When a Hurricane Hits Ireland

Tonight’s exciting adventure picks up on last Saturday morning, the 10th of September. In an effort to find a grander adventure than the one we had on Friday, Chelsea, Scott and I decided to spend the day on the Aran Islands, specifically, the largest island, Inis Mor. So at 8:30, we left the warmth and calm of our apartments to walk downtown to Eyre Square, where buses leave from, and we boarded a bus run by the ferry company to get to the ferry port about a half an hour away. I was seated beside an excitable woman from Pennsylvania, near the Philadelphia area as a matter of fact. That tenuous connection between us was still enough for her to keep up a conversation for the bulk of the time. Upon arrival at the port in a small town, we three students boarded the ferry and passed the time quickly with good conversation (a staple of travel I’ve discovered). Forty-five minutes later we arrived on the blustery island where we visited the tourist information center to procure a map and determine an itinerary. We decided to rent bikes for the day and bike on a hilly road through the middle of the island to the castle ruins on a cliff, and then follow a downhill path along the coast on the way back. The ride was gorgeous, albeit, tough. Clearly I am no longer in the same kind of shape that I once was in. However, that was the day that the remnants of a hurricane were to hit the island, and the wind soon started blowing us off course. For a time, rain pelted our faces as if someone was shooting a Beebe gun at us.

But the ride was worth it because of the rough and wild landscape that was dotted with thatched-roof houses, cows, and icons of the Virgin Mary and the Crucifixion. We finally reached a car park that was at the base of the hill where the castle ruins reside, and we stopped for a late lunch. Chelsea and I ordered a fantastically tasty beef and Guinness stew topped with mashed potatoes that warmed us to the bone and prepared us for the walk up to the ruins (Scott got lasagna, just in case you were wondering).

We were not anticipating the steep walk to the ruins, and as we climbed, the wind and the beauty of the views intensified. By the time we reached the top, I was literally being blown over, though I never fell over completely, being a sturdy 140 lbs (thank goodness for that!). The ruins stretched out quite far into the landscape, and walls still stood from the late Bronze Age! The remaining walls were in rings, and upon entering the inner-most ring, you enter an opening that abutted the sheer cliff that I was just too frightened to get to close too considering the strength of the wind. Someone in the group there threw an empty coke bottle towards the cliff, but the wind riding up the side of the rock wall picked it up, and as everyone watched, it rose a good twenty feet in the air and then flew backwards over the walls and out of sight. The power of wind is remarkable sometimes.

Chelsea wanted to look over the cliff, so she got down on her belly and army crawled to the edge, were she marveled at the drop (87 meters we found out later) and I watched her anxiously. After about a half an hour, we agreed upon descent. At the bottom we stopped to read about the history of the ruins at an indoor museum and then decided that it was the time to head back to catch the last ferry in time. Unfortunately, we tried to leave on our bikes at the same time as a group of about 50 German high-school-aged students and as we flew down a hill, we realized how scary it is to ride in such a large pack with little control over your speed, so we stopped and waited for them to pass us. By now, the sky was starting to look threatening and the waves were getting large. The wind was howling something awful as well! So we rode back towards town with all haste prompted by nervousness. After what felt like ages, we arrived back at the port, returned our bikes and even had time to stop in the store that sold masses of the famous Aran Island wool sweaters. I will admit that I had to get one; a nice green with wooden buttons that has already kept my marvelously and stylishly warm. The ferry ride was the last one of the day at 5 pm, and it was over packed with no seats to be had. Many people stood as we sailed across the choppy waters. On the bus ride back to Eyre Square I was once again seated next to a chatty partner, but this man was a lifelong resident of The Island headed into Galway for a visit for the night and pelted me with questions about the states (you live near Boston?! I have family in Boston!). He was a fisherman and was only too happy to tell me about his six-week old son named Liam is was just starting to smile. I was glad for the company to keep my occupied, because at this point, I was so cold and wet and tired that I tried not to think about the walk back to our apartment from Eyre Square. However, made it we did, where all three of us demurely entered our apartments to throw ourselves on the couch. Luckily, my friends weren’t up to going out, and we had a lovely girl’s night that never required me to leave the couch as we watched P.S. I Love You. All in all, it was an excellent day.

My photos and descriptions will never do The Island justice and you should visit it yourself if you ever can. People are very friendly, and the scenery makes you want to stop and take a picture every couple hundred yards. Additionally, you should partake in Beef and Guinness Stew if you ever get a chance, because it is marvelous when you’re cold and wet. I hope you get a chance to do all those things and more!

