It's only two weeks now until I start pedalling away from Dublin so it seemed like a good idea to do a touch of cyclocamping practice this weekend. In true Indiana Fashion, I googled 'camping grounds out of Dublin' at 5pm Friday evening and by 9pm I had tent erected and chicken soup in tum at North Beach Caravan Park in Rush, about 30km north of Dublin.

I took the shortest (and ugliest) route out of Dubs and came to the realisation that the roads that feed a city's airport are kind of like the hallways in a house. No one really puts any care into them, they're thoroughfares, nothing exciting happens there, they're unremarkable portals to the living room, the kitchen or in this case a town called Rush.

Funnily enough as soon as I turned off the dirty thoroughfare, my pace changed to one at odds with the town I was about to enter. Almost on cue the sun shone, people sold beetroot in boxes out front of their perfectly manicured lawns, while delicate porcelain squirrels watched over proceedings.

My mind was wandering and wondering when out of nowhere I had a thought. What if this journey I'm about to begin is 2011's version of Sex in the City? Carrie Bradshaw and her pals made being 30 and single... fabulous. But that was then. What does the 30ish year old want now? What if I could help people stuck in self imposed ruts realise there's life beyond schedules, diaries, lists and itinerarys. Maybe it's not necessary to plan out every detail of your beige life, right down to the last martini olive. I may not have Carrie's dress sense, but I can claim a distinctive nose and a curiosity about the world around me, taking the time to be present in this moment, in this town. 

Hold your horses Indiana, there's no need to get all deep and meaningful in blog one and if I've learnt anything so far, it's that there's no need to hurry - especially in a town called Rush.