Newborn goat, leaving the farm and New Years in Dublin

27/12 - This place is going to be remembered for all of its smells. The house is always filled with the scent of wood smoke that comes from the stove near the back door. Then there's the odor of horse manure combined with the sweat while shoveling it into the wheelbarrow and soiled straw that was used by poultry. But there's the pleasant smell of clean air and damp earth as well.

It's amazing how good eggs, butter and milk taste when you know they came from just 30 feet away. They taste richer and creamier. Perhaps that's because they're more fresh or without chemicals. I'm not sure. I just know this city kid has never tasted anything like it.

My two days off are approaching, so I've been researching ways to travel. It turns out Swinford is in the middle of nowhere. It doesn't even have a train station. If I want to go to Northern Ireland and Couchsurf for a night, my best bet would be to get a car. That's expensive, though, and I don't want to spend too much.

28/12 - Instead of going to Northern Ireland, I'm going to be easy on myself (and a little bit dull) by just going back to Dublin for a few days before my flight. I'll leave the farm on Wednesday to give myself a day or two checking out the breweries of Dublin. Whether I'll Couchsurf, do Airbnb, get a hotel or sleep on the streets I still don't know.

I'm getting the routine down at the farm and more confident in understanding what needs to be done. But amid all of the routine, something completely random happens. For example, one of the goats gave birth today. Mary first noticed something was wrong because the goat was lying down. That usually only happens if it's being submissive to the other goats or if it's ready to give birth, she said to me.

While we created a makeshift pen for it, the goat kept standing up and lying down, so Mary called Anna to help her assist the goat with the delivery. They told me to keep clear so as not to stress the goat out more, so after doing a bit of work, I could hear a new, high-pitched voice, one that sounds like it breathed some helium.

The baby goat, which I learned is called a kid, is black and white and never stood up during the time I watched it. The mother also was not taking to it, so Anna and Mary held the goat and guided the kid's mouth to the udder to get to feed. I was amazed at how much of a difference one feeding made to the kid, as it looked more perky after getting a little bit of milk. Eventually the kid was placed in a shoebox filled with straw so it could stay warm over night.

I also learned a kid typically stands up and takes its first steps within 10 minutes of being born. In the time I watched, it stood up on shaky and clumsy legs while Anna rubbed its legs to get them moving. This was cool for me because I've never seen a newborn goat before. Another new experience while traveling.

29/12 - The baby goat is standing, walking and nursing off of its mother now. I had to be careful not to step on it while changing the water in the goat pens because it's so small. That came as a relief to Mary, who didn't think the situation would change for the better this quickly.

My week on the farm is complete. If I'm honest, I'm ready to leave. It's good to get some manual labor in to knock myself down a peg or two, but I wouldn't want to do farm work for months on end. Though it's immensely healthy, shoveling manure and working in the daily rain gets old because there's no variety in the daily routine. Mary and Anna are quick because they have their own routine and have been doing it for years, whereas I've done it for about six days. I got my fill of the farm.

Now that I've left, it seems like only yesterday I arrived. It was a quick trip, but rewarding nonetheless. As I sit here in the Gateway Hotel bar waiting for my bus that comes in an hour and a half, I should note that I feel proud of the fact I volunteered my time for a week. My traveling seems to always turn out positively, and I sincerely hope the bug to explore planet Earth never goes away. This adventure reinforces the fact I'll choose travel over work nine times out of 10. You can always make more money; when the opportunity to travel presents itself, you have to snatch it.

Tonight I'll stay in Dublin for a couple of nights in the Temple Bar district, which is in the center of the city. From the looks of things, it's a very lively area so New Years Eve (NYE) should be plenty memorable. I'll stay in a six-bed dormitory in a hostel and there looks to be plenty to see in Dublin. I'm really looking forward to it because this city life is the complete opposite of my time on a farm in a lonely part of Ireland. For NYE, I won't be getting trashed, but I do want to find a good microbrewery. I'd like to get a pint or two of a good Irish beer, or if possible, a bottle of Trapistes Rochefort.

So here's to celebrating the end of a fantastic year in Dublin. A visit to the National Leprechaun Museum is in order.

Christmas in Ireland and escaped chickens

23/12 - As I lay here in bed, my sleeping pattern all jacked up from the time change, I figured I should start this post off with a little bit of education.

Ireland is not part of the United Kingdom. Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England are. Instead of British pounds, the Euro is used in Ireland. That's good for me because the exchange rate for USD to Euros really isn't that large. And according to a taxi driver this morning, about 10 percent of the population speaks Irish, a language whose letters are not pronounced like their English counterparts. Most people study it in school, but since few people actually speak it in everyday life, important aspects of the language such as grammar are forgotten. It's like Welsh and Gaelic in Scotland.

Here's an Irish phrase: "Nollaig shona duit." Merry Christmas. Don't ask me how to pronounce it.

The day started off with yet another snag. While charging something in my hotel room, I was packing my bag when suddenly there was a loud pop and a flash of light. All other lights in the room switched off and would not come back on. My first thought was of panic because I thought I'd have to pay a heavy fee to fix that problem.

But after a few moments, I realized it was probably just a blown fuse; a simple fix. Other than the fact I had to go find another new wall adapter because the first one turned black after blowing up, I was fine. From that point, I just shook my head and laughed; It's all I can do at this point. I just let the front desk of the hotel know what happened; they were understanding.

After a three-and-a-half-hour bus ride on which I fell asleep several times, I've arrived at the farm of Mary and her daughter Anna. It's not really a farm; more like a house with several acres Mary and her daughter utilize to their own advantage. Mary (maybe in her 60s?) picked me up at the bus stop in Swinford. She walked right up to me and asked if I'm Michael, somewhat surprising me.

The house is in a rural area, several miles from Swinford. If I want to go to town to get a pint, it'll be a bit tricky. There are three dogs, several cats, four horses (one of which is a mini), two cows, goats, ducks, chickens and pigs. What Mary expects of me is to work five hours a day for five days, but that work basically entails giving her a helping hand - nothing too strenuous. In return, Mary is giving me accommodation and meals (she used to cater; she's a very good cook!).

Jessica, a 22-year-old Canadian from Toronto who recently graduated with her Bachelor's degree, is also here for the next few days. She's been traveling since September and will go on until February, and it's good to have someone around my own age here. It doesn't even feel like I'm so far away. The fact I'm staying in a comfortable house helping take care of animals and getting home-cooked meals makes this feel normal, routine.

One last thing here for today: Stella saw my scathing WhatsApp message last week. There was no reply. What she did to me is beyond rude; it's shocking. But I'm not angry. How can I be if I still got the opportunity to do cool stuff while traveling? I'm not going to stress about it because I know karma will come back to haunt her. Doing something like this is not what a decent person would do to a fellow human being. Though I was screwed, I still squeezed value out of a bad situation.

25/12 - Merry Christmas all the way from Ireland!

