Travel Evolution

My peregrinations, outside the US that is, began a good eight or nine years after coming off the road with the carnival -- I guess I had an itchy travel finger/foot/whatever.

I watched my pals with beaus head off to explore other worlds and was jealous. Sure, The Amazing Bob™ was in my life but he was a single daddy with big responsibilities (plus there wasn’t enough dough to travel con la famiglia) -- more, much more, though he doesn’t enjoy travel. Bob’s a homebody -- wandering the world isn’t his idea of a good time AT ALL.  I’m cool and down with that and totally respect his needs, wishes, inclinations. Still, I wanted to go, go, GO -- see other countries, hear foreign accents, listen to music in clubs where the headliners were introduced in languages I didn’t know. Maybe some of the urgency I felt was fueled by the knowledge that my hearing was on loan -- due back to that factory on an unknown date.

So I went. And he was OK with that. We missed each other madly but understood that one of us needed/wanted to stay home and the other had to fly.

I was a little scared to travel on my own but also thrilled by the adventure aspect. OK, relative adventure aspect. I’m def and without doubt NOT some living-on-the-edge thrill seeker. Oh my, no! 

My very first trip was to Scotland -- Glen Coe in the Highlands and on to the Isle of Skye. The big finish was in some singer/songwriter and punk-ish clubs in Edinburgh. Woo hoo -- way to get outta my comfort zone! Yes, this was a foreign country and, indeedy, I had one hell of a time parsing the accents when I was up around Oban and Airds Bay. Still and all, it’s not like I was trekking through Tibet or wandering the forgotten forests of Mount Mabu in Mozambique. Yep, I had guy friends who were doing both -- on there own too.

I’ve always felt that my solo travels have been timid -- even the one through Poland after it’d just opened to the West. I’ve been mostly about poking around, seeing new cities/towns. I’m not looking to scale Mount Olympus or join in with Rwandan freedom fighters -- no, no, I’m a shy girl (stop laughing -- am too!). And, yeah, I feel guilty for being such an undaring soul. Granted, I was raised Catholic -- I feel guilt when I draw a breath.

Honestly, music has determined my destination more often than not -- hearing old and new tunes on offer in safe, or relatively so, countries. In Scotland and Ireland it was trad fair (plus an amazing John Martyn show at Usher Hall). In Amsterdam, Prague too, it was about jazz, punk and an amazing Percussion fest. Random factoid -- when I was 42, my peak drum/percussion music ingestion level was 48 hours. Straight. That’s when I’d had enough drums and had to go out and take a wee break. Comparatively -- my reggae limit stands at 2 songs MAX.

In any case, at some point, back in the mists of my all too vast history, I met Jen who’s been joining me in my rambling walkabouts ever since. Solo travel isn’t over for me but, gotta say, I’m mad, crazy, wild about traveling with Jen -- the friendship, the camaraderie, the assist in lugging all the Black Cuillin and Hebridean Gold  back home (we had vicious shoulder aches for 3 months -- that’s some seriously heavy beer) -- it’s unmatched, unbeatable and too much fun to be legal. The chick’s a good time, I’m tellin’ you!

Our next big voyage will be in October -- back to a place we’ve earlier visited and loved -- An Daingean (Dingle) a town in County Kerry, Ireland. We’ll hike, bike, go to the clubs and see if I can absorb/hear the seisiúns through the vibrations in the wooden booths. All this AND our pal Brenda from Dublin (Slaine actually) will join us and MAYBE my cousin Della in Berlin will come up too.

Christ this is gonna be 500 shades of fun!