When I was a kid, I spent every Saturday afternoon at the Palace movie theater watching whatever movie they were showing: Gigi, The Nutty Professor, A Hard Day’s Night…it didn’t matter. My cousin and I were each given a dollar and got dropped off for the matinee. Admission was 35 cents; the rest was for Milk Duds and Good and Plenties.

One afternoon the movie was The Fighting Prince of Donegal, a 1966 Disneyification of the true story of the 16th century Irish Prince, “Red Hugh” O’Donell. Peter McHenry—two years earlier he had captured my heart in The Moon-Spinners with Haley Mills—showed up on the screen with the Donegal Castle and I had one thought: When I grow up, I want to go there.

It took sixty years, but I finally made it!

Phase One of The Big Trip was five days in beautiful Donegal, Ireland. Donegal is the most northwestern part of Ireland, an untouristed place of dramatic cliffs and miles-long beaches.

We spent our time there at the magical, romantic Bee Pods. Our “Hive” was perched up high above Rossnowlagh Beach…

Our days started with Siobhan’s fresh and delicious breakfasts…

And ended with grilling on our Big Green Egg or making pizzas in the pizza oven…

…followed by a treat from Siobhan and William. One night this:

Another this:

Then Michael lit up the fire pit, we’d roast some homemade marshmallows, pour a whiskey, and talk as the sun dropped into the ocean. (We were so far north that it was still light at 10:30)

In between, we took boat rides and seaweed baths, walked along cliff tops, visited distilleries and Pygmy goats. In other words, we hated to leave.

Our final day was spent in Donegal Town (the castle!), an old fashioned-y little town on the sea with a delightful abundance of pubs and the best Indian restaurant in Ireland.

Why, you might be wondering, is this under What I’m Writing? Because, friends, I decided not to take my computer on The Big Trip. Instead, I brought my trusty notebook and my favorite Pilot 1.75 pens. I want to take this month—which is a mixture of work and play—to let my imagination run wild. And it is. Joyfully wild.

For some people, travel is hard work. Navigating different languages and trains schedules; food and customs and even the air we breathe all so different. For some, travel means tight schedules or jamming in a lot of places in not enough time. For me, traveling is being free. It’s just being. Time to think and dream and immerse myself in new experiences. What better way is there to feed our souls?

No wonder I was a flight attendant!

The other night, someone very kindly told me how much she enjoyed this newsletter. It always feels good to hear that something I wrote makes someone happy or thoughtful or touches their heart in some way.

Just as I was feeling all warm and fuzzy, another person said, “Well, it’s okay. But I have no interest in knitting so I skip a lot of it.” Goodbye, warm and fuzzy! Hello darkness, my old friend (Irish style)!

I explained that knitting is both real and metaphorical for me, but it was too late—I already felt lousy. All the insecurities a writer has about her work bubbled up: it’s boring, it’s bad, no one wants to read it. Yes, over thirty books later and that can still happen! Why do people think writers are immune to harsh criticism? Why do some people have the urge to share negative comments? Sometimes, aren’t the sounds of silence better?

So, to readers who don’t skip this part, here’s what I’m knitting (and the metaphor!).

Thank you, thank you, reader Julia Morris-Myers! The Giverny Cowl is the absolute best project for travel! And the yarn! Look at these colors! (the gorgeous green out my window isn’t bad either)

The first seven inches knit up really fast and I was feeling very happy. Then I hit a decrease row and the next instructions for finishing the cowl and Hello darkness, my old friend! I could not get the thing right.

Three froggings and then I consulted with my on-site expert Annabelle. “Do I have to do these decreases?” She looked at the cowl. She looked at the directions. “Not if you don’t want to,” she said, setting me free.

Knitting, like writing, allows us to create, make mistakes, delete, revise, improvise. As I think about my revisions ahead, that cowl, with all its perfect rows and all its messed up ones, is giving me inspiration, row by row.

The next phase of The Big Trip!

From Dingle we are heading to Bilbao, Spain. Just like my childhood dream of visiting Donegal some day, I’ve wanted to go to the Guggenheim in Bilbao since it first opened in 1997.

Even as I’m enjoying every pint of Guinness and every rainbow, I am getting excited about our upcoming week in Bilbao and San Sebastián.

Thank you, as always, for reading! I hope your days are full of creating, revising, and improvising too. That you can hold on to that fleeting happy feeling when someone blurts something or when your pretty even rows go haywire…

I’ll leave you with a little something of what it’s like here in Dingle, where music spills out into the streets and fills the air…