Galway and last days in Dublin

Galway was amazing. It's a couple hours west of Dublin and is home to a small, artsy, college town. We went there for the Galway Arts Festival. Unfortunately, a lot of the shows were sold out, but we did get to see many street performers and street bands. There were these really cool street performers with puppets from Belgium that were amazing and could rival Syracuse's Open Hand Theatre. I stayed in this really cool hostel in a twelve bed co-ed room, where I met two French girls, one hot Australian guy , one really hot Brazilian guy, who was also friendly and was flirting with me in bad English. If only I knew Portugese, like in Love Actually. There were also two people, a guy and his girlfriend from Switzerland. They gave me the heads up on Switzerland and said that Bern is very beautiful.
We had amazing fish and chips. There was also this really awesome market in the morning that we went to where they had open stalls of everything from jewelry, clothes, fruits and veggies, a crepe food vender (yum!), Indian, Middle-Eastern, fresh juices, etc. I loved it and bought a bag there made out of hemp and silk, because sadly, my birthright bag died. And there was some cool Celtic jewelry and Galway glass. Galway is famous for its woolen sweaters, but I couldn't afford them, unfortunately. The night of the first day we arrived there was the premiere of the last Harry Potter book, so up until midnight, the streets were also packed with Harry Potter fans. I saw two kids wand dueling. It was pretty intense. I ended up buying later a copy of the book in Dublin, because it's cheap here and it has Anglocisms in it. I know Aunt Laurie just got an American version for free, but we can have both. The British version is a lot smaller in size than the American version, for some reason. So it's not that heavy to schlep.

The last few days in Dublin were hectic with papers, but they were also bittersweet. I started wishing I could be here longer to see all the things I didn't get to see. Maybe a family vacation or a group reunion will happen in the near-distant future? Hopefully. And Kilby, my roommate, said she might be able to come down from Toronto to my seder and see Esther's fashion show. Everyone here wants to meet Esther, lol, between the whole twin thing and the fashion. She's famous with her skills and fashion saaviness with all my friends, and she hasn't even met them...Hehe, I bragged a lot about you, Esthi. Anyway, I gotta go to bed, was up late packing, and have to get up early to go to the airport, but thanks for reading my blog. I'll try to update at home on my post-Ireland adventures in London, Switzerland, and hopefully Paris, if I can contact Laurence and if she's available.

Cheers!
Hannah

Glendolough

Pics: Top is picture of the valley where some monastery/church ruins are located. Bottom is a very old book that St. Kevin was supposed to have written.

Before I mention Glendolough, I should mention an adventure that happened right before it. My friends Liz and Kilby and I went into Dundum village one night for dinner, and we ended up going to this tapas place, Buena Sera. It was really good, but the best part was the really hot, newly arrived Spanish waiter. He came over to our table when we were finishing and asked us if we could teach him English. His English was broken and he wanted to improve. He was looking at Liz when he said this. Liz is very pretty and gets hit on a lot here. I think he wanted more than just English lessons from her, hehe. So, of course we couldn't communicate with him, and I tried remembering my Spanish from highschool, but blanked out. Needless to say, David, our Spaniard, gave us his number. He was actually genuine about wanting to better his English, because he kept on saying he wanted to. So we might go back another night and practice English with him.

