Musings on My Last Day

I'm packed. Well, just about packed. I have left out a few things like my straightener and what have you. My apartment is close to clean. I guess it's finally sinking in that I am leaving. The closer 9:30AM tomorrow comes, the less I want it to.

I have been going through all my pictures and memories (mostly while making my lovely online scrapbook). Musing on my time here, if you will. And I figured that it would make sense to give my Ireland advice in my last post. So, here's the compilation of the things I wish I had known before coming to Ireland/Dublin.

1. You will walk. Especially if you are in Dublin. Bring comfortable shoes.
2. If you are going to be in Dublin for more than 2 or 3 days and plan on using public transportation to get around, go to the Dublin bus station on O'Connell Street and get yourself a Leap Card. Hell, even if you are there 2 or 3 days, you might want to get one.
3. If you possibly can, stay in City Centre (O'Connell St, Trinity College, Temple Bar area).
4. If you don't follow that advice, just know that buses stop running at 11:30.
5. Some website say that Dublin Airport is only 5 miles away from City Centre. Don't do it. Don't stay in a hotel out by the airport. It's not in Dublin. It's in the middle of nowhere.  Only stay out there if you have a really early flight out the next morning.
6. There is no underground in Dublin/Ireland.
7. Dublin (more specifically Temple Bar) is expensive. You can find cheaper places, but really, prepare yourself for 5€ pints.
8. Always bring an umbrella/rain coat. I don't care if it is sunny without a cloud in the sky in the morning. It will rain. It will always rain.
9. A rain coat is more practical than an umbrella. A lot of times, there's wind that will destroy the thing. That's why most Dubliners don't carry them.
10. For the love of God, do not order an Irish Car Bomb anywhere in Ireland. That's the equivalent of going to New York City (or anywhere else in America) and asking for a drink called a 9/11.
11. As with most of Europe, French fries = chips, and chips = crisps.
12. Go to Galway (pronounced Gaul-way, not Gal-way). It's probably the most fun you will have in Ireland. (And go to pubs while you are there, not clubs.)
13. While you are in Galway, make a day trip out to the Aran Islands (Inishmore). It's a whole different way of life. (They didn't get electricity until 1972!) You definitely won't regret going out there.
14. I know everyone says go to the Cliffs of Moher, and they are cool. But if you can't do both, go to the Aran Islands instead. They are less tourist-y and definitely cooler. 
15. Irishrail is super nice and has free WiFi. It's my favourite way to get around Ireland.
16. If you are in Belfast, do a Black Cab tour. They are pretty cheap (£10) and really, really good. But only if you are interested in the history of the city (i.e. The Troubles). 
17. Don't expect Belfast/Northern Ireland to be like the Republic. It's a whole different world up there.
18. Either drive or go on a tour around the Ring of Kerry. It's super incredible. That and the Aran Islands are my two must-sees in Ireland. (If you are looking for a tour of the Ring of Kerry from Dublin, Cork, or Limerick, Paddy Wagon does good, relatively cheap ones.)
19. Cork is a cool place and great craic at night, but there isn't much do to in Cork City. From Cork, you can get a bus to Blarney, which is one of those have-to-do tourist-y things. I do regret not going out to West Cork. That is supposed to be very incredible. I guess my recommendation is don't plan too much time in Cork. There are better places to go.
20. OK, so St. Patrick's Day. It is not St. Patty's Day, like most Americans think. It's Saint Paddy's Day with two d's. Patty is the diminutive of Patricia. Paddy, however, is the diminutive of Patrick, or Padraig, as it is in Irish. However, most Irish people just refer to it as Paddy's Day. (This also explains why it's Paddy Wagon tours, not Patty Wagon tours.)
21. Irish people are super nice. (Unless, of course, you are English and screaming potatoes...they don't take too kindly to that.)
22. Oliver Cromwell did awful things to Ireland. If you are a Cromwell fan, don't bring it up.
23. Watch out for the large tour groups with backpacks. Every summer, I am pretty sure every Italian and Spanish person ever goes on a tour of Ireland and stays in Dublin. They are loud, in the way, and will invade an entire bus relentlessly. We got to know them by their backpack colours. ("Not the red backpacks!" "Oh God, it's the blue messenger bags again!") If you see them, run the other way. 
24. Irish food (as in grocery store food) is quite delicious. If you get a chance, get some fresh produce. It tastes like it is fresh out of the garden.
25. Go to the Guinness Factory. It's a really neat tour, and the Gravity Bar is incredible. 
26. Craic (pronounced like 'crack') is the Irish word for fun.
27. There are hardly any water foundations in Ireland. I don't think I have seen one yet. Bring a plastic reusable water bottle (my Nalgene has served me well) or be prepared to pay repeatedly for water at the store.
28. If you can rent a car, drive out to Connemara in County Galway. It's a beautiful area, and it seems like a whole different world.
29. Garlic mayo is incredible. Try it.
30. So is Thai Sweet Chili sauce.
31. McDonalds has twisty fries here. They are great drunk food. 
32. The best fish and chips that I had was in a fishing town out in Connemara called Carna. Some people say that Beshoffs has the best fish and chips, but I have found that pub fish and chips are better. But really, all the fish in Ireland is good. 
33. I know that you what to drink Guinness for the novelty (and really, Ireland is the only place to drink Guinness), but branch out and drink some other Irish beers. Smithwicks is really good. Bulmers (cider) is awesome (called Magnars in the States). Irish whiskey is awesome too.
34. Watch Gaelic Football and Hurling. It's really cool.
35. Chicken strips = chicken goujons
36. If you find good Irish food (ie Irish stew, bangers and mash, etc), it's really nice. It's particularly good in the West of Ireland. 
37. If you ever find yourself in need to cheap clothing (like wedges for going out or something), go to Penney's. It's a beautiful place. Also, it's where I got my Batman onesie. However, while their wedges are great, don't buy their heels. They are the most painful shoes on the planet.
38. On Suffolk St (right before Grafton Street and near Trinity) is a restaurant called The Counter. Go there. Get a burger and a cosmo. They are incredible. 
39. Go to the Puck Fair. Especially at night. That's when it is supposed to be the best. However, as one of the guys at Chambers upstairs told me, you need to leave all sense of normalcy at the door. Yes, there is a mountain goat being crowned the King of Kerry. Yes, there is a 12 year old girl who is supposedly married to the goat. It's odd. But that's Ireland, and it's great.

