Session and last day in Dublin:

1/15/11 Saturday Addendum:

I had met some young Irish lads and lasses in Galway at the hostel, Tom, Ian, Aaron, Aiofe, and Sarah who were there for a mate’s birthday. They invited me to Tom’s birthday party, or as they call it, a session, in Skerries. I was a bit skeptical about going but decided to chance it. There were about 50 people at this party, with great Irish hospitality. Everyone wanted to talk to the American; I got to dance with some lovely young ladies, and had a generally great time! So this is a big thank you to my mates Ian, Tom and Aaron for making me come, I had an awesome time! The party was pretty evenly divided between girls and boys, and I use that term on purpose, because most of them were about 18 or so. The party broke up about 1:30 and I took a cab back into Dublin.

1/16/11 Sunday:

Today I got up about 9am and after breakfast Elizabeth and I went to see the National Gallery of Ireland. The National Gallery is free, which is an added bonus. The highlight of this museum for me was the exhibition for Joseph Turner, who stipulated in his will that his watercolors could only be displayed in January. The reason for this was because watercolors are very delicate and light sensitive, and January is when the natural light levels are at their lowest. The room in which they are displayed is very dark, and the spotlights are set to only 50 lux.

The watercolors themselves were beautiful. Feathery and light, they looked like multi-hued clouds on paper. The themes were mostly landscape, and Turner captured them in a way that made them jump off the paper and into my imagination. My favorite was Great Yarmouth Harbour, which depicted a lighthouse, mill and dock against the backdrop of a brilliant sunset. But the best part is that it is an impressionist style, something I’m not a huge fan of, but it was done so well, I could not help but be moved by it.

After the Museum we got on the bus again and just talked until the end of the line about many different topics. I really enjoyed seeing my sister again, and hopefully I’ll see her again soon. We have many differences in philosophy and religion, but surprisingly we managed to remain civil, so kudos to her! I can be annoying at times when someone does not agree with me.

I’m sad that my time in Ireland is done, but I look forward to going back to work, seeing my friends again, and going down to the ocean and breathing the salty air. I cannot wait to come back here and see all my new friends again, as well as my friends in France and Australia! You guys made my trip, seriously. Thank you for being awesome people and I look forward to visiting you soon!

From Dublin,

Aeyrie

Touristing in Dublin

Saturday 1/15/11:

Today was tourist day. Elizabeth and I got on a bus that went around to all the major sites in Dublin. We visited quite a few of them. The Book of Kells was our first stop. The Book of Kells is housed in Trinity College. The Book of Kells is the four gospels in Illuminated Text. The monks that wrote this book paid great attention to detail and were given free reign for their artistic expressions. It was started by the monks of Iona who had moved to Kells after a Viking attack in 806. This amazing book came to Dublin in 1653.

After viewing the Book of Kells, we moved on to the Long Hall, which had an exhibition about the 1641 Depositions. The Long Room is the main part of the Library and contains over 200,000 of its oldest books in dark oak bookcases. This dark wood is punctuated by the white busts of various authors. Photography was forbidden in the Long Hall, though I tried, words cannot express the magnificence of this place. Among the works under glass was a book by John Temple called The Irish Rebellion, written in 1646 in reference to the 1641 uprising. It was signed by the author.

Among the collection is the oldest surviving harp. It is made of oak and willow and attributed to Brian Boru, High King of Ireland who died in 1014. This is the harp that appears on Irish coins.

We then went to the National Photographic Archive were they were showing photographs from The Big House in Ireland. The name of the exhibit was called Power and Privilege. The photographs date from 1858-1922, and show various aspects of high society, from otter hunting to horseback riding.

From there our travels took us to the Guinness Storehouse where we learned about Arthur Guinness. I did not know that he took a 9000 year lease on the land where the brewery currently sits. There is a man who believed in his product.

The last stop before walking back to the Hostel was the Old Jameson Distillery. I wanted to register my bottle of Midleton but unfortunately the year 2008 book is in Midleton, Ireland and was unavailable.

Tomorrow, more touristry!

Random observations...

I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Bray, watching people. Coffee shops in Ireland are totally different than in America. Here coffee and tea are a religion, and they seem to pray daily. There is a man sitting alone, with his coffee and paper, over there a group of women gossip loudly. An old couple, probably in their seventies, sit across from me, eating their sandwiches made of sausage and bread while sipping coffee. At another table still sits a mother with her young child. Similar to pubs and hostels, the coffee shop is a meeting place for all.

