cows — and inside the house there’s a peculiar odor as well. The house is old and faded, with worn carpets and dated furniture and no internet or phone signal.

 

My teeny, tiny bathroom had a half-empty, sample-size shampoo bottle as its only amenity, not quite fitting the description of “luxury B&B with all the extras.” My host, an older lady said, “I hope you won’t be cold.” It turns out here’s no heat. She reluctantly told me there’s an electric blanket but warned me at least three times to turn it off before I went to sleep, which meant waking up freezing and turning it back on, staying awake until it heated up again and then turning it off before going back to sleep — and repeating this procedure multiple times.

 

The room was moldy, and my nose and throat plugged up. She offered me tea on arrival but rather reluctantly, and when I said that would be lovely, she seemed disappointed that I’d accepted. But she made it and served it with a dried-out scone and sat and chatted with me; it appeared more out of obligation than desire.

23

I’d gotten terribly lost following her directions (but not lost enough). As it grew dark, I finally called her but the line was busy and a recording said it was letting her know she had another call, though she didn’t take it. Later she mentioned she didn’t pick up because she was on the phone gabbing with her cousin.

 

I never would have booked this place but was in a bind. Goes to show I need to follow my own advice and plan ahead. I write all of this not to complain but to forewarn you that sometimes what you see online or in brochures is not what you get. It is also perfectly acceptable to ask to see a room when you arrive and if it’s sub-par, to not take it. Fortunately, this would prove to be my only really bad accommodation experience in Ireland.

 

The next day made up for it. I drove all the way to Kenmare, from 10 am until 6 pm, continuing on a very scenic Wild Atlantic Way, stopping first at the Drombeg stone circle. I walked all around it and inside of it, and after having read the book Outlander recently, I waited to see if I’d get transported back in time — but instead just got wet feet as the ground was soggy and spongy, like a bog. Luckily, I had my wool hiking socks and boots in the car to change into.

 

Driving through Unionhall, a teeny tiny burg on a river, I stopped on the bridge to take some of the most beautiful, breathtaking panoramas of my trip — a sky full of clouds reflected in the water, along with a string of colorful buildings. And I stopped for a few minutes in the tiny town of Castletownsend, which Brian, my B&B host in Dublin had said is his favorite. It’s another colorful town, on a bay with a castle-turned-hotel on the shore and boats moored out on the water. Ireland is every bit as picturesque as I’d imagined.

 

At a church restaurant in Skibbereen, I stopped for lunch. It’s a beautiful building and I had a little table upstairs facing a large, stained-glass window. I couldn’t get their wifi or my data to work and I was trying to book a place to stay that evening, so the very sweet waitress gave me her phone to use — just looked up a booking last-minute site and handed over her phone, leaving it with me for the whole time I was dining. How nice is that? It cut out after a little while before I could book something, so after my disaster last night I asked the Universe to please guide me to a nice scenic place to stay that’s affordable in Kenmare, which is exactly what happened.

30

But first, after driving for quite a while on winding roads along the ocean past a beach full of surfers (in Ireland?), along the Wild Atlantic Way, I reached the Beara Peninsula and drove the whole loop, about three hours.

 

Once I got to Beara, the sun came out, the sky bloomed blue, a paler version of the sea, and it was so rugged and beautiful, I took my time, stopping at scenic spots along the way to take pictures and just admire the beauty of the world.

 

A rainbow of flowers blossomed everywhere — red, yellow, orange (lots of orange), blue, pink, purple, white — with mountains on one side and the sea on the other. I passed wayward cows and wandering sheep, polka-dotted with blue spots, others with pink.

 

And then, I reached Kenmare. I’d heard from one old man that it was his favorite town, but I’d heard from others that it’s expensive, so let’s see what the Universe has in store, I thought, figuring that if I couldn’t find anything affordable there, I’d head on up the road to Kilarny, which is more commercial but has more accommodations.

