Early on Sunday morning, the three of us boarded a tour bus that would take us all the way to the Cliffs of Moher and back, stopping at several tourist sites along the way, for a total journey of about 8 hours.
As we left Galway city and entered the countryside along the western coast of Ireland, we saw more and more rolling green hills (Ireland really is as green as they say!), thatched-roof cottages, and dry stone walls (walls that have been built up with rocks from the surrounding limestone and fit together in such a way that there is no need for mortar to hold them together). Our first stop was Dunguaire Castle, which was breathtaking both in low tide (on the way out) and high (on the way back).
We then entered the Burren, an area that is known for its wide expanse of limestone cobbles and endemic flora and fauna. We saw an earthen ring-fort (also known as a fairy fort) dated to the Iron Age. Click the link for more info on that; it's actually pretty interesting! We passed by a couple of dolmens and a cairn, all left over from Neolithic times, before arriving at the Poulnabrone Portal Tomb, probably the oldest thing I've ever seen with my own two eyes.
After passing through the lushest, greenest pastures I've ever seen, all dotted with cows, sheep and horses grazing, we arrived at Kilfenora Cathedral, a partially ruined 12th century church with a particularly interesting cemetery. From there we headed to the small town of Lisdoonvarna, the self-proclaimed matchmaking capital of the world. Every September, singles from hundred of miles away gather here to be matched up with their potential soul mate!
Next was lunch, and as usual, I ordered soup from a small cafe. After lunch, we finally arrived at the Cliffs of Moher, but we were utterly disappointed to find that the typical Irish weather had turned on us, and the entire area was obscured by thick clouds and mist. Where we should have been able to look over the side and see the Atlantic Ocean 700 feet below, all we saw was whiteness. We took the opportunity to visit the gift shop and watch the cows lazily grazing in a nearby field, and just as we were about to give up and write off our losses, the clouds cleared away for a brief moment, just long enough to see the breathtaking drop into the sea and snap a few pictures. Elated and exhausted, we piled back into the bus, ready to sleep the rest of the way back to Galway.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Olé olé olé! Euro Cup Final Game in Galway
That night, Jenny and Rick and I headed out to the Quays, where all of Galway's most popular nocturnal venues could be found. We randomly picked a place called the King's Head, as it seemed to have the most craic (and the biggest TV). In the spirit of competition, Jenny and I went head-to-head, Jenny rooting for Italy and I rooting for Spain in the Euro Cup final game. The pub was standing-room only, as throngs of Spaniards, Italians, and other fans packed the place, shouting and tossing balloons in the air. We found a good spot by the TV and took turns pushing our way to the bar to get rounds of beer.
The game turned out to be a blowout, with Spain winning 4-0. Jenny wasn't too amused by the outcome, and she and Rick left shortly after the game was over. My team had won, however, and I was having much too much of a good time to call it quits just yet! While I was outside smoking, a very tall man with very large blue plugs in his earlobes came to join me. "Are you from Alabama?" he asked, much to my surprise. I admitted it, but he never told me how he knew that. (I assume he caught a glimpse of my wallet as I was paying the barman) He was from Galway, and he was out with a group of friends that night. We all made introductions, and I was instantly a part of the group. Jimmy (blue plugs guy), Damien, Elizabeth (Damien's girlfriend), and the rest of the group escorted me to not one, but three nightclubs that night, and all took turns paying for my drinks! The city was alive with sportsfans running through the streets, and nobody was a stranger. I danced to Michael Jackson and Britney Spears, met people from all over the world, and got to see Galway from the locals' perspective. Elizabeth could speak Irish, and did so quite frequently (though I sort of think she was insulting me more often than not, as her boyfriend did more than his fair share of buying my drinks), and by the end of the night, I was known to all at the club by my nickname, Alabama.
When the club got so crowded that I was having trouble keeping track of my friends, I decided to call it a night before I was too drunk to find my way back to my hostel. Armed with a city map and a very poor sense of direction, I eventually found my way home and fell into bed, oblivious to the comings and goings that are so common in the wee hours at a hostel.
The next day would bring me to the Cliffs of Moher, and a full day of sightseeing, so the sound sleep I so miraculously enjoyed was very much appreciated!
