departing dublin depression

((don't let my cutesy alliteration fool you. ))


Happier days (in Derry)

I'll write a reflective blog when I'm home. This one is just to make note of the fact that today is my last day here. DEPRESSING. It's only noon and I have wanted to cry since about 10 this morning (I was busy sleeping before that) and it shows no sign of letting up. It's going to be such a hard day no matter how fun our last night in Dublin is. I absolutely despise goodbyes and after today I will have had to do at least 20 of them (I already went and said goodbye to Don so one down...woop. woop.).

I am in the process of trying to write an essay reflecting on my time here (for my CIEE class) but I can't even focus on that cos it makes me too depressed.

wa wa waaaaaaaa.....

ps/ yes, I would like some cheese with my whine.

sláinte....(depression even seeps from my punctuation. that's how bad it is)

My final trip from the city

The group: Connor, Me, Pat, Katie, Nora, Rob

We made it to the top!

About half way up

Before starting the real hike (you can see this lake in the picture from the top)

Thursday night, we had a Christmas party for our CIEE group (and friends). Everyone dressed in red and green and we decorated cookies, ate candy and everyone brought a gift for our 'yankee swap.' We listened to Christmas music and eventually turned the gathering in to a nice dance party. Later in the evening, some friends came all dressed in Santa suits and really added to the Christmas cheer! It was such a fun night and really reinforced how much I will miss everyone here when I leave.

Friday, my friend Katie and I met for lunch and she mentioned that a group of people were going to go hiking through the wicklow mountains the following day. I was so down. We met at 5 and took a bus an hour and a half outside Dublin to the town of Glendalough. We didn't know where we were going to stay but figured we'd find a place and then wake up early saturday to hike. We got off when the bus driver told us it was the last stop and were let off in the middle of nowhere in pitch black. We looked around at each other and laughed, knowing that finding our way was bound to be an adventure. When we asked the driver which direction the city center was he smirked and asked us where we were staying. We told him we didn't know yet and after his response of 'jesus christ,' he told us there was a hostel a little ways down the road. At this point it was raining and as we set off to find somewhere to sleep, our need for a flash light or night vision became more and more apparent. No street lights anywhere.

We got to a hotel first and asked if they had any vacancies. nope. great, this could be a cold, wet night. Finally we found the hostel and were pleased to find there were vacancies. It was a really cute little place and the 6 of us all got a room together. Starving, we decided to head back to the pub to try and get something to eat. By this point it was about 8:00. No food. A guy in the pub told us that there was a restaurant a little ways up the road that would still be open. He estimated it was about a mile but it was the only option we had in the little town of glendalough consisting of one hotel, one pub, one hostel and one restaurant. Walking in the rain and dark for what seemed like forever we eventually got there. The place looked pretty fancy and here we were looking like soaked rats. oh well, it's Ireland, I'm sure they are used to it. The place was amazing. Katie, Nora and I got the best salad ever and the service was outstanding.

When we got there they immediately took our soaked jackets from us to hang up and when we told them we had come from the hostel they offered to give us a ride back when we were finished with our meal. We were completely amazed but by the way they offered we got the impression that they do this a lot. Something we have all noticed about Ireland is the fact that in restaurants and other places, customer service isn't very high on their priorities. Probably greatly due to the fact that you don't tip here, but it is kind of strange to have to wave down a waiter to ask for more water all the time. At this restaurant, however, we were helped the entire time and they kept coming to make sure everything was ok. To top it off as we were getting ready to ask for the bill they asked if we all wanted a shot of Baileys on the house. Yeah, the service was that good. Needless to say, we left them a hefty tip.

We finished our night at the pub playing music on the juke box, playing cards and just enjoying each other's company ("aww how cute," I know)

The next morning we got up early to have breakfast and be on our way. We totally lucked out with the weather (like i've told you, I seem to have been doing this my whole trip). The sun was out and there were only a few clouds in the sky. The perfect day for a hike. It took us about 3 and a half hours and was absolutely stunning! It was a good hike too, at first it was pretty flat but then we did quite a good climb to the top. From there you could see clear out past Dublin to the Ocean which was really cool. The views were all breath taking and I couldn't imagine a better way to bring my time in Ireland to a close.

A couple of weeks ago I was completely ready and excited to go home, but now as it gets closer, I am having a harder and harder time with leaving. Ireland has been incredible and the people I have met here have made it that much better. I can't imagine not being with them when I go home and I think that's what's going to be the worst part. I truly have had the time of my life over here!

Sláinte!

Barcelona

La Sagrada Familia

Inside La Sagrada Familia

Back side of La Sagrada Familia

View of City from Park Guell

more Gaudi at Park Guell

I have hit a writers block on my finals...if it's possible to do so before having written anything.

Last Friday about 10 other people from my group and I headed off to Barcelona for the weekend. I really didn't know anything about what I was going to do or see there except that Natasha and I would be splitting off to stay in a hostel with Melinda (my friend from home). Melinda has been over traveling around Europe by herself for the past two months so I was super excited to get to meet up!

Traveling in a group of 11 people--who, lets be honest, really have no idea what they're doing--turned out to be quite the ordeal. It took us forever to figure out how to buy the right ticket for the metro and in the mean time--while one of the security guys was trying to help us--I guess someone tried to get in to my bag. The man started telling someone to leave and then looked at me and told me to be careful and someone was trying to rob me, "can't you tell?" well no sir, actually I couldn't. I'm standing in a huge group trying to understand your directions at how to use this machine and plus I'm an American tourist, I thought our vulnerability was quite well known by now. Anyways, after that little ordeal I knew traveling in a large group was a bad idea, especially carrying bags and turning around in circles trying to figure out where to go and what to do.

