Going home and knowing that I will likely be staying in one place for a long time is a sobering thought now. Don't get me wrong, I love Colorado, but I will be looking for new towns and places to explore around home when I get back. Cowtown is just not big enough to continuously hold my attention. I've travelled within the States by subway, car, and (most recently) a mini-van, but this semester traveling means going somewhere that I have never been before to see things that are usually unlike anything I've ever seen. I love being able to leave the dorm, jump on a train, bus or a plane and find whole new places. Case in point, the first weekend of November was spent in Yorkshire, England. Thursday night, once my school week officially ended, Alanna and I headed to the Dublin airport yet again. After enduring a short jaunt on another wonderful Ryanair flight full of turbulence and stewardesses trying to sell you everything under the sun, we made it to Leeds. We had a "picnic" of pork pies, Botham's cakes, and other extremely English goodies courtesy of Alanna's grandma in a hotel parking lot by the airport before trekking back to Whitby for a 2am arrival.
Random timing that it was, we ended up being in England for Bonfire weekend and Guy Fawkes day, which is celebrated by building massive bonfires and shooting off fireworks. Alanna's accommodating grandparents drove us around Scarborough and through the English moors. Dinner was an English carvery, complete with Yorkshire puddings, spuds, and big slices of roast meat...even thinking about it is making me hungry again. The bonfire in Scarborough that night was enormous! It was still burning strong after an hour and a half! The fireworks lit up the sky and hundreds of people piled onto the lawn by the beach for the show. Saturday, we went wandering in Robin Hood's Bay, a beautiful sea town on the English coast. The houses are all built on top of one another at the edge of the sea, with little alleyways winding through gardens and along entranceways. I don't think I saw a strictly rectangular building in among all of the houses. Geraniums and other flowers made big splashes of color amidst the "higgledy-piggledy" houses. Terra-cotta tiles capped most of the buildings and big electrical poles sprouted wires in every direction, burrowing straight into the walls of some of the houses. Guess they figured that if the picturesque town of "unusually" constructed houses could survive the tests of time, why not add some unique electrical engineering to the mix?
Full of tea and flapjacks (not pancakes, but chocolate and caramel covered shortbread squares), we meandered back to Whitby Abbey, an old abbey perched overlooking the town of Whitby. Bram Stoker was inspired by Whitby and its' foreboding abbey while he was writing Dracula, so on Halloween weekend the town is flooded with Victorian-style goths. The most gothic people I saw in Whitby besides the pictures in the paper were pale tourists, but the crumbling walls and the graveyard overlooking the sea were more than interesting enough. A walk along the pier and a lunch of fresh fish and chips was a perfect way to end the afternoon in town before going to watch my first ever rugby game (not live, but still...).
Sunday, after meeting and lunch in an old, converted barn loft, Alanna and I walked the streets of York. Clifford's Tower rose up on a mound of ground across the street from the Hilton and a huge outdoor market popped up along the streets near the city's center. A green-haired musician jammed with his equally unusual, but very talented, band. Vendors were shouting for attention, and the one with the most sugar snagged our attention with his colorful fudge. York Minster towered nearby and after a few confused detours, we made it to the giant church and surrounding gardens. A talented pianist in fingerless gloves and striped clown pants played a red piano on the square nearby, providing a convenient soundtrack for the scenery. After making our way through the gardens behind the church, we found the museum gardens! The cold was starting to seep into our bones by now so after playing around in some leaves and filling up another memory card, it was way past time for a Costa break. We called the city-crawling quits after strolling around on some of the giant stone walls built by the founders of York all around the city. The sporadic lack of railings to keep a person from falling off the back side of the wall deterred our curiosity fairly quickly. More of Alanna's relatives took us in for the night, and her uncle was even kind enough to wake up at 3:40 to take us to the airport the next morning.
Weekends with nothing to do are few and far between since August and I absolutely love it. I spend most of the three days a week that I have class planning where I'm going to go next...and have successfully filled every weekend from now until I fly home. With the clock's minutes spinning away and rain lashing against my bedroom window, I'm calling it a night, but I'll still be dreaming about European adventures and grand trips to who knows where.
Irish-isms:
boot - trunk of a car
savage/deadly - cool
Thanks a mil! - Thanks a million! (even if it's something as simple as grabbing a Kleenex).
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
[Insert witty saying of choice]
I have resigned myself to the fact that catching up on a day-to-day blog at this point is an exercise in futility. I have notes of everything, so some day (or week) that I'm procrastinating once my life is back to normal in the spring, you might see some random posts about days spent by the Irish Sea and adventures around Ireland. Looking back over older posts, I've realized that this blog is not so much a blog as a long diary entry journaling all of the steps I have taken...which, let's face it, is more to jog my memory than to entertain the few people who stumble upon the page. So, this is now day one of productivity since coming over the Atlantic. With exercise beyond running in random patterns during P.E. and some actual homework done (for the first time since August) this morning, this seems like the perfect time to start fresh.
This past weekend was spent exploring a bit around Belfast. Halloween in Dublin promised to be crazy, so I figured it was a good time avoid a weekend of drunk people in costumes & go on a mini-road trip with a few of the members of my Irish family. (Like it or not, the family that has taken me in for so many weekends is now, quite possibly, stuck with me. (: & once you've sung ABBA & the Eagles while doing the dishes, you are officially too much like my biological family to not be adopted!) So my three Irish sisters and I piled into the little Peugeot in rainy Blackrock and headed north. I was overly prepared for the border crossing into Northern Ireland with my passport & Garda cards safely tucked into my bags...border patrol between the two parts of Ireland was a text message from O2 telling us that it was now twice as expensive to use our phones. We arrived at the get-together fashionably late, but it ended up balancing out since we were up talking until 4 a.m. I love the Northern Irish accent! It's almost lyrical sounding. The next day was rainy and gray...perfect for sleeping in and spending the rest of the day at W5. W5 is an awesome science museum in Belfast. The average age of our group was about ten years older than every other child-less guest in the museum, but I think we had at least as much fun. The musical stairs chimed as you climbed them and there was 3-D connect four! How could you not be excited?
