Portsmouth

Portsmouth, New Hampshire is a quaint, historic old New England seaport sitting by the Piscataqua River across from Kittery, Maine. I came to love Portsmouth so much that I stayed there for a year and a half. I was so happy in that world that I had begun to think seriously of scrapping the whole travel bit and putting down roots in beautiful New England.

Snowfall on Congress Street
Portsmouth, NH

As the spring of 1987 began to spread across New England in the yearly thawing of body, heart and soul, I found myself feeling uneasy for no apparent reason. I took a walk in the late afternoon down to Market Square, bought coffee and sat out in the early spring evening trying to figure out why I wasn't feeling right about life.

Market Square in Springtime
Portsmouth, NH

I had all but left travel dreams behind me in the past year. I would talk to people about my dreams of travel in the past tense, because I just didn't feel the urge like I used to. I'd finally found a place that I felt really at home — why should I be in a rush to leave it? Over the course of the evening it dawned on me that this restful time in Portsmouth was not the end of the journey, but only a place to rest before the next phase. I knew that all the assumptions and expectations that had kept me from continuing on when I was in Ireland were now gone, and the time to do what I had dreamed of for years had finally come.