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DUBLIN, IRELAND

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June 2017 THE wanderer spent her first weekend in Ireland in its capital city, Dublin. That weekend a Pride celebration just so happened to be taking place, and so the city was decked in rainbows. After a brief tour of some of the city, the wanderer found herself in the Leprechaun Museum. Going through doors and tunnels that felt like they belonged in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, the wanderer made her way through a variety of interesting rooms, including a giant's room (where all of the furniture was huge and you could climb up onto the giant chairs), a room with a cool digital map of Ireland, a model of the inside of an old Irish cottage, a fake wood with a well standing in the middle of it, and so on. The guide---or storyteller, as he dubbed himself---meantime informed everyone about Irish fairy tales and legends, referring to much the wanderer herself had grown familiar with in her weeks before coming to Ireland (mostly courtesy of W. B. Yeats's  Fairy and Folk Ta...
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LONDON: Act III

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March 6, 2017 TODAY, THE WANDERER was going to Kensington Gardens. She could hardly believe that, less than a year since she had first read J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens , she was going to the place where, in the world of fiction, a baby Peter Pan was raised by birds and experienced his first adventures; the place where J.M. Barrie himself had wandered through; the very place that his brilliant mind had transformed into a magical world filled with fairies and talking birds and joyful children, a little Neverland in the middle of the sprawling city of London. For her, it was nothing short of a dream come true. The weather was gorgeous: no heavy coat necessary. Clouds rolled through the blue sky without threatening a drop of rain. The flowers were already in bloom, and even though it was only the first week of March, spring was in the air. "The Serpentine begins near here. It is a lovely lake, and there is a drowned forest ...
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LONDON: Act IV

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March 7-9, 2017 IT WAS TIME to go to work. The wanderer returned to the King's College, which was situated near the bank of the Thames. The wanderer had gone to the college the previous evening for her professor's guest lecture event and her companion's accompanying performance, which the wanderer had been helping her practice for the past few months. Afterwards, they all had had a dinner of overpriced pizza with a few of the professors at the college. She and her companion had been the only ones at the table not wearing glasses. The wanderer had felt rather like a child invited to eat at the grown-up table, but she nevertheless had enjoyed listening in on the scholarly, spectacled conversation. For the next few days, it was the wanderer's turn to be scholarly (though still not spectacled). She and her companion were researching a British historian/writer/politician/military officer—quite a busy bee—named C.M. Woodhouse. The wanderer and her companion spent hours an...
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