Saturday, March 31, 2012
They've all gone to look for America.
First, obviously, I have internet connection. Yay! Aaron was brilliant and figured it out for me, and the connection speed may actually be faster here than in Dalkey. So that's good.
But more importantly, the matter of "here". OH MY GOODNESS. DAHHHHH. I don't even know what to say about Donegal. And I haven't even seen that much - just what we drove through, and the house where I'm staying now. But I'm completely overwhelmed by the beauty here. Their house here is HUGE! I wasn't counting on it being like this. It's beautiful, fully furnished and decorated, and the west-facing side of the house is full of windows that look out on an INCREDIBLE view of an ocean inlet. From their lovely yard, a path goes down to the very edge of the country. The water looks more like a lake than an ocean, I guess, but this whole area of Donegal is made of small peninsulas; the water is blue and clean and salty and calm and beautiful. And the other three sides of the house are surrounded by hills. Also, their neighbors have sheep! Sheep with baby sheep! They're so cute! But this place. Agh. As soon as we got here I walked down to the seaside (which is pebbly and rocky and reedy, not sandy like our beaches), trying to reconcile the fact that people can actually live every-day lives in places like this. I still don't understand that. I do feel a more creative "click" here than any other place I've been to in the country, though, so maybe some good writing will come out of it. Unfortunately there's not really a path that goes along the perimeter of the inlet - it's all separated by people's fences and property lines. So I can't really go on walks around it that way... but I'll do some exploring, and figure something out.
Okay, I was just googling this part of Donegal to see if I could give you an appropriate picture of what it's like. I'm not sure exactly where in the county this image comes from, but this is pretty much what the drive/this area looks like:
The house itself just knocks me out. My room is the only one downstairs (late night kitchen raids? bwahaha) and it's an "en suite" room, too. The family originally built this house to move into it permanently, because all of their family lives here, so it makes sense that they put a lot of work into making it perfect. It also makes sense, I guess, that they missed being in the city with their friends and their church and - well, everything else that doesn't exist out in the rural country. But MAN. If I owned this place I don't think I could ever leave.
Disclaimer: I may be changing my tune in a week or so, if I myself run out of things to do. But that doesn't spoil the awe for now. It IS beautiful, no two ways about it.
Anyway, the drive today was very nice. I spent the first 3/4's with Carole in her car (we took two, as they apparently usually do) and then we stopped at the Ulster-American Folk Museum. After eating sandwiches in the cars (it was too cold to go outside), Carole drove on alone to get the house ready, and Ray, the boys and myself went to the museum. Although the place inCLUDED a museum, "museum" really isn't the right word for it. It's more like a park - it was HUGE. The idea of it is to show what real Northern Ireland was like in the 1800's, pre- and post-famine, and also to show what became of the emigrants who went to America. So the first half of the park was set up with original Irish country houses, complete with people dressed in costume who took great pride in discussing the histories and stories of the land. There were houses, churches, schools, and shops of all kinds. Then you go down to the "dock" (which is inside a building), and board a ship bound for America. The man who was playing Captain today was quite chatty... he must have talked to us for a good half hour. Escape was futile. Ray remarked later that we were lucky to get away with me - five more minutes and I may have been kidnapped by an overly-friendly seaman. Oh, ha, it also is worth remarking about the weather: while we were exploring historic Ireland, the weather was (as I mentioned) freezing cold and fairly dark with clouds. But miraculously, when we stepped out of the ship and into the streets of historic New England, the sun came out and it was actually quite warm! The change in location felt so real that I don't think Mark fully understood the fact that the weather had simply changed... as he removed his jumper (sorry, his jacket) he said with complete sincerity, "No wonder people say it's so hot in America! I'm roasting!" So we wandered through the streets of old New England for awhile, visiting some shops and houses and bars and post offices. It's funny - I didn't notice the differences between American homes and Irish homes while we were looking at the Irish ones, but as soon as we came to "America", I was noticing every difference with fondness. From the types of spices hung in the kitchens to the shape of the chimneys, the wooden roofs instead of straw ones, the log fences instead of stone walls, the rugged feel of the old west rather than the strict simplicity of the famine houses. The boys kept pointing out things that were "weird" about the American houses; but even though I knew the houses were only models, and that I obviously wasn't really in America, I felt strangely closer to home.
Also, whenever I see a map of America someplace, I can't resist pointing out where I live. And last night when I was talking to a girl from Canada, I distinctly noticed myself getting all bristly when she was talking about American things that don't make sense.
I guess I really am an American. What a fabulous thing.
Anyway - wow, my eyes are closing and it's not even 10:00. Nothing else really happened today, aside from all that. We arrived here around dinner time, since it was about another hour from the museum/park. And I've spent the past four hours being generally amazed and overwhelmed every time I look around the room or (and especially) out the window. Tomorrow's Sunday, and church doesn't start until noon. How glorious! You know what else is glorious? My birthday's in a week. :D Yay for how "19" sounds older than "18".
I'm going to go to bed and dream about buying my own plot of Donegal land.
But more importantly, the matter of "here". OH MY GOODNESS. DAHHHHH. I don't even know what to say about Donegal. And I haven't even seen that much - just what we drove through, and the house where I'm staying now. But I'm completely overwhelmed by the beauty here. Their house here is HUGE! I wasn't counting on it being like this. It's beautiful, fully furnished and decorated, and the west-facing side of the house is full of windows that look out on an INCREDIBLE view of an ocean inlet. From their lovely yard, a path goes down to the very edge of the country. The water looks more like a lake than an ocean, I guess, but this whole area of Donegal is made of small peninsulas; the water is blue and clean and salty and calm and beautiful. And the other three sides of the house are surrounded by hills. Also, their neighbors have sheep! Sheep with baby sheep! They're so cute! But this place. Agh. As soon as we got here I walked down to the seaside (which is pebbly and rocky and reedy, not sandy like our beaches), trying to reconcile the fact that people can actually live every-day lives in places like this. I still don't understand that. I do feel a more creative "click" here than any other place I've been to in the country, though, so maybe some good writing will come out of it. Unfortunately there's not really a path that goes along the perimeter of the inlet - it's all separated by people's fences and property lines. So I can't really go on walks around it that way... but I'll do some exploring, and figure something out.
Okay, I was just googling this part of Donegal to see if I could give you an appropriate picture of what it's like. I'm not sure exactly where in the county this image comes from, but this is pretty much what the drive/this area looks like:
The house itself just knocks me out. My room is the only one downstairs (late night kitchen raids? bwahaha) and it's an "en suite" room, too. The family originally built this house to move into it permanently, because all of their family lives here, so it makes sense that they put a lot of work into making it perfect. It also makes sense, I guess, that they missed being in the city with their friends and their church and - well, everything else that doesn't exist out in the rural country. But MAN. If I owned this place I don't think I could ever leave.
Disclaimer: I may be changing my tune in a week or so, if I myself run out of things to do. But that doesn't spoil the awe for now. It IS beautiful, no two ways about it.
Anyway, the drive today was very nice. I spent the first 3/4's with Carole in her car (we took two, as they apparently usually do) and then we stopped at the Ulster-American Folk Museum. After eating sandwiches in the cars (it was too cold to go outside), Carole drove on alone to get the house ready, and Ray, the boys and myself went to the museum. Although the place inCLUDED a museum, "museum" really isn't the right word for it. It's more like a park - it was HUGE. The idea of it is to show what real Northern Ireland was like in the 1800's, pre- and post-famine, and also to show what became of the emigrants who went to America. So the first half of the park was set up with original Irish country houses, complete with people dressed in costume who took great pride in discussing the histories and stories of the land. There were houses, churches, schools, and shops of all kinds. Then you go down to the "dock" (which is inside a building), and board a ship bound for America. The man who was playing Captain today was quite chatty... he must have talked to us for a good half hour. Escape was futile. Ray remarked later that we were lucky to get away with me - five more minutes and I may have been kidnapped by an overly-friendly seaman. Oh, ha, it also is worth remarking about the weather: while we were exploring historic Ireland, the weather was (as I mentioned) freezing cold and fairly dark with clouds. But miraculously, when we stepped out of the ship and into the streets of historic New England, the sun came out and it was actually quite warm! The change in location felt so real that I don't think Mark fully understood the fact that the weather had simply changed... as he removed his jumper (sorry, his jacket) he said with complete sincerity, "No wonder people say it's so hot in America! I'm roasting!" So we wandered through the streets of old New England for awhile, visiting some shops and houses and bars and post offices. It's funny - I didn't notice the differences between American homes and Irish homes while we were looking at the Irish ones, but as soon as we came to "America", I was noticing every difference with fondness. From the types of spices hung in the kitchens to the shape of the chimneys, the wooden roofs instead of straw ones, the log fences instead of stone walls, the rugged feel of the old west rather than the strict simplicity of the famine houses. The boys kept pointing out things that were "weird" about the American houses; but even though I knew the houses were only models, and that I obviously wasn't really in America, I felt strangely closer to home.
Also, whenever I see a map of America someplace, I can't resist pointing out where I live. And last night when I was talking to a girl from Canada, I distinctly noticed myself getting all bristly when she was talking about American things that don't make sense.
I guess I really am an American. What a fabulous thing.
Anyway - wow, my eyes are closing and it's not even 10:00. Nothing else really happened today, aside from all that. We arrived here around dinner time, since it was about another hour from the museum/park. And I've spent the past four hours being generally amazed and overwhelmed every time I look around the room or (and especially) out the window. Tomorrow's Sunday, and church doesn't start until noon. How glorious! You know what else is glorious? My birthday's in a week. :D Yay for how "19" sounds older than "18".
I'm going to go to bed and dream about buying my own plot of Donegal land.
Friday, March 30, 2012
A full day
The brevity of this post will make up for my long-windedness yesterday. It's about 1 AM here, and we leave for Donegal at 10. And I still have to pack. AND I want to upload my pictures of Limerick to facebook because heaven knows when I'll be able to upload pictures next, and I want to unload my camera. Buh. Sleep and I are not going to be close friends tonight.
Anyway - today was a really really good day. I got into Dublin around 1:30, got a bit lost, but eventually found the church (I've only ever driven there with the Speers - it's a bit different when you have to walk a half hour from the DART station on your own). It was a little awkward at first, because the manager had only just been informed an hour before my arrival that I was coming - I thought it had all been set up before, and that they WANTED me there for that shift... but apparently not. In any case, she was very nice about it and introduced me to the kids and all. I think she was a bit skeptical of me at first, which I can understand... I felt kind of awkward coming in, almost unexpectedly, and just expecting to be given a job. But I have to say - I don't want to toot my own horn - but I'm fabulous with kids. Particularly in the 3 to 6 range, which was the group I was put with. Five minutes in and I had them ALL talking to me, telling me jokes, laughing at mine, doing puzzles with me, jumping around... but the best part was when I read them a story during their "tea" time. (Not sure why the staff calls it tea time... the kids had waffles and water.) None of them ate while I read - they were so into watching me. When I finished they all wanted to run and get me another book. I read all throughout their mealtime, and then for about a half hour afterward. Of course it wasn't the whole group listening the whole time, but I had a pretty constant stream of two or three kids the whole afternoon. By the end of it they were even cuddling up next to me. After 5:30, when they'd all gone and I was helping the staff ladies clean up, the manager came up to me and said, "Now Laura, I don't mean to put you on the spot... but if you ever want to come back again..."
Heh. :)
I stuck around the church for the International Cafe, which I enjoyed immensely once again. No getting volunteered for expedition leadership this time, though. I attended the pre-cafe Bible study, which I could write a lot about but probably won't... for a few reasons, mainly that I'm tired. It was interesting though, and I was glad to be there. There were a lot of surprisingly interesting and difficult topics raised. We were reading Mark 8 and 9, particularly focusing on the part about Jesus telling his disciples to pick up their crosses and follow Him. So we got questions ranging from "What does it mean to pick up your cross?" to "What does He mean by 'whoever tries to save his life will lose it'?" to "What happens to people who have never heard about God?" to "Was the story about Adam and Eve real, or was it a metaphor - and who wrote it?" and "What does it mean to have a relationship with God?" There was only one leader there to lead the study, and I really didn't want to butt in, being the new-kid... but she asked what I thought a few times so I got to answer some. Yeah. It was interesting.
The cafe itself was really fun again. I sat at a table where I didn't know anyone, and presently realized that I was sitting next to the Japanese girl from two weeks ago (the one who couldn't say "clap"), and one of the guys who came to the parade with me. The fellow on my other side asked me if I was French. That, coupled with Kate's declaration on skype last week that I've developed a North Dakotan accent, has made me feel very insecure about my speech. Oh, also, while we were eating, my Japanese friend again pointed out that I sit very straight while I eat - and soon I had a table full of Asians trying to imitate me.
Anyway, it was a good day and I was probably more sociable and outgoing today than I've been in a week at least. It felt good.
I'm gonna go pack now, and then see about uploading those pictures. I keep trying to take the time to upload them onto here, but it's just such an annoying uploader to work with! Anyway, I'll try again, if I have a connection in Donegal. We'll see. Until I have internet connection again, then, I bid you all adieu.
Anyway - today was a really really good day. I got into Dublin around 1:30, got a bit lost, but eventually found the church (I've only ever driven there with the Speers - it's a bit different when you have to walk a half hour from the DART station on your own). It was a little awkward at first, because the manager had only just been informed an hour before my arrival that I was coming - I thought it had all been set up before, and that they WANTED me there for that shift... but apparently not. In any case, she was very nice about it and introduced me to the kids and all. I think she was a bit skeptical of me at first, which I can understand... I felt kind of awkward coming in, almost unexpectedly, and just expecting to be given a job. But I have to say - I don't want to toot my own horn - but I'm fabulous with kids. Particularly in the 3 to 6 range, which was the group I was put with. Five minutes in and I had them ALL talking to me, telling me jokes, laughing at mine, doing puzzles with me, jumping around... but the best part was when I read them a story during their "tea" time. (Not sure why the staff calls it tea time... the kids had waffles and water.) None of them ate while I read - they were so into watching me. When I finished they all wanted to run and get me another book. I read all throughout their mealtime, and then for about a half hour afterward. Of course it wasn't the whole group listening the whole time, but I had a pretty constant stream of two or three kids the whole afternoon. By the end of it they were even cuddling up next to me. After 5:30, when they'd all gone and I was helping the staff ladies clean up, the manager came up to me and said, "Now Laura, I don't mean to put you on the spot... but if you ever want to come back again..."
Heh. :)
I stuck around the church for the International Cafe, which I enjoyed immensely once again. No getting volunteered for expedition leadership this time, though. I attended the pre-cafe Bible study, which I could write a lot about but probably won't... for a few reasons, mainly that I'm tired. It was interesting though, and I was glad to be there. There were a lot of surprisingly interesting and difficult topics raised. We were reading Mark 8 and 9, particularly focusing on the part about Jesus telling his disciples to pick up their crosses and follow Him. So we got questions ranging from "What does it mean to pick up your cross?" to "What does He mean by 'whoever tries to save his life will lose it'?" to "What happens to people who have never heard about God?" to "Was the story about Adam and Eve real, or was it a metaphor - and who wrote it?" and "What does it mean to have a relationship with God?" There was only one leader there to lead the study, and I really didn't want to butt in, being the new-kid... but she asked what I thought a few times so I got to answer some. Yeah. It was interesting.
The cafe itself was really fun again. I sat at a table where I didn't know anyone, and presently realized that I was sitting next to the Japanese girl from two weeks ago (the one who couldn't say "clap"), and one of the guys who came to the parade with me. The fellow on my other side asked me if I was French. That, coupled with Kate's declaration on skype last week that I've developed a North Dakotan accent, has made me feel very insecure about my speech. Oh, also, while we were eating, my Japanese friend again pointed out that I sit very straight while I eat - and soon I had a table full of Asians trying to imitate me.
Anyway, it was a good day and I was probably more sociable and outgoing today than I've been in a week at least. It felt good.
I'm gonna go pack now, and then see about uploading those pictures. I keep trying to take the time to upload them onto here, but it's just such an annoying uploader to work with! Anyway, I'll try again, if I have a connection in Donegal. We'll see. Until I have internet connection again, then, I bid you all adieu.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Encounters Interesting, Enlightening, and Awkward.
I really need to write when I'm not falling asleep.
ALRIGHT. Wake up, Laura. So I didn't say much about yesterday, but it was a really nice day. I really just wandered around most of the time. Not being very familiar with the place myself. I kind of followed the crowds until I got my bearings - which meant that, soon after getting off the train, the take-away Fish and Chips place across from the harbor seemed like a really good idea. Thinking back on it, after they'd taken too much of my money, it probably wasn't - but oh well. I'm such a cheap-skate with my money, it's probably okay to indulge myself every once in a while - even if it IS for over-priced fast-food. Oh, haha, also - I was in line to order there, and there were still four or five people in front of me. A girl behind the counter suddenly looks at me and says, "Are you okay?" Confused, I ask, "Sorry?" "You okay?" she repeats. Still confused. I say, "Yeah...?" She raises an eyebrow. "You want to order?" "Oh."
So now you know - if you're ever ordering at a restaurant in Ireland, the question "are you okay" is not referring to your physical or emotional health. Apparently only Americans think about that where food is concerned.
So I got my food and took it down to the harbor, which was thronging with people. I sat in the sun on a bench along the docks, down the way a bit from a kid playing "9 Crimes" on his guitar. I immediately liked him, because Vince and I sang that song at the cafe night in Prague last summer, and even though it's a sad song, the memory made me happy. He sang a lot of other things, too - mostly very repetitive things - but it gave me something to enjoy while I ate. Eventually I got up and walked around the harbor, out to the end of the pier and back, and then I saw a pathway that led up and out to the peninsula's end, so I followed it. Mostly that was just a beautiful walk, although a few things of interest did happen. One of which comprised possibly the most awkward episode of the trip thus far...