Natasha and I got off the metro and headed down Las Ramblas--one of the main streets in barcelona--towards our hostel. As we were walking down the road, two guys started talking to me and pointing at my bag/jacket. I immediately thought someone had sliced my bag open or something like that but when I stopped to take a look I found this, fortunately, to be not the case. However, someone had sprayed some kind of yellow goop all over my backpack and jacket. Before you get all giddy thinking I got pooped on by some Spanish bird, let me add in there that the smell of honey mustard accompanied this goop making me feel a little better about my fate. Now, not only did I look like I didn't know what the hell I was doing but I looked like a chicken nugget. awesome. The guys handed me a napkin and I did my best to wipe myself clean of the condiment. sick. I still don't know how this happened and I was unsuccessful in finding the little punk who apparently was carrying a super soaker filled with mustard.

It took us about two hours to get from the airport to our hostel (the bus to the metro station in the city took an hour alone) so needless to say we were way late for meeting Melinda and I just kept hoping that they had let her check in even though the reservations were under my name(which they did). Our hostel was called Kabul Hostel and I totally recommend it if you find yourself in Barcelona. It was right off of Las ramblas in this cute little square with plenty of things going on at all time. The place was the most stereotypical hostel I could imagine. Perhaps a little overwhelming if you had to stay there forever, but I was looking for that experience since the other times I have been more secluded. There was a bar in the lobby where people were always in there drinking and listening to music. Continental breakfast was served every morning, along with free dinner (which was first come first serve) and to top it off, from 6:30-7:30 pm there was a happy hour that served 2 liter beers for only 3 euros! It only cost us 19 euro a night and with all that included, it was the best deal I have found yet.

Considering we didn't get there until about 12:30 and spent the first half hour or so just catching up, we weren't sure if we were up for a big night. Instead we went to the hostel bar for a pint then hit the streets just to wander around. Spanish culture is a very late one where places stay open very late and clubs don't even open until around 2:30 am so we potentially had the whole night still ahead of us. We were tired though and decided after some falafel (if you go to continental Europe--they don't have them in Ireland--go to MAOZ and be prepared for the most amazing falafel) and unsuccessful free entry to a club we would just go back and go out the next night.

The first night we were there all of the beds in our room were full but by our last day it was just Melinda, Natasha and I and 2 Spanish girls, a guy from London (but spent most of his time in France) and a creepy Italian. One of the coolest things about being in a hostel is getting to meet the different people staying there and we talked with the French/British guy and Spanish girls a lot. A lot of the talking was of course about our creepy Italian roommate. The fact that he didn't speak any English (or really Spanish) left room for a lot of miscommunication but let me assure you, that was the least creepy part about him. The first night we were there he kept peering over his bed (he was on the top bunk and Natasha was on the bottom) and looking at Natasha. Finally, after about the third time she looked at him and asked him to stop doing that...to which he replied "you stop." He tried to communicate to her the fact that she was moving around which was funny because clearly, he had been the one all night moving around and making a lot of noise. His locker was right next to my head (I was on another top bunk) and so in the morning he was going through his stuff and when I opened my eyes he was looking at me so I just uncomfortably turned over. Nobody wanted to be in the room alone with him and It actually became the joke of our room.

<>

During the day we walked around and saw some of the most amazing Architecture ever! I wasn't really familiar with the artist Gaudi before, but his work is all over the city and is truly beautiful. His architecture combines nature and almost fluid shapes together. It is really unique and quite easy to distinguish. We went and saw, probably Barcelona's most famous building, La Sagrada Familia. It is a huge cathedral designed by Gaudi that started being built in 1882 and is still pretty far from being finished. The building is incredible and the detail takes your breath away. I hope, so bad, to see it finished in my life time!

Outside la sagrada familia there were little holiday booths set up and christmas music being played. One of the booths were selling churros, which were almost as amazing as the church...calm down, I said almost.

Las ramblas is lined with street performers and so we spent some time just watching all of them. These aren't people juggling and swallowing swords, no...this is a whole street lined with those people who get dressed up and act like statues. weird. way weirder than you can imagine. some of them are seriously pathetic, others are actually really cool. One guy has accumulated a little fame even. He is dressed up as Edward Scissor Hands and then will occasionally move like him when someone gives him money. He looks exactly like Johnny Depp though, so much so that we were convinced it was actually Johnny himself just getting a little extra cash. These people stand here day in day out and some how find a way to earn a living. I can't imagine how much money that means people give them. I also can't imagine finding any dignity in painting my face gold and standing still for 8 hours a day but that's just me being critical and picky.

Along Las Ramblas there is this huge outdoor market called La Boqueria. There was any kind of fresh food you could imagine as well as meats galore. It was packed full and really cool to walk through.

Saturday night we were convinced to do a pub crawl. I have decided that not only are they good ways to meet people but they are a cheap way to go out at night! It cost us 10 euro and with that we got an hour with unlimited sangria and beer, a free shot at the four bars we went to and free club admission at the end of the night. Walking around from pub to pub was also a cool way to see parts of the city we would otherwise miss. This crawl, while a better deal than the one in Paris, had waaaayyy fewer people on it. When we got to the first place--for our "power hour"--there were only a couple other people there. Two guys were from Atlanta and worked for Delta and were just in Barcelona for about 24 hours. I think everyone else was from America too, but we didn't talk to them much.


Sunday we did more exploring and went to the Picasso Museum. It was sooooo cool to see so much of his work and the progression of his style. I really hadn't seen a lot of his earlier work and it was cool to see stuff outside of his classic "picasso" style. That evening we decided to just stay in our hostel. It was really nice and relaxing and I laid and listened to music while Melinda painted and Natasha drew. Some of the people in our room came in to hang out with us for the night and we just sat around talking.

