Destination: Dingle Town (It’s a fishing village, pervert.)

My front yard is jealous.

Wise words from a pub in Dingle

A wee backstory: Because I am sometimes immobilized with procrastination (but very good at list-making), I wrote out all the places I have been but have neglected to write about. As long as the fishes permit me time and brain function, I plan to share a few.

This week, I clicked “Randomize” and “Dingle Town” moved to position #1. I thought, “Well, I just wrote about Ireland last week. I don’t want the other countries to feel unappreciated.” I clicked “Randomize.” Many things changed, but “Dingle Town” remained in first position. I clicked “Randomize” again. “Dingle Town” glowered from #12, but who should I find at #1 but “Sixmilebridge”….Ireland.

Nobody fucks with the Dingle Town.

Ireland town/area names are some of the most abnormally amazing words in the English language. This is usually because they are a vague translation of the Irish (Gaelic) original name. To wit: Ballygawley, Knockatober, Cloonmacduff, Muff, Ballymagrorty, Figary, Tralee, Frogmore, Gortadoo, Riverstick…

And then there is Dingle. Second only to Ballygawley, Dingle is my favorite to say. Dingledingledingledingledingledingledingle. See? It also happens to be a very beautiful and friendly little town where I took some pictures, drank some beer and attempted to learn Irish dancing from a charming young man (who, no doubt, immediately regretted his offer).

Driving toward your destination, you sometimes have to stop at the side of the road because you find a field breathtaking (and then you realize, you are an old person).

There are all sorts of ruins strewn about cow and sheep pastures in this country. Perhaps this used to be a grain silo, but I prefer to think they were all castles.

Dingle Town arrival!

Yes – I think we established that.

A time transportation vortex outside a church.

Or maybe that’s this thing. I’ve never seen a thatched teepee at a church before. Priest time out? New age confession booth?

Nuns

Hello residents. I’m just creeping through your windows.

 

Seafood traps, totes, nets and buoys. I’m at home!

Good night, Dingle Town. Now let’s get rowdy.

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Dear Saturday,

 

I love you.

xxxo,

Jessie

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Castle-topped cliffs, oceanfront pasture bluffs – THIS. IS. IIIIRRREEELAAAAAAAND!*

Well, shit.

The problem with writing about a place like the Giant’s Causeway on the northern coast of Ireland* is that I started by looking back through my pictures. Pictures, of which, I snapped about a billion in a week in Ireland.

The reason for this? Everywhere I turned, there was something so damn majestic or pastoral or just teeming with romantic Irish badassness, that it would have felt positively sinful not to picture it. This describes most of Ireland. If you could possibly resist the fuzzy allure of the baby sheep or the haphazard stumbling-upon of castles, you would then have to reckon with the people.

Irish people will teach you some things about personality. A good chunk of the ones I’ve met are feisty and witty, talkative and charming but with serious, sensible tendencies. Or maybe I just so love the cadence and play used in their daily language, that I project those qualities on everyone there.  Either way, I have seriously enjoyed both my visits.

Therefore, I present to you Dunluce Castle / Giant’s Causeway in pictures. (I have tried to pare down the quantity, but I hope you will be sympathetic to the difficulty of the task.)

~***~

Scene: Sir Mao the Elder Gnome (Mao) and I so love our first night in the northern bits of Ireland, that we adjust our travel plans to spend an extra day there. With ferry schedule restrictions and one small afternoon to see Giant’s Causeway, we explore with furious excitement.

CASTLE ON A CLIFF OVERLOOKING THE OCEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

This was the dream house of my young imagination (though this one has slightly fewer ceilings and fireplaces). That little bridge right there…it used to be a damn drawbridge.

See – I’m not joking. It’s on a cliff. So much so, that signs said the kitchen fell off once, taking with it various kitchen staff. I say that’s a small price to pay for this location.

This is the view from one of my windows. Hello, picturesque cows!

This is the view from another window. Probably the window I would look for when I’m sailing back home from a long trip at sea.

And this is looking out from my collapsed kitchen. I think the fact that the walls fell off really just made for a better view.

