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. 

Connemara: Galway the Prequel (Otherwise Known as Family Time)

Yesterday, I decided to tag along on the first leg of my aunt and uncle's journey around Ireland. Their first stop was Galway, which was the last have-to-go-here place in Ireland for me. Connacht was also my last of the four Irish provinces. So now, I can feel accomplished. 


The day started a little later than usual, I could wake up at 8:30 instead of my usual 7:30 for work, which was a nice little treat. I met Deener and Kellea up at the rental car part of the airport, and after the usual amount of floundering, we got on the road at around 10:40. The scenery along the way was beautiful, as to be expected with Ireland. Green hills, even some ruins of castles right along the highway. All pretty standard.


 We got to Galway City around 1, but instead of getting out we went straight on to Connemara. Connemara is the region west of Galway City in Co Galway. When Oliver Cromwell came into Ireland and banished the people off their fertile, green land, he told them, "To Hell or Connacht!"  Connacht is the least fertile province in Ireland, and when you look at Connemara, you see it. It is beautiful, but in a harsh way. There are very few trees. The ground is not the emerald green that you are used to, but instead full of rocks, boulders, and a manner of other things. There are real mountains there, instead of the typical Irish hills and many, many lakes and inlets. It's quite remarkable. 


In Connemara, there are  bunches of houses with yards designated by either knee or waist high dry stone wall fences. One could argue that most of the houses look like little cottages. In the yards, sometimes there are cows, horses, or sheep. None of the yards are very flat and the fences are by no means straight. 


Connemara is also the largest Gaeltacht (Gaelic-speaking area) in Ireland. Almost all the street signs have no English translations. This is quite different from Dublin. In Ireland, it is mandatory that all the street signs are in Gaelic as well as English. In Dublin, it seems like it is a forced effort to put them into Gaelic, with English being everywhere and the Gaelic translations under it. In Connemara, it's the real deal. So while some people, if they only come to Dublin, may think that the Gaelic language is dead or dying, they clearly haven't spent very much time out west. It's quite alive and thriving there. 


Needless to say, it's a whole different world out there.

The Rest of Ireland v. Connacht

After getting out of Galway City, we made our way along the coast. We ventured into Spiddle, which was a cute coastal town with some B&B's, pubs, and a grocery store along a small main street. However, before long, Spiddle seemed quite metropolitan. Connemara had a funny way of turning completely isolated. We had only been driving for a half hour, but we felt like there were no people around, only these small houses and their livestock. We went through Inverin, which hardly even seemed like a town. Pulled back inward and then made our way to Carna, kind of sort of a halfway point between Clifden and Galway, not really. 


By the time we finally got to Carna, we were starving. It was 2:30PM and none of us had eaten since 9AM. So we stopped at the first pub we could find. It was called Tigh Mheaic, and was on an otherwise uninhabited road in the middle of nowhere close to Carna. And from what I gather Carna is a fishing village with a collection of a few houses closer together than normal and a small hotel. Outside the Tigh Mheaic promises "Ceol agus Craic" (Music and Fun), and inside, it looked very interesting. There was a deer head mounted on the wall, even though I am pretty certain there weren't any deer for miles. The normally wood-burning fire place was burning peat bricks on account of the lack of wood in Connemara. There was also a Chicago license plate that said "Michigan Avenue" on it and played American country music. On top of all of that, they were selling t-shirts, which seemed odd. I can't imagine that there were many tourists out that way. 

Our waitress came up to us, and I was surprised by her accent. It wasn't thick and incomprehensible, which I was expecting given the guys at the bar, who may or may not have been speaking Gaelic. I really have no idea. Anyways, I ordered fried cod and chip, and Deener and Kellea split the Haddock and chips. We also ordered a bowl of seafood chowder and three Smithwicks to tide us over before our food came. When the seafood chowder came, I was in heaven. It was the best seafood chowder I have ever had. Similarly, the fish and chips were beautiful. I am pretty sure they went out to catch the fish after we ordered, as it did take quite a while to get our food. But it was so delicious I didn't really care (and the Smithwicks was a good appetizer). 