 

But my prayers were answered. I pulled into the first B&B I saw with a vacancy sign out front, but they didn’t have availability for a single room for three nights. The man got his wife, who told me she knew a woman who had a single available and it would be the best price in Kenmare. She even called the woman and told her she had a nice single lady looking for a room.

 

36“The tour office told you right to just show up instead of booking ahead,” she told me. “You get a much better price that way as you can bargain.” That’s if you can find an open room and if it’s the last room, that can backfire, like it did for me with the cow-lady.

 

I followed her directions to a big two-story house, Finnahy, with beautiful flowers out front. Wow, that looks expensive, I thought. So I was blown away when the nice proprietress told me I could have the single room for for all three nights, including a full Irish breakfast, for about the price of one night with the cow-lady.

 

“I’ll take it,” I said. It’s a tiny room, just the length of a twin bed and barely wider, with a bathroom down the hall but the price is right and the place is lovely. I felt very lucky.

 

She poured me tea and served me cake and cookies in her pretty little sitting room and then, after settling my things in my room, I set off to town.

 

17About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Kenmare and the magical ring of Kerry

3-bottom, Citizen Journalism, Entertainment, Travel, , , ,

9By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Kenmare, one of the loveliest little towns in Ireland, is full of music and magic. My B&B host suggested a few different places for “craic,” which is what the Irish call fun, entertainment, gossip, news and enjoyable conversation. In Ireland, it’s all about the music. I’d been told several times to do as the locals do — walk down the street, put your ear up to the door and if you like the music, go in. If not, keep walking until you do. So that’s what I did, until finally I stopped and listened to a woman fiddler and a guy on the banjo, playing Irish ballads while I enjoyed some hearty Irish fare — a fish pie, rich and creamy, with a puff pastry crust on top, served with julienned carrots and turnips and mashed potatoes — definitely a comfort food dinner.

 

Indeed, you will not go hungry in Ireland. Not being a big breakfast eater, I did my best with the massive morning B&B meals. When I’d say please hold the sausage, I can’t eat that much, they’d bring me extra eggs to make up for it. Toast? How about a whole basket for one? And don’t forget the cereal and pastries.

 

After checking emails and receiving some bad financial news (it was time to pay the penalties and take out my retirement money, but I found out the market had just tanked), I tried to stay calm, to let go, to trust but it was hard. I decided to take a break, walked out the door and a big beautiful rainbow stretched across the whole sky — a sign, in living color. I still felt anxious, but seeing that bright glowing arch reminded me that there’s something bigger going on and to have faith.

 

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After several hours of booking accommodations and financial correspondence, I drove to a spot nearby where I heard there was a beautiful waterfall. By the time I arrived, the sun that had replaced the morning’s pouring rain had disappeared back into gray clouds and I couldn’t find the waterfall. I was about to give up when I saw a young guy mowing the lawn of a fancy hotel, and I stopped to ask him. He was super nice and friendly, a trait I found common in Ireland, and he stopped his mower to come over to my car.

 

“It’s under the stone bridge,” he told me. “You can’t see it from the road. Park in the hotel parking lot, walk around the front of the hotel, and follow the walkway down the side for the best view of the waterfall and the bridge.” I asked if it was okay if I’m not a hotel guest.

 

“Sure!” he assured me.

 

Then he showed up again and told me to cross the bridge, go through the “private property” gates and follow the path along the river on the other side for some more great views.

 

I passed through the greenest of green forests, the tree trunks covered in moss, and I shot panoramas of clouds reflected in the lake where the river spills out, all moody and shades of gray. Just the smell of the earth and the moss and the rain lifted my spirits.

 

6With a friend’s birthday coming up, I even shot a bouquet of flowers to send her in photo form. Lots of rain makes for a rainbow of blossoms.

