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Blog 23: A New Chapter

Siena, Italy

Blog 23: A New Chapter

Manarola, Cinque Terre

            It has dawned on me that my six months abroad are coming to a close. These last few days I’ve been especially reflective and nostalgic. At random moments I’m reminded of someone I’ve met or someplace I’ve seen during my travels. I find at these times a ghost of a smile flickers across my face as I’m whisked back to those memories. Watching the sunset in Italy’s Cinque Terre reminds me of the brilliant Sahara with its endless golden dunes at daybreak. A group of girl’s uncontrollable laughter reminds me of friendships made in Spain. A lone backpacker staring out the window on a bus reminds me of all the people I met in Ireland and its raw, unspoiled beauty. Then I feel a rush of both happiness and sadness in the pit of my stomach. Part of me is feeling disappointed that the “great adventure” is over. Part of me is not ready to leave. There is a long list of “but I didn’t get to.” The Alps, Greece’s beaches, Croatia’s waterfalls, the Scotland highlands, Istanbul…the list goes on. There’s nothing more exciting than traveling to a place you’ve never been. The not knowing, the constant “what’s around the corner” is a sensation that isn’t replicable. But it’s not over…. it’s a new chapter. I feel incredibly blessed for having this experience and like I expressed before, studying abroad has taught me lessons about life and myself that can’t be taken away from me. I’m leaving Europe with a wealth of memories that I’ll never forget. And the greatest gift traveling has given me is the ability to finally accept myself for who I am. I’ve accepted that I’ll never be the “life of the party” girl that attracts people like fireflies to a lantern. I love meeting people and occasionally partying, but I also love curling up in bed with a good book. And I’ve stopped thinking that this means that I’m a boring and uninteresting person. If I tried to be this “life of the party” girl I used to idolize, then I wouldn’t be me. I’ve probably been told this a billion times, and rolled my eyes, but all you need to do is “be yourself.” It’s such a simple message, but easier said than done I know. Traveling finally made me realize this. The world is filled with 7 billion unique people with different personalities, cultures, languages, and ways of thinking. And we all have something special to offer.

Cinque Terre

            If there’s one thing I want to tell all of you it’s to get out there and explore. Don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Stumble over words when learning a new language, travel by yourself, and do something daring that would normally scare you. If you have an open mind and give it your all, I guarantee you won’t regret it. Make your travel experience a meaningful one.  So for me, this is not the ending of an adventure but rather the beginning of a new one. I’m not done seeing the world, but first I need to reconnect with family and friends, work hard, and save money. Being away from Hawai’i made me realize how much I love my home. Ocean, sand, surf, my ohana, and my friends…. yes it’s time to go back home.

Blog 22: Positano... La Dolce Vita

  Blog 22: Positano... La Dolce Vita

“Find your passion and go for it. Get out of your comfort and try new things because you are in a beautiful and magical place.”- Kayla and Crystal’s letter (from my message in a bottle)

            The stubborn glass finally shattered. Among the scattered shards, I carefully picked up the rolled up letter and began reading. No matter how old you get there will always be something childishly thrilling about finding a message in a bottle. I had found the wine bottle while kayaking with my family along the Amalfi Coast. When I fished it out of the water, I hadn’t realized that nestled deep inside the bottle was a letter. It wasn’t until we returned to shore that I finally discovered my “treasure.” I felt like I was five years old again. I violently shook the bottle and wedged my fingers inside trying in vain to fish the letter out. (We ended up having to break the bottle) Ironically, it was written by two University of Idaho students who had been studying architecture in Rome. They wrote a beautiful letter about their experience abroad telling the reader to follow their dreams. It has become my favorite souvenir from Positano.

            The village of Positano is peppered with romance. The location is idyllic with its resting place between the misty mountains and pebbled beaches of the Amalfi Coast. Sun drenched houses stack along the cliffs like a large, overextended family. Drying laundry lazily flaps in the wind from balconies. Among the crowded houses lies the cathedral with its dome of brilliant gold, green, and indigo. Below the village, the Mediterranean provides safe sailing for a small fleet of boats. And the faint fragrance of lemon is ever present (lemon trees flourish in this region).  Legend has it that the Greek Sea God Poseidon created Positano for a nymph who he desired. (The less romantic origin is that ancient Greeks settled here after fleeing from an outspread of malaria in nearby Paestum) In the past, Turkish pirates used to threaten to sack the village making it seem like a setting from a adventure storybook. Whether you’re a helpless romantic or the world’s biggest pessimist, it’s hard to not be seduced by Positano.