My family crest highlights my skills of doing the hand jive, killing vampires, burning boats and riding sea creatures.

This is my taxidermied fox friend who is highly-skilled in surprising and terrifying shorter gnome-like people (like Mao).

The next photos are a 3-part zoom.

See those little humans on the pathway?

A spit of basalt columns (or Finn McCool’s path to Scotland)….

NEAT!

I believe that here, Mao, who has been admiring the ocean, castles, farmland and greenery, is commenting on how utterly ridiculous this place is. She is seeping happiness.

About to cross Lough Foyle on the ferry from Magilligan strand to Greencastle after a couple pints at the Point Bar. Yay us.

A quick stop here for fish and chips then back to the Sandrock Holiday Hostel.

Here’s a map of the jaunt. If you look at that map, please note the names of most of the towns….which we would read aloud off highway signs during our car trips. And there was much chuckling.

In conclusion, please join me next week for another destination from a list I have randomized of places I visited and then neglected writing about.

~***~

*Technically Northern Ireland, U.K.

 

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Testes, One Two

Don’t be alarmed, everyone. I’m not suddenly full of brains and energy and gumption to entertain.

I am, however, excited by WordPress’s news that I can use my email to create posts, so let’s see if this works:

The walk to Pop’s cabin (and the only exercise I performed while in Idaho).

The WordPress people also told me I can share videos with you. Like this one…which you should have already watched, but here it is just in case you missed it.

Comb Your Beard (at Night)

Here’s hoping this works!

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Fun time photo organization!

One of the nicest things about buying an enormous computer with one terabyte of space is that, if you’re me, you can add every photo, music, art and writing file you own, and you will not even begin to fill up the big beast’s memory.

You can then sit back and watch its preloaded photo program (iphoto) organize your files by date. It is awfully sweet. You can then entertain* and frighten** yourself with exercises like, you know, looking up this week in history***.

For example:

This week in 2004, I was saying goodbye to my friends, school and host family in Guadalajara, Mexico and striking out on a bus & backpack trip of Mexico and Guatemala.

Goodbye, armed guards protecting the school entrance.

Hello, awful packing skills. I’m glad I have improved upon something in recent years.

(I have photos thanks to tech-savvy friends Estaci & Eveena.)

This week in 2005, I was still spurning technology and shooting pictures on film…until Christmas.

This week in 2006, I was in Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho drinking beers and kicking ass at Stevie Wonder karaoke duets with two of my dear, lifelong chums.

Hello, Lauren and Garrett!

This week in 2007, I visited Omze n’ Thrillz and roamed the bars of Moscow, Idaho.

Omie & I pretend to be cool

I display my sportsmanship

Thrillahamm probably cheating

This week in 2008, I was Christmas tree scheming in the Sitka cabin. I was also tan and sassy after my first trip to the Hawaiian Islands (Kauai).

I miss you, Vitamin D.

This week in 2009, I explored a Grand ole Canyon in the American Southwest!

 

Mr. Holden makes photos.

I make airplane noises.

This week this year, I am in Sitka, and I took some pictures of my new Christmas shrub. In the continuing tradition of my Fantastic Zip Tie Christmas Bush, it is unconventional but festive.

But more on that tomorrow. For now I have very important photo-based cultural anthropology research to complete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*If you like to reminisce.

**If you are gun-shy about mortality.

***History = the few years I have owned a digital camera.

 

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Home Again, Jiggity Jig

Photo: renjith krishnan

I read a quote the other day by Chinese writer, Lin Yutang:

“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.”

That pretty much summed up how I have felt upon my return to Sitka.

Perhaps it was the deep pitching of the ferry on windy waters.

Or maybe the influence of a whole load of goodies packed into my new Subaru prickled my brain. But for the first time ever, I was antsy for the ferry ride to be over. Eager to be….HOME!

What was this strange feeling, and who stole my wanderlust?

I certainly did not have an awful seven weeks on the road (and water). I had an amazing trip across 10 states and British Columbia. I explored a new-to-me chunk of the country (New England) and shared brews with friends I hadn’t seen in far too long.