 

Kenmare sits at the southern start of the famous Ring of Kerry, a place I’ve long dreamed of seeing. In fact, I would like to have walked it but didn’t have enough time although when I saw some hikers, they didn’t look too comfortable in the cold and rain lugging their heavy backpacks. You can take tour buses around, but I was glad I had a car as there are so many scenic spots to stop, which I could do at will and at my own pace. The weather varied from sun to wind to rain and back again.

 

It’s about a five-hour drive all the way around. I’d been told by several people that Beara and Dingle are more beautiful than Kerry, which I think partly has to do with how touristy Kerry has become. With fame come crowds, and the roads are a bit clogged with tour buses. In fact, my host recommended I drive clockwise, the opposite direction of the buses, so I wouldn’t get stuck behind one and not be able to see anything.

 

It was still an enjoyable drive, vast scenes of water and sky, punctuated by stops in small, colorful villages and ending at the ever-present Irish pub.

 

17About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Killarney, town & country

3-bottom, Citizen Journalism, Entertainment, Travel, , , ,

3

By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

The scenic route from Kenmare to Killarney includes winding roads through the Killarney National Park as well as rain and sun and rain again, mist and clouds, green green hills and even greener moss, soft as a blanket.

 

The lakes you pass are worth a stop. I could have stayed and gazed at the views for days.

 

7For a break from the car, I took a long hike to Torc waterfall, and spent a couple of hours on a rocky, muddy trail, up and down, mostly all to myself. You can park a 10-minute walk from the falls, but I preferred the scenic hike. At first the sun shone, the sky was blue, but by the time I got to the falls, the sky was gray and starting to sprinkle. The rest of my hike was through the rain, and I was glad I’d dressed for it.

 

It was one of my best Ireland experiences — like a fairy forest, all covered in moss — and I even saw a fairy ring, a short hollowed-out tree stump, where you could easily see fairies taking up residence. The ground was carpeted in lots of green shamrocks kissed by raindrops, too.

 

Ross Castle is a popular stop in Killarney. On my way into the castle, the sky was blue; an hour later it was gunmetal gray, but beautiful both ways. The only way to see the castle is to take the tour, which is quite interesting — one tall tower with a floor for dining, one for sleeping, one for parties. There’s a stone bench for a toilet with a slit to the outside a few floors below, where they hung their clothes over the waste as it produced ammonia which kept the lice out. No heat save a fire, it must’ve been so cold.

 

These castles were mostly protection against cattle raiding from other clans. A hole gaped in the floor, where boiling oil and rocks could be dumped on intruders’ heads and in the walls are slits for arrows and guns.

 

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My friend Soraya from Australia asked to meet up with me in Killarney as she was off on a journey of her own, so we toured Muckross house together. It’s a huge old house with beautiful furnishings, but when they described living conditions — especially how cold it was — it doesn’t sound like a very pleasant place to dwell. As we walked the manicured grounds near the lake, the rain suddenly came in torrents. Even with rain jackets and umbrellas we got soaked, especially when our umbrellas blew inside out. When you hear about Ireland getting a lot of rain, you can believe it.

 

Nearby Muckross Abbey is worth a stop as well and you can catch one of the popular horse drawn carts called jaunting cars, run by local jarvies.

 

14When the sky dried up a bit, we drove drove around the lake to the “Meeting of 3 Waters,” where you could take a short walk to a little cottage cafe for tea. The path was moss and heather heaven, the forest a blanket of green and lavender. The little stone bridge where the waters meet was very picturesque too.

 

On drier days, you can take a boat across.

 

Killarney itself is a bustling tourist town with more hotel rooms than any other Irish town or city, save for Dublin. It’s also full of shops, restaurants and pubs, and we enjoyed a couple of hearty meals, as well as some lively Irish music. A little girl of about 4 got out and danced an Irish jig for the crowd. Personally, I prefer smaller, less commercial Kenmare, but Killarney has a lot to offer, and is a great jumping off point for the Ring of Kerry.