After we left the pub, we continued on our merry way. It was about 4:30 and I had to be at the bus station by 7 to catch the bus back to Dublin. So we continued to make our way up the western coast. And everything was so beautiful. At one point, we encountered a waterfall just along the side of the road. Next to it, some sheep were just chilling. Not long after that, we nearly ran over some sheep who were just chilling on the side of the road. I asked Deener and Kellea if I could get out and pet them, but there wasn't any place for us to pull over. Finally, we found a beautiful spot to pull off. It was right by a church, but the church was literally the only thing in the area. Otherwise, it was just a river with a few trees and beautiful mountains in the background. It was one of the most breathtaking things I have seen since I have been here. 


After stopping at the church, we started to make our way back towards Galway city to ensure that I caught my bus. I got there quite a bit early, so I got some Subway, and when I got back to the bus stop, I started talking with an American girl who was an au pair in Loughrea, a small town about 30 minutes outside Galway City. She had just graduated from BYU Idaho and was spending the year in Ireland. She told me some pretty interesting things. For example, the sweaters on the Aran Islands. Every family has their own unique sweater pattern, which they are super proud of. It would be cool, but they do that so that they can identify a battered corpse after a rough day out at sea. Pretty morbid.


After that happy note, this is where I shall leave you. Tomorrow, I am heading back out westward with Kari and Megan, to Galway for the weekend. I am quite excited. On Saturday, we are going to see the Aran Islands, which are supposed to be incredible. 

There's Poetry in a Pint of Guinness

Before I start recounting my adventures at the Guinness Factory yesterday, I would just like to tell everyone that as I write this blog post, I am wearing a Batman onesie. So now that everyone has that mental image, I shall recount the rest of my weekend. 

Yesterday, after sleeping in, Paul and I met up with Kari, Brianne, and Kari's friend Kinaree at the Guinness Factory. When we got there, we still had to wait for Brianne, though. So we went to a pub and drank a Guinness at 3:00PM. Like champs. Once, we did meet up with Bri, we made our way down an alley towards an entrance to the museum. 

Now, when they call the Guinness Storehouse museum an experience, they mean it. The creators of the museum put a lot of stock in design. It's very modern with dim, strategic lighting, glass everywhere. The whole sha-bang. After you pay and get your tickets, you go up an escalator to a huge main lobby type thing. In the floor is the Guinness least, which is perhaps the most famous brewery lease in history. This main lobby is designed to be shaped like a Guinness glass. It's a self-guided tour, and you start at the ground level with the ingredients. First, you go to the barley, where there is a huge pit full of the stuff. Hence, my profile picture on Facebook. Paul was throwing barley at me. You then make your way to the hops, where they have hops growing in huge glass encasements that run up the wall. Then the water, where there is a small waterfall. 

Next you go up a flight of stairs to see the machinery and learn about the way that they brew the beer. There are videos alongside really old machines, with a sign saying that the machines were from a different time, when machines were works of art. Afterwards, you walk up another flight of stairs and receive a free quarter pint of Guinness. Then, you get out into the more open area, with natural sunlight. 

Then, you work your way up through the levels via a series of snaking escalators with each floor having a different thing. My favorite and the place that I spent the most time at was the Guinness advertisements. They have a bunch of Guinness memorabilia and a computer screen with head phones where you can watch every Guinness ad ever. I think this one was my favorite. 

Anyways, we finally made our way up to the 360° bar called the Gravity Bar. Which is absolutely incredible. You can see the entirety of Dublin from it and even the Wicklow Mountains as well. Really beautiful. 

After we drank our free pint of Guinness, which took a really long time because of all the Guinness we had drank yesterday, we made our way downstairs to the gift shop and then finally left. The entire thing had taken 3 or so hours, but it was totally worth it. Definitely a must see if you are in Dublin, but I am sure that you already knew that. 

