THE CASE OF THE SMOKING GRILL

You join us at the height of Autumn – as the days draw in, the nights grow cooler, and the morning’s crisp touch hitherto comes without the stinging, clawing, the burning of the frost. Summer has once again flown past us as if we were standing still – forgetting time as we moved between the beach and the sea and the hills – truly at the helm of life and yet seemingly not experiencing enough of it. Time to slow down.

This month – oh, what a month! – saw us sharing live music with pals, open mic nights with strangers, the merging of clans and travelling to meet more. But – and perhaps most importantly – it saw the sapling of this newsletter find soil, water, and warmth.

The panther cap and the fly agaric are in full fruit, and greet us with invitations into the fáinne sióg. Friend, you can almost hear the singing of the faeries, if you listen very closely! Although perhaps it’s just the rumblings before the 10th pub roast of the week. Maybe it’s time for a break. We’ve important work to do on the continent.

You join us at the height of Autumn – as the days draw in, the nights grow cooler, and the morning’s crisp touch hitherto comes without the stinging, clawing, the burning of the frost. Summer has once again flown past us as if we were standing still – forgetting time as we moved between the beach and the sea and the hills – truly at the helm of life and yet seemingly not experiencing enough of it. Time to slow down.

This month – oh, what a month! – saw us sharing live music with pals, open mic nights with strangers, the merging of clans and travelling to meet more. But – and perhaps most importantly – it saw the sapling of this newsletter find soil, water, and warmth.

The panther cap and the fly agaric are in full fruit, and greet us with invitations into the fáinne sióg. Friend, you can almost hear the singing of the faeries, if you listen very closely! Although perhaps it’s just the rumblings before the 10th pub roast of the week. Maybe it’s time for a break. We’ve important work to do on the continent.

Arriving in our own little sanctuary ten minutes from the city centre, ten minutes from the coast, ten minutes from the ground. The first time we’ve not stayed with the Coutos; a reflection of their beautiful, growing family. Their hospitality over breakfast and around their coast is more than enough.

We feast on the finest meats and cheapest beer. We trudge to the British quarters, perhaps by accident, but we stay. Perhaps we all do this ironically until we develop a taste for it. Until we feel no need to excuse it. Perhaps it’s not a bad life. But not for this trip – no – this trip is for Sam and Marisa to show us their favourites and to break local bread with the true locals. For time to explore and time to get to know darlings Ceci and Xavi, communicating only through sheer cheekiness. 

~ K

Arriving in our own little sanctuary ten minutes from the city centre, ten minutes from the coast, ten minutes from the ground. The first time we’ve not stayed with the Coutos; a reflection of their beautiful, growing family. Their hospitality over breakfast and around their coast is more than enough.

We feast on the finest meats and cheapest beer. We trudge to the British quarters, perhaps by accident, but we stay. Perhaps we all do this ironically until we develop a taste for it. Until we feel no need to excuse it. Perhaps it’s not a bad life. But not for this trip – no – this trip is for Sam and Marisa to show us their favourites and to break local bread with the true locals. For time to explore and time to get to know darlings Ceci and Xavi, communicating only through sheer cheekiness.

~ K 

There is no doubt that this month’s meal to remember was enjoyed in a bustling, busy, and very blue seafood restaurant. An opportunity for us both to partake in some fabulous fresh and local cuisine, but also a chance to  receive a smothering of spacemen stickers. The provision of such excellent distraction for our youngest dinner guests allowed me to get really stuck into the new joy of relinquishing crusty crabs of their meat. A task I enjoyed thoroughly despite its rather meagre yields. 

An evening that felt like the embodiment of a true meal time; friends, family, fun, and nourishment in all it’s forms. 

~ E

There is no doubt that this month’s meal to remember was enjoyed in a bustling, busy, and very blue seafood restaurant. An opportunity for us both to partake in some fabulous fresh and local cuisine, but also a chance to  receive a smothering of spacemen stickers. The provision of such excellent distraction for our youngest dinner guests allowed me to get really stuck into the new joy of relinquishing crusty crabs of their meat. A task I enjoyed thoroughly despite its rather meagre yields. 

An evening that felt like the embodiment of a true meal time; friends, family, fun, and nourishment in all it’s forms. 

~ E

This edition’s takeover is from Flora, 27, of County Cork.

I’m Flora, and apparently I’ve been invited to take over this corner of the newsletter. Thoughtful travel has always been important to me. I tend to travel the same way I live: with simple comforts and an eye for the details others rush past. I like places that reward patience: campsites that take time to warm up in the morning, villages where the best conversations happen after the second cup of tea. The comfort of routines even when the scenery changes.

As for writing this, a ‘takeover’ is a generous way of putting it. The voice may wander, but the structure remains reassuringly familiar, and the edges neatly trimmed. There’s comfort in that, too. After all, even the most independent journeys rely on a steady guide; one who knows when to let the traveller speak, and when to quietly make sure the story sounds exactly as it should.

Next month could be you! Submit by email to desk@vonkirschnell.haus

This edition’s takeover is from Flora, 27, of County Cork.

I’m Flora, and apparently I’ve been invited to take over this corner of the newsletter. Thoughtful travel has always been important to me. I tend to travel the same way I live: with simple comforts and an eye for the details others rush past. I like places that reward patience: campsites that take time to warm up in the morning, villages where the best conversations happen after the second cup of tea. The comfort of routines even when the scenery changes.

As for writing this, a ‘takeover’ is a generous way of putting it. The voice may wander, but the structure remains reassuringly familiar, and the edges neatly trimmed. There’s comfort in that, too. After all, even the most independent journeys rely on a steady guide; one who knows when to let the traveller speak, and when to quietly make sure the story sounds exactly as it should.

Next month could be you! Submit by email to desk@vonkirschnell.haus

I awoke at an ungodly hour this Friday morning to the sound of the door closing and a car pulling away, a list of instructions slipped under my door – as if living in the serengeti for 3 years wasn’t qualification enough to look after a house by the sea for a weekend. Yes, it seems “mum and dad” have given me reign of the homestead for some time. Marvellous. At least I’ll get to pick what’s on TV, maybe even get to use some of the hot water for a change. 

I see their poor planning has once again left me with a collection of fruit and nuts, but nothing of any substance. I was personally invited alongside old Freddy Jackson to an Animals In War exhibition at the Imperial this weekend. I suppose I’ll have to stay in and cook now.

God these people are idiots.

I awoke at an ungodly hour this Friday morning to the sound of the door closing and a car pulling away, a list of instructions slipped under my door – as if living in the serengeti for 3 years wasn’t qualification enough to look after a house by the sea for a weekend. Yes, it seems “mum and dad” have given me reign of the homestead for some time. Marvellous. At least I’ll get to pick what’s on TV, maybe even get to use some of the hot water for a change. 

I see their poor planning has once again left me with a collection of fruit and nuts, but nothing of any substance. I was personally invited alongside old Freddy Jackson to an Animals In War exhibition at the Imperial this weekend. I suppose I’ll have to stay in and cook now.

God these people are idiots.