There are many different kinds of hostels. Some come with breakfast included, some not, though the price is usually reasonable, by Europe’s standards. To me, 4 euro for 2 slices of toast, a bowl of cereal, and coffee, is a bit pricey, but I pay it, because there is nothing else within a 3km walk. Some have hot showers, some are ice cold. Nothing is worse than a cold shower, especially when the room is cold and I can’t seem to get warm. Tepid showers are just as bad. As much as I love meeting new people, my favorite times were when the hostel was empty and I was left with my own thoughts, was able to reflect on where I’d been, what I’d seen. These times are precious in this people filled world, and I was fortunate to have three days of solitude in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

The food tastes different here. The milk is whole milk, always, and it has an interesting taste, not bad, just different. The Guinness is different as well, though I can’t explain what the difference is. They rarely put condiments on sandwiches. No mustard, mayo, ketchup here, just bread and meat, maybe cheese if you are lucky.

But the biggest difference is the people. Even in the dark economic times, their quick wit, easy smile, and persistently good attitude toward life are infectious. They are never in too much of a hurry for a good conversation, and they enjoy talking to anyone, even Americans. They freely give their opinion and ask for yours in return. And it’s not just the Irish that I’ve noticed this about. Perhaps it’s the land we walk on, but even people from other countries living here seem to come out of their shell.

I met a man, Margo, from Lithuania walking back from my hike yesterday. He was a photographer as well, had been to Glendalough multiple times. Through broken English we had a great conversation regarding cameras, landscape photography, and the best places in Ireland. He seemed quiet and reserved at first, but quickly came out of his shell, even offered me a ride back to the hostel. This would not happen in America, the land where we lower our head, shy away from eye contact, and hurry along about our business.

Does this implicit trust make it safer here? Perhaps. I certainly felt safe, though I did not let my guard down. Perhaps the best way to be safe is to approach people head on and see what and who they are. It’s the Irish way.

Had a long talk with the long lost sister tonight over probably every topic imaginable, and I look forward to more long conversations tomorrow. Good night all!!

Walking in Glendalough Valley

Wednesday 1/12/11 Addendum:

I went down to the hotel to eat dinner, and the waitress serving me, Martina, was very cool and I had a few awesome conversations with her, being that it wasn’t busy. She’s 23, from Slovakia, and is working in the hotel because they want her there that much. She had worked there before and they called her back. She wants to study psychology and live in Brazil. We discussed everything from ghosts to music. Another quality, interesting person that I’ve met on my travels.

Thursday 1/13/11:

I hiked 6 miles today. Climbed over 1500 steps. Total elevation climbed: 500 meters. And the blood sweat and tears were all worth it, took over 350 total shots. The hike started by going up a steep incline next to the Poulanass Waterfall. This stream is the reason this place is called Valley of the two lakes. Over the course of time, the stream deposited slit, cutting the lake in two.

I then started on a boardwalk that led to steps going up a mountain. Over 600 steps later, through thick woods that were dripping with water, I reached the first summit. There is an overlook there from which I can see Upper Lake.

The boardwalk took me along the edge of cliffs overlooking the lake. The views from up here were stunning. The climb continued higher, up two more peaks until starting down into Glenealo Valley. The hike down the mountain was accompanied by the sound of water. There were small streams running down the mountain everywhere I looked.

There are feral goats living in the valley, I can see them off in the distance. They are the descendants of the goats raised for food and milk when miners lived here in the early 1800’s.

As I continued down, the valley’s v shape became obvious. This glacier-carved valley is truly fantastic! The glacier left boulders the size of houses next to the river that runs through the base of the valley into the lake. The path wound through the boulders down to the valley floor where I met some red deer. They seemed quite unafraid of me, and I was able to get quite close, although not as close as I wanted.

I reach the ruins of the miner’s houses, made of stone, roughly dressed and built. The houses are in worse shape than the monastery, walls have fallen in, but they stand still, stark against the cloudy sky. Up on the hillside I can see the remains of their slag piles, like old scars.

I finally reach the hostel, drained and thirsty. I’m off to Dublin tomorrow on the St. Kevin’s bus to meet Elizabeth.