By the time we got back to the apartment last night, we were about ready to pass out. So we took a nap, and just as it seemed like we were going to stay in, we decided to get up and at 'em and go out. Or at least, Kari, Kinaree, and I did. Paul decided to stay in. So we took one of the last buses in and made our way over to Wexford St to the Village. On our way, we took a detour to Dandelion for what we thought would be cheap drinks. Jokes, they double their prices on Saturday night. That was a fun little surprise. We finally got to the Village and after a few hitches, we got in. I had never been there before and it was a really interesting place to walk through. All sorts of different rooms and what not. At times, it was like walking through a maze. All in all, it was a really fun night. 

We slept in again this morning, and then Paul and I went into town to see Spiderman. I was quite happy with it. I mean superheroes and Andrew Garfield? I am a happy camper. :D We then decided to go shopping, and that was when we found the Batman onesie in Penneys. 

So that leaves me at the apartment, chilling in my onesie. Life is pretty awesome right now.

Walking Along the Wicklow Coast

Not my Irish breakfast, but you get the idea

Yesterday, since it was Paul's first full day in Ireland, I called in sick to work, and Paul and I went to Wicklow. After multiple hitches (I forgot quite literally everything while we were leaving), we made to Connolly Station. However, the train to Rosslare Europort only comes very infrequently. So by the time we got our tickets, we had to wait two and a half hours. So we left the train station and went to a Madigan's, a pub near O'Connell Street for some Irish breakfast. When we got in there at 11:30, it was completely deserted. We ate our breakfasts (mine a mini Irish breakfast--I even tried black and white pudding and they were pretty good--and Paul's a vegetarian breakfast, but he gave me all the mushrooms) and chatted a little with our waiter. However, by noon, the place was packed with a mix of tourists and locals. Apparently, they can't start serving alcohol until 12:30, but they disregard that and start at noon. Everyone in the pub had a beer or Irish coffee (Paul says that's a real Irish breakfast) by that point. Paul was judging them. 

We wandered for a little while after that, and made it back to the train station twenty minutes early. The train down to Rosslare Europort is really beautiful. It heads along the eastern seaboard right along the Irish sea, passing through Greystones and Bray (where I did the cliff walk almost a month ago)  before making its way into the mountainous Co. Wicklow. 

Once we got there, it was raining like crazy (I am talking winds and rain coming in at a 45° angle crazy). We walked along this river nature trail and got soaked pretty quickly. Along the metal bridge on the trail (not very nature-y), there was a bunch of graffiti that went something along the lines of "YES YES YES YES YES DISBAND THE IRA NO" or it read backwards if you came at it from the other way. At the end of the trail, we found a beach with smooth rocks along the coast. We walked along it for a little bit, and then decided to head into the town (Paul insists that Wicklow is a village). 

Once we got into the centre of town, we went into a pharmacy so that Paul could get a plastic old lady hood, which we later found out is called a rain bonnet. He looked absurd, and the teenagers in Wicklow looked at him funny. We walked through the rest of the town and came to the statue that Jackie had told me about. It was dedicated to the rebels of Wicklow who fought against the English. I found Jackie's ancestor Billy Byrne on it and everything (who was on it for leading the Wicklow United Irishmen in the 1798 Rebellion). Paul wasn't amused by the antics of the Irish and started his typical spiel about how the English are going to recolonize the Irish and the Americans. 

We wandered to the Wicklow Gaol for a little bit, but decided against going in because it cost €6 to tour it. Then we made our way to Wicklow's port and coastline area. We started by checking out the cannons all along the coast line. They were pointed towards France and intended to disuade the French from getting any funny ideas and trying to invade. They were never fired in a battle or anything. 

Afterwards, we walked to the ruins of Blackrock Castle. This was a castle owned by the English Fitzgerald family. It was usually under attack by the O'Byrnes and the O'Tooles until it got burned down in the 1600s. The wreckage remains there and people just kind of wander through it to check it out. You can tell it wasn't a huge castle. It was built right along the ocean on a small cliff. The only thing that really remains is a couple of walls. There's a little graffiti on it (something about disbanding the IRA again), but nothing too bad. There's a break in a 6 foot-tall section of the wall where you can go through and stand along the rocky cliff part of it. With the winds and rain, it was a little dangerous, but we stepped out a little bit anyway, just to take a picture or two. 

