Friday,
July 26, 2013 8:30 pm
 |
| On the way to Rosslare |
The end of my journey has finally come. Ireland is where it all began (for the few hours I was there) & where it ends. This time I get to enjoy the country's beauty for much
longer. At the conclusion of my all nighter on Wednesday morning, Hugo & I
enjoyed a nice breakfast before parting ways, he to Prague, Czech Republic
(quite jealous) & me to Cherbourg, France. The ferry ride was WONDERFUL
compared to the first one I went on in June. There was plenty of space in the
room of reserved seats to sleep on the floor, a shower, & peace & quiet. I
caught up on my much needed sleep thanks to the soothing back & forth rocking
of the ship.
Right
before we docked into Rosslare, Ireland, I decided to head to the west coast
to Galway for my first stop. Two nights in Galway, one night in Limerick,
one night in Cork, & the last 2 nights in Dublin are what await me although
Limerick might have to be skipped due to procrastination & lack of hostels
for tomorrow night. The train ride from Rosslare to Dublin was fantastic…we were squashed between the sea & high cliffs most of the way. Once I
made it to Dublin, I somehow managed to catch the next train to Galway within
the 2 minute time frame before it was to leave.
Even though I was only in this country for a little over a day, it made quite
an impression making me want to come back for a better taste. The Irish people have been
the nicest group of people I have met anywhere (even nicer than US Southerners!!). They’re always jovial, willing to help out, & have some kind of story to tell you. Ireland did not disappoint in my expectations as I gawked at the many sheep passing by my window.
 |
| Clouds. |
Galway is
a small college town that is probably as big as my neighborhood in Boston. It
is full of young people hanging out in the square, street performers, local
shops, & pubs…many, many pubs. I had to splurge & spend the money to
tour the Cliffs of Moher which was absolutely worth it. Des & Ray, father & son, were our tour guides/bus driver throughout the day. Des is the cutest, most charming, older Irishman you will ever meet.
Sunday,
July 28, 2013 1:42 pm
 |
| The Doolin Chocolate Shop |
I have
been trying to finish this blog post for the past 3 days, but it has been a
rollercoaster ride for me. Ok, from where I left off. One of our stops was in a small town called Doolin…if you ever happen to visit this place, you HAVE to go to The Doolin
Chocolate Shop & buy a raspberry white chocolate bar & chat up the
owner. One of the greatest things about this beautiful country is the Irish
folk. No matter who you are, what you want, they are always going to greet you
with a big smile & ask how your day is going. It reminds me quite a bit like
home in South Carolina…when we drive down the roads through our neighborhood, we wave to our neighbors or other drivers
whether we know them or not. When I moved to Boston, there was none of that to
my disappointment. On the trains, there is no talking to other people because
you would be considered weird otherwise. I remember when I first moved up to Boston how I
silently conspired to change all of that, one person at a time. But Boston got
to me, & I slowly started to turn into one of them. I have caught myself
MANY times going up to an Irish person to ask for help & immediately ask my
question instead of greet them. Everytime, before I start talking, they do
it first! It’s a nice reminder of what one of my many missions in Boston is.
Eventually I will get everyone saying y’all too (got one already!).
 |
| Cliffs of Moher |
 |
| Tempting the wind |
Back to my
story…the shop owner is an older lady who was sitting outside of her small business
people watching. As I made one of the hardest decisions of my life, which
delicious, beautiful chocolately chocolate do I buy, she was all smiles, so
happy to “talk to an American,” & asked about my life story as I finally settled on the raspberry bar. Lunch of champions. During the ride, Des mentioned a bar in Boston that used to be owned by an Irish guy who died, so his
brother took it over. That bar is The Druid, the same bar that my Starbucks
regular, John, & I have visited for the Tuesday Irish music nights & have plans to visit when I get back.
Small world!! We also stopped by an Irish pub where I drank my first Irish
coffee. I should have known better that an "Irish" coffee is not the same as
coffee coffee, but I quickly learned as I choked on the surprise whiskey. It made my cup o’ coffee much more enjoyable though.