So that's about what I have for you. Ireland, it's been fun. And thanks to you all for listening to my self-indulgent non-sense. 

I Don't Wanna Go

It's weird to think that my time in Dublin is almost over. It's one of those trips where you don't think about your life after it. Two months seems like such a long time, like it is never going to end but in a good way. Needless to say, I haven't thought much about packing up all my stuff at home and heading back to school. 

Tomorrow is my last day of work. I am quite excited in that respect. However, today, one of my bosses told me to go back to my apartment and start packing. I don't really want to start packing, though. Once I start packing, it'll sink in that I am leaving. 

I guess I am excited to go home. I've missed the family--my mom and grandmother more than anyone...and Nana's cooking of course. :) And I am super excited to go back to Tufts and see all my friends. I was looking at this website called "How Fucked is the T?" during work yesterday, and I got super homesick for Boston. But it'll be hard to leave Dublin. It's kind of become my home too. 

Anyways, that's my sentimental rambling. Please ignore it. 

To make up for it, here's a funny picture that I found and posted on Facebook. I hope you like it.

Famous Dolphins and King Goats

So, my weekend was a little silly to say the least. It all started with me and a friend of mine, Matt, getting on the train to Killarney. After three and a half hours, we were finally there. Now, even though Killarney is small, we still managed to get a wee bit lost, before finding the hostel, but we found the hostel soon enough. 

After getting all settled in, we went downstairs to watch some of the Olympics. Track was on, more specifically, some running event and pole-vaulting. The pole-vaulting was pretty sick. Anyways, eventually, we started talking with the only two other people in the room who spoke English. (Quite literally, everyone was French.) These two guys were from Guernsey, one of the UK Channel Islands off the coast of France. After talking for a little while, we decided to go to O'Connor's, the pub that my boss told me I had to go to. It wasn't very far from the hostel at all (although, in Killarney, most things are a ten minute walk at most). 

At O'Connors, it was pretty crowded downstairs, and so the four of us figured that we could go and sit upstairs. We sat down in this party room and continued talking. It wasn't until a middle-aged Irish man came into the room and closed the curtains that we realized that we weren't at all supposed to be there. This guy got up to the front of the room and continued the show that he had started a few hours ago. He told a series of inappropriate jokes about an Irish couple, Tom and Mary. He also had a funny way of talking. It started out with a fast shout and just continued to get louder and faster. I thought it was all part of his show. However, we met him after the show. It wasn't an act. I am pretty sure that guy does loads of speed or something. But he was super nice. He got the 4 of us into the Grand Hotel for free. However, after a couple of pints, we decided to go back to the hostel and get some sleep. All of us were quite tired.

The next morning, I woke up around 9:30 and Matt and I walked over to the bus station to get a bus ticket to Dingle for the day. I had been wanting to go just because I hear it is super pretty. However, the bus didn't leave until 1:05. so we went back to the hostel, where we met up with the two Guernsey guys again. We went to a pub called Danny Mann's and got a full Irish breakfast. Afterwards, the four of us bummed around Killarney for a bit until Matt and I had to catch our bus. 

Dingle was a nice little town. It's right along the seaside, and the bus ride there was super pretty. However, it didn't seem like a place to spend much time in. We walked around. I took picture of Fungie, the dolphin that has been chilling around Dingle since 1983 or something. Then took the 4PM bus back through Tralee. The entire bus ride back took roughly two and a half some odd hours, but at least the scenery was pretty. That Saturday night, we just decided to chill in the hostel and prepare for Sunday.

Check out was at 10, and so we put our bags in the luggage storage so we wouldn't have too much to carry around the fair at Killorglin. The first bus out there was at 11:30, so we went to a cafe, grabbed some breakfast and made our way back to the bus station. The bus ride to Killorglin isn't terribly long, only 30 minutes or so. Despite getting to the fair kind of early, it was still super packed. The main street was closed off and lined with shops and at the centre is King Puck, in a plastic cage with grass on the floor, wearing a crown, all on top of a 30 ft high scaffolding tower. Near the library, there was a band playing, a man telling stories, and four Irish kids doing traditional dances. We went into a cafe for more food, and then went back out to hear the music and the crazy guy telling stories. He asked if there were any Americans in the crowd. We were the only ones. And so he called us out when he started telling a story about an Irish couple. the Murphys, in the Wild West. Apparently they were better than Buffalo Bill, or something. After that, it was just about time to catch the 3PM bus back to Killarney to make sure that we didn't miss our 5:45 train. So we walked over to the bus stop just outside town and made our way back to Killarney. 

