What's In A Name?

On my recent travels, I was surprised at how many questions I was asked about my name in almost every country I visited. It wasn't something I was prepared for really, not expecting to find people interested in it. Many of the South Americans seem to put a lot of emphasis on names and what they mean, so I duly went about researching the origins of my own name. Here's what I found out:

A google search of my surname "Moriarty" brought up quite a few pages. In Gaelic, it is O'Mhuircheartaigh - this much I knew - what I didn't know was that the Gaelic derivation of it means "The Navigator". This information appealed to me a lot, for obvious reasons. Other meanings of the name taken down from Gaelic are "noble", "illustrious", "great", "exalted".

Nothing bad so far!


So, what about the Moriartys? Well, going way back they come from County Kerry in the South-West of Ireland, the neighbouring county to where I now live. Here's some of what I found out about them.

The great Gaelic family Moriarty emerged in later years in county Kerry. This distinguished Irish Clann were descended from O'Muirtheataith, who was descended from Domhnall, King of Munster, and possessed the "Flock abounding Plain" of Aisde on the river Mang in that county. They also held Castlemaine Harbour. They lost much of their territories in the Anglo/Norman invasion of Strongbow in the year 1172 and they were ousted by the Fitzgeralds. They also branched to Kells in county Meath but this was also confiscated. The Moriartys were a strong ecclesiastical family and the Rev. David Moriarty was Bishop of Kerry, but many of them lost their right to preach under the Penal code of 1714. Notable amongst the family at this time was Father Thady McMoriarty

What really jumped out at me from the particular piece was the fact that the Moriartys were ousted by the Fitzgeralds. Interestingly, my mother is descended from the Fitzgerald clan, her own mother being a Fitzgerald! Anyway, I'm digressing there.

Our own Moriarty clan come from Sneem which is deep in the heart of Kerry - quite a remote and mountainous region. It's strange but both my brother and I are always drawn back to Kerry and its mercurial mountains, and he especially walks and knows these ranges very well. Genes are funny things. How do we know what traits and characteristics we carry down through the generations. Are there qualities that are inherent in any of our lineages? It's certainly thought provoking, and it's really got my interested in tracing my family tree sometime. I never cared about this stuff much in the past, but I'm start to really wonder about who I am, why I like certain things - is it simply because I'm a unique individual or am I "made up" a particular way?

Anyway, moving on to my first name....

I was born in 1979 and my parents decided to name me Evelyn Marie. I always liked my name, but was slightly disturbed when I found out that their inspiration had been the name of a boat that sank off the coast of DOnegal three years earlier, The Evelyn Marie.

A search on the name Evelyn brings up a few things. Wiki will tell you that it is in fact a French name, Aveline, meaning "little bird". Its Germanic origins lie in the name Ava meaning "desired". Other possibilities are from Hebrew meaning "light" and from Celtic meaning "life" or "life-giving". Being a Celt, I suppose the later applies to me.

So, Life-Giving Navigator - could be worse I suppose!

Apparently, there aren't many of us knocking around. The only one I could find was Marilyn Monroe's on-screen double. There's not much info out there on her though.

Anyway, if you've got the time to spare, it's pretty interesting just to do an internet search on your name and what it means. At least next time I'm in a foreign country and someone asks me about it, I can bore the pants off them! :-D

Leaving It To The Imagination

I'm reading a book at the moment called "Dark Star Safari" by my favourite travel writer, Paul Theroux. There are a million quotes one could pull from the book to get you thinking about various aspects of life, but this one really caught my attention. In Khartoum, he takes note of a man and wife walking to church, but the woman really captures his imagination. I just thought I'd share it.

"The woman was very attractive...., tall and black and slender in a gold-coloured gossamer veil whcih she parted with a toss of her head, giving me a glimpse of her face. Her figure was apparent in the sinuous movement of her gown, and she wore black high-heeled shoes. Part of her gown became entangled in one stiletto heel and as she stooped to disengage the wisp of silken cloth from the heel point with a gloved hand, lifting her gown a bit higher, I saw the filigree of dark henna all over her foot and her ankle and reaching up her leg, delicately painted, as though she were wearing the sexiest French tights. In addition to the pretty shoe and the naked foot, the principal fascination of this lovely painted leg was that it belonged to a woman who was veiled. The explicit fethishism of her feet, her only exposed flesh, left her hidden charms to the imagination. Nothing to me was more erotic."

Twists & Turns

I realized with a pang today that, had the rest of my recent travels gone to plan, I would be flying out to Borneo today to climb Mount Kinabalu and kick it with some oranutangs.

Instead, I am looking out at little rivulets of rain chasing each other down the window. Later, I will watch TV with my mother or maybe go completely wild and have a bath! I suppose I could go for a walk in the rain.