Okay, onto Glendolough, last weekend's day trip. Glendolough is a small village and hour and a half southwest from Dublin. It is home to St. Kevin's monastery, or at least the ruins of the monastery. Apparently, St. Kevin is very famous among Christians and this is actually a pilgrimage site to go to. There's a museum with all the information. Outside of the village is a cutsie little town Bray, which is very intriguing. Anyway, the funny aspect to this story has to do with how my friends Liz, Kilby and Simone arrived, with Martin (Roper). I took a bus and they took a car (I couldn't go with them because there's a law here where only three passengers can ride in a car, because there are only three seatbelts. So it was my former writing professor (for the first three weeks) and three friends. Well, needless to say, even though I had to pay for my ride, I definitely had the better of the deal with the transportation. My prof, who is a Dubliner, took a wrong turn and they ended up back in Dublin. He's just like you with directions, no offense. But it did make me laugh at how a native Irishman got lost. Anyway, I arrive and call them and they say they are back in Dublin and are still coming, but now an hour and a half late. So I bought a ticket for the museum, looked around, had some lunch, and stayed in the museum to eavesdrop on the French tour group, to see if my French was good enough. The tourguide was speaking a little too fast for me, but I was able to get phrases and words here and there. I withheld the monastery part so that I could see it with my friends. Meanwhile, while I'm eating lunch and enjoying the museum, my friends and Martin are getting pulled over by the Garda (police). They drove up to a checkpoint station to ask for directions and were caught with an uninsured car (in his defense, Martin was driving his friend's car), uninsured driver, and three foreign, uninsured (Irish uninsured) passengers. In short, to be uninsured is highly illegal here. I couldn't help but laugh, because not that Daddy is uninsured, but this is the type of thing he would do, no offense. It's a professor thing.
When they finally arrived, we went to meet a friend of my prof's who lives in the only privately owned house left near the monastery. (We ended up not being able to see the actual monastery :o( ). But it was still cool because this guy built his cottage from scratch. Yep, the gorgeous cottage, which has a B&B attached to it, by the way, was built by this guy. It was incredible. He has a cottage and B&B that overlooks the valley, a lake, and just miles of landscape. He built his own greenhouse and has an immense strawberry and cucumber patch. I was blown away. These people had a cottage, that they built out in the middle of nowhere, and it was so peaceful. My friends and prof took off down one of the trails and walked around the lake (the prof's friend had to cook dinner), where we saw the cave that St. Kevin used to live in when he was a hermit. I was snapping pictures and wishing I could live there. A perfect place to write. We all wished we could live there. Except for the frequent rain and midges, this place was perfect. You would've loved it. It was a nice escape from the city. And on the way back on the bus, an old Irish man was sitting next to me and I found out that he was a writer. It was pretty cool.

Anyway, hoping to go to Galway this weekend, so I have to pack, but tune in for more Irish adventures.

Love,
Hannah

Go team, go!

This Sunday, while most of Ireland was closed and in church, I went to a semifinals Gaelic football and finals hurling game. It kind of reminds me of people skipping synagogue/church to go to an American football game back home on...Not going to mention any names, but you know who you are...Anyway, Gaelic football is different the regular European football, because you can not only kick the ball, but catch it or throw it with your hands. This creates a higher scoring game and more teamwork. In fact, there was so much teamwork that I was wondering if we could somehow get Irish sportsman to go over to the States and tell the American sportsman that teamwork is actually better for the team, and you win more often that way. Nobody tries to hog the ball or show off their individual skills.
Meanwhile, hurling is a mixture of lacrosse, baseball, and violence. The football was violent, some people "accidentally" tripping others, but in the hurling game, people hit each other with their sticks like barbarians, in a stylized manner, of course. It's very fast paced and the stick doesn't have a net, but a large pad. I saw a man catch a fastball with his bare hand. In both games, there were various medics coming onto the field a lot, while the other players (unless it was a grave injury) continued playing as if they didn't notice a man down and a doctor with a medical bag in the middle of the field. I guess this isn't like the army--people are left behind. Meanwhile, in the stands, people were civilized and fans of opposing teams sat next to each other. Even though Ireland is the drinking capital of Europe, at the stadium, people didn't seem to be drunk, as they realized they could focus on the game better when sober. And it didn't hurt that the President of the country was there for the hurling finals. All in all, I had a good time...almost.
I found out that stadium food is bad for you no matter which country you buy it in. After everyone else said that their hotdogs tasted unusual, I chose to have chicken nuggets and fries instead. The fries were bland, so I fed most of them to the pigeons. Twenty minutes post-meal, I started feeling sick and so did everyone else. I tried to hold out for the game, but during the last ten minutes (they actually follow the time here for games), I couldn't hold it any longer and had to rush to the bathroom to get sick. Missed the end of the football game. Then, in the middle of the hurling game, I felt sick again, and let me tell you, getting sick is hard work, because I was pooped afterwards. I could barely keep my eyes open and since some other people wanted to go home, I went home with them. It was pretty obvious that one team was going to win anyway, since they were up by so much.

My embarrassing story of the weekend:
On Sunday morning, I woke up at 5:00am and I was extremely hungry. So, I went to the kitchen and ate the following, by myself, too embarrassed to show myself to a roomie in the living room: three slices of turkey ham, a carrot, three teaspoons of peanut butter, two small yogurts, and an apple, I think. It was pretty unusual.

Other than that, life's the same here, including the weather, which hasn't gone over 65 the whole time here. Usually it feels like the 50s. And we're far north, so our days last really long. Anyhow, I have to go to bed, but talk to you later!

