She works hard for her money

Backroads is an interesting job. You work hard. You work very hard, and at the end of the day you hope that the guests you have been leading around see that and appreciate that and report that it was their best vacation ever. Seriously, that's what we strive for: the best vacation EVER.

Kenmare: Where we stay our last two days. Also where the leaders live when we are off work.

Every guest has the opportunity at the end of their trip to rate you on a 1-10 scale. The backroads leader's average (that's a "C") is 9.6. If you get an 8 that's something they might want to look into: "what happened? was there a problem? did everything go ok?" We strive for perfection daily then kick ourselves if it doesn't work out that way. We pick everything apart down to the tiniest detail: what rooms they have at night, where they sat in the van, did they get enough face time, did they get good seats for the cultural events that we hosted, did they like the snacks we put out for their hike, did they get their coffee by 6am despite the hotel not putting it out before 7? Someone mentions in passing that they used to ride horses and by the next day we have slipped a piece of paper into their hand providing the name and number of some stables near our hotel on day 3 should they choose to opt out of the hike. Options. It's all about options.

Devin (my co-leader) and I after the second day hike by the ice cream truck. Yum.

At the end of it all you are pretty exhausted mentally. Most of the time your tips reflect that they had a good time, but sometimes they do not. I recently got an email from a former guest with several links to her photos and a photo book that she had put together. It was so great to see the vacation from the guest point of view!

The forth day hike past Torc Waterfall and onward to Derrycunnihy Church.

This family was one of the greatest I've worked with yet. She and her husband were celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary and their son was celebrating his 22nd birthday. On the "on your own dinner" night we took their son out so they could do some celebrating on their own and little did we know he had a few pints before meeting up with us for dinner on his own. Several hours later Devin, Matt (the son) and I are all out at Crowley's (one of our favorite local pubs) and Matt is not looking so good. Long story short his parents and 2 other couples come in so proud that they "found" us. It was pretty hilarious. We had to assure his mom that we did not give him that much beer and she said, "oh please, I know. I know my son." After that we could all just laugh a little and it made their vacation that much better that they "busted the kids partying". The next day I also had to drive everyone to the trailhead (this was a walking trip) then come back to the hotel to collect him (since he over slept) and then drive him out to the picnic spot (half hour each way) where he could continue to sleep it off a little while I prepared lunch.

Matt, Devin and I after we'd been "busted" by Matt's mom.

The email I got from her with these pictures spoke of their vacation being seamless and how we really raised the bar for what they expect from a vacation now. We "made" the trip for them and that is something to be proud of. We provided their best vacation EVER and had a blast doing it! Here are some pictures from a guest's point of view:

Where we stay the first and second night: The Carrig House

The second day hike: Windy Gap. Need proof? Look at my hair.

Where we stay the third night: The Killarney Park Hotel

And the last two nights: The Park Hotel Kenmare. This is their dog. He doesn't have a name.

Saying farewell to the gang on a van drive day. Before I had to go collect Matt.

Post trip high five.

Homeward bound

Nothing like a music festival to inspire a very short but sweet visit home! I finished a trip on Friday afternoon and packed up all my stuff then returned a rental car for one of my co-leaders in Cork that evening. Got a hotel room at the Cork International Airport Hotel (which happens to look like a space station) and then stayed up a few more hours, crossed my fingers and set the alarm for a whopping 3 hours of sleep. 4am (Ireland time) woke up, stumbled around the room and took a shower

4:30am took the shuttle over to the airport and got checked in

5am strolled through the duty free shop where I deliriously decided a bottle of Bushmills Black Bush whiskey would be a good anniversary gift for Dylan.

12:30pm (Portland time) finally landed at PDX after a short lay over in Amsterdam where they confiscated and poured out my anniversary present then frisked me (all part of the normal screening) and reboarded us on a gigantic plane so that we could sit on the runway for an hour. Not that it mattered to me. I was sleeping. That's right. Already. Even before take off. I was out. Cold. Then, of course, after we did conclude our 11 hour flight with a safe landing we had to wait another 15 minutes for US customs to be prepared for us. Really? I kind of thought that extra hour and a half it took for me to get here would be enough time to get ready.

12:45pm collected by my dear friends Julie and Brent who graciously drove circles around the airport for said hour and a half and then took me home to shower and change into some more music festival appropriate clothing. And yes, mom, I know how hippie I look, but where else can I get away with it?! I now chauffeur rich people around Ireland. I can play dress up if I want to while I'm home.

The look on Dylan's poor unsuspecting face was priceless. He was legitimately confused for another 30 minutes or so and then it finally started sinking in. I apparently ruined his plans for a grand "welcome home" at the airport, but who needs flowers when you have good music and camping? Pickathon was wonderful as always although I didn't dance near as much as I normally do. Stupid jet lag. Happy to just relax with Dylan instead.

Monday night we had a few folks over to the house and I was finally starting to feel less jet lagged. I think I fully recovered by Tuesday and we went to dinner then saw a show at Alberta Street Pub featuring friends of ours and Langhorne Slim. It was fantastic. Wednesday we went to dinner with Ric (Dylan's dad), Marley (Dylan's sister), Kyle (my sister) and Nate (my sister's other half) to Apizza Scholls. If you live in Portland and have not been there yet, you are missing out. Go now and order an It's It. You will thank me later.

Thursday came too fast and I was back on a plane to Ireland. I was tired and felt like I could have used another week with friends and family, but I am grateful for the days I had and look forward to November.

You can see more photos here.

