Aleria's Adventures

Where the mountains come down to the sea along the Wild Atlantic Way Home is a question I've been contemplating my entire life. So on this day, my birthday, I will begin to try to answer that question. I published a post recently about having found home along the wild Atlantic way in Ireland. Today, I want to explore the meaning of home and ask a new question: how did I know it when I found it? Is home the landscape that burns itself into your psyche? When you ask people what 'home' means to them, you'll get a variety of different answers. Some of them are dependant on culture, others on circumstance. Home to many is the place you live. For some it's where you came from. For others it's where they are heading to. For some it is the house they grew up in. For others it is the house they built. For me a house never equates with the concept of home. A house can be an empty place. Home is warm and inviting. The place you feel safe and content. The

To write or not to write is never the question Almost a month ago now, we released Cruising the Wild Atlantic Way . It's been an interesting few weeks and we are now awaiting a shipment of books to take to book stores around the country to see if we might sell a few in the local shops in towns mentioned in the book.  We know we won't be getting wealthy from this effort, but it is quite rewarding to get a positive review and know that today, you made someone smile.