So, I got to the top of a really beautiful hill over-looking the ocean, right? And it was a gorgeous view. There were other people up there, but there were so many different ridges and different levels that everyone basically had their own place and didn't really interact with anyone else. Mostly there were couples up there, but I did see one fellow on the very top of the hill who was stripped down to only his underwear, sun-bathing like a lizard on a rock. I climbed out to a nice little ledge and decided to try to get a picture of me and the view, via my camera's self-timer. So I set my camera on a rock, set the timer, and backed up to the edge of the cliff and posed. Click. Only, that picture didn't look good - so I tried it again. No go. I took several shots, but none of them looked good - either my head was blocking the island, or there was hair in my face, or I hadn't gotten posed in time... yeah. But I figured nobody could see me, so I didn't mind that I looked really dumb for awhile. Then, just as I gave up and was putting my camera away, I heard a voice. "Sorry? Excuse me?" I look up. Sun-bather is coming down the hill towards me, pulling on his shirt. "Would'ye like a hand there, with your camera? I noticed ye struggling..." HAHAHAHA. I suppose a normal person would have just said, "Oh, sure, thanks!" A normal person. Instead, I let out a ridiculous, "PAH!" followed quickly by, "Oh, um, thanks - that'd be really nice." He proceeded to take my picture, chat with me a bit, leave - and then come back five minutes later, asking if I wanted a picture with a different background. Oh man. Awkward moments.
So after that, I was pretty good with not taking myself too seriously. Which is good, because I'm pretty silly, generally speaking. I walked for a long while, but then it was after 6 o'clock and even though it was still light, I knew I should probably head back soon. Especially because the ride home takes an hour from Howth. As I stopped to fix my sock, I was passed by an elderly chap with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. "Heat getting to your feet!" he said, rather than asked. I wasn't quite sure what that meant, so I just laughed and said, "Yup." He asked where I was from, and I said California - and we talked about America vs. Ireland all the way down the mountain and into town. It's funny - the fellow I met on the last hike (Horse-Walker) was crazy about America. But not this guy. He couldn't get over how big and impersonal it is, although he says he'd love to get to Seattle or New England in the fall. (I totally agree with him there.) I'm trying to remember what else we talked about - he was a really interesting old chap, and very much into talking to foreigners. He told me that he asked everyone he met where they came from, because he was interested; one day, he said, he passed 75 people on a hike, and he asked each and every one of them where they came from. Four of them had been Irish. He also told me that every year, there are multiple suicides up on that cliff I'd just been on - once, he said, he was walking down the path (the very same one we were walking at the moment) towards evening time and a Lithuanian guy walked right past him and stepped straight off the edge. Just like that. There were some other disturbing stories that I'm not going to write down; but yeah. It just surprises me, I guess, how much other people have lived through and seen. Peoples lives are such interesting things to talk about.
As we reached the foot of the mountain, we passed by an elderly couple and Mr. Anti-America struck up a conversation with them. (This he did by remarking, "Nice day," listening to their responses, and asking the man, "What part of London do you come from?" Turned out the guy wasn't from London, although he was British. I forget what city he came from.) He introduced me as Miss California and the four of us walked along talking for awhile, until he found his car and left us. The couple - Maeve and Howard by name - were also taking the train, so we walked to town together, and then waited 25 minutes for the train, and then rode it together until they got off at O'Connelly... so I spent about an hour or more talking to them. She's Irish, he's British - they met because she worked for the army, as a nurse or a receptionist or something. She was a very chatty lady - I could fill a small book with all the places she told me I had to go on my visit. ("She didn't tell you she works for the tourist bureau, did she?" Howard remarked.) I really enjoyed them; it was a funny feeling, walking around town and riding a train with a couple of complete strangers, and feeling like I was their long-lost granddaughter or something. Howard asked me if I see a "hell of a difference in culture" between America and Ireland. I told him no, not really - except that European kids are far more independent than American ones. It's true, if you think about it - it's highly unusual for an American girl of 18 to go off to another country by herself, but in Europe, kids start doing that at 15 or 16. Maeve squinted up her eyes and said, "Well, you know what the only thing to be really afraid of is?" "What?" "Fear! It's just like crossing a road. If you fear it, you'll never get anywhere."
I was actually quite sad to see them go. In any case.... wow, that was a lot. That was YESTERDAY. I didn't really talk to anybody today, so my synopsis of that should be shorter. ;)
Ray and I were out the door by 7 AM, and he dropped me off at Arthur's Quay in Limerick at half-past nine. After walking around the river Shannon for awhile, I found my way across to King John's Castle. This time, I went inside. Yay! That was really cool. Although it was a little bit too touristy... the only part that felt very REAL was the inside of the original tours, where you go through spiral staircases past narrow-slitted windows (for archers!) and passage ways where the ceiling is low and strewn with cobwebs. Yuck. There was also an archaeological dig-sit, under the visitor center, where you go underground and look at original houses they've excavated, dating back to the 1100's. That was cool - though a bit claustrophobic and, well, dark. I went to the visitor's center and bought myself a beautiful pair of earrings, because Amelia told me to pick myself a birthday present from her. ;) So yay, now I have a lovely souvenir. Then I went to the Limerick Museum, which was cool, but not spectacular... aaaaaand then I went to St. Mary's Cathedral, which is the oldest building in Limerick (possibly Ireland?) that is still in daily use. It was started in the 1100's, also. That was a beautiful place. Not quite as beautiful as Christchurch, but still... for the 1100's. Impressive. Also, old graveyard surrounding the church! That was fabulous.
After that... I just kind of walked around for awhile, ate my sandwich, and then found a nice bench on the opposite side of the river to sit on for the next 3 or 4 hours. I wrote in my journal for awhile, and then I started "Breakfast at Tiffany's". And then for some reason part of the Shannon was being drained, so that by 5 o'clock a good part of the riverbed closest to me was exposed. So I went down and walked on the bottom of the river for awhile. I met Ray at the bus stop at 6, and we were home by 8:30 for a late dinner. Which brings us up to date!
Tomorrow is going to be fun, if I'm feeling well. Which means that I should probably get some sleep now... because I feel like I may be getting a fever. Ugh. Why can't I shake this lousy sickness?
Anyway. I hope all you Californians are having a good afternoon. I miss you all and think about you often. :)
ALRIGHT. Wake up, Laura. So I didn't say much about yesterday, but it was a really nice day. I really just wandered around most of the time. Not being very familiar with the place myself. I kind of followed the crowds until I got my bearings - which meant that, soon after getting off the train, the take-away Fish and Chips place across from the harbor seemed like a really good idea. Thinking back on it, after they'd taken too much of my money, it probably wasn't - but oh well. I'm such a cheap-skate with my money, it's probably okay to indulge myself every once in a while - even if it IS for over-priced fast-food. Oh, haha, also - I was in line to order there, and there were still four or five people in front of me. A girl behind the counter suddenly looks at me and says, "Are you okay?" Confused, I ask, "Sorry?" "You okay?" she repeats. Still confused. I say, "Yeah...?" She raises an eyebrow. "You want to order?" "Oh."
So now you know - if you're ever ordering at a restaurant in Ireland, the question "are you okay" is not referring to your physical or emotional health. Apparently only Americans think about that where food is concerned.
So I got my food and took it down to the harbor, which was thronging with people. I sat in the sun on a bench along the docks, down the way a bit from a kid playing "9 Crimes" on his guitar. I immediately liked him, because Vince and I sang that song at the cafe night in Prague last summer, and even though it's a sad song, the memory made me happy. He sang a lot of other things, too - mostly very repetitive things - but it gave me something to enjoy while I ate. Eventually I got up and walked around the harbor, out to the end of the pier and back, and then I saw a pathway that led up and out to the peninsula's end, so I followed it. Mostly that was just a beautiful walk, although a few things of interest did happen. One of which comprised possibly the most awkward episode of the trip thus far...
So, I got to the top of a really beautiful hill over-looking the ocean, right? And it was a gorgeous view. There were other people up there, but there were so many different ridges and different levels that everyone basically had their own place and didn't really interact with anyone else. Mostly there were couples up there, but I did see one fellow on the very top of the hill who was stripped down to only his underwear, sun-bathing like a lizard on a rock. I climbed out to a nice little ledge and decided to try to get a picture of me and the view, via my camera's self-timer. So I set my camera on a rock, set the timer, and backed up to the edge of the cliff and posed. Click. Only, that picture didn't look good - so I tried it again. No go. I took several shots, but none of them looked good - either my head was blocking the island, or there was hair in my face, or I hadn't gotten posed in time... yeah. But I figured nobody could see me, so I didn't mind that I looked really dumb for awhile. Then, just as I gave up and was putting my camera away, I heard a voice. "Sorry? Excuse me?" I look up. Sun-bather is coming down the hill towards me, pulling on his shirt. "Would'ye like a hand there, with your camera? I noticed ye struggling..." HAHAHAHA. I suppose a normal person would have just said, "Oh, sure, thanks!" A normal person. Instead, I let out a ridiculous, "PAH!" followed quickly by, "Oh, um, thanks - that'd be really nice." He proceeded to take my picture, chat with me a bit, leave - and then come back five minutes later, asking if I wanted a picture with a different background. Oh man. Awkward moments.
So after that, I was pretty good with not taking myself too seriously. Which is good, because I'm pretty silly, generally speaking. I walked for a long while, but then it was after 6 o'clock and even though it was still light, I knew I should probably head back soon. Especially because the ride home takes an hour from Howth. As I stopped to fix my sock, I was passed by an elderly chap with a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. "Heat getting to your feet!" he said, rather than asked. I wasn't quite sure what that meant, so I just laughed and said, "Yup." He asked where I was from, and I said California - and we talked about America vs. Ireland all the way down the mountain and into town. It's funny - the fellow I met on the last hike (Horse-Walker) was crazy about America. But not this guy. He couldn't get over how big and impersonal it is, although he says he'd love to get to Seattle or New England in the fall. (I totally agree with him there.) I'm trying to remember what else we talked about - he was a really interesting old chap, and very much into talking to foreigners. He told me that he asked everyone he met where they came from, because he was interested; one day, he said, he passed 75 people on a hike, and he asked each and every one of them where they came from. Four of them had been Irish. He also told me that every year, there are multiple suicides up on that cliff I'd just been on - once, he said, he was walking down the path (the very same one we were walking at the moment) towards evening time and a Lithuanian guy walked right past him and stepped straight off the edge. Just like that. There were some other disturbing stories that I'm not going to write down; but yeah. It just surprises me, I guess, how much other people have lived through and seen. Peoples lives are such interesting things to talk about.
As we reached the foot of the mountain, we passed by an elderly couple and Mr. Anti-America struck up a conversation with them. (This he did by remarking, "Nice day," listening to their responses, and asking the man, "What part of London do you come from?" Turned out the guy wasn't from London, although he was British. I forget what city he came from.) He introduced me as Miss California and the four of us walked along talking for awhile, until he found his car and left us. The couple - Maeve and Howard by name - were also taking the train, so we walked to town together, and then waited 25 minutes for the train, and then rode it together until they got off at O'Connelly... so I spent about an hour or more talking to them. She's Irish, he's British - they met because she worked for the army, as a nurse or a receptionist or something. She was a very chatty lady - I could fill a small book with all the places she told me I had to go on my visit. ("She didn't tell you she works for the tourist bureau, did she?" Howard remarked.) I really enjoyed them; it was a funny feeling, walking around town and riding a train with a couple of complete strangers, and feeling like I was their long-lost granddaughter or something. Howard asked me if I see a "hell of a difference in culture" between America and Ireland. I told him no, not really - except that European kids are far more independent than American ones. It's true, if you think about it - it's highly unusual for an American girl of 18 to go off to another country by herself, but in Europe, kids start doing that at 15 or 16. Maeve squinted up her eyes and said, "Well, you know what the only thing to be really afraid of is?" "What?" "Fear! It's just like crossing a road. If you fear it, you'll never get anywhere."
I was actually quite sad to see them go. In any case.... wow, that was a lot. That was YESTERDAY. I didn't really talk to anybody today, so my synopsis of that should be shorter. ;)
Ray and I were out the door by 7 AM, and he dropped me off at Arthur's Quay in Limerick at half-past nine. After walking around the river Shannon for awhile, I found my way across to King John's Castle. This time, I went inside. Yay! That was really cool. Although it was a little bit too touristy... the only part that felt very REAL was the inside of the original tours, where you go through spiral staircases past narrow-slitted windows (for archers!) and passage ways where the ceiling is low and strewn with cobwebs. Yuck. There was also an archaeological dig-sit, under the visitor center, where you go underground and look at original houses they've excavated, dating back to the 1100's. That was cool - though a bit claustrophobic and, well, dark. I went to the visitor's center and bought myself a beautiful pair of earrings, because Amelia told me to pick myself a birthday present from her. ;) So yay, now I have a lovely souvenir. Then I went to the Limerick Museum, which was cool, but not spectacular... aaaaaand then I went to St. Mary's Cathedral, which is the oldest building in Limerick (possibly Ireland?) that is still in daily use. It was started in the 1100's, also. That was a beautiful place. Not quite as beautiful as Christchurch, but still... for the 1100's. Impressive. Also, old graveyard surrounding the church! That was fabulous.
After that... I just kind of walked around for awhile, ate my sandwich, and then found a nice bench on the opposite side of the river to sit on for the next 3 or 4 hours. I wrote in my journal for awhile, and then I started "Breakfast at Tiffany's". And then for some reason part of the Shannon was being drained, so that by 5 o'clock a good part of the riverbed closest to me was exposed. So I went down and walked on the bottom of the river for awhile. I met Ray at the bus stop at 6, and we were home by 8:30 for a late dinner. Which brings us up to date!
Tomorrow is going to be fun, if I'm feeling well. Which means that I should probably get some sleep now... because I feel like I may be getting a fever. Ugh. Why can't I shake this lousy sickness?
Anyway. I hope all you Californians are having a good afternoon. I miss you all and think about you often. :)
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
This train is for: Howth. Binn Éadair.
I must have heard that a thousand times between Glenageary and Howth Station today on the hour-long ride. They mention that to you after every stop, and there are quite a few on the way! But it was great - I brought my ipod and settled into a cozy window seat on the train and enjoyed a few of my playlists. I listened to one that I made for last summer, because today was rather summery over here. Weird and wonderful, I hear, for March. Also, just so you know, I'm not one of those people who goes around with their earbuds in all the time. And it was three weeks before I even allowed myself to use it outside of my room, which I think is a pretty good accomplishment. But now that I'm accustomed to the sounds of Ireland, I think it's permissible to listen to my music on a long train ride or a hike when I'm alone.
I wish I could write as much as I want to right now, but I really should be asleep. It's 11 pm over here, and I need to wake up before 6. Ray is going to Limerick again for a meeting, and I'm going along for the ride! I don't have a tour or anything scheduled this time, but there were a few things around town that I wanted to see last time so now I have the chance. The wake-up time is just incredibly unfortunate... especially since I'm still not feeling 100%. Ah well. I can rest when we get to Donegal. (ON SATURDAY! YAY! I'm mostly excited about Donegal for two reasons: 1, because it's the "rugged" side of Ireland and the Giant's Causeway is nearby-ish, and 2, because our return from Donegal begins the second leg of my journey: the Europe-wandering with Kate leg of the journey! Yay!)
Anyway - yeah, I think I actually should just go to bed now and write about today tomorrow. It was a really nice day, and I met quite a collection of interesting people along the way. Howth (pronounced like "hope", but with a TH) is lovely, and today was such a hot, sunny day that everyone was out wearing shorts and t-shirts. I passed some beaches where they were even swimming! Quite remarkable, considering last week's rain and cool temperatures.
So this post really is just a sort of Coming-Soon post. I just don't like letting a day go by without writing SOMETHING, y'know? (Speaking of which, I may not have internet connection in Donegal... which means that I'll still be writing, but I'll have to post things at a later time and all at once. Like I did in the airports on the way here. Which is a pity, but ah well. People survived pre-wifi for many years.)
Goodnight, California. Have a good afternoon.
I wish I could write as much as I want to right now, but I really should be asleep. It's 11 pm over here, and I need to wake up before 6. Ray is going to Limerick again for a meeting, and I'm going along for the ride! I don't have a tour or anything scheduled this time, but there were a few things around town that I wanted to see last time so now I have the chance. The wake-up time is just incredibly unfortunate... especially since I'm still not feeling 100%. Ah well. I can rest when we get to Donegal. (ON SATURDAY! YAY! I'm mostly excited about Donegal for two reasons: 1, because it's the "rugged" side of Ireland and the Giant's Causeway is nearby-ish, and 2, because our return from Donegal begins the second leg of my journey: the Europe-wandering with Kate leg of the journey! Yay!)
Anyway - yeah, I think I actually should just go to bed now and write about today tomorrow. It was a really nice day, and I met quite a collection of interesting people along the way. Howth (pronounced like "hope", but with a TH) is lovely, and today was such a hot, sunny day that everyone was out wearing shorts and t-shirts. I passed some beaches where they were even swimming! Quite remarkable, considering last week's rain and cool temperatures.
So this post really is just a sort of Coming-Soon post. I just don't like letting a day go by without writing SOMETHING, y'know? (Speaking of which, I may not have internet connection in Donegal... which means that I'll still be writing, but I'll have to post things at a later time and all at once. Like I did in the airports on the way here. Which is a pity, but ah well. People survived pre-wifi for many years.)
Goodnight, California. Have a good afternoon.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
You were never at rest; you were always Somewhere-bound.
I've been listening to the album "The Family Tree - The Roots" by Radical Face (which is always going to be a strange name for a band, no matter how much I like them). It's pretty much been on repeat on my ipod all week. It's such a melancholy-sounding album, but it's so well done, and I love their lyrics. So much to do with traveling, in every sense of the word.
I forget if I wrote this yesterday, but I'm sick again. Not as bad as last time, but it's pretty lousy anyway. I'm starting to think that I ought to get my tonsils out when I get home - I get sore throats way too much. Thankfully there's no fever this time, though. In any case, it did stop me from going out again today; my alarm went off every half hour after eight o'clock, but I couldn't get out of bed until after 12. I felt pretty lousy. But get out of bed I did, and I spent the afternoon writing and reading and, well, not really doing much. I DID clean around the house, though - I've been taking over the nit-picky jobs that Carole wants done but doesn't have time for herself. (Which I totally get. When you have two young boys that you have to cart around all day and cook for, you don't really have time to dust every leaf of the massive plant in the living room.) So today I dusted and polished all the doors and banisters of the house. Well, all except two. I had to leave something for another day.
I'd hoped to go on another day-tour at Newgrange tomorrow (an massive and ancient passage tomb north of Dublin that's older than the pyramids), but I don't think I booked the tour in time. So I think I'll just ride a train for awhile and get off when it looks interesting. I've always wanted to do that.
(Okay, so it won't be quite that carefree... I've actually got a general idea of where I want to go. But it sounds cooler the other way. Artistic license and all that.)
