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.
This is my current back drop as I move to write more about our trip around the world. I have been writing in chronological order as my anxieties and obsessive nature bids me to. I have so much more to write and I will. However, I should note here that while being back for five months has illuminated a deep nostalgia for this trip and sadness that we are currently rooted.
I am mourning for the road and the adventures we had there. It’s a bit odd because, it wasn’t that we did toursity things every day but, I suppose, because I feel most comfortable with these memories and find myself drifting back, walking down many of the cobblestone roads or squinting across the dusty verandas we saw. Now they weave in my memories every single day.
I find I feel more comfortable ‘over there’ in many ways. This is not because of all the politics happening now (although that can certainly effect it) and I was happily born here in the US and I was raised in a small, rural town in Southern Idaho. From an early age I looked at our atlas and traced my fingers over countries that I wondered about. 
Two days after my high school graduation I shot out of that small town and only made visits ‘back home’ after that. Currently, I am a person with no living parents and have siblings scattered in differing cities.
So, I don’t have large, encompassing family reunions or holidays where we have to strategize who we need to see and where to go. My in-laws connect with us (as you’ll continue to see in this post) when we have travelled and I think that would be the same if we left again. I happily see my siblings and their families but, it’s not in a giant coordinated effect. We all find our way in our own family travel plans. 
I built a lot of my life out of my experiences I had while being overseas starting at age 19. I have had my heartaches and delights. I see cups of coffee on brisk autumn days in small student flats furnished with mismatched furniture, piles of books, incense burning and still feel the desire to learn more or be well-read.
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.
One son has ‘bought in’ to my lifestyle and dreams of travel. He’ll clutch my arm when a screen saver moment flickers by on my screen saver that he too remembers. He’s sketching out plans for future trips for he and his friends with itineraries that make me envious. I am invited to join for now but, know that he will need to make his own journeys someday without mom in tow. And likely when he can pay for them on his own!
The other son endured our travels. An introvert who seeks time on his own, drawing, luxuriating in his imagination and being completely fulfilled by an afternoon of sliced apples and colored pencils.
He found the animals and tall buildings provocative but, dislikes anyone paying too close attention to him. Especially hard when you are a caucasian boy the blue eyes and a soft American accent in a place where there are not a lot of these kind of kids.
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.
The end of middle of May we left Norway to go to Ireland. We wouldn’t have likely chosen to fly to the United Kingdom the day before a royal wedding but, our Schengen Travel Visas were about to expire. This rule means that we, as American citizens (and many other none European passport holders), have 90 days within a 180 day period to spend in the 26 countries comprising the Schengen Area. 
It is not restricted to or inclusive of the EU countries either (22 of the 28 countries participate).
After all, we were coming from Norway which has strongly been outside of the EU but, joined this gathering of countries in order to find more ways to track travelers and, by default, migrants. Also, it creates more seamless borders in a geographic area that one could easily drive through seven countries on a weekend road trip.
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.
It makes sense, that they speak Irish rather than English for country with hundreds of years of conflict with its Eastern neighbor and erstwhile rulers.
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. I was certainly welcome to watch the marriage of one of the members of the British Royalty that oppressed his culture and country for hundreds of years and he hoped I had a good time but, he would clearly be doing something else that next morning. We said our cheery good nights and moved on.
The neighborhood was sweet and easy to navigate. We spent time wandering the coast line of the Dublin Bay. You could see the iconic smoke stacks that are present in many a U2 80s video. I heard they don’t use them anymore but, they signify Dublin so, they stay erect. 
We had two versions of our trip in Dublin. The first half with our in-laws and the second, the Gurr Original Four – Back to Basics. With my in-laws we enjoyed touring the city by bus and took a trip north out to Malahide to a lovely castle that had been in the same family for over 800 years. The cost of running a castle being what it is and not having descendants to pass it down to, the last owner passed it to at Trust to let it be shared with the community.
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.
We did the requisite trip to Temple Bar and wandered around the areas where live music spilled out of doorways as you ambled on the cobblestones. There are brightly painted doors here and there which startle you as you move along.