My first full day of work yesterday followed the theme of my trip up to this point: snags, snafus and fuck-ups. While helping Mary clean the horse stables, I left the gate open, thus letting one of the horses out. Thankfully, it just kept close to the stables, munching on grass.

Later, I didn't do a complete job cleaning the yard and the garage. After that, I accidentally let four chickens and guinea fowl escape the coop. I thought the door was closed, but apparently the birds can squeeze through tiny openings. Yes, chickens aren't the smartest of animals, but on that occasion I was outsmarted by one. Hearing the news she had chickens loose, Mary was none too pleased with me and said I needed to improve or I was to catch the bus out of Swinford on Monday. I also nearly let a couple of goats escape too.

After the work was finished, Anna took Jessica and I to Swinford for a few drinks at a pub. I can now say I've drank in an actual Irish pub, and my Irish buddies kept buying me pints of Guinness. Six pints later and an hour after closing time, I think I held my own with my hosts. However, it wasn't the smartest idea to get tanked the night before an early morning start, as Mary actually had to come into my room and wake me up. I'm really making a good impression on her!

The thing I've noticed so far is how this trip doesn't even feel like traveling. The benefits of home-cooked meals after a couple hours of manual labor gives it a totally different vibe; it feels like I'm just living with a family (which I am). The work has me tired, and I got an amazing night of sleep last night. The fact I'm enjoying this "vacation," and all of the work that comes with it is one reason I'm one strange dude. It makes me feel like I'm doing something positive for another human being, and it's something I can look back upon and be proud of doing it.

After all, how many people can say they spent their vacation working on an Irish farm? At the very least, I've learned to lock gates behind me. Animals are escape artists. But, I guess I always seem to learn the hard way.

26/12 - My first Christmas away from family is in the books. Though I didn't spend it with my own family, I spent it with my Irish family. Mary can really cook! It was a full Christmas lunch, complete with turkey, stuffing, potatoes and carrots and other foods, such as bread sauce. To make bread sauce, you take some bread and mix it with milk and butter. But the turkey was the best I had in a very long time because it was juicy and perfectly cooked.

Anna took Jessica and I to a Christmas party at her friend's house, which was at the end of several miles of one-lane roads through the countryside. Dave and Lisa have a baby, and their house is incredible. It looks new with a modern design. Behind the Christmas tree was a two-story window. The same people we drank with at the pub the other night were here, and we just played party games.

Being included in that social group has made me feel comfortable right away. Anna and Mary do make their guests feel welcome in a warm, family environment. The only other time I've experienced this homey feel while traveling was that month in La Almunia with Felix and Rosa over the summer. The fact it doesn't even feel like visiting a different country is still stunning.

Los Angeles and a difficult trek into Ireland

21/12 - Los Angeles is a massive, smoggy, traffic-infested metropolis. There's trash everywhere, Spanish is prominent and lots of murals on building walls. Thankfully, Stephanie and Juan have given me a place to stay and are showing me around for the day I'm here.

They live in a small studio behind Juan's mother's house in San Fernando. You have to walk up the driveway, open the gate to the back and dodge the barking German shepherd (it bit a burglar, so the burglar sued the family for not having a Beware of Dog sign. The burglar won). Inside their studio is a cozy loft that makes excellent use of what little space there is, and a young, male cat that loves to run around the room and play fetch with a ball. I'm basically Couchsurfing, but not really. 

Today I walked for miles in an unglamorous part of West Hollywood. Stephanie and I wandered around, got some Guatemalan empanadas and rode the bus and subway (which I didn't even know LA has). It's been a while since I pounded the pavement of a strange city, so both of my knees are a bit swollen and sore, maybe because of slight tendonitis. 

I dislike Los Angeles. There are too many cars and sitting in traffic is a large chunk of your day. But on the way back to Stephanie's place, life got a little bit slower as we walked on the railroad tracks, something so simple yet so powerful when having an adventure. 

But for dinner, I got a taste of eating with a Mexican family. You'll continually be served chorizo tacos and quesadillas until you waive them off, unable to eat more. But our meal time was fast paced, as we ate while cooking more at the same time. So thanks to Juan and Stephanie for making my short stay in Los Angeles enjoyable. Both were great hosts and I hope I left a good impression.

As for LAX and Ethiopian Airlines...shoot me. The system for that airline crashed, so all of the tickets and information was processed by hand. I don't know exactly how long I was standing in the check-in line, but it was easily 90 minutes. I've never experienced anything like that, and I'll try not to ever use this airline again. Imagine that kind of frustration! And imagine the only time you ever arrive at the airport about three hours early, this happens.

22/12 - In hindsight, Ethiopian Airlines is fine. They did the best they could do with a crashed system. The plane was clean and the food was quality for the most part. It was a chilled out flight. I can't talk trash about the airline now. But...

I'M IN IRELAND!

My trip seems to be hitting more snags than usual, as I was held back at customs because I don't have a work permit for this WorkAway adventure. The customs officer had to walk away with my passport twice to verify information. At one point, he asked me how much money I have and what I'd do if I had to catch the flight back to Los Angeles that night. The thought of possibly getting deported back to America made my head explode.

But after verifying that I have a return flight back to America on Jan. 2, a place to stay in Dublin for the night and that I work for the Porterville Recorder (the officer pulled up one of my stories on his computer), I was free to go, but not before I had to take a mugshot. The Irish government is watching me now.

Because of that, I had to stop in the airport pub and have a Guinness, which tastes much better in Ireland. I've heard more Irish accents in the past few hours than I have in the past year in England. Besides the accent, though, it really isn't that much different from the United Kingdom.

Walking around looking for basic supplies, I had that stupid smirk on my face again which usually is the result of being in a new country. I'm stoked! This is the 16th country I've visited in 2015, and it's already started off with a great story. The next 10 days should be a blast. Not even my right knee, which feels a little bit stiff and swollen, will ruin that. I'm also looking forward to blogging regularly again. Hopefully it inspires others.

On the eve of Ireland and a different perception of Porterville

16/12 - My new adventure has taken shape incredibly quickly.

In the time span of less than a week, I've changed my flight and found a host in Ireland through WorkAway. It turns out you're not allowed to stay in your layover country and get back on the plane on its return trip through that country, so I changed my flight to just be a round trip to Dublin. I was this close  to visiting Kenya, but it wasn't in the stars.

If I'm honest, I was a little bit surprised I wasn't more disappointed about that adventure falling through and how fast I was able to change my plans. Kenya and Ireland probably couldn't be more different; Kenya is hot right now, while Ireland is seeing rain for days on end. The No. 1 key to this whole situation is staying positive and seeing the silver lining in that there's another opportunity there; I just had to be a little bit creative and act quickly. In fact, I don't think I've heard of this kind of thing happening to anyone else. As far as I know, this is unique.

During my time in Ireland, I'll work on a farm that raises large animals such as sheep, goats, pigs, horses and cows. The mother and daughter that run the farm have nothing but positive reviews on their WorkAway page, and there is a picture of them milking some of the animals by hand. I've wanted to learn how to do that for years now. Apparently the mother is an amazing cook and the work isn't too stressful, so I'm really looking forward to this trip.