 

1About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

Positively Positano, Amalfi Coast

3-bottom, Citizen Journalism, Entertainment, Food, Travel, , , ,

15

 

By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Positano and the Amalfi coast are gorgeous, no question about that. But they have price tags to match. So what is a budget traveler to do? After a little research, I discovered that you can stay in tiny Piano de Sorrento and take buses and trains that link the pricier towns together at a fraction of the cost. And even better, I got to stay in a super affordable hostel in an old Monastery, with bells chiming, lovely staff and some of the nuns still hanging around.

 

Sisters Hostel is only a few minutes’ walk from nice swimmable beaches, and little trattorias, where you can dine to your heart’s content, on pasta, fresh seafood, fig torte… You can still get a $5 pizza fresh out of the oven at family run places, where Mama and her daughter will serve you while Papa, who resembles a benign Godfather, looks on…

 

24A short walk to the train station, and an even shorter train ride, will take you to Sorrento, where you can catch a scenic bus along the coast down to Positano and Amalfi. My bus was full, but that didn’t stop dozens more people from climbing aboard and squeezing in, so I followed suit. It was standing room only, so I stood, jam-packed in the aisle on the most winding road I’ve ever seen with sheer drops down to the sea dotted with what looked like toy boats. I could see the driver — he was talking on the phone, holding the phone to his ear with his right hand, while driving that huge bus on those snake-like roads at the edge of precipitous cliffs.

 

And then he started talking with his left hand, as Italians are prone to do. Um, wait, if his right hand is holding a phone to his ear and his left hand is fluttering about in the air speaking sign language…who’s steering the bus? On top of all that, the older Italian woman next to me kept trying to show him a magazine. But we made it to Positano.

 

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Positano is positively beautiful, with colorful buildings spilling down the steep hillside to the sea. Stop on your walk down from the bus stop for a frozen lemon slush, the ice cold sweet and sour taste is divine. Lots of fun clothing, jewelry, ceramic and shoe shops, along with art galleries and stands, line the way.

 

And the beach, dotted with neon umbrellas, beckons you into the azure sea for a swim. The water is the perfect temperature, cool enough to be refreshing, but warm enough to feel like silk. I floated and swam, got out, heated up and did it again. The views from the water are astonishing — rainbow houses stacked like blocks form a giant triangle up the steep hillside.

 

If you’re hungry, plenty of restaurants wait nearby, most of them with a view… As I was taking a photo of my wine glass with the umbrellas and the sea in the background, one of the young employees called out, “Wait!” and he brought me a little bowl of peanuts with a small silver spoon and arranged it near my wine glass for my picture.21
Suddenly, while I was swimming, a storm blew in. And I do mean suddenly! One minute it’s sunny and lots of people are frolicking in the water, the next minute thunder is rumbling and a huge gray line of clouds is rapidly advancing on us, waves kicked up and umbrellas tipping over.

 

I stumbled out of the sea (it’s very rocky and sharp on the soles of your feet), and as I struggled to slip my shirt on, my lounge chair blew over. Dozens of us raced up the beach towards the row of restaurants. Huge jags of lightning streaked from heaven to sea, but the sky only dropped a few specks of rain. As hordes of tourists swarmed up the narrow zigzagging streets that climb the hill, I figured the bus would be packed, with everyone leaving at once.

 

I was right, the street was lined with dozens of people waiting. Luckily, despite the thunder and lightning, the rain held off. I happened to be standing next to a lovely lady from South Africa, and we kept each other company, comparing travel notes, while we waited a half hour for the next bus. We could tell not everyone would fit on — the bus was coming from Amalfi, and the seats were already full. When the bus stopped and the doors opened, the crowd surged forward, a mini-stampede.

 

Complaints were heard in English, with American accents, “Hey, wait! We’ve been waiting here 45 minutes, you just got here, that’s not fair!” as newcomers pushed ahead to the front of the line. Cultural differences — in America you get skewered for line-cutting, here it’s a way of life. My South African friend and I pushed ahead with the rest of the Italians, and although we stood for the whole hour ride to Sorrento, at least we got on the bus.