Glendalough

Wednesday 1/12/11:

Ian drove me to Laragh this morning for which I am quite thankful, for there is no bus service from Wicklow, and it’s about 20km, a long walk. From there I walked about 2 km to Glendalough. Glendalough is a monastic settlement started in the early 6^th century by St. Kevin. It was more or less active for over 600 years until being burnt by the Anglo Saxon raiders in 1100 A.D. The name means Valley of the Two Lakes, and it is absolutely beautiful.

I am staying at the youth hostel not 1000 feet from the site itself. I can hear the water over the rocks from my room, and see the round tower from my window. And there is no one here, I am the only patron. This is the stillness I’ve been looking for, in the Wicklow Mountains I’ve found it. Even on my walk around the lower lake today I only saw about a dozen tourists.

I started at the monastic site, and it was quickly easy to see why this was a place of contemplation and meditation. The calmness is catching. There are multiple ruin sites at this place, the most dramatic being the round tower. These are surrounded by graves, some ancient, some modern. I wander among ancient stones, ponder the remains of graves long lost to time. I wonder if at my end will there be anyone to mourn me. When they die, will I be forgotten, like a grave on a hillside as the water and wind slowly eat away at the granite headstone till I’m nothing more than dust and my memory lost in time? I honor these people who have come before me, for without them, I would not exist.

There is nothing like stillness to calm. All I can hear is the sound of running water as is falls off the rocks on the hillsides. It rained earlier today, and about 10 new waterfalls have sprung up out of nowhere as the water finds its lowest elevation. The hillsides are quite steep, and very muddy, and I slipped twice trying to reach the water.

On the return journey to the hostel, I met a wild goat and we traded pleasantries until he decided to try the grass on the other side of the hill. His horns were quite long, so I decided not to follow.

Tomorrow I will do the long hike around the upper lake called Spinic and the Glenealo Valley. Included on this trip is the Poulanass Waterfall, Glenealo Valley, ruins of a mining town, and hopefully a herd of deer.

Cheers.

Travelling from Killarney to Wicklow

Monday 1/10/11 Addendum:

I met Dominic, an Australian engineer, working out of London. He and I have a lot of similar views on things, which we discussed over whiskey and Guinness, while out with the girls. Photocopy biscuits, that will end world hunger!

Tuesday, 1/11/11:

I left the group for Wicklow today. I hate buses, so I took the train though it set me back 60 euro, and I am fortunate to have done so, because I was late getting to Wicklow anyway, and by bus would have been even later.

There are always interesting people on the train. I met a couple Irishmen, Airleas and Ian, two elderly chaps, and they regaled me with tales of their childhood as we winded through the mountains of their youth. Stephen had a few suggestions for my trip, mentioned the Glendalough. I promised to visit it, as it is in Wicklow National Park.

Ian I could barely understand, but he was jovial nonetheless. They both marveled at technology when I pulled out my laptop, and we spent about an hour looking at the photographs I’d taken.

I then took a nap. After getting off the train in Dublin, I got on the tram to get to the other station. I met 2 more Australians headed to Belfast. These two are on an 8 month trek, complete with camping gear. Every time I meet someone doing this I want to do it myself even more. It seems the best way to go about it is to go with someone.

On the train to Wicklow, I met an American, Steven, who is working in Wicklow as an evangelist. He got me up to date on all the football I’ve missed…I can’t believe the Saints got beat by the Seahawks!!! We talked quite a bit about faith and works in reference to James 2:26. That verse seems to be his theme for this mission.

When we got to town, about 7:30, is was quite late and dark, and I had no reservations at any hostel, so Steven took me into town and guided me to the hostel. Captain Halpin’s Bunkhouse is a converted family home, and the family there was quite welcoming, even though I was the only person staying.

After some dinner I went to bed early with no idea on what to do the next day.

Wednesday 1/12/11:

 After my shower this morning, I’ve decided to go to Laragh, a town just outside of the Glendalough. Trish was kind enough to offer to give me a lift.

Day 7

January 10:

Today I drove the Ring of Kerry, a famous circular drive of about 178km, with Maggie, Jess, and Karly. It was quite rainy when we started, but soon cleared to half overcast skies. The first part of the road takes us to a coastal road that meanders through tall cliffs next to the Irish Sea.

