Traveling As A ‘Billy No Mates’

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Life has been pretty full on lately; I just turned 30, I’ve done a few inaugural festivals to mark the start of summer, I’ve played host to my immediate and extended family on separate occasions in Dublin, and all the while my travels and ‘7 continents by 30’ goal have sat on the back burner.

Busy-ness is partially why I haven’t added to my global adventures, but perhaps a bigger set back is that I have been waiting on a new passport – my old one wasn’t to expire until next year, but as first world problems go, I had filled it up with stamps. No more pages = no more travels. My solution to my full passport WAS to book travel though. Makes total sense, right? Hear me out.

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Festival Season Is Upon Us

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It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

I thrive at festivals, and the reason is I believe I am my ‘best self’ at them. There’s ‘Work Brittney’, ‘Home with no bra Brittney’, ‘Responsible Brittney’, etc, and then there’s ‘Festival Brittney’ (where I also may not wear a bra).

My boyfriend Andy has always said I remind him of Stevie Nicks. I guess I give off a free spirited, ‘zero fucks given’, airy-fairy kind of attitude. He sees my gypsy. I take this as a compliment, and ‘Festival Brittney’ really embraces the Stevie Nicks persona; the fashion, the music, the whole shebang.

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Always Take the Weather With You ☀

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I have trust issues with the weather.

I never used to be this way, but a move to the Emerald Isle has instilled a constant fear of rain in me – even if the forecast is calling for nothing but sunny rays. This fear stems from my horrible mistake once of leaving the house without a rain jacket or brolly – I had to run a few errands before a night out and there was not a cloud in the sky when I left, so an honest mistake at that. In Ireland, shops still insist on giving you paper bags for your purchases…earth-friendly, but silly. And as it usually does, the sun quickly turned to rain that day, my brown shopping bags turned into dust, and my highly anticipated night out turned into a smashed  bottle of wine in the middle of Grafton Street and a drowned rat looking me. Sexy.

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