Posts tagged travels

Kayaking – To Get Contact with Nature, Others, and Yourself

You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.

Mark Twain

On a warm afternoon, Marisol, Jacek, Marcin and I, arrive at Menlo Pier, just 4 km from Galway. Jim Morrissey from Kayakmór sits on the bench in front of the water, we say hello and we keep waiting for a few more people. Behind the car, we change into wetsuits, put on matching life jackets. Yellow, orange, red, and blue kayaks gleam on the shore against the background of the sweet flag.

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Let’s Meet in Castle Ellen House

Low lie the fields of Athenry

Where once we watched the small free birds fly

Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing

From song Fields of Athenry

When after a long time I dared on a solo trip outside Galway, I met an adventure that I had never dreamed about. On Sunday morning, I packed my blue bike onto the train and went to Athenry, only two stops. Next, I headed by Tuam Road to Castle Ellen House, for the exhibition ‘Town and Country.

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Meeting with Contemporary Iranian Theatre

Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.

Rumi

We scroll the reality like a Facebook wall, but the excess of stimuli kills our sensitivity to ordinary things. Sometimes, we smooth our faces in Photoshop because we do not like visible fears and naive dreams. Meanwhile, theatre reveals the truth about being who we really are and what we long for at the bottom of our hearts.

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Wander Woman

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.

Irish proverb

Summer in Ireland has 14 degrees, and rain is usually on hand. However, there is some unusual feature of this country that always makes me feel that I am on the way. Because when I discover new beaches, various types of flowers and grasses, and visit fishing villages like Kinvara, I experience the magic and the weather does not determine it.

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Paradise Found In Ireland

When the sun is shining, Connemara looks like a fairy-tale land. Lush green spills onto the road like a cocktail of parsley and kiwi. It mixes with navy streams and sea-pink Armeria Maritima for several dozen kilometers. Magic mountains reign under the sky, and at their foot the most beautiful turquoise I have ever seen is glazed.

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On The Road

I sit down on a stone by the R336 in the Maan Valley. The asphalt is quiet. Along the side of the road, one sheep walks. Thin black legs wobble slightly on the grey rocks. I take a sip of coffee from an orange mug. Brown giants – Maamturk watch me gently. A moment ago I have doubted the sense of being. Now, I contemplate a magical or ordinary fragment that is just happening.

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Flamenco Rhythm Of Everyday Life

Outside the window, I hear the sound of a hammer hitting the metal sheet. My cup of coffee is touching the saucer sonorously. A knife creaks on the glass board as I cut the bread, and the bottle of olive oil hits the worktop. Even though it is an ordinary Wednesday, I put on my blue flamenco shoes which I brought from Cadiz, and tap out my internal beat on the kitchen floor.

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Beaches of Connemara on a stormy day

There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing

Alfred Wainwright

The force of the wind on the Beaufort scale is nine, a little tree knocked over on some balcony in Galway. I prepare sandwiches and pour coffee into tourist mugs. We put on hoodies, jackets, hats, I take gloves, even it is May. Dauntless sneakers are ready for the adventure. The songs by Polish band T.Love sound in the car, so memories mix with the N59 road, and beige hills with newborn sheep hug their mums on the fields. Long before Clifden, we turn right to the Connemara National Park. The direction is three beautiful beaches.

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