Ina strange way I feel connected to this place. 
The sounds, the smells, the sea all somehow feel familiar to me.
Perhaps it is the silent 'h' after in three and there that takes me back to my own Wild Atlantic Way.
Maybe the earthiness that grounds the people and connects us despite our race and creed.
I feel connected to this place and look forward to visiting it once more.

I was never fond of tunics to be honest. When you're busty with a small waist, you end up hiding your shape with loose fitting tops. The only times I do wear them is when I am traversing the Amazonian and Sub-Saharan Jungles where loose-fitting clothing is imperative: light and airy, and adaptable to varying climates.
Whilst in Ireland, we took a trip to the Aran Islands. A place reminiscent of the Iron Islands in Game of Thrones (I mean they sound the same, and the rocky terrain doesn't fall far from the topography of the 'fictional' location), when traveling through the Aran Islands, it is good to layer layer layer. One moment the sun is beating down on you, and the next a cold Atlantic front could send you back into hiding.


As a result, I found myself dependent on my People Tree tunic with hand-embroidered designs, a pair of organic cotton leggings from SeaSalt Cornwall and my shoes of the season--Palmaira Sandals.

I end this post with one of my favourite lines from James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake
Bite my laughters, drink my tears. 
Pore into me, volumes, spell me stark and spill me swooning, 
I just don’t care what my thwarters think.

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