Saturday we went out for breakfast at a Portuguese restaurant before going into Belfast's city center area for the rest of the day. St. George's Market was the first stop. People peddling everything from bonsai trees to knit hats to curries filled a massive warehouse-style building. The place was buzzing with everybody chattering at each other. Some of the more interesting sights: a dead fish wearing glasses, a roast pig on a spit, a lady with some kind of plant sticking out of her backpack, violet cupcakes, baby hats, muddy carrots freshly pulled, and wacky wool and button pins. A band played music on a makeshift stage in the center of the milling crowds. We taste-tested about everything, following anything iffy with a taster from one of pastry booths. A need for fresh air kicked in and we wandered out around the city towards Victoria's Square. Belfast's City Hall popped up in among the buildings, with great pillars and a meticulously kept lawn. Northern Ireland's pink double decker buses zigged and zagged among the pedestrians. We got to Victoria's Square, crowned by the dome of clear glass on top of it and festively adorned with a white balloon ghost floating around the second floor. After window shopping and looking out over Belfast from the observation platform at the top of the dome, it was time for a Starbucks break and people watching. Club employees passing out flyers in full Halloween costumes, "healers" laying hands on anybody willing to pay them, and making up backstories for random strangers kept us entertained for hours. When we went down to leave, Lady Gaga wandered by in a huge white wig surrounded by security and a stream of random fans. On that bizarre note, we left the north for Irish countryside once again.
Sunday after the morning meeting, we headed back to Dublin, spotting trick-or-treaters, Halloween lanterns, and fireworks on the way to gospel meeting. A few confused individuals are still setting off fireworks tonight...apparently Halloween is a 3-day event for some people in Ireland.
(Northern) Irish-isms:
weeins - "wee ones," little kids
slag - make fun of, tease (okay, that's all of Ireland, but northerners say it too)
This past weekend was spent exploring a bit around Belfast. Halloween in Dublin promised to be crazy, so I figured it was a good time avoid a weekend of drunk people in costumes & go on a mini-road trip with a few of the members of my Irish family. (Like it or not, the family that has taken me in for so many weekends is now, quite possibly, stuck with me. (: & once you've sung ABBA & the Eagles while doing the dishes, you are officially too much like my biological family to not be adopted!) So my three Irish sisters and I piled into the little Peugeot in rainy Blackrock and headed north. I was overly prepared for the border crossing into Northern Ireland with my passport & Garda cards safely tucked into my bags...border patrol between the two parts of Ireland was a text message from O2 telling us that it was now twice as expensive to use our phones. We arrived at the get-together fashionably late, but it ended up balancing out since we were up talking until 4 a.m. I love the Northern Irish accent! It's almost lyrical sounding. The next day was rainy and gray...perfect for sleeping in and spending the rest of the day at W5. W5 is an awesome science museum in Belfast. The average age of our group was about ten years older than every other child-less guest in the museum, but I think we had at least as much fun. The musical stairs chimed as you climbed them and there was 3-D connect four! How could you not be excited?
Saturday we went out for breakfast at a Portuguese restaurant before going into Belfast's city center area for the rest of the day. St. George's Market was the first stop. People peddling everything from bonsai trees to knit hats to curries filled a massive warehouse-style building. The place was buzzing with everybody chattering at each other. Some of the more interesting sights: a dead fish wearing glasses, a roast pig on a spit, a lady with some kind of plant sticking out of her backpack, violet cupcakes, baby hats, muddy carrots freshly pulled, and wacky wool and button pins. A band played music on a makeshift stage in the center of the milling crowds. We taste-tested about everything, following anything iffy with a taster from one of pastry booths. A need for fresh air kicked in and we wandered out around the city towards Victoria's Square. Belfast's City Hall popped up in among the buildings, with great pillars and a meticulously kept lawn. Northern Ireland's pink double decker buses zigged and zagged among the pedestrians. We got to Victoria's Square, crowned by the dome of clear glass on top of it and festively adorned with a white balloon ghost floating around the second floor. After window shopping and looking out over Belfast from the observation platform at the top of the dome, it was time for a Starbucks break and people watching. Club employees passing out flyers in full Halloween costumes, "healers" laying hands on anybody willing to pay them, and making up backstories for random strangers kept us entertained for hours. When we went down to leave, Lady Gaga wandered by in a huge white wig surrounded by security and a stream of random fans. On that bizarre note, we left the north for Irish countryside once again.
Sunday after the morning meeting, we headed back to Dublin, spotting trick-or-treaters, Halloween lanterns, and fireworks on the way to gospel meeting. A few confused individuals are still setting off fireworks tonight...apparently Halloween is a 3-day event for some people in Ireland.
(Northern) Irish-isms:
weeins - "wee ones," little kids
slag - make fun of, tease (okay, that's all of Ireland, but northerners say it too)
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Oops...
· In my attempt to catch up on the blog, I skipped Saturday in Paris and jumped straight to Sunday. So, now I'll backtrack a bit...On Saturday morning, Ashley and I jumped on the Metro to Invalides, which is near where Napoleon is buried. We walked down the streets of Paris towards the Musée d'Orsay before lunch. I had to see at least one art museum in France, right? Rain began to sprinkle down as we walked toward the museum along the Seine. The sun was still out bright and lit up the freshly-watered streets. We wandered past the French National Assembly.
