Ireland…seems appropriate to wander in our minds there especially on such an auspicious holiday such as St. Patrick’s Day. The world over, this holiday is known. Known for beer, for green, whether you are wearing it or looking at 
it and for leprechauns or maybe more distantly for green rolling hills.Â
I am thinking of the grand, welcoming time we had in Dublin on our trip. After the in-laws winged their way back to the States, our family was back to the budget balance of the four of us on the road again. We moved from a spacious Airbnb town house in the suburbs to a room in a hostel. Likely the smallest living space we were in on our entire trip.Â
The room had two bunk beds and cages for our belongings like giant, chain link drawers under the bottom bunk. 
The kitchen as a flood of pleasant travelers, school groups and individuals finding their way around the chaos to find a slice of toast and half of a banana. A single jar of Nutella was passed around like a precious gem among around 20 people. We were lucky, as we had a small shower and toilet attached to our room.Â
So, while our living space shrunk considerably we are now in the middle of the city. Right outside our building, just steps away from vibrant door fronts, bright stores and cobblestones.
We were also treated the sounds of others celebrating the beauties of Ireland late at night or early in the morning as they drunkenly sang praises as they hobbled home. 
In the next days we experienced many wonderful gems. Including, the Long Room at Trinity College Dublin.
I had been before on my 30th birthday and loved it so much I have had a framed picture of it on my walls ever since. The boys noted the familiar view as we emerged at the end of the installations on the Book of Kells. All thoughtfully placed and accentuated by emerging in the great room.Â
We picnicked on the green grounds with college students and admired the near by sculptures in the warming sun. All while learning more about the momentous vote coming up for Ireland. 
We wandered into a music store and meet Francois (unusual name to encounter in Dublin, assured). He let the boys try any and all instruments in his store.
While I was trying to round in the boys he encouraged them to try more. It was a good lesson for me to learn more about letting kids try things out and learn rather than keep things in order. 
Francois (a Frenchman living in Ireland for several years now) invited us to join his ukulele class. We made a promise to return and went out to another appointment.
Later that evening we returned and there he was all set for us with loaner ukuleles and several other class members.Â
One a 70+ Dublin woman who’s wonderful lilt had me cocking my head so I could truly understand her. Other folks from Ireland as well as a couple of Malaysian women who were currently living in Ireland.
We had a lovely lesson in this sunny room lit by the setting spring sun. It was delightful. Had we not been short on space (only our backpacks) we might have actually bought a ukulele. 
We also visited Little Museum of Dublin  of Dublin . This museum experience notes some of the most important historical events in Dublin and Irish history.
Especially some of the more modern events and folks such as an entire room on U2. The tour is entertainment in itself involving members of the group and with grand personality.Â
The group was smallish (about 25) which made it more welcome for the shorter members of our group (read – crowd adverse Oakley). We would wholeheartedly recommend going to this museum to have an amazing view of Dublin to color your trip.Â
Afterward, we wandered in St. Stephen’s Green Park which has soft green places to enjoy as well as many historical markers of Dublin’s history.
This park is, amazingly, over 400 years old, is like an oasis in the middle of the city. It has had many wandering and protecting its green treasures for decades but, many be best known to many as the place for the Easter Rising of 1916 when a ferocious battle happened in the park over four days marking Ireland fighting for independence from British rule. 
Very powerful to walk around and see where people were actually bunkered down and fighting.Â
We enjoyed our time as the city was warming up with sun and people were very friendly. We did some maintenance work such as Kelvin getting a haircut and a beard trim, all with a complimentary beer.Â
We came back to our room one evening planning our bags and next day’s plans as we would have to check out of the hostel before our ferry left the following late afternoon. We got a notification that our ferry to Wales was rescheduled due to weather for either the next morning at 8am or the next evening at 8pm. Yikes!
We were not totally prepared for the change. Also, a good friend was going to pick us up on the Wales side and we wanted to give him some notice in his busy life about the changes. 