So yeah, not much to report on the happenings of today. I was telling Mom this morning, I think the reason I'm having a hard time adjusting to life here is that I'm staying so actively in touch with life back at home. It's kind of like I'm splitting myself in half. It would be a lot easier to just commit to one or the other - I mean, to go home or else cut all ties for the time that I'm here and focus on actually being here. But I like writing too much; I like receiving emails; I like involving people in what's going on here and I like being involved in what's going on at home. Plus, if I can master doing both - being involved and present at home AND in Ireland - it'll be like I'm in two places at once. Which is kind of snazzy.
I'm not sure what made me think of that just now. But there you go.
I forget if I wrote this yesterday, but I'm sick again. Not as bad as last time, but it's pretty lousy anyway. I'm starting to think that I ought to get my tonsils out when I get home - I get sore throats way too much. Thankfully there's no fever this time, though. In any case, it did stop me from going out again today; my alarm went off every half hour after eight o'clock, but I couldn't get out of bed until after 12. I felt pretty lousy. But get out of bed I did, and I spent the afternoon writing and reading and, well, not really doing much. I DID clean around the house, though - I've been taking over the nit-picky jobs that Carole wants done but doesn't have time for herself. (Which I totally get. When you have two young boys that you have to cart around all day and cook for, you don't really have time to dust every leaf of the massive plant in the living room.) So today I dusted and polished all the doors and banisters of the house. Well, all except two. I had to leave something for another day.
I'd hoped to go on another day-tour at Newgrange tomorrow (an massive and ancient passage tomb north of Dublin that's older than the pyramids), but I don't think I booked the tour in time. So I think I'll just ride a train for awhile and get off when it looks interesting. I've always wanted to do that.
(Okay, so it won't be quite that carefree... I've actually got a general idea of where I want to go. But it sounds cooler the other way. Artistic license and all that.)
So yeah, not much to report on the happenings of today. I was telling Mom this morning, I think the reason I'm having a hard time adjusting to life here is that I'm staying so actively in touch with life back at home. It's kind of like I'm splitting myself in half. It would be a lot easier to just commit to one or the other - I mean, to go home or else cut all ties for the time that I'm here and focus on actually being here. But I like writing too much; I like receiving emails; I like involving people in what's going on here and I like being involved in what's going on at home. Plus, if I can master doing both - being involved and present at home AND in Ireland - it'll be like I'm in two places at once. Which is kind of snazzy.
I'm not sure what made me think of that just now. But there you go.
Monday, March 26, 2012
My cartoon thought-bubble
I tell ya. I should be in excellent shape after this trip.
My poor feet, though. Yesterday the shoes that I wore to church gave me horrendous blisters - we're talking blood drawn, folks - and this morning when I went to put on shoes, my feet cried out in rebellion. Luckily it was warm enough out, so I didn't feel completely stupid for wearing sandals when everyone else is still wearing boots and snow-jackets. Such a California girl - I know. (I still wore a jacket and scarf, though, and wasn't cold throughout at all. My feet just felt slightly self-conscious to be so exposed in a land where, frankly, I'm not sure if anyone HAS toes. I've not seen evidence of them, anyway.) Still, even though my sandals hurt less than my tennis shoes or boots, they still hurt... so I'm not sure what I'm gonna do tomorrow. I may take another easy day tomorrow, and maybe use cleaning as an excuse to go around barefoot. Hmmm.
Anywho. Shoes and blisters aside, today was really good. I got up early (here meaning 8:30...) and got on a train a bit after 11, city-center bound. I went to the Google headquarters of Europe and met the girl from church who works there. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I want to work for Google. I know I'm not an engineer or anything, but come on, there must be something?! COOLEST WORKPLACE EVER! I was dying. First of all, we had lunch in the cafeteria - which is a ridiculous amount of food, desert and coffee all for free. She said that the company provides so much for their employees because it makes them work better; I think it's because Google is run by a band of kindly magicians. After lunch she gave me a tour (I got a cool little visitor sticker with my name on it and had to promise that I wouldn't sell secrets and everything) of all the different floors. When I was younger, I wanted to be an interior designer - and today my childhood self was going wild with all of the ridiculously amazing things in that building. Every floor has a different theme - so different decoration, different color schemes, different rooms of AWESOMENESS that are there purely to de-stress the floor's inhabitants. Example: a massage room, a library (not a work-oriented library - a library that is build like a mini-Long Room Library [the heavenly one at Trinity College], purely for the relaxation and joy of the literary types), cafes/bars on each floor (FREE), and a music room - complete with drum kit, guitars, and keyboard. I asked if there was a practical purpose for these rooms. She said that the rooms are there purely for the employees to enjoy whenever they need to de-stress and take a break. There are also random lounges, telephone boxes (you go in and close curtains all around from the inside, so you're in your own little world), and these amazing chairs* - the backs and sides of the chair go up 4 or 5 feet above the seat cushion, so you're almost completely closed off from the busy office. Basically, an introverts heaven.
* Actually, when I was very young, I once invented a chair just like that. Sitting in the front pew at church used to make me really nervous, because I felt like everyone was watching the back of my head and seeing every move that I made. So one Sunday I invented (in my head) a chair that completely blocked you from the view of everyone except the pastor. Of course, this was also at the time when I wasn't sure if cartoon thought-bubbles were real or not, and I hated the idea of everyone who sat behind me being able to see my thoughts. So that chair of mine would really come in handy.
Anyway... so clearly I was very impressed with the place. Perhaps even a bit obsessed now. I'm strongly considering re-taking up an interest in interior design, at any rate.
After the tour, we went with some of her colleagues down a few blocks to a fantastic coffee shop. (Cheapest cup of coffee I've bought here, and by far the best.) There we parted ways, and I wanted over to the city-center. First I went to the National Gallery again - because, well, it's free entry there and I had to use the restroom. haha. I planned to go right back out afterward, but on the way into the museum I had a chat with the doorman, and I knew he'd recognize me if I walked back out five minutes later... so I found a wing of the gallery that I hadn't seen before (shame on me for missing it the first time!) and enjoyed that for awhile. Eventually I figured it was okay to go back out, so I did, and headed toward the Liffey. I walked all the way up O'Connell Street and passed the Garden of Remembrance - and it was open today! So I hung out there for awhile, too. It was such a lovely afternoon out that a lot of people were there; which I think is kinda cool. I mean it's cool that people go to hang out in a place that's dedicated to the people who died for the freedom of future generations. It's kind of like saying "thank you" every time. Most people probably don't read that much into it anymore - but I thought it was nice, anyway.
Then, finally, I made it to the Writers Museum. That was really fantastic - lots of cool books and letters and photographs and paintings. Also, typewriters, death-masks, suits, and James Joyce's piano (which I touched - HA). Although, it was a weird thing about that museum - when you walk in, they give you these things that look like telephones and whenever you come to a case or a plaque, you push a button on the phone and it gives you information about it. Except it actually annoyed me more than anything - I was trying to READ the things and these peoples voices kept saying different things in my ear. I mean, I know you can pause it and all... I don't know why it annoyed me so much, but it did. So I stopped listening after awhile and just looked on my own. (I'm better at learning that way by now.) Definitely a cool place, though. OH! Okay, the one cool thing about the phone things was that I got to listen to James Joyce reading a part of one of his stories (I forget what it was... I hadn't heard of it before). I listened to it twice, just because I couldn't get over how lyrical and strong and somehow hilarious his accent was. It was marvelous.
At 5 I had to leave the museum, but it was still so sunny and pleasant out (what a change comes when we put our clocks forward an hour! It's weird how suddenly the days get longer. Like the world just turned a corner or something.) and I didn't feel like going home just yet. So I walked down the center island of O'Connell Street and found a side of the O'Connell Monument that wasn't occupied by anybody. So I climbed up a few steps and sat on the platform, sheltered from the wind and a good deal of pedestrian traffic, and doodled a bit in my journal. It was nice to just sit there, feeling safe and secluded in the middle of a place that's so full of action. Sort of like cuddling up in a chair with high walls, in the middle of an office or a church or a school. Present, but invisible. How nice.
After awhile I walked across town, boarded a train, almost fell asleep on the train, and then walked back to the house where dinner was waiting for me in the microwave. So yeah. Nice day. :) Now to figure out how to get Google to hire me.
My poor feet, though. Yesterday the shoes that I wore to church gave me horrendous blisters - we're talking blood drawn, folks - and this morning when I went to put on shoes, my feet cried out in rebellion. Luckily it was warm enough out, so I didn't feel completely stupid for wearing sandals when everyone else is still wearing boots and snow-jackets. Such a California girl - I know. (I still wore a jacket and scarf, though, and wasn't cold throughout at all. My feet just felt slightly self-conscious to be so exposed in a land where, frankly, I'm not sure if anyone HAS toes. I've not seen evidence of them, anyway.) Still, even though my sandals hurt less than my tennis shoes or boots, they still hurt... so I'm not sure what I'm gonna do tomorrow. I may take another easy day tomorrow, and maybe use cleaning as an excuse to go around barefoot. Hmmm.
Anywho. Shoes and blisters aside, today was really good. I got up early (here meaning 8:30...) and got on a train a bit after 11, city-center bound. I went to the Google headquarters of Europe and met the girl from church who works there. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I want to work for Google. I know I'm not an engineer or anything, but come on, there must be something?! COOLEST WORKPLACE EVER! I was dying. First of all, we had lunch in the cafeteria - which is a ridiculous amount of food, desert and coffee all for free. She said that the company provides so much for their employees because it makes them work better; I think it's because Google is run by a band of kindly magicians. After lunch she gave me a tour (I got a cool little visitor sticker with my name on it and had to promise that I wouldn't sell secrets and everything) of all the different floors. When I was younger, I wanted to be an interior designer - and today my childhood self was going wild with all of the ridiculously amazing things in that building. Every floor has a different theme - so different decoration, different color schemes, different rooms of AWESOMENESS that are there purely to de-stress the floor's inhabitants. Example: a massage room, a library (not a work-oriented library - a library that is build like a mini-Long Room Library [the heavenly one at Trinity College], purely for the relaxation and joy of the literary types), cafes/bars on each floor (FREE), and a music room - complete with drum kit, guitars, and keyboard. I asked if there was a practical purpose for these rooms. She said that the rooms are there purely for the employees to enjoy whenever they need to de-stress and take a break. There are also random lounges, telephone boxes (you go in and close curtains all around from the inside, so you're in your own little world), and these amazing chairs* - the backs and sides of the chair go up 4 or 5 feet above the seat cushion, so you're almost completely closed off from the busy office. Basically, an introverts heaven.
* Actually, when I was very young, I once invented a chair just like that. Sitting in the front pew at church used to make me really nervous, because I felt like everyone was watching the back of my head and seeing every move that I made. So one Sunday I invented (in my head) a chair that completely blocked you from the view of everyone except the pastor. Of course, this was also at the time when I wasn't sure if cartoon thought-bubbles were real or not, and I hated the idea of everyone who sat behind me being able to see my thoughts. So that chair of mine would really come in handy.
Anyway... so clearly I was very impressed with the place. Perhaps even a bit obsessed now. I'm strongly considering re-taking up an interest in interior design, at any rate.
After the tour, we went with some of her colleagues down a few blocks to a fantastic coffee shop. (Cheapest cup of coffee I've bought here, and by far the best.) There we parted ways, and I wanted over to the city-center. First I went to the National Gallery again - because, well, it's free entry there and I had to use the restroom. haha. I planned to go right back out afterward, but on the way into the museum I had a chat with the doorman, and I knew he'd recognize me if I walked back out five minutes later... so I found a wing of the gallery that I hadn't seen before (shame on me for missing it the first time!) and enjoyed that for awhile. Eventually I figured it was okay to go back out, so I did, and headed toward the Liffey. I walked all the way up O'Connell Street and passed the Garden of Remembrance - and it was open today! So I hung out there for awhile, too. It was such a lovely afternoon out that a lot of people were there; which I think is kinda cool. I mean it's cool that people go to hang out in a place that's dedicated to the people who died for the freedom of future generations. It's kind of like saying "thank you" every time. Most people probably don't read that much into it anymore - but I thought it was nice, anyway.
Then, finally, I made it to the Writers Museum. That was really fantastic - lots of cool books and letters and photographs and paintings. Also, typewriters, death-masks, suits, and James Joyce's piano (which I touched - HA). Although, it was a weird thing about that museum - when you walk in, they give you these things that look like telephones and whenever you come to a case or a plaque, you push a button on the phone and it gives you information about it. Except it actually annoyed me more than anything - I was trying to READ the things and these peoples voices kept saying different things in my ear. I mean, I know you can pause it and all... I don't know why it annoyed me so much, but it did. So I stopped listening after awhile and just looked on my own. (I'm better at learning that way by now.) Definitely a cool place, though. OH! Okay, the one cool thing about the phone things was that I got to listen to James Joyce reading a part of one of his stories (I forget what it was... I hadn't heard of it before). I listened to it twice, just because I couldn't get over how lyrical and strong and somehow hilarious his accent was. It was marvelous.
At 5 I had to leave the museum, but it was still so sunny and pleasant out (what a change comes when we put our clocks forward an hour! It's weird how suddenly the days get longer. Like the world just turned a corner or something.) and I didn't feel like going home just yet. So I walked down the center island of O'Connell Street and found a side of the O'Connell Monument that wasn't occupied by anybody. So I climbed up a few steps and sat on the platform, sheltered from the wind and a good deal of pedestrian traffic, and doodled a bit in my journal. It was nice to just sit there, feeling safe and secluded in the middle of a place that's so full of action. Sort of like cuddling up in a chair with high walls, in the middle of an office or a church or a school. Present, but invisible. How nice.
After awhile I walked across town, boarded a train, almost fell asleep on the train, and then walked back to the house where dinner was waiting for me in the microwave. So yeah. Nice day. :) Now to figure out how to get Google to hire me.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon
Well, no mountain-climbing today. We went to church, enjoyed a really good sermon, and headed back to soup and sandwiches. I haven't really done anything this afternoon, and the family all had various things to go to - so I played Carole's guitar a bit, and I've spent the rest of the time up here writing. I did get signed on for some more church activities this week, though, which is good. I'll be spending Thursday morning and Friday afternoon volunteering at the daycare that the church is in charge of, and Friday night I'm planning to get back to the International Cafe. I also got invited to lunch by one of the girls at church (the American, 6 years an Irishgirl), so I may do that tomorrow... aaaaaaand Wednesday... I think I'll try to set up another tour to someplace. So yeah. I'll be out and about quite a bit this week. I figured I might as well get it all in now, while the weather is so nice - especially since we leave for Donegal on Saturday!
Not quite sure what I'll do up there. Probably some walks to the beach, accompanied by a lot of time spent indoors reading and writing, if it rains as much as I hear that it does.
I may write later, if something interesting occurs to me... but I think I may just go read a bit. Church just started back at home; it's weird, I keep such good track of what time it is in California that I feel like I'm living in two different places. Funny ol' world.
Not quite sure what I'll do up there. Probably some walks to the beach, accompanied by a lot of time spent indoors reading and writing, if it rains as much as I hear that it does.
I may write later, if something interesting occurs to me... but I think I may just go read a bit. Church just started back at home; it's weird, I keep such good track of what time it is in California that I feel like I'm living in two different places. Funny ol' world.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
"I DON'T BRAY."
*That line was stuck in my head all day. I just had to put it out there.
Today was a very pleasant day. I slept in again - it's becoming a bit of a habit, I'm afraid - and I wasn't really feeling Dublin too much. (Never thought I'd say that.) But the thought occurred to me in the shower that I could just go to the beach again and illustrate pictures for the short story I wrote yesterday. That sounded really nice, so I went down to breakfast, feeling quite pleased with myself. As I entered the kitchen, Carole said, "It's a lovely day out, Laura!" I saw that she was right - the sky was clear, the window was open and the air that was coming into the house felt WARM for the first time all month. Almost immediately after, Ray poked his head in (he was working with Mark in the garden) and said, "You're missing a beautiful day out, Laura." Alright, alright. I said I was thinking of going to Dun Laoghaire again, and Carole told me that I ought to go to Bray, because there's a lovely walk along the beach there. Although my cozy plan of drawing on a familiar rock on a familiar beach had sounded nice, this one sounded better - it WAS far too nice a day out to spend looking down at paper. So I ate breakfast, waited around for lunch and ate that, and headed out the door.
Oh - that reminds me. On the way to the DART station I dropped off some postcards for the family in the mail... so you guys should be getting those in a few weeks.
The town of Bray itself isn't much to talk about - kind of grungy, actually. But as soon as you get out of all the streets and buildings and get to the sand (I should say rocks), it's lovely. There's a long, wide stretch of pavement that runs parallel to the shoreline and everyone and their mother was out on it today. So I hopped the little rail and walked on the beach, down by the water. There's not much sand on the beach there, but they have nice rocks and I found quite a bit of sea glass. Eventually the beach stopped and the rocks were replaced by the side of an enormous hill - so I decided to climb it. Apparently the "hill" is Bray Head, and I was wearing completely the wrong shoes... but I didn't know that until I was already near the top. Well, first of all I followed the path and hoped that it was the one that went to the top. It was a nice path, one that sloped only gently, and went along the cliffside overlooking the sea. It was beautiful! So I walked on that for a long while... and a while longer... and then I saw a sign for Greystones, which is the next town. I think I'd followed that path for about 4 kilometers. So I turned around and walked 4 kilometers back, and turned left. THEN I found the path to the top of Bray Head - which isn't wide, sloping, or gentle. By this time I'd taken out my ipod though, and The Decemberists make great seaside-climbing music. (I thought of listening to them because the train-stop before Bray was Shankill. As in, Butchers.) So I was quite enjoying myself. There was a man walking ahead of me, and after awhile he struck up a conversation with me about my being an American, and how he had lived in America for four years, walking race horses. Normally I try to avoid talking to strangers - I've always been a bit paranoid, I guess - but this guy didn't bother me. It was actually really interesting hearing about the horse-racing business - even if he was a bit too angry about all the Polish guys that kept stealing his jobs. Also, the government taxes. And how much better America is than Ireland, because Ireland is boring and has too many Poles. I guess he was a bit tangenty.
The way up was quite treacherous, actually - it was either very rocky or very muddy. (I actually slipped on the way back down, but I wasn't hurt.) The fellow told me that the key thing to remember when traveling anywhere is to bring the right footwear - and then pointed out that my "slippers" (my tennis shoes...) will be the death of me. I certainly hope he's wrong...
Eventually we got to the top, and boy, what a view! There's a massive cross at the top, too, which was cool. It kind of reminded me of the hill with the cross in Ventura. It was really neat seeing the county from the opposite side - normally I see Dalkey Island on the southern horizon, but today it was as far north as I could see.