The Musée d'Orsay is a converted rail station filled to overflowing with great works of art. After getting past the ticket part of the museum, the ceilings arch way up, with sunlight streaming in through the big skylights in the ceiling. Massive sculptures line the main hallway and floor upon floor of paintings and sculptures and models line the halls alongside the main hall. In a room tucked in behind the wall at the end of a main hall, there's a big square glass floor with the model of an entire city underfoot. Some of the paintings in the side rooms were so large that they covered entire walls of the museum. Unfortunately, 50 or more of the great Impressionistic paintings by Monet and Renior were in a special exhibit at the French Palace, so I did not get to see them. The beautiful swirls of rich paint on one of Van Gogh's self-portraits, the Rodin sculptures, and the rooms full of Degas paintings definitely made the trip worth it though.
With our one and only destination for the day accomplished, Ashley and I continued meandering around the Parisian streets across the Seine to the base of the Champs d'Elysees, at Place de la Concorde. The crazy intersection bustled with pedestrians, cyclists, taxis, cars and buses flowing in from every direction. Enormous fountains perched in the middle of the roundabout(s), with a gold-capped obelisk rising up nearby. Great stone and golden sculptures perched on bases, welcoming the crowds to join the madness. You could see down the tree-lined Champs d'Elysees to the left and the Jardin de Tuileries to the right. Metro signs arched over the steps to the station below. Seeking to escape the insane amount of traffic, Ashley and I hiked up some steps into the Jardin de Tuileries. The parks in Paris aren't covered in grass, but in sandy dirt. Meticulously planted lines of trees lined the park, providing a barrier between the park and the streets brimming with traffic just outside. A group of little boys were kicking up dirt as they played soccer just inside the fences. We walked further into the park, where we found a great open space with a giant pond and a fountain in the center. Green metal chairs filled with French people enjoying the now-sunny day ringed the pond. We sat and people watched for a while, marveling again at the fact that we were in Paris. Gelato at the edge of the pond capped the moment and we trekked further into the trees again. Filled baguettes eaten with a view of the Louvre and flowering gardens made for a perfect lunch. The rain started to set in soon after we walked to see the Louvre, so we booked it back to the apartment to wait out the weather.
After night fell, we left the flat again to explore more of Paris. We got freshly made crepes from a vendor (hot banana & nutelle...yum!). We located a Pizza Hut for reference for Jillian's future American food cravings and snagged some fresh fries (sorry...chips) from Mickey D's after the sugar overload of the crepes. The bizarrely crafted Centre Pompidou nearby was all lit up nearby. A short walk back to the apartment and a round of cardio to pump up the air mattress ended day 2 of the Paris experience.
J
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday in Paris
On Sunday, we took the Metro to the end of the line to the morning meeting in a suburb outside of Paris, with a pitstop at a boulangerie for fresh pastries for breakfast. I'm pretty sure that NOT eating pastries whenever possible in Paris is a crime...
· Obviously the meeting was in French, which Ashley & I most definitely do not speak. The wife of the elder is Canadian and used whisper mics to translate half of the testimonies to us and our testimonies to the rest of the meeting. Another man in the meeting translated the second half of the testimonies for us. It was a unique experience that was really a privilege to experience. They lent us hymn books for the meeting too. We had a French hymn book and another companion book, which translated the French hymns into English, so that we could grasp what we were singing. Ashley and I attempted to sing along during the hymns by just following the pronunciation of the people around us...it's a good thing that it really is the thought that counts! The meeting was fairly used to visitors and were very friendly. The elder is Slovokian, but speaks French and English as well. There was a girl from Californian that is living in Paris to learn French, a boy from French Guiana, who moved to Paris to study for the semester, a few older French people, the elders, and a younger couple with a little girl. The little girl in the meeting immeadiately warmed up to us and held our hands while we were greeting others. An older lady kissed our cheeks in greeting and exuberantly said, “Rouge! Rouge! Rouge!” to Jillian and I, since all 3 of us where wearing red sweaters that day. There were 2 older single ladies and 1 older single man that only spoke French, so we smiled and said, "Bonjour," thus exhausting my French vocabulary.
· On the way home from meeting, we stopped for lunch at a café in the city. We had curried ham with spaghetti while we planned out the rest of our day and chatted. Right down the street from the café was a street market with fresh flowers, raw cuts of meat & seafood, fake Pashmina scarves everywhere (of which I now own 2), shoes & everything else under the sun. People were teeming everywhere and salespeople were heckling one another and shouting to try to attract the attention of shoppers. One of the booths got mad at Ashley for taking pictures of their cheese, giving away the fact that they were obviously not licensed to be selling their goods.
· The rest of the day started to get rainy so we picked up a massive baguette and more pastries for the afternoon. My pastry of choice was a stack of 2 chocolate covered cream puffs that is supposed to represent a fat nun...French humor goes a bit over my head sometimes, but it tasted delicious! The clouds rolled in and started covering the city in rain, but we were determined to see the Eiffel Tower all "sparkly." We headed out to the Metro after dark and saw the Eiffel Tower twinkle in all of it's glory at night at 9. According to our hostess, the Tower twinkles for 15 minutes on the hour every hour. We enjoyed another round of savoury crepes at another street vendor before heading back to Jillian’s apartment to thaw out & dry out for the night.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Catching up, part deux.
Bonjour, Paris!
After Dad left for the day, Ashley and I got packed for the flight to Paris that night. That was about the longest day of public transportation I've had yet...car, bus, plane, train, and Metro all in about 8 hours. The whole fact that I can't speak French added a bit to the adventure. I spaced the time change between France and Ireland, and we ended up getting to France more than a little bit after dark. Poor Jillian had to wait in Gare du Nord trying to fend off skeevy, forward French men to pick us up and lead us back to her apartment for the night. We also learned that my phone is stuck up when it comes to foreigners. It is near impossible to call my mobile if your phone is not Irish, but I can call international numbers with no problem whatsoever. We were beat by the time we straggled back down the dark road to Jillian's. Ashley & I piled into the smallest elevator ever (max capacity 3 people...erm, yeah, if you all suck in and think thin on the way in) to avoid the first 5 flights of stairs up to the apartment. We squeezed out of the elevator, up another flight of stairs, and went to the bathroom...not for the usual reasons, but for the view of the top of the Eiffel Tower all lit up with the spotlights at the top flashing over Paris from out the bathroom window.