We decided to turn off and do the Skellig Ring, a smaller circular drive close to Valencia Island. This drive took us into the mountains, covered with mist and then down to the coast where the sun was breaking through the clouds. We walked on the beach and frolicked with a stray dog for about 20 minutes.

Our next stop was the Cliffs of Kerry, where the mountains fall away into the sea abruptly. Stones knives jut upwards as if stabbing at the sky, but instead of cutting are blunted by the green moss that covers them. In the distance we could see the Skellig Islands. I stopped to help the park owner with his laptop, got it working in about 20 minutes. I should have asked for my entrance fee back!

In Waterville, we stopped for lunch. I had roast beef. We then kept moving toward the East, stopping at the far side of the Killarney National Park. Here we were greeted by the sound of rushing water as it flowed into a calm lake of glass. The reflections on the lake of mountain, clouds, and sky echo still in my mind.

I think, a week in, I’m starting to miss home a bit. The ocean smell reminded me of San Diego and of how much I miss the sun. The sun rarely makes an appearance here; she prefers to remain shrouded in her clouds.

I really have no idea what I’ll be doing tomorrow, but the fab four are splitting, with Jess and Karly moving on to Galway, and Maggie deciding to stay here. I suppose I’ll know what I want later tonight or tomorrow.

I think even more than the beautiful scenery, the people I’ve met on this trip have been not only interesting and classy, but honest, and always have a new and different opinion on things. They have challenged my American way of thinking, and I think it’s for the better. I’ll come home with new ideas and new ways of thinking about things.

Day 6

Sunday 1/9/11:

I took the 10am bus to Killarney today. Maggie is headed the same way so we decided to travel together. The roads were very icy, but the weather itself was not too cold. We passed about 4 wrecks on the expressway. It took about 4 hours to get to Killarney. There were mountains in the distance covered with snow with green fields spread out before me. It was beautiful to watch the kilometers roll by.

When we got to Killarney we checked into the Killarney Sugan Hostel, which is an old building built in the early 1900’s from the local copper mine materials. It was the first two story building on the street. Inside the hostel is very funky and cool. It is very small and narrow, but the walls are covered with memorabilia and there is a fire burning in the fireplace.

We met two more Australians from Melbourne at the hostel, Jess and Karly. They were going to see Killarney National Park as we were so we joined them on an 8-9 km walk. Killarney National Park is stunning. Forests give way to grasslands in front of a snow covered mountain. Oh, and there is a castle. And red deer fighting for mates not 20 feet from us, I wish it were lighter when we saw them. The girls all posed for me, made me feel like a real photographer. They all are quite good models.

It started raining and was dark, so we turned around and came back to the hostel. I made dinner. On the menu was spaghetti and tomato sauce made with bell pepper, eggplant, and cherry tomatoes, as well as generous portions of onion and garlic. On the side was garlic bread made from Irish soda bread, with a glass of red wine. It was very delicious. We ate in front of the coal fire and they all talked about Melbourne.

After washing up we went out to listen to some music for a bit. There are excellent bands playing every night it seems, even on a Sunday. The plan tomorrow is the Ring of Kerry. Jess and Karly rented a car and have volunteered to take us with them to see it. I’m quite excited.

Day 4 addendum and Day 5:

Friday 1/7: Friday night I went out with Maggie and two other friends she had met on her travels, Elise and Abbey, sisters from Australia as well, to celebrate Maggie’s birthday. We had dinner at an Irish restaurant and then went to listen to some live music. The band was quite good and the place was packed. A good time was had by all.

Saturday 1/8: Woke up at 9am this morning. It was raining off and on. After about an hour of working on photographs and eating breakfast I decided to chance it and just walk around in the rain. I went to a local market where they were selling fresh vegetables and fish, as well as some locally made bread and goods.

I started talking to a local man, Steve, over a Boerewors Roll, a delicious South African version of a bratwurst.  He is going to bike from Toronto to San Diego in March. I wished him luck and kept moving. Stopped in a tourist shop and bought postcards.

I went down to the River Corrib and took a bunch of pictures. Moss seems to grow on everything here. I see it on houses, walls, even roofs.

What is Galway like you may ask? It is a large town, and the part I am living in is very lively. There are a lot of people hurrying about doing different tasks. The cars whip by quite quickly. The smell is quite different than in America. People here burn coal and it is an interesting smell to get used to. People play instruments along major walkways for money. This is called Busking.