 |
| My adopted family |
 |
| The Burren |
We made it
to The Burren as my cute tour guide gave us many laughs along the way,
took pictures of the stones, & then headed to the Cliffs. I haven’t seen
anything this beautiful in my entire life. The Burren is one of the largest karst-landscapes in Europe hosting the Poulnabrone dolmen, which was probably used as a ritual site through the Celtic period (courtesy of Wikipedia). The Cliffs of Moher are along the west coast & rise as high as 702 feet. Nine people have fallen to their deaths this year. As we got off the bus ready to tempt the wind into pushing us off, 4 Spaniards
on our tour adopted me. We made our way to the edge of the cliffs…the EDGE
edge on our bellies. Looking over the cliffs with the seagulls flying down
below, the waves crashing, thinking how much it would suck if I fell, was
perfect. The weather was perfect with the
fluffiest, brightest clouds you have ever seen & the sun reflecting against the water. Alfonso, Christian, Cristina, & I made our way to the
castle tower on one of the cliffs when of course a thunderstorm out of nowhere comes rolling in. The dark sky & rumbling thunder on one side was a great contrast to the beautiful blue on the other. Back to the bus we went.
 |
| Realizing I had a "pee" spot on my dress after sitting in a puddle |
 |
| More cliffs |
We enjoyed
a peaceful 2 hour ride back to the hostel listening to Irish music & Des's jokes. Again, I waited the day of to book my hostel on a Saturday
night. Why don’t I ever learn!?!? I was hoping to make it to Limerick for the
night, Cork the next, & finish my last couple of nights in Dublin. All of
the Limerick hostels were booked. All of the Cork hostels were booked. I
decided to make my way down to Cork for the day & figure out what to do
once I got there. After all, I had to make it to Blarney Castle to kiss the
Blarney Stone! Legend has it, kissing the Blarney Stone gives you the gift of
eloquence with a possibility of cold sores (still waiting for that to be determined). Be careful guys, I’m a flirtin’ machine now! Just kidding, I tried it out
last night. I’m still socially awkward. I met an au pair, Magdalena, from Austria
& joined her as she searched for the Blarney Stone too. Instead of butchering the story, this is what the website says:
 |
| A Mandrake plant like in Harry Potter =D |
“Some say it
was Jacob’s Pillow, brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah. Here it became
the Lia Fail or ‘Fatal Stone’, used as an oracular throne of Irish kings – a
kind of Harry Potter-like ‘sorting hat’ for kings. It was also said to be the
deathbed pillow of St Columba on the island of Iona. Legend says it was then
removed to mainland Scotland, where it served as the prophetic power of royal
succession, the Stone of Destiny. When Cormac MacCarthy, King of Munster, sent
five thousand men to support Robert the Bruce in his defeat of the English at
Bannockburn in 1314, a portion of the historic Stone was given by the Scots in
gratitude – and returned to Ireland. Others say it may be a stone brought back
to Ireland from the Crusades – the ‘Stone of Ezel’ behind which David hid on
Jonathan’s advice when he fled from his enemy, Saul. A few claim it was the stone
that gushed water when struck by Moses. Whatever the truth of its origin, we
believe a witch saved from drowning revealed its power to the MacCarthys.”
 |
| Kissing the Blarney Stone/eating my hair...eloquence, here I come. |
 |
| My new friend. |
After
successfully not falling through the grate to our deaths as we kissed the stone,
Magdalena & I went to a pub where I had my first Guinness. It was…an
experience. The waiter sat us down, asked where we were from, then told me to
follow him after discovering I live in Boston. I followed his maze as he took me to the back of
the bar where a "Mansfield St" street sign was hanging. He took me up to meet the
owner, who was born at the hospital a minute's walk down the
road from my house. One of his friends from back home took that street sign from Allston/Boston (right beside Brighton/Boston) & sent it to him to proudly show off. On our busride home, Magdalena gave
me some great German bands to listen to. At some point in the day, I decided to
head straight to Dublin for the remainder of my stay, because a Saturday
night in Dublin is going to be a fun one...unless your train has a 2.5 hour
delay that involves a bus transfer with a talkative German resulting in you getting home at 1 am. Then you just want
to go to bed.
 |
| My first Guinness...wasn't...very good. |
 |
| She knows how to drink a beer. |
Lucas, a German
ecologist living in Ireland working on his PhD, immediately sat down, offered me a beer,
& entertained me for the next few hours as we made our slow journey to
Dublin. We had a great time joking around until I went back to my hostel &
realized I had visible (dark) food in my front teeth from dinner with Magdalena. My grace never fails me.
When I got off
the train last night, I almost had a heart attack. On a Saturday night with no
spare money, the ATM machine declined my card saying to call my bank. Thanks bank.
