New York—>Paris—>Dublin…then a bus to Ballinasloe, and a drink stop, and then once my aunt arrived, two hours in a car on those precarious roads (left hand side) to Carrick-On-Shannon in Leitrim.

It’s been quite the journey, but I watched the sun rise over the Eiffel Tower and I capped the night with some drink and a Trad Session. I had some lounge time in Paris with a cappuccino and perfect croissant and I can’t complain.

Falling asleep in a strange city is eerily comforting. Nearly anonymous and free to do whatever I want. That includes accidentally walking through the back of a pub through the men’s room…

Even if Ireland smells kind of like sweet meat (peat bogs and the burning of peat moss) I’m happy to be in the homeland. Goodnight from the Emerald Isle.