I decided to go check out the sunset, so I started walking west. I found Mutton Island Causeway, which stretches out into Galway bay about 2 km. As you start to walk down it, the cold wind takes away your breath and any warmth left in your jacket. You are left shivering, chilled to the bone, and if the view was so good, you’d turn around and walk home. But the view is that good. You can see across Galway bay to The Burren and beyond to the Aran Islands and the Gates of Hell.

The Gates of Hell are appropriately named because of the many ships that have perished striving to get into Galway Bay. Fickle tides and sharp rocks damage and destroy small vessels and large alike. Sailors have died by the hundreds so close to safety.

This evening the storm had blown itself over The Burren as the sun was setting, a perfect winter Irish sunset.

I went out to an Irish pub tonight with Maggie for some cider. We got to listen to some authentic Irish music. There was one man that sang 2 songs acapella. The whole pub got quiet while he sang. It was so amazing to hear one solo voice sung over a crowd, and their respect for the singer. The respect for the culture here is inspiring.

I played Jenga with Waverly and Annie, 2 girls from Virginia that were here touring the country. We had an even more epic game of Jenga than with the Korean kids.

Off to Killarney in the morning at 10 am!

Day 3 addendum and Day 4:

Thursday 1/6: After getting to the hostel at Galway, I met two Korean kids and we played Jenga for about an hour. After that I met Laura, Mora and Maria. Laura is a 19 year old from Melbourne, Australia that is spending 6 months traveling Europe. Mora is a 28 year old Canadian from Nova Scotia that is teaching English to 5 year old Spanish kids in Madrid. Maria works in Quebec as a French and Music teacher. We talked till the wee hours of the morning about many different topics, including the US national debt, the poor pay of teachers, the conflict of interest between insurance companies and hospitals and many other topics I can’t even think of now.

Friday 1/7: Today I did the Cliffs of Moher and Burren tour. This tour was absolutely fantastic! It started at about 10am. 2 of the girls I met last night, Laura and Mora, joined me on the tour. I met another girl on the bus, Maggie, a 25 year old also from Melbourne who also was traveling Europe for 6 months. It seems that the farther away the person comes from, the longer they stay. I plan to make my next trip longer…

We went first to a family farm in The Burren. Burren means fertile rock, and it is. The rocks are almost all limestone, but hidden in the cracks and crevices is grass for the cows the Irish raise to eat. What is so striking about The Burren is the stark separation between the fertile grass valley and the stony mountaintops. There are also many stone walls separating farms and also for different cattle. Some of the walls were built during the potato famine. The English made them work for their meals, but they did not let them improve the infrastructure of Ireland, but instead made them built stone walls over mountaintops for no good reason.

These stone walls are made of just that, stone. There is no mortar involved. The stones are stacked on end so that the weight pushes down on the adjacent stones keeping them all in place. They are impossible to move from the lower level, and even the ones laid on top are difficult to move. They are fitted together with a stone mason’s skill, though none of them have been dressed.

On the top of most of the mountains stands a stone pillar that the English erected in the early 1800’s to help with mapmaking. We all got our pictures taken there with the help of our tour guide, a local farmer named John. We then got to eat traditional apple pie, which was absolutely delicious.

Our next stop was the Cliffs of Moher. No one knows why they are called that, but the Romans called it that in one of their writings in the 3^rd century and it has been called that since. It is believed that there was once a castle atop the cliffs, but it no longer exists.

It was extremely windy and cold at the cliffs, however quite beautiful. The water turns different colors, from dark blue to aquamarine to white as it hits the side of the cliff. The cliffs themselves look black at first, but you can pick out green and gray as you look at them.

I bought Maggie a card at the gift shop because it was her birthday, and the three of us, me, Mora, and Laura, all signed it. She really enjoyed it, and we were all very happy to see her laugh. This is her first birthday away from home, and I know how she feels, being that I just went through Christmas by myself.

We then traveled the coast road back toward Galway, stopping along the way at the ocean. Even at the coast the grass pokes through the rocks as if they are striving hard against gray to live.

The ride back to Galway was filled with traditional music played by the bus driver and the ruins of abbeys, and more stone walls than even I could take a picture of. All in all a fantastic trip and I felt as if I could spend 2 months in The Burren and still not see it all.

