Tag Archives: lost in translation

lost in translation.

Standard

reminiscing about my visit

to beautiful ireland

 six years back, in july

how we found our way around the country

oh, we did a few turn-arounds here and there

as you can see above

but somehow we always ended up where we were going

eventually.

even with directions asked and kind answers given

regional accents, local advice, and lore

 thrown in for good measure

it could be a challenge at best

‘”oh, just go over the hill for a bit, turn at the old barn, you’ll see a huge green field with hills, and some sheep, and then a pub, they don’t have the best sandwiches but stop in for a pint, say hi to seamus for me if you see him, he’s a good lad, he just had that one thing that wasn’t really his fault, and all is forgiven, and oh, don’t turn by the church, go past it, there’s no sign, but you’ll see a big rock where john’s shed used to be before it burnt down in that fire in ’79 when everything was so dry, and take a sharp turn there….”  – and so on.

whether bumping along on a sheep path, sharing a two-way road with one lane, or driving half in a hedgerow

we found all the places we wanted to be

and discovered so many surprising and magical places along the way.

“going in the wrong direction, but making really good time.”

-cheri huber