            Unfortunately Positano is flooded with honeymooners and wealthy tourists. The charm is somewhat diminished by the crowds. I tend to be a picky traveler and I hate feeling like I’m in the “Waikiki” of Italy. Yet I would still return to Positano in a heartbeat. If you’re willing to work a little harder and dig a little deeper, you can still experience the true Positano. Interacting with locals was one of my favorite parts of my stay. Firstly, I love listening to Italian. Italian has a sing-song sound and is delivered with an extra spark of expression. It always sounds like Italians are having the most fun, intriguing conversations. I also found most southern Italians to be exceptionally warm and friendly. They didn’t scoff when I butchered Italian words and the grandma running our hotel would pat me on the head like I was her own granddaughter. Family ties are strong in Southern Italy, which I found heartwarming and refreshing. While buying groceries at a family run store, we were worried that we didn’t have enough money to pay for all our food. We had started taking items out of the basket when the family running the place stopped us. “No problem! You pay later,” they told us. I didn’t know this kind of trusting nature still existed.

            But my best advice is to slow down the clock. Get lost roaming the narrow streets of the hill neighborhoods, sunbathe on the beaches, stare for more than a few minutes at the breathtaking scenery, and nurture a gelato in the sunlight. Embrace the Italian saying “la dolce vita” (the sweet life).

           

My message!

Blog 21: How to be a “Bad Ass” Solo Female Traveler

Taken from Pinterest

                          

Blog 21: How to be a “Bad Ass” Solo Female Traveler

“Traveling:  All you need is a destination, a backpack, enough clothes to not be mistaken as a hobo, an acceptance that you will most likely be broke after, and of course have an appetite for adventure!”- me

Inishmore

Had the Blackfort (Dún Duchathair) all to myself!

            There’s something that has been on my mind, and that’s traveling alone. When I compulsively bought my RyanAir ticket to Ireland, I had absolutely no plan and no friends joining. Rash…maybe. Adventurous…absolutely. I ignored the skeptics who had their reservations on women who traveled alone. Ladies, let’s just admit it. Not all but most of us have the tendency to need constant companionship (hell sometimes we even insist on traveling as a pack to the bathroom! ). From reading this blog you might get the idea that I’m fiercely independent. But I’ll be honest, I still feel insecure being in situations like eating in a noisy restaurant by myself. I still feel insecure when I see a couple cuddling along the cliffs of the Aran Islands. And it doesn’t help that I’m an introvert and making fast friends was never easy for me. So why did I decide to travel alone? Simple answer: I love challenging myself and I wanted to be more confident. Two weeks gallivanting around Ireland with no friends to latch onto seemed like the perfect prescription.

Taken from Pinterest

            There were certainly times when traveling alone where all I wanted was to pack my bag and call it quits. But more often there were those breathtaking moments where I felt life couldn’t get much better.  My all time favorite moment was going to a bar on Inishmore and talking with a young local guy and his two uncles for nearly two hours. I told them I was from Maui and we immediately began talking about island life. I love being among them, listening to them easily switch to Gaelic when it suited them. After they have me a ride home to my hostel. If I had been with a friend, this moment might have not happened. So here’s the punch line. More women need to feel confident enough to travel alone. Leave the boyfriend at home (just kidding!) and plan your next adventure. (It also doesn’t hurt that fellow travelers and people back at home will think you are pretty badass) To help you out here are my top five tip for first time solo travelers. Warning of caution, I’m not an expert on traveling alone but here’s some things I learned.

1) Choose an easy destination

Maybe ever since reading Eat, Pray, Love, you’ve been dreaming of exotic, balmy India. But remember to be realistic about you abilities as a first time traveler. Traveling alone is an art. Like any other skill, you're going to make mistakes your first time. I would recommend choosing a place a little less intimidating. Ireland was the perfect place for me. The people were so friendly and there was no language barrier.

2) Plan but don’t “Over Plan.” Be flexible!