Cheers,
Hannah

Weekend Trip to Kerry/Dingle Peninsula

Kerry and Dingle Peninsula, the southwestern part of Ireland, were gorgeous. I felt like I was in an Irish Cape Cod. Definitely brought back good memories. Kerry was beautiful and we went to the Blasket Islands, which are kind of barren, but people used to live there and some still do. The wind was high and this guy from another program, Ian, offered me his coat to add to my four layers I already had on. (I know, five layers, but for those of you who know me, Hannah the reptile, it was damn cold on that boat.) What a charming display of old fashioned chivalry that made me blush actually. Hasn't happened to me in a while, although all the guys in this IES program are like that, so it's really nice. Oh, and no vomiting on the boat or train ride. Yay!
Anyway, Dingle Peninsula was just like Chatham. It was a small town, with fresh, very good seafood (I had mussels for dinner on Saturday night), and that special smell of the Atlantic Ocean that has always captivated me. It really was like Chatham. I went pubbing (love how I made pubbing into a word like clubbing, because Irish people don't club-they pub)with some friends and was force fed some Guinness when an indignant regular at one of the pubs insisted that I try Guinness instead of Bulmers, the brand that I ordered for a half pint. I'm not much of a beer person, so I pretended that I liked it, even though I still didn't like Guinness on my second taste, and still went for the Bulmers, which was sweeter. What can I say, I guess I'm not a true Irish person for not liking Guinness. Seriously, how do the girls on this trip not gain weight from all the Guinness they're drinking? Irrelevant. I met some really nice drunk Irish girls (drunk Irish people are always much more friendly than they normally are, which is still friendly). I did a lot of my jewelry shopping before dinner that night--I like to shop in small amounts of time to avoid shopping around, so I liked a jeweler and bought a lot from her. Condenses the shopping time.
Sunday, this girl I met on the internship program (I met a lot of interns and they were so nice! and had some kickass internships), Chelsea, and went to the Aquarium, which had a lot of false advertising. Since I was too far away from the puffins on the boat trip to the Blasket Islands, I wanted to see some up close, and some advertised penguins (my latest animal obsession. Not the case. The gift shop had an array of animals in it, but not the actual aquarium. Just fish, although the parrot fish was really cute with its baby cheeks. It was relaxing nonetheless. I felt like the whole weekend was relaxing, because it was definitely a vacation spot. Maybe instead of Cape Cod, the next time we family vacation, we can go to Dingle! They speak Gaelic in Kerry and Dingle, which is cool. For my drunk story (not actually involving me being drunk, but one of my roommates on this trip), ask Esther for details. I don't want to defame her on this blog, although she probably won't ever see, because I have privacy lines on this, but still. Long story short: drunk "Sally" got into bed with me while she was sleepwalking.
List of my adventures:
1. Almost losing my right arm on the monorail.
2. Fighting the laundry machine to give me back my clothes (the door wouldn't open)
3. Almost losing my jacket with the keys in it.
4. My computer not working for the first week and a half.
5. Realizing the computer needed a mike for Skype and having a one-voice skype instant messaging conversation with my parents. They thought I couldn't hear what they were saying (as they couldn't hear my voice) but I totally listened on their conversation between themselves, and also their joking remarks about painting my room Grandma purple and hiding all of my teddy bears/stuffed animals.
6. Not getting a library card during orientation or realizing that you needed a library card to check out books. I managed to check out a book without a card. Then I realized something was wrong, mainly me being an idiot.
7. Getting my key stuck in the gate lock, effectively jamming it in there and having to call a joking locksmith. The rundown: call Patricia, my RA-not there. Call Regina, the housing liaison. Get the number for Karina, in charge of the complex. Karina calling the locksmith. The locksmith accusing me of breaking the lock on purpose,jokingly of course, before he told me that this happened to someone before me, so it was already almost broken.

Tune in for more adventures and blogging!

Love,
Hannah

The first weekend

The first picture is of the actors on Bloomsday. The second is of Bailey's headquarters.

Well, I can't figure out how to open the washing machine, which has my clothes in it. The door mechanism is harder than it looks. But other than that, I'm fine. Some friends and I went to the James Joyce Festival, otherwise known as Bloomsday, yesterday. There were actors reading from Ulysses, Joycian music, and overall fun. We also went downtown and saw the shopping area, where they have two main shopping streets that are cobblestone and always blocked off from traffic, kind of like a reserved pedestrian shopping area. We could walk in the street without having to worry. So we basically window shopped, as we were still not use to the area. In the middle of the day, I fell asleep in a cafe when we stopped for coffee, as I do not remember an hour of the day. So I must have been unconscious. Damn this jetlag.