On the way back down, my horse-walking friend commented on the fact that most people won't have a conversation with a stranger. He said that most people he tries to talk to leave as fast as they can, and that it was nice that he could have a normal conversation with me. Which made me feel kind of bad - because even though I didn't mind talking to him, I was always very aware of our surroundings and I made sure that I could always see another hiker either in front of or behind us. And I'd lied when he asked what city I was staying in. (Which was stupid of me, really, because there are so many people in this county that it doesn't matter whether they know your city or not.) And then he found the parking lot with his car, said "good luck", and went off.
I guess I'd rather be safe than sorry, but I think I AM a bit too suspicious of people, generally speaking. There are so many interesting people with interesting stories - especially in busy counties like Dublin. It makes sense that people are interested in learning about each other.
ANYWAY. By the time I got to the beach again, it was after 5. I walked around there for a bit more, because the crowd had thinned out and the water had drawn back so that I could walk on what sand was there. The weather all day was just so pleasant - it was the first time I've gone out without feeling cold once. If there's another day like today, I may go back - even if it's just to sit on the beach and read. It was lovely.
Well. I should go to bed now, because tonight is spring-forward night for US. So now I'll be 8 hours ahead of California again. If I'm not mistaken, this upcoming Monday will be my fourth away from home. Is that right? That's ridiculous. I mean, I can't say that it feels either longer or shorter than that... but still, the fact is weird. Okay. Goodnight, everybody. Enjoy your Saturday. :)
Today was a very pleasant day. I slept in again - it's becoming a bit of a habit, I'm afraid - and I wasn't really feeling Dublin too much. (Never thought I'd say that.) But the thought occurred to me in the shower that I could just go to the beach again and illustrate pictures for the short story I wrote yesterday. That sounded really nice, so I went down to breakfast, feeling quite pleased with myself. As I entered the kitchen, Carole said, "It's a lovely day out, Laura!" I saw that she was right - the sky was clear, the window was open and the air that was coming into the house felt WARM for the first time all month. Almost immediately after, Ray poked his head in (he was working with Mark in the garden) and said, "You're missing a beautiful day out, Laura." Alright, alright. I said I was thinking of going to Dun Laoghaire again, and Carole told me that I ought to go to Bray, because there's a lovely walk along the beach there. Although my cozy plan of drawing on a familiar rock on a familiar beach had sounded nice, this one sounded better - it WAS far too nice a day out to spend looking down at paper. So I ate breakfast, waited around for lunch and ate that, and headed out the door.
Oh - that reminds me. On the way to the DART station I dropped off some postcards for the family in the mail... so you guys should be getting those in a few weeks.
The town of Bray itself isn't much to talk about - kind of grungy, actually. But as soon as you get out of all the streets and buildings and get to the sand (I should say rocks), it's lovely. There's a long, wide stretch of pavement that runs parallel to the shoreline and everyone and their mother was out on it today. So I hopped the little rail and walked on the beach, down by the water. There's not much sand on the beach there, but they have nice rocks and I found quite a bit of sea glass. Eventually the beach stopped and the rocks were replaced by the side of an enormous hill - so I decided to climb it. Apparently the "hill" is Bray Head, and I was wearing completely the wrong shoes... but I didn't know that until I was already near the top. Well, first of all I followed the path and hoped that it was the one that went to the top. It was a nice path, one that sloped only gently, and went along the cliffside overlooking the sea. It was beautiful! So I walked on that for a long while... and a while longer... and then I saw a sign for Greystones, which is the next town. I think I'd followed that path for about 4 kilometers. So I turned around and walked 4 kilometers back, and turned left. THEN I found the path to the top of Bray Head - which isn't wide, sloping, or gentle. By this time I'd taken out my ipod though, and The Decemberists make great seaside-climbing music. (I thought of listening to them because the train-stop before Bray was Shankill. As in, Butchers.) So I was quite enjoying myself. There was a man walking ahead of me, and after awhile he struck up a conversation with me about my being an American, and how he had lived in America for four years, walking race horses. Normally I try to avoid talking to strangers - I've always been a bit paranoid, I guess - but this guy didn't bother me. It was actually really interesting hearing about the horse-racing business - even if he was a bit too angry about all the Polish guys that kept stealing his jobs. Also, the government taxes. And how much better America is than Ireland, because Ireland is boring and has too many Poles. I guess he was a bit tangenty.
The way up was quite treacherous, actually - it was either very rocky or very muddy. (I actually slipped on the way back down, but I wasn't hurt.) The fellow told me that the key thing to remember when traveling anywhere is to bring the right footwear - and then pointed out that my "slippers" (my tennis shoes...) will be the death of me. I certainly hope he's wrong...
Eventually we got to the top, and boy, what a view! There's a massive cross at the top, too, which was cool. It kind of reminded me of the hill with the cross in Ventura. It was really neat seeing the county from the opposite side - normally I see Dalkey Island on the southern horizon, but today it was as far north as I could see.
On the way back down, my horse-walking friend commented on the fact that most people won't have a conversation with a stranger. He said that most people he tries to talk to leave as fast as they can, and that it was nice that he could have a normal conversation with me. Which made me feel kind of bad - because even though I didn't mind talking to him, I was always very aware of our surroundings and I made sure that I could always see another hiker either in front of or behind us. And I'd lied when he asked what city I was staying in. (Which was stupid of me, really, because there are so many people in this county that it doesn't matter whether they know your city or not.) And then he found the parking lot with his car, said "good luck", and went off.
I guess I'd rather be safe than sorry, but I think I AM a bit too suspicious of people, generally speaking. There are so many interesting people with interesting stories - especially in busy counties like Dublin. It makes sense that people are interested in learning about each other.
ANYWAY. By the time I got to the beach again, it was after 5. I walked around there for a bit more, because the crowd had thinned out and the water had drawn back so that I could walk on what sand was there. The weather all day was just so pleasant - it was the first time I've gone out without feeling cold once. If there's another day like today, I may go back - even if it's just to sit on the beach and read. It was lovely.
Well. I should go to bed now, because tonight is spring-forward night for US. So now I'll be 8 hours ahead of California again. If I'm not mistaken, this upcoming Monday will be my fourth away from home. Is that right? That's ridiculous. I mean, I can't say that it feels either longer or shorter than that... but still, the fact is weird. Okay. Goodnight, everybody. Enjoy your Saturday. :)
Friday, March 23, 2012
Crisps
Today was a terribly uneventful day. I was up until after 2 AM, talking with the folks at home about Kate and my trip... and then reading a bit... (why do I never go to bed when I can?! Stupid stupid stupid.) So I slept in until almost 11 this morning. All morning I debated with myself whether or not to go to the International Cafe tonight... Pros: it's a bit of social life that only comes once a week, and I enjoyed last week. Cons: I was dead tired all day, the weather was dreary, I'd have to ride the DART and walk the rest of the way and then beg a ride off of someone to the DART station afterward, and then walk home the rest of the way around 11 PM, and I'd kind of had enough of the busy city streets of Dublin after spending the whole day there yesterday. So I could either go to Dublin again in the evening, or stay around the house and take care of dull important things (while staying in comfy cozy clothes).
Guess which option won?
So I didn't even go outside today. Which sounds lame, but I think it was actually the right thing to do, all things considered. I helped Carole with some spring cleaning, worked on some more scheduling/planning stuff for the England/Paris trip, read a little bit, and wrote a short story. Yay for writing!! This was the first thing I've written (aside from a few poems) this whole time. So I'm happy with that.
I'm not sure what I'll do tomorrow. I do know that I can't let myself slip into having comfy-cozy-home days EVERY day... that happens sometimes at home if I'm feeling lazy and there's nowhere that I HAVE to be. But I don't want to look back on my trip to Ireland with fond memories of hanging out in my room.
Still... I've been realizing that there's no need to really force myself to be out and about every second. Because that can get kind of boring, too, if it's done just for the sake of BEING out and about. Also, expensive.
I'm still hungry, by the way. I don't understand it - Carole makes amazing dinners and the amount I'm given really should be enough. But without fail, every night about an hour or two after we eat, I'm craving something crunchy and salty. Okay, so I guess I'm craving chips. (And by that I mean American chips. Crisps, according to the Irish. Because here, "chips" mean French fries. HAHA, the first time I wrote "French fires"...) So Kate, if you could just bring a few bags of potato chips and some onion dip along with you...
;)
I'm really looking forward to next month. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, because this area really is beautiful and I've loved it so far... but I kind of feel like I've seen it all. It would probably be different if I had somebody with me, but so far as going around by myself goes... been there done that. You know?
I should try to get a good night's sleep tonight. The only thing I can think of to do tomorrow is to go back to Dublin and see the Writers Museum. And... I guess we'll go from there. K. Goodnight, folks.
Guess which option won?
So I didn't even go outside today. Which sounds lame, but I think it was actually the right thing to do, all things considered. I helped Carole with some spring cleaning, worked on some more scheduling/planning stuff for the England/Paris trip, read a little bit, and wrote a short story. Yay for writing!! This was the first thing I've written (aside from a few poems) this whole time. So I'm happy with that.
I'm not sure what I'll do tomorrow. I do know that I can't let myself slip into having comfy-cozy-home days EVERY day... that happens sometimes at home if I'm feeling lazy and there's nowhere that I HAVE to be. But I don't want to look back on my trip to Ireland with fond memories of hanging out in my room.
Still... I've been realizing that there's no need to really force myself to be out and about every second. Because that can get kind of boring, too, if it's done just for the sake of BEING out and about. Also, expensive.
I'm still hungry, by the way. I don't understand it - Carole makes amazing dinners and the amount I'm given really should be enough. But without fail, every night about an hour or two after we eat, I'm craving something crunchy and salty. Okay, so I guess I'm craving chips. (And by that I mean American chips. Crisps, according to the Irish. Because here, "chips" mean French fries. HAHA, the first time I wrote "French fires"...) So Kate, if you could just bring a few bags of potato chips and some onion dip along with you...
;)
I'm really looking forward to next month. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, because this area really is beautiful and I've loved it so far... but I kind of feel like I've seen it all. It would probably be different if I had somebody with me, but so far as going around by myself goes... been there done that. You know?
I should try to get a good night's sleep tonight. The only thing I can think of to do tomorrow is to go back to Dublin and see the Writers Museum. And... I guess we'll go from there. K. Goodnight, folks.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Also missed:
15. American ice cream.
16. Salty late night snacks. DARNIT I MISS THOSE RIGHT NOW.
17. Ballroom dancing.
16. Salty late night snacks. DARNIT I MISS THOSE RIGHT NOW.
17. Ballroom dancing.
Sheer awe.
If Sunday was the most beautiful day-trip thus far, today was by far the coolest.
I got an early-ish start, and was out the door by 11, and in the city center by a quarter to 12. For the first time I DIDN'T get lost coming out of Pearse Station (for some reason I can usually never tell which direction to head toward when I come up from that station...), and I made my way to Trinity College. Good heavens. I don't even want to attempt writing about today because it's too difficult... BUT. The public awaits. (paha... sorry. Self-important moment is now finished.) But really, it IS difficult. I followed the signs labeled "BOOK OF KELLS" into the library gift shop, where I studied the over-priced knick-knacks for awhile before purchasing my ticket and going into the exhibition. It was all very well laid out; before coming to the Book itself, you go through a maze of rooms describing the history of the book (and other illuminated manuscripts of note), and then the description of how such things are made and why, and then the technical de-coding of the pages on display. They show you what to look for; like how any time "Jesus said" or "I say" is written, that word is strongly emphasized; or how you can tell which scribe did what on the page, judging by how complex it is, or how colorful, etc. And they show you what each icon on the pages means, so that even though you can't read the Latin, you can get the gist of what the page says. Then you come to a little room in the back with a huge glass case...
The binding on the Book of Kells has long since been broken, so the pages were put into two stacks so that two pages were on display - one to show a picture and the other to show text. Every day they turn a page; today the text was Mark 6:3-15. And the picture page was open to the most famous one: an entire page dedicated to Jesus' name, with a bunch of small images alongside it. It was really amazing.
After studying that for awhile, I went upstairs, turned a corner, and stopped dead. I wish I could have taken pictures of the Old Library - but on second thought, pictures wouldn't have done it justice anyway. I can't really describe that room, or even why it made me feel the way it did - it was just incredibly... incredible. Even just the sheer expanse of the room; the length, but also the vaulted ceilings made of dark wooden arches. The bookshelves that reached up as high as you could turn your neck; the light that came in through the long windows, bathing the covers of books that are hundreds of years old in the early afternoon glow. The white marble busts of all the literary Greats of history. The smell. THE SMELL! AGH. I probably looked really stupid, just standing there in the middle of the doorway, staring ahead of me. I'm not even kidding - my heart was literally pounding. (A library WOULD do that to me...) You really just can't imagine such a reverent, awe-inspiring place until you stand inside of one.
After walking up and down the library about five times, it was time to pull myself away. So I left the campus (campus. Pf. Can you imagine going to SCHOOL THERE?!) and crossed over to Grafton Street for some shopping. I managed to spend a lot of money, somehow, and all I have for myself is a little stack of second-hand books. Hmph. I need at least a key-chain before I go. I brought a key-chain in Prague that had a picture of Charles Bridge on it, but the picture has worn away and now I just have a key-chain with a plain metal oval at the end of it. Lesson learned: get key-chains with engravings or raised surfaces - not just ink.
Anyway. After shopping and a heinously over-priced lunch at a Dublin fast-food place, I wound my way down to Christ Church Cathedral. I was there before, but for whatever reason I didn't go inside. So I did today - the fare for getting in was a pleasant surprise, by the way... only 3 euro for students! That's another one that's tough to describe. It's a truly magnificent cathedral - everything you look at just takes your breath away. And it's so old! And still so perfect! It IS kind of weird how everything in Roman Catholic churches is dedicated to/commissioned by/in memory of somebody or other, though. I think church-goers would be much more able to focus on God when they see the beautiful interior if somebody else's name wasn't written on it.
All of that aside - BEAUTIFUL place. I wish all churches looked like it.
I walked back along the Liffey then, crossed over, and walked up O'Connell Street. It was strange to see it so (relatively) empty, after being one of the half-million who turned up there on St. Patrick's Day. I went up there looking for the Dublin Writers Museum, but had a rather difficult time finding it. I found the Garden of Remembrance, though, which was dedicated to the Irish men and women who were killed during the revolts of 1916 and onward. (OH! Another reason the Old Library was amazing: it had one of the 12 remaining copies of the Irish Declaration of Independence that got the ball rolling toward their freedom. And I got to read it. Pretty darn cool.) Unfortunately the garden was gated off (I'm not sure when it IS open), but I sat down next to the fence for about a half hour, just looking at the garden and listening to all the different languages of the tourist groups that passed me by. At 5:00 I stood up to walk back down to Pearse, and then - duh. The Writers Museum was right across the street. Everything closes at 5, though, so I'll just have to go back some other time. I felt pretty stupid after that, though. Oh well... at least I got to rest my feet.
It was quite a walk back to Pearse Station, and then I had to stand in the train because I have a habit of heading back JUST as the 9-to-5 crowd is fleeing the workplace... which means that I have lots of company on the journey back home. They're all very well-dressed, though, I'll say that for them. Ahem. Anyway.
Dinner was just ready when I got back, white brings us pretty much up to date. One thing that was nice - Carole told me that Mark said to her, "Laura took great care of me." without even being asked about it. That made me feel pretty special. :)
And tomorrow's Friday. I have no idea what to do with it... I've seen pretty much everything that I'd planned to see in Dublin (darned Writers Museum excluded)... and I'm a bit tired of Dalkey and Dun Laoghaire for the time being. Hm. Well, I'll sleep on it.
Have a good afternoon, everybody. Read a good old book for me. :)
I got an early-ish start, and was out the door by 11, and in the city center by a quarter to 12. For the first time I DIDN'T get lost coming out of Pearse Station (for some reason I can usually never tell which direction to head toward when I come up from that station...), and I made my way to Trinity College. Good heavens. I don't even want to attempt writing about today because it's too difficult... BUT. The public awaits. (paha... sorry. Self-important moment is now finished.) But really, it IS difficult. I followed the signs labeled "BOOK OF KELLS" into the library gift shop, where I studied the over-priced knick-knacks for awhile before purchasing my ticket and going into the exhibition. It was all very well laid out; before coming to the Book itself, you go through a maze of rooms describing the history of the book (and other illuminated manuscripts of note), and then the description of how such things are made and why, and then the technical de-coding of the pages on display. They show you what to look for; like how any time "Jesus said" or "I say" is written, that word is strongly emphasized; or how you can tell which scribe did what on the page, judging by how complex it is, or how colorful, etc. And they show you what each icon on the pages means, so that even though you can't read the Latin, you can get the gist of what the page says. Then you come to a little room in the back with a huge glass case...
The binding on the Book of Kells has long since been broken, so the pages were put into two stacks so that two pages were on display - one to show a picture and the other to show text. Every day they turn a page; today the text was Mark 6:3-15. And the picture page was open to the most famous one: an entire page dedicated to Jesus' name, with a bunch of small images alongside it. It was really amazing.
After studying that for awhile, I went upstairs, turned a corner, and stopped dead. I wish I could have taken pictures of the Old Library - but on second thought, pictures wouldn't have done it justice anyway. I can't really describe that room, or even why it made me feel the way it did - it was just incredibly... incredible. Even just the sheer expanse of the room; the length, but also the vaulted ceilings made of dark wooden arches. The bookshelves that reached up as high as you could turn your neck; the light that came in through the long windows, bathing the covers of books that are hundreds of years old in the early afternoon glow. The white marble busts of all the literary Greats of history. The smell. THE SMELL! AGH. I probably looked really stupid, just standing there in the middle of the doorway, staring ahead of me. I'm not even kidding - my heart was literally pounding. (A library WOULD do that to me...) You really just can't imagine such a reverent, awe-inspiring place until you stand inside of one.
After walking up and down the library about five times, it was time to pull myself away. So I left the campus (campus. Pf. Can you imagine going to SCHOOL THERE?!) and crossed over to Grafton Street for some shopping. I managed to spend a lot of money, somehow, and all I have for myself is a little stack of second-hand books. Hmph. I need at least a key-chain before I go. I brought a key-chain in Prague that had a picture of Charles Bridge on it, but the picture has worn away and now I just have a key-chain with a plain metal oval at the end of it. Lesson learned: get key-chains with engravings or raised surfaces - not just ink.