As you all know by now, the draw of traveling for me is meeting new people in their own countries and creating unique stories. I'd much rather go work on this farm than go wander aimlessly through Dublin, staying in hotels and doing the tourist thing. A friend asked me today the simple-yet-complex question of "what makes you happy?" I told her doing things not many others can say they've done and then inspiring others to do the same makes me happy. This is a trip not many others can say they've pulled off. It's been done with the intention of one thing: chasing memories.

19/12 - I'm done with work. My trip to Los Angeles is tomorrow, and I fly to Ireland Monday night. But I'm not quite done in Porterville. My remaining time here for this year has been quite amazing, especially on Saturday. It was filled with meeting fascinating people that have connections to family and a successful date that ended with a kiss, however awkward and screwed up it was. Saturday was one of those truly excellent days, one that puts you on Cloud 9.

But most of all, and perhaps more importantly, Saturday made me enjoy and appreciate Porterville and the Central Valley just a little bit more. That doesn't come from the city itself, but the people. I do like being here, and it's been much better than my first stint.

So I'll get a ride by car to Corcoran, where I'll catch the train to Bakersfield, where I'll ride the bus over the Grapevine and into Los Angeles, where my friend will give me a ride by car to LAX, where I'll fly to Ireland. So before I travel, I'll travel. Here's to cramming one more adventure into 2015 and visiting my 16th country of the year. Just like old times, expect a few more blogs documenting Ireland.

Good neighborhood, Ducati thoughts and a trip to Ireland for Christmas

11/11 - I've lived in this new house in a nice part of Porterville for a couple of weeks now. The neighborhood is quiet and safe, and I don't have to worry so much about someone bashing a stone through my back window but not taking anything (like what happened last summer). I'm fully established in town now.

This neighborhood is perfectly safe for an after-dinner walk through the streets after 10 p.m. Ideas seem to come much easier when you just start walking; I guess my mind in particular starts revving when I walk. As I walked, I thought about what I do every day: the mediocrity of this town, how it's best feature by far is its proximity to national parks. I want to do something else giant with my life, and that opportunity isn't found in Porterville.

But then immediately after that I realized I need to think positive. If I dislike this place so much, why not make it a better place for someone else, if I'm so dissatisfied with it? After all, my No. 1 desire is to do something to make my environment a better place for other people. That's part of the reason why I want to join the Coast Guard. With that in mind, I'm going to start looking for volunteer opportunities within the city. I need to stop whining about my own issues with this place and put my energy into helping my fellow human being.

There are no immanent trips planned for myself, though I did learn the Grand Canyon is exactly 600 miles away from Porterville. But the Kenya trip won't be for another six weeks, and I'm still trying to decide how I'll get to LAX. However, that seems to be figured out as well, as I'll Couchsurf with a friend in Los Angeles for a night before they give me a lift to the airport.

I'm getting more and more comfortable with the Ducati. I'm learning about its behaviors and how to ride it. I have a routine when coming up to stops now, so as to stop the engine from stalling on me. I'm also not nearly as afraid of it as much anymore - I'm becoming one with this machine.

But looking back at my childhood and teenage years, I never thought I'd ride a motorcycle of my own, much less a superbike. The people who rode motorcycles to school were on another level of cool; they were people I couldn't compete with. Three years after learning to ride a motorcycle in that CHP safety class, I'm confident in saying riding is one of the most thrilling things I can think of. Pulling on the throttle and feeling the engine rumble inches below the seat brings out a side of you that does not reveal itself otherwise. That feeling certainly brings a smile to my face every time I ride, like this weekend's mini lap around Lake Success and through Frazier Valley.

This bike is incredible. The sound it makes is enthralling. It shifts so quickly and smoothly. The riding stance, at first incredibly awkward because of how aggressive and forward-leaning it is, is now normal. And of course, I love riding because it gives you entry into the club of fellow motorcycle riders on the road. Whenever fellow bikers pass each other, they always wave or acknowledge the other in some way.

Call me a fanatic. I wrote the same way in the summer after I finished that epic trip through Wales. I felt so envious of all of the bikers who came to Poole every Tuesday evening. The difference now is I have what I wanted.

5/12 - It's been a while since I last blogged. This house I'm living in is great, and my roommate is pretty cool too. The neighborhood is peaceful and safe, so I don't have much to complain about. 

But the guy I'm renting from is a little strange. He disappears for weeks on end and we have no idea what's going on. It's a week into December and he still hasn't collected the rent yet. You have to wonder what is going through this man's head. He's also incredibly lucky there are cool people living there who won't trash the place, otherwise he'd be up the creek without a paddle. 

I visited the Coast Guard recruiter in Fresno last week. While my heart condition and student loans are a couple of knocks against me, they know who I am now. The application process will be a lengthy one as well. I'm looking forward to see where this leads. 

Felix, Rosa, Alex and Nuria Facetimed me from Spain again. I love talking to them! Nuria hasn't changed a bit, as she said my beard looks ugly. I showed them my room, the house, the backyard and the Ducati. Alex wants me to come to La Almunia for a few weeks and then fly back with me to California for a few weeks. 

Maybe. 

This second go round in Porterville is better than what I made it out to be. I'm meeting new people and making the most out of it.

13/12 - A rather large change in plans is necessary. I won't be going to Kenya anymore because Stella stopped responding to my messages. I think she doesn't have the heart to tell me her family can't or don't want to host me, so she's dealing with it by ignoring the issue. Visiting Kenya without a host isn't the smartest idea in my opinion, so that trip is off the table. I'm not mad, just disappointed by her attitude.

Though unfortunate, this presents another opportunity. My flight both ways includes layovers in Dublin, Ireland, so I just thought I'd stay in Ireland for those 10 days and do a WorkAway. The fun with traveling is its unpredictability and how fast you can adapt. I have about a week to find a host in Ireland, and I've sent out a few messages tonight. It's an exciting prospect, and hopefully my friends can meet up with me. Whatever happens, I just might visit my 16th country of 2015, only it's one I never expected until a few days ago. 

Lightning, exploring California and a Kenya visa

15/10 - There have been thunderstorms the past two days in the Central Valley. I sat on the front porch in Springville and watched the lightning just over the hill. There was no thunder. Lightning storms are one of my favorite things to watch because of the immense power in lightning. The best parts about these storms was the frequency of huge lightning bolts.

24/10 - The best way to erase a bad week and the negative feelings that go with it is to travel. This weekend, I decided to get to know my home state of California a little bit more, and as a result I learned a few things and saw some awesome sights.

Red Rock Canyon State Park was the only place I wanted to see for sure. Hiking among red-colored cliffs that dig down into the ground at an angle is neat to see, especially when you don't realize California has that kind of environment. The more I travel, the more I appreciate California for all of the terrain it offers. It has so much, and some of it we never realize is there. For example, the desert between Tehachapi and Nevada stretches on forever, with occasional hills that break the monotony, and I loved driving through it.