I got home from Killarney around 10PM, and I started skyping with Dip, back in the States, because I figured that I still didn't have any housemates. And lo and behold, I actually had two new housemates, ultimate frisbee players from the UK who are in Dublin to help coach the world tournament or something. Another one came yesterday. So now I have new friends, which is exciting, but they aren't around a lot, just because of being so busy with the tournament.

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So that was about the extent of my weekend. I still can't believe that I only have a couple of days left in Ireland. I am excited to be almost done with work, to go back home, and back to school and everything, but I don't want my adventure to end. I am going to miss Ireland a lot.

Medieval Castles, King Puck, Kittens, Otherwise Known as My Weekend in Kilkenny and on the Ring of Kerry

Kilkenny

So like I said in my last post, I went to Kilkenny on Sunday. I had to get up early to catch the one bus that went into town before 9:30, in order to catch my 9:10 train. After I woke up and got ready, I said goodbye to Kari and Megan, and I nearly cried while walking to the bus stop. I took the 13 bus and got into town. After grabbing some McDonalds (literally the only thing open on O'Connell Street), I went to Heuston Station to catch my train. The train ride was about an hour and a half; I had no idea that Kilkenny was that far from Dublin. It always seemed close on a map and in my head.

Anyways, I got off the train at 10:30 and just started wandering. Kilkenny is a very small place, so almost instinctively, you go towards the centre of town. I hit the main bridge over the River Nore and found a walking path. Having no idea what else to do, I followed it. I led me along the river quite a ways, and probably after 2 miles or so, there was an old checkpoint house, and the paved road turned to gravel. This gravel path eventually turned to quite a bit of mud. My Chucks got very dirty. I walked past large, beautiful fields and through a small forest. This seemed, to me, to be the real Ireland. I eventually hit private farms and decided to turn back.

Once I got back, I made my way up to Kilkenny Castle. Since I had to pay money, I decided against going in the castle and instead opted for sitting on the grounds and reading The Glass Room, the book that I just started by Simon Mawer. It's quite good, about a couple Viktor, a Jew, and Liesel, a gentile, who got married in the 1920s, built an über modern house in the Czech Republic. It then follows there relationship through World War II and stuff, but I am only up to the Anschluss. Anyways, while I was sitting in Kilkenny Castle Park, a blonde girl approached me. I had noticed her when I got off the train. She was alone with a backpack and wearing a GPS around her neck. I saw her again when I was walking back from my trail-walking adventure. "This is the third time I saw you, so I decided I had to talk with you," she said. Her English was heavily accented but clear and practiced. I found out that her name is Daniela, she is German and living in Dublin. She works at an insurance firm down in Blackrock and had been geo-caching in Kilkenny. We talked for a little while and decided to wander to a pub for lunch. We eventually found a small pub off the beaten path and went inside. They had a very extensive menu, even offering beef curry. I had a perfectly mediocre hamburger and a pint of Smithwicks, and I was quite a happy camper. 

After the pub, we worked our way slowly back to the train station, but it started downpouring, so we went to a different pub for a pint and to wait until the rain blew over. It was still raining when we left, but we needed to make the 3:50 train back to Dublin, so we scurried over to the station. We made it with plenty of time, and we got back to Dublin around 5:30. After returning, I went to Tesco to finally restock my very empty fridge. Now it's full of salmon, lettuce, fruit, and all sorts of other goodness. That night I made myself dinner and retired early for my Ring of Kerry day tour the next morning.

The Ring of Kerry

I had to wake up at 5:15, because the taxi was coming at 5:45. Since it was a bank holiday, the buses didn't start running until 9 or 9:30. So I had to call a cab, something I hate doing. I made it to O'Connell Street by 6, 25 minutes before I had to grab the Paddy Wagon bus outside the O'Connell St Tourism Office. I grabbed McDonalds for breakfast and then went to the wrong tourism office and really only made it to the bus by shear luck. 

Then the 3 and a half hour drive to Killarney began. Luckily the bus had WiFi. However,I had limited iPhone battery, and nothing was going on on Facebook at 2AM EST on a Monday morning anyway. So I passed out for 15-20 minute intervals before the bus bouncing jarred me awake. After 2 and a half hours, we met up with other Paddywagon buses in Adare, a very tiny town. Most of the houses had thatched roofs, whether or not that is for the tourists' benefit, I am not sure. After a little while, we split up, and a different bus took me to Killarney. 

In Killarney, we were given 30 minutes to wander before we had to be back on the bus to start the tour. I walked through central Killarney to see an adorable town. It is completely surrounded by mountains, all the buildings are painted in bright colours, and the streets are very tidy. I found a Gloria Jean's coffee shop and grabbed a small sandwich and some tea before the bus set off. 