So, we packed up and prepped to leave in the wee hours of the morning so, we could get there by the time the ferry would sail. That meant finding a ride early on Sunday morning (6am!) to the dock. Bumping in a ride share car in the early hours of Sunday in Dublin was a very quiet and peaceful journey.Â
Of course, we did it! We made that ferry. Don’t you worry. Those adventures to continue in the next missive.Â
We currently live near the Portland airport and the Portland Air National Guard is based there. There are many moments throughout the day when you can hear the rumble of planes flying overhead. A deep rumble, almost as if the sky has hunger pains or feeling that there is thunder on the horizon and it’s audible for all.
From ages 19-25 I spent three years overseas. They say your prefrontal cortex, your critical thinking part of your brain, doesn’t fully form until you are 25 so, I suppose I did a lot of my first adult thinking navigating different experiences outside the US. Maybe that is why I still seek it. It is hardwired in my brain.
In any case, I am reliving my adventures here as they soothe my soul and inspire me to plan more and now, with the added intention of exposing my kids to their future adventures.
And so, I write to make sure I do my due diligence in documenting our adventure but, also for me to continue to feel connected to its story which is many people’s story. In our iteration or someone else’s. This is our story. Thank you for reading. It helps me keep it alive.
We had reached day 90 (with a lot of planning and foresight mind you) by landing in Ireland. Ireland, along with the all of the UK does not take part in the Schengen Area. That meant for us, that our travel clock started over by the tracking of Irish and later, British authorities. They generally allow a six month visa.
This doesn’t mean they don’t also ask a lot of questions at the Irish border. We flew in from Oslo with Kelvin’s parents. We shuffled and waited in a library-quiet big hall as they inspected our passports while we gazed at the new signs naming everything in English and ‘the Irish’ which we outsiders might know more as Gaelic.
We rented an Airbnb in Clontarf, a friendly suburb north of Dublin City Center from where we could easily catch the bus into the city. Our time in Dublin was timed with the Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan.
I, being a bit of a romantic royal watcher loved the idea of watching my first royal wedding in the same time zone as it was happening. Having drug myself out of bed in the middle of the night for these royal affairs starting when I was 11 years old in 1981 to watch Diana and Charles marry on a grainy, definitely not a High Definition screen TV back in Idaho.
I told this excitedly to our Irish hosts as they settled us into our place. He responded with a wit and tone that slightly insults and grounds me in a way that various Celtic tones can.
We had two versions of our trip in Dublin. The first half with our in-laws and the second, the Gurr Original Four
It was beautiful fully furnished and delightful to wander around it and had it’s share of ghost stories told by the animated guides a long the way. The northern area outside Dublin is really quite lovely to see and the seaside makes for nice views and wanders along as you see the tide change the view dramatically.
The vote was establishing access to abortion services for citizens for the first time ever. Information showed that tens of thousands would travel to Great Britain every year to be able to make this medical choice.
In the meantime, hello again and get ready for more posts to come that introduce you too some amazing folks who helped shape the last chapters of this round the world trip and let you know this family is not done moving around outside of our comfort zone and see new things and learn more about others and, in turn, about ourselves.
So, thanks again for reading and stay tuned!
Norway is a beautiful country…deep blue fjords, mountains stretching up to the clouds, roads that wind through green and pleasant landscapes. One thinks of the Vikings and the ancient history of the Norge folks and their forays out beyond their borders to other lands.
The older kids end their Russe Busse at 11am when the parades start (see previous blog). The parades march around the neighborhoods and town and city centers all over the county.
Oakley was particularly excited and was sure that the King had waved directly to him as the entire royal family came out on the balcony.
After the royal courtyard experience and watching over 100,000 people proudly milling around we went for a luncheon at our friends Brita and Eva’s house. They had been preparing for this meal for a week.
A true smorgasbord of delights as well as a lazy afternoon of snacking, wine sipping and light napping before we found our way back to Marianne and Tore’s house on public transport packed with others finding their way around in their nice dress as sated smiles. It was a sleepy, peaceful commute home.