The next morning started out properly Parisian, with freshly baked croissants and baguettes from the boulangerie down the street. With stomachs full of delicious French pastry, we meandered to République to catch the Metro towards École Militaire to see the Eiffel Tower up close and personal. In spite of Jillian's directions and a Paris map, Ashley and I ended up taking the longest route to the Eiffel Tower. Between all of the buildings and trees on the street, you can't actually see the Eiffel Tower from too far away when it's within a few blocks of you. :P We meandered up a street, attempting to follow signs, and ended up at a park where we got our first daylight view of Eiffel's gigantic metal creation. Ashley was really in touch with her French blood that day...she cried when she saw it. Some peddlers (our first encounter of the day) immediately spotted the blatant tourists and promptly convinced Ashley to buy their goods...thanks for the keychain! :) Now that we had the Eiffel Tower in sight, we walked toward the bottom to see how long the line to get to the top was. The whole garden below the tower is covered in guys trying to sell you all of the cheesiest souvenirs ever. Some Jamaican guys came up to Ashley and I, tied these yarn bracelets around our arms, and would not leave until we paid them...totally got ripped off, but we learned not to make eye contact with the peddlers quick! We lined up to get the lift to the top of the Tower and were periodically entertained by the bicycle cops cycling as fast they could to drive off the peddlers. I've never seen such a wave of people running from the cops and yelling out warnings to one another all at the same place, only to come harass tourists again 5 minutes later.
Eventually, the lift took us to the bottom level of the Eiffel Tower (about 20 stories up), where we could see out over the city in every direction. It was gorgeous! Unfortunately, all 500 plus pictures of France are those trapped on my camera until I can clear up some computer memory, so you'll just have to imagine the view for now. The clouds started to roll in, so we took the second elevator to the very top of the tower in order to beat the rain, which we did by about 5 minutes. The view from the top was shrouded in clouds and the rain started to come down after we had a few moments to appreciate what sights we could still see through the fog. Once we made it back to earth, we headed off in search of a slightly less touristy patisserie for lunch in PARIS! It still hadn't completely set in that we were in France. Ashley had some cheesy, oniony bread thing that we ordered by pointing at (could've used a real Parisian at that moment). I had a filled baguette, and once those were demolished, we went back inside to order strawberry tart and pain au chocolate. I don't think my taste buds have ever been so happy.
Jillian spent the evening accommodating her fellow Americans by taking us to Notre Dame and the Padlock bridge over the Seine. There was a random blood/organ donor festival going on on the way there outside of the Hotel de Ville, with clowns (Ashley's favorite), a French band, and a crazy confident old lady dressed up as a human heart dancing and spinning around. After we saw the gorgeous flying buttresses and the garden behind Notre Dame, we got our snap-happiness out and went to the concert at the donor festival. The band wasn't too bad and Jillian danced with a clown. Walking back to the apartment, the other two had to wait for me as I took pictures of everything (including the gargoyles on the church that I had to draw for class last year). Thus ended day 2 in Paris...really didn't mean to write this much about a day and half. If you aren't bored to death yet, I'll have a couple more posts about Paris done in the next couple of days (cross your fingers that procrastination doesn't set in again...).
SWAK,
A.
Irish-ism of the day:
puffed - exhausted. It sounds a "loads" cooler than worn out.
More Irish words...
Dia duit. - Hello. (Literally, God with you.)
Dia is Muire dhuit. - Hello back to you. (God and Mary be with you.)
After Dad left for the day, Ashley and I got packed for the flight to Paris that night. That was about the longest day of public transportation I've had yet...car, bus, plane, train, and Metro all in about 8 hours. The whole fact that I can't speak French added a bit to the adventure. I spaced the time change between France and Ireland, and we ended up getting to France more than a little bit after dark. Poor Jillian had to wait in Gare du Nord trying to fend off skeevy, forward French men to pick us up and lead us back to her apartment for the night. We also learned that my phone is stuck up when it comes to foreigners. It is near impossible to call my mobile if your phone is not Irish, but I can call international numbers with no problem whatsoever. We were beat by the time we straggled back down the dark road to Jillian's. Ashley & I piled into the smallest elevator ever (max capacity 3 people...erm, yeah, if you all suck in and think thin on the way in) to avoid the first 5 flights of stairs up to the apartment. We squeezed out of the elevator, up another flight of stairs, and went to the bathroom...not for the usual reasons, but for the view of the top of the Eiffel Tower all lit up with the spotlights at the top flashing over Paris from out the bathroom window.
The next morning started out properly Parisian, with freshly baked croissants and baguettes from the boulangerie down the street. With stomachs full of delicious French pastry, we meandered to République to catch the Metro towards École Militaire to see the Eiffel Tower up close and personal. In spite of Jillian's directions and a Paris map, Ashley and I ended up taking the longest route to the Eiffel Tower. Between all of the buildings and trees on the street, you can't actually see the Eiffel Tower from too far away when it's within a few blocks of you. :P We meandered up a street, attempting to follow signs, and ended up at a park where we got our first daylight view of Eiffel's gigantic metal creation. Ashley was really in touch with her French blood that day...she cried when she saw it. Some peddlers (our first encounter of the day) immediately spotted the blatant tourists and promptly convinced Ashley to buy their goods...thanks for the keychain! :) Now that we had the Eiffel Tower in sight, we walked toward the bottom to see how long the line to get to the top was. The whole garden below the tower is covered in guys trying to sell you all of the cheesiest souvenirs ever. Some Jamaican guys came up to Ashley and I, tied these yarn bracelets around our arms, and would not leave until we paid them...totally got ripped off, but we learned not to make eye contact with the peddlers quick! We lined up to get the lift to the top of the Tower and were periodically entertained by the bicycle cops cycling as fast they could to drive off the peddlers. I've never seen such a wave of people running from the cops and yelling out warnings to one another all at the same place, only to come harass tourists again 5 minutes later.