 

And just in time, it appeared, as the heavens opened up and the rain poured down. It grew even darker and the winding road looked like a slick black snake. Heat wrapped around us, and motion sickness threatened, but I managed to keep it in check. The drive took longer than it should have, as a middle-aged German couple couldn’t figure out which stop was theirs, so they kept ringing the stop button over and over, then not getting off. But eventually we made it, just in time for me to catch the last train back to Piano. (Sorry,  no windstorm disaster photos.)

 

It’s another hour ride further down the coast to Amalfi from Positano, though I have to say to me, Amalfi is not as nice; it’s much more commercial and more expensive. The beach is kind of a carnival, basted with tons of bodies, but people looked like they were having fun. It depends on what you’re looking for.

 

17About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

The art of traveling solo

3-bottom, Citizen Journalism, Entertainment, ,

17

 

By Lynn Strough

Travelynn Tales

 

Welcome to another chapter in the ongoing series by our world traveler, Lynn Strough. This week, Lynn shares the secrets of traveling solo.

“Aren’t you lonely?!” people ask me over and over, when they find out I’m traveling solo. Most of the time the answer is a resounding “no.” I’m usually only alone when I want to be, and sometimes I want to be but can’t — hostels are busy, tourist destinations are packed and restaurants are crowded.

 

When I am alone, I’m not usually lonely — I’m too busy taking and editing photos, blogging, reading, writing, researching my next location, enjoying my current location or sleeping.

 

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It’s possible to feel alone in a crowd. But when you’re traveling solo, be prepared for lots of people to engage you in conversation, whether it’s asking for directions, admiring a view or sharing photo opportunities. People will often approach a solo traveler more often than a couple or a group, even if it’s just to ask if you’re really traveling alone. When you’re traveling with someone, you’re usually busy talking to them, which makes it less likely you’ll meet someone new.

 

If you want company and nobody approaches you, that’s easy to fix. There’s always the old, “Nice weather we’re having,” but you can get much more creative than that. When you see people shooting each others’ pictures, offer to take one of their whole group, so no one is left out. Or ask someone to take your picture with your phone or camera, as it’s nice to have something other than a selfie.

 

You can ask directions, or if somebody knows of a good restaurant in the area. Or, “Excuse me, but where did you get that (hat, map, tote bag, whatever).” Or ask the locals where to get your hair cut.

 

11

Speaking of asking the locals, I love to ask the locals where they eat out and what their favorite sights are in their city. Usually they have very different answers than the tourist office or other tourists. It’s the best way to find the more interesting, hidden and usually less expensive places. And you might make a new friend in the process.

 

Stay in places other than hotels. Hotels are expensive, and usually keep travelers pretty separated unless there’s a lively lounge where people hang out. But hotel dwellers tend to keep to themselves. A hostel or guesthouse, on the other hand, is a great way to meet fellow travelers and locals alike. Whether you’re in a dorm room with eight beds, or even if you have your own room, many guests make use of the shared kitchen to cook meals, not just to save money, but because it’s a fun way to meet people and learn about other countries and cultures, and not just the one you’re currently traveling in. Forget about the old stereotype of a hostel as a fleabag dive with teenage backpackers. Yes, there are those out there, but most hostels and guesthouses these days have pretty high standards, and people of all ages and all walks of life stay there. That’s where on-line reviews are great — you can read all about the good and the bad on sites like TripAdvisor.

 

Another way to meet people when traveling solo is to stay at B&Bs. Air B&B has gotten really popular around the world — and these are not the old traditional B&Bs. These days a lot of people are renting rooms out in their homes or apartments — this is a great way to learn about local culture. Sometimes they even invite you to dinner to share their local cuisine!