Then we made our way over to the lighthouse to find a geocache that Paul had found on his phone. After a little searching (most on his part, I went out to explore the lighthouse), we found it, and went to some shelter to sign our names onto it. 

From there, we went along the cliffs again and made our way to a small inlet in between the cliffs. There were stairs, so we were able to get to the small beach. The waves were really high with the wind and such but we stuck our feet in anyway. It was super cold, but now I have walked in the Irish sea. We walked along the rest of the coast afterwards. My feet got super soaked because I was only wearing trainers and I am really good at always unintentionally walking into deep puddles.  Not far from Blackrock Castle, there's a golf course, so we trespassed on that a little bit to walk on some boulders that are only sort of attached to the cliffs. 

Afterwards, we decided to head back to the town. I had cut my hand, and we had two hours until our train came (although I thought I may had misread it, that was it's own little fiasco). We wandered around a large church that overlooks Wicklow and then stopped for a pint to get out of the rain. We then went to Tesco to pick up some things for dinner. 

Eventually we got on a train back, and it took us a good hour to get into Dublin City. It seemed like longer what with the cold and the wet socks and everything. We got back around 9:30, and instead of going to sleep, we decided to go out with my flatmates for a little while but came home a little early. 

And now today, we slept in (for the first time since I can remember), and Paul made the food that we had intended upon having for dinner last night. Sweet and sour fake chicken (imposing his kosher-ness on me) whole-grain rice, and vegetables. It was quite delicious. Now I believe we are going to wander around Dublin and go to the Guinness Factory, which I can't believe I hadn't visited yet. 

Potatoes, Top of the Mornin' to Ya, and Other Adventures with Paul

Today was an odd day at work. None of our bosses were there, and there really wasn't very much to do. Therefore, we all had a very in-depth discussion on sexuality, race, globalisation, and literally anything else you can think of. Then I stumbled...a lot. I found a good Huffington Post page on grilling anything safely and really neat Marvel Minimalist Posters (superheroes!). 


After work, Nicole (another one of my fellow interns) and I went to a book store across from Trinity. So many Irish history books. I was in Irish history heaven. I got one on the Troubles (shocker) and then I found Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, so I finally purchased that too. We went to Starbucks afterwards and read for a little bit, until I had to go meet Paul at the Spire. 


However, instead of taking the 16 into City Centre like a normal person, he decided to take the Airlink bus and was an hour late. So I stood next to the Spire reading Fear and Loathing for a half hour until I decided to walk around Henry St. for a little bit and wander into Mark and Spencers. I bought raspberries and salad, because today at lunch, I found that raspberries on salad is delicious. Paul has told me that that's crazy, but that's OK. 


Once he finally arrived, we took a bus back to my apartment. When Paul met my housemate Kari, after introducing himself, he promptly called her an imbecile because she was watching Geordie Shore (the English, apparently worse, version of Jersey Shore). Always making good introductions, that one. 


We went to Wagamama for dinner, asked for a kids menu with crayons, and became friends with our waitress. After staying there for much longer than we needed to, we went to the Porterhouse for 2€ off drinks. We then went to various traditional Irish music pubs (at one the singer told Paul he screamed like a girl), but I wanted to go back early, because I am so tired (when I am tired, I am a worthless human being). So now we're back in Shanowen, and Paul is calling me lame, but that's pretty standard fare.

I Don't Always Enjoy Work, But When I Do, We Get A Tasty Lunch

Typically when I post about events during my work week, it's the usual stuff: our game of phone tag with the Halo Munchies people, me going on CNN to memorize the number of electoral votes for each state, etc. But today was not your typical day at work, and while you may find this boring, it was the most interesting day at work yet. 


When I got to work, a different one of my bosses (I have three) was there to let all of us in, and when I asked where my usual in-office boss was, I was just brushed off. I later found out that my in-office boss is leaving WTCD. Sad face. Why are all the managers at my jobs leaving? 

Hibachiiii

For lunch, all 6 interns and our visiting WTC DC employee went out to a hibachi place on Lower Baggot Street. Teriyaki beef, fried rice, potatoes (because apparently in Ireland, you have potatoes with hibachi). Nomzzzzz. When I got back to the office, I wanted to go into a food coma. 