The game turned out to be a blowout, with Spain winning 4-0. Jenny wasn't too amused by the outcome, and she and Rick left shortly after the game was over. My team had won, however, and I was having much too much of a good time to call it quits just yet! While I was outside smoking, a very tall man with very large blue plugs in his earlobes came to join me. "Are you from Alabama?" he asked, much to my surprise. I admitted it, but he never told me how he knew that. (I assume he caught a glimpse of my wallet as I was paying the barman) He was from Galway, and he was out with a group of friends that night. We all made introductions, and I was instantly a part of the group. Jimmy (blue plugs guy), Damien, Elizabeth (Damien's girlfriend), and the rest of the group escorted me to not one, but three nightclubs that night, and all took turns paying for my drinks! The city was alive with sportsfans running through the streets, and nobody was a stranger. I danced to Michael Jackson and Britney Spears, met people from all over the world, and got to see Galway from the locals' perspective. Elizabeth could speak Irish, and did so quite frequently (though I sort of think she was insulting me more often than not, as her boyfriend did more than his fair share of buying my drinks), and by the end of the night, I was known to all at the club by my nickname, Alabama.
When the club got so crowded that I was having trouble keeping track of my friends, I decided to call it a night before I was too drunk to find my way back to my hostel. Armed with a city map and a very poor sense of direction, I eventually found my way home and fell into bed, oblivious to the comings and goings that are so common in the wee hours at a hostel.
The next day would bring me to the Cliffs of Moher, and a full day of sightseeing, so the sound sleep I so miraculously enjoyed was very much appreciated!
Galway or Bust!
On the morning of the first of July, I packed my bags, left a postcard and a small gift (a Birmingham fridge magnet and a bag of pecan brittle) for Ronan as thanks for his hospitality, and set out for Galway on the west coast of Ireland.
I met Jenny and Rick once again at the Spire, and we hopped over to the internet cafe to print out our bus tickets, purchased the night before. Then it was around the corner to the bus station, and two hours later, we had arrived in overcast and slightly misty Galway city. Our hostel was up the hill and about half a mile from the bus station, and dragging a fifty-pound suitcase was starting to wear on me, but we finally made it, a bit wet and a lot tired, to the hostel.
We couldn't check in for another hour, so we dropped our bags in the luggage room and headed out to find some lunch. A surprising number of pubs in Galway don't serve food, so we stumbled in upon McSwiggan's pub for a Guinness before realizing we'd have to go somewhere else to satisfy our rumbling stomachs. Across the street was a Spanish place whose name eludes me, so we went in for what we thought would be a quick bite. Jenny, Rick and I shared a pitcher of sangria while we waited for the very "European" service (i.e. slow as molasses). I ordered the special, fish soup, Jenny ordered some chicken and potato tapas, and Rick ordered the paella. Our server informed us that the paella was made fresh and would take at least 30 minutes, but we went ahead with it. A very long wait later, when our stomachs had begun to digest themselves, our food finally arrived, and well worth the wait! Who would have thought Spanish food in Ireland could be so delicious, but as for my dish, I blame the extra-fresh Galway seafood. My soup was a clear broth packed full of clams, mussels, and different kinds of fresh-caught fish, with hints of paprika and saffron... divine!
After lunch, we headed back to the hostel to change and get ready for our first night out in the city. Rick and Jenny stayed in a private suite, but I was roughing it, and opted for a 9-bed female dorm room. When I first walked in, there were two American girls from Arizona already in the room, and we chatted for a while before I changed clothes and got ready to hit the town. When we were ready, Jenny and Rick and I headed out towards the Quays, where all the best pubs in Galway were, so we could watch the Euro Cup Final game between Spain and Italy.
That night made for a very good, but rather long story, so I'll save that one for another time...
I met Jenny and Rick once again at the Spire, and we hopped over to the internet cafe to print out our bus tickets, purchased the night before. Then it was around the corner to the bus station, and two hours later, we had arrived in overcast and slightly misty Galway city. Our hostel was up the hill and about half a mile from the bus station, and dragging a fifty-pound suitcase was starting to wear on me, but we finally made it, a bit wet and a lot tired, to the hostel.