We were present in Ireland during the historic, national vote on the right to abortion services. While in the country you could not miss the signs everywhere proclaiming the pro or con of the vote outcome. Not only that, there were people knocking on doors (they even came to our Airbnb and walking the streets making sure everyone they passed had access to information about the vote.
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.
Also, that the law was so stringent that women who were experiencing a medical trauma could not have the procedure done to save their lives. So, the bios of women who have passed over the years were posted for all to see as were the arguments for keeping the status quo on accessibility.
The majority of the signs were for the Yes vote, the change. The vote ended with the majority of the country voting for change which now being implimented. A major change for this island country. 
The grandparents left in the middle of our stay. You can see the start of their flight journey below. The second part of our journey will be noted in the next post.
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!
education of our kids. I was really, really concerned that we would mess them up or get them really behind. I’ve expressed this on this blog and the sentiment takes up entirely too much space in my head.
Then add in the schooling and it is a whole new role. Yes, we have been teaching them since birth but, the structured approach of making sure the boys are ‘on track’ has been an interesting one.
With Kelvin and I, it doesn’t always work out as we are the only adults around to care for the kids but, that it is another post altogether.
Oakley’ Stats for 2017
So, we were at the Brisbane airport Jetstar check in counter (for the first time) and I hurriedly bought four tickets on a ferry to Singapore. I was punching the details of all our passports into my iPhone screen hoping that the credit card I am using would work to buy the tickets. And what’s more, that we will be able to use them.
In Bali, tourism accounts for about a third of the economy so, there is always someone to help you with your questions, desires or plans. That is certainly the case in Ubud.
That price tag smarts more for me than the pain of the shots, although, my sons will beg to differ.
The folks there were mostly great but, with each day new people had to be told what we were doing and I was beginning to feel like I was in a Groundhog Day movie.
A saint, the man is a saint.
I have never seen ourselves as people who home school their kids. We have always sought out the appropriate education philosophy for our boys and embraced our school as they plan for our kids.
d to research and seek out a way to investigate their question. The steps to find out the answer to their question has the child find out the place where one would learn about that interest.
I realize how much we depend on our schools to keep our kids ‘on track’ for their learning. It is their professional job! I am not a professionally trained teacher. Kelvin and I both have skills to share, like any parents but, the responsibility of being in charge of a year’s worth of eduction feels very daunting to me.
We already started a practice of writing in a small journal at the dinner table after our meal where we each write a little bit about the day. Oakley will write one sentence and Canyon a couple. Kelvin and I also write and we all check each other’s work. We generally write down what we are grateful for that day. Noting small, notable things that happened that day.
And an even bigger deal when we try to do it in three days in a country we haven’t driven in together (Kelvin was there on his own in 2001), driving on the ‘other side of the road’ for us Yanks and in a camping vehicle we have yet to rent or even select. The situation gave Kelvin and I some pretty funny conversations as we were trying to rationalize a mammoth drive to get in between locations for a place to stay.
It sounded good but, we were coming from Hawaii and wouldn’t be there for the first two days of her trip. She, again kindly, offered to make her trip work with ours so we can be her support and she ours.
It’s one thing to throw things in a backpack and dig out my passport but, an entirely different kettle of fish to be arranging four flights to another country with visa applications, baggage requirements, thoughts about timing, food accessibility, world schooling plans, accommodations and time changes for all of us.
Baby’s R Us with the crib my in-laws had bought us.
ckets that will transport our family to the other side of the planet.
I get caught in this struggle to find the ‘best’ place for my stuff. I think, ‘I really should sell that book’ rather than just give it away. So, then I get caught in the crosshairs of finding most economical solution and what is that, really? If I clean out the metaphorical cobwebs doesn’t that have a plus on my well-being?
Did you know you have to pay taxes on your rental income? Some of you are hitting your forehead with your hand and saying, ‘YES, I knew that!’.
leaving the country might overlook. I love the simplicity of their queries about ‘Are bathrooms available where we are going?’, ‘What is the likelihood shark attacks in Australia?’ to the far-reaching of ‘What if I miss my friends?’ and ‘Where will we sleep?’
All while understanding that trying to make other’s happy with our choices doesn’t always make us happy and ultimately we can’t control others opinions anyway.