Anyway. After shopping and a heinously over-priced lunch at a Dublin fast-food place, I wound my way down to Christ Church Cathedral. I was there before, but for whatever reason I didn't go inside. So I did today - the fare for getting in was a pleasant surprise, by the way... only 3 euro for students! That's another one that's tough to describe. It's a truly magnificent cathedral - everything you look at just takes your breath away. And it's so old! And still so perfect! It IS kind of weird how everything in Roman Catholic churches is dedicated to/commissioned by/in memory of somebody or other, though. I think church-goers would be much more able to focus on God when they see the beautiful interior if somebody else's name wasn't written on it.
All of that aside - BEAUTIFUL place. I wish all churches looked like it.
I walked back along the Liffey then, crossed over, and walked up O'Connell Street. It was strange to see it so (relatively) empty, after being one of the half-million who turned up there on St. Patrick's Day. I went up there looking for the Dublin Writers Museum, but had a rather difficult time finding it. I found the Garden of Remembrance, though, which was dedicated to the Irish men and women who were killed during the revolts of 1916 and onward. (OH! Another reason the Old Library was amazing: it had one of the 12 remaining copies of the Irish Declaration of Independence that got the ball rolling toward their freedom. And I got to read it. Pretty darn cool.) Unfortunately the garden was gated off (I'm not sure when it IS open), but I sat down next to the fence for about a half hour, just looking at the garden and listening to all the different languages of the tourist groups that passed me by. At 5:00 I stood up to walk back down to Pearse, and then - duh. The Writers Museum was right across the street. Everything closes at 5, though, so I'll just have to go back some other time. I felt pretty stupid after that, though. Oh well... at least I got to rest my feet.
It was quite a walk back to Pearse Station, and then I had to stand in the train because I have a habit of heading back JUST as the 9-to-5 crowd is fleeing the workplace... which means that I have lots of company on the journey back home. They're all very well-dressed, though, I'll say that for them. Ahem. Anyway.
Dinner was just ready when I got back, white brings us pretty much up to date. One thing that was nice - Carole told me that Mark said to her, "Laura took great care of me." without even being asked about it. That made me feel pretty special. :)
And tomorrow's Friday. I have no idea what to do with it... I've seen pretty much everything that I'd planned to see in Dublin (darned Writers Museum excluded)... and I'm a bit tired of Dalkey and Dun Laoghaire for the time being. Hm. Well, I'll sleep on it.
Have a good afternoon, everybody. Read a good old book for me. :)
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Thus Daedalus flew
Well, today was another laid back day of walking 'round town; I didn't end up getting to Dublin today after all. I slept in late(er), and then I helped Carole with some cleaning around the house. By then it was 1:00 and it wouldn't have been worth it to spend 3 hours in city, so I promised myself to wake up earlier tomorrow and spend the day at Trinity College and Christ Church Cathedral, and whatever else I come across that looks promising.
So today, instead of Dublin, I walked around the very small town center of Dalkey. I went into every gallery and shop that I could find (that wasn't a cafe or bar), but got terribly bored after about an hour because there's realllllly not much to do there. Although I did find another bookshop that I spent the proper amount of time in. Resolute that I couldn't spend the rest of the afternoon inside a house, and acutely aware of the fact that I'd run out of things to do in the immediate vicinity, I went back to Killiney Hill. As I walked up, I realized that I'd gone there for the first time exactly two weeks ago - it was on my first whole day in Dalkey. Oddly enough, on that day I also wandered through the village of Dalkey. Funny how history repeats itself. It was FREEZING up on the hilltop today, though less windy than before. The weather here was just generally gloomy today - hopefully tomorrow will be better. So I hung out up there for awhile, nestled into a cove of the Killiney Obelisk (eye-catching folly that it is), enjoying a well-deserved apple that I'd packed in my jacket pocket. I also took a panoramic video of the view while singing Mr. Roger's "It's Such a Good Feeling" for Kate. Look for it on itunes.*
*Heaven forbid.
I babysat the boys tonight while Ray and Carole were out celebrating their anniversary (which was yesterday). We played the kids version of Cranium (the game the four of us Muellers used to be obsessed with) and then I put them down to bed. I gave Aaron his space, because he's a bit too old to be tucked in by a non-blood related girl, but when I asked Mark if he could read his nightly Bible story by himself or if he'd like me to read it to him, he responded, "Ummm, probably..." So that's what I did. I was touched to be included in the nightly tucking-in of the little fellow who added me into his family prayer.
Other than all of that, I've been spending a ton of time looking up ticket prices for all of the various transportation devices that I'll be using in the next two months. It's really inconvenient, not having a car...
Well, I should probably try to get a good night's sleep so that tomorrow isn't a repeat of today. I've seen Dalkey and Dun Laoghaire... I've walked every inch of them, it seems. Dublin is getting familiar, but I still count much of it as unexplored terrain - so. Onward ho!
So today, instead of Dublin, I walked around the very small town center of Dalkey. I went into every gallery and shop that I could find (that wasn't a cafe or bar), but got terribly bored after about an hour because there's realllllly not much to do there. Although I did find another bookshop that I spent the proper amount of time in. Resolute that I couldn't spend the rest of the afternoon inside a house, and acutely aware of the fact that I'd run out of things to do in the immediate vicinity, I went back to Killiney Hill. As I walked up, I realized that I'd gone there for the first time exactly two weeks ago - it was on my first whole day in Dalkey. Oddly enough, on that day I also wandered through the village of Dalkey. Funny how history repeats itself. It was FREEZING up on the hilltop today, though less windy than before. The weather here was just generally gloomy today - hopefully tomorrow will be better. So I hung out up there for awhile, nestled into a cove of the Killiney Obelisk (eye-catching folly that it is), enjoying a well-deserved apple that I'd packed in my jacket pocket. I also took a panoramic video of the view while singing Mr. Roger's "It's Such a Good Feeling" for Kate. Look for it on itunes.*
*Heaven forbid.
I babysat the boys tonight while Ray and Carole were out celebrating their anniversary (which was yesterday). We played the kids version of Cranium (the game the four of us Muellers used to be obsessed with) and then I put them down to bed. I gave Aaron his space, because he's a bit too old to be tucked in by a non-blood related girl, but when I asked Mark if he could read his nightly Bible story by himself or if he'd like me to read it to him, he responded, "Ummm, probably..." So that's what I did. I was touched to be included in the nightly tucking-in of the little fellow who added me into his family prayer.
Other than all of that, I've been spending a ton of time looking up ticket prices for all of the various transportation devices that I'll be using in the next two months. It's really inconvenient, not having a car...
Well, I should probably try to get a good night's sleep so that tomorrow isn't a repeat of today. I've seen Dalkey and Dun Laoghaire... I've walked every inch of them, it seems. Dublin is getting familiar, but I still count much of it as unexplored terrain - so. Onward ho!
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sleep comes too slowly.
I'm not patient enough. :]
So here's something. As much fun as I'm having here, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't miss certain things about home. Aside from my family and friends, obviously, here are the things that have crossed my mind more than once, nostalgic-fashion.
1. Coffee Bean at the harbor
2. In-n-Out
3. Chipotle! (Like how these are all food?)
4. Sunday afternoons in my house
5. Playing the guitar
6. Driving
7. Listening to music in my car
8. How my cat sleeps at the foot of my bed and keeps my feet warm (they tend to get cold here...)
9. The colors on my bedroom walls (everything here is white!)
10. Mime
11. Hanging out with Amelia at one of our houses, and borrowing each other's comfy clothes. Because that's what friends do - they make each other comfy and cozy and make them amazing cups of coffee in specially chosen mugs that reflect their moods.
12. Late night drives through the hills overlooking town
13. Not having to depend on public transportation!
14. Making a pot of coffee
Yawn. More to come some other night when I can't sleep. ;)
So here's something. As much fun as I'm having here, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't miss certain things about home. Aside from my family and friends, obviously, here are the things that have crossed my mind more than once, nostalgic-fashion.
1. Coffee Bean at the harbor
2. In-n-Out
3. Chipotle! (Like how these are all food?)
4. Sunday afternoons in my house
5. Playing the guitar
6. Driving
7. Listening to music in my car
8. How my cat sleeps at the foot of my bed and keeps my feet warm (they tend to get cold here...)
9. The colors on my bedroom walls (everything here is white!)
10. Mime
11. Hanging out with Amelia at one of our houses, and borrowing each other's comfy clothes. Because that's what friends do - they make each other comfy and cozy and make them amazing cups of coffee in specially chosen mugs that reflect their moods.
12. Late night drives through the hills overlooking town
13. Not having to depend on public transportation!
14. Making a pot of coffee
Yawn. More to come some other night when I can't sleep. ;)
Rocks, Teddy's, Baguettes and Deaf Cats
Today was a nice day. I got a late start - due to some emails, ticket researches, reading, and some "hoovering" (meaning vacuuming)... but I was out the door at 1:30, headed toward the seafront. Yesterday in the car park (parking lot...) of Glendalough, the boys got ice cream and they kept comparing it to "Teddy's". Teddy's is an ice cream stand in Dun Laoghaire harbor that is apparently quite popular. So then for the rest of the day I was wondering how good it really was, and I'd been meaning to go back to Dun Laoghaire ANYWAY... so that's what I did. First I walked to the beach and sat on a comfy rock (really - it was remarkable how comfortable I was there, wedged between two big boulders at the seaside) and read for an hour. Then I realized that I couldn't feel my hands, because it was FREEZING... so I got up and walked another 15-20 minutes to the harbor, and got my Teddy's ice cream. (I know, ice cream when I'm already cold. But as Carole said yesterday, if you wait for a warm day to eat ice cream, nobody would ever buy any.) So I found a nice rock wall to sit on down over the water, ate my ice cream, and then headed into the nearby town for some souvenir shopping. Unfortunately, the only shops there were really department stores and cafes... so I didn't buy any presents for anybody. I did, however, wander into a second hand bookshop and buy 3 books for myself. (At dinner while I was recounting my adventures, Mark asked if there was such a thing as a "one handed bookshop". hahaha) I considered walking back to Dalkey Village and popping into the shops THERE, but by then it was almost 5 and that's when everything closes. So, I walked back toward the Speers' house and stopped off at the neighborhood grocery store to draw out some more money from the ATM machine. I also bought a baguette and at it on the street corner, before heading home for the evening.
Tomorrow I'm going to head back to Dublin. Over the past few days I've been doing a lot of researching/planning for the upcoming weeks, and I really don't have that much more time in this part of Ireland! On the 31st we go up to Donegal, and a few days after we get back in mid-April, I'll be going to England and France. Kate and I also decided to go to Cork/Blarney for two days (spending one night in a B&B) when we get back. After that it'll be about 3 days until we fly home. Heavens. It all seems so ridiculously short when viewed in little pieces and parts like that.
I'm hungry. For about a week I wasn't at all, but now I'm hungry ALL THE TIME. It's bad.
Oh, one last thing: While Carole and I were watching CSI tonight - well, during a commercial break - she told me that this evening, during bedtime prayers with Mark, he included me in his prayers for his family. "Daddy, Mummy, Aaron, Laura, and Cassie." (Cassie the deaf cat.) I feel quite honored to have made it above the cat - according to Carole, a person's placement on Mark's hierarchy of prayer is quite telling. Oh, and he also prayed that my parents wouldn't be feeling too lonely without me. I wanted to run up and kiss his head when I heard that.
Well, I'm unusually tired this evening. So even though it's only 12:20, I'm gonna shut everything off and count "One, two" until I fall asleep. Have a good evening, CA.
Tomorrow I'm going to head back to Dublin. Over the past few days I've been doing a lot of researching/planning for the upcoming weeks, and I really don't have that much more time in this part of Ireland! On the 31st we go up to Donegal, and a few days after we get back in mid-April, I'll be going to England and France. Kate and I also decided to go to Cork/Blarney for two days (spending one night in a B&B) when we get back. After that it'll be about 3 days until we fly home. Heavens. It all seems so ridiculously short when viewed in little pieces and parts like that.
I'm hungry. For about a week I wasn't at all, but now I'm hungry ALL THE TIME. It's bad.
Oh, one last thing: While Carole and I were watching CSI tonight - well, during a commercial break - she told me that this evening, during bedtime prayers with Mark, he included me in his prayers for his family. "Daddy, Mummy, Aaron, Laura, and Cassie." (Cassie the deaf cat.) I feel quite honored to have made it above the cat - according to Carole, a person's placement on Mark's hierarchy of prayer is quite telling. Oh, and he also prayed that my parents wouldn't be feeling too lonely without me. I wanted to run up and kiss his head when I heard that.
Well, I'm unusually tired this evening. So even though it's only 12:20, I'm gonna shut everything off and count "One, two" until I fall asleep. Have a good evening, CA.
Monday, March 19, 2012
"I was looking up."
Deborah Kerr's voice saying, "It was the nearest thing to Heaven!" was on repeat in my head all afternoon. Oh my goodness. Glendalough, Sally Gap, the Wicklow Mountains... I didn't even try to take pictures after awhile. My mind was too blown.
How ridiculous is creation? I can't even comprehend such beautiful places.
How ridiculous is creation? I can't even comprehend such beautiful places.
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
* I'm not at a wake. It's a song that makes me ridiculously happy.
Well hello! It's Monday morning(ish), and a bank holiday over here in Ireland. I'm not sure if this is because St. Patrick's Day was Saturday, or because Mother's Day was the next day... I've a feeling they might claim to be celebrating their mothers, but in actuality they need another day to sleep off the hangovers of Saturday.
Since it's a holiday today, the boys are out of school. I've heard talk of taking another day trip (possibly to Wicklow - YAY), but we're not going till after lunch. We may also be going on another hike (we went on quite a good one yesterday... my legs are still a little sore...). Yesterday's hike was beautiful, but I'm kinda tired - plus, I really want to get to Wicklow and public transportation there really isn't great. So if I could tag along with the family, that would be most premium. :) Speaking of yesterday's hike, it was so clear up there that we could see almost 90 miles, to the Mountains of Mourne on the coast of Northern Ireland! Also, if I really looked hard, I could see the coast of Wales out to the east. Whew. That was fabulous.
Anyway, so I'll write tonight or tomorrow about what we end up doing today. Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be nice. Most things here are.
Including church yesterday! I wasn't sure what to expect, because even though the people I met last week were really nice, I didn't get introduced to that many - and during fellowship time I kind of attached myself to Carole, because I didn't have anyone else to talk to. But yesterday was great; I actually was the last of the Speers clan to leave, because I kept getting caught in conversation. I met an elderly fellow who knew his Bible so well that he could lead a study in at least 25 languages, a couple who knows where Ventura County is because they took a train there once and left their luggage in San Francisco (where their daughter lives), a fellow who has lived here all his life and never gone to the St. Patrick's Day parade, an American (who's lived in Dublin for 6 years) who works with Google and, thus, avoids Facebook (and parades), a girl who was born in Finland, a head-honcho of Habitat for Humanity, an old man in a blue cardigan who told me that I brought the sunshine with me, and a man who went to school in California and got a side job with the Post Office, enabling him to know (off the top of his head) my zip code within one digit.
It was a nice morning.
OH! BIG NEWS. The girl I'd been planning to travel to France with actually can't come after all - so for a day I was thinking that I wouldn't be able to go, and I was super bummed about it. (I don't mind coming to Ireland alone, because it always felt a bit like home, even before I got here. But I don't feel quite so confident about France... or even England, really.) So I wrote my parents and told them where things stood, and asked for prayer. That evening, Dad wrote to me and said that my grandma had offered to pay for Kate to come to England and France WITH ME. And my lovely sister has sacrificially agreed. :) I'm so excited to wander around with her... it worked out even better this way! God is good.
Well. I'm going to try to figure out how to post some pictures on here, because I'm aware of the fact (because Mom keeps reminding me...) that many people who read this blog don't have Facebook. Just a warning to you, though, I can't upload very many on here... so if you REALLY want to see them all, bug my mom about getting on her Facebook with her. :) (You're welcome, Ma. hehe.)
It's a beautiful day over here, sunny for the second day in a row. The world is looking like such a nice place these days.
Well hello! It's Monday morning(ish), and a bank holiday over here in Ireland. I'm not sure if this is because St. Patrick's Day was Saturday, or because Mother's Day was the next day... I've a feeling they might claim to be celebrating their mothers, but in actuality they need another day to sleep off the hangovers of Saturday.
Since it's a holiday today, the boys are out of school. I've heard talk of taking another day trip (possibly to Wicklow - YAY), but we're not going till after lunch. We may also be going on another hike (we went on quite a good one yesterday... my legs are still a little sore...). Yesterday's hike was beautiful, but I'm kinda tired - plus, I really want to get to Wicklow and public transportation there really isn't great. So if I could tag along with the family, that would be most premium. :) Speaking of yesterday's hike, it was so clear up there that we could see almost 90 miles, to the Mountains of Mourne on the coast of Northern Ireland! Also, if I really looked hard, I could see the coast of Wales out to the east. Whew. That was fabulous.
Anyway, so I'll write tonight or tomorrow about what we end up doing today. Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be nice. Most things here are.
Including church yesterday! I wasn't sure what to expect, because even though the people I met last week were really nice, I didn't get introduced to that many - and during fellowship time I kind of attached myself to Carole, because I didn't have anyone else to talk to. But yesterday was great; I actually was the last of the Speers clan to leave, because I kept getting caught in conversation. I met an elderly fellow who knew his Bible so well that he could lead a study in at least 25 languages, a couple who knows where Ventura County is because they took a train there once and left their luggage in San Francisco (where their daughter lives), a fellow who has lived here all his life and never gone to the St. Patrick's Day parade, an American (who's lived in Dublin for 6 years) who works with Google and, thus, avoids Facebook (and parades), a girl who was born in Finland, a head-honcho of Habitat for Humanity, an old man in a blue cardigan who told me that I brought the sunshine with me, and a man who went to school in California and got a side job with the Post Office, enabling him to know (off the top of his head) my zip code within one digit.
It was a nice morning.
OH! BIG NEWS. The girl I'd been planning to travel to France with actually can't come after all - so for a day I was thinking that I wouldn't be able to go, and I was super bummed about it. (I don't mind coming to Ireland alone, because it always felt a bit like home, even before I got here. But I don't feel quite so confident about France... or even England, really.) So I wrote my parents and told them where things stood, and asked for prayer. That evening, Dad wrote to me and said that my grandma had offered to pay for Kate to come to England and France WITH ME. And my lovely sister has sacrificially agreed. :) I'm so excited to wander around with her... it worked out even better this way! God is good.