We couldn't check in for another hour, so we dropped our bags in the luggage room and headed out to find some lunch. A surprising number of pubs in Galway don't serve food, so we stumbled in upon McSwiggan's pub for a Guinness before realizing we'd have to go somewhere else to satisfy our rumbling stomachs. Across the street was a Spanish place whose name eludes me, so we went in for what we thought would be a quick bite. Jenny, Rick and I shared a pitcher of sangria while we waited for the very "European" service (i.e. slow as molasses). I ordered the special, fish soup, Jenny ordered some chicken and potato tapas, and Rick ordered the paella. Our server informed us that the paella was made fresh and would take at least 30 minutes, but we went ahead with it. A very long wait later, when our stomachs had begun to digest themselves, our food finally arrived, and well worth the wait! Who would have thought Spanish food in Ireland could be so delicious, but as for my dish, I blame the extra-fresh Galway seafood. My soup was a clear broth packed full of clams, mussels, and different kinds of fresh-caught fish, with hints of paprika and saffron... divine!
After lunch, we headed back to the hostel to change and get ready for our first night out in the city. Rick and Jenny stayed in a private suite, but I was roughing it, and opted for a 9-bed female dorm room. When I first walked in, there were two American girls from Arizona already in the room, and we chatted for a while before I changed clothes and got ready to hit the town. When we were ready, Jenny and Rick and I headed out towards the Quays, where all the best pubs in Galway were, so we could watch the Euro Cup Final game between Spain and Italy.
That night made for a very good, but rather long story, so I'll save that one for another time...
The Wandering Rocks
Post-Pub crawl hangover (which didn't end until well after noon) I decided to shake the cobwebs off and get some fresh air.
I met Jenny and Rick at the Spire and we set out in search of some lunch. We ended up at The Stag's Head, which has been open since 1864 where I had my usual pub grub meal of homemade soup and brown bread, accompanied by a fresh Guinness. After that, we continued to aimlessly wander around Dublin, seeing what we could see. We passed through Trinity College, up and down O'Connell Street, got lost north of Parnell Square in search of James Joyce sites, finally found number 7 Eccles Street (where Leopold and Molly Bloom lived in Joyce's Ulysses), and only gave up our wandering when it became apparent that nothing was open except for pubs. Summertime in Ireland finds the sun setting close to 9:30 or 10 pm, which is very disorienting, as it can become very late without you realizing it.
Since I didn't get to spend much time with Ronan the night before, due to pub crawls and hangovers, I decided to make an early night of it and head back to the house. I picked up a couple bottles of cheap South African pinotage and found my bus stop. After boarding the bus, it took me about 45 minutes to realize that I was going in the wrong direction, as it's only a 15-minute ride from the city center to Ronan's place. I had to get off the bus (by this time, it was pouring rain) and carry my bags across and down the street to the bus stop going in the right direction, then ride 45 minutes back plus the 15 minutes I should have taken in the first place. Exhausted, frustrated, and soaking wet, I finally arrived back at Ronan's.
It just so happened that Ronan was hosting two other couchsurfers at the same time - Peggy from Roswell, New Mexico, and her 18 year-old son, Alex. They were making a cross-European trip and their last stop was in Ireland. After I got changed and dried off, Peggy and Alex and I shared travel stories while Ronan and his boyfriend, Ned, cooked us a delicious dinner. Ned called it "The Thing", as he basically just invented it on the spot. It was a sort of casserole with mashed potatoes as a base, and chicken, lamb, and vegetables in a tomato sauce on top. After Peggy and Alex went to bed, Ronan, Ned and I stayed up into the wee hours of the night, sharing wine and swapping stories. Ronan told me a great deal about Irish history that I didn't previously know, and we talked extensively about American politics as well. I always find it striking how much foreigners know about American current affairs and history, while Americans know virtually nothing about foreign countries.
Exhausted from a long day of wandering Dublin and a long night of food, wine, and conversation, I headed to bed. The next day I would be leaving for Galway for three days... on the road again!
Monday, July 2, 2012
The Pub Crawl: A Downward Spiral into Temple Bar
For my first night in Dublin, it was decided that the best way to cap off the evening was a proper rowdy pub crawl through Temple Bar, the area where youngsters from all over the globe flock to for booze, music, and craic.
Jenny had plans for the evening, so Rick and I ventured out on our own. At the first bar, we met Robbie, our tour guide, who promised not to leave us behind, but neither to take care of us if we got too drunk to take care of ourselves. We got a couchsurfing discount, so ended up paying €8 each for cover, which included one free beer at the first bar and drink specials for the rest of the night. We ended up paying about €3.50 per beer at each place, and often got a free shot as part of the deal. I found that one beer at each of the five bars we visited were more than enough to warrant a taxi ride home and a nice hearty hangover the next morning.