Monday was our last day there and we went to Park Guell to see more of Gaudi's work. Amazing again. The park was really cool and had gorgeous views of the city. It was a really good way to end our trip.

Barcelona was very different from Paris. But I have noticed that all of the places that I have been during my time here have been very different. Barcelona has a much more funky and bohemian feel to it and I could really see myself actually living there. Paris is filled with all of these huge sites to see which is incredible but Barcelona was more of a realistic place to live. I'm sure spending your evenings lounging on the grass beneath the Eiffel tower drinking wine and eating a baguette would get ridiculous and tiring after a while. There was a really nice feeling to the city and everyone just seemed down to earth and down to have a good time. Considering I have only taken a couple months worth of Spanish (in the sixth grade) I didn't think i knew anything about the language apart from little words and phrases you pick up around here and there--being in a Spanish speaking country for 3 days made me realize that I seriously don't know any Spanish. Luckily Melinda and Natasha were able to get us by. I was able to just stand there with a confused look on my face and laugh whenever people tried to talk to me until one of them were able to come rescue me. Some day I'll learn Spanish and come back. And go to central and south America. Oh great, I think that was some foreshadowing for a future blog.

I only have 4 more days in Dublin. AHHHH. There is still so much I want to see and do and am not going to be able to. I have 4 essays I wanted to finish (only one that is actually due before I come home) but am leaving Thursday and Friday purely for Dublin. The city I have called home for the past 3 months deserves at least two solid days uninterrupted by school. Looks like I will have homework to do when I get home but I will survive. I have weeks left for homework but only days left for Dublin.

Sláinte

mom's visit and Paris

just another day

Le Tour Eiffel

Arc De Triomphe

Mom's thanksgiving

Cliffs of Moher

sorry it's been so long since my last post. I would say I have been busy but the truth is...I'm lazy.

dang, it's been longer than I thought actually...3 weeks ago now, Mom came to visit. She got here in the morning and later that afternoon we hopped on a train to Galway (in western Ireland). I had been over to that area before but hadn't actually spent time in the town of Galway so it was really nice to see and experience. The town has a completely different feel to it than Dublin. It almost feels like a college town (there's a university there so that description is not too far off) which I really enjoyed. People there seemed more laid back and there weren't a bunch of crazy Dublin kids running around (I can't remember if I've gone in to detail about these obnoxious kids but if not, I'm sure I'll tell more when i get home). Another friend of mine, Katie, from my program was there with her parents so Mom and I met them after dinner at this cute pub for some live music and pints.

The next day we just hung around town and did some exploring and the following day we headed out for a tour of county Galway and out to the Cliffs of Moher. The weather was crap (well, actually, it could have been worse--it wasn't really rainy it was just windy, cloudy, and 'misty') which kind of sucked. Considering what I had been expecting of Ireland, the weather has actually been pretty amazing. I was telling Mom that there has only been really one day (other than that weekend) where it hadn't been blue skies on a day of sight seeing since I've been here. The tour was really nice and it was good to see more of the country. It is truly beautiful--even in bad weather. The cliffs of Moher were cool to see but personally--god, I'm becoming so pretentious--I found them to be a little over rated. Before people start protesting--blah blah blah ya they are pretty and huge and cool and whatever--I would just like to point you to the pictures of the other cliffs that I saw in County Mayo (my first CIEE excursion). Go ahead and blame it on the weather but If you ask me, even in pictures where the weather is nice they still aren't as pretty as the ones in Mayo. Another reason I may have been a little unimpressed was the fact that the whole 'park' it had been turned in to seemed so commercialized and over done. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was thankful for the paths--even though at times it was so windy Mom and I could literally not walk--but there was something cooler about getting to peek over amazing cliffs without a caution sign posted right in front of you. While all of this bitching about one of the world's wonders may have put you off a little, I would still recommend you going and seeing them if you ever find yourself in the west of Ireland. I mean, it's kind of like the Mona Lisa when you're in Paris right (but that's getting ahead of myself)? It's not Ireland unless you see the cliffs of Moher.


We took the train back on Sunday and the rest of the week we hung around Dublin. Showed Mom all the hot spots, drank lots of Guinness and tried to get as much in in the few days we had (while still going to SOME of my classes). One of the nights Mom treated a few of my friends and I to a lovely thanksgiving dinner. She went all out (as any of you who know her could already guess) and brought some of the stuff from home and the rest we scrounged up at a couple different grocery stores around town. It was a lot of fun and the food tasted really great (don't get too excited mom, I only get to say 'really great' cos I helped make it). The next morning she left at the crack of dawn and it was back to real Dublin life where I had to pay for things on my own, (and was no longer graced with my mother's lovely presence and 'puh-puhing' every day).