Well. I'm going to try to figure out how to post some pictures on here, because I'm aware of the fact (because Mom keeps reminding me...) that many people who read this blog don't have Facebook. Just a warning to you, though, I can't upload very many on here... so if you REALLY want to see them all, bug my mom about getting on her Facebook with her. :) (You're welcome, Ma. hehe.)
It's a beautiful day over here, sunny for the second day in a row. The world is looking like such a nice place these days.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
In Dublin's fair city
I can't believe it's only just after 9 in the morning in California. I've already braved the sea of green and gone to the Dublin City St. Patrick's Day Parade, and lived to tell the tale!
First of all, did I write yesterday? I don't forget. (HAHA, I meant to say "I don't remember." Wow. I'm tired.) I DID write. I wrote about the tour. Well, I went to the church event in the evening - which was the International Student's Cafe that people from the church put on. The idea is that so many students from other countries come to Ireland (Dublin especially) to learn English, and often they're lonely and looking for people to hang out with and practice English with and whatnot. So people from the church put on a "Cafe" every Friday night, and basically we just all eat a meal together and hang out and try to get to know the students. It's a brilliant idea, I think, and it was a ton of fun! There are theme nights sometimes, and last night's was Irish Night (due to the festivities of today). So we had Irish stew and live music, and (surprise surprise) "The Wild Rover" was the last song they played, so it's in my head again. I can't escape that song...
Anyway. I wasn't sure at all what to expect, but as I said, it was a ton of fun. I sat down at a table and soon had been introduced to a Japanese girl, a French girl, a German girl, and an Irish girl. Nearby tables had students from Korea, China, Panama, France, Japan, and more from Ireland. There was one other American, but he's one of the leaders. It was quite the diverse group, and it was nice to meet more people like myself who are away from home and wandering around Ireland for a few months. Also, funny story - at the end of the night as we were all saying goodbye, the Japanese girl came up to me and said, "I'm not sure how to say it in English... I want to give compliment. You have very straight back. While we were eating, we were all - like this -" (slouching) "- and you were so... straight! It's... it's nice." hahahaha. I told her that's a good compliment to give someone.
Oh, okay, also. I'm not being racist or anything, but this was just hilarious - you know in "The Wild Rover" how you clap four times during the chorus? Well, this same Japanese girl couldn't really get a handle on it so I was showing her when to clap, and from then on she kept referring to it as the "crap". I mean she was SAYING "clap", it just... didn't turn out to sound that way. hahahahaa.
Well! Hello. Just after I wrote that last paragraph, Aaron ran up and told me that the family was watching "The Adventures of Tintin" so I went and watched it with them. Then we had dinner... cleaned dinner up... and watched "Family Fortune" (the British equivalent of "Family Feud", although much more endearing and not as hideously annoying as the latter. Also, the host reminds me of Dick van Dyke). So now Ray and Carole are chasing the boys around, trying to get them into the bath so that they can go to bed. That's been going on for about twenty minutes... it's a bit quieter now, though, so perhaps there was some success.
ANYhow. A lot of students last night were talking about going to the parade today, and telling me that I should go and all that... even the IRISH people (who said they wouldn't dream of going, themselves) told me that I ought to go, as long as I was here. Until last night I really had no inclination to go - I hate crowds, especially drunken ones. But a few other people wanted to go, and the fellow who is in charge of the cafe asked for someone to volunteer to meet them at the church in the morning and lead them to O'Connell Street... and I was kind of coerced into raising my hand. So, suddenly, I had Saturday plans. Arrangements were made, and although I had no idea who or how many would show up, I was committed to be at the church at 11:00 sharp. On the way home, I realized how silly that was of me - I had no way of getting to the church, and no idea where to go once I got there. But it all worked out - I researched transportation systems and memorized maps, and this morning I took the tram (the Luas, as it's called here) and made my way through the crowd to the church, and waited there for a half hour (during which time I drew pictures in my sketchbook and whistled Mr. Rogers songs). Eventually a French girl and three Japanese fellows showed up, and we waked to O'Connell Street together.
We really should have met an hour earlier so that we could actually get a place near the front; the whole street was at least 5 people deep against the gates. But I had it better than my companions - at least I'm tall. :) So I could see most things as they passed by, and I got a few really good pictures. I don't know if I'm patient enough to post those to Facebook tonight... but maybe. Even Grafton Street, the pedestrian shopping area where Molly Malone lives, was packed full of interesting people - there was a guy dressed as a bronze statue (I actually thought it WAS a statue... FREAKED me out.), a few street musicians, some sculptors sculpting things out of sand, face-paint artists, and one fellow who was standing as if frozen in time. He'd starched his tie and jacket so that they were flying up and back, and he was completely frozen - really, truly impressive. As a mime, I have immense respect for that kind of control! The parade itself was lots of fun - the costumes and makeup were amazing. And actually the crowds weren't so bad, so long as you did't act pushy or impatient with anyone. When it was all over, I left my friends to enjoy the city and headed back to Dalkey on the rather crowded DART train. I think I just beat the real crowds, too - it was mid afternoon by then, and I was surprised to see how many people were heading INto the city as I was heading out. I bet tonight's quite loud down in the city center.
Long story short, I'm glad I got sort of trapped into going today - I'd definitely have kicked myself if I hadn't gone to the Dublin Parade the one time that I'm here for it. I do miss having corned beef and Guinness with the family, though... we'll have to save that for when I come home in May. :)
First of all, did I write yesterday? I don't forget. (HAHA, I meant to say "I don't remember." Wow. I'm tired.) I DID write. I wrote about the tour. Well, I went to the church event in the evening - which was the International Student's Cafe that people from the church put on. The idea is that so many students from other countries come to Ireland (Dublin especially) to learn English, and often they're lonely and looking for people to hang out with and practice English with and whatnot. So people from the church put on a "Cafe" every Friday night, and basically we just all eat a meal together and hang out and try to get to know the students. It's a brilliant idea, I think, and it was a ton of fun! There are theme nights sometimes, and last night's was Irish Night (due to the festivities of today). So we had Irish stew and live music, and (surprise surprise) "The Wild Rover" was the last song they played, so it's in my head again. I can't escape that song...
Anyway. I wasn't sure at all what to expect, but as I said, it was a ton of fun. I sat down at a table and soon had been introduced to a Japanese girl, a French girl, a German girl, and an Irish girl. Nearby tables had students from Korea, China, Panama, France, Japan, and more from Ireland. There was one other American, but he's one of the leaders. It was quite the diverse group, and it was nice to meet more people like myself who are away from home and wandering around Ireland for a few months. Also, funny story - at the end of the night as we were all saying goodbye, the Japanese girl came up to me and said, "I'm not sure how to say it in English... I want to give compliment. You have very straight back. While we were eating, we were all - like this -" (slouching) "- and you were so... straight! It's... it's nice." hahahaha. I told her that's a good compliment to give someone.
Oh, okay, also. I'm not being racist or anything, but this was just hilarious - you know in "The Wild Rover" how you clap four times during the chorus? Well, this same Japanese girl couldn't really get a handle on it so I was showing her when to clap, and from then on she kept referring to it as the "crap". I mean she was SAYING "clap", it just... didn't turn out to sound that way. hahahahaa.
Well! Hello. Just after I wrote that last paragraph, Aaron ran up and told me that the family was watching "The Adventures of Tintin" so I went and watched it with them. Then we had dinner... cleaned dinner up... and watched "Family Fortune" (the British equivalent of "Family Feud", although much more endearing and not as hideously annoying as the latter. Also, the host reminds me of Dick van Dyke). So now Ray and Carole are chasing the boys around, trying to get them into the bath so that they can go to bed. That's been going on for about twenty minutes... it's a bit quieter now, though, so perhaps there was some success.
ANYhow. A lot of students last night were talking about going to the parade today, and telling me that I should go and all that... even the IRISH people (who said they wouldn't dream of going, themselves) told me that I ought to go, as long as I was here. Until last night I really had no inclination to go - I hate crowds, especially drunken ones. But a few other people wanted to go, and the fellow who is in charge of the cafe asked for someone to volunteer to meet them at the church in the morning and lead them to O'Connell Street... and I was kind of coerced into raising my hand. So, suddenly, I had Saturday plans. Arrangements were made, and although I had no idea who or how many would show up, I was committed to be at the church at 11:00 sharp. On the way home, I realized how silly that was of me - I had no way of getting to the church, and no idea where to go once I got there. But it all worked out - I researched transportation systems and memorized maps, and this morning I took the tram (the Luas, as it's called here) and made my way through the crowd to the church, and waited there for a half hour (during which time I drew pictures in my sketchbook and whistled Mr. Rogers songs). Eventually a French girl and three Japanese fellows showed up, and we waked to O'Connell Street together.
We really should have met an hour earlier so that we could actually get a place near the front; the whole street was at least 5 people deep against the gates. But I had it better than my companions - at least I'm tall. :) So I could see most things as they passed by, and I got a few really good pictures. I don't know if I'm patient enough to post those to Facebook tonight... but maybe. Even Grafton Street, the pedestrian shopping area where Molly Malone lives, was packed full of interesting people - there was a guy dressed as a bronze statue (I actually thought it WAS a statue... FREAKED me out.), a few street musicians, some sculptors sculpting things out of sand, face-paint artists, and one fellow who was standing as if frozen in time. He'd starched his tie and jacket so that they were flying up and back, and he was completely frozen - really, truly impressive. As a mime, I have immense respect for that kind of control! The parade itself was lots of fun - the costumes and makeup were amazing. And actually the crowds weren't so bad, so long as you did't act pushy or impatient with anyone. When it was all over, I left my friends to enjoy the city and headed back to Dalkey on the rather crowded DART train. I think I just beat the real crowds, too - it was mid afternoon by then, and I was surprised to see how many people were heading INto the city as I was heading out. I bet tonight's quite loud down in the city center.
Long story short, I'm glad I got sort of trapped into going today - I'd definitely have kicked myself if I hadn't gone to the Dublin Parade the one time that I'm here for it. I do miss having corned beef and Guinness with the family, though... we'll have to save that for when I come home in May. :)
Friday, March 16, 2012
Oh! P.S.
haha, I can't believe I forgot to write this... on the way back from the Cliffs, before we stopped at Bunratty, people were beginning to fall asleep on the bus. Mike looked back in the mirror and, seeing this, asked into his microphone if anyone knew the song "The Wild Rover". (Which I did... because my friends were in The Playboy of the Western World, and there was a fabulous scene in which they all took turns singing the verses.) He didn't ask us to sing, but he did ask us to do the four claps during the chorus - and he sang the whole song. It was hilarious and wonderful, and I got a video of it all... except I don't know how to upload videos on my camera. Darnit. Anyway, the downside is that it's been stuck in my head for 24 hours now. Ugh.
Go look it up and share in the curse! Then you can imagine me on a bus full of cranky tourists, clapping four beats in unison for a singing Irishman as we careened down the left-hand side of a country road.
Go look it up and share in the curse! Then you can imagine me on a bus full of cranky tourists, clapping four beats in unison for a singing Irishman as we careened down the left-hand side of a country road.
And it's No, Nay, Never...
Well, it's 20 to 4 on Friday, and it's been raining all day. The first rain since I've been here! It's been constant, but light - when I woke up I didn't even realize it was raining because I couldn't hear it against my window. I'd been thinking about walking back up Killiney Hill today, but due to the weather this morning I decided to sleep in, and spend the day catching up on emails and blogs and pictures. Also, tonight is the first church event (other than church itself) that I'm going to - so I'll be going out in a few hours anyway.
Yesterday was a very long, but very fun, day. I woke up a few minutes before 6 AM and got bundled up, breakfasted up, and out the door at 7 o'clock. Ray drove me into the center of Limerick City (about a two hour drive) and dropped me off at the tourist office at Arthur's Quay (which my mind ALWAYS incorrectly pronounces as "quay" and not "key"). The Quay, by the way, looks out onto the Shannon River where you can see King John's Castle. Now, I'm not sure, but is that the King John of the Robin Hood stories? As in, brother of Richard? I should find that out... because the whole time I was waiting for my bus, I was staring across the river at the castle and imagining a cartoon lion with a crown too big for his head, and a thumb just right for his mouth, who was crying "Mom-may!" all day long.
My bus came at 10:30. When I got on, I was surprised to see that many of the seats already had jackets and bags on them. Odd, I thought. I took an empty seat by a window and then the other seats filled as people filled onto the bus. The driver, who had just returned with a cup of coffee, asked if anyone had just joined them or if everyone had been with him since Cork. (Apparently the Cork-crowd had been with him since 8 AM.) I raised my hand and he said, "Alright, just a minute..." and then went to greet six or seven other people who had just arrived. He asked them if they were just joining, but didn't get their names yet (so he didn't get mine by process of elimination...) - and then he looked at me and said, "You're Laura?" I have no idea how he knew that - I guess I just look like a Laura? Anyway, as the new crowd got on, he asked the girl in front of me to move back so the group could stay together. She asked me if I was traveling alone, and said that she was too, and we exchanged names. She was from New Jersey, here for a week on spring break, and by herself because she makes it a goal every year to travel to a new country on break. Quite ambitious of her. We ended up talking quite a bit and since we were the only two traveling without a group, we paired up and spent the day talking and wandering around together at stops. When we weren't talking, though, the bus driver was - and he was a very enjoyable, informative fellow. My favorite part was when, during a silence early on in the drive, he said (as if somebody had asked him), "It's a bit early in the mornin' to be talkin' gypsies." hahahaha. I don't really know what that was supposed to mean...
It was an enjoyable tour; somehow the time just flew by, even though it didn't necessarily feel like it would. It was nice to just sit back and enjoy the ride, but a little frustrating too - if I'd been driving, I would have pulled off a million times and made so many random stops! We'd pass something by and barely have time to look at it. Mostly, though, the driver (Mike, I think his name was... at least that's what I'll call him) was pretty good at at least slowing down as he pointed something out, and sometimes he'd stop along the road and watch for traffic as we stood and took pictures. I don't know if it was because I was tired and thus more trusting than usual or because there was something distinctly likable about the fellow, but I felt that as long as we were in Mike's hands we were alright. Even though Irish roads are incredibly narrow and our bus was rather big. Oh, also, during the long stretches of driving, he would play traditional Irish music (with the occasional Flogging Molly song), which was fabulous.
We drove past King John's Castle and the River Shannon, and drove through the very scenic County Clare. We also passed by Galway Bay, which was beautiful - mostly because it reminded me of Mom singing "Galway Bay" the night before I left. I saw so many old castles and ruins of stone houses with thatched roofs - Mike talked about some of the ruins, but there were many that passed us by with no reference. We also saw a famine cemetery - during the famine, so many people were dying that there wasn't time or room for a headstone for each of them. So they had mass grave sites where 10 - 15 people were buried together, under one headstone. It was a beautiful but heart-wrenching thing to see.
We did make a few long stops; one at the Burren where we saw Poulnabronee, a huge stone "passage tomb" that was around 3,000 years before Jesus was born. Then we stopped at lunch in a town called Doolin, which is apparently where traditional Irish music originated. We got a traditional Irish pub lunch at Fitzpatrick's Bar, which was fabulous - sausage and vegetables and potatoes and gravy. The restaurant was packed (with our bus folk and many others), but New Jersey and I got invited to sit with a couple (Dublin and Kentucky), and we had a grand old time talking and eating and staying warm. It's funny - we all mentioned where we were from, and what brought us to Ireland, and what we'd seen and wanted to see... and then just before we left, we realized that none of us had introduced ourselves. I guess names aren't very important after all. Anyway, then we got back on the bus, bound for the Cliffs of Moher.
Unfortunately, the fog rolled in right as we pulled up - so we ran to the edge to try to see before the fog settled, but by then it looked like a white wall was standing just at the edge of the grass. Which was really depressing - because all over there were pictures of what the cliffs look like on a sunny day, and they're AMAZING. So my American friend and I walked along the edge for awhile (more truthfully, we walked along the fence - you can't go to the edge anymore) and then went into the exhibition center, which is built into a hillside nearby. It was raining outside, except it wasn't really rain - at least not the kind that an umbrella would help against. It was falling downward, slightly, but it was also just in the air all around - the air was saturated with it. By the time we got inside, my hair was SOAKED! It looked like I'd just gotten out of the shower (which made it look quite interesting for the rest of the day... rather like a curly poodle. haha). We had almost an hour left by then, so after looking at the exhibition and pictures and boards with information, we went into the cafe and got some coffee. After a while we looked out the window and saw that it was starting to clear up - and we had about fifteen minutes left. So we ran to the edge, and we could see them! It wasn't a perfect view by any means, but I was just so happy to be able to see anything that it may as well have been sunny and clear. It was beautiful. 750 feet down! We could see about five different cliff faces to our left, including all the birds that make their homes on the ridges down to the sea. It was really incredible, and I'm so happy we got to see that much.
On the way back to Limerick, we stopped at Bunratty Castle. It was only a twenty-minute stop, which is sad - Ray and Carole have told me great things about that place. But... I'm torn between feeling sad about missing an exploration of the castle, and feeling happy in the knowledge that I did what needed to be done at the time: I went to the nearby bar, Durty Nelly's, with Jersey and got my first Ireland Guinness. Apparently Nelly's is quite the famous little place - due to its proximity to the airport, it's become the local haunt for American policemen and firefighters who come to Ireland. And due to a long-standing tradition, they surrender their shoulder badges when they come in, and the badges are then pinned up all over the bar; there are literally hundreds of them. Mostly east-coasters... I didn't see any Californian badges. Anyway, it was a cool little place and I'm glad I went - because I'm not about to go into a bar by myself, especially in Dublin, bus I did want to get a beer in Ireland before I left. So the pressure's off now. :)
We drove back into Limerick then, and I had about a half hour to walk around the Quay some more before Ray picked me up. We drove back, and oh, the Irish countryside is so lovely in the dimming light of the evening. Just as I was starting to nod off, we got home. The boys had just been put to bed, but they ran down to talk with us while we ate dinner. I came up and did some writing and reading and planning, and crashed hard after 1:00. I didn't wake until after 10. Which brings us up to date! I'm looking forward to tomorrow... Sundays are nice.
And whew. That was long. I think I deserve a cup of coffee. Good morning, CA. I'm proud to mention your name when people ask where I come from.