Trinity University is very nice here and very beautiful. I wish my campus was like that. I finished my first writing assignment, that restricted dialogue, which was really hard for me, but I know it's to work on the non-dialogue aspect to a story. Now I am going to finish reading the Joyce required reading. I went food shopping last night, and due to my bargain shopping knowledge taught to me by Mommy, I bought quite a few ammenities for only 29 Euro. Not bad for a full basket of food. They had turkey ham, so I bought that for deli, and they had new Activia, which has muesli and other yummy concoctions with its yogurt now. The store bought sushi for dinner was cheap and very yummy, which was pre-packaged from the famous sushi restaurant here, AYA.

One interesting thing here, that doesn't have to do with food, is that it is cheaper to text-message than to actually call someone. You get charged for every call, even if it's local. Although in-coming calls are free. I haven't used my phone except for the alarm on it, but that was interesting to know. Anyway, I have to go read some more Joyce. Tonight is cheap, fresh mussels night, and tomorrow we see The Crucible, wihch isn't Irish, but oh well. Check in for more later!
Cheers!
Hannah
P.S. And edited version: to placate Mom: I did have for my first meal, salmon and potato cakes (similar to crab cakes) at a pub that were really delicious.

First two days in Ireland

This picture of the apartment is of the kitchen, obviously, because I was impressed with its size and counterspace.
The other picture is of a pub we went to tonight, which had a funny name, as you'll see, (hopefully you've read this book in American Literature classes).

Dublin really is beautiful, but because it's booming, there is a lot of construction, making it look less than beautiful. Kinda like summer in Syracuse or Binghamton. Other than that it is gorgeous and rustic, like European cities. Dublin is very eco-friendly, so they charge for plastic bags at grocery stores, the hot water has a timer on it, and so many people ride bikes that there is a bike lane right in the road on the side of the car's lane next to the curb. The toilets have two flush settings--a smaller amount of water for pee and a larger amount of water for poop. Saves a lot of water in the long run.
My apartment is very nice. It's like a condo and would cost, by my estimate, $5,000 a month if this were in NYC. The flats are rented out to businessmen normally. There is a kitchen with a washing machine in it, a decent size with good counterspace. There is an open dining room/living room. There is a broom closet with cleaning things, but not the actually fluids, just the brooms and such. There are two double rooms, the bigger one having its own full bath, the smaller one (Kilby's and mine) having dibs to the common bigger full bath across the hall, like two or three feet across the hall. It's really nice and was just built (the complex) last year. Everything is art-deco/modern in style. My flat is kind of far from the center where the class is, like a 35-45 minute monorail ride away, but it's a nicer place because of that. The closer flats are not as nice. The one good thing about being also a stop away even from town, is that we have a mall with Europe's (or maybe just the UK and Ireland) most popular grocery store chain right in it, Tesco's, that is open 24/7.

Anyway, I am going to bed earlier than usual, because I find I can somehow stick to a nice bedtime schedule abroad. I really should adapt that schedule to school and home, but oh well. Cheers!

Love,
Hannah
P.S. Craic, pronounced crack, means fun in Gaelic, so people will often be heard saying, "Did you have craic last night?"
P.P.S. Some flat buildings, the ones attached to each other on the sides, have a different color for each door, not just blue or red as people would think. It was pretty cool. The doors of Dublin are famous for the multi-colored system.

London!

Picture: These guards are what I wanted to see, but didn't get to, because these uniforms are too hot in the summer.

Okay, so after a horrible flight, it was too late to do anything on Tuesday, so I ate dinner, read some of my required reading and went to bed. I couldn't get in touch with my British friends, so unfortunately, I didn't get to see them. Maybe I can see them on my way back. Anyway, after having bad effects (stomach and head) from jetlag, I got off to a late start this morning, Wednesday, and took the tube to Green Park. I proceeded to go to Buckingham Palace, following signs all around the park that contradicted each other in terms of directions. The guards weren't wearing their traditional garb, because it was a warm day :o(. Because of the sign contradictions, I ended up (after the palace) in St. James Park and attempted to find Westminster Abby. After learning that it was a thirty minute walk from the park, (and after walking over 3 miles to find the park exit to Westminster), I decided it would be another time and left to go back to my hotel, The Royal National Hotel, which sounded better on the British Airways site than it really was. But I had an okay time in London.