Back to England, more Japanese students and issues at Heathrow

15/6 - Hello from London.

There was no feeling of eager, giddy excitement for me while waiting at the gate in LAX. This is just another familiar place; I know it well. London is like my other home. After arriving at Heathrow, taking the tube to Kings Cross and walking to my hostel, I feel completely at home here. I'm comfortable. The accents, the signs, the different language, cars that drive on the left side of the road, the ancient buildings...none of it present the unknown.

I first visited London in 2010 for a month. This is the first international city I visited in my life. While riding the tube from Heathrow, I reflected on the past six years and how my life has shaped up. London has obviously been a heavy influence on my life because I seem to find myself here quite frequently. This city has a special place in my being, and I'm thankful to be here again. In fact, it doesn't even feel like I'm traveling because I know this place too well. London is like that old friend you embrace and interact with as if the two of you never left, but in fact you haven't seen each other for years. I'm happy to be reunited with my old friend.

As for the journey here, there were of course some bumps along the way. My day started with my debit card being flagged down for fraud after I tried to buy a Eurostar ticket (the train that connects London to Paris) before notifying my bank. That meant I couldn't fill my car with fuel before leaving Porterville. I was getting stressed out and eventually had to laugh. No adventure is complete without a snag like that.

After landing at Heathrow, I waited an hour at border security. While talking to the customs agent, she got suspicious of me and retained my passport and made me sit in a small area out of the way with a couple of other people. She was gone with my passport for about 15 minutes. I think she got suspicious when I misunderstood one of her questions. She asked if I had been back to the United Kingdom or Ireland since I left England last September. I said no, not hearing the part about Ireland. That confused her because of the stamp from Ireland in my passport.

I flew with Air New Zealand because that was the cheapest ticket I could find, but it might be my new favorite airline. There were absolutely no issues at any point in the process. Customer service was friendly, the food was surprisingly fresh and tasty and the seats comfortable. To top it off, the airline produced a Men In Black spoof to present the safety spiel at the beginning of the flight. It was so creative it made me smile; no other airline has managed to make me enjoy the safety information video, so credit to Air New Zealand. This is difficult to do because that information becomes so repetitive the more you fly. You eventually know it by heart.

16/6 - I realized today I'm a Londoner. I do not get chills from the sites of Big Ben, Parliament or the London Eye anymore. They are simply features of the city. My friend Chris said this is how people who actually live in the city feel. But despite the lack of a chill down my spine, I'm still very much happy to be in London, a city that holds a special meaning to me. It was also great to stroll the city with Chris for a few hours.

I met my group from Kaichi High School today after arriving at Brunel University. There are seven kids in my group, each with a different level of English. Luckily, the group is more talkative than the one last year. It was also great to see friends from last year's program as well, including Jess, the woman who introduced me to it. I can already see how this year is much more different than last year. This is because I feel more confident and I already know people.

And this year, excuse me for sounding arrogant, but it seems I'm much more interesting just for the simple fact I flew from California to be here. The people who I have told that too were all surprised, and it's great fun to see Japanese students react to that kind of information. Additionally, the photo I sent the program several months ago features the huge beard I used to sport. I've already been told several times it looked great!

17/6 - Tatsuki, Shunsuke, Nono, Arimas, Nazomi, Ryunosuke and Yuma have already warmed up to me, compared to last year when it didn't happen until the second to last day. They all spoiled me on the bus back from Hampton Court today with gifts of food and Japanese soaps, and they are actually talking to me rather than me having to initiate all conversation. It's quite enjoyable.

At Bourton on the Water, all of the kids had an order of fish and chips, complete with tartar sauce and vinegar. I did much of the same as last year, such as taking the kids to that 1/9-size model of the village. We also spent a lot of time searching for a place that was open to serve food before noon. But the best part of the day was Shunsuke, with my encouragement, marching up to a group of local kids, introducing himself, shaking hands and speaking with them. That's how you strengthen your language skills! The kid is a stud (he plays baseball at school).

From left: Arima, Tatsuki, Shunsuke, Ryunosuke, Nozomi, Yuma, Nono, Michael

We also visited Hampton Court today. It's always interesting to stroll the palace and read more about the shenanigans of King Henry VIII and King George I; maybe I'm just getting old...