Day 2 addendum and Day 3:

Wednesday 1/5: After we got back from Howth and dinner, we decided to play ping pong, mostly because I, with my big American mouth, said that I could kick Mohamed’s ass at it. So we, Hakim, Mohamed, Mathiew, and I, put together 3 of the dining room tables, a big bigger than a standard table but just as fun. We then obtained the necessary net, paddles and ball from the front desk. It was a battle of epic proportions. The 3 Frenchmen were all very good. Everyone beat everyone, with trash talking in both English and French, mostly in French. 2 hours later, after much laughter, we were sweaty and tired. I had a shower and went to bed, though the boys tried to convince me to go out to Temple bar with them.

Thursday 1/6: This morning I got up about 8:30, a little later than I wanted, but not bad considering I had gone to bed after midnight. Had a quick breakfast with Hakim, where he again encouraged me to come to visit them in Paris. I told him perhaps in December or January. He told me I was the most tolerant American he’s ever met. That is a high compliment from a Frenchman.  I also said goodbye to Leo, Mohamed, Mathiew, and Marcilles. Hakim and Mohamed leave for France on Saturday, so I won’t see them again until I go to Paris. Leo, Marcilles, and Mathiew will still be there when I return to Dublin. I’ve met some amazing people already just a few days into my journey!

Walked to the bus station and took the 11am to Galway. It’s a 4 hour bus ride, but the monotony is broken by all the small villages the bus stops at to pick up passengers.

A few things I’ve noticed about Ireland since I landed that bear writing about. First, everything costs more, so I’ve stopped buying, such a hard American habit to break. Also, everyone is quite friendly; in fact they will go out of their way to help you. I have not met one ill tempered person yet.

If anyone decides to do the hostel route, there are a few key items to remember. The first is a towel. Hostels will provide one for a fee, much better to bring you own, there is no need to pay 4 dollars to rent a towel. Also, a lock is very necessary, and again, a hostel will rent or sell you one for an exorbitant overcharge. Bring sandals unless you want to be wearing your walking shoes inside the hostel, which can get uncomfortable. Hostels do provide free breakfast and it is a good idea to make use of it. It may be just toast and cereal, but it’s free.

Wi-Fi is a must. Most hostels provide free Wi-Fi, and I wouldn’t go to one that didn’t. Hostels are also a great place to meet people and a great place to find out where the best things in town are. The people behind the desk know the best tours for the money and can direct you to the best restaurants and local attractions.

So, that’s all for now from Galway, I’m thinking the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren Mountains tomorrow if it doesn’t rain…

Day 2

Wednesday 1/5: This morning started early at 8:30. Breakfast at the hostel and washing clothes. I had thought I was going to visit the Kilmainham Gaol, but Hakim, Mohamed, and Marcilles, had different ideas. They invited me on an adventure to Howth, a fishing town about 20 minutes train ride north of Dublin. Of course I said yes!

Howth is right on the edge of the water overlooking the Irish Sea. We walked through the town to the cliffs above, the brisk wind keeping us cold. While walking, we discussed the finer points of the English language, in mostly broken English. Hakim and Mohamed are both here from France to learn English better so that they can advance themselves in their companies. Marcilles is here travelling from Spain. She is planning to spend a few months here working at the Hostel to pay for room and board.

We talked about the differences between our cultures and languages. We walked back down the hill to the harbor, stopping for pictures along the way. Mohamed had promised his mother that he would see the seals that hang out in the harbor, so we went to find them. After much searching we found 6 of them begging for fish. 

They catch Wild Irish Salmon, and I tried convincing them to eat there but it was too expensive. I still may have to go back and try it.

We stopped at an Indian Buffet on the way home, all you can eat for 6 euros! It was really delicious. Most of the food here is very expensive. Actually everything here costs a lot more than it does in the States. A candy bar costs 1.50, a sandwich, 6 euros.

By the end of the trek they were calling me teacher Aeyrie, and asking me all kinds of questions about English. I really enjoyed my time with those three. Mohamed invited me to Paris, “For real, Aeyrie, I’m not just trying to be polite.” I may have to take him up on his offer. Seeing Paris with someone who has been there would be amazing.