The best thing about a pub crawl is that you'll meet other travelers from all over the world. As soon as we got to the first bar, the Workman's Club (sorry, but that'll be the only pub whose name I can recall), we met Steve (not his real name, but an Anglicized version I came up with) and Louis from Paris, Julia and Ashley from Seattle, and Mick from Dublin (actually, Mick is one of my couchsurfing hosts and had planned to meet us anyway). We all got along instantly, except maybe for the two American girls who ended up living up to the "obnoxious American" stereotype to a tee. But Rick, Steve, Louis, Mick and I were a team, and we had a blast!
The Irish way to go out drinking with friends is to participate in the "rounds" system. One person will buy drinks for all of his friends, and then when it's time for the next round, someone else will buy, until everyone's had a turn. Of course, you can imagine how fun (and expensive) this gets, the more friends you have in your group! Somehow, I managed to only spend €5 for the entire evening, besides cover charge, and considering that beers were €3.50 a pop and I was buying 5 at a time, I have a nagging guilty feeling that someone got ripped off. All in all, though, it was an excellent time with some great new friends. We got to hear some live "trad" music, meet people from many different countries, and pose for some hilarious pictures (coming soon).
Jenny had plans for the evening, so Rick and I ventured out on our own. At the first bar, we met Robbie, our tour guide, who promised not to leave us behind, but neither to take care of us if we got too drunk to take care of ourselves. We got a couchsurfing discount, so ended up paying €8 each for cover, which included one free beer at the first bar and drink specials for the rest of the night. We ended up paying about €3.50 per beer at each place, and often got a free shot as part of the deal. I found that one beer at each of the five bars we visited were more than enough to warrant a taxi ride home and a nice hearty hangover the next morning.
The best thing about a pub crawl is that you'll meet other travelers from all over the world. As soon as we got to the first bar, the Workman's Club (sorry, but that'll be the only pub whose name I can recall), we met Steve (not his real name, but an Anglicized version I came up with) and Louis from Paris, Julia and Ashley from Seattle, and Mick from Dublin (actually, Mick is one of my couchsurfing hosts and had planned to meet us anyway). We all got along instantly, except maybe for the two American girls who ended up living up to the "obnoxious American" stereotype to a tee. But Rick, Steve, Louis, Mick and I were a team, and we had a blast!
The Irish way to go out drinking with friends is to participate in the "rounds" system. One person will buy drinks for all of his friends, and then when it's time for the next round, someone else will buy, until everyone's had a turn. Of course, you can imagine how fun (and expensive) this gets, the more friends you have in your group! Somehow, I managed to only spend €5 for the entire evening, besides cover charge, and considering that beers were €3.50 a pop and I was buying 5 at a time, I have a nagging guilty feeling that someone got ripped off. All in all, though, it was an excellent time with some great new friends. We got to hear some live "trad" music, meet people from many different countries, and pose for some hilarious pictures (coming soon).
Arrival in Dublin
For my first two nights in Dublin, I was couchsurfing with a guy named Ronan. Before I left Birmingham, he sent me detailed directions to his house, which I meticulously copied into my journal for future reference. In hindsight, this is the only clever thing I've ever done in my life. Reason: streets in Dublin are not very clearly marked, and by that I mean that they are not marked at all. If they are marked, the sign is intentionally placed behind a bush or flipped the wrong way around in what is obviously a joke on the throngs of tourists that get lost there every day. When you ride the bus, you have to intuitively guess which stop to get off at, or else you can ask the driver, in which case he might remember to tell you. Luckily, my driver remembered, and three elderly gentlemen carrying canes and sporting bowler's caps (no, they were not James Joyce) escorted me from the bus stop to my destination, simply because Dubliners are the nicest, most helpful people on the planet. (No sarcasm here, my friends.... the friendliness of the Irish is unparalleled!)
When I arrived at Ronan's house, despite being tired, smelly, sweaty, frazzled, and confused, I sat and talked to my host for an hour or so in his kitchen while he poured tea and I chugged water like I was trying to drown myself. He was a great guy, and told me lots of interesting points of Irish trivia (people in Dublin hate Bono as much as I do) and we had a lot of good laughs. I was originally set up to sleep on the couch in the living room, but his roommate happened to be out of town for the week, so I got my own room with my own bed and sink! Fabulous. After having a chat and the grand tour, it was time for a shower and then leaving to meet with friends.