We started the journey with Paul O'Hays crazy stories (apparently he was mugged by "the nicest muggers" in Philly) and by going through Killorglin. However, before we hit the small town outside Killarney, we stopped the bus at a large mountain goat tied up in a small pen on the side of the road. "This goat was the King of Kerry six years ago! Isn't he a fine goat?" Paul O'Hay, my chatty tour guide explained. I figured he would be like, "you actually believed that?!" after we all got out and took pictures, but I did it anyway. However, afterward, he explained the story. When Oliver Cromwell was going through Munster killing quite literally every Irish person he could find, the town of Killorglin got lucky. After Cromwell murdered the entirety of Kenmare, him and his army started to make its way through the mountains towards Killorglin. They got held up by some mountain goats. Now, a sidenote, mountain goats are quite special in Celtic paganism, I think Paul O'Hay said that they were the symbol of fertility or something. In addition, it quite rare to see one in the mountains, let alone a whole herd. And unheard of to see a whole herd running through a town. So when the people of Killorglin saw this herd of mountain goats running along the main street of town, they knew something was up, so they all ran to hide in the mountains, and the entire village was spared. Therefore, every year, they bring a mountain goat down from the mountains, treat it like a king, and then crown it the King of Kerry. The goat is always known as King Puck. Then they let it go up in the mountains. Meanwhile, all the residents of Killorglin are getting rip-roaring drunk for three days straight. Lucky for me, the festival is this weekend. I know what I am going to be doing. All hail King Puck!

Anyways, our adventure continued after that, we stopped at various points along the ring. All of them were stunningly beautiful. You can't say a bad word about the Ring of Kerry, you really can't. At around 2PM, Paul O'Hay declared it "beer o'clock," and we grabbed lunch at this small thatched-house restaurant. I got a really good Irish stew and Guinness, mostly because Paul O'Hay told me to. By the time lunch rolled around, I had made friends with a South African guy on the bus. His name is Arlen, and he is quite an interesting dude. He grew up in South Africa, graduated the equivalent of a two year college at 17 and then moved to the Netherlands to join the Netherlands Royal Navy. He is currently studying at the naval academy to become an engineer of sorts. Leave it to me to befriend all the engineers without intending to. 

All the cute.

After lunch, we worked our way to a really pretty part of the ring just outside the touristy Waterville called Baslickane. In the pull-off that we stopped at, there was a guy with two sheep, a red deer, a puppy, and three adorable kittens. Needless to say, I freaked out. Arlen made fun of me and told me that I am going become a crazy cat lady. Didn't take long for him to realize that one... After I held a kitten for a while (and awed at its little mews and paws), Arlen and I took in the sites and discussed politics. He didn't know too much about American politics, but he did remark that our gun laws are silly and I agreed. He was one of the long list of non-Americans that I have talked to who doesn't understand why we don't have very good gun control in America. My response usually is don't get me started, but then I end up ranting anyways. Good times. 

Sneem

After the stop with the kittens, we made our way along the ring further. Stopped in a small, cute town called Sneem briefly before making our way to Lady's View and the Torc Waterfall. Both of which were quite beautiful. Afterwards, we went back to Killarney. We had a half an hour, so Arlen and I grabbed a pint at a pub in the town centre. He asked me about America. Mostly whether or not we always have red cups and play beer bong at parties. He also asked whether or not college was like American Pie. After the pub, we made our way back to the International Hotel to take the Paddywagon back to Dublin. 

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So that's what's been going on. The apartment is pretty lonely without my housemates. I wonder whether or not this is what real life is like, just going to work, coming home, making dinner, vegging out, going to bed, and doing it all over again. I guess that can be your life if you make it that way. But anyways, work has been work. I have recently become an Olympics junkie. I was quite upset today when Eurovision messed up and didn't broadcast Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh playing China. They won, but it was quite tight. I wish I could have seen it live. Anyways, that's my life right now. Pretty excited to see the new King Puck be crowned King of Kerry this weekend. That should be quite the trip.

I am Tarzan...I come from Mars.

Today began the strange and surreal process of my housemates leaving me to go back to the States or on some other European adventure. Kristen left early this morning for a family cruise from Venice to the Greek Isles. Saying goodbye to her last night felt like a dream. It was pretty sad when I woke up this morning and remembered that she was gone. Megan, Kari, and Bri all leave tomorrow morning, but I am going to be on my way to Kilkenny. I couldn't stand the thought of just sitting in an empty apartment all day. 


Anyways, that's the sad stuff. You probably want to hear about my relatively odd day. 


Kari, her friend Ari, and I got a relatively late start going into town, as we were out pretty late the night before. We hopped on the 11 bus at 2PM and went to town. We were planning on hopping off at the first Trinity stop. However, there was the largest traffic jam I have ever seen around there. Buses were backed up and quite literally at a stand still. After waiting for us to move for ten minutes, we went downstairs and the bus driver let us off. Lo and behold, the cause of this traffic jam: a Zombie March. I had heard about the Zombie March the previous day, but I didn't think that they would take up the major streets. 


After that bit of amusement, Kari, Ari, and I walked down to the Porterhouse to grab some lunch. Since everyone is leaving, there is no food in our apartment, and therefore, no breakfast for me. By 2:30, I was starving. Bri met up with us at the Porterhouse, and after lunch, we wandered around Dublin to show Ari the city. We made our way through Temple Bar and pushed on westwards along the quays. We then made our way past Christ Church and eventually to St. Patrick's Cathedral. I had never seen St. Patrick's Cathedral until today, and it's a beautiful imposing stone church. There is also a park out front, so we took a nap in the sunshine on the grass. It was quite lovely and much needed. 


We then made our way back towards Temple Bar with the intention of eating in the Temple Bar. However, as usual, the place was packed, and we couldn't find a table, so instead we went to the Brazen Head. And oh Lord, was that interesting. It started out as just Kari, Ari, Bri, and myself. Megan and Mick joined us after we got our food. The entire meal, there was this adorable dog adjacent to us. He was looking at us with longing eyes, and eventually, his owner gave him a little slack on his leash so we could pet him. We found out his name was Jesse, and once we started petting him, he wouldn't leave us alone. It was adorable. 