But part of the reason I love to travel and have adventures is everything that happens that can't be planned. At a shady burger shack in Mojave, CA, I recognized the accent of an East London man who was also getting a burger. We got to talking and it turns out he's lived in this state for the last 20 years. He was on his way to Lake Isabella to visit a couple to "play." He paused and then said, "you should come with me."

Huh?

"You should help me f**k this couple. The woman loves it, she's a nasty w***e," he said.

Nah, I think I'll pass.

Aside from meeting an Englishman in such a random place, it was funny to have that encounter. Something like that is impossible to plan, and one can only experience that by just going.

Aside from Red Rock Canyon, I Couchsurfed in Tehachapi with a married couple that is my age. They were very friendly and excellent hosts, and we played Xbox and watched movies for the night. Then in the morning, they wen't way out of their way to show me a hiking trail in Tehachapi Mountain Park. It was only 5 miles round trip, but the trail rises a couple thousand feet in the first 2.5 miles. And of course, as I've done several other times this year, I chose not to take water. Luckily, a fellow hiker gave me a bottle of water after chiding me. I deserved it.

While in Tehachapi, which is a town nestled in a valley and surrounded by mountains at 4,000 feet elevation, I learned that area is extremely windy, and that's why there are hundreds of wind turbines on the east side of the valley. My hosts said it's not uncommon for the valley to be windy all of the time. I also learned that if a California Condor is spotted in the general area, all wind turbines are shut off completely until it disappears. This is because the bird is endangered and could collide with one of the rotors. It takes wildlife around a wind turbine five years to get used to its presence. People who work with the turbines hike around the area to observe how it's affecting local wildlife and take note of dead birds.

To finish off my mini adventure, I took side roads and weaved, woved and zig zagged my way to Lake Isabella on Caliente Bodfish Road and through the Sequoia National Forest on Highway 155, where I found some excellent camp sites, a person who was giving away free apples from his tree on the side of the road and a pair of tarantula spiders making their way across the road. I also found a perfect road for ripping up with a motorcycle. It's one of those roads where you see another car once probably every 15 miles. The only problem with it is the lack of a fuel station between Ducor and another intersection about 40 miles up the road. I'd be worried about running out of gas, so I'd take some with me in a backpack.

This trip was a massive success. I know California a little bit better now, and I drove some twisty and incredibly fun, beautiful, skinny and relaxing roads. And thanks to this new car, I only spent about $40 total on the weekend. Just because I'm no longer in Europe doesn't mean I can't travel. California is a massive state, and this weekend proved there is plenty to see. Plus, I learned a little bit. Can't complain there.

27/10 - I saw a bear in Springville coming home last night. It was something I did not expect. It was a typical brown bear, and I guess they're not too much of a threat, but it was still a shock to see a bear.

Finally, I'm all clear to go to Kenya. My visa was issued and my passport has been returned. The only hurdle left is to get myself to Los Angeles International Airport on Dec. 21. Luckily I just need to get to Burbank by bus because I have a friend who can take me to the airport. Having the visa in hand makes the trip feel that much closer and real. I'm excited, but I'm nervous at the same time. In two months, I'll find myself in a completely different place in the world. The culture in Kenya is unknown to me besides from what I've heard from Stella. I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to greet people. Do I shake hands? Oh well, if you're not nervous before something, it's not big enough. 

A Ducati, the Coast Guard, newborn cattle and a swim in the river

30/9 - I'm still on the ranch in Springville. I love living here and seeing the difference in moonlight each night. This is a perfect situation, except, I can't stay here forever. I've been looking for places to live in Porterville, but I'm being super patient, something I haven't been in the past. I'm being patient with looking for a motorcycle as well, something that is a little surprising to me considering how much I want one.

I recently looked at a Suzuki SV650, the same kind of bike I rode through Wales in June, but that bike had 29,000 miles on it; I'm looking for one with low mileage and a little bit more power. On Sunday, I believe I will have found a bike suitable for me. It's a 2004 Ducati 749 with less than 5,000 miles on it, and it's located in Bakersfield. The owner and I will meet halfway in Delano, and I have already started haggling, saying I have $4,000 cash in hand.

I've been at the Recorder for almost three weeks now. There hasn't been anyone complaining about coverage, and it's been great reconnecting with people and meeting new coaches. It feels so easy to me now, like it's natural. I haven't really been stressed out, even in situations where it becomes fine to be stressed. I can control only what I can control, such as how well and quickly I get my work done. I can't control when games end.

The ball for the United States Coast Guard has been set in motion. However, one of the recruiters advised me to hold off on the application for a few weeks in case I smoked marijuana recently. I guess it doesn't matter how much or how little you smoke. As the recruiter sternly said, "that stuff is bad." But I need to include some medical records that explain my heart condition along with the application. Because of that small hurdle, there is some small worry in the back of my mind that I won't be accepted based on that. I'm at the point where I really would like to see if I can get in. Over the past month or so, I've been focused on that, and in my mind that is the next most logical step in my life. I would be lying if I said there will be no disappointment if it turns out my heart condition prevented me from entering.

2/10 - As a form of rent, I've begun helping with work around the ranch. In the mornings I'll feed the cattle and horses. It's pretty neat to exit the house in the early morning sun, start walking down the driveway towards the barn and have the horses walking beside or behind you, knowing you're about to feed them. When the cattle see you walking they also make their way towards the barn. It's like a large meeting, and everyone knows what's going on.

Grunt work is a good way to start the day. In the barn I find myself rushing a little bit to feed all of the animals. The cattle are jockeying for position and being noisy, the horses stand to the side, giving you attitude and Spirit lurks just outside the front door, waiting for her bit of hay. But once the right amount of hay is in the correct places, the barn relaxes and quiets down with just the sound of chewing. There's also a large pile of wood that needs splitting and stacking. As a kid, I hated it. I hated everything about wood. Now? That work is refreshing!

There was a new calf born last night. It's the size of a dog and has trouble standing. In fact, it's so small that when Brent pointed it out to me in the early morning, I thought he was just pointing to the large cow keeping an eye on it. Later on in the day I saw it for the first time, thinking it was a dog, Beau to be specific. But it had trouble standing and eventually laid down right next to the fence with the same red-and-white cow keeping an eye on it. From far away, it looks scruffy. Hopefully I get a closer look in the morning.

4/10 - I got a closer look of it when Brent needed help driving the cattle back to the pasture closest to the house on Saturday. It's a female calf and it's so fluffy. It's still very unsure of everything though, such as where and how to eat with the rest of the herd. Like this morning, the calf was wandering around the backside of the barn and eventually to the side of the trough where the biggest members eat. While watching it, I saw it try to lick its hind quarters but lose its balance and fall down. When it got back up, it was standing too close to Boo's hind legs. When the large bull backed up a few paces, the calf got knocked in the neck and whipped in the face by the tail.

It'll learn.