Follow the Signs

Since I’ve written last, I’ve done a little bit of traveling, but mostly I’ve been trying to figure out my classes, which is a frustrating and daunting task in a country that is not my own and in a school that is very different from mine. Scheduling conflicts and credit transfers and seminars vs. lectures – it seems just too much sometimes. But alas! All things will find a way in the end, even if it causes me frustration and confusion, because, I suppose, that is the way of the world.

But in any case, you would rather hear about the side-trips that I’ve been taking. I can assure you that they’re nothing grand seeing as how college students are cheap and I can’t leave the country until my appointed meeting with the Garda (Irish Police) on September 22 where I prove to them that I’m not a terrorist and that I have enough money to be in this country for 3 more months.

On Friday morning, a lot of my friends went off to see the Cliffs of Moher because they somehow found a way not to have any class on Fridays. Luckily for me, I have class at 11. However, so does another friend, and a few of us waited until the afternoon and decided to merely go exploring and we took a 13 o’clock bus into the countryside. We stopped at a town called Oughterard and got out to be touristy and pop in the shops and take pictures. However, it took me almost no time at all to realize that my camera was gone and that it must have fallen out on the rather disconcerting bus-ride that went dizzyingly fast on a narrow windy road where the brush and trees actually scraped against the windows. In a panic at my own stupidity and inattentiveness we quickly found the number to the bus company in Galway and I explained my situation. The man I spoke with was very calm and nice and promised to call me back within a few hours. With nothing else to do about it, we set off towards a lake on the edge of town that was indicated by a sign with an arrow in the town center. Too bad there was only the one sign…

Chelsea, Scott, Carlee and myself walked and walked, in some rather areas with horses and such, but still, we figured that we had to be lost. Finally we saw the lake in the distance to our right, and attempted to make our way there. However, as anyone who has ever spent a good amount of time with me can tell you, I have absolutely no sense of direction. After a little bit longer it was getting hot (an exciting and rare occurrence here!) and Carlee and Chelsea suggested that we just turn around and head back into town. However, around the same time, a big sandy dog that to me looked like a lion had bounded up to us and was walking a little bit of ahead of us, but always turning around to keep us in sight. We stopped at a point where a little dirt road came off of our road and the dog bounded down it. Scott and I were game to follow, but Chelsea and Carlee were thoroughly unconvinced that the road would lead anywhere and were adamant that we should turn back. However, the dog seemed insistent that should follow him down this road and he kept running back to see if we were coming. Scott and I decided that it was a sign, and we told the girls to stay there and that we would just go around the corner and have a peek down the road.

Believe it or not, that dog had led us to the lake. There it was around the corner! It was large and beautiful and we took lots of pictures of it as the dog jumped in and ran around and shook his coat on us. I decided that because of his looks like a lion, and the prophet-like quality he had because of his opportune appearance and directions, I would name him Aslan, after the lion in the Chronicles of Narnia. I continue to refer to this mysterious dog as such, even though Chelsea insists that it is inappropriate to name a dog Aslan because one would not name a dog Jesus. I’m still trying to figure out what that one means, but I feel as if it’s not the same thing since Aslan is in fact, fictional…

In any case, we finally headed back into town, and as we walked, I received a call from the friendly bus man to tell me that my same bus was making a stop in Oughterard in 20 minutes time, and that the driver had my camera safe and sound for me. Huzzah! So we walked back into town, waited for the bus, retrieved my camera and headed back to Galway, where we finished the nice afternoon with a walk along shop street and down to the bay where we got milkshakes and ice cream. An interesting day for sure, but a good one.

Soaking Wet!

Dear readers, have you ever been in a car on a day where the rain is just coming down in diagonally slanted sheets, and you’re driving along, glad you’re inside the car and warm, when a puddle the size of a small pond is coming up and you have no choice but to drive through it? Perhaps you’ve even splashed the water onto some poor shmuck who had the misfortune of walking in that rain with naught but an umbrella and a jacket? Well dear readers, today I was that poor shmuck that you splashed water on. And wearing canvas shoes no less (in my defense it was sunny and still when I left this morning)! However, not only did I have the misfortune of being splashed on once, I had the misfortune of being splashed on three gloriously soggy times on my walk home from classes today. And what to do in such a situation? Honestly, I started laughing. I just walked and laughed at the whole situation. What else can you do? All I could think of was how I just became that poor shmuck without a car and forced to walk in the pouring rain. However, given that this is Ireland, so are about a million other people. The experiences of travel are varied, but I took this as just another aspect of the adventure. After all, it’s just a bit of water, and I am in no way green, so I needn’t worry.