However, not all of our dinner was cute. It all started when this randomer came up to Mick and asked him if he was Australian. You wouldn't even have to hear Mick talk to know that he's Irish. The pale skin is kind of a dead giveaway that he is, in fact, not Australian. This randomer hovered kind of close to our table, periodically reaching over Bri to put out his cigarettes in our ashtray. He had a huge head and was quite loud. He made horse noises when he smoked; it actually sounded quite painful. Eventually, he decided to break the ice by...petting Bri's head. It was all quite bizarre. He claimed he was Tarzan and that he came from Mars. When Bri asked if he lived in a house on Mars, he proceeded to say, "No, we leave in peace and harmony." He then told Mick about a crocodile in Mexico that hopped into a swimming pool and ate an Irish couple. I am still not sure if there are crocodiles in Mexico... At one point, he started singing about putting on a black shirt and going to work on Monday morning. Afterwards, he got oddly philosophical and spoke about not thinking about the past or the future and that his goal in life is to become enlightened. He then told us how much he likes funny people and started double-fisting whiskey and Cokes. He was quite an interesting dude. 


So yeah, that was my bizarre day. As I said, I am going to Kilkenny tomorrow, because the thought of an empty apartment depresses the hell out of me. I also am going to see the Ring of Kerry on Monday, because bank holidays are great. Pretty psyched about both of those. 

My London Fiasco

So I just got home from my accidentally extended weekend in London. And it was kind of a disaster...

Friday Night

I got on my Ryanair flight on Friday after work, quite excited to be going to the Olympics. I was also excited to prove 300lb guy from Galway wrong. Yes, I did, in fact, fit into a Ryanair seat. However, as I was getting off the flight, I couldn't find my passport. Thinking it was buried deeper in my bag, I walked off the flight, and dumped it out in the airport. It wasn't there...so thus began my weekend...

After freaking out and nearly breaking down crying in front of the customs guy, I was let into the UK. I hopped onto the Gatwick Express train, and took to it West Hampstead. After a little bit of walking (Paul refused to actually meet me at the train station), I found him and his friend Naomi, whom I had met before in Boston. 

We got back to Paul's house around 10:30 or 11, and him, Naomi, and I watched the rest of the opening ceremony and ate chicken, potatoes and salad for dinner. Well, Naomi and I ate chicken, potatoes, and salad. Paul only ate chicken, because he is weird and doesn't like vegetables. After the crazy cool cauldron was lit, we decided to go to bed, because Paul and I had a really long day ahead of us on Saturday.

Saturday

Paul and I woke up at 5:30 in the morning for the volleyball game at Earls Court. We got our tickets kind of late, and as such, we got the 9:30 set of matches, the Japan vs. Algeria and China vs. Serbia games. Our tickets said be there two hours early for check in and what have you, so we left for the Tube at 6:45 or so. The train in wasn't bad, and when we got there at 7:10ish, the queue wasn't even that long, so we got into the arena, at around 7:30 or 7:45. Hurray, two hours to wait before the games even start. 

We bummed around the edges of the arena for a while because we weren't allowed to go in and find our seats until 8:30 or something. So we went to the souvenir stand, and I got Shea and myself black official Olympic Volleyball Venue t-shirts...fancy. I also got a day program, and Paul and I had a nice conversation with the girl working the stand. She was a medical student at Warwick or something, so Paul went on his rant about how awful Warwick is and what have you. After grabbing some fairly-decent priced food (for a sports event, that is), we took our seats and the game started. 

The Japan v. Algeria game was a painful one to watch. Japan was good, no doubt, but it seemed like the Algeria team was beating themselves. They let so many serves go into the net,  and they hit out of bounds a lot. Because most people there had won tickets or taken them from friends and relatives who couldn't come, they had no idea a lot of the finer points of what was going on (liberos, back-row attacks, etc.), so I got to be the all-knowing one that explained it to them. That was pretty fun. The second match was China v. Serbia and that was slightly better. Serbia dominated China the first round, and that was a great game to watch. However, after that, Serbia just fell apart, and China won the match in four.  Also there was some Chinese guy who kept on getting on the screen because he was wearing a panda onesie. Paul sought him out and hugged him after the match. Even though it wasn't team I cared about, it was a great time and super incredible to see Olympic volleyball. 

Afterwards, however, was a little less than great. We made our way down to the police station to file  a missing/stolen passport report at my boss's recommendation...and we waited there for two hours just to have them tell me to go to the Embassy. A bit of advice if you lose your passport (especially on a weekend), people will tell give you their best bit of advice and what have you, but really, it's not any help. Instead of going to the police station, just call them, it takes way less time. And e-mail the Embassy as soon as possible. I lost mine on a Friday, so I waited until Sunday to e-mail them. I e-mailed them on Sunday afternoon, and, even though they were closed, they got back to me within two and a half hours. So honestly, just go immediately to the Embassy. It's the only thing that's really worth your time.

yup...this happened

Anyways, after the great waste of time that was a London police station, we walked around town for a while. Paul tried to show me Dumbledore's Office, which is in the King's College Library, but it was closed on the weekend. Sad face. After that, we went to the four story monstrosity that is M&M World. 4 stories of M&Ms and M&M-themed products. For example, there is a Swarovski crystal leather jacket that costs more than a ticket to the Opening Ceremony, which was roughly £2000 pounds a ticket. After that absurdness, we made our way back to his place, and after chilling for a little bit, we made our way to the supposedly famous Hampstead Creperie. And hot damn, it was delicious. Banana and Nutella crepe. Damn, I am making myself hungry again. Good thing I have a freezer stocked full of chicken goujons at all times.  

