Travel in 2018 was good to my husband and me. Before the year began, we had secured our plans to travel abroad to Ireland, Scotland and England. Since we are both in education, summer is the optimal time for us to travel. Too much summer, they say, is a beautiful thing. Travel, I say, is a beautiful thing, rich in surprising discoveries. What would we see? Who would we meet? What would we learn?
Somehow, we managed to land a parking spot upon arriving at our first destination, Kilkenny, Ireland. Admittedly, I am always a bit apprehensive when traveling. But once we took a few steps down the street, found a cafe, grabbed a sandwich and chips and spotted an open seat on a park bench in the garden of a castle, I was able to push back the realm of uncertainty and open myself up to all the trip had to offer.
A few days later, as we explored Portmagee, Ireland, our curiosity netted an unexpected honor. We soon found ourselves in the presence of Ireland’s Top Toilet Award. 2002’s runner-up to be exact. I’m not sure what all that entails, but that’s certainly something we don’t see around here.
Later the same evening, our friendly bed-and-breakfast host attempted to make small talk while she checked us in.
“Did you have any trouble pack-ing?” she inquired.
At least, that’s what I heard her say. Although I thought that was an unusual, and somewhat personal, question, I felt it best to answer. But first, I wanted to be sure of what she was asking.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Could you repeat the question?”
“Did you have any trouble pack-ing,” she offered, again. “You know, pack-ing your car?”
This was one of the many not-so-surprising times we enjoyed the beautiful Irish accent. One. Of. Many. We also enjoyed the differences in the way we turn phrases. Doors were marked “Way Out” as opposed to “Exit.” If we needed to climb a few stories of a building, we took lifts rather than elevators. And we had to “mind” our heads when walking through unusually low doorways. For breakfast, we were often asked, “Are you happy with butter on your toast?” Best of all, when we’d ask for advice, we were often told, “It depends on your fancy.”
While In Edinburgh, our last day in fell on a Sunday, so we found ourselves looking for a church. From our bed and breakfast, we settled on one within walking distance and followed the exact directions on our GPS: St. Albert’s. Don’t ask me why, but I somehow envisioned a large church, ornate in its detailed architecture. Perhaps because all churches in Scotland must be elaborately constructed, right? Furthermore, a bonus feature was that it was located on the campus of the University of Edinburgh, so we would also get to explore the grounds. Two-for-one.
Our GPS led us to what looked like a residence settled among row houses. On the residence, too, was a small sign reading “St. Albert’s.”
“This can’t be it, can it?” I asked my husband. “Jiggle the handle and see what happens.”
“You jiggle the handle,” he replied.
Of course, I did. I’d hoped to open the door to, perhaps, an intimate setting for Mass or, at least, an office staffed with someone who could provide us with some direction. The door, however, was locked. We were not daunted. We knew we had to be close. After a short discussion, we deduced that the church must be located in behind, so we walked around the few row houses and discovered a small, arched, brick walkway. There inside, we saw the church. Chapel, actually. A tiny building tucked within a modest garden. Beautiful in its simplicity.
Once, in London, our ambitious desire to experience as much as we could outlasted our level of energy. No worries. We’d agreed, ahead of time, that we would walk until we could walk no more and then simply hail a taxi to get us to our next destination. This, we did.
After greeting our driver, we let him know to where we were headed.
“Trafalgar Square?” he repeated, whipping his head around in disbelief. “Well, you can walk to there faster than I can drive you.”
We understood, we told him. But we just needed to sit for a bit. He laughed and pulled back into traffic.
From our travels last year, what we discovered – from the places and the people and about ourselves – will long remain with us. We only hope there is more to learn in 2019.
(Note: Marjorie Appelman is an English, communications and journalism teacher at Mason County High School and co-founder of the travel blog, Tales from the Trip, which is also on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. She can be reached at [email protected].)