But typical of England, it rained off and on today interspersed with bright sunlight. I broke out my sunglasses, which inspired Nono and Shunsuke to rock shades as well. My group has already shown some personality!

Tomorrow we'll do group presentations and see a Kyogen, which will be translated into English this year. I'm really looking forward to it!

Airport adventures, a crab fisherman and Belgian beer

3/1 - The travel day from Dublin back to Porterville on Saturday was worthy of its own blog. The biggest lesson for the day?

Ethiopian Airline sucks. Never again. My first experience with the airline in Los Angeles was no fluke.

After trying to sleep in Dublin Airport for five hours, the airline wanted to verify my payment card. I used a different card to pay for the flight, but that account is closed now. The woman at the desk told me a person would be over in two minutes to verify the card, so I moved to the side to wait.

Forty-five minutes later, still no one had helped me. I was visibly annoyed at this point, pacing back and forth and knocking on the counter with my knuckles. I sarcastically asked the check-in lady, "should I just come back another time when it's less busy?" The fact an Irish guy named Eddy was going through the same thing, but in his case it was more than two hours of waiting, should make the airline ashamed of itself. Eddy was fuming, at one point calling the check-in people assholes to their faces.

Once someone finally made their way over to help us, the whole process took less than five minutes. It was shockingly bad customer service. United in our combined mistreatment from the airline, Eddy and I formed a brief friendship. I found out he is the captain of F.V. Stella, a fishing boat in Alaska. This is the exact kind of boat you see on the television show "Deadliest Catch." We talked about it for a few minutes, and I gave him my business card after saying I'd love to try crab fishing for a season because there's a sense of danger there (it also pays incredibly well).

After completing the 10-hour flight back to Los Angeles and putting up with a screaming brat who actually lay face down in the isle a few times just screaming at the top of her voice, I had one more travel hurdle to overcome, and this is where the story really gets interesting. Since my flight was delayed an hour because of the terrible customer service, I missed my Amtrak bus to Bakersfield.

I bought an Amtrak ticket for a bus leaving Union Station, but I didn't know how far that station was away from LAX. I had a travel plan; it was just badly planned and executed. Since I missed my first bus, I called Amtrak and changed the ticket to a later bus which was about an hour later. After waiting for the shuttle to Union Station (which costs $7), I realized I'd be late for this one as well.

After another call to Amtrak to change my bus to a later departure, I found out the later departure was sold out, so it was either this bus in less than an hour or I'd have to find a place to stay in Los Angeles for the night. After a moment of brief panic and a "what am I supposed to do?!" to the person on the phone because I had to get across Los Angeles in about 40 minutes, my head cleared.

From that point I was forced to use my last and most desperate option to get across the city: a taxi. Luckily I had a good driver, an Ethiopian man (coincidence?) who zoomed me downtown and to Union Station in 25 minutes, five minutes before my bus left. After running through the station, frantically trying to figure out where my bus was, I made it, breathless and sweating. All things considered, the $60-plus fare to get me there was worth it, but that was one close call.

The bus trip to Bakersfield and train ride to Corcoran were uneventful besides the fact I sat next to a man who had been released from prison that day after a three-year stay. He had nothing with him besides the sweatsuit on his back and a few papers. I let him use my phone to get a ride from the train station because I'd want someone to help me if I were in his shoes.

I was happy to be back in Porterville that night, something I won't say too often. It was a long, expensive and stressful day, but it was also filled with crossing paths with fascinating people. Having an adventure and a good memory sometimes begins in the airport terminal, so the fact the day was difficult is no problem. I'm not angry; it's a great story!

4/1 - Despite being jetlagged, I visited some friends in Visalia on Sunday. To their house I brought my favorite beer: Trapistes Rochefort No. 10. I was pleasantly shocked to find it in a BevMo in Visalia. Though the bottle wasn't aged for more than a year like the one I had in Wales, this was still a damn good bottle of beer and well worth this $8-per-bottle price tag. It was a great way to spend a Sunday back in the Central Valley.