No. I know what I'll do. I'll take out my LP to South East Asia and actually do some reading on Sabah to remind me of what I am missing and give me something to look forward to for next year. Some days I still find myself surprised to be home. It happened so suddenly in the end.Well, it's a long story...better saved for another day.

I suppose I should have cancelled my flights. Someone else could have used the seat. But at least, whoever is sitting in the one next to mine will have some elbow room. I take some consolation in knowing this.

Meanwhile, life continues at its steady pace here at home. For all the fact that I go a little crazy sometimes with the monotony of it, in some ways it can provide its own comfort . Occasionally, there is some assuagement to be found in the quotidien. Unfortunately, that feeling never lasts very long, for me anyway. I don't seem to have the ability to sit still.

There are two ways one could feel I suppose: a) continually excited and inspired b) utterly exhausted. I'm glad to say the former is true for me. One thing is for sure, whether it's the solid grind of 9 to 5, or swinging from the vines in an equatorial jungle, life doesn't ever have to be dull. It can be as exciting as you allow it to be.

So, with this in mind, I will look forward to this week that should have been spent in Sabah and await what it might bring........

A Full Heart

Happiness is..

A kiss from a gorgeous guy who might love you if you didnt leave

Crossing the Andes with a lovely old woman

Silently sharing her chocolate mints,

Watching the sun set in a blush of pink

And feeling free.

Song of the Open Road

Song of the Open Road

From this hour I ordain myself

loos´d of limits and imaginary lines,

going where I list, my own master

total and absolute

listening to others,

considering well what they say,

pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,

gently, but with undeniable will

divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.

Walt Whitman

A Cof Reflects on What It Means to Be Free...

12 more weeks of this insufferable grind. 12 more weeks and I am free!

I'm trying to get my head around what that's actually going to feel like. Have I ever really been "free" before? I think not.

In the beginning, there were play-pin boundaries and childlocks. Then came primary school (a welcome relief, its true, but a form of captivity nonetheless). Following this, began 6 long years of concentration camp-like internment, otherwise known as SECONDARY SCHOOL. Many people look back on this period of their young life with a certain degree of rose-tinted fondness. Not me, oh no! I remember....nuns..lots of nuns...and rules. I was told who I could or couldnt associate with, what career path I should choose, how I should look, and how I should speak. I've committed those times to the darkest recesses of my memory, where they remain smouldering, only to be stoked every now and then by a brief encounter with one of the aforementioned tyrants or school bullies.

The start of univeristy life heralded a period of feckless abandon, the illusion of having thrown off the shackles of secondary education, and the beginning of MY life. Ha! What a green little freshman was I! In the short space of a year, not only the bank but also the university owned my ass. Exams, resits, deadlines, account balances, overdrafts, contracts, duels at dawn.....no I was certainly not free, but I did love college.

I emerged from university as a butterfly from a cocoon, shaped, moulded, employable (snort), and up to my neck in DEBT! After a brief and ill-advised spell working in a doctor's surgery (because despite what my college tutor told me, no-one actually really wants an ARTS student. ) I was successful in applying for a position as a Technical Writer. Now I shall certainly experience true freedom, I thought. Where do I sign? Let my star-studded career commence!

Almost a year later, I have become not even an important cog in an important machine. I'm just some crap old cog, buried away in the back of the machine, trundling along, breaking down unnoticed every so often, but yet just necessary enough to have around in case one of the TOP cogs craps out. No, this is freedom neither.

So, what am I do when I am suddenly launched out into the big wide world with little or no deadlines and no one to tell me what to do? Will I be overcome? Will I go nuts altogether? Will I realise I'm just meant to be an old cog after all and turn around and come back? What will be the outcome? What does it feel like to be free?

Recapturing Childhood Excitement

Nervous excitement is all part of the dizzying preparation surrounding a round the world trip. My Dad often says that the best part of a trip is often just before you leave, the planning, the anticipation of what's to come. I hope that's not entirely true , but when I think about it now I understand the difference maybe. Once you are on that plane, you are actually doing it, and nervous anticipation is replaced with a sort of nervous energy. Something akin to a survival instinct kicks in, so that you can concentrate on getting from A to B, picking up those bags, finding your hotel. Once the holiday experience begins, you become involved in the doing and seeing, and have little time for anticipation.

I asked myself today if I really truly knew the meaning of exhiliration.
I don't think adults really experience excitement very often, I think you have to have a child-like heart to really feel it. Adults are too afraid to give into it, to let go and be carried away by it. I tried to think of the last time I really truly experienced nervous butterflies-in-the-tummy excitment. I couldnt, at least not as an adult anyway. The closest I could come was being in bed on Christmas Eve and listening to the grandfather clock in the hall, waiting for Santa, too hyped up to sleep, too nervous not to, willing the morning to come.