Later that same afternoon, my friend Natasha and I headed for Pair-ee. The airport that Ryanair flies to takes an hour--by shuttle--to get in to the city so we didn't get to our hotel until about midnight. When booking reservations for the hotel I had misread the flight itinerary and had thought we wouldn't get in until Friday night but actually it was Thursday night. After some in depth--or so I thought--back and fourth confirmation emails with the hotel I had thought that I had added Thursday night on to the reservation. The look on the manager's face when we arrived and said our names proved this to be wrong though. He said that he had been waiting for a final confirmation from me or something like that (although all this time I had thought that's what I had been doing in the 4 emails I sent telling him to add Thursday night on). Never fear though, he said he had a place for us to sleep for the night. There would be no bathroom in the room (but there was one in the lobby we could use--5 flights down) and in the morning he would give us a room to shower in, but hey, it was a place to sleep. I seriously had to cough when I saw the room just to keep from laughing. Have you ever seen 'The Little Princess?' I kept joking to Natasha that we were put in the slave den like the little black girl in that movie. I could just about reach my arms from one side to the other (ME, with midget arms!) and there was a single bed in there and a sink. The man who showed me the room (Natasha was still downstairs using the computer) was like 'there is only one bed' to which I had to try my hardest not to reply 'no shit.' 'Is your friend not going to sleep in here?' I paused, still trying not to laugh, 'umm....maybe one of us will sleep on the ground? can we get some blankets and a pillow or something?' with that he said he would ask the manager and a couple minutes later he brought up a blanket, sheets and pillow. I still thought we were going to have to sleep on the floor until a knock later and the guy had a single mattress to try and squeeze next to the bed. That was seriously all there was room for, 2 single mattresses. No window, but above my bed there was a nice Parisian piece of art. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it and think that it was a perfect way to start our trip (no joke). When we came back the next evening (after exploring all day) we were given our new normal sized room with a fully equipped bathroom and windows and a tv. But you know, there was something fun about the slaves den...it made us feel like we had actually moved to Paris and this was all we could afford. And besides, I always did like the little black girl the best in 'The little Princess,' she was way more tough and you could tell she could hang...a night in the slaves den made me think maybe I too could hang.

Paris. What to say about Paris. Love. Magic. Obsessed. Beautiful. Freezing. Our first night out we saw the most beautiful sun set. The Eiffel Tower set against a pink and purple sun set...sickening, I know. I was almost a little disgusted with myself. It was all so perfect. It was cold. Very cold. But oh so perfect. The Louvre does free admission for anyone under the age of 26 Friday nights from 6-10 so we hit that up and walked around for a few hours looking at art and being cultured and artsy (fake) Parisians for the night. Even though I had been to these places before It was a much different experience. Probably because I am older now and also because we saw most of it at night (which was not the case when I came in high school), but everything seemed so different.

Our hotel was located on the edge of the Montmartre district and so one of the days we explored that area and walked up to the Sacre Coeur. The area is all very artsy, full of adorable little shops and cafes. I think it's actually my favorite part of Paris. When we were near the Sacre Coeur (this huge church that is on the highest hill over looking the city) there was a block filled with artists. Natasha got her portrait drawn and then we headed up the hill. Towards the top--it's almost sickening how close we were!--a man came up to me and started drawing my picture, insisting it was a sample, even when i said 'no, no.' For some reason I didn't just walk away (for some reason I didn't grab that clip board, hit him over the head and tell him to screw off). And as he scribbled away at my picture making small talk I kept thinking, I hope he doesn't expect me to pay him for this. Natasha, while waiting for me, was then approached by another clipboard 'artist' who proceeded to do the same. After they were finished he hands me the picture--Jesus, I can't wait for you to see it--which looks, well....absolutely nothing like me, and tells me that usually the student price is 50 euro. I'll spare you from the list of curse words that went through my mind, but I flashed him a look that basically said, 'you have got to be kidding me.' The amazing picture Natasha had just gotten drawn for her (before we were portrait raped) had only cost her 40 euro and that was a nice piece of art that someone spent time on. I argued with the guy, telling him he had just come up to me and started drawing and that I wasn't going to pay for that and I got it down to 25 euro. Still WAY too much and I was pissed when I walked away. I think I just settled for 25 because I was sick of looking at his face and was to angry to deal with him. Natasha and I tried to justify it as our gift to charity for the day. You know it's like volunteering at the soup kitchen for the day or 'adopting' a child in Africa....but instead we gave our money to scam artists. Did I say scam? I meant starving. ((Travel tip: next time you go to Paris bring a clip board and pen and start drawing people's pictures and charge them 50 euro. Drawing ability not required.))

We went to the top of the Eiffel tower one evening. I thought I was going to die of hypothermia and we ended up running around the top taking pictures of every angle and then standing inside looking out at the view, teeth a-chattering and dreaming of being in a cafe with a warm cup of coffee. The view is absolutely amazing though and it is the Eiffel tower, so warmth is a small sacrifice.

That evening we decided to go on a pub crawl. Some others from our CIEE group had gone on one when they were in Rome and had the time of their lives so we decided to check it out. It was a lot of fun and a great way to meet people. Of course, none of the people were French but we met people from Australia, Finland, Canada and I forget where else (hey now...not because of the booze but because of my memory). We went to like 4 different pubs, 2 French bars, a Scottish bar and an Irish pub (it's impossible to get away from them...which isn't a bad thing) where there were drink specials at each. I tried absynthe for the first time making me feel like a true Paris bohemian, although I didn't see the green ferries or get driven in to madness like all the great absynthe users of the past. oh well. It was super intense and if there was a candle near me I'm sure I could have lit the place on fire with one breath. At the end of the night we went to some club. We stayed there until about 2:30 and then decided to head back to the hotel. The metro was all shut for the night so we had to walk. luckily I had my map with me and enough French speaking ability to ask a police officer if we were headed in the right direction (although my understanding in French was limited to the word 'church' and the hand motion for 'go around').

