It's coming up so fast, too fast I fear. March 18th Ashlee and I board our flight and arrive on the morning of the 19th to Dublin, Ireland. We stay there until the afternoon of the 25th then fly to London to stay in Kensington until the 28th when we hop aboard the Eurostar and head off to Belgium for a week. I tend to get so wrapped up in planning the adventure that it isn't until just before departure that it all begins to set in. Three countries in 17 days with my twenty year old niece. Have I lost my mind? What was I thinking?? I'm terrified of talking to people and Ashlee is even worse. At least in Italy with Nicole I could easily convince her to ask store clerks questions, but Ashlee? Not a chance. I'm not as concerned with visiting Ireland, since let's face it, the Irish are the salt of the earth and just wonderful people, but in London? Our accents will be a dead giveaway and we will be instantly despised. I asked my British gal pal if the English really do hate Americans and she assured me, "Yes, but we are far too polite to let on." Terrific. Maybe I can lie and say we're Canadians...What ever possessed me to think that all this was a good idea?
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