Dingle

I went to Dingle with Siofra for a few days. She's my local friend and her name is pronounced "she-fra". We stayed at her brother's apartment in town and it was a riot overall. Good craic. (That's what they say around here for fun: craic) Dingle itself is gorgeous. Bright colors. Complete with an equally vibrant nightlife. Hilarious.

Wednesday we took a drive out along the Slea head, visited the Blasket Islands visitor center and then hit the town again. A perfect little holiday away.

The Blaskets are famous for the many irish writers they produced and then the island population slowly decreased through the years secondary to hard lifestyle and emigration. They were finally evacuated in the 50s by the government.

"I sat down on the bank above the beach where I had a splendid view all around me. Dead indeed is the heart from which the balmy air of the sea cannot bannish sorrow and grief." Peig Sayers

"It was a narrow life, but their knowledge of it was profound. It was a simple culture, but free from the rapacity and vulgarity that is destroying our own." George Thomson

See more.

Climbing around town

Monday rolled around this week and I had no work to do and I was waiting for my friend Siofra to finish work so I decided to go on a little bike ride.

Me + bike + camera + (mostly) sunshiney day in Ireland = happy

I did about 50 miles along the coast then up Healy Pass, over to Glengariff and back over Caha Pass to Kenmare. 2 great climbs and 2 incredible descents. A great day all in all.

More pictures here

Fleadh Cheoil na Mumhan

Or Fleadh for short. Pronounced like "fla". Think like flat but without the t and an exaggerated aaa...not ahh, like the doctor's office. My midwest/yankee accent got me in trouble with the correct pronounciation of this one.

The irish language, it is not a latin-derived language so the pronounciation is completely counter-intuitive. It is beautiful to hear when spoken well, but it is difficult to learn and to be quite honest, the irish people are incredibly welcoming and warm, but quick to poke fun and therefore you have to endure mispronouncing it then someone will ask you to mispronounce it again just so they can make fun of you for a few minutes about it before telling you how it should be said. Not exactly an efficient process. Irish (or gaelic as we know it) is also missing some letters that we use, like v. Instead they combine other letters to accomplish the sound they want. Like the name Niamh, pronounced Nieve. They also combine words together with extra letters so that the word will sound better or the sentence will flow better.

Anyway, I digress. The Fleadh is a regional music festival where the kids from all over come to Kenmare and play their instruments and dance and sing to win "The Munster". From here if they win they will compete in the All-Ireland music festival (the Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann) later in the summer. I went to a few of the shows and concerts and really wanted to take pictures, but it was unfortunately also pouring rain for most of the weekend which is not great for the camera. Not to mention I once again found myself in the dilemma where I wanted to enjoy and be in the moment and taking photos seems to distance me from that.

I took some pictures at one of the dance lessons at the square in town. Anyone can go and learn and they lead everyone through the footwork for some basic set dances. It was great. All on a little stage they built in the town square. The kids were great.

It is shocking how much music is engrained in the irish lifestyle. It's just part of who they ARE. All these kids start dancing when they are about 3 or 4 and by the time they are in school they already know the tempo of the different dances and how a jig is different from a reel so they start playing an instrument. I watched a kid who was the new munster champion in his age group (probably about 7) play his heart out till 11:30pm at the pub on an accordian while his friends played along with their fiddles and 3 little girls danced. It is sensational. The best part, his little brother was about 1 or 2 and pushed up in the corner snoozing in his stroller. No one would dare bother him and his parents need not worry. It is all about the family here. Everyone in the bar was cheering him on for more. At one point he actually put his "squeeze" down and they cheered for an encore.

I also saw a girl my age do a brush dance. This is a more traditional ditty and they basically lay a broom on the floor and do a dance around it. Here's a video. It's not her, but you'll get the idea. This is all just in the middle of the floor at the local bar. Push the pool table aside and dance away. The little dancers just idolized her from that moment on. I'm going to learn it.

More pictures.

Running around

Quite literally running around actually. I had the good fortune of leading two great back to back trips with the boys over the last several weeks and it was an overall good experience. Unfortunately for me, even the busy days as an active tourism trip leader don't seem to pack in enough exercise to counteract the food they serve us at night. Three course meals every night including dessert. And I'm NOT on vacation. So I've been trying to get in some runs here and there to make up for it.

I don't really want to talk about work on this blog much because it is not why I started it in the first place, but I will say this: I love my job. And every once in a while you will get that pain in the ass guest who really needs a reality check in life. BUT then I have to remember that, as spoiled as they may be, they paid for this vacation. They paid a LOT of money for ME to lead them around Ireland and do my damnest to show them the best vacation of their life. So while they may be a little to privileged in general, it is still my privilege to have that job. It's a good life lesson to look for the good in everyone and focus on that for a sustained period of time. I normally just ignore these type of folks since they typically annoy me and I especially wouldn't care to hang with them for a week. It is good practice. Like I said, I love my job.

Here are a few pictures from my jogs around the way.

Near our house in Kenmare on a great loop through town.

Does anyone else see a face in this tree?

The glassy Lake Caraugh where the Carrig House sits.

Makes the 6am wake up call worth it.

No pictures...just news

My schedule has been posted for September and October and while it is always subject to change I am tentatively driving this unit to Italy. That's right...me+van+trailer+26 bikes on top driving from Ireland to Italy over 5 days. WOO HOO!!!

After that I will be back in France to pick up a different van and taking that one to Slovenia! Alps anyone? Yes please. I'd love some.

My pocket book is a little angry that I'm not leading more trips, but my heart is happy wandering. Even if wandering only pays minimum wage. Who knows if I will ever get an experience like this again...just going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Cheers,
Erin