Home; the word has a whole new meaning

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(photos will be added when I'm back in Canada)

We're in Ireland. Conor's homeland. Home also to rain and all things green.
Conor's parents met us in Rosslare where our ferry docked after crossing both the English channel and the St. George channel in the Irish Sea.
It's been a nice change of pace, being able to relax yet still see the country a bit with the help of Conor's parents. We've been staying in Tipperary, a cute little Irish town where Conor's parents grew up in and around. We visited the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast of Ireland on our way to the smallest of the Aran Islands, Inish Oirr. The Cliffs of Moher are just awesome to see. You literally feel like your on the edge of the world, dropping 394-702ft depending on where you're standing. The Aran Islands are like a world on their own. We stayed for one night in a great B&B, we rode bikes around the island looking at old ruins and ship wrecks. The island we stayed on has a population of 300 along with pubs, dogs and horses. It's a nice place to relax and take in the Maritime feel and smell. After the 25 minute ferry ride of nausea the next day, we drove back to Tipperary. The landscape is gorgeous, rolling green hills scattered with ruins of towers and homes, standing untouched with everything built or grazing around them they almost seem to look over the country making sure that tradition and culture stay intact in Ireland.
We will go to Cork on Friday to visit Conor's cousins, then head to Dublin the next day to look around a bit and get ready to fly home on the first of Septmeber. 'Home' it's so weird say. After being gone for almost a year it has taken on a whole new meaning for me and as I've learned to adapt the meaning of that word for the past year I'm excited to come back to Canada - really a place like no where else. Perhaps that's because it's really home.

When we left New Zealand I wrote a poem about leaving it so I thought it would be nice to write another one about coming home. I'm no poet, I just like to rhyme, so here it goes:

'On Coming Home'

A dream long awaited
Has finally come to pass
For months we have made it,
with memories that will last.

From red dirt to ancient walls,
Alpine peaks to cobblestone
Taking eleven thousand foot falls
funded by all day telephone calls.

We've seen old,
we've seen new
some of gold
some with a view

..however..
This year has gone so fast
we've done too much to fit in this poem
But with 10 countries past,
I've realized that there's no place like home.


Once we reach Toronto we will have travelled 71,009km, seen 10 countries, been in every time zone and learned so much. But this wouldn't have been possible without the help of our family, friends, and the people we've met along the way. Conor and I would like to thank the following:
Steve and Debbie Niddery (New Brunswick, Canada)
Peter Dowd (NB)
Catherine and Neil Fleming (Toronto, Canada)
Andre and Tess Roelofsen (Wormer, Netherlands)
Martina and Andrew Kelly as well as their five children: Cormac, Aine, Kate, Orla and Nula (Dunedin, Nwe Zealand)
Vienna Bostock (Gold Coast, Australia)
Everyone at the Hoopman and St. James Gate Pubs in Amsterdam
And everyone who has read these blogs who have encouraged us to continue

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