 

And speaking of staying in the homes of locals, don’t forget couch surfing! This is like Air B&B, only free. You set up a profile ahead of time and apply for people to host you, sometimes on their couch and sometimes with a room of your own. You can specify if you’d like to stay with male and/or female hosts, and what age range and read their reviews to know if they’re someone you think you might like to meet.

 

6

Couch surfing is not just about free accommodations, it’s about cultural exchange and it’s amazing. I couch surfed in Treviso near Venice and got to go with my host out on a classic boat to swim in the lagoon, attend her gospel choir rehearsal and meet a bunch of other couch surfers and hosts and in Paris, my host took me to watch her tango by the Eiffel Tower at night (see my posts about Couch Surfing). These are experiences you can’t buy, although it’s recommended that you bring your host a small gift or cook them a meal.

 

Even if you’re the shy type and don’t normally engage strangers in chat back home, travel solo and you’ll get over it. It’s a learning and growing experience. Head out to local pubs and coffee houses, or picnic in parks during the day and partake of free concerts at night. You’re sure to meet lots of friendly people.

 

Take public transportation! You meet a lot more people on buses or walking than you do in a private cab and save money at the same time. I met a woman on a bus on an island in Croatia on my way to go wine tasting, and she not only joined me, but we found a great beach and then met another couple on our way back and ended up all having dinner together. These chance encounters are what make travel fun.

 

Solo travel is easy in a lot of ways. Yes, you have to make all of the travel arrangements and plans by yourself, but that’s the beauty of it! You can go wherever you want, whenever you want, with no disagreement from anyone else. When you travel with others, your days are full of compromises on where to go, when to eat, where to eat, where to stay, how much to spend, whether you plan ahead or are more spontaneous. It can be exhausting just to make simple decisions that everyone can agree on. I’ve had enough travel experiences with ill-matched travel companions to know that as much as I like to travel with someone, if it’s not the right person, I’m much happier alone. No arguing about who sleeps on which side of the bed, you have the whole thing to yourself with no earplugs needed for snoring.

 

26

I’ve met people who say, “I would never travel alone. I like to share my experiences with someone.” Yes, I do too. But sharing experiences hasn’t been an issue, as there is a whole wide world out there full of lovely people to share your travel experiences with. Kind friends from back home contacted me on my birthday last March, concerned that I’d be spending it alone in Thailand. So I sent them a picture of my impromptu birthday party with a bunch of new friends from half a dozen different countries, who each sang happy birthday to me in their native language. It was one of the most fun and interesting birthdays I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

 

Sometimes seeing couples everywhere might make you a little wistful, but the truth is, you never know if they’re having the time of their lives traveling together, or are secretly wishing that they too, were off on their own adventure.

 

My around-the-world journey was mostly solo, although I’ve had a few friends meet up with me here and there which has been a real treat. It is fun to share such beautiful places with good friends.

 

And sometimes you meet new friends you end up seeing later in your travels, like a new friend in Australia meeting up with me in Thailand and Ireland, and a chance meeting in Dubrovnik that turned up as a lunch five months later in the UK.

 

It’s rare that I’m alone, and when I am, like housesitting in the South of France, the Highlands of Scotland and quaint Corsham and Hove in England, I relish my time by myself (although I did have lively canines for company).

 

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If you get lonely for your friends and family back home, never fear — as long as you have wifi, which isn’t hard to find these days pretty much anywhere in the world, you can use Skype, FaceTime, WhatsApp, Viber and WeChat to talk to anyone else who loads the same app, for free.

 

And speaking of friends and family, I’ve made so many new friends around the world that now feel like family, many of whom I would never have met had I not been traveling alone. I’ve found that a lot of people are willing to invite a single traveler to stay with them, but have admitted if I was traveling as part of a pair or group, the same offer wouldn’t have been there, often due to only having one spare couch or a single bed.