That Ducati 749 I wrote about will be mine in a week. I went to Bakersfield to look at it, and the owner keeps it spotless. It won't be the easiest bike to maintain, but it has the power I'm looking for and should be a thrill to ride. But most importantly, I won't have to spend a fortune on gas anymore.

9/10 - The adventure never stops. This ranch is located in the perfect location for adventures to happen, such as hiking to the top of the very steep hill, following nothing but trails made by cattle until you get to the top. It's a small accomplishment to get to the top, where you can see the whole valley below as if you're flying over it, and there's also the possibility of going deeper into that backcountry.

The ranch is also less than 5 miles from the Sequoia National Park. Today I drove in that direction, not knowing exactly where I wanted to go or what to do. What ended up happening was one of those unplanned adventures that makes a day great. I ended up swimming in the Tule River by Lower Coffee Camp and then laying on a warm, granite boulder in the sun in the middle of the river. It was a fantastic, spontaneous decision. I also kept my shoes on my feet so I could walk upstream in the water, up boulders and small rapids. It's a great way to get to those large, calm pools where it's totally peaceful and perfect for just floating on your back.

But today was a representation of why I returned to Porterville. I'm so lucky to have friends who give me good advice and call me out when my ego gets too big. It's jarring, but refreshing (in a way) when someone points out you're being a little too arrogant or egotistical. It makes you take a look at yourself and step back. I welcome that and wish people around me would do it more often.

11/10 - As a final entry here, I'd like to mention two things. I rode the Ducati 749 home today. It's pretty powerful and will draw my complete respect. It's loud (which is good; people will hear me) and runs hot (which is perfect for the winter). Now I just need to get my own garage to store it (Thank you so much, Tamara).

With the arrival of the bike comes the resurfacing of my inner adventurer. I found myself tonight sending a Couchsurfing request to a person in Tehachapi. My plan would be to ride to Red Rock Canyon State Park, a small park to the southeast of Bakersfield. It looks really interesting in pictures and I'd love to do some hiking in the desert. What's good is this trip would be less than 200 miles so I could do it easily in a weekend.

Based on my history, it looks like I'm going to Red Rock Canyon State Park.

Uh oh.

Another completely new life

11/9 - I experienced a bit of culture shock upon reentry to the United States. The TSA is so cold and indifferent, and they search your bags when you check them. Plus, you have to recheck the bags upon reentry. I strongly dislike flying within America; luckily this time I wasn't sick.

Using American money is stange too. I'm used to purple, orange, blue and green bills, all of different sizes. Here i'm back to using monotone and monosize USD. I even confused some members of the local bank in Porterville with British pounds. They had never seen it before!

16/9 - After spending time with my parents, some local friends and meeting up with Magda in Monterey (it was her first time in California), I find myself in Porterville once again. It was a very surreal feeling being back in this city. When I parked in the parking lot, I was in awe, as in "how the hell did I get back here?"

19/9 - Everything is familiar. I've been having this feeling that the year in Europe was like one long dream, and I only recently woke up from it. Since I'm immediately back in Porterville, it feels like coming back from an extended holiday. The people here are mostly the same and I already know most of the coaches and sport names in the area, and I've had several handshakes from them saying they're glad to have me back. It's a cool feeling.

I'm really enjoying my time back here. That usual timeframe when you don't know anyone well in your first week at a new job doesn't exist here, and I've slotted right in.  But the more I think about it, I left Europe to come back to Porterville? 

What the hell was I thinking? I definitely questioned my decision today.

I absolutely love staying on the ranch in Springville. This is because, if I'm feeling bad about my decision to return like I was today, all I need to do is step outside at night and look at the sky. There is no light here, so the stars and Milky Way galaxy shine bright. Occasionally, if you're patient enough, you can see the momentary, bright white flash of a shooting star. Add in the fact the silence of the area rings in your ears, combined with the rare call from a member of the cattle herd, and this adds up to an incredibly peaceful place. It puts things in perspective. My perceived issues here are nothing in comparison to those flaming balls of gas thousands of light years away, glowing in the inky black sky. It's a thrill just to be able to call this place a temporary home, and I completely understand why Mr. Gill has spent his life here on Hilltop.

22/9 - I'm being patient with finding both a permanent apartment and vehicle. I think I've found a roommate, though. Yesterday I met with Bill (not the Bill from England), a teacher at Porterville High School who commutes from Los Angeles every week. We spent 20 minutes talking, and it seems like the perfect situation. We won't see each other very often because of our schedules, and I'd have an apartment to myself most of the time. But of course, I'm not sure if I completely trust him yet.

I think I'll go ahead with the Coast Guard idea. It seems like a smart way to go, and it's something that benefits other people. I left the recruiter in Fresno a message, but I haven't gotten a call back yet. At the very least, I'd like to talk to them to get all of the information possible. 

Curtain call on the year in England

8/9 - Today was my final full day in England.

It was spent visiting with some remaining friends and completing errands a person does right before they move, such as close down bank accounts and return library books. I walked through Bournemouth square, along the beach and onto the pier, something I had never done before, knowing this would be my final time seeing this place, in the sunlight and in the foreseeable future.

I met my dissertation advisor on campus, and I realised again that would be my final time stepping onto Talbot campus. Of course, there's a sense of awe there, the knowledge you should cherish this moment on a university campus that was so embarrassingly subpar. My advisor told me two things: (1 This past year was the second cohort ever for sport management at BU; this means it's a very young program, and the four of us in that program this year were guinea pigs. I asked why we were charged so much for a program that had such obvious flaws. And (2, as far as he is concerned, my dissertation earned a passing grade. It just needs to go through a second marker.

This meeting was great because I was able to apologise for being a complete dickhead to him throughout the summer while I struggled to understand how to write a thesis. There were no worries with him, so my time with him as my advisor ended on a high note. There's nothing to feel bad about.

I also spent a bit of time with Coach Charlie. The Bobcats begin practice for this upcoming season on Sunday, so I just missed out on it. It would have been great to get a few practices in, but I'm satisfied. I can now say (truthfully) I played college football!

I had lunch at 7Bone with Viral and Sammy as a last hurrah. I can't think of another place in Bournemouth I'd rather go for a last meal. Those burgers are fat, juicy and absolutely messy, and they're perfect in every way possible. They're the complete opposite of typical British food, which is unseasoned, bland and badly cooked.

This year at Bournemouth University in England turned out so different from what I expected. It turned out to be much better than anything I would have ever planned for 18 months ago. I thought this program would be like a full-time job, allowing for nothing but studying and writing papers; just the thought of living in England made me excited back then.

Fast forward 18 months, and what I got was a program that was not only incredibly soft, but it allowed me to do what I truly love to do: travel. It allowed me to visit 14 countries. Because of this program, I lived in Spain for a month. By participating in this program, I had the opportunity to see Lionel Messi score a hat trick in person in Barcelona, ride a horse on the beach in France, take a motorcycle 721 miles through Wales and into Snowdonia, go on two road trips to the Highlands of Scotland and down to Genoa in Italy, host Japanese High School students for a week in London, learn new sports, meet new people from all over the world and learn bits and pieces from several new languages. I got much more than I bargained for, and to think about how lucky I am that this happened to me is a little bit overwhelming.