I am back ‘home’ in Portland but, still my soul is floating around the earth. We have returned to our hometown and are putting down roots again….phone contracts, bought a used car, set up utility accounts and kids are now at Montessori but, we aren’t done with this journey or the next steps.
Oslo and they both offered advice, homes, meals and warm welcomes to our travel queries.
My Norwegian friends offered to do a little genealogy research for us and when she presented us with an 80 page document before we arrived of all she found we were blown away.
She had recently opted to not run for reelection to the Norwegian parliament but, gave us intimate access to the Parliament and a tour I am sure you could not ‘book’ anywhere else.
All while high school equivalent students were running around the city in their flight suits and tricked out buses celebrating their transition to adulthood. Its called Russebuss and it is a fascinating tradition.
So, anyway…..family history found us driving (well Kelvin driving, really. We just all cheered him on from the back seat) for what seemed like 100s of miles and hours and hours.
SINGLE TIME!.
You will love it if you go and do get out of Oslo, lovely city yet, there is so much to this enormous by European standards country.
This includes celebrations of street fairs, music, food and drink but, it also has what could possibly be the worlds largest swap market/yard sale.
new house sitting assignment in La Trappe. It was daylight savings time and our host graciously picked us up at the nearest bus station a 50 minute drive away from their farm and at 5:30 (really 4:30!) in the morning.
On this trip, we try to be as economical as possible while we move around the globe. That means trying to find the cheapest way across a country. The bus to SW France felt like a red-eye flight but, we recovered soon enough.
I was completely mesmerized by the convenience, cleverness and cheekiness of vending machines in the French countryside that sold baguette. It was funny, as sometimes you might find competing companies with machines within several hundred yards of each other but, then none for many, many miles.
In all our travels around the world, France was the place lest likely to find someone who spoke English. Or was at least willing to speak English with us. We would ask (in French) if they spoke English and they all, every single one, said ‘no’. They could a little but, didn’t want to be thought of as having a good command of the language or so we think.
three weeks with just the four of us for company. We really enjoyed our hosts (English retirees) when they returned.
goodness for Google Translate!
activities outside of those official time frames. Too bad!!
Paris is a beautiful city and what the world mostly thinks of when one thinks of France, however, most resident people we met have either never been there or have only been once or twice. There are many rich and thriving cultural experiences outside of the capital.
chickens, sneaky cats and a lovable dog named Zara in a 200-year-old farm-house.
We arrived in Brussels on a blustery March day after a daylong journey from Hamburg, Germany via Koln. It is delightful to experience the German precision timing of the trains complete with markings to let you know exactly where you need to get on your train compartment.
Our continuing world schooling agenda was punctuated by a visit to the 
We had been doing this for awhile. Learning please, thank you and the first 10 numbers whenever possible. In Belgium, my effort stalled when we met French speakers as my French is very, very, very, very weak but, folks were very accommodating to my Dutch.
Ahhh, it was delightful. The sampled frites, organic markets, gorgeous chocolate and sumptuous coffees not to mention the beers. Connecting with long time friends and hopefully, creating some connections for our kids in making friends that I hope will last their life times. That is part of the purpose of this trip.
I learned things I never knew before or at the least expanded on my limited knowledge about Hamburg.
As we wandered around with our walking guide we learned another extraordinary fact was that Hamburg was bombed relentlessly during the 2nd world war. So much so that bombing raids in July 1943 by the Royal Air Force killed over 43,000 civilians and injuring 37,000 more with another million having been evacuated after the raids. It virtually destroyed the city.
Anyway, like the rest of us…Hamburg is much more than it’s worst story and we did find this city to be delightful. Even though many buildings were destroyed there were a lot of unique structures to explore.
The farm was the home to a couple who taught us a lot about Danish Hygge. One who worked part-time as a butcher and the other a foot and physical therapy (not to be mixed!). 
Their farm-house was nearly 140 years old, had two floors and easily six bedrooms. Wonderous views from each direction through windows and skylights showed us the ever-changing sky.
dozen chickens including five roosters, three of which became dinner…more on that later. 
