Travel….I dream about it nearly all the time. I think of places I’ve been and reminisce and then the places I want go and plan imaginary itineraries.
On our trip around the world, we accomplished a lot of ‘bucket list’ goals and we went to some new to us places that have found their way into our ‘must return’ list.
And so we journey to Wales…Not that I had didn’t want to go before. It just wasn’t in the cards. When we embraced on our journey I did a shout out to all my friends overseas that I had worked, studied or connected with and in this instance Duncan opened up his heart, home and called us to Wales.
Duncan I worked in London years ago for a liberal arts college study abroad program called Beaver College – Center of Education Abroad (now called Arcadia University ) when we both lived the dream of helping other college age students study abroad. I would convince, guide and prepare them Stateside and Duncan and his colleagues would welcome, orient and advise them.
I worked with universities in Scotland, England and our program in Greece and had the distinct pleasure of accompanying 120 20 year olds a couple times a year to Great Britain. That was a plane ride to remember. Talk about a great job!
Anyway, flash forward nearly twenty years and Duncan had moved to Wales with his three girls and is now working as an outdoor educator and guide. He works as a photographer and we popped by one of his exhibits to admire his clean, sharp images.
We traveled to Holyhead on the ferry from Ireland on a rough but, sunny sea day. We wandered through the port with a hen party (for Americans – read Bachelorette) and a group bent on attending a local football match. We had a full Irish breakfast onboard and excitedly landed in Great Britain.
Duncan piled us and our bags in his car and drove us through this green, hilly wonderland of Wales to his home in Llanberis, in Gwynedd, at the foot of Snowdon the highest peak in Wales. 
After spending time in the smallest dorm room of our trip in Dublin. His picturesque village was a welcome hobbity wonder. Duncan’s daughters ages 17, 15 and 12 were all busting with character and energy as we marched through fields with sheep to see the history of slate. 
They all spoke Welsh which is the language all schools are taught in. It’s a lilting hard to categorize language that was intriguing to listen to. Duncan told us how they all had moved from London six years previously and had no Welsh to speak of.
The school district would then arrange for immersive lessons for the older girls, picking them up and submersing them in the language for weeks before eventually integrating them into the schools. 
Their youngest was about six at the time of the move and just got plunked down in the school and where she immediately was taught in Welsh. Such is the love and commitment of the Welsh to keep their language alive and all encompassing the government has made this a priority. 
Now his girls can have complete conversations around him and their mom and the non native Welsh speaking grown ups don’t always know what they are talking about. It’s like they have a secret power or identity. Adults who move here have to pay for their own lessons. Welsh is strong with the younger generation! 
This village was the home to the lake Llyn Padarn which has the folk lore of being the lake that the Lady was in. This being the King Arthur lore. You can even take a try to pull the giant sword out of the stone on it’s banks. Snowdonia National Park entrance was a walk from his flat.
Also, nearby is the National Slate Museum and before you crinkle your eyes at the thoughts of seeing a museum of stone hold your thought. This museum was interactive and educational along with giving one the perspective of how hard the peoples’ lives were when this was the ‘good job’ in the 1800s and 1900s. The 
fifty-foot waterwheel was worth a view itself.
Children would work for 10-15 hours a day starting around the age of 10 and then when they got old enough they would be able to get paid even. The health concerns be damned these hardy quarrymen were told that the slate dust would make their lungs stronger. Spoiler. It didn’t. 
And the quarry was finally shuttered in 1969 shortly after the Prince of Wales visited. The old hospital can be visited and the medical method reviewed might make you rethink your current health regime. 
We would wander around the village which bustles with folks coming or going into the natural areas nearby. Hiking, climbing, mountaineering, walking and even scuba diving in 90 foot, two mile long lake. We swam in these brisk waters and felt refreshed.
One day we piled in the car to go to Nyfyn, a village located in what looks like the pointing hand of Wales in the NW for a festival where his oldest daughter Izzy was performing in a drumming band.
We got to witness a village fair where kids get dressed up in their finest dresses and a small parade will worm it’s way through the streets to gathering of food, chatting and a bouncy castle. The drumming was excellent.
Driving back the roads were so narrow, Kelvin joked about doing ‘high fives’ with our mirrors on the passing cars. It was beautiful, winding and honestly a delightful dream. 
More than once we explored Dolbadarn Castle which was built by Llywelyn the Great around seven hundred years ago in around 1220s. The castle is mostly in ghostly, beautiful ruins that you can freely wander and climb around. Duncan taught my kids how to climb through the old ‘poop’ chutes of old. Ah, now that is a good friend!
Oakley was smitten with Duncan and his easy ways and comfortable nature. Duncan give us shelter and friendship for the week we were there. It was a warm and welcoming to Great Britain.
We decided that Wales has one of the coolest flags on the planet and this little country packs has a seductive allure that makes me want to return and discover more beautiful Welsh villages. We were hooked and we fell in love with Wales and so grateful to have such a warm, welcoming landing in Britain. 
