"Víðsýni" means a panoramic view or open-mindedness in Icelandic.
This adjective best describes my time in Iceland, a true land of ice and fire. The entire landscape can change in a span of minutes or miles - one minute you're driving through a moss-covered lunar landscape of old lava flows near Skaftafell National Park and the next you are watching bright blue icebergs float in the glacial lagoon at Jökulsárlón or calve off of Breiðamerkurjökull glacier. I saw waterfall after waterfall (even one you can walk behind, Seljalandsfoss), herds of reindeer in Hallormsstaður National Forest, wandering Icelandic ponies outside of Husavik, and tectonic plates breaking apart in Þingvellir. The landscape is wild, open, and inspires wonder at every turn.
"Croí" in Irish Gaelic means "heart."
Whether it is because my family hails from Oughterard, a small town close to the western shore of Lough Corrib in County Galway, or because the island itself is pure magic, I left my heart in Éire.
I began in Dublin and went south to Thomstown in County Kilkenny, south and west to Kinsale in County Kerry, west again to Mizen Head at the tip of the Kilmore Peninsula, north to Kenmare in County Kerry, north and west to the Cliffs of Moher and Doolin in County Clare, north again through The Burren to Ballyvaughan and on to Galway, and finally east again to Dublin.
Pro tip: the Guinness does, in fact, taste otherworldy when in a proper pint at a proper pub.
"Sonder" means "the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own."
I travelled to England for a wedding and fell in love with the bustle of London, the melange of history and modernity in Oxford, and quiet coffees in the sleepy countryside of West Sussex.
"Turadh" means "a break in the clouds between showers."
I went over the sea to Skye and left a piece of my soul in the Faerie Glen. I used Plockton as a base of exploration for Skye and managed to wander much of the island over four days: Glenelg (an unforgettable ride on the oldest running manual turntable ferry in the world); Portree (bright shops and friendly folks); Carbost (the Talisker Distillery is a must-see, as is The Oyster Shed!); Elgol (and maybe a ferry ride to Loch Coruisk); the Old Man of Storr (amazing when you get a little of that turadh); Sligachan (where you wash your face in the river to stay young forever); the Faerie Glen and the Quiraing near Uig (breathtakingly beautiful spots for hikes); Kilt Rock on the Trotternish Peninsula (perfect spot for hilarious but inappropriate selfies with Mealt Falls); Staffin Beach (of Dinosaur footprint fame); and Dunvegan Castle (seat of Clan Macleod).
"Faileas" means "reflection" in Scots Gaelic, which is really apropos in the Land of the Lochs. Whether it's a dappled sky reflected on the surface of Loch Lomond, purple heather winking back at you from puddled water after the rain, or musings about the toughness it must take for a Rowan to grow out of a rock on Rannoch Moor, I spent a good week wandering the Scottish Highlands and the streets of Edinburgh, looking for a place to store a bit of my heart until my next return.
I can't say it better than Dougie Maclean in his version of Caledonia:
"Oh and Let me tell you that I love you / and I think about you all the time / Caledonia you're calling me / and now I'm going home / But if I should become a stranger / you know that it would make me more than sad / Caledonia's been everything I've ever had."
"Mozzafiato" means "breathtaking" in Italian. The literal word comes from mozzare, meaning to cut or chop off, and fiato, meaning breath.
I spent two weeks in Italy, and each day brought moments and memories that left me speechless. I travelled from Rome, to Pompeii, to Positano, to Florence, to San Gimignano, to Montalcino, and on to Venice. And more places in between.
I realized in Rome that I had never had real tomatoes or burrata. Or that, in Tuscany, I never had olive oil. Or tiramisu in Venice. Or gnocchi in Florence. Basically, any Italian food or wine in the U.S. is ruined for me.