The thought of leaving what I know and am used to, to carve out a new path in the world on my own fills me with the twin feelings of dread and possibility. Some days one outweighs the other, on others they exist in equilibrium. As the time draws closer, I expect them to fuse as one intense emotion, so I will never really know if what I am feeling is dread or excitement....a bit like sky-diving, I imagine.

Last night I opened the Rough Guide to South America and began to read. I flicked through the sections until I landed on Peru. I'll be flying into Lima, so it's as good as place as any to begin. The more I read, the more the "What-Ifs" in my head were drowned out. The old adage "Knowledge is Power" sprang to mind, and how true it is. The vague idea of landing in Jorge Chavez airport with my life in 65L on my back and little or no Spanish is some days enough to frighten the daylights out of me. As I read through section after section of the chapter, however, underlining details of bus numbers and street maps, my confidence was re-kindled. And then, the first waves of excitement began to wash over me. The wonderful realization that I will land in Peru with no commitments, no deadlines, enough money to keep me going for quite a while, and the freedom to see and do anything I want, hit home and I couldnt stop smiling. I started to map out a trajectory through the continent.

The Cost of Realising Your Dreams

Sitting at your desk at work dreaming about exploring the world outside your window is one thing. Making it happen is another. Dreams don't require a lot of effort or sacrifice, and everything seems so much more easy and doable in your head.

My enthusiasm surrounding my RTW trip, which was at a high a few weeks ago, has waned considerably following a recent setback. In the past weeks, I have been thinking less and less about it, and now I'm depressed as hell!

So, I've decided to record the intended itinerary on my blog as a constant reminder of what is ahead of me.

I recently decided to abandon the traditional RTW ticket and wing it instead. There are a number of reasons for this. I dont like being restricted (hence the travelling solo ) Having to stick to ticket schedules, etc...is not really how I wanted to do this trip. I'd much rather just move from/stay in a place as I felt like it. Okay, so yeah I'm a little bit worried about the fact that it might cost me a LOT more doing it this way...but I should be okay. Shouldn't I? :D

Getting the money together for all this is the bitch! In the headiness of previous weeks, I went shopping for a few staples

- backpack
- hiking boots
- camera
- travel accessories
- waterproof gear

So, on the upside, any money I do save from now on will be money I'll be leaving with. Although, I still have to pay for travel insurance and the dreaded JABS!!!

On the downside, it's so hard to save, living in Ireland. Grrr...everything is sooo expensive here. I've been staying at home on Saturday nights as much as possible to try and save the pennies but it is hard. Plus, the Summer is here now and that makes it even more difficult!! My friends and workmates think there'e something up because I keep making excuses for not going out. I can't tell anyone about this trip yet because I cant blow my cover too early at work....they wouldn't be too happy if they thought I was planning to leave..so I have to keep schtum for a while yet. So, Ive been telling them all that I'm thinking of getting a new car and I'm saving for that.....tee heee...

When I said, I was planning a round the world trip, I wasnt joking. The list of countries is ambitious...maybe too ambitious, I dont know. I could be back in Ireland after a few months...but if not, this is the plan:

India 1 month approx
Nepal/Tibet 2wks/2wks
China 1-3 months (possibly to work)
Myanmar 2-3wks
Laos 2-3 wks
Vietnam 2-3wks
Cambodia 2 wks
Thailand2 wks
Malaysia 2-3 wks
Borneo 1wk
Singapore2-3 days

After this, it's difficult to plan anything remotely concrete

Australia 3-6 months (not sure whether to work here......)
New Zealand 6mnths - 1 yr (Working VISA)
One of the Cook Islands or Fiji - 1/2 wks

Easter Island 1-2 days
Chile 3wks-1 month (depending on whether I decide to see Patagonia
Peru 2 wks
Bolivia 1 wk

I said it was ambitious! Lol! If I get this far, I will be doing great! If I still have money and time and energy, I will add some more South or Central American countries on, and possibly Canada.....

At this point in my life, all I can think about is getting away from everything I know at home. I definitely have the will to embark on this adventure, but I wonder how long I can last....really. Looking at my intinerary, I just want to keep lengthening the list, but 1-2 yrs of roughing it is not easy on anyone...and I may find that I dont manage to see half of that list.

I don't imagine that I will get terribly homesick at first, but a trip of this magnitude means leaving your family for a long time. And then, there's your family. Is it selfish to leave them for such a prolonged absence?
I am lucky that I have parents who have never stood in my way and who encourage me in all my dreams and goals, even if they sometimes dont agree.
Is their a cost for them in me trying to realise these dreams?

Doing this trip boils down to one thing for me. I want to have an adventure. I want to be able to eventually buy my house/apartment and settle into my chosen career, have a family..etc...and be perfectly content to do that because I have made the most of my young life. I will have embraced the restlessness of youth and looked my fears and dreams right in the eye. Having done that, I think that middle age and beyond may be a happier and more content prospect.