Looks like I would not be having an Irish Saturday night after all. I had a
feeling it was going to be another repeat of Spain, just without any money! I
headed to the hostel at 1 am, told Dave, the midnight attendant, what was going
on & reluctantly offered my passport until I could get the money somehow,
to which he said was not allowed. Well at least this gave me the opportunity to try something new & sleep on the streets. Thankfully, I went to another ATM that was more than happy to give me my monies. Dave took pity on me (probably the food that was still in my teeth), upgraded my room, & gave me one of the best 3
hours of sleep I have had on this trip. Before heading to bed, I was trying to
write this blog, but Dave decided to hang out with me & talk for the next 2
hours. We had a great time discussing how great Budapes(h)t is & swapped our
life stories. I swear, these people are fantastic!! As soon as Dave left, some
drunk guys & ladies coming in after a late night decided to kidnap me to
who knows where in the hostel for shenanigans & good times. So it was a
pretty great, late Saturday night after all.
Right
before we docked into Rosslare, Ireland, I decided to head to the west coast
to Galway for my first stop. Two nights in Galway, one night in Limerick,
one night in Cork, & the last 2 nights in Dublin are what await me although
Limerick might have to be skipped due to procrastination & lack of hostels
for tomorrow night. The train ride from Rosslare to Dublin was fantastic…we were squashed between the sea & high cliffs most of the way. Once I
made it to Dublin, I somehow managed to catch the next train to Galway within
the 2 minute time frame before it was to leave.
Even though I was only in this country for a little over a day, it made quite
an impression making me want to come back for a better taste. The Irish people have been
the nicest group of people I have met anywhere (even nicer than US Southerners!!). They’re always jovial, willing to help out, & have some kind of story to tell you. Ireland did not disappoint in my expectations as I gawked at the many sheep passing by my window.
I have
been trying to finish this blog post for the past 3 days, but it has been a
rollercoaster ride for me. Ok, from where I left off. One of our stops was in a small town called Doolin…if you ever happen to visit this place, you HAVE to go to The Doolin
Chocolate Shop & buy a raspberry white chocolate bar & chat up the
owner. One of the greatest things about this beautiful country is the Irish
folk. No matter who you are, what you want, they are always going to greet you
with a big smile & ask how your day is going. It reminds me quite a bit like
home in South Carolina…when we drive down the roads through our neighborhood, we wave to our neighbors or other drivers
whether we know them or not. When I moved to Boston, there was none of that to
my disappointment. On the trains, there is no talking to other people because
you would be considered weird otherwise. I remember when I first moved up to Boston how I
silently conspired to change all of that, one person at a time. But Boston got
to me, & I slowly started to turn into one of them. I have caught myself
MANY times going up to an Irish person to ask for help & immediately ask my
question instead of greet them. Everytime, before I start talking, they do
it first! It’s a nice reminder of what one of my many missions in Boston is.
Eventually I will get everyone saying y’all too (got one already!).
“Some say it
was Jacob’s Pillow, brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah. Here it became
the Lia Fail or ‘Fatal Stone’, used as an oracular throne of Irish kings – a
kind of Harry Potter-like ‘sorting hat’ for kings. It was also said to be the
deathbed pillow of St Columba on the island of Iona. Legend says it was then
removed to mainland Scotland, where it served as the prophetic power of royal
succession, the Stone of Destiny. When Cormac MacCarthy, King of Munster, sent
five thousand men to support Robert the Bruce in his defeat of the English at
Bannockburn in 1314, a portion of the historic Stone was given by the Scots in
gratitude – and returned to Ireland. Others say it may be a stone brought back
to Ireland from the Crusades – the ‘Stone of Ezel’ behind which David hid on
Jonathan’s advice when he fled from his enemy, Saul. A few claim it was the stone
that gushed water when struck by Moses. Whatever the truth of its origin, we
believe a witch saved from drowning revealed its power to the MacCarthys.”
When I got off
the train last night, I almost had a heart attack. On a Saturday night with no
spare money, the ATM machine declined my card saying to call my bank. Thanks bank.
Looks like I would not be having an Irish Saturday night after all. I had a
feeling it was going to be another repeat of Spain, just without any money! I
headed to the hostel at 1 am, told Dave, the midnight attendant, what was going
on & reluctantly offered my passport until I could get the money somehow,
to which he said was not allowed. Well at least this gave me the opportunity to try something new & sleep on the streets. Thankfully, I went to another ATM that was more than happy to give me my monies. Dave took pity on me (probably the food that was still in my teeth), upgraded my room, & gave me one of the best 3
hours of sleep I have had on this trip. Before heading to bed, I was trying to
write this blog, but Dave decided to hang out with me & talk for the next 2
hours. We had a great time discussing how great Budapes(h)t is & swapped our
life stories. I swear, these people are fantastic!! As soon as Dave left, some
drunk guys & ladies coming in after a late night decided to kidnap me to
who knows where in the hostel for shenanigans & good times. So it was a
pretty great, late Saturday night after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment