Now, before we go any further, let me be clear: in this post, I’m talking about a physical journey, not one of my usual mind-journeys (those can travel far further without ever leaving the armchair!).
I’ve done my fair share of traveling over the years. I even lived for many years in the Pacific Northwest and Alaska, wild, rugged places that stay with you long after you leave. It was during my time in the States that I first visited Mexico. Cabo San Lucas, to be exact. That trip was my very first taste of Mexico, and I was smitten right away. The sun, culture, the food, and the rhythm of the place, everything felt so alive.
But the longest journey I ever made to Cabo was years later, flying straight from Dublin. Nearly 9,000 km, halfway across the globe. By the time I got there, I felt as though I’d circled the whole planet, yet somehow landed exactly where I was meant to be.
My friend Kritter had a house in the Pedregal, tucked into the hillside overlooking the harbor. From her terrace, the view was like something you’d never quite believe until you saw it with your own eyes. At dawn, the fishing boats slid out to sea, the water lit gold by the rising sun. By night, the lights of the town shimmered below, a glittering necklace against the dark.
Those days in Cabo felt otherworldly. We laughed, we lingered over food bursting with flavor, and we let the warm wind wrap itself around us like an old friend. And me, an Irish lass, sat there, glass in hand, thinking how strange and beautiful it was to be so far from home, yet at home all the same.
That’s the real gift of travel, isn’t it? It shows us that the world is vast, but our hearts can find belonging in the unlikeliest of places.
And yet… no matter how far I go, there’s always a part of me that stays stubbornly Irish. Case in point: on my first morning in Cabo, surrounded by palm trees and pelicans, what was the first thought in my head? “Wouldn’t kill them to put the kettle on, would it?”
Because here’s the thing, you can have sunsets dripping in gold, tacos that taste like heaven, and margaritas that could knock you sideways… but if you hand an Irishwoman a cup of lukewarm “tea” in a paper cup, she’ll start plotting the next Aer Lingus flight home.
Travel teaches you plenty about the world, but it also teaches you plenty about yourself. And what I learned in Cabo is this: I can soak in all the beauty and flavor of a place thousands of miles away, but I’ll always carry the voice of home with me. The one that whispers, “Lovely view, Mae. Now where’s me proper brew?”
Mae 🧡
UNDER THE WILL... OVER THE DRAMA... 
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