Sunday

Sunday started with me getting an e-mail from my site director telling me to call the police and see if I could potentially get on my Ryanair flight scheduled for 3PM that day. I headed down to Gatwick (a 3 and a half hour round-trip adventure) all for naught. This is an example of not listenign to other people's advice with losing a passport. Regardless of you having a photocopy of it, they still won't let you on the plane. 

Once I got back to Hampstead, Paul and I walked his poodle Tiger, around the very large Hampstead Heath park, which took two or some odd hours. And that was pretty much, the extent of Sunday.

Monday

Monday morning was another early morning. I had an appointment at the American embassy at 7:30AM, and so that required another 5:30 wake-up call. After quite a bit of bitching, Paul took me to Grosvenor Square. It was a painful 3 odd some hours to get my passport, and they didn't let you take in any electronics. So it was me and Mr. Hunter S. Thompson for the duration. However, I finished Fear and Loathing pretty early in, so my wait was not much fun. 

om nom nom nom nom

After finally acquiring an emergency passport, Paul and I walked around London. I hadn't had breakfast, so I twisted his arm until we stopped at a Pret where I grabbed a chicken wrap. Which Paul didn't really approve of for breakfast, but whatever. 

We made our way in and out of stores, down Carnaby Street and eventually hit this bakery called Choccywockydoodah. This bakery does incredible cakes and had it's own TV show...so you know it's crazy cool. They also have a cafe upstairs, and so Paul and I got two pieces of chocolate cake, which might give us both diabetes...but they were so damned good. 

After that, we made our way to the South Bank of the Thames. We wandered into a huge arcade for a little bit, and eventually made our way past the London Eye. In front of it, however, there were a couple of people in orange polos taking pictures of people. They worked for EDF, an electric energy company in the UK. As a part of their energy campaign, they were taking pictures of people behind this polaroid-looking frame. Then they lured you down to their Mission Control, which was a platform on the Thames in front of the London Eye. There, they showed you your picture on a large TV screen and had another screen dedicated to tweets about the Olympics from around the area. There, they explained that if we came back at 9PM, we could control the lights on the London Eye...so we had our plans for the night. 

Then, we walked to the Tube station and went to Camden Town. Which is a series of alternative market places selling the shit that I find pretty cool. I saw my Gameboy iPhone case a bunch, for example. Paul also took me into this store called Cyberdog....I have no words to describe that store. People kept on saying it is like no store you have ever been in and that is most definitely true. 

Me controlling the lights on the London Eye

We went back to his, so I could take a nap...it had been a really long day already. And then we went back into down to control the lights on the London Eye. We got down to Mission Control and saw the lights show, which two MIT guys had created. While we were waiting, Paul and I talked with a girl and her mother, who were originally from London and moved to Abu Dhabi. After that, Paul and I and various others got to play with it. There was an XBox Kinect hooked up to the lights, so our arms control it, and it was an incredible feeling, very empowering. We, then, went back to Hampstead and grabbed a very late Italian dinner, which was delicious, and then passed our nearly the second we got back.

Tuesday

This morning was great...I slept in, didn't really have to do anything. It was grand. I ate my left over Choccywockydoodah cake for breakfast, and Paul and I went to his local pub for really yummy fish and chips. The Guinness wasn't as good, though. Seriously, don't get Guinness outside Ireland. It's just not good. 

Deutschland ist am besten.

We went back to his place to make Germany cupcakes for an Olympics dinner party that he was going to. Naomi came over again, and Paul put on lederhosen. And that was pretty much the extent of my Tuesday before I had to leave for the airport. 

---

All in all, despite the stress of having lost my passport, it has been a great weekend. Got to experience a whole slew of different things, and that was pretty neat. Even if London did kick my butt. 

London Calling

So, no onesie this time, because I am in the Dublin airport. Lame, I know, right. I'm a little upset too. Anyways, I am on my way to London for the Olympicssssss. I am pretty damn excited. In other news, I tried the cheddar cheese bites from Burger King. I am disappointed. I am fairly certain that is not real cheese. My Wisconsin soul aches a little thinking about it. That's about all I have to report.

BATMAN

Again, as I write this post, I am in a Batman onesie. Mostly because I am so excited about having seen The Dark Knight Rises this evening. I won't say anything about it, other than it's totally awesome, and you should go see it. I wouldn't want to wreck it for anyone like my little brother kind of did to me. (I still can't believe you told me that, Billy. Playing with my emotions!) 

Anyways, that about all I have to say about today. I'll leave you with this lovely picture, though.



PS Although this should have been the heading. My heart goes out to all the family's of the victims of the Aurora, Colorado shooting. For lack of my own words, here's an Irish blessing that everyone in that theater, their friends and family all deserve: 

May your troubles be less,

And your blessing be more.

And nothing but happiness,

Come through your door.

"I'm a Barry Goldwater Republican"

Today wasn't too terribly eventful. It was roughly 70°F...heatwave, watch out. But actually, it did feel really friggn hot. Beyond that, today was nothing to special, but I did have a funny conversation that I thought it might be fun to share. 

