I met a man on a plane last month. He was the kind of guy I’ve been seated next to a hundred times on a flight without saying more than a polite hello: a generation older than me, graying hair, jeans, tucked-in button-down shirt, sneakers. He reminded me of my dad.
We were flying Southwest, which has an open seating policy, and I happened to have A1 for the only time in my life. A1 is the first passenger to board the plane, and accordingly, I got to choose the first seat. Now, this is tricky proposition for an introvert who likes options. The entire plane is open (great!), but I’d be fully responsible for my personal placement if I ended up in the wrong neighborhood (not so great). (more…)
We’ve been in Germany just ten days, but it feels like a lifetime…in a good way. We left Ireland last Tuesday after a fantastic week, capped off with two active days in Dublin. It was a short, productive flight to Frankfurt; M worked on the poetry book he’s co-editing, and I practiced my German (which needs a bit of practice). Our flight landed nearly an hour late, but M’s uncle and cousin were waiting patiently for us just past customs. We had initially planned to take the train, but after a long week of travel, we were grateful for their offer to pick us up. We chatted all the way back to their house in a small town along the Main River south of the city of Aschaffenburg.
We stayed local the first few days, getting used to another time zone and catching up with M’s family. We’ve traveled here each of the past two summers, but in prior years, our visits have been planned around M’s cousins’ weddings. It’s a nice change of pace to be without a formal agenda on this trip. (more…)
We left Clifden Thursday morning with our sights set on tiny Achill Island on Ireland’s west coast. It was slated as a short drive (less than two hours), but we planned to take our time. Our first stop—just twenty minutes or so from the inn—was at Connemara National Park. On any other day, we would have trekked to the top of the park’s famous (and fog-covered) Diamond Hill. But two days before a marathon is not the time to take on an unknown hike (any hike, really). (more…)