I met Jenny and Rick at the Spire in the city center. They had been in Dublin for several days already, and were very helpful in explaining just how things worked in the city. The Spire, at 700 feet tall, is an excellent meeting-place, and you'll often see tour groups with matching t-shirts gathering there. So, what was the first thing I did in Dublin with my new friends? To the pub, of course! We picked one at random (there are so many, it would be impossible to make an informed decision) and I had my first real Irish Guinness along with some chicken and veggie soup, served with homemade brown bread and butter. Soup, by the way, is a budget traveler's dream. At €5 for a very large bowl of homemade soup and a giant basket of hearty brown bread, soup is more filling and half the price of pretty much anything else on the menu. I have actually had soup every single day that I've been here, at every meal, and I'm addicted.
After some great craic (pronounced "crack", it's a general term for having a good time), we headed back to Jenny and Rick's guesthouse to relax before my first big night out in Dublin.... but that's another story entirely.
When I arrived at Ronan's house, despite being tired, smelly, sweaty, frazzled, and confused, I sat and talked to my host for an hour or so in his kitchen while he poured tea and I chugged water like I was trying to drown myself. He was a great guy, and told me lots of interesting points of Irish trivia (people in Dublin hate Bono as much as I do) and we had a lot of good laughs. I was originally set up to sleep on the couch in the living room, but his roommate happened to be out of town for the week, so I got my own room with my own bed and sink! Fabulous. After having a chat and the grand tour, it was time for a shower and then leaving to meet with friends.
I met Jenny and Rick at the Spire in the city center. They had been in Dublin for several days already, and were very helpful in explaining just how things worked in the city. The Spire, at 700 feet tall, is an excellent meeting-place, and you'll often see tour groups with matching t-shirts gathering there. So, what was the first thing I did in Dublin with my new friends? To the pub, of course! We picked one at random (there are so many, it would be impossible to make an informed decision) and I had my first real Irish Guinness along with some chicken and veggie soup, served with homemade brown bread and butter. Soup, by the way, is a budget traveler's dream. At €5 for a very large bowl of homemade soup and a giant basket of hearty brown bread, soup is more filling and half the price of pretty much anything else on the menu. I have actually had soup every single day that I've been here, at every meal, and I'm addicted.
After some great craic (pronounced "crack", it's a general term for having a good time), we headed back to Jenny and Rick's guesthouse to relax before my first big night out in Dublin.... but that's another story entirely.
Goodbye, Birmingham! Hello, Dublin!
I'll try to make this brief.
The flight from Birmingham to Chicago was a breeze, but the oppressive heat and humidity in Chicago was pretty much a day-ruiner. Luckily, I didn't have my giant suitcase with me, as it was checked through to Dublin, but I did have my heavy backpack, full of laptop and books, as well as my purse, which somehow had also been packed full of books. I made plans to meet up with Cindy from my Cambridge program, who lives in Chicago, but we soon realized that it's very difficult to organize a meeting when one of us doesn't have a phone (guess which one). How did people live life before smartphones? (a.k.a Technology Is Making Us Stupid) Anyway, we finally found each other, and she very kindly bought me a gelato (a welcome cold treat in the middle of a very hot day) while I let my sweat dry and tried not to smell too bad.
When I finally made it back to the airport for my evening flight, I got lost in the maze that is O'Hare and made it to the terminal just a few minutes before boarding. Unfortunately, my good timing was a waste, as we waited on the tarmac for a full two hours before takeoff, due to a technological malfunction in Dublin. Of course, this was doubly disappointing for me, as I immediately fell asleep on the plane and when I awoke two hours later to see that we had "landed", my seatmate apologetically informed me that we hadn't even taken off yet. Luckily, the pilot was talented enough to shave a full hour off our flying time, so I only made it to Dublin about an hour late.
TSA in Dublin was surprisingly lax. I walked through customs with my bags without seeing a single person of authority, and my passport check was a simple question: "How long will you be in Ireland?" "Eleven days." "Okay." And all of a sudden I found myself outside, enjoying the fresh air of a surprisingly sunny day in Dublin. I bought a phone card and a bus ticket, and 45 minutes later, I was standing in the middle of O'Connell Street in Dublin's city center, ready for my next adventure.
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