After work, I went back to my apartment to change before going to Captain America, which is basically a glorified Hardrock Cafe. But they had 3€ drinks, which is wonderful and all I can ask for from a restaurant. 


Then, a group of my co-workers, my flatmates, and I went to see Magic Mike, as tonight was the opening night in Ireland. And it was awful. I mean, seeing Channing Tatum without a shirt is not something to complain about. But I was hoping that the dialogue would be a little more than a collection of 4 to 5 word sentences. But it's a movie about male strippers, I guess I shouldn't have had any expectations going in. 


So that was my day today. Paul is flying in tomorrow, so interesting adventures shall ensue.

Musings on my Monday

This post is going to be short, mainly for the reason that I have very little to report. (And no the rest of this post will not be rhyming.) They replenished our candy basket today, thus ending our long game of phone tag with the Halo Munchies people. We've already eaten half of the candy, all of the good stuff really. Mostly what's left are the gross crisps. 

Other than that, I went grocery shopping for the first time in what seems like weeks. And let me say, grocery shopping here is comparable to Christmas or something. I got sweet chili salmon for dinner, and I was so excited walking home. 

Currently, my flatmates and I are making chicken goujons and preparing to watch Love in the Wild (we are behind!). However, Kristen won't come out of her room. Sad face. So we are trying to be as loud as possible to coax her out. The idea of invading her room is still on the table. 

So, yeah, that's my Monday...

I'm Handing You No Blarney [On My Munster Adventures]

My housemates, one of my co-workers (Allison), a friend of one of my housemates, and I spent the weekend in Cork. And it was fantastic. 

Friday was even good, considering that normally Fridays consist of my co-workers and I being super unproductive and counting down the minutes until 4. However, during work on Friday, Paul and I purchased tickets to go see an Olympic volleyball game while I am in London. I got so excited that I danced around the office a bit, sent my mother an e-mail in all caps, and Facebook messaged Mr. Wilson. (And there, Paul, you are in my blog. You happy now?) After work, Allison and I went to the Counter (the really good burger place with the cosmos) and met up with Kristen before heading over to Heuston to catch our 7 o'clock train. 

Our train took about 3 hours, and when we got to Cork, we realized we had no idea where our hostel was. Typical when travelling with us, though. We can't have everything go according to plan. We didn't get hopelessly lost, fortunately. A man at the train station directed us initially, and then we found signs guiding us the rest of the way there. 

Shelia's Hostel is one part of a long brick building, with blue lights on the outside. It's clean enough, although the rooms are a little cramped and have red iron bunk beds which look like they belong in a LEGO house. But really, it could have been a lot worse. 

Everyone decided to wander around Cork for a little while except Kristen and Brianne who wanted to get to bed early. So after we settled in we set out. Just as we were leaving the hostel, we were greeted by a couple of very drunk Welshmen, one of whom was wearing a leopard-skin-print body suit. Anyways, the first order of business was food, as is our usual. We found a place called Hillbilly's, which claims they serve southern-style chicken. I'm not really sure if it was southern-style or not, but it was delicious. We then wandered to City Centre and walked along St. Patrick's Street, Grand Parade, and Merchant's Quay before heading back to Shelia's.

The next day we got up early to try and get a spot on the Paddywagon tour bus to Blarney, Cobh, and Kinsalle. That didn't really work out, so instead, we just took a bus to Blarney. It was about a half hour ride, but the scenery was pretty. A nice change of pace from Dublin. When we arrived at Blarney, we immediately went towards the castle. Blarney Castle is a really cool building. It's not particularly extravagant. I mean, in those times, it was a huge house, (and today it is still a huge place) but it's not as if we are looking at Versailles or anything. In any case, we wound our way up to the very top of it to go and kiss the Blarney Stone, which I guess gives you the eloquence to "clamber up to a lady's chamber, or be a member of Parliament." Well, thank God, I can now clamber up to a lady's chamber. 