Yesterday was a very long, but very fun, day. I woke up a few minutes before 6 AM and got bundled up, breakfasted up, and out the door at 7 o'clock. Ray drove me into the center of Limerick City (about a two hour drive) and dropped me off at the tourist office at Arthur's Quay (which my mind ALWAYS incorrectly pronounces as "quay" and not "key"). The Quay, by the way, looks out onto the Shannon River where you can see King John's Castle. Now, I'm not sure, but is that the King John of the Robin Hood stories? As in, brother of Richard? I should find that out... because the whole time I was waiting for my bus, I was staring across the river at the castle and imagining a cartoon lion with a crown too big for his head, and a thumb just right for his mouth, who was crying "Mom-may!" all day long.
My bus came at 10:30. When I got on, I was surprised to see that many of the seats already had jackets and bags on them. Odd, I thought. I took an empty seat by a window and then the other seats filled as people filled onto the bus. The driver, who had just returned with a cup of coffee, asked if anyone had just joined them or if everyone had been with him since Cork. (Apparently the Cork-crowd had been with him since 8 AM.) I raised my hand and he said, "Alright, just a minute..." and then went to greet six or seven other people who had just arrived. He asked them if they were just joining, but didn't get their names yet (so he didn't get mine by process of elimination...) - and then he looked at me and said, "You're Laura?" I have no idea how he knew that - I guess I just look like a Laura? Anyway, as the new crowd got on, he asked the girl in front of me to move back so the group could stay together. She asked me if I was traveling alone, and said that she was too, and we exchanged names. She was from New Jersey, here for a week on spring break, and by herself because she makes it a goal every year to travel to a new country on break. Quite ambitious of her. We ended up talking quite a bit and since we were the only two traveling without a group, we paired up and spent the day talking and wandering around together at stops. When we weren't talking, though, the bus driver was - and he was a very enjoyable, informative fellow. My favorite part was when, during a silence early on in the drive, he said (as if somebody had asked him), "It's a bit early in the mornin' to be talkin' gypsies." hahahaha. I don't really know what that was supposed to mean...
It was an enjoyable tour; somehow the time just flew by, even though it didn't necessarily feel like it would. It was nice to just sit back and enjoy the ride, but a little frustrating too - if I'd been driving, I would have pulled off a million times and made so many random stops! We'd pass something by and barely have time to look at it. Mostly, though, the driver (Mike, I think his name was... at least that's what I'll call him) was pretty good at at least slowing down as he pointed something out, and sometimes he'd stop along the road and watch for traffic as we stood and took pictures. I don't know if it was because I was tired and thus more trusting than usual or because there was something distinctly likable about the fellow, but I felt that as long as we were in Mike's hands we were alright. Even though Irish roads are incredibly narrow and our bus was rather big. Oh, also, during the long stretches of driving, he would play traditional Irish music (with the occasional Flogging Molly song), which was fabulous.
We drove past King John's Castle and the River Shannon, and drove through the very scenic County Clare. We also passed by Galway Bay, which was beautiful - mostly because it reminded me of Mom singing "Galway Bay" the night before I left. I saw so many old castles and ruins of stone houses with thatched roofs - Mike talked about some of the ruins, but there were many that passed us by with no reference. We also saw a famine cemetery - during the famine, so many people were dying that there wasn't time or room for a headstone for each of them. So they had mass grave sites where 10 - 15 people were buried together, under one headstone. It was a beautiful but heart-wrenching thing to see.
We did make a few long stops; one at the Burren where we saw Poulnabronee, a huge stone "passage tomb" that was around 3,000 years before Jesus was born. Then we stopped at lunch in a town called Doolin, which is apparently where traditional Irish music originated. We got a traditional Irish pub lunch at Fitzpatrick's Bar, which was fabulous - sausage and vegetables and potatoes and gravy. The restaurant was packed (with our bus folk and many others), but New Jersey and I got invited to sit with a couple (Dublin and Kentucky), and we had a grand old time talking and eating and staying warm. It's funny - we all mentioned where we were from, and what brought us to Ireland, and what we'd seen and wanted to see... and then just before we left, we realized that none of us had introduced ourselves. I guess names aren't very important after all. Anyway, then we got back on the bus, bound for the Cliffs of Moher.
Unfortunately, the fog rolled in right as we pulled up - so we ran to the edge to try to see before the fog settled, but by then it looked like a white wall was standing just at the edge of the grass. Which was really depressing - because all over there were pictures of what the cliffs look like on a sunny day, and they're AMAZING. So my American friend and I walked along the edge for awhile (more truthfully, we walked along the fence - you can't go to the edge anymore) and then went into the exhibition center, which is built into a hillside nearby. It was raining outside, except it wasn't really rain - at least not the kind that an umbrella would help against. It was falling downward, slightly, but it was also just in the air all around - the air was saturated with it. By the time we got inside, my hair was SOAKED! It looked like I'd just gotten out of the shower (which made it look quite interesting for the rest of the day... rather like a curly poodle. haha). We had almost an hour left by then, so after looking at the exhibition and pictures and boards with information, we went into the cafe and got some coffee. After a while we looked out the window and saw that it was starting to clear up - and we had about fifteen minutes left. So we ran to the edge, and we could see them! It wasn't a perfect view by any means, but I was just so happy to be able to see anything that it may as well have been sunny and clear. It was beautiful. 750 feet down! We could see about five different cliff faces to our left, including all the birds that make their homes on the ridges down to the sea. It was really incredible, and I'm so happy we got to see that much.
On the way back to Limerick, we stopped at Bunratty Castle. It was only a twenty-minute stop, which is sad - Ray and Carole have told me great things about that place. But... I'm torn between feeling sad about missing an exploration of the castle, and feeling happy in the knowledge that I did what needed to be done at the time: I went to the nearby bar, Durty Nelly's, with Jersey and got my first Ireland Guinness. Apparently Nelly's is quite the famous little place - due to its proximity to the airport, it's become the local haunt for American policemen and firefighters who come to Ireland. And due to a long-standing tradition, they surrender their shoulder badges when they come in, and the badges are then pinned up all over the bar; there are literally hundreds of them. Mostly east-coasters... I didn't see any Californian badges. Anyway, it was a cool little place and I'm glad I went - because I'm not about to go into a bar by myself, especially in Dublin, bus I did want to get a beer in Ireland before I left. So the pressure's off now. :)
We drove back into Limerick then, and I had about a half hour to walk around the Quay some more before Ray picked me up. We drove back, and oh, the Irish countryside is so lovely in the dimming light of the evening. Just as I was starting to nod off, we got home. The boys had just been put to bed, but they ran down to talk with us while we ate dinner. I came up and did some writing and reading and planning, and crashed hard after 1:00. I didn't wake until after 10. Which brings us up to date! I'm looking forward to tomorrow... Sundays are nice.
And whew. That was long. I think I deserve a cup of coffee. Good morning, CA. I'm proud to mention your name when people ask where I come from.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
"Meet me under the whale at the Natural History Museum."
*Donovan reference. That song was stuck in my head all day.
Well my goodness, my feet are dead. I spent today in most every museum I wanted to get to in Dublin City: The Natural History Museum, The National Library, The National Museum of Archaeology, and The Chester Beatty Library. The whole time I was thinking about how horrified Dad would be to hear about how much I saw in so little time. You would have loved them all, Dad, especially the Chester Beatty. But I by no means feel cheated of time - I saw pretty much what I wanted to see. Don't begrudge me too much for looking at things quickly. :)
Still to see: the inside of Christ Church Cathedral, and Trinity College. I think it's weird that so much of the college is a museum, while it's still an active university. I think that going on campus when I'm not a student would make me feel like a trespasser. BUT, the Book of Kells is there and I couldn't face myself if I went to Ireland and passed that by.
The Natural History Museum was neat, although seeing that many taxidermed animals made me feel quite claustrophobic. At one point I realized that I was unconsciously having a staring contest with a crouching tiger. I also saw a fish called an Opah, and I thought it said Oprah, which made me laugh. Then an old man came up to me while I was looking at the shell collection; he produced a shell from his own pocket and held it up to one in the case, and said, "Look! Does this not look like that one there?" I said that it sort of did. "I think I've found a match," he said, and then read the name off the case with pride. I asked him if he'd found a lot of those or just that one, and he said wryly, "There were about a hundred where I was!" I told him that he should try to sell it to the museum and make a profit from his secret stash; he seemed to think that was a good idea, and thanked me for confirming his suspicions.
The National Library had a wing on Yeats, which I enjoyed, although I realized that I actually know very little about the man. I've read some of his poems, though, obviously. Apparently he had a younger sister named Lolly (well, her real name was Elizabeth, but they called her Lolly) - which made me happy, because that's what Ami calls me. I wasn't sure what to do with the reading room - that sounds stupid. I mean that I was surprised to see it as an actual active READING ROOM, where students were sitting at desks and pouring over all the old books. It made me feel slight self-conscious for not having a specific reason to be there, so I made a round of the room and looked at a few of the books, and went out. I do remember that the ceiling was cool.
There was a sort of demonstration or protest between the Library and the National Museum, with a ton of police and pedestrians and a news crew. I walked around it and headed inside. That was by far the most interesting museum to me - it focused mostly on the history of Ireland, from the early stone-age days to the vikings and up through more recent years. There were also rooms on the Romans and the Egyptians. I spent a few hours in there, although by then my feet had started to hurt quite badly. It was really fascinating, though! (The museum, not my feet.)
By then it was 4 o'clock, and all museums close at 5. So I walked quickly to Dublin Castle and went into the Chester Beatty Library (because I know where these things are now, ha!). I was only there for probably 40 minutes because of closing-time, but I really enjoyed it. They had Japanese, Chinese, Islamic and early European documents and pictures. I especially enjoyed the case showing all the different book covers throughout the centuries. Oh! Illuminated manuscripts, too! Those are lovely. It makes me want to take up being really brilliant and artistic with paper. I'll have to figure out where to get gold, and discover how to write with it... hm. Homework. I wandered around for awhile after that, not really feeling quite ready to come home yet, but without a specific destination in mind. Eventually I found Pearse (I never CAN find that place without getting lost), got on a train, and then walked very slowly back home even though it was incredibly cold. My feet refused to do the quick-city-walk any more.
Tomorrow is going to be fabulous! I'm having my first official "tour" - in Limerick! I'll write about it when I get back though. For now I'm just praying that I actually wake UP when my alarm goes off at 6 AM. Or before... probably before. I need to walk out the door at 7.
Anywayyyy. I'm going to go see if there's anything on TV or anything. I'm too tired to be creative and write things. Have a good afternoon, folks at home!
Well my goodness, my feet are dead. I spent today in most every museum I wanted to get to in Dublin City: The Natural History Museum, The National Library, The National Museum of Archaeology, and The Chester Beatty Library. The whole time I was thinking about how horrified Dad would be to hear about how much I saw in so little time. You would have loved them all, Dad, especially the Chester Beatty. But I by no means feel cheated of time - I saw pretty much what I wanted to see. Don't begrudge me too much for looking at things quickly. :)
Still to see: the inside of Christ Church Cathedral, and Trinity College. I think it's weird that so much of the college is a museum, while it's still an active university. I think that going on campus when I'm not a student would make me feel like a trespasser. BUT, the Book of Kells is there and I couldn't face myself if I went to Ireland and passed that by.
The Natural History Museum was neat, although seeing that many taxidermed animals made me feel quite claustrophobic. At one point I realized that I was unconsciously having a staring contest with a crouching tiger. I also saw a fish called an Opah, and I thought it said Oprah, which made me laugh. Then an old man came up to me while I was looking at the shell collection; he produced a shell from his own pocket and held it up to one in the case, and said, "Look! Does this not look like that one there?" I said that it sort of did. "I think I've found a match," he said, and then read the name off the case with pride. I asked him if he'd found a lot of those or just that one, and he said wryly, "There were about a hundred where I was!" I told him that he should try to sell it to the museum and make a profit from his secret stash; he seemed to think that was a good idea, and thanked me for confirming his suspicions.
The National Library had a wing on Yeats, which I enjoyed, although I realized that I actually know very little about the man. I've read some of his poems, though, obviously. Apparently he had a younger sister named Lolly (well, her real name was Elizabeth, but they called her Lolly) - which made me happy, because that's what Ami calls me. I wasn't sure what to do with the reading room - that sounds stupid. I mean that I was surprised to see it as an actual active READING ROOM, where students were sitting at desks and pouring over all the old books. It made me feel slight self-conscious for not having a specific reason to be there, so I made a round of the room and looked at a few of the books, and went out. I do remember that the ceiling was cool.
There was a sort of demonstration or protest between the Library and the National Museum, with a ton of police and pedestrians and a news crew. I walked around it and headed inside. That was by far the most interesting museum to me - it focused mostly on the history of Ireland, from the early stone-age days to the vikings and up through more recent years. There were also rooms on the Romans and the Egyptians. I spent a few hours in there, although by then my feet had started to hurt quite badly. It was really fascinating, though! (The museum, not my feet.)
By then it was 4 o'clock, and all museums close at 5. So I walked quickly to Dublin Castle and went into the Chester Beatty Library (because I know where these things are now, ha!). I was only there for probably 40 minutes because of closing-time, but I really enjoyed it. They had Japanese, Chinese, Islamic and early European documents and pictures. I especially enjoyed the case showing all the different book covers throughout the centuries. Oh! Illuminated manuscripts, too! Those are lovely. It makes me want to take up being really brilliant and artistic with paper. I'll have to figure out where to get gold, and discover how to write with it... hm. Homework. I wandered around for awhile after that, not really feeling quite ready to come home yet, but without a specific destination in mind. Eventually I found Pearse (I never CAN find that place without getting lost), got on a train, and then walked very slowly back home even though it was incredibly cold. My feet refused to do the quick-city-walk any more.
Tomorrow is going to be fabulous! I'm having my first official "tour" - in Limerick! I'll write about it when I get back though. For now I'm just praying that I actually wake UP when my alarm goes off at 6 AM. Or before... probably before. I need to walk out the door at 7.
Anywayyyy. I'm going to go see if there's anything on TV or anything. I'm too tired to be creative and write things. Have a good afternoon, folks at home!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Life after winter.
For some reason today my head has been feeling really strange; it's not quite a migraine, but it's unpleasant anyway. So I had another laid-back morning and after "half-one" I walked into Dalkey and found a cafe that Carole had recommended. It was a cheerful little place, rather reminiscent of Allison's Country Cafe in Ventura. Almost a little TOO cheerful though, actually, with its pink tablecloths, blue polka-dotted china, white-washed wooden booths and birdhouses on shelves. I had a cup of Americano and a slice of apple tart (which was all very good but overpriced) and wrote postcards in a quiet corner of the cafe. That kept me busy for awhile, and then I started "The Wisdom of the Sands" (Saint-Exupery's last, and reputedly his best), and I was there for about 3 hours in all. I think my favorite part of the whole afternoon was that there was a flower-shop attached to the cafe, just outside the window I was next to. Old women kept coming and looking at the flowers, and they looked so happy to see life after winter.
Eventually I started feeling a bit too sick, though, and it was only getting colder and darker outside, so I headed home. Unlike most evenings (which I usually spend uploading pictures or writing emails or reading books), I stayed down with the family tonight. It's not that I don't like spending time with them in general - it's just that usually they all have things to do, and I don't want to be in the way. But it was nice just hanging out tonight. We watched a science program and then Aaron was playing with GoogleEarth, so I showed him where I live, and they all came over to see my house and the harbor. I have to say, I took a bit of pride in showing home off to them. At about 7:20, Carole told the boys that they had five minutes before bed-time, and she said that Mark could choose a game for them to play until then. He came out with a card game and started setting up. "Is it just you and me playing?" She asked him. "Yeah," he said. "Laura and I can play tomorrow."
I wasn't going to be offended if he didn't want to play with me... but the promise of playing tomorrow did make me happy. :)
The only other truly eventful thing about today happened just as Carole was putting the boys down to bed. I'd come up to write a few emails and I was on my way back down to make myself a cup of tea, and as I walked down the dark spiral-staircase to the second floor I could hear Carole's voice as she read a story to Mark. I was just aware of how stealthy I was being, when I stepped too far on a step and BAM! Fell down. I managed to catch the railing quickly so I didn't actually fall as hard as I could have, but it made a terrific bang and suddenly everything in the house sort of stopped, and I heard Carole gasp and say, "My goodness." in that truly horrified, yet quiet, way that mothers have when they're genuinely worried. I called out that I was fine, that I'd only slipped and wasn't hurt, got downstairs, and laughed at myself for five minutes.
In other news, I've started to miss having a routine. Not so much a routine, actually, as just feeling needed and feeling that I'm actually accomplishing something. I need goals. I was feeling a little glum about that yesterday. I especially get down about how much being out and about really makes me stressed; as much as I try to fight it, I've become forced to acknowledge the fact that I have a small but legitimate case of agoraphobia. Odd, and terrible, for someone who loves to travel. I loved Dublin City, for example, but a few times yesterday I just had to sit down some place in a park and hide out for awhile. I think that's why I felt like staying close to the house today; I'll just have to balance the day trips out. I wasn't sure if I'd feel brave enough to go back to the city tomorrow, but then last night I had a dream that I was home again after this trip. People kept asking me to tell them stories about where I'd gone and what I'd seen, and I kept saying, "Honestly I don't know WHAT I did for two months."
So I'm going to the city tomorrow. Because that is NOT going to happen.
Eventually I started feeling a bit too sick, though, and it was only getting colder and darker outside, so I headed home. Unlike most evenings (which I usually spend uploading pictures or writing emails or reading books), I stayed down with the family tonight. It's not that I don't like spending time with them in general - it's just that usually they all have things to do, and I don't want to be in the way. But it was nice just hanging out tonight. We watched a science program and then Aaron was playing with GoogleEarth, so I showed him where I live, and they all came over to see my house and the harbor. I have to say, I took a bit of pride in showing home off to them. At about 7:20, Carole told the boys that they had five minutes before bed-time, and she said that Mark could choose a game for them to play until then. He came out with a card game and started setting up. "Is it just you and me playing?" She asked him. "Yeah," he said. "Laura and I can play tomorrow."
I wasn't going to be offended if he didn't want to play with me... but the promise of playing tomorrow did make me happy. :)
The only other truly eventful thing about today happened just as Carole was putting the boys down to bed. I'd come up to write a few emails and I was on my way back down to make myself a cup of tea, and as I walked down the dark spiral-staircase to the second floor I could hear Carole's voice as she read a story to Mark. I was just aware of how stealthy I was being, when I stepped too far on a step and BAM! Fell down. I managed to catch the railing quickly so I didn't actually fall as hard as I could have, but it made a terrific bang and suddenly everything in the house sort of stopped, and I heard Carole gasp and say, "My goodness." in that truly horrified, yet quiet, way that mothers have when they're genuinely worried. I called out that I was fine, that I'd only slipped and wasn't hurt, got downstairs, and laughed at myself for five minutes.