Eventually, the lift took us to the bottom level of the Eiffel Tower (about 20 stories up), where we could see out over the city in every direction. It was gorgeous! Unfortunately, all 500 plus pictures of France are those trapped on my camera until I can clear up some computer memory, so you'll just have to imagine the view for now. The clouds started to roll in, so we took the second elevator to the very top of the tower in order to beat the rain, which we did by about 5 minutes. The view from the top was shrouded in clouds and the rain started to come down after we had a few moments to appreciate what sights we could still see through the fog. Once we made it back to earth, we headed off in search of a slightly less touristy patisserie for lunch in PARIS! It still hadn't completely set in that we were in France. Ashley had some cheesy, oniony bread thing that we ordered by pointing at (could've used a real Parisian at that moment). I had a filled baguette, and once those were demolished, we went back inside to order strawberry tart and pain au chocolate. I don't think my taste buds have ever been so happy.
Jillian spent the evening accommodating her fellow Americans by taking us to Notre Dame and the Padlock bridge over the Seine. There was a random blood/organ donor festival going on on the way there outside of the Hotel de Ville, with clowns (Ashley's favorite), a French band, and a crazy confident old lady dressed up as a human heart dancing and spinning around. After we saw the gorgeous flying buttresses and the garden behind Notre Dame, we got our snap-happiness out and went to the concert at the donor festival. The band wasn't too bad and Jillian danced with a clown. Walking back to the apartment, the other two had to wait for me as I took pictures of everything (including the gargoyles on the church that I had to draw for class last year). Thus ended day 2 in Paris...really didn't mean to write this much about a day and half. If you aren't bored to death yet, I'll have a couple more posts about Paris done in the next couple of days (cross your fingers that procrastination doesn't set in again...).
SWAK,
A.
Irish-ism of the day:
puffed - exhausted. It sounds a "loads" cooler than worn out.
More Irish words...
Dia duit. - Hello. (Literally, God with you.)
Dia is Muire dhuit. - Hello back to you. (God and Mary be with you.)
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Slacking already.
As promised, I have gotten extremely behind on blogging. Normally, I could blame this terrible procrastination on classes and homework, but...classes started two days ago and, so far, I haven't gotten homework. Oh well, now I just have 2 weeks worth of blogging to do! I'll try to just start where I left off on September 19. On Sunday, Dad, Ashley, and I drove some more typical Irish roads from Limerick to the Cliffs of Moher. It looked cloudy and gray, which got us nervous, but it all worked out alright. I can't remember exactly how long we were driving. We kept thinking we were almost to the Cliffs of Moher because it felt like we would run out of island, but the road just kept winding on through the Irish countryside. When we made it to the Cliffs of Moher, the sun was still in hiding behind some clouds, but the cliffs were still visible with the ocean crashing against the rocks on the bottom. We walked up a bunch of steps along the railings/walls between the sidewalks and the slippery grass and rocks dropping off into the ocean. There was an old building at the top of the steps on one side of the cliffs that was a bit higher, so you could see out over the water and barely make out some of the smaller islands shrouded in mist in the water facing the cliffs. By the time we all wandered down the steps and up the other side of the sidewalks along the cliffs, the sun started to peek it's way out, lighting up the grass and cliff faces in a much brighter light. After wandering through the museum exhibit about the Cliffs of Moher built into the hills at the entrance, we learned that puffins are supposed to be around that area. Unfortunately, we had no such luck spotting them. A couple of hours and a few hundred pictures (good ones of landscape and awful ones of people) later, we meandered back to the car for a few more hours in the car to get to Galway. Little did we know that roads between the Cliffs of Moher and Galway are more than a little bit twisty.
I have never seen anybody get carsick before, but after driving on those roads I was extremely glad I wasn't Ashley. If we had had more than coffee and pastries a few hours earlier, Dad would have been paying for more than a new hubcap for the rental. The big double decker buses barreled down roads that might have been considered narrow one-ways at home, but are supposed to be a workable two-way road in Ireland. Never in my life have I been so grateful for interstates. At home, you can scoot over to let a car through. That courtesy is a bit more difficult when the edges of the roads are massively overgrown hedges or chipped (but still definitely solid) stone walls. If you're not scraping the windows with hedges, you're not driving correctly. The speed limit on all of the roads was 100 km (or about 62 mph)...I don't think we cracked 35 mph for the whole trip. (And, if you know how Dad can drive, that's saying something.) Somewhere along the way, we hit massive traffic and were driving through a town plastered in flags and pictures of cupids and hearts. We were some of the lucky people to get a drive-by experience of the annual Matchmaking Festival in Lisdoon. Based on how many old maids were wandering the streets and how few old men were to be seen, I doubt that much matchmaking was going to happen in that town...but those old ladies looked like they were out for blood. :P After we got out of the bumper-to-bumper traffic for the festival (don't laugh...I'm dead serious...men must be scarce in Ireland), we were overjoyed to be back on some more vomit-inducing roads! By the time we got to Galway, Ashley was a bit green, I had no fingernails left, and Dad had done more than couple more curb checks on stone curbs. I think we lost the hubcap somewhere between Galway and Bearna, Barna, where our hotel was.
