Screaming eels & faerie ponies.

I am not afraid of much.  Spiders…love them.  Dark, creaky forests…sounds peaceful.  Sharks…the closer I can get, the better.

However.  There are two things (and only two) in this world that scare the bejeezus out of me.  Ghosts…and…water snakes.  Why do I bore you with my fears?  Because I will be facing them both…in 22 days.  (Also, I apologize for the excessive use of the period.  I write how I talk.)

It is time to tell you about THE TRIP.  It is the stuff dreams are made of.

So, yes.  We are going to Ireland.  From November 19-27, we will be driving our little matchbox rental all over the magical isle.  Homebased in County Clare, our little cottage shall provide us warmth from the wood fireplace after long, rainy days traversing the limestone Burren, cozy couches to curl upon after guiding a pony and trap across the Aran Islands, a kitchen and full dining room from which we can host a Thanksgiving meal for our newly found Irish mates, and two bedrooms to dream away in after gaping in awe at the Cliffs of Moher.  The story goes that a group of faerie ponies threw themselves over the cliffs in the times of yore.  Ponies?  Faeries?  One of nature’s greatest creations?  Count us in.  We are pretty much smack dab right in the middle of the country, making it easy to take a trip up to Dublin if we so choose, go south to the Dingle Peninsula and have a Guinness with Bono, and have morning walks along quiet one lane roads in the middle of the country side.  Oh, and County Clare is known as the home of traditional Irish music.  Spontaneous jam sessions break out in the pubs regularly.  Bring your fiddle, Meggie.  Pubs…keeping Megan and Kalena entertained since 2002.

After this most amazing of weeks, we are returning the midget car to Dublin and hopping on a RyanAir flight (Hello!  8 Euros to fly?!  Yes please!) to Manchester.  Upon arrival, we will make our way to Anderton Marina where we will pick up our next mode of transportation/lodging (November 27-3).  A canal boat.  Narrowboat.  Small canals were carved into the English countryside in the medieval times to transport goods into the villages.  Over time, these fell out of use as industry and technology surpassed the slow moving barges that traversed these waterways.  They have been resurrected and now are home to one of England’s most popular holiday pastimes.  Boat rentals on the canal consist of one VERY long (60 foot), VERY skinny (7 foot) floating barrel of fun.    

The boat is steel hulled and tops out at about 4 mph.  Good thing since they basically just hand it over and set you loose.  Yes, you read that right.  We are responsible for driving this thing.  And drive it we shall.  Captain Megan and First Mate Kalena will explore England from a totally new angle, cruising quietly through beautiful countryside and villages, and mooring up wherever our mood suits us (and for our daily cocktail hour). 

We will maneuver ourselves through archaic locks, frighteningly high aquaducts, and pitch black mile long tunnels.  One such tunnel is reportedly haunted.  By a headless woman.  Who screams.  Not. My. Cup. Of. Tea.  Megan will probably have to tie me to the tiller just so I don’t abandon her and hide in the tiny boat bathroom.

This is a good time to mention the eels.  No, not the band (however, listen to this for pleasure to your ears).  Real eels.  The canals are stocked with them.  Some Englishman thought they might be a yummy dish, and unfortunately, have turned into delicacy when jellied.  Jellied Eels.  ICK. 

Last week, I had a dream that an eel actually jumped out of the water and landed in the boat.  Last night, Megan and I made a pact that we would not dance on top of the boat (yes, this would happen) for fear that we fall overboard and be subject to the eels.  Megan seems to think that if we tie ourselves to something, we’ll be ok because we can just drag ourselves back to the boat and back on board.  I am going to spend the whole week tied to a chair.

These eels thrive in dark, muddy crevices.  Now, remember the pitch black, mile long, haunted tunnel?  Yeah.   Eels and ghosts. 

I’d rather not be eel food.  Thanks.

What Ireland lacks in car rental policies, they better make up for in beer, music, and men.

CDW, DBP, TP, PAI, CDI... WTF?!!?

Really? I wasn't aware that I needed to have my decoder ring handy just to decipher Irish car rental websites. After what seemed like days spent scouring the internet for ideas on car rentals, help with car rentals, and people's various experiences renting cars in Ireland, we've finally figured it out. And, we have email proof of what they told us. Kalena is a genius, she's got it in writing. Apparently Ireland is a dangerous place to drive, because they require you have all sorts of insurance, just in case, for extra peace of mind.

In the US and many other countries, your major credit card will usually cover this insurance, in the event we forget to put the emergency brake on and let the VW roll off the Cliffs of Moher. In Ireland, this is not the case. They make you pay 14.80 EUR (or $20.68) DAILY for peace of mind. I keep thinking if we spent $20 a day on beers, we'd have another kind of peace of mind altogether, and really not give a care that the bloody car went rolling off the cliffs. Just sayin'. So for roughly $300, the smallest vehicle we could find (can you even call this a car?!) will be touring us over hill and dale and helping these two sister cats traverse Ireland. We're excited for the VW. We will inevitably come up with a spectacular name for our trusty chariot. Suggestions?