I can't help but think about what I'm going back to in California and wonder whether I'm making the right choice, whether I'm taking a step back and going to the exact same situation I was in before. But I'm also at peace with that choice because I know things will be very different. I accomplished everything I wanted to during this year, and a little bit more. Porterville will be different. I'll travel more, and I still have Kenya to look forward to during Christmas. After that, my future is foggy, one that figures to split into many different directions representing what my next life choice will be. It obviously got much more complicated with all of the places and people I want to visit, and it's very difficult to decide what I want to do next.

This was the most incredible year of my life, and credit has to be made to my many friends to who made that possible. I hope to do something else big and challenging with my life very soon. I also have to thank Dave, a former member of the Recorder. If he hadn't royally pissed me off during my first stint there, I wouldn't have decided "fuck it, I'm going to England!" So, thank you, sir.

For those of you who have followed this blog over the year, I want to thank you for reading. I hope it has inspired you to do whatever the hell it is you want to do. This won't be the final entry in this blog (of course not!) but it's the end of Europe for me. It's the curtain call for American in Bournemouth. The name will obviously have to be changed once I get back to California (American in America doesn't seem very catchy to me).

Farewell to Paris, a cultural mecca

6/9 - 6 September, 2015: the day I fell in love with Paris. This was one of those days when everything added up to create one perfect day. There was nothing I'd change about it, as every pause, every decision to turn left or right, every decision to stop and listen to live street music turned out to be a brilliant decision that added to a day that compares with the best, made-for-forevor-memory adventures.

I can see why Parisiens say they fell in love with this city; no matter where you go, there is some sort of history, some sort of culture, some sort of art just waiting around the corner to be explored.

I leave Paris having had the complete opposite experience from 5 years ago. It was much more enjoyable. It didn't feel as if this was a foreign place; in fact, I was comfortable. Though one would think Spanish is of no use in France, I think it's a big reason why my time has been so much better. There are numerous Spanish and French words that are similar to each other, and because of that I can understand a little bit of written French. 

I've written about how adventures can only be an adventure if it is unplanned. You can't plan befriending a group of 4 Japanese law students visiting from Japan, going to dinner with them and helping them get comfortable speaking English with us. It was just like with the Kaichi students; it helps to simplify your language and speak slowly and clearly. Add in the reassurement that it's OK to make mistakes while speaking as long as others understand what you want to communicate, and they were very appreciative. We spent the afternoon and evening with them and got their contact information. When I visit Japan, I will now have a guide. Add that to the list of new countries I want to visit because I have contacts there now. Perhaps a Taiwan-Japan trip could be in the works in one year.

Though I left with a different perception of Paris, my view of the Louvre remains unchanged. I knew 5 years ago if only I visited again, expecting the crowds, I'd enjoy it more. Nope. It's a rip-your-hair-out stressful situation, especially around the Mona Lisa. The painting is behind glass, and there is a barrier 5 feet in every direction. Against this barrier is a massive crowd made up of all walks of life, each person craning their neck and sticking their camera in the air hoping to get a good picture; it's as if they're watching a rock concert. Especially on the first floor, there are waves upon waves of groups of tourists, intent on nothing besides snapping a picture. There are crowds blocking staircases, couples standing in the middle of paths, taking pictures and people simply walking around, recording with a selfie stick.

FUCK selfie sticks.

A selfie stick is a useful tool when you're doing something amazing, like jumping a motorcycle over a canyon, driving a car straight into a flaming stack of barrels and then flipping in the air while flames lick the side paneling or skydiving and then flying straight through a rock tunnel on the side of a steep and jagged mountain, not when you're standing in line for a museum. It makes you look stupid and narcissistic.

An art museum shouldn't make you feel this way, and this is why the Louvre is not the best art gallery in Paris; that honor goes to the Picasso Museum. So I decided to head towards a quieter and much less populated part of the museum, an area in which I knew my favorite painting is located. It's a French piece depicting Gabrielle d'Estrees. I remember it from 5 years ago because it's the most unique and thought-provoking painting in the museum (in my eyes). Needless to say, after communicating with museum employees in sign language, I was very excited to come across it again.

Having seen my favorite painting, the trip was a success. This just goes to show that the whole point of traveling is to meet completely random people, make new friendships and see the world, and all of this expands your mind while shrinking the world. If you have a chance to go somewhere, anywhere, new, take it. 

Sex museums in Paris, Disney and taking myself too seriously

2/9 - Paris has already been eventful. This is Angel's first time in Paris, and it's fun to see her squeal with delight at the sight of everything so new to her. It's also her first time Couchsurfing; she's lucky because our host, Pascal, is awesome! He's lived in this apartment for 30 years, so every inch of wall space is taken up by books, music or some sort of painting. There is ivy growing in the corners by the window, and best of all the flat is spotlessly clean. 

Pascal cooked some dinner for us after he finished with a massage appointment, and we shared the wine we brought for him as a thank-you gift for hosting, bought at a small, local shop from a dealer who says he only sells wine that is completely natural with no chemicals. We then shared some cheese and wine, one of my favorite snacks when in France, and many stories of travel, our school and some of politics. 

It turns out Pascal practices kung-fu as a way to keep active. He's 58 but looks 43. He walks as if he's in no particular hurry as if he's drifting along, and his hips move a little bit more than normal. Pascal is a person who likes to make contact on the shoulder or arm while in conversation, and he talked about not being a little bit scared of the perfect image portrayed by the Disneyland parks. It sounds as if the French really aren't that into Disneyland. But in all seriousness, this was an awesome place to stay, and Pascal was a perfect host. A total success.   

I had another moment today, a is-this-really-happening kind of moment. It was right around the time when I was eating escargot (snails in a garlic and butter sauce) while listening to an accordian in Paris. 

We visited the crypts of Notre Dame Cathedral, and while out front I took a small piece of bread from an older man and let the finches eat it right out of my hand. At points there were four birds attached to my hand. 

We attached locks to the love bridge, which is covered with thousands of locks to signify love, and Angel's Disney preconceptions of Paris were shattered when we took a stroll down the neighbourhood with Moulin Rouge and endless sex shops, strip clubs and sketchy groups of dudes who just watch you as you walk by. We took a break by entering an erotic museum and watching old, 1930s-era porn that gives new meaning to "Garden Tourism." 

3/9 - Certain cities have distinctive smells. Bruges smelled of Belgian waffles and ocean air. Milan and London have a stale, smoggy odor. Paris? You can't get away from cigarette smoke. People everywhere walk around with a fag, puffing. My friend Magda has smoked much more since she moved back to Paris in June. Perhaps this is one of the reasons people say they fell in love with this city. Magda and Pascal both said that; Paris has a unique smell, and it's alive. I like it much more than I did fove years ago, but maybe that's because the French were much less willing to speak English then. Now, as long as you try to speak French, they'll automatically switch to English for you.