After work, I stopped on O'Connell Bridge, to get an American flag bandanna from one of the vendors, so I would have some American swag to wear for the Olympics this weekend. This same guy is always on O'Connell Bridge, he's basically built into the Dublin landscape. So I stopped, expected to give him my  €5, grab my two bandanna's, and be on my merry way. 

However, for some reason, this guy, an American, as it turned out, decided to ask me if I supported Obama. I talked to him for a little bit, told him yes, and eventually, told him that I was a liberal. His response: "well, nobody's perfect." He then proceeded to explain to me that his entire family was a group of conservative Republicans. "Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan Republicans," he said. 

At that point, I did all I could not to laugh. I only had the mental image of Doc Wend exclaiming, "Barry Goldwater! In your heart, you know he's right. In your gut, you know he's nuts" immediately after he told us that Barry Goldwater wanted to put a nuke in the men's room in the Kremlin. This guy then proceeded to tell me how he voted for Obama in 2008, because he thought Sarah Palin was crazy. "Although, she would probably be a nice neighbor or something." And he's planning on voting for Obama again this year, because he hates Romney. Oh, and he hates George W. Bush pretty strongly as well. ("I'm sorry, but if I had the chance, I would shoot him dead."...He didn't really like the Iraq War.) Such colourful people here.

Other than that, I just watched The Newsroom for quite a while (and you should watch it too...so good!). I am still not caught up yet, but that will happen soon. It was actually quite a coincidental parallel, that I met a Republican criticizing the tea-party hijacked GOP the same day that I watched episode 3 of The Newsroom.

So that was my day. Nothing eventful, but hopefully an amusing story. 

The Las Vegas of Ireland

prime cliff sitting

So it's roughly 11:30PM here, and I just returned from my weekend in Galway, and it was a blast and a half. To start from the beginning: 

Allison and I went to the Counter after work on Friday. It was a weird day at work, as both Nicole and Chloe weren't there, but the Counter's burgers and cosmos made everything better. So I was in a happy place by the time we got on the train at Heuston Station. 

The train ride's scenery was pretty familiar, seeing as I had only been there a couple of days (or hours, really) before. We left at 7:15 and got into Galway close to 10. Luckily our hostel, Snoozles, was less than a 5 minute walk from the train station. When we got there, the staff was super helpful. Since I had booked separately from Megan and Kari, I was put in a different room, but they called one of the guys, John, in Megan and Kari's room and convinced him to switch. When we got up to the room, there were two guys inside, John and Marcel. John was a large 250 or 300lb IT geek who also played guitar in the park at night for cash. Marcel was a Chinese student, studying in France. Once we got in the room, we had a very interesting conversation with John, whereby he told us that someone is robbing Ulster Bank from the inside, showed us some battery thing that he brought, and then informed me that I wouldn't be able to fit in a seat on my Ryanair flight. He really knows how to make friends, that one. 

After he left the room, Megan, Kari, and I started to get ready to go out. Marcel wasn't interesting, saying that he had class the next day. We thought that was kind of odd, given the next day was Saturday, but we just kind of shrugged it off. We left the hostel at around 11, and after wandering around Galway's small city centre for a little bit and accumulating a wrist full of stamps for clubs, wandered into a night club called Carbon. When we got there, there was no one there, but we decided to stick it out and ultimately had a pretty fun night. We got back kind of late and Marcel was asleep. However, the other two guys in our room had not shown up yet. 

The next day, we woke up early to head out on our Aran Islands tour. We got up at 8:30 and started talking, which seemed to tick off the other two guys in our room. They had gotten in late, and kept Kari all night with their drunken snoring. None of us really hit it off with them. 

We hurried out of the hostel to meet up with Michael Faherty, the man giving us the tour of the Aran Islands, at the bus station. After paying him, we got on the small bus to take us to Ros a' Mhíl where the ferries depart from. The entire ride, there was a never-ending loop of popular Irish songs, including the Belle of Belfast City, the Wild Rover, and the Rocky Road to Dublin. We drove through Connemara again, which was always cool to see again. After about 45 minutes of driving, we made it to Ros a' Mhíl. And while we were waiting for the ferry, who do we see...Marcel. "I thought you had class," Kari said to him, "but we thought it was weird, since it was a Saturday." His response? "Yeah...I should have thought of that." 

We hopped on the ferry and got to Inis Mór, the largest of the three Aran Islands, in an hour and half. Inis Mór is home to 824 people. All these people speak Irish, and the main industries on the island are fishing, farming, and tourism. They have their own Aran culture, which they seem determined to preserve. There is only one bank, an Irish bank that's probably 30 sqft (a generous estimate) and opens only 2 days a week.The landscape is very similar to Connemara, tons of rocks, rock fences intertangling throughout the landscape. There are cows everywhere, a few sheep, but not as many as you would expect. Needless to say, it's on par with Connemara for being a whole different world, if not moreso. 

sealzzzzz

Michael Faherty started our touring by driving our bus (like a champ) through the tiny Aran roads, to the seal colony. Sidenote: driving on Inis Mór is insane. The roads are only big enough for one car, but it's a two way street. Instead of passing someone on the side, one person has to back up to an intersection or pull off and let the other person pass. Anyways, we got to see the seals, and then we drove to a small intersection with tourist shops. He dropped us off and told us to go and see Dun Aoghasa, a fort on top of a 300 ft cliff. 