 

Recently I read an article that said solo travel is on the rise and finally travel companies are recognizing that and catering to solo travelers. It’s about time! Traditionally, tour companies have charged a premium for solo travelers, in some cases double for your accommodations, but that seems to be changing. And that’s another way to travel and not be alone — go on a cruise or on a pre-packaged tour and you’ll be adopted by others in no time. This isn’t my preferred method of travel as you usually pay a lot extra and your itinerary is fixed, where I like more flexibility and can travel solo for three times as long for the same amount of money. But if you only have a couple of weeks of vacation time and don’t want the hassle of making your own arrangements, this is a good alternative.

 

Or take a day tour like a city sightseeing bus, go swimming with dolphins or elephants, or participate in a cooking class. There’s nothing like jumping into a freezing ocean in wet suits or sharing a plate of pad Thai that you just made yourself, to bond with a bunch of strangers.

 

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When you travel by yourself, oftentimes your senses are heightened since you don’t have a travel companion to distract you. You notice little things you might otherwise miss, like the soft feel of moss on a tree trunk, the sweet silkiness of the icing on your cake, the scent of the flowers you’re photographing or the sound of the doves on the window ledge above.

 

Do things you like to do and you’ll meet others who enjoy the same activities. Go to a bookstore, head out on a boat, go for a hike or hang out in a local pub for some live music.

 

It’s a very small world out there. When you open yourself up to meeting new people, the connections are fascinating.

 

Volunteering is another way to meet people when traveling alone and you can feel good about helping others at the same time. I met a young couple in my guest house kitchen in Thailand one morning. They were from Ohio and invited me to go with them to a home for HIV kids.

 

So don’t let the fact that you can’t find a friend or travel companion to share your journey keep you stuck at home. Strike out solo, and enjoy your own adventures!

 

5About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50+ free spirit whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa Valley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission

In Cambodia: Exploring Angkor Wat

3-bottom, Education, Local Faces, Travel, , , , ,

18By Lynn Strough
Travelynn Tales

 

This is the second installment chronicling the adventures of Lynn Strough, a local artist and writer who’s been traveling the world since November 2014. Lynn’s travels have (so far) taken her to Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, Cambodia, Japan, Slovenia, Croatia, Ireland, England, France, Italy… and I’m sure we’re forgetting a few destinations. To learn more about her journey, go here.

 

Angkor Wat. If it brings up visions of a long-ago faraway place, something you might have seen in a dream, this is an accurate picture. It is part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site in Cambodia, built in the 12th century, and the complex covers miles of ground. It is the largest religious monument in the world. A wat is a temple, and the famous Angkor that you see in a lot of the photos is but one of many temples here, the best preserved of them all. Originally, Angkor Wat was a place of Hindu worship, however that changed to Buddhism long ago.

 

The nearby town is Siem Reap, and to get to Angkor Wat, you hire a tuk tuk driver, who shuttles you from temple to temple and waits in between. If you want to see something really special, you go at sunrise, which means meeting your driver at 5am, but it’s totally worth it.

 

I rode through the dark, cool morning in my tuk tuk, accompanied by others on the road doing the same thing, and arrived at the entrance gate to purchase my ticket (you can buy a one or three day pass). It turns out that just because you’re willing to get up at 4 am, doesn’t mean you’re the only one. I could show you just my photos with nobody in them, but I think it best to give you the full picture.

 

 

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About Lynn Strough

Lynn is a 50-something-year-old woman whose incarnations in this life have included graphic designer, children’s book author and illustrator, public speaker, teacher, fine art painter, wine educator in the Napa V21alley, and world traveler. Through current circumstances, she has found herself single, without a job or a home, and poised for a great adventure.

 

“You could consider me homeless and unemployed, but I prefer nomad and self-employed, as I pack up my skills and head off with my small backpack and even smaller savings to circumnavigate the globe (or at least go until the money runs out). Get ready to tag along for the ride…starting now!”

 

travelynnlogoAll images copyright Lynn Strough and Travelynn Tales

Reprinted with permission