They say Disneyland is where magic happens. That may be true for other Disney parks around the world, but Disneyland Paris is the black sheep of these parks. It doesn't make a profit and the French aren't the most enthusiastic about it. In the words of Angel and I, this park is "janky." It has the same rides as the parks in California and Florida, but there's really nothing new about it.

One goes to Disneyland to escape everyday life and to experience the illusion of magic. You'll get that, but as long as you bring plenty of money and have the patience to wait in exaggerated lines for everything, including for something as simple as a scoop of ice cream. After a couple of hours of that, it really is soul-crushing, and the inside of my head was like that girl who had a loud panic attack in the Haunted Mansion ride, probably because she was claustrophobic. Add in the presence of droning everything-is-snowflakes-and-sunshine-in-a-field-of-blossoms music, and my desire to retun has essentially been annihilated. But in an effort to be positive and not ruin Angel's time, I posed with Mickey Mouse and Spiderman.

I left Angel to continue her Disney geek-out (it later took her two hours to return because the trains just kept going) so I could meet up with Magda, whom I hadn't seen since June. But before I saw her I was distracted by a protest in the streets by French farmers and their hundreds of tractors. They were protesting the low prices of meat set by the government, and the noise from their horns and their scoops scraping the asphalt, mixed with the cheers and appreciative whoops of spectators made for some loud and eye-catching shenanigans.

Today is the first time I have used Airbnb. It's like Couchsurfing, but you pay the host and it's more like having a hotel room. It's less personal and you do it just to have a room, not to meet people. Like how I scored with Pascal with CS, Angel scored with Remy and his family as we have an amazing room with a balcony that wraps around two sides of the room on the fifth floor of the building. We have a home theater, ironing board, iron, hangars, kitchen and anything else we need until Monday. We have been incredibly lucky so far, and hopefully it continues.

4/9 - After miraculously finding Angel in the park this morning and talking to her, I realised I shouldn't take myself so seriously. I had to stop being a Disney hater and start acting like a kid. 

So from there I rode rides I remember well from childhood, like Thunder Mountain, Space Mountain and Star Tours. Everything is the same, except it's all in French. Thunder Mountain is a brilliant ride because the layout and scenery adds so much to the excitement. There's also the thrill of not knowing what will happen in the pitch black. I also surprised my friends by staying until closing time when the park put on a performance featuring sounds, film, water, fire, fireworks and the princess castle that assaulted the senses. 

5/9 - Today was a cross between seeing culture such as Van Gogh and Claude Monet paintings, and trying to shop while under the watchful eyes of suited Emporio Armani emplyees and doormen who know you have no shot of being able to afford anything, let alone the €850 blazer.

We went to the Arc de Triomph where we climbed stairs to the top to see all of Paris, and the Eiffel Tower. The best part was Angel's ecstatic reaction to seeing a famous landmark like that for the first time. I was like that 5 years ago when I first saw it. The Tower is incredible because it's one of those things in the world that looks so big, grand and beautiful it looks fake. So here's to traveling and its ability to make otherworldly landmarks seem normal. 

Morphing circumstances, submitted thesis and hindsight

29/8 - I am no longer a resident in Corfe House. It is the end of an era.

The cleanup of the room last night was a little bittersweet, as I had lived there for almost a year. I made some great friends there and have great memories of it. And though we had to clean up after Hunter, the American PhD student who literally never cleaned anything or helped us clean the kitchen to move out, the job got done.

And to end my time in that dorm on a high note, I told Stella I had a crush on her six months ago, something that should or should not have been said until now depending on who you ask. I felt great doing it, and though it was really weird to leave it until the very last second, it's better late than never.

With my bags all packed with less than what I arrived with, I set off for the train station. It was pretty depressing walking away from Corfe House. But this just signifies the end of one thing and the beginning of another. While cleaning the room last night, I reflected on the fact those were my last few hours living in this room on the 7th floor of a dorm that gave me an excellent view of the harbour. No longer will I have a view of Old Harry Rocks, Brownsea Island or Corfe Castle. Most of my friends have left for their respective homelands or new jobs. Suddenly, my world is very different, upended by fate and the future.

I still have about two weeks until I return to California on Sept. 9. In the meantime, I will stay with Danny (whose flat is literally right on the beach) and visit Disneyland Paris with Angel for five days. Unfortunately, my funds are starting to run out particularly after the trek to Scotland, and we will have to lie low in an expensive city.

About my dissertation, it's pretty much done. All I have to do now is print it, bind it and hand it in. There are 55 pages total. Can you believe I've traveled more this summer than I've worked on this thesis? I still got it done! Next challenge, please.

30/8 - I already miss my flatmates. Saturday was emotional because my routine has again been shredded (so suddenly too), and for the fact I can't have a beer with Tim or cook with Stella. I'm going to miss everyone on the top two floors. 

I already feel like it's a memory fading away from me, just like the thunderstorm I watched while lying on the beach at 1 a.m. Silent yellow and white flashes lit up the distant sky towards the Isle of Wight, and that storm perfectly represented my time here. It was crazy, memorable and intense, but the tail end of it is fading away into little more than a memory. 

While lying there, I once again marveled attempt he fact I've lived in Europe for a year. A YEAR! That thought is absolutely flabbergasting. This opportunity is easily the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. It has helped shape my view of the world and truly showed me the magic of travel. It helped me realise I want to do something that benefits humanity for a career. Coast guard? Firefighter? Peace Corps? I'm already thinking about the next big thing I'll do with my life, and it has to be big. It has to make me shit my pants. Most importantly, it has to be challenging. Though I've constantly bashed this university, the final three months was a challenge. But I overcame. 

And one more thing this year has taught me: I can do anything. 

31/8 - I think I'll go ahead with the Coast Guard idea. It'll be something that is challenging, and something that is actually a benefit to fellow humans. Like I said, I want to do another big thing with my life. 

Danny and I went to Okeford House to say goodbye to one of our friends. This is a dorm I wanted to live in before I came to BU. It is very close to campus, and I remember seeing it online. I wondered vaguely how things would be different in this dorm; hindsight is good for that. But it's also a waste of time. What's the point of looking back and wondering how things could have been? Things are the way they are for a reason. That's it. This is also a place I met more cool people such as Ariel from Taiwan. We hit it off immediately, and she is another contact in an Asian country should I choose to make the plunge and go there.

Angel and I snagged an agreement with a Couchsurfing host in Paris. I have a feeling this will be a very positive first experience for Angel. Our host is 58-year-old Pascal. He's the director of a dance academy and a masseuse, and he doesn't book more than 2 surfers at a time. He's also a gay nudist, and the fact I've done a nude photoshoot sparked his interest; it's something we have in common. Though I wasn't looking forward to this trip a few days ago because Paris isn't my favorite place, it'sshaping up to be another worthy-for-Michael travel story. 

9/1 - It's September, and that means one thing: my dissertation has been submitted. 