What I didn’t do (minus a few beautiful days on Kauai) was relax. I bustled around, shipping myself here and there like a sack o’ salmon, and I realize now that some decompress time between intense summer work and ambitious fall travel might have been a good idea.

That schedule did, however, help me appreciate my home base. I’m very grateful to have my life, the people in it, the opportunities I’ve worked for and for this new development. A nest. A home I have been in over a year now in a town where I’ve spent much of the last three years. A place I feel comfortable and content.

And really – who wouldn’t be thrilled to come home to this place?

This view is not quite as impressive during the current 16-hours of night.

* These feelings could just mean I am now old and boring and that I have a life of darning socks and scrubbing baseboards to look forward to.

** Did you see those American Airlines deals to Europe yesterday?! Oh. Wait. I found my wanderlust!

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New England leaf creep preview

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Oh hello there. You’ve just caught me climbing this odd pole at an abandoned granite quarry off a dirt road in rural southern Vermont.

Here are a couple other things I have been experimenting with:

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Serious autumn awesomeness (Windham, Vermont)

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Nuts and parks (Boston, Massachusetts)

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Fireplace chasing in old country inns (Echo Lake, Vermont)

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Ice cream (Waterbury, Vermont)

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BEER! (Burlington, Vermont)

And just in case anyone has any questions, I have been scrabbling semi-coherent notes for a series of more depthy location-specific posts. I hope you’ll read along as I creep through leafy New England…

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A screenshot from this web site. I have been in the High/Peak Color areas, and holy mother, it is just like the fancy picture books.

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A smattering of wonderful things

Oh June, you dramatic bastard. You have asserted yourself soundly in just two days.

June means salmon in southeast Alaska which starts with anxious prepping and waiting followed by furious working and money making (and some slapstick pratfalls).

When I turn the lead-weighted calendar page past May, I kick into an imbedded trick calendar that lasts until the end of September when real life begins again. (This is also when I stop wearing hats and hoodies every day.) But before I say goodbye to all things social and moderately intelligent, I want to remember a smattering of wonderful things such as…

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April snowflakes on salmon berries…

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And whiskers on sea lions…

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Veggie tortas from the taco truck…

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And creative house numbers…

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Wild greens that grow in my shipping crate raised beds

(These are a few things I like very much.)

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Forget-me-nots and cement flowers…

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And harbor sunsets…

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Views from my front stoop and slash and burning Spruce trees…

When the seiners set, when the tenders deliver, when I’m feeling sleep-deprived….I simply…

Okay okay. I will set the wine glass down and stop spinning around my bedroom like a drunken Julie Andrews in a quick-tied bed sheet skirt. But srsly – I dig all of these things very much. As for you, June, we’ll tangle again tomorrow.

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Ocean Therapy

In short but photo-fat format, I wanted to share my evening. I took a needed solitary paddle around my front (back?) yard after a long convoluted day. It worked perfectly, as did the fat glass of vino after.

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Volcano!

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What is this, a Russian bath house?

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Shipwreck!

I even saw a couple whale spouts while I was out. What an amazing place. Have I convinced you to visit me yet?

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Weekend Road* Trip to Juneau, Alaska

*So it’s not exactly paint on pavement, it’s a big, blue watery road, but the U.S. D.O.T. designated the Alaska Marine Highway a National Scenic Byway, so it counts.

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M/V Fairweather

I f’ing love the ferry! It is the poor man’s cruise ship and my favorite method of travel. You can sit where you want, change seats, enjoy your ample leg room, walk around, drink a beer in the ferry bar, watch a movie in the theater, type, read, shower, camp in the solarium (for no extra charge), bring your car and all of this on a big ship traveling the stunning Inside Passage, the same route the Alaska cruise ships take. Perhaps if I keep going, the AK D.O.T. will sponsor me with a free season pass. Hmmmm?