Anyway, off to finish planning, I leave for Galway in the morning. a

Day 1 addendum:

Tuesday 1/4: After a 4 hour nap I went out on the town, if only to get lost, which I promptly did. I walked around the Temple bar area, stopped in an Italian restaurant. I ordered a pizza, and they served me mussels. So I ate them. Never had mussels before and they were delicious! Cooked in tomato sauce with garlic and olive oil, I must make them when I get home!

After more wandering I stopped in a pub to try a Guinness because I hear they are much better than in the US, and they are fantastic. Talked a long time with the bartender Jamie about Dublin and he pointed out some of his favorite attractions and tours for me to check out. He also made me take out my Ireland map and gave me a few good pointers about what to see.

After a 20 minute walk back to the hostel in light rain, I heard someone playing guitar on the lower level. I went down to talk to him, maybe to jam because they had guitars for us to use here. He was very excited to play with me. Leo from the Canary Islands is an amazing guitar player. We played together for about 2 hours, everything from Metallica to Neil Young. Is it possible to have a major highlight on the first day? This really was transcendent at certain points.

Now at after midnight I must convince my body to sleep. I decided to stay in Dublin one more night so I have enough time to get my bearings and plan my trip a little better.  

Day1...2...whatever..

Monday 1/3-Tuesday 1/4: I am hurtling above the earth at 535 miles per hour, 37000 feet in the air. Outside these thin aluminum walls the air is -74 degrees F.  Where has my day gone? It is easy to lose 24 hours when flying east. I have traveled over 5000 miles in less than 12 hours.

I suppose I shall begin at the beginning. I changed my flight from an 0835 to a 1245 flight out of LAX. Jim was kind enough to drive me to the airport on his furlough day. Much thanks to him and Christy for letting me occupy their garage for 2 weeks.

LAX is a monstrosity of an airport, 7 terminals and a never ending river of cars and people hurrying to get somewhere. I arrived 3 hours early. An hour in line to check my bags had me dreading security, but it when surprisingly smooth.

They happen to be remodeling the terminal, giving no space at the gate for the gathered passengers, of which about 100 were 16 or younger. Turns out I got to spend a plane ride with a quarter of the Doningtown Marching Band returning triumphant from the Rose Bowl Parade.

 

Their Director, Mr. Lewis who I had a long conversation with, reminded me much of Mr. W, my former jazz band director. It must take strength and patience beyond that of a normal man to coordinate and plan such an adventure for 400 youths. They almost never made it. 

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40823807/ns/local_news-philadelphia_pa/

Changing my flight time gave me only an hour gate to gate in Newark, a situation I much preferred to the 5 hours that I had originally planned for. We were about 25 minutes late. I was in plenty of time however, they were just beginning boarding as I walked up.

Both of my flights were full. I was fortunate to have an empty seat next to me on the Dublin leg. Transcontinental flights are very odd. You board, showing your passports for the 4^th time to various agents. Once on board, you are served a dinner…if it can be called that. I ate the salad. Then they turn out the lights, as you try to get comfortable in a seat that doesn’t quite fit your body in about 4 ways. After 4 hours they turn on the lights again and serve breakfast. Didn’t I just eat dinner?

The young woman next to me is going to Dublin on business, recruiting for Google. What an awesome gig! This is her first business trip abroad. She has no problem falling asleep, unlike myself. I decided to not take Benadryl as I originally intended so that I am not foggy when we land.

I don’t think that the fact I’m almost there has set in yet. I’m sure as the jet lag catches up  to me it will sink in. I already have heard the musical Irish voices, even in speech they are amazing to listen to, like water on rocks.

Customs was a breeze, as was finding my hostel, thanks in no small part to a few friendly bystanders. Once there I ran into a fellow American who is backpacking across Europe. He leaves for London tomorrow and then on to Brussels. "No return ticket!" he told me. I commended his courage, and told him he can always wash dishes on a boat back to America. It sounds harsh to me now, but he seemed to appreciate the sentiment in which the advice was offered. 

Everyone wants to learn English. I have met no less than 4 people that have come here to learn the language. What an amazing way to immerse oneself. I sat down with 2 Frenchmen during my sandwich lunch and helped them with grammar, which they appreciated to no end. But I can only do grammar for so long. Eyes grew heavy. Shower and nap time.

So...Day 1...2...complete already. Check out time is 10am. I have to decide if I want to stay here another day or take off.

Decisions...Decisions...