It was great to submit. I'm done. It's another accomplishment. I will leave the United Kingdom having accomplished everything I set out to do, which is live in a new country, travel, make memories and get a Master's. The reputation I leave with is a person who is chill (horizontal in the words of Bill), up for anything at any time and someone who gets around, not afraid of any adventure. The whole point of entering this program is to see if I could do it. A year ago, I saw this as another chance to be the student I never was. Fast forward to today:

Nope. 

I'll never be the perfect student. Academia just isn't my thing. I don't like how you're discouraged from enjoying learning; instead students go through school focused on passig some test or parroting other views and ideas from other writers in essays. But now that doesn't matter, as I've completed a thesis, which is far and away the longest paper I've done (14,666 words). 

So now I have two weeks until I start at

The Recorder. Next stop: Paris.

Salisbury, Scotland and taking charge

23/8 - It never fails.

Every time I get close to leaving a city, I make more friends and meet fascinating people, e.g. Joanna. She has great travel advice so I'll miss her. 

We took a random day trip to Salisbury on Saturday, and that included seeing the massive Salisbury Cathedral. However, I wasn't impressed because the Duomo di Milano has made all other cathedrals look ordinary. But it was still fun to go to coffee and tea shops and buy fruit at a discounted rate from farmers who were packing their truck for the evening. 

This is the twilight stage of my year in Europe, and it's bittersweet. I don't really want to leave, but I do at the same time. I took full advantage of this opportunity, and I go back to California a different person from the nervous kid who arrived in Poole on Sept. 13, 2014, worried about the distance from Corfe house to campus and the prospect of being in debt. The person who returns to California has been infected with the chronic sickness of insatiable travel and the need to explore this world. 

We made it to Glasgow, Scotland after driving about 460 miles. This'll be another wacky adventure, as this time there are four of us and two dogs: Rocky and fellow bull terrier Lancelot. They haven't met properly yet, as they have been kept on opposite ends of the car because Rocky goes all Rocky Balboa when another dog is near. 

But in the car it's me, Danny, Viral and Sammy. Since Viral is Indian, he's never had a dog before and doesn't know how to approach being around a dog. He doesn't understand the joys of dog ownership. Luckily for him, Rocky sat on his lap for four hours in the front seat while Viral awkwardly stroked his head and asked questions about dogs in general, such as whether some breeds are more dangerous than others. 

Sammy is from Guatemala and is a very quirky guy who makes random sounds and blurts out unexpected and hilarious phrases. So this means there are three people in the car who speak Spanish. Poor Viral. 

24/8 - There were challenges when Danny and I went on the road trip to Italy because of Rocky. Those challenges have multiplied 4.6 times with the addition of Lancelot, and it really has made for a quirky cast of characters on this trip. This is because Rocky is so unpredictable when other dogs are near, and there have been a few times he has become completely stressed out. 

When you visit Scotland, you realize how different it is to the rest of the UK. The Scots hate the English, and they take extreme offense when you confuse them with the English. In fact they almost voted in favor of independence from the UK last September with a 51-49 % vote. We were lucky we have some Scottish friends to show us around Glasgow, and you know you're in Scotland when you can only understand about a quarter of what your barber is saying during a haircut because the accent is so strong. 

We visited Loch Lomond today, and here it was demonstrated how difficult to decide on anything while traveling with a group like this. 

"What do you guys want to do? This or that?

"I don't care." 

Sometimes you just gotta take charge. So I decided to hire a kayak for £15 an hour, and that turned to be the smartest decision of the trip so far. It was thrilling to row across the Loch. It was soul-cleansing to row across completely still water in silence, to be splashed with cold water as one end of the oar went overhead. There were no motorboats, only the jagged hills around the loch, one of which was concealed in a cloud. For Viral, who had never used a kayak before, he was ecstatic because it was easy and fun. Who needs drugs when you have this kind of scenery in the world?

We made it to one of the islands in the loch, across from the village of Luss. We had it to ourselves, and of course because what else would you possibly do on the shore of a lake, we began to skip rocks. I have no idea how long the row to the island took (25 minutes?) but all I know is that it was immensely satisfying to accomplish something like that, aware of only how one end of the oar enters the water the most efficient way possible to push the kayak forward. It was something so simple yet so powerful in that you become awed by the natural beauty of the area. It's this kind of adventure you live for; this is what life is about, not sitting in a cubicle or working a job you strongly dislike just because it brings income.

But I was telling a friend today how beneficial it is to completely uproot yourself and move to an unknown location. If you're not scared by what you're doing, your goal is not big enough. 

25/8 - I strongly dislike traveling in a group, especially with people who don't get up and running before noon. It's so difficult and frustrating to be a part of this lethargy. Get your ass up and go.

27/8 - I lost my cool with Danny and Sammy on Tuesday. If you want to get somewhere far away, you have to leave the hotel earlier than 12:30 p.m. Don't be surprised that things are closed when you arrive after 6 p.m.

Danny's Scottish friend and Glasgow native Charlene went with us to Loch Ness, so I hopped in the car with her, hoping to get away from the other three. I'm glad I did because I was able to learn more about Scotland from a Scot, including why Scotland wants independence from the UK. We drove nearly 150 miles through Perth, Cairngorms National Park, the Highlands and eventually into Inverness. From there we headed back south and straight to Loch Ness. The Highlands are beautiful, as they're tinged with purple from all of the heather. And when the sun escapes the clouds, the purple and green colors are vibrant.

We stopped in a village about halfway down the Loch, and all of us stayed in one room. That's seven of us, and the management were OK with all of us using it, as long as the dogs didn't mess anything up. And since we knew some of the group wouldn't be ready for a while, Viral and I got breakfast early in the morning and then went for a hike. There's something greatly refreshing about walking through the woods during gentle rain that makes everything wet and smell fresh.

We drove to Edinburg and spent a few hours there, and everyone agreed it is a beautiful city. Luckily, it was easier to drive in the center compared to Milan, though still hectic. We drove to Arthur's Seat, a large hill overlooking the city, and when the car was stopped, I didn't ask for anyone's opinion; I immediately began to climb the hill. It was so satisfying to get to that wind-lashed top. It was a fantastic idea of Danny's. But after driving for 625 miles through curvy, dark roads perfect for a motorcycle while blasting house and metal music, we're back in Poole. I need to get this dissertation done and we had to return the car.

Viral actually drove for an hour in the middle of the night, but it was his first time driving in this country, and I suspect first time ever. He didn't understand which lane to drive in or how fast he should have been going. His driving was more effective for waking me up than Red Bull. 

And with that, the trip to Scotland is over and done with. We decided not to visit Ireland because the ferry was too expensive. The next time I visit, I'll hike the Highlands and go to the Isle of Skye; it looks otherworldly in pictures. If there's one thing I learned from this trip, it's that you can't control when others decide to wake up and get moving. If you want to do something, you gotta take charge and make it happen. Indecisiveness murders adventure. 

I found a quote during our stay in Glasgow that will remain with me forever. It's something that should always be kept in mind for an adventure: 

Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.

Charlene, Danny, Rocky, Viral and Sammy