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Also the same route the cargo barges take

Last weekend, a couple friends and coworkers had Fish & Game reporting training in Juneau and invited me to tag along and share their hotel room. A cool $90 round trip for my ferry ticket, and I was set for transportation and lodging. Thanks, friends!

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Route starting at bottom middle and following the red track

Busting upward of 30 knots, the the M/V Fairweather (known as the fast ferry) makes the trip to Juneau in 5.5 hours instead of the normal 9 to 16. Given the route, this is ballsy. From Sitka on the open Pacific, the route to Juneau first goes north through the ripping tides of the Narrows of Olga and Neva Straits. I would crap my fine Swedish rain pants if I had to take any boat through there. A hard starboard swing at Salisbury Sound puts you in Peril Strait which is oh-so-slightly-less narrow. After a good long creep through the beauty and a serious 90 degree port side turn, you have made it to Chatham Strait which is an ass-hauling freeway in comparison. Once you see the lighthouse at Point Retreat on the north tip of Admiralty Island, you’re basically in Juneau! But enough nerding out on cartography, here’s a bulleted list of things I can do in Juneau that I can’t do in Sitka:

~Rip apart some red curry halibut at Chan’s Thai Kitchen (11806 Glacier Highway). Conveniently located near the ferry terminal in Auke Bay, we beelined here for dinner.

~Admire the view from room 511 in the Prospector Hotel (375 Whittier Street). Our room was fine, but I did find the two small dogs on the main lobby counter off-putting.

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Poorly lit panorama

~Luxuriate in the arms of a bagel sandwich from Silverbow Bakery (120 2nd Street).

~Pray to the multitude of brew taps at The Hangar (2 Marine Way). In an old airplane hangar on the wharf, the views of cruise ships and float planes are nice; the view of more beer on tap than in all of Sitka combined – spectacular.

~Purchase some shirts at Fred Meyer (8181 Glacier Highway). It’s a simple thing, but I haven’t found any place to buy plain v-neck t-shirts for a reasonable price in my town.

~Maintain my love affair with the Alaskan (167 South Franklin Street). I am madly passionate about the giant old Victorian carved wood bar. Built in 1913 and at times a speakeasy and a brothel, I can’t imagine a place that could make me much happier. I don’t, however, recommend the hotel rooms for cleanly or sober types.

~Stock up on used literature at Rainy Retreat Books (113 Seward Street).

~Drive to the Mendenhall Glacier and pick up some chunks of 200-year-old ice (8510 Mendenhall Loop Road). Then make a geology cocktail.

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There is a season; tern, tern, tern

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Nasty weather; pretty icebergs

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Mix with tequila, sour & lime for a Glacierita

~Save multitudes of grocery dollars at Costco (5225 Commercial Boulevard). That is unless you misjudge closing time on Saturday and miss your opportunity to buy perishables….perhaps because you were at the Alaskan Brewing Company.

~Enjoy a Alaskan Brewing Company Smoked Porter (5429 Shaune Drive). Just kidding – that beer tastes like sweat socks in a campfire, but I do love every other Alaskan beer. Here they give you multiple delicious brew samples until you forget all about your grocery shopping plans.

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Annie appreciates a fine Campsock Smoked Porter.

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Want

~Dance with a toothless local to techno mixes at the Rendezvous (184 South Franklin Street). To be fair, I can do this in Sitka but not to DJ-spun techno dance jamz. The first time I came here some years back, our bartender jumped up on the bar and danced for us to Gunther’s Tra La La song. It was early afternoon.

~Soak it all up with Pel’ Meni (2 Marine Way). At about 3 a.m., the bar-expelled population makes its way to this little Russian dumpling shop. You will burn your mouth, you will spill butter, sour cream and cock sauce on yourself and you will rejoice the next day if you have any leftovers with which to treat your hangover.

And that concludes our little jaunt to Juneautown. Despite very little sleep before the return ferry check-in at 7 a.m., I had a damn fine time. I slept off my hangover in a comfortable ferry recliner and finished my potato Pel’ Meni, concluding the weekend’s to-do checklist.

And as with all my writing:

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More info here (Surprisingly safe for work).

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