After getting lunch at a small cafe, we made our way to the fort. At the fort, it's absolutely incredible. You can sit right on the end of the 300 ft. cliff. It's an indescribable feeling, terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Perhaps the most terrifying part is that, when you are sitting with your legs dangling on the edge of that cliff, you have an impulse to jump, which led to an interesting discussion about human nature between Megan, Kari, and myself. Once we finished our cliff-sitting, we made friends with a small dog running around named Yogi. He was thirsty, so we gave him some water. His owner showed us a bunch of Yogi's tricks, and I feel pretty confident in saying that Yogi is the best dog. 

At 1:45, we started making our way back to the four way intersection with shops to meet up with our tour guide. We were supposed to meet him at a beach, so instead of getting on the bus once we got there, Megan and I decided to take off our shoes and wade into the water a little bit. Afterwards, Mr. Faherty took us around the island. We drove by famine houses, where he told us all about Cromwell's lovely atrocities, such as evicting whole families from their already tiny houses and putting them on the streets. And how before the famine there were 2,500 people living on Inis Mór (and now there are 824...). We then made our way to the Seven Churches, the ruins of ancient churches. Mr. Cromwell, of course, burned the roofs off them, which is why they are simply stone ruins today. 

Ralph

We then made our way out to the last fishing village on Inis Mór on the most westward part of the island. There, Megan, Kari, and I got off the bus and tried to make friends with a seal who was kind of close to shore. We named him Ralph. So many animal friends! At 3:30, we finished our tour and arrived back in Kilronan, the main village on the island, where the ships depart from. We had an hour, so as per our usual, we ate, going to a cafe and getting some okay seafood chowder (the stuff I had in Carna will always be the best). 

We took a 4:30 ferry back, got back to our hostel around 6:30, and took a nap. The guys (we later learned their names were Eric and Cormac) were there and trying to recover from their wild night out the previous night. They were a little bit nicer to us this time, but Cormac still insisted upon smoking in the room, so that was less than pleasant. Eric ended up being pretty nice though. Kari had left to go downstairs to change rooms so that she could actually sleep, and Megan was still passed out. But him, Marcel, and I had a nice discussion about China, politics, and other things. 

Eventually, Megan, Kari, and I made it out of the hostel. We met up with Evan and Allison at the King's Head very briefly before we needed to go and find food. We ended up in an Italian restaurant across from the Quay's. The food was delicious. I wish I had taken pictures. Bruschetta and pasta...nomz. Sorry if I am making you hungry. I am making myself hungry if it's any consolation. After dinner, we walked over to the Quays. It looked like a hoppin' place, and we had stamps to get in without cover before 11:30. As we were all very tired, we didn't stay very long, but I am sure it would be great craic if we were in the mood for being out. When we got back to the hostel, we were shocked to see not only Marcel (which was expected) but also Cormac back asleep, given his stories of his Friday night. Kari was right about his snoring, though. It was quite loud, but I managed to fall asleep anyways, because clearly I am a champ. 

This morning, we woke up early again, and this morning, we actually kind of got along with Eric and Cormac. Eric started playing his guitar, and we chatted about living in Dublin. After we checked out of Snoozles, we went to Ceannt Station to catch a bus to the Cliffs of Moher. 

It's a two hour ride to the Cliffs via bus, which you don't really expect, given how clearly you can see them from various parts of Galway, Connemara, and the Aran Islands. But it's a lot of winding roads, hills, and such. It's also super incredible. The landscape Co. Clare (the area you have to go through to get to the Cliffs) is super beautiful. I compulsively took pictures of it, while everyone else slept. 

Finally, we got to the Cliffs, and they were great. Technically, we aren't supposed to go past this plaster fence, because too many people have died walking the cliffs, but everyone ignores that and just jumps it anyway, and it's totally worth it. The views you get on the other side of the fence are incredible. I have no words. Also, fun fact, the cave scene in Harry Potter 6 (you know when Harry and Dumbledore go into the cave to find the horcrux), yeah shot at the Cliffs of Moher. Megan and I freaked out a little when we found out, and I know have a new thing to add to my bucket list: explore the Cliffs of Moher Caves. 

Harry Potter cave

At 2:30, we had to take a bus back to ensure we made our 6:05 train, and since, we had an hour and a half, Megan, Kari, and I went to, you guessed it, get more food. We stopped in a different, not as good Italian place, but it was still a yummy meal. We made it to our train with about ten minutes to spare. And lucky us, we got the car with obnoxious teenagers on it. Now I know I am an obnoxious teenager, but it's still mind-boggling to me that I was closer to these kids' ages than I am to Megan and Kari. This group of guys, who seemed to have just come from a Gaelic football match given that they smelled like Billy after a basketball game, were hopelessly trying to flirt with a group of girls that were sitting behind us, which got old quite quick. To try and ignore them, I immersed myself in Hunter S. Thompson's Las Vegas drug-binge. We were almost to the station when the ride got slightly more exciting. Just before we got to Heuston, there was just some bro, presumably drunk, chilling on the train track area. Not like suicidal or anything, just drunk and lost. The guards promptly got off the train and walked him off the tracks, and one of the younger girls that the Gaelic football guys were trying to flirt with sighed, claiming "only in Ireland." Final fun thing about the train ride, after we got off, the group of guys were gathered around a part of the train. A sticker on it said "isolated cock box." (Hehe, cock...you know you are giggling a little bit.) 

So that was my weekend. I already sent out a Facebook message to my friends at Tufts who want to study abroad, but I am serious about us going to Galway one weekend when we are all studying abroad. Because that would be so much more than a blast and a half.