            For me it was nice to have all my hostels booked before I arrived. I had an itinerary so I was never worried I’d be spending the night on a bird poop park bench (um no thank you!). But I also hadn’t expected Ireland to have a bus strike either. Luckily they postponed the strike but for a while I felt a little panicked I’d be stuck somewhere. I learned traveling doesn’t always run smoothly so you have to run with the tides. And don’t “over plan.” I hadn’t booked any tours or have a set schedule of activities when I arrived. This meant I was flexible if I met people who asked me if I wanted to join them on some activity. Which leads me to….

3) Hostels vs Hotels

I’m a poor college student, so there was no option but hostel. Personally I love hostels (bed bugs and all! Just kidding please do your research on websites like hostelworld) Hostels are always teeming with young backpackers and so it’s an easy place for solo travelers to make friends. So be outgoing and put yourself out there!

4) Better Safe than Sorry

            There are a few horror stories about traveling alone as a women. This should not make you afraid to leave your room at night and prevent you from having fun. However, do use common sense at all times. Most importantly, don’t overdrink! You will not be making smart choice after one too many pints of Guinness… and nobody will be looking out for you.

5) Embrace being alone

            Fact: You will get lonely traveling alone. But think about it this way, back home you have friends and family waiting for you. Relish the silence because it’s a rare gift nowadays. It gives you time to think and learn about yourself. In between the silence however, make new friends and memories! I had some of the best moments of my life while traveling alone. I learned that you are never really alone. Company is out there, you just have to go out and seek it. 

Words of inspiration

Blog 20: The Craic in Doolin

O'Brien's Tower

Blog 20: The Craic in Doolin

* No, I have not gotten involved in a European drug deal. “Craic” is an Irish slang for “good times” or “fun.” So the title could be translated to: Good times in Doolin. If anybody from Ireland is reading this (which I assume there are because of my demographics) I’m sorry if I’m using this word incorrectly/awkwardly!

Illegally at the edge of the cliffs...shhh don't tell!

            The Cliffs of Moher has become a natural theme park. I watch from higher ground as tourists swarm like bees from the parked tour buses. The silently majestic beauty is somewhat lost as hundreds of cameras begin flashing. I’m not sure if I would have been impressed with the Cliffs of Moher if I’d been among this mob. Luckily, my gaze had been fixated on this natural masterpiece for the past hour. When I first arrived at the cliffs, there wasn’t a tourist in sight. So I had time to take in the cliffs and all the beauty surrounding her by myself. There’s a wall that prevents people from getting too close to the edge of the cliff. I was feeling in a “rebellious” mood and hopped the wall to take in the view as dramatically as possible. Now I’m not saying you should be reckless, but every once in awhile it’s fun to spice life up with a little danger. The cliffs looked like a row of dominos from where I stood. Below waves crashed and gulls soared in kamikaze fashion. For a moment I wished I could trade places with one of these birds. If you ever have the opportunity to see the Cliffs of Moher, I recommend going before 9:30 am to beat the crowds. Your reward for waking up early is solidarity and peace while looking at those beautiful, dramatic cliffs.

Perfect reading location

            After admiring the cliffs and O’Brien's Tower, I hiked back down to Doolin. It took me about 3 hours (but I kept stopping along the way to stare at the breathtaking views). Along the way were herds of sheep, cows, and horses grazing in green pastures. I stopped at one unreal lookout to have a picnic (cheap sandwich) and read a book I brought with me. It was a lovely thirty minutes before I was chased away by looming clouds (typical Ireland).

Foolin in Doolin

            The town of Doolin was the perfect place to spend four days exploring the coast of County Clare. Out of all the places I’ve traveled to in the past five months, I felt most at home in places like Dingle and Doolin. It was a lot like the simple life we live on Maui. The special thing about Doolin though is that it used to be the mecca of traditional Irish music. Traditional Irish music flourished in this little town making it a little treasure for music lovers. Now tourists have ruined its authenticity but sometimes you get lucky with a good “session.” Luck seemed to be on my side because a popular local band, Foolin in Doolin, was playing the night I was in town. The small bar was packed with locals and tourists. An Austrian girl from my hostel and I were able to get a table up front. There were three musicians. The first was an older man with a flat cap and a face wrinkled probably from smiling too much. The second held a banjo and had stereotypical flaming red hair. And the last looked like he’d just finished filming Braveheart. He was tall and broad with wild, black hair that flowed to his shoulders. In his hand was Uilleann pipes (traditional Irish bagpipes) Together they were quite a sight. Irish music is usually jaunty and bouncy. It tempts you into tapping you foot along with the lightening fast rhythm. I like Irish music, but after awhile it sounds like one long continuous jig. The Austrian girl (a little hippy) however was getting really into it. She closed her eyes and started swaying while doing some crazy, yoga-like hand movements. Then an older woman started doing a jig along with the music. People started whooping and hollering. Observing all this craziness, I thought to myself “well this sure beats college dorm parties.” I’d say my stay in Doolin was quite the craic.