After months of being in tropical weather and convinced we would not have a ‘regular’ winter we were treated to several winter storms, snow flurries and downright blizzards. We were overjoyed to make snowmen, slide on some ice and have snowball fights. I was more an observer but, we all very much enjoyed it.
We consumed cup after cup of coffee or tea several times a day and often pared them with Danish baked goods found in neighboring villages. We had farm fresh eggs (up to 12 a day!) as well as dark, thick bread that after toasted only needed a smear of butter to become a slice of heaven.
We had been away from a fully supplied kitchen and we relished in having the ability to make breakfast, lunch and dinner on site, warm ourselves by the fireside while wearing the handmade wooly socks made by our host. Can you say Hygge? Ib and Ann offered up all their coats, boots, gloves, hats, scarves (even a Gryffindor one much to Oakley’s delight) and overalls as well as their car to supply us with the tools to journey around the property and the Island of Fyn.
Our experience with the Danes as a people was also warming. They won’t walk up to you to introduce themselves in grocery store, however, once introduced they proved to be some of the warmest, friendliest people I’ve ever met.
Day One, Tuesday: We woke up in Sihanoukville, Cambodia. 
We had been staying at a nicer hotel as we had been traveling hard for a while. We decided to let ourselves stay in a place a bit nicer than our normal choices. Meaning, we had predictable hot water and the beds were blessedly soft and fluffed with clean duvets. We had some more room and there were not as many unpredictable bugs visiting us.
knowing it would be nearly the last of our tropical weather. 
We got a ride in a van to the bus terminal which doubled as a cafe’ on the side of the road. Our bus was leaving from Sihanoukville at 8:30pm. The sun was down as we climbed onboard our overnight bus to Siem Reap.
For about $25 a person it was not a bad way to travel North through Cambodia in the dead of night.
We departed at 8:30am for Bangkok, Thailand. This bus goes through the notorious Poi Pot border crossing from Cambodia into Thailand. The border crossing is a bit easier this way as we didn’t have to get a visa before going through passport control. However, it is still an assault on the senses and having sensory sensitive kids it was especially so.
It was hard, sweaty and dusty but, we did it. Each stop from passport control to the next is outside in the city along camps of people with outstretched hands offering or asking us many things.
We dug out our the Thai Baht we had saved and bought fresh snacks. We were coming in on 19 hours of travel. The bus driver dropped us not far from the hotel we booked in Bangkok near the airport.
Day Three, Thursday: A rest day in Thailand. A good friend from back home Grace came to hang out with us for the afternoon. 
This is after Kelvin ended up cooking our eggs and breakfast for us at the restaurant as they were, seemingly, short on staff.
It was the start of the Lunar New Year so many fireworks exploded through the night as we tried to sleep.
We flew from Bangkok, Thailand to Abu Dhabi, in the United Arab Emirates in seven hours on Etihad Airlines.
All wiped down with tissues seeking nafarious substances. We had a short layover and then took off for London. Another seven hours in the air.
Our plane held 496 passengers and 22 staff. Our row was ten seats across with two aisles and was a double-decker with a staircase and business class in what I read were actual beds. When we landed it felt like a barely a bump.
Our ride from the airport cost more than seven days of accommodation in Cambodia. Jet lagged and chilly we counted the hours we were awake (24) and fell into the comfy and clean beds of our friends house was we were nuzzled by their two kitties.
Day Six, Saturday: We woke up before the sun to gather our belongs one more time and shuttled off to Luton Airport. We had an interesting ride through the fog gazing out at the hills reaching for green as we wheeled past.
After boarding a Ryan Jet flight by trudging up the stairs in the icy wind from the tarmac we bid goodbye to Britain for a while. We winged our way to Copenhagen, Denmark. We found our way to the train connections to bring us to the Danish village we were going to  stay.
Wincing, we found our alternative train and trundled towards our destiny on the Island of Fyn to the town to Nyborg where our host was patiently waiting for us as we disembarked some nearly two hours later.
What followed was an amazing Danish farm experience. That will be documented on my next post.