The last day we were there the weather was awful. I'm talking hard core rain--worse than Ireland for sure. It was the first time I have had to use my umbrella actually. I really wanted to go to Père Lachaise cemetery--which is where Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde (and tons of other people) are buried--since I didn't get to go there the last time I was in Paris so we popped the tags off our umbrellas and headed out. The Cemetery was HUGE. The biggest I have ever seen. Someone could definitely get lost and not find there way out for days. All of the plots were stacked in there so tight and most of them were more of a tomb style. Many were there representing families and there were little alters inside out house type structures (although that sounds way less pretty and cool than they were. and is also probably demeaning to the dead or something). We couldn't find Oscar Wilde or Jim Morrison's grave right away and ended up having to take pictures of the map (cos there were only maps at the entrances) to try and help us find our way around. Oscar Wilde's is covered with lip stick kisses. As tradition calls, Natasha and I both slathered our lips in gloss and planted a big one on the grave. Jim Morrison's grave was a lot smaller and less conspicuous than I had imagined--the cement head that used to be on it was stolen years back. It was blocked off so you couldn't get right up to it but it was cool because people had put a whole bunch of flowers there around it as well as beer cans and bottles of whiskey. We left the cemetery sufficiently soaked and glad to be out by dark (it really was kind of creepy to be there around sun set and not a place we wanted to be stuck in after closing).


So, Paris. What to say about Paris. A weekend really wasn't long enough but I was sooooo glad to have been able to go again. The strangest part for me I think was that when I left 4 years ago I knew I wanted and was going to come back someday but I didn't know when that day would be. It was strange for it to be 'that day' and it came a lot sooner than I had realistically thought. I already want to go back. I love it there. The people are great (aside from mr. portrait raper). The food is great. The sights are great. The life is great.

I hope you guys all had a good thanksgiving. My first time away from home and I think I beat you all by getting 3 dinners! Mom made one when she was here and then on Wednesday my program directors took us to this nice restaurant for a 3 course meal + wine. Thursday (actual thanksgiving) my friend Kevin and his girlfriend who was visiting, made dinner for his roommates and Natasha and I went over there to partake. The food was all great and the company was the best I could imagine away from home.


I'm home in less than three weeks now. Ah! No matter how many times I say it, it doesn't get less strange. The time has absolutely flown by. I have been living the past 2+ months like I'm on vacation and now the time has come for me to actually do some work. I have like 5 essays to try and get the motivation to write in the next 2 weeks. I guess the good news is you guys will probably be seeing more new blogs (procrastination, baby). I'm excited to see all of you but it's going to be so strange to try and get back in to the real world. After all, there are no weekend trips to Paris when you're in the real world.

Sláinte!

Europe's hidden treasure

Alghero, Sardinia

Alghero Bay

one of the views from our balcony

By starting off my blog with pictures I assume you all are crawling in envy. That is right, I spent my weekend (november 7-10) on the white sand beaches of a Mediterranean island off the coast of Italy called Sardinia. We stayed in a city called Alghero and it was an amazing escape from the cold and damp of Ireland!

My friend Natasha and I headed for the airport on Friday and as we sat there waiting for our flight to board we started talking about how much of an adventure this would be. The only words either of us knew in Italian were Buongiorno and ciao. Which both mean about the same thing. The woman at the front desk announced our flight and we realized we didn't even know the name of the place we were going. (we had been pronouncing it al-jero when it is actually al-g-air-o) This was a good sign to say the least considering Alghero just recently started getting tourists (after becoming one of the cheap flights through ryan air) and therefore we read that most people don't speak English there.

We got to Alghero around 8:30 pm and got a cab to our hotel. Right when we got in to the cab he took off at a crazy speed. I think he passed just about everyone on the road and Natasha leaned over and commented about the fact that Italians are known for being crazy drivers. About 5-10 minutes into our ride, about the time we got in to the city center, a bike pulled out in our lane. Luckily, the driver was able to slam on our breaks and the biker was spared (this time). About 2 seconds later a car slammed in to the back of our cab. Natasha and I looked at each other with disbelief (or maybe belief considering how everyone had been driving) and the cab pulled over to the side of the road. Pausing the meter and stepping out with, "one moment" we couldn't help but laugh and ask if this was really happening. The cab driver looked at the back of the car and I guess asked the guy who hit us to follow him and we were off again in a matter of probably 30 seconds. Don't worry though because as soon as he sat back down he started the meter again and 26 euro later we were at our bed and breakfast. I know right...The guy couldn't even give us a discount? Maybe for potential neck pains or something?

We were dropped off at this unlit apartment building and I looked over at Natasha like "what? are we sure this is it?" She is the one who did the booking and she was confident we were there and had directions on how to get in and get up to the B&B. After paging up, a short Italian man named Antonio came down to greet us. The B&B was absolutely adorable. It was in his family's apartment on the 6th floor, he lived there with his wife and young daughter and then there were three rooms that he rented out. For around 20 euros a night Natasha and I got the penthouse suite! We were led through French doors into a foyer with a small table and chairs that led out to our personal balcony looking over the city and the Mediterranean (also with a table and chairs). Inside to the right was an adorable bathroom with beautiful blue printed tiles covering the walls and even included our very own bidet. Our room was decorated Ikea style and we had our own little fridge with yogurt, milk, orange juice, cookies, break and jelly and pastries for our breakfast for the next few days. It was truly amazing and Antonio was very helpful throughout the week!

We decided to go for a walk around the city and on our way we stopped by a take-out pizza place. We got a good size (we were able to share) pizza with spinach and asparagus on it and two beers for 8 euro! We couldn't even believe how cheap it all was compared to Ireland. The pizza was incredible and maybe the best part were the delivery boys. irishmen shirishmen. By the end of the weekend we were nearly convinced that either good looks were required to live on the island or all ugly people were 'done away with.' If the people are anything like the mob Italians I would say the 'uglies' are done away with. Another requirement for life in Alghero was a black leather jacket and a cigarette in your hand 80% of the time. Wearing colors was a dead give away you weren't a local.

The next day (after breakfast on our balcony, as became routine) we spent all day wondering around the city. It is not very big but we were so enamored with the 'italianess' of the city and the amazing views we couldn't get enough.