Our hotel was pretty spiffy and about 15 minutes outside of Galway towards Connemarra in a supposedly Irish-speaking town called Barna. When we checked in, we got fresh iced-tea and plush couches for the 5 minutes that we were at reception at "The Twelve." In Irish terms, it was quite posh. I think it was the chocolate-covered strawberries and the cornbread with Metherd written on it in chocolate that really made us feel class. Oh, and I can't forget the special "mood lighting" switch in the bathroom, which turned on multi-colored lights (you know, just in case you wanted to feel like you were at the club when you were getting ready for bed). During the daytime, you could look out across the road to the ocean from the Juliet-style balcony too! We went out to eat at an Italian place in town and then crashed for the night.
On Monday, we drove into Galway's city centre and went exploring. We went down to the waterside and back up the main street for a bit. Dad wandered into a bookstore and sent Ashley and I off to meander down Shop Street. Galway has a really neat feel to the city, kind of like the hippy sister city of Dublin or Cork. The buskers on the street were really cool, with accordions, drums, and other instruments that I'd never seen before, just playing away on the side of the street. People were everywhere, going up and down the streets even in the middle of the workday. I guess when it's sunny in Ireland, you really take advantage of it! :P We headed back to Barna after a couple of hours, and Ashley & I went down to the coastline to take pictures by the craggy rocks and walk some more. It was beautiful and moody, but probably more than a little dangerous, since there was nothing to keep you from falling into the ocean except sure footing. After eating way more than a personal-sized pizza each at the hotel restaurant, we retreated to the room, content with our sea air and food babies.
The next day, the car got loaded up again and we made our way back to Dublin. This trek was mostly motorway, so the car did not inherit anymore scrapes or dings this time. Once we made it back to Dublin, we drove up to Malahide so Ashley could see my favorite seatown so far. In hunt for reasonable seafood, we ended up at a little cafe tucked along the main street through town. The fish and chips were delicious...it's really sad, though, that it took over 2 1/2 weeks to get fish and chips when we were on islands the whole time. Wednesday I could finally move into my dorm room in Moville on St. Pat's campus! A quick stop at school let me pick up my keys and pile a load of stuff in my room. On the way out the door to city centre, we met up with one of the other girls from UNC and I met a boy from Spain and a woman from Japan who are in my dorm too. The girl from the States came with us to city centre, where we tried to see what Dad wanted to see in Dublin before he went home. We went to Trinity College in the heart of the city, just on the south side of the River Liffey, to see the Book of Kells. The books were intricately written in perfect script by scribes and are still perfectly intact on the calfskin they were written on. The library at Trinity looks like something out of Harry Potter, with a huge arched ceiling and books lining the old wooden shelves that are probably older than the United States. The librarians working had to wear gloves and face masks to even touch the books. Busts of famous academics lined the walls and an ancient harp over 1000 years old sat intact in a glass case. After leaving Trinity, we crossed the cobblestones by the college to get back out onto Grafton St. and O'Connell Street. Eventually, we made it back to the car and headed back to the hotel before the meeting for international students at school that night. Ashley came to the meeting with me and tried to convince everyone that she was my sister...they fell for it, but I don't know how when she told them that I was "almost 20" and she was "still 19." & we're sisters, but I don't have a drop of Irish blood in me and Ashley is Irish and French. :P
Dad flew back to the States the next day in the morning, leaving Ashley & I at the school to get packed and ready for our flight to Paris in the afternoon. And on that note, I think I am done writing for tonight. Trying to catch up for two weeks takes a long time when 4 days is 5 pages. My writing is getting more boing by the minute, so it's time to quit for the night. The stories from the weekend in Paris need a more awake Ainslee to attempt to do them justice in writing. Plus, Paris deserves its' own blog post...it's just that kind of place! (:
Slán
(That's goodbye in Irish.)
New Irish-isms:
splash out: splurging, or going on a shopping spree (but usually meant sarcastically)
P.S. I'll put up pictures again soon, but my computer is out of memory so I've got some creative deleting ahead of me...but they're on their way! Dad & Ashley: Feel free to correct/add anything I left out, I've got a good "forgettory" too!
I have never seen anybody get carsick before, but after driving on those roads I was extremely glad I wasn't Ashley. If we had had more than coffee and pastries a few hours earlier, Dad would have been paying for more than a new hubcap for the rental. The big double decker buses barreled down roads that might have been considered narrow one-ways at home, but are supposed to be a workable two-way road in Ireland. Never in my life have I been so grateful for interstates. At home, you can scoot over to let a car through. That courtesy is a bit more difficult when the edges of the roads are massively overgrown hedges or chipped (but still definitely solid) stone walls. If you're not scraping the windows with hedges, you're not driving correctly. The speed limit on all of the roads was 100 km (or about 62 mph)...I don't think we cracked 35 mph for the whole trip. (And, if you know how Dad can drive, that's saying something.) Somewhere along the way, we hit massive traffic and were driving through a town plastered in flags and pictures of cupids and hearts. We were some of the lucky people to get a drive-by experience of the annual Matchmaking Festival in Lisdoon. Based on how many old maids were wandering the streets and how few old men were to be seen, I doubt that much matchmaking was going to happen in that town...but those old ladies looked like they were out for blood. :P After we got out of the bumper-to-bumper traffic for the festival (don't laugh...I'm dead serious...men must be scarce in Ireland), we were overjoyed to be back on some more vomit-inducing roads! By the time we got to Galway, Ashley was a bit green, I had no fingernails left, and Dad had done more than couple more curb checks on stone curbs. I think we lost the hubcap somewhere between Galway and Bearna, Barna, where our hotel was.
Our hotel was pretty spiffy and about 15 minutes outside of Galway towards Connemarra in a supposedly Irish-speaking town called Barna. When we checked in, we got fresh iced-tea and plush couches for the 5 minutes that we were at reception at "The Twelve." In Irish terms, it was quite posh. I think it was the chocolate-covered strawberries and the cornbread with Metherd written on it in chocolate that really made us feel class. Oh, and I can't forget the special "mood lighting" switch in the bathroom, which turned on multi-colored lights (you know, just in case you wanted to feel like you were at the club when you were getting ready for bed). During the daytime, you could look out across the road to the ocean from the Juliet-style balcony too! We went out to eat at an Italian place in town and then crashed for the night.
On Monday, we drove into Galway's city centre and went exploring. We went down to the waterside and back up the main street for a bit. Dad wandered into a bookstore and sent Ashley and I off to meander down Shop Street. Galway has a really neat feel to the city, kind of like the hippy sister city of Dublin or Cork. The buskers on the street were really cool, with accordions, drums, and other instruments that I'd never seen before, just playing away on the side of the street. People were everywhere, going up and down the streets even in the middle of the workday. I guess when it's sunny in Ireland, you really take advantage of it! :P We headed back to Barna after a couple of hours, and Ashley & I went down to the coastline to take pictures by the craggy rocks and walk some more. It was beautiful and moody, but probably more than a little dangerous, since there was nothing to keep you from falling into the ocean except sure footing. After eating way more than a personal-sized pizza each at the hotel restaurant, we retreated to the room, content with our sea air and food babies.
The next day, the car got loaded up again and we made our way back to Dublin. This trek was mostly motorway, so the car did not inherit anymore scrapes or dings this time. Once we made it back to Dublin, we drove up to Malahide so Ashley could see my favorite seatown so far. In hunt for reasonable seafood, we ended up at a little cafe tucked along the main street through town. The fish and chips were delicious...it's really sad, though, that it took over 2 1/2 weeks to get fish and chips when we were on islands the whole time. Wednesday I could finally move into my dorm room in Moville on St. Pat's campus! A quick stop at school let me pick up my keys and pile a load of stuff in my room. On the way out the door to city centre, we met up with one of the other girls from UNC and I met a boy from Spain and a woman from Japan who are in my dorm too. The girl from the States came with us to city centre, where we tried to see what Dad wanted to see in Dublin before he went home. We went to Trinity College in the heart of the city, just on the south side of the River Liffey, to see the Book of Kells. The books were intricately written in perfect script by scribes and are still perfectly intact on the calfskin they were written on. The library at Trinity looks like something out of Harry Potter, with a huge arched ceiling and books lining the old wooden shelves that are probably older than the United States. The librarians working had to wear gloves and face masks to even touch the books. Busts of famous academics lined the walls and an ancient harp over 1000 years old sat intact in a glass case. After leaving Trinity, we crossed the cobblestones by the college to get back out onto Grafton St. and O'Connell Street. Eventually, we made it back to the car and headed back to the hotel before the meeting for international students at school that night. Ashley came to the meeting with me and tried to convince everyone that she was my sister...they fell for it, but I don't know how when she told them that I was "almost 20" and she was "still 19." & we're sisters, but I don't have a drop of Irish blood in me and Ashley is Irish and French. :P
Dad flew back to the States the next day in the morning, leaving Ashley & I at the school to get packed and ready for our flight to Paris in the afternoon. And on that note, I think I am done writing for tonight. Trying to catch up for two weeks takes a long time when 4 days is 5 pages. My writing is getting more boing by the minute, so it's time to quit for the night. The stories from the weekend in Paris need a more awake Ainslee to attempt to do them justice in writing. Plus, Paris deserves its' own blog post...it's just that kind of place! (:
Slán
(That's goodbye in Irish.)
New Irish-isms:
splash out: splurging, or going on a shopping spree (but usually meant sarcastically)
P.S. I'll put up pictures again soon, but my computer is out of memory so I've got some creative deleting ahead of me...but they're on their way! Dad & Ashley: Feel free to correct/add anything I left out, I've got a good "forgettory" too!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
To Dingle & beyond!
Today was a lot of driving for one day. We woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn (but was probably closer to 7 am lol) to check out and start on our first trek to Killarney. After leaving the "class" hotel in Cork, we sat in the car for the hour and half drive on windy roads to Killarney National Park and the historic Muckross House. Addresses are a scarce commodity over here. Even when you do get an address, it rarely comes in the typical format...you know, the kind with a house number attached. This Irish tradition makes finding places tucked into the woods a tad difficult to find, but I guess it's all part of the adventure. :P Killarney National Park was gorgeous! The grounds, originally encompassing 11,000 acres of lush Irish land, now covers nearly 25,000 acres of land. The house on the grounds was built in the 1800s and sold a few times, before being given to Ireland as a gift from the current owners in the 1930s. There are immaculate gardens surrounding the house and vine and moss-covered trees overshadow paths that lead to waterfalls and lakes. Horse and buggy rides clip clopping across the pavement around the house make you feel like you're in a whole different world. It never ceases to amaze me how old everything over here is. You will see brand new buildings put up around crumbling stone walls with ferns growing out of every nook and cranny.
After touring the house that Queen Victoria once stayed in for a whole two nights, Dad, Ashley, and I explored a bit in the woods to the boathouse and through the aged woods. We went into a weavers' shop in the park and then jumped back in the car. The GPS (or "sat nav" here) directed us out along a spindly peninsula to the fishing town of Dingle. Dingle reminded me a lot of Kinsale, with boats dotting an open quay and wall-to-wall streets filled with shops and cafes catering to camera-laden tourists such as myself...We found a late lunch in a side street cafe called the Goat Cheese Cafe. Dad & I finally tried seafood in Ireland! I can't believe it actually took us this long. Ashley had a questionable encounter with something in her penne that may have even been eel...I really don't want to know what it is. From Dingle, we wound our way back down the peninsula and onto mainland toward Adare. Adare is a town with a bunch of thatched cottages. When we finally got to Adare, the sun was setting and drowsiness was majorly setting in, so we looked around from the car and headed on toward Limerick.