After a week we packed up to Bangor to go North to our next house sit. Onward to Scotland but, before a big ‘diolch’ to Duncan and his family.
it and for leprechauns or maybe more distantly for green rolling hills.
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.
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 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.
Later that evening we returned and there he was all set for us with loaner ukuleles and several other class members.
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.
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.
Very powerful to walk around and see where people were actually bunkered down and fighting.
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!
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.
Of course, we did it! We made that ferry. Don’t you worry.
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.
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.
The people, the landscape, the resources and the kindness.
I read once that you shouldn’t go to the hardest place of travel at the end of your journey because you’ll be too tired. Well, we didn’t know how tired we had become.
There are also beggars, ogglers and whatever you-havers. It can be pretty intense, especially if you are just over four feet tall and don’t look like a local.
consistency and stability.
chickens, cows, roadside fires and potholes. An adventure in the journey.
We rode an overnight bus to Sihanoukville to stay in a place run by Russian women who have picked up and started over in Cambodia. It was clean and comfortable but, there was the undercurrent of the sex trade there. Women around for the ‘weekend girlfriend experience’ with Chinese and Indian businessmen.
and it was a bit depressing. These men were on a business trip having the ‘bonus’ of the company of local women. It is hard to wrestle with as I can only imagine this transaction might benefit their family but, it was hard to blithely witness.
The Cambodian coast is full of people trying to make a living. Wanting to fulfill your every need. Do you need your nails trimmed? Do you need your legs shaved? Do you need a snack? Do you need a drink? Do you need a new wrap for the sun? Any of these issues or perhaps something you had no idea you were in need of. It is hard to say no but, also hard if you say yes as all others will think you are game for trade.
While waiting for our boat we saw the most basic toilet and an ice man the likes of Hans from Frozen loading ice blocks for the food establishments tourists would frequent. On our island that has no roads only scooters, wagons or good ol’ elbow grease carry your bags, supplies and goods.
Our experience was on the Island of Koh Rong. We stayed in a bungalow on a beach. You could walk to a nearby village but, the beaches were cleanest at our place where locals would comb the sand twice a day to pick up stray litter that washed ashore. I became even more aware of how important it is to recycle in our everyday life as plastics showed up on the hour. It is hard to imagine what an impact we might have on the environment when you are picking through plastic pieces while walking into the water.
Small sparks of light explode around your fingers and they comb through the warm water. It is magic. It is mind-blowing. Activation of phosphorus plankton is the scientific explanation but, I still call it magic. Because the secondary light is so minimal it is stunning. This close to the equator the sun sets so quickly too. You are in darkness in less time than it takes to drain a local can of beer.
The rest of the days on the island were restful yet, imprinted with the awareness that so many locals nearby were living on so little. It is an odd equation. Do you help by being a tourist?
and comfort. I had a topsy belly for many a day and it wasn’t until our trip around to Western Europe that I settled again.
I am incredibly grateful for this amazing experience. I am so curious to see what our boys will recall from these colorful, intense, filled days and nights.
Bangkok is the most popular place in the world for 
wonder that there are a zillion of blogs and suggestions of places to go there.
In our journey there we found joy in the 
Our host PD (her name is moon in Thai) was amazed to see the main monk there. She said she had goose bumps on her arm as if seeing a favorite movie star.
Delightful paper umbrellas were on display and joyously celebrated throughout the weekend. We were there for the afternoon and part of the Umbrella parade. Try riding your bike while holding an umbrella!
Pretty amazing experience. I can now say I have had my hand inside an elephants mouth. 
While feeding them many bananas. Pretty big tongue!
It stands over 8400 feet and it was blissfully cooler or the first time in weeks. 
I know that sounds a bit annoying to anyone who has been in the cold blasts that have been experienced in the States over the last weeks but, it was truly refreshing for us. It was also fascinating to see folks getting their selfies with the sign on top. This is a very serious business in Asia.
We also experienced some amazing waterfalls on the way back down.
We became fast friends with our hosts who are sisters. There are three and their names translate to Moon, Star and Sky.
This bowl of egg noodles with meat, spicy broth topped with lime, pickled cabbage and crispy noodles is quite seriously, a bowl for the soul. I am wondering if there is a food cart back in Portland that has it…otherwise, we need to build it.
Our last full day we awoke at 4am to get a ride then climb to the top of Doi Suthrup and the Temple on top that was first built in 1383. 
Did you catch that? 1383….and it still operates today as a Monastery and has several temples to visit. After calling the boys class back in Portland at the bottom of the stairs, we climbed 309 stairs to the top and found ourselves with only three other people that weren’t monks there.
After the sun came up, we saw loads and loads of buses and songthaew with visitors streaming out as we departed. I’m glad we had our quiet, peaceful visit.