Sunday we wanted to go to Neptune's Grotto, which are caves near the city but we misread the pamphlet given to us at the tourist information center and missed the only bus that went out there at 9:15 am. Luckily it was another beautiful day and we spent the whole day on the beach instead. We went to buy our tickets for the bus to go to the caves on monday (our last day) and the lady at the desk seemed unimpressed and just shook her head and said "strike." We kind of looked at each other like what? does that mean the same thing in english? what do you mean a strike? We found out the buses were going on strike on monday so there would be no way for us to get to the caves without renting a car. awesome. After a lot of contemplation (and calling around for prices and stuff) we decided against renting a car. It seriously took us about a day to come to this decision though. I would normally be all up for the guaranteed adventure however, our almost humiliating lack of direction, inability to speak the same language as just about everyone on the island and the fact that we had already been involved in a car accident was enough to convince my love of adventure to chill out.


Our flight didn't leave until 8:15 monday night so we had all day to play around which was nice. It was probably 75 degrees that day and absolutely beautiful! We rented bikes and decided to ride up the coast. Along the way we came to the pine tree forest and I saw that there was sand up through the trees so we got off our bikes to walk up to see what was through the other side. The view was incredible. We walked up a dune and there on the other side was a white sand beach of the Mediterranean. We stayed there for a while and then headed back up the coast. The other side from the city center was a little town called Fertillia. It was really cute but almost eerily quite. It felt like it was almost abandoned. The only thing that told us otherwise was a small cafe/bar that was open where we stopped for lunch. After biking back to the city center we stopped by a cafe overlooking the bay, ordered a bottle of wine and some chocolate cake and sat around for about two hours listening to Michael Jackson, disco and other great gems of American music. It was an amazing way to end our trip as you can imagine!


The cultural differences between Italy and Ireland are immense. During the middle of the day (maybe around 1) most/all of the businesses take a break until around 4. Restaurants break from around 3 or 4 until about 7:30 pm. If you wanted to eat dinner before 7:30 too bad (unless you wanted to settle for mcdonalds). If you weren't going to settle for Micky-Ds you had to find another way to waste time--the best way we found was to go for a coffee/drink and dessert. It was so strange to be thrown in to this late culture when we were used to American and Irish culture (which run on just about the same time schedule).

I don't think I can say enough how much I encourage you all to go to Alghero if you are ever in Europe. It was so nice to feel like we were two of the only tourists there and be completely surrounded by locals and Sardinian culture. I really hope that someday I will be able to go back and maybe there wont be a bus strike and I can visit the caves...or maybe my sense of adventure will be able to overrule my buzz kill cautiousness and I will be brave enough to rent a car. Either way, there is more I want to see and so I gotta go back.


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Sláinte!

Northern Ireland

Sinn Fein building and mural of Bobby Sands

Peace line in Belfast separating catholics and protestants

Derry (looking up from the bogside)

View of Derry from medieval city wall

me and Osama on Halloween

Giant's Causeway (there's better pictures but it takes to much time to rotate them)

Area around Carrick-a-rede

Carrick-a-rede rope bridge

Considering all of the history and intensity of my trip to northern Ireland...this post has taken me over a week to finally get the motivation to sit down and write.

This was the second and final trip that we went on as a group (our CIEE group). We left Thursday morning and headed up to Belfast. We only spent the afternoon there but honestly I am not sure that I could have lasted any longer. The city has a very violent history (actually very recent--violence still occurs today but the most recent major events took place in 2001) and this caused the whole city to feel dark and depressing. There are political murals all over the city which are absolutely incredible--probably one of the only positive feelings I experienced. I came to Ireland not knowing a lot about the troubles (English-Irish, protestant-catholic) but have spent the last 2 months learning so much about it. I have learned all about important people and struggles and movements that took place. I have learned the words republican and nationalists and loyalists and unionists. I have learned about the hunger strikers and the brutality against the nationalists. All of this hit when I got off the bus and walked around Belfast. It was really a good experience to get to walk around the town where so much has taken place but because it all is so recent, everyone around was almost transparent with exhaustion and pain. There were memorials all over the place for people from various neighborhoods who had been killed. I think what was most striking was that the ages listed on these memorials were much younger than I had expected. Many were around 17 years old and then there were the outliers of children around 4 and elderly people around 60 years old...all murdered.

The peace line that was created is also one that screams pain and is not one that you might imagine a structure containing the word "peace" to look like. The wall separates catholic and protestant areas of Belfast and is a very tall green wall that has a wire fence on top. It is supposed to be tall enough to prevent things from being thrown over top, but houses along the peace wall often had caged off back yards to make sure that this was the case.

We spent the first part of our time in the nationalist/catholic part of Belfast--along Falls road. The murals painted by nationalists are very prideful of Ireland and show things like Irish sports and are written in Irish and things like that. We saw the Sinn Fein office and the mural of Bobby Sands (the first hunger striker to die)--I believe it is the most photographed mural in the world actually. When we crossed over to the loyalist/protestant side--Shankhill road--there was a much different feel. The murals are more typically brutal and have a message of anger and dominance and for that reason many of them were taken down (because they offended tourists). Probably (actually I'm sure of it) because Don (our director) is a catholic from Dublin we felt much more uneasy along shankhill road than in the nationalist part of town.

While the peace agreement was signed quite a few years ago the troubles are still very much part of everyday life and violence still occurs due to the separation. >>side note: Bill Clinton was a key figure in getting a peace agreement signed and so if you want to make friends with an Irishmen strike up conversation about the man and most likely they will go nuts (the guy is like a saint over here).>> In 2001 primary school aged catholic kids had to walk through a protestant area on their way to and from school and because their parents were associated with being former members of the IRA or other catholic movements, rocks and other things were thrown at them. The guards were forced to come in and barricade the road so the children and their parents could walk safely to and from school for something like 4 months. It was actually very much like the events that happened during the civil rights down in Arkansas...only this was in 2001. It was just a really weird experience and feeling in general and while I was glad that I got to see it all, I was happy I didn't have to stay.

