My first night in Ireland

I found the pub without too much trouble. I was going to Kings Head for my first literature festival event, a poetry slam. Down the main street, there were all sorts of buskers. A man played a traditional Irish song. Another man tried to get out of a straight jacket while balancing on a very…

Going to Galway: The Airport

I got to Bristol airport and realised that I didn’t even know if the place I was going to was called Galway. That was the town listed on the hostel confirmation printout, but I’d been calling it “Galaway City.” Had I just misread it? Surely I must have meant Galway? Yes, that would be the place.…

Going to Ireland

I barely know anything about Ireland. Apparently they speak Irish there. That’s Gaelic. Apart from that, I know there’s been a civil war, because my friend Aimee told me. I’m going for five days as part of the Cuirt Literature Festival. I’m terrible with directions, don’t know much about Ireland (other than the fact that…

My Trip to Pompei, Italy

Things that make me think of Italy: Passionate hand gestures. They especially like touching their pointer finger to thumb. Pizza. Woodfired pizza. Sooo good. (They keep their recipes really simple. That makes the meal even better). You have to play chicken to cross the road. Even at a zebra crossing, you have to dash madly…