In other news, I've started to miss having a routine. Not so much a routine, actually, as just feeling needed and feeling that I'm actually accomplishing something. I need goals. I was feeling a little glum about that yesterday. I especially get down about how much being out and about really makes me stressed; as much as I try to fight it, I've become forced to acknowledge the fact that I have a small but legitimate case of agoraphobia. Odd, and terrible, for someone who loves to travel. I loved Dublin City, for example, but a few times yesterday I just had to sit down some place in a park and hide out for awhile. I think that's why I felt like staying close to the house today; I'll just have to balance the day trips out. I wasn't sure if I'd feel brave enough to go back to the city tomorrow, but then last night I had a dream that I was home again after this trip. People kept asking me to tell them stories about where I'd gone and what I'd seen, and I kept saying, "Honestly I don't know WHAT I did for two months."
So I'm going to the city tomorrow. Because that is NOT going to happen.
Monday, March 12, 2012
"Alive, alive, oh!"
FINALLY. After being away from home for a week (this time last Monday I believe I was airborne over the Atlantic), I made it into the city center today. Dublin! Yay! As I anticipated, I was lost for the majority of the time. Actually I was lost much more than I'd anticipated... I mean, I've spent hours studying maps and tour-guide books, looking for ways to get from one point to another. But there's a real difference between finding a place on a map and finding a place on a street - especially because I think the Irish must be secretly very protective and, well, secretive. Because their street signs are ridiculously confusing, when you can follow them at all. I felt a little overwhelmed the first hour, which I spent trying to find St. Stephen's Green from Pearse Street. Eventually I realized that the first day SHOULD be spent getting lost. And then I found the Green.
After that I didn't worry about being lost. Which is good, because as I said, I was most of the time. I always understood the immediate vicinity that I was in, but I had no idea how to get from point A to point B. Still don't, really. But I walked around for 5 or 6 hours and I found essentially everything that I wanted to find today. AND I figured out the DART stations, asked for help if I really needed it, and got off at the right stop and survived the freezing walk home. So by all means, I consider it a successful day.
Because I didn't follow a specific tour or street or even stay in one area, it's difficult to go back and retrace my adventures in a logical, linear way. I'm actually not even sure where I spent my first hour; I do know that I must have walked right past St. Stephen's and Merrion Square several times while I was looking for them. I also know that I walked right through Merrion Square without knowing what it was because the sign at the gate said "Dublin City Council Park", which I thought was nice but decidedly unhelpful. Anyway - I eventually went through St. Stephens, and walked for a while, searching for anything familiar. I saw a sign for St. Patrick's Cathedral, and knew then that I'd gone far too south for the city center. But what the heck? So I followed the signs and eventually found the cathedral. WOW. What an incredibly beautiful place. Look up pictures sometime - really. I think I want to go back and actually go inside this time. Just the exterior and the gardens (the gardens! the gardens!) killed me. Back out on the road, I walked towards the medieval center of town (I was inspired when I saw a yellow tour bus shaped like a boat, bearing tourists with viking helmets) and found Christ Church Cathedral. Also WOW. Cathedrals just knock me out. This one was established in 1030 and I'd reeeallly like to go inside. I don't know why I didn't, other than that I hate spending money. Hate it.
Let's see... I don't remember what on EARTH I was trying to find after that, or how I ended up walking alongside the River Liffey and then turning right onto Temple Bar St. That's a very long street full of shops and bars and restaurants (much like any other street in Dublin, except this one seems to be the most popular). OH, it killed me though - I was wandering down Temple Bar, trying to find something that I'd heard of, and I was starting to feel a little lost and down. It's only fun being lost if you think you might secretly have a way to find yourself in a few minutes; but Temple Bar is pretty good at hiding things, especially you. So I was kind of wandering around, thinking about that, and all the sudden I heard this very motherly voice on a speaker on the street: "Someday, sweet as a song, Charlie's lucky day will come along. Till that day, you've got to stay strong, Charlie; up on top is right where you belong." I don't remember being affected by that song in Willy Wonka as a child, but when we watched the movie a few months back, it made me cry. (A surprising amount.) I was so surprised to hear it down there that I just stood there, listening, with a ridiculous expression on my face. "Cheer up, Charlie, do - just be glad you're you." And then I found a map.
I got out of Temple Bar eventually and walked down some streets that looked surprisingly like Prague. Then I found Dublin Castle - which you have to look really hard for, if you don't already know it's there. So I'm actually surprised that I found it, haha. And that was a really cool place - it's a whole complex of goverment buildings which are still in use, and a cathedral that's really cool, and then these really brightly colored buildings that attach to the back. Also, there's the Chester Beatty Library - which I've heard is great, but I think it was closed or something so I didn't go in. But that's another thing to go back and do. The castle garden was, again, beautiful though.
Ughh it's midnight and I'm fading. Gotta finish!
Let's see. I think after that I was trying to find my way back to Pearse Street and not having much luck. I did find the statue of Molly Malone, though! Good heavens. That's all I have to say about that.
I then walked along the block with all the museums for awhile, and as it was nearing dinner time I didn't really feel like going into all of them (plus, that would take a day each, and I have many more days! Also, all that I ate today was an apple that I brought and saved for St. Stephen's Green and some Robert Frost reading. So I was eager to get home and eat). So I popped into the National Gallery for awhile, and saw some magnificent medieval works. All of their contemporary exhibits (including a whole room on James Joyce, and a wing on Yeats) were closed for work, though, which was a bummer. So I went out, and started making my way toward Pearse St. (because by then I'd figured it out! Ha!) and thought, "Rats - the only thing I really missed was Merrion Square and Oscar Wilde." (There's a famous statue of him there.) And then - what do you know?! As I was crossing a street, I saw him over the fence of the park! So I went over and got some pictures of the man and of the marble posts with his quotes. What a ridiculously smug, clever man he was.
Annnnd yeah. I'm really tired. I found Pearse eventually after some more meandering in Merrion Square, got on the crowded train along with the 9-5 crowd, and tried to ignore a very loud group of French tourist guys (three of the more annoying types...), and half-walked/half-ran home from the DART station. Dinner had just been set out when I arrived.
Tomorrow is going to be a laid back day. I think I'm going to find a local coffee shop and bring some books and make a day of it. I start getting stressed when I try to plan for the week, so I'm taking it all one day at a time. Because one day is much more manageable, and besides - out here, for me anyway, one day is all I NEED to plan for. How strange.
Goodnight, folks. Have fun googling all the places I talked about, Dad - that's why I was so specific, you know. :) Also, you would have LOVED the Gallery. But we can talk about that later. K. Bye.
After that I didn't worry about being lost. Which is good, because as I said, I was most of the time. I always understood the immediate vicinity that I was in, but I had no idea how to get from point A to point B. Still don't, really. But I walked around for 5 or 6 hours and I found essentially everything that I wanted to find today. AND I figured out the DART stations, asked for help if I really needed it, and got off at the right stop and survived the freezing walk home. So by all means, I consider it a successful day.
Because I didn't follow a specific tour or street or even stay in one area, it's difficult to go back and retrace my adventures in a logical, linear way. I'm actually not even sure where I spent my first hour; I do know that I must have walked right past St. Stephen's and Merrion Square several times while I was looking for them. I also know that I walked right through Merrion Square without knowing what it was because the sign at the gate said "Dublin City Council Park", which I thought was nice but decidedly unhelpful. Anyway - I eventually went through St. Stephens, and walked for a while, searching for anything familiar. I saw a sign for St. Patrick's Cathedral, and knew then that I'd gone far too south for the city center. But what the heck? So I followed the signs and eventually found the cathedral. WOW. What an incredibly beautiful place. Look up pictures sometime - really. I think I want to go back and actually go inside this time. Just the exterior and the gardens (the gardens! the gardens!) killed me. Back out on the road, I walked towards the medieval center of town (I was inspired when I saw a yellow tour bus shaped like a boat, bearing tourists with viking helmets) and found Christ Church Cathedral. Also WOW. Cathedrals just knock me out. This one was established in 1030 and I'd reeeallly like to go inside. I don't know why I didn't, other than that I hate spending money. Hate it.
Let's see... I don't remember what on EARTH I was trying to find after that, or how I ended up walking alongside the River Liffey and then turning right onto Temple Bar St. That's a very long street full of shops and bars and restaurants (much like any other street in Dublin, except this one seems to be the most popular). OH, it killed me though - I was wandering down Temple Bar, trying to find something that I'd heard of, and I was starting to feel a little lost and down. It's only fun being lost if you think you might secretly have a way to find yourself in a few minutes; but Temple Bar is pretty good at hiding things, especially you. So I was kind of wandering around, thinking about that, and all the sudden I heard this very motherly voice on a speaker on the street: "Someday, sweet as a song, Charlie's lucky day will come along. Till that day, you've got to stay strong, Charlie; up on top is right where you belong." I don't remember being affected by that song in Willy Wonka as a child, but when we watched the movie a few months back, it made me cry. (A surprising amount.) I was so surprised to hear it down there that I just stood there, listening, with a ridiculous expression on my face. "Cheer up, Charlie, do - just be glad you're you." And then I found a map.
I got out of Temple Bar eventually and walked down some streets that looked surprisingly like Prague. Then I found Dublin Castle - which you have to look really hard for, if you don't already know it's there. So I'm actually surprised that I found it, haha. And that was a really cool place - it's a whole complex of goverment buildings which are still in use, and a cathedral that's really cool, and then these really brightly colored buildings that attach to the back. Also, there's the Chester Beatty Library - which I've heard is great, but I think it was closed or something so I didn't go in. But that's another thing to go back and do. The castle garden was, again, beautiful though.
Ughh it's midnight and I'm fading. Gotta finish!
Let's see. I think after that I was trying to find my way back to Pearse Street and not having much luck. I did find the statue of Molly Malone, though! Good heavens. That's all I have to say about that.
I then walked along the block with all the museums for awhile, and as it was nearing dinner time I didn't really feel like going into all of them (plus, that would take a day each, and I have many more days! Also, all that I ate today was an apple that I brought and saved for St. Stephen's Green and some Robert Frost reading. So I was eager to get home and eat). So I popped into the National Gallery for awhile, and saw some magnificent medieval works. All of their contemporary exhibits (including a whole room on James Joyce, and a wing on Yeats) were closed for work, though, which was a bummer. So I went out, and started making my way toward Pearse St. (because by then I'd figured it out! Ha!) and thought, "Rats - the only thing I really missed was Merrion Square and Oscar Wilde." (There's a famous statue of him there.) And then - what do you know?! As I was crossing a street, I saw him over the fence of the park! So I went over and got some pictures of the man and of the marble posts with his quotes. What a ridiculously smug, clever man he was.
Annnnd yeah. I'm really tired. I found Pearse eventually after some more meandering in Merrion Square, got on the crowded train along with the 9-5 crowd, and tried to ignore a very loud group of French tourist guys (three of the more annoying types...), and half-walked/half-ran home from the DART station. Dinner had just been set out when I arrived.
Tomorrow is going to be a laid back day. I think I'm going to find a local coffee shop and bring some books and make a day of it. I start getting stressed when I try to plan for the week, so I'm taking it all one day at a time. Because one day is much more manageable, and besides - out here, for me anyway, one day is all I NEED to plan for. How strange.
Goodnight, folks. Have fun googling all the places I talked about, Dad - that's why I was so specific, you know. :) Also, you would have LOVED the Gallery. But we can talk about that later. K. Bye.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
It's getting better all the time.
My health, that is. Or so I hope!
I didn't write an update yesterday (Saturday, that is), because there was really nothing to update you about. I spent all day in bed, y'see. It's all kind of a blur, actually; I think I had more of a fever than I would admit at the time. I remember waking up at 9 with my alarm clock, and thinking, "No way." That was after not being able to fall asleep until 2, and tossing and turning all night. Carole came in at 10:30 (AM) and asked if she could get me anything, and I don't remember what I told her, but when she came back a few minutes later she had a tray with tea, toast, orange juice, pills and kleenex. I think that was one of the most endearing things that's happened since I got here; maybe when you're sick you just feel gratitude and undying loyalty more than you do when you're healthy, or maybe when you're healthy you're just too distracted to notice. In any case, every time she came back to check on me throughout the day (I think she came up 3 times in all), I found myself wanting to LOOK well just so she would feel like she had healed me. Anyway - that was pretty much my day. I spent all day lying in bed, trying to plan the next 8 weeks and researching plane/ferry/bus/train tickets, and talking to people on Facebook and email while they were awake. It's a terrible feeling, though, being sick and alone and wanting to talk with the folks at home and knowing that they're all sleeping. Darned time difference. Although as of last night, I feel a little closer to home - because the U.S. 'sprung forward', I'm only 7 hours ahead now. At least for another 2 weeks, at which time Ireland follows suit and jumps an hour on the clock.
Anyway. So that was yesterday.
I didn't expect this at all, but this morning when my alarm clock went off, I sat right up and starting gathering my things so that I could go take a shower. Granted, my alarm went off at 8, which is considerably later than I usually wake up for a Sunday morning. But their service is at 11! How nice is that? I then imitated the family by having a very relaxed morning; I even sat down at the table to have my morning cup of coffee. (Which I usually drink while standing in the bathroom, doing my hair.) It's remarkable, but for some reason I don't mind not doing my hair here. I mean I blow-dry it... but yeah. It's usually quite the process at home, just ask my family. (Actually don't.) Anyway - this isn't all to say that I'm completely well, because I'm still all sniffles and sneezes and a little achy. BUT, I'm on the mend. For which we are very grateful.
I loved being at their church. I met a few of the regulars, which include a few other Americans, but mostly very nice Irish people with very nice Irish accents. It actually has a very similar feel to it as my church. It's funny - a lot of things here feel like home. I'm not sure if it's because my community is particularly European-influenced, or the Speers' community is particularly Californian-influenced... but more probably, I think people are just people-influenced. We're all rather similar, really. It's quite remarkable.
On the way home we drove through the city center in Dublin. I'm so looking forward to finally getting there! (Hopefully tomorrow, though I've learned not to bet the farm on "tomorrow") It's a little intimidating, though - being so big and busy... but it looks fabulous anyway. There are so many things to see.
Let's see. We had lunch (soup and sandwiches), and then we drove to the place where the city meets the country and we climbed a mountain. A hill, by anyone else's standards, but to the Irish apparently it's a mountain. It was quite gray by that time, though, so it wasn't as spectacular of a view as I've heard it can be. I found a rock that I thought was heart-shaped, because I know my parents collect those and I wanted to give it to them. But when I got back home I looked again and found that it was only heart-shaped because I'd wanted it to be; so I'll have to keep looking.
We got back around dinner time and have been taking it easy since. There are a few shows that the Speers enjoy watching on TV (mostly crime dramas, as I mentioned, but the exception is "Dancing on Ice"), and I think I'll go join Carole for the results show, and perhaps for a cup of tea.
Good night for me, and good afternoon, California.
I didn't write an update yesterday (Saturday, that is), because there was really nothing to update you about. I spent all day in bed, y'see. It's all kind of a blur, actually; I think I had more of a fever than I would admit at the time. I remember waking up at 9 with my alarm clock, and thinking, "No way." That was after not being able to fall asleep until 2, and tossing and turning all night. Carole came in at 10:30 (AM) and asked if she could get me anything, and I don't remember what I told her, but when she came back a few minutes later she had a tray with tea, toast, orange juice, pills and kleenex. I think that was one of the most endearing things that's happened since I got here; maybe when you're sick you just feel gratitude and undying loyalty more than you do when you're healthy, or maybe when you're healthy you're just too distracted to notice. In any case, every time she came back to check on me throughout the day (I think she came up 3 times in all), I found myself wanting to LOOK well just so she would feel like she had healed me. Anyway - that was pretty much my day. I spent all day lying in bed, trying to plan the next 8 weeks and researching plane/ferry/bus/train tickets, and talking to people on Facebook and email while they were awake. It's a terrible feeling, though, being sick and alone and wanting to talk with the folks at home and knowing that they're all sleeping. Darned time difference. Although as of last night, I feel a little closer to home - because the U.S. 'sprung forward', I'm only 7 hours ahead now. At least for another 2 weeks, at which time Ireland follows suit and jumps an hour on the clock.
Anyway. So that was yesterday.
I didn't expect this at all, but this morning when my alarm clock went off, I sat right up and starting gathering my things so that I could go take a shower. Granted, my alarm went off at 8, which is considerably later than I usually wake up for a Sunday morning. But their service is at 11! How nice is that? I then imitated the family by having a very relaxed morning; I even sat down at the table to have my morning cup of coffee. (Which I usually drink while standing in the bathroom, doing my hair.) It's remarkable, but for some reason I don't mind not doing my hair here. I mean I blow-dry it... but yeah. It's usually quite the process at home, just ask my family. (Actually don't.) Anyway - this isn't all to say that I'm completely well, because I'm still all sniffles and sneezes and a little achy. BUT, I'm on the mend. For which we are very grateful.
I loved being at their church. I met a few of the regulars, which include a few other Americans, but mostly very nice Irish people with very nice Irish accents. It actually has a very similar feel to it as my church. It's funny - a lot of things here feel like home. I'm not sure if it's because my community is particularly European-influenced, or the Speers' community is particularly Californian-influenced... but more probably, I think people are just people-influenced. We're all rather similar, really. It's quite remarkable.
On the way home we drove through the city center in Dublin. I'm so looking forward to finally getting there! (Hopefully tomorrow, though I've learned not to bet the farm on "tomorrow") It's a little intimidating, though - being so big and busy... but it looks fabulous anyway. There are so many things to see.
Let's see. We had lunch (soup and sandwiches), and then we drove to the place where the city meets the country and we climbed a mountain. A hill, by anyone else's standards, but to the Irish apparently it's a mountain. It was quite gray by that time, though, so it wasn't as spectacular of a view as I've heard it can be. I found a rock that I thought was heart-shaped, because I know my parents collect those and I wanted to give it to them. But when I got back home I looked again and found that it was only heart-shaped because I'd wanted it to be; so I'll have to keep looking.
We got back around dinner time and have been taking it easy since. There are a few shows that the Speers enjoy watching on TV (mostly crime dramas, as I mentioned, but the exception is "Dancing on Ice"), and I think I'll go join Carole for the results show, and perhaps for a cup of tea.
Good night for me, and good afternoon, California.
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