Derry is where we went next and spent all three nights. The city was absolutely adorable and had a very homey feeling to it. While there was great violence that took place there as well (Bloody Sunday for instance) we felt much more comfortable there than in Belfast! On Friday was Halloween and we went to the Ulster American Folk Park which was like a little recreated village of 'olden day' Ireland. A lot of it was closed off though to prepare for Halloween festivities that would go on in the evening. Almost every house in Derry was decorated for Halloween and we were told that it was necessary for us to dress up because the streets would be closed off and around 30 thousand people were expected to be out and if you weren't in costume you would not only stand out but could even be harassed. Of course I already had my mask and decided I would be one of those harassing the people who didn't dress up.

After dinner there was a huge firework show and then we went out to the streets of Derry to see if it all was as big as everyone had been preparing us for. Let me tell you...the Irish know how to do Halloween. Every single person was in full costume attire. I don't mean everyone had on a pair of animal ears of devil horns, I mean dressed to the nine! Walking around one could be fooled quite easily into believing the town had actually morphed into 100 jokers (probably the most popular outfit of the night), scooby do, cowboys, soldiers etc. Shoot at one point I thought I had found Osama Bin Ladin and that Saddam Husein had come back to life. Who would have thought they would both be hanging out in northern Ireland right? By the end of the night you can only imagine what the streets looked like. There was more broken glass than I had ever seen and trash was spilled everywhere. People stumbled around with smeared make-up and costumes barely intact...it is true, the Irish really know how to do Halloween.

The next day was spent on a much more somber note as we did a walking tour of Derry and saw more murals from the troubles. As I mentioned earlier, Derry is the site of Bloody Sunday. <i'll give you a couple seconds here to sing the U2 song.> Many of the murals were dedicated to people who were killed in that event. For those of you who don't know more about the event than the fact that U2 sang a song about it (as I was this person up until going to Derry) I'll give you a brief overview:

So on January 30, 1972 there was a peaceful civil rights march (greatly influenced by the civil rights movement in the states) that took place in the streets of Derry through the bogside (a catholic area--that our hotel actually looked down on). During this march there were some small riots that started (keep in mind--unarmed) and the British Parachute Regiment took it upon themselves (under whose order is still to be determined) to take fire on the marchers. This regiment was known for being basically psychopathic and was to be used only in emergencies but somehow they ended up 'patrolling' a peace march. 13 protesters were shot and killed. After the event the British let out a statement claiming all who were killed were bombers and snipers and members of the IRA (although in reality the IRA had been told not to attend the march in order to keep it peaceful). Not long after, it was discovered that all 13 had been unarmed and most had been shot while crawling to safety. Seven of the 13 were still teenagers. There has been an investigation in progress for the past 30 years now and the release of this investigation is supposed to be out sometime next year (although it was to have been already released).

We visited a museum called "The Museum of Free Derry." The museum was started by the brother of one of the 17 year old boys shot and killed that day. He too (the man who created the museum) was there on the day in 1972. The place was incredible and throughout you could hear a video recording of the events that took place. We read all about the history and there were clothes worn by people shot that day displayed and newspapers articles etc. Near the end of the museum there was a letter written by a member of the Ulster Volunteer Force (the protestant loyalist paramilitary) to the parents of one of the men killed in Bloody Sunday. The letter was the worst thing I have ever read and included the most horrific name calling and damning of ones life than I could ever imagine. It left me physically ill and near to tears. The entire museum was extremely moving. After, we were able to speak to a woman who's brother (who was also 17 at the time) was killed in bloody Sunday and it was really great to get her perspective.

All the time I have been here I have felt the sense of disconnect (to put it lightly) between the British and Irish and this museum left me with an understanding as to why those feelings still exist. There is no question that what happened that day was wrongfully done and I will be looking forward to seeing the results of the investigation if they are ever finally released.

So while the museum was truly depressing I fell in love with Derry and would most definitely go back. Maybe because it really felt like fall (which leaves me with a romantic idealism about everything) or maybe because it was actually there, but the town left me feeling like even in a place where such brutality can take place there is hope for a better future. Maybe even for a place like Belfast.

((...then again maybe all this 'hope' and idealism is just coming from me since I'm writing this after seeing a miracle take place on election day.))

all of this 'troubles' talk almost made me post this blog forgetting the beauty we saw! So Saturday we took a drive out to see Giant's Causeway (one of the geological wonders of the world). On our way we stopped by Carrick-a-rede rope bridge which is (surprise surprise) a rope bridge that is really high above the water and is absolutely gorgeous! After doing the walk accross we headed to Giant's Causeway. Here the rocks are formed in pillars and different shapes. It is really really cool and now that i think about it, I don't think I was listening very well cos I can't tell you how they were formed. My guess is lava. Yes, lava sounds good. Anyways, there's an Irish folk story about some giant who lived there or something so maybe instead of lava I will say that a giant formed them. Yep, that's my final answer. Saw cool rock formations that were formed by an Irish giant. Who cares really though, it was beautiful and it was in Ireland.

Sláinte!

adventures in 'stab city'

Bunratty Castle--headed for the banquet

Bunratty

This picture turned out a lot cooler for everyone else cos they were tall enough to stick their heads out. thanks mom and dad.