After the castle, we wandered around the grounds (this place is huge), and made our way over for a tour of Blarney House. Fun facts about the Blarney House. The Blarney House is actually still lived in my the Colthurst family, which the family that started living there in the 1700s (I think) after they kicked the McCarthy's off there land. The house is absolutely gorgeous, but I couldn't help resent the Colthurst family by acquiring it in such bloody imperialist means, but I think I was the only one who felt that way. All the other girls marveled at the the pretty shiny things. 

We then stopped at the Stable Yard Cafe to grab some food (always eating, always), and wandered to the lake just beyond the house. It was super beautiful, but most of the girls I was with didn't really have the shoes for going on an extended walk, so we didn't stay too long. On our way back, we made friends with a pair of really cute horses and feed them some grass. 

Our last stop before we went back to Cork was the Blarney Woolen Mills, where I got sweaters for my mom, Nana, and myself as well as a few other things. I shipped them back to the US, because there was no way in hell I would have enough room for them. They are so cozy; I am kind excited for it to be winter, just so I can wear mine. 

Horsey friend

Then, we went back to Cork, and when we got to our hostel, we found we had a new person in our room, a French-Canadian girl named Alex. Her English wasn't very good, and so when she didn't understand a question I asked, I asked it to her in French, and she told me my French was good. I am quite proud. Anyways, we napped for a little while and after, we all were motivated by hunger to get ourselves ready to go out. We stopped for dinner in a pub on a side street off St. Patrick. I have no idea what it was called, but it was really good. It had a good atmosphere for watching sports in and that kind of thing. Our waiter was a really nice guy, but I sure that was mostly because we were a group of American girls (and our French Canadian). 

After our meal, we wandered around lost for a little bit, before finding  An Brog, a pub off Oliver Plunkett St. When we got in there, a very drunk guy came up to us at the bar, started singing, dancing, and doing some weird thing with his hand where he would put the face of his palm over his mouth and wave his fingers at us. So we moved to the other side of the bar. 

After a little while of talking, we left to go somewhere else. Eventually we ended up at a place called The Long Island, which was interesting. Lo and behold, who do we encounter, but the drunk Welshmen, who were getting pretty drunk. We found out that it was the guy in the leopard-skin-print body suit's stag party. So we spent the night there talking to them. 

Allison and I decided to go back early, because we were tired. The rest of the group, including the Welshmen came with us, and stopped at a pizza by the slice place. Inside, a guy who was not with the stag party started talking to us, and asked us where we were from. I said my usual "outside Chicago" just because it is easier than saying Wisconsin. He then started asking me where outside Chicago, and I replied Wisconsin. He started giving me shit, being like, what are you saying outside Chicago, that's a whole different state, swing state and what have you. We started talking about American politics outside the pizza shop while everyone ate their pizzas. It was pretty awesome. He knew a surprising amount about the recall, the Elizabeth Warren campaign, and what have you. He also told me how he met Hillary Clinton and nearly died with excitement. I love how much the Irish love the Clintons. :)

Anyways, after finishing our pizza, we walked back to the hostel and got to bed. Well, most of us, did anyway. Kari's friend seemed to have had an interesting night, but I won't get into that, because if I do, I will start ranting about how stupid some drunk American girls can be, and that just won't be nice. 

We woke up the next day to check out and then made our way over to Cobh (pronounced Cove and formerly known as Queenstown), but not before eating a yummy Irish breakfast. Cobh is a seaside, port town where many Irish went to emigrate to the States or Canada and what have you. It is a really beautiful town with all the harbour and everything. We spent most of our time there in the Heritage Centre going through the Titanic and Emigration Museum, which was pretty cool. Although, I am pretty sure that we were the youngest people in there.

We left for Cork at 3. After getting back, we walked around St. Patrick's Street for a little bit, went back to the hostel to pick up our stuff, and then got the 5:30 train back to Dublin Heuston. Long day of walking and travelling. And now I am back home doing my laundry (and potentially breaking one of the laundry machines...not my fault). I don't want to go to work tomorrow, but I guess that is part of being a real person. In any case, I am a lot to look forward to with these next couple of weekends, what with Paul visiting, Deener and Kellea visiting, going to London. and what have you.