The hotel we booked in Limerick looked awesome online with blue lights on the outside that reflected down onto the river right next to the hotel. We started to get a bit nervous when we were less than a mile from where the hotel is and we were driving through some of the sketchiest area that we have seen since arriving in Europe. People were scarce and graffitti seemed more common than street signs. Then we crossed a bridge and everything looked a lot better! Luckily, the hotel is on the non-ghetto side of the street. The hotel is majorly modern, with paintings of cartoon-esque flying sheep and a sheep eating cupcakes (don't worry...I definitely took pictures of that). It's really classy...we decided it's neat to stay in for a night, but we're more Best Western people. :P When we went in and asked for a table without having a reservation at the restaurant downstairs, the hostess looked at us like, "Good luck with that." It felt kind of like the couple in Date Night when they wanted a table at Claw. But hey...the Slavokian waiter told us he likes our accents!
I forgot to mention what we did yesterday! We spent the morning at the Blarney Castle, which was built in 1442. It's amazing to think that something that old is still significantly intact after all of these years. The stairs to the top of the castle were extremely small and slippery from wear of millions of tourists' feet. You have to hang on to a rope bolted to the wall to make it up the dizzyingly spiral staircase. If you're feeling brave, you can poke your head out of the random holes in the walls that they call windows. It was a clear, sunny day (yes, they DO have them!) and we could see for miles out across the towns and fields lined by more hedgerows. If you make it to the top of the castle, you have to walk around the outer edge of the castle past the Blarney Stone to get to the equally scary stairs heading back to ground level. Ashley & I were not planning on kissing the possibly disease-ridden rock, but when we got up there, we figured that it's our only chance and it's ridiculously cliche...but why not? You have to lay on the floor of the castle and hang on to the metal rails as you stick your head (& half of your body) out over the edge of the wall to reach the stone. Was it worth it? We'll see...maybe if I magically become eloquent.
We drove to the quaint, picturesque town of Kinsale on the Irish coast near Cork after the Blarney Castle. Wandering along the town streets and docks took a couple of relaxed hours before we headed back to Cork City. Ashley and I went along the curvy main road to look at the shops. We found a soap shop with chunks of solid soap with random bits of fruit and honey imbedded in it. In search of a cafe that was actually open after the late late hour of 6 o'clock, we found a little cafe on a corner that served us brilliant banoffee (caramel, banana, graham cracker crust, chocolate goodness) and smoothies. Perfect end to a good day. (:
Tomorrow we're headed up to see the Cliffs of Moher and Galway...can't wait!
After touring the house that Queen Victoria once stayed in for a whole two nights, Dad, Ashley, and I explored a bit in the woods to the boathouse and through the aged woods. We went into a weavers' shop in the park and then jumped back in the car. The GPS (or "sat nav" here) directed us out along a spindly peninsula to the fishing town of Dingle. Dingle reminded me a lot of Kinsale, with boats dotting an open quay and wall-to-wall streets filled with shops and cafes catering to camera-laden tourists such as myself...We found a late lunch in a side street cafe called the Goat Cheese Cafe. Dad & I finally tried seafood in Ireland! I can't believe it actually took us this long. Ashley had a questionable encounter with something in her penne that may have even been eel...I really don't want to know what it is. From Dingle, we wound our way back down the peninsula and onto mainland toward Adare. Adare is a town with a bunch of thatched cottages. When we finally got to Adare, the sun was setting and drowsiness was majorly setting in, so we looked around from the car and headed on toward Limerick.
The hotel we booked in Limerick looked awesome online with blue lights on the outside that reflected down onto the river right next to the hotel. We started to get a bit nervous when we were less than a mile from where the hotel is and we were driving through some of the sketchiest area that we have seen since arriving in Europe. People were scarce and graffitti seemed more common than street signs. Then we crossed a bridge and everything looked a lot better! Luckily, the hotel is on the non-ghetto side of the street. The hotel is majorly modern, with paintings of cartoon-esque flying sheep and a sheep eating cupcakes (don't worry...I definitely took pictures of that). It's really classy...we decided it's neat to stay in for a night, but we're more Best Western people. :P When we went in and asked for a table without having a reservation at the restaurant downstairs, the hostess looked at us like, "Good luck with that." It felt kind of like the couple in Date Night when they wanted a table at Claw. But hey...the Slavokian waiter told us he likes our accents!
I forgot to mention what we did yesterday! We spent the morning at the Blarney Castle, which was built in 1442. It's amazing to think that something that old is still significantly intact after all of these years. The stairs to the top of the castle were extremely small and slippery from wear of millions of tourists' feet. You have to hang on to a rope bolted to the wall to make it up the dizzyingly spiral staircase. If you're feeling brave, you can poke your head out of the random holes in the walls that they call windows. It was a clear, sunny day (yes, they DO have them!) and we could see for miles out across the towns and fields lined by more hedgerows. If you make it to the top of the castle, you have to walk around the outer edge of the castle past the Blarney Stone to get to the equally scary stairs heading back to ground level. Ashley & I were not planning on kissing the possibly disease-ridden rock, but when we got up there, we figured that it's our only chance and it's ridiculously cliche...but why not? You have to lay on the floor of the castle and hang on to the metal rails as you stick your head (& half of your body) out over the edge of the wall to reach the stone. Was it worth it? We'll see...maybe if I magically become eloquent.
We drove to the quaint, picturesque town of Kinsale on the Irish coast near Cork after the Blarney Castle. Wandering along the town streets and docks took a couple of relaxed hours before we headed back to Cork City. Ashley and I went along the curvy main road to look at the shops. We found a soap shop with chunks of solid soap with random bits of fruit and honey imbedded in it. In search of a cafe that was actually open after the late late hour of 6 o'clock, we found a little cafe on a corner that served us brilliant banoffee (caramel, banana, graham cracker crust, chocolate goodness) and smoothies. Perfect end to a good day. (:
Tomorrow we're headed up to see the Cliffs of Moher and Galway...can't wait!
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