The rain jacket I took with me to Ireland absolutely reeks with the combined odor of wood smoke, sweat, dirt and manure. I unfolded it at the dry cleaners on the counter, and the odor made me take a step back. It served a useful purpose and I'm fortunate to have had it, but, damn, that was an awful smell. Fortunately, I have no pictures of the smell.

New Years in Dublin, Irish music and fellow Americans

30/12 - The journey into Dublin and to my hostel couldn't have gone smoother.

Unexpectedly, the bus dropped me off in the center of Dublin; I thought I would have to get a bus from the airport. I only had to walk five minutes to get to the hostel, which I saw from the bus. And as with being in a large, bustling city, I was itching to get off the bus so I could explore.

I'm in a 6-bed dormitory, and besides one drunk Irishman who came in at 3:30 a.m., I'm the only person in the room. But today I just wandered around, ate a falafel and felt at peace with the world. Dublin has been super chill so far, and I have nothing but good things to say about the city and this hostel. 

My hostel, the John Gogarty Hostel, sits above the pub named after the same person. It gets very busy in the evening, because there is live Irish music for about 12 hours every day. This pub has had a different vibe to any other bar I've experienced because of the fact most people sing along with the musicians and are committed to the song. It's very lively.

1/1 - My stay in Dublin has not followed the theme that began this trip to Ireland, namely, there have been no snags, snafus or fuck-ups, besides the fact I lost my room key (it was free to replace). It has been, forgive me for being cheesy and cliche, a perfect end to a perfect year. 

Dublin, particulaly my neighborhood, The Temple Bar, is incredible. The nightlife is perfect. Inside every pub is live accoustic music. Sometimes the music is fantastic, but the price of being packed into the pub like sardines and getting knocked around by others navigating through the crowd, such as on New Years Eve last night, isn't worth staying for. 

My favorite pub, The Temple Bar, is chaotic to say the least. It's always filled to capacity, there's always live music and every available space is taken up by something, whether it be pictures, foreign money, a large Santa Claus clutching handfulls of candy canes, police/EMT/fire badges from many different countries, lights and many other things. 

Luckily I was able to celebrate the New Year with Jessica and Emily, two Americans I met in my hostel. We spent the afternoon and evening drinking IPA and cider, but we drank smart by eating plenty and drinking water. It's always refreshing to spend a holiday with someone, especially when they're from the same country as you. 

I wandered around Dublin yesterday, stumbling across the National Gallery and  Little Museum of Dublin, so my day featured much more than just the drink. I even got a haircut and a beard trim from a barber; there are few things better than a good haircut in a strange city. Dublin is turning out to be one of my favorite places.

Today was more wandering around, but I did take a tour of the whiskey museum, had an Irish coffee and saw the new Star Wars movie (which was excellent). I saw more examples of why Dublin is so enjoyable: it's very colorful. There is so much street art on building walls that gives the city so much personality.

Despite the one hiccup of losing my key card and my shoes getting soaked through with so much rain, the trip to Dublin was a massive success. The trek to Ireland couldn't have been better, either, even with some of the cringe-inducing horror stories of the crashed Ethiopian Airlines system or being presented with the idea of getting deported from Ireland. It was a balance of complete opposites, with farm work in lonely northwest Ireland to raging New Years Eve parties in a big city. Considering my plan wasn't to come to Ireland until a week before departing, I think I did pretty well for myself. 

With it being 2016 now, I won't bore you reflecting on 2015; you've already read plenty of times about what I've done, where I've gone and what I've accomplished. But I will say this: moving to England and visiting 16 countries in 2015, and all of the stories that came from that, made me more confident in myself. Despite how arrogant it sounds, this past year has made me a much more interesting person as well. It made me realize I can do anything; it doesn't matter how many miles away from home I am or the language barrier of that country. Adventure never stops. 

So here's to 2016, a year in which hopefully my travels will continue and one more person will be inspired by the contents of this blog. That's my New Year's Resolution. 

Remember, an adventure begins as soon as you open the door. But for me at the moment, adventure means waiting in Dublin Airport for five hours in the middle of the night, flying for 10.5 hours and then spending several more getting back to Porterville. At least I'm not sick with the flu this year.

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.