Blog 19: There’s a Silver Lining in Every Cloud

Views along the bike trek

The hike to Conor's Pass

 Blog 19: There’s a Silver Lining in Every Cloud

            My thighs felt like Jell-o as I tried to bike myself up the steepest hill yet on our 35km trek along the Dingle Peninsula. Maybe all that bread and olive oil I had gorged on in Spain was catching up to me. A sense of accomplishment passed through me when I finally made it to the top. But the elation quickly vanished. It was then that I realized that my bike had been in a high gear the WHOLE time (face palm moment). Of course my friend found this hilarious because we were only 5kms to the end of our journey. Maybe attempting a 35 km bike trek after a year of not stepping on a bike wasn’t the brightest idea.

Blasket Islands

            After exploring Dublin, I made my way to the wild, western coast of Ireland. Dingle, An Daingean in Irish, is a small town in County Kerry. Unfortunately this little town has been discovered by the tourist industry, but you can still find pockets of charm in the town despite the high number of foreigners. The hostel that I was staying in, The Hideout Hostel, was exactly what I had been hoping for. It was quaint, clean and felt more like a home than a hostel. But the best part about it was the people I met at the hostel. Looking back now, I was very lucky to have found such good company. One awesome person I met was an Austrian guy at my hostel who was also traveling alone. We ended up being travel buddies for the next few days. Our first adventure was a 35km bike trek along the Slea Head Drive (80km by car). It took us nine hours (only 3-4 hrs biking) but it was worth the extra effort. The Dingle Peninsula holds a rough, unpolished beauty. There were craggily cliffs, deep green fields dotted with grazing sheep, and the Blasket Islands spread out before you. Along the way we stopped at ancient stone houses called beehive huts, the Gallarus Oratory (a 1300 year old Christian church), and the Great Blasket Visitor Centre . Of the three of these, only the Great Blasket Visitor Centre was worth the entrance fee. The story of Blasket Islands is actually pretty remarkable. People lived on these windswept islands despite the extremely harsh living conditions. It was one of the few places in Ireland where Gaelic was still spoken and written. Although Irish students are required to spend several years in school learning Gaelic, many people never become fluent speakers. It sadly reminds me of the Hawaiian language because Gaelic was discouraged from being taught by the British for a long time and so the language was lost for many generations. The island was evacuated in 1953 because it became too difficult to live there but the story of the Blasket Islands lives on thanks to memoirs written by islanders. You can just see the hardship the islanders faced painted on their faces (there were many pictures in the visitors center). And you can also appreciate how deeply attached they were to their islands.

Living on the edge

            Of the entire journey, here’s my favorite moment. We stopped at this beautiful lookout on the side of the road where you have the view of Blasket Islands spread right out in front of you. There was a rain cloud looming overhead so we walked down the cliff, seeking shelter under a jutted out rock (the perfect Irish umbrella). There was this feeling of remoteness and peace as we waited for it to stop drizzling. No cars were in eyesight, and there was no more than five feet of rock separating us from a shear drop into the Atlantic. The only sound was the rhythmically crashing waves and the wind whistling past. Gulls soared along the cliffs, landing near us.  It was like time stopped and the busyness of life seemed to be miles away. Sometimes in today’s hectic, materialistic world it’s easy to forget to pause and enjoy the simple gifts life gives us like the company of a newfound friend, fresh air, or a patch of sunlight on a cloudy day.