Bunratty Castle

View of Limerick from King James Castle

King James Castle

So Europe has these really amazing things called 'Bank holidays.' Their purpose...who knows. The result...no school (and for some, no work). Awesome if you ask me. Discovering that we were going to have a long weekend, some of my friends and I decided that we wanted to leave Dublin. Our first choice was Galway, but due to a jazz festival (and the city's sheer popularity) all of the hostels were booked. Second choice, Cork, full too. Third choice, Limerick. We found a bus and a hotel (that's right, not even a hostel) for 20 euro a night and booked that little baby up. Soon after booking our trip we find out from Don (one of our directors--'God' as we like to refer to him) that little ol' Limerick is known as 'stab city.' Great. Everyone who we talked to about it said it was great 'crack' (irish slang loosely translated as 'fun') but just to be really careful, hold your purses close and don't go anywhere after the places close (like no food or nothin') and to just take a cab back to the hotel. A little worried we left on Saturday morning, fully prepared for anything and with no clue as to what we were going to do once we got there.

We got to limerick around 2, got to our hotel and found out that we couldn't check in yet (even though online said check in was at 11) so luckily 'Eddie Rockets' (yeah, you guessed it...Ireland's version of Johnny Rockets) was next door so we waited in there with burgers and oreo milk shakes. yummmm. It was really rainy the whole day so we were trying to decide what to do. We decided to stay in our rooms and chill out for a few hours before heading in to city center for dinner and 'pub activities' to follow. The rooms were really nice and there was a double bed and then a couch that had a mattress that pulled out from underneath--holding 3 people in each. A couple hours of napping/reading later we made quite the discovery. The back couch cushion was one giant pillow that made the most awesome flying contraption. Here we were a room full of 20 (and one 21) year olds jumping from the couch on to the bed sailing on a couch cushion. Much more fun than it sounds and I suggest ALL of you (no age requirement here) to try it out. We got some good pictures but they're not on my camera so I'm sorry but you guys will have to imagine. We got the 3 from the other room to come over and insisted they test it out. About an hour later--and after convincing ourselves we could not come all this way just to stay in and 'mattress dive'--we grabbed a taxi and headed for the city.

The Cab drivers were all really amazing and when they found out we had heard it was called 'stab city' they did their best to make us feel comfortable. The driver drove us to the main 2 streets that were safe and told us which bars were good and which place to eat at and he gave us his personal number to call if we were ever lost or needed a ride at any time. It was really nice and his suggestions were great! The club we went to after dinner was owned by his brother (or maybe his brother just worked there, who knows) and after we left we gave the driver a call and told him all was well and thanked him for his help and suggestions! It was just one of many many examples of the good nature people have over here and how willing they are to help and make you feel comfortable.

The next day (as seems to be the pattern) was absolutely beautiful and we were excited to get out there and explore. As recommended by our cab driver the day before, we started off by going to King James Castle. It was really nice and there was a whole little museum before hand that gave you a little history. Turns out King James never lived in the castle and only visited like twice or something weird. The view of Limerick was really pretty and it was a good way to start off our day. From there we decided we would go to Bunratty Castle, which the cab driver had said was more fun (but a little further out). We saw an advertisement for a four course medieval banquet that was held at the castle. Usually this kind of thing isn't really my style. I like more authentic experiences and often enjoy more of a local atmosphere but after thinking about it for a while--the money that would be spent on dinner and a night out as well as the opportunity to experience a huge meal in an old Irish castle--I decided it would be worth it. The promise of free flowing red and white wine didn't hurt either. So after some group collaboration we decided to call and make reservations for that too.

The castle was smaller than King James but BEAUTIFUL. There was a recreated village around it with shops and houses and farm animals. I can't stress enough how beautiful it was. It felt so much like fall and all around were amazing fall colors and fallen leaves. It was like Oregon only with a castle. The only thing i was missing was a cup of hot apple cider and capping the night off with pumpkin carving. We walked around for a couple hours and saw piglets, goats, Irish wolfhounds (freaking cute), ducks, chicken, a peacock and I'm probably forgetting some others. They were all sooooo cute.

The Banquet was really great. All the people working at it were in full medieval gear and said things like lords and ladies. We started with some honey-mead wine and Irish brown bread. Then came some delicious potato and parsnip soup. Then spare ribs. Then chicken and vegetables. Then this amazing desert. And, I can't seem to mention enough, red and white wine throughout all. Oh and to make it a truly authentic meal, we had no silverware just steak knives--our dagger. The people working at it stood up front and sang good ol' Irish folk songs during the meal and even included us in 'wild rover.':

(chorus)
And it's no, nay, never, (4 claps)
No nay never no more,(2 claps)
Will I play the wild rover (1 clap)
No never no more.

The meal was finished with tea and coffee and wine induced song outside the castle (journey and johnny cash would be proud their songs are sung so frequently outside pubs and even castles) as people headed for their cars (which now that I write that seems a little frightening) and cabs. It was a really great day and I was glad we decided to do the banquet. We left the next day, having survived 'stab city,' and learning that the greatest threat there may not be the stabbings but unlimited wine.

We leave for northern Ireland on Thursday which I am really looking forward to. I have spent so much of my time here learning about it, it will be cool to see the place where so much happened. As I realize that I only have 2 free weekends (probably only 1, realistically--as I still hope to meet up with Melinda) I am starting to stress out about all of the work and essays that I need to complete by the time I leave. A few of my essays aren't technically due until the 14th of January (because that's when their semester actually ends) but I am going to do my best to get them done before I leave--I know the last thing I'm going to want to do when I get home is write essays. We'll see how it goes. I've never been one to turn down an all-nighter and I don't see why one in Ireland should be any exception.

Hope you all have a good Halloween! (by the way--be excited for pictures from Halloween in northern Ireland. I hear they do it big up there and I have a mask that will make you proud)

sláinte!