With the CRC (Car Rental Confusion) behind us, Kalena and I are back to looking forward to the many adventures that lie ahead. We spend evenings planning outings, reading Irish books... it seems as though EVERYTHING in our lives revolve around this trip. We've each started what we like to refer to as "Famine Diets." This actually has less to do with losing weight as it does with saving money. We're eating super, super cheap up until the trip. We're not going out until the trip, well, unless someone else pays for us, because we think the famished Irish would approve of that. Its just us being resourceful. And the Irish are known for their resiliency. Kalena is practically living off oatmeal, and I have finally made a dent in that 10 pound bag of rice I bought at Costco years ago. We'd rather eat rice and oatmeal for weeks than spend money here before we go. We went shopping yesterday with the sole purpose of purchasing clothes for Ireland. Outfits need to be planned. This is the trip of a lifetime, and it is not to be taken lightly. Yes... we realize the irony involved in not spending money on food, but then going shopping. What can we say, our priorities are in the right order. And you could say we have tunnel vision right now... Ireland. England. Fun. Laughter. Music. Dancing. Pubs. Boats. Its going to be amazing.

Megs

Welcome to the Big Top.

Yes. Welcome to the circus. For example, pray you partake in this little gem:

I really can't explain it. And this was before the sweet taste of alcohol flowed across our lips (well, maybe not before...but before too much.). This is simply what happens when Megs and I are left to our own devices, with one another, for extended periods of time. I believe we were supposed to be packing at the time we took this picture to go home for the holidays. We got far. And 10 years later, we are (at our cores) those same girls. We are sister cats.

Around the same this picture was taken, Megs gave me a card (that I am looking at and have kept to this day). On the front, it said "In another life, we were sisters. And cats. Sister cats." And inside, "You had two different color eyes, but it was cute." Now, Megs and I do not have different colored eyes (in fact, we have almost identically colored eyes. See the middle picture on the left in our header.), but the card was practically written by us...and I mean that it is something that we would actually say. We may not make much sense to other people, but we make sense to us. It doesn't help that at the time we were very interested in discussing our "old souls" and past lives. Oh, and we were living with three cats (cats is really not a good word for them as they were almost as big as my dog). So, it fit. And it stuck.

Watch out Ireland. You really have no idea.

Its kind of like DWTS, only without stars. Or dancing for that matter.

Though perhaps there will be dancing.  After all, you can't expect two girls to go pub crawling in Ireland and not partake in an Irish jig or two.  Or five. 

Thats the reason for this here blog.  We're taking a trip.  Crossing the pond.  Going home.  Fishing for eels.  Looking for men that show up on the doorstep with Guiness instead of flowers.  And, we're sure there will be a bit o' history and maybe some sight seeing involved as well.  But mainly pubs, jigs, music, men, boats, eels, and lots of laughter. 

Who ARE we?  Silly question Rabbit.  We are US.  We are Kalena and Megan.  Kiwi and Mango.  Kiki and Meggie.  Chamique and La Shonda.  We've had years and years (18 years to be exact) to get to know each other, create countless memories, play thousands of minesweeper tournaments, and develop a friendship that is strong enough to withstand the sands of time... and our many past lives.  Which, oddly enough, never really involved beaches.  Or sand.  Hmmmm.  So, we're taking a trip.  And we've a started a blog.  There will be beaches, but not of the tropical variety.  More the moody, brooding beaches you read about in the tales of Yore and Yesteryear.  There will be boats.  Yes, we'll be on a boat.  Bitch.  We're on a narrow boat.  Fishing for eels.  With our nautical themed pashmina afghans.  Kalena is on a hunt to find the best fish and chips in the land....  and what goes best with fish and chips?  EELS!   That, and a hoppy brew.  Do we even need to mention the pubs?  There WILL be pubs.  And Irish dancing.  And ponies with traps.  You, our readers (the 2 of you that exist right now) have NO idea what you are in for.  We will blow your mind. 

We thought about keeping travel journals.  We thought about writing postcards.  But, what other medium would allow us to put videos, pictures, homemade musicals, reenactments of epic Shakespearean works, and much more for your viewing/reading pleasure?  Hence, a blog.

We land on Irish shores in 45 days.  We can't wait.  The excitement and anticipation is killing us.  In the weeks leading up to our departure we'll be sharing with your some bits of Megalena (yes, we JUST came up with that.  Bril.) history.  You'll learn the origin of our motto: Be Not Eel Food.  The story of the sister cats, the meaning of Anam Cara, and Ohana.  We hope you like it.  We do.  We can tell.  Its good.  If you don't think so, read it again tomorrow, you'll probably get our jokes by then.  If not, well then, we'll feed you to the eels. 

Slainte,

Megan & Kalena
(Megalena)