Some cool solo travelers I met

            To my surprise, I felt a wave of sadness when I left the Dingle Peninsula. I’m not usually an emotional person, but traveling alone has been like riding an emotional rollercoaster. As a first time solo traveler, you’ll probably experience what I’m describing. You hit ultimate highs where you feel like life couldn’t get much better and then suddenly you hit rock bottom. The worse part is that there’s no emotional support from a companion when you’re going through these waves of feelings. But as my Austrian friend would have probably told me at that moment, there's a silver lining in every cloud. If I hadn’t been traveling alone I might have not gotten to know all the people that I did in Dingle. And as I caught my last glimpse of Dingle on the bus, I realized I have so many great memories of Dingle that I'm taking away with me.

Dingle Harbor

Blog 18: Jack Johnson in a Dublin Pub

Blog 18: Jack Johnson in a Dublin Pub

            *Sorry I’m falling behind on blogging so this will be a longer update.

            Let me share one of my favorite experiences abroad so far. So I was sitting at a pub in Dublin, having a Guinness with this French guy I met.  I happened to make eye contact with the young musician playing in the bar and he yelled out, asking me where I was from. When I told him I was from Hawai’i he gave me a grin and said, “Let me play you a Jack Johnson song then.” After spending the past four months away from home, it made me feel all warm and giddy hearing Jack Johnson. The easy breezy, oh so familiar lyrics whisked me back to home. For a moment I felt like I was in the car with my dad, driving out to Ukumehame for a surf. But no I was in an Irish pub in Dublin being serenaded…so I’m not complaining!

            I spent four days wandering in the lively city of Dublin. As soon as I stepped out of Dublin airport, I was blasted with crisp air. That’s the first thing I learned about Ireland. There’s no point to a weather report. One minute your sitting on a park bench drenched in sunlight then suddenly hail is falling from the sky. And it’s already May! It is no wonder Ireland is nicknamed the Emerald Isle because it rains almost everyday of the year. But despite the somewhat depressing weather, the Irish are the most friendly and downright hilarious people I’ve met. Playful banter and singing at the top of your lungs seems to be a national sport. Pubs in the Temple Bar area are jammed packed with people during the weekends. They are like typical bars expect they have more character and charm. There’s something very lovely about stepping out of the biting wind and into the warm belly of a pub. Everything is warmly lit and has a welcoming, rustic look. Friends gather in groups laughing and singing. And there are Guinness beers (basically all you drink in Ireland) all around. In nearly every pub there are musicians playing and singing so that the room is bursting with music! I have a special love for live music so I was in heaven. People clap, cheer, dance and sing along to their favorite Irish tunes. I felt like I was part of a huge family.

            Dublin is also the hub for Irish history. Ireland didn’t gain its independence from Great Britain until 1921. Then it suffered from a civil war after disagreements about being a free state with counties that are today known as Northern Ireland. During this time, Dublin became a battlefield. Many historic buildings in Dublin were taken by the rebels and the streets of Dublin were bombed. Irish heroes like Michael Collins were killed in order to give Ireland the freedom that it has today. It’s a very complicated history but every Irish person that I’ve met has had great pride in their country because of how hard and long they had to fight to achieve independence. 

But there is also immense beauty in Dublin despite an ugly past. One of my personal favorite sights in Dublin is Trinity College’s Old Library. As the most prestigious college in Ireland, Trinity College has a beautiful campus and one of the most gorgeous libraries I’ve seen. It also holds the Book of Kells, which is old Gaelic scriptures written by monastic monks about 1000 years ago. The preservation it takes to keep these books from turning into dust is impressive. The writing looked too perfect to be drawn by humans and I couldn’t help think how much patience it must have taken to inscribe these books. The words are beautifully drawn and crafted with intricate artwork that frames the words. It’s had the perfect blend of simplicity, since this is a religious text, and extravagance worth marveling over.  These drawings are so detailed that it looks like something only magic could produce. The Old Library at Trinity was equally mesmerizing. You enter and all the knowledge in the world seems to be surrounding you. There are millions of books filling the bookcases (there were two stories) and busts of the great philosophers, scientist and writers along the walkway. It was truly like being encased in a sea of knowledge. Apparently when George Lucas saw this library he was instantly inspired and tried to recreate this library in one of the scenes in Star Wars. I had to sit on a bench in the library for a moment while taking it all in. Ireland certainly knows how to seduce a girl.

Guinness!

Trinity College

Trinity College

Streets of Dublin