The first day of classes was less strenuous than I had convinced myself they would be. All of my classes are on this area known as the concourse, which means that the 10 minutes given between classes gives me about 7 extra minutes to just sit there and look around. My first class was an archaeology class that looks at castle building in medieval Ireland and includes a field trip (yay!) in October. My European politics class assembled and waited for 20 minutes before we realized that no lecturer seemed to be coming, so we left and I got to have a half an hour of talk time with a very nice girl named Kathy who wanted to know how much America is really like the “Jersey Shore.” A modern Irish history class looks to be very interesting as well and promised an in-depth look into the culture of the American-Irish following the mass migration of the potato famine. All together it proved to be an interesting and wet day and I learned that the Irish students are entirely up to going out every single night here…

Going into Galway

After several days of seeing nothing of Galway besides our apartment complex, the mini-mall across the street, and a bit of campus, I finally ventured into Galway City. Saturday I walked in with several other girls who wanted to go to T.K. Maxx (haha) and we sort of scraped the surface of the city as we searched for cheap bath mats and Brita filters. It’s not what one would expect from the word city in that sense. There are very few buildings over 3 or 4 stories, and walking its winding streets evokes a village feel. The houses are set in rows and connect in neat angular boxes that stretch the length of the street, but what is so rustically charming about them is that each front door is different, and each “house” is painted a different color. So, imagine if you would, different colored wooden blocks that you may have played with as a child. They’re all the same size, so if you stand them up and squish them together, you would achieve a colorful array reminiscent of these houses.
During our excursion I finally purchases a cheap phone and minutes so that I no longer had to communicate with people by window talking (a surprisingly fun thing that we’d all been doing for days given the set-up of our apartments around a small central courtyard). As the afternoon reared its head, so did hunger and we decided to pop into a pub that promised food with a sign outside. So we sat down and ordered a few drinks and then asked for the food menu when we were informed that they didn’t actually sell food anymore. FALSE ADVERTISING. But seeing as how we’d already committed we sat around and watched the horse racing on the screen and talked and drank a Bulmer’s Irish Cider. It was rather nice tasting to be honest, nothing too harsh or too alcoholic. Finally we headed home and it was decided among the masses that we had to go out! So finally I had been persuaded, and I put on what I deemed a nice top and non-sneaker shoes, and we all gathered in apartment 30. People from across the complex slowly leaked in as everyone talked, and I’m happy to say that I made several new friends whom I really like and who made the evening very enjoyable. Some boys who had gone out the night before informed us that no one in the city starts going out until after midnight, so we stayed in the apartment until close to 11, but my new friends were going to visit their friends (also more American students) at another apartment down the street, so we set off into the night, which was startlingly nice. Once there, we met up with some people I already knew and at least a few other people who go to school in the US with one of my best friends from high school, so I made a few more fast friends. Around midnight we finally decided to head into the city and I merely followed those who had been going out since we got here.
As we wound our way into the city, I was fascinated! The city was alive in a way it hadn’t been during the day. The mild and dry night (and doubtless other things) had coaxed hundreds of people into the tiny windy streets of Galway. There were so many people! It was absolutely vibrant with music and light and people pouring out of every building. As a girl from a town where even the street-lights turn off at 10 pm, I was blown away. I truly enjoyed people watching as we searched for a place to go. We popped into several places but didn’t stay long. More than anything I enjoyed talking with these people I had decided to spend the night with. We talked and we walked for hours and I truly enjoyed myself. Something I’ve discovered over the years that almost nothing makes for a better night than finding people whom you can have stimulating conversation with for hours without feeling bored by it, and that’s what makes traveling fun – the people. And that is why when people worry about the state of our generation and our technology addiction, nervous that it will suck the human value of interaction out of our lives, I realize that we would never let that happen.
Finally we met up with another friend and decided upon a pub where we sat and talked until closing time at 2 am. At this time I was exhausted but no, the Irish will have none of that. Just because the bars were closed, there seemed nothing to deter the hundreds of young people from walking around in masses and ordering food at restaurants opened late and just sort of congregating. We stopped in a place to share a plate of “garlic chips” which were fries smothered with a creamy garlic sauce. Delicious. Finally we headed back the apartment and I fell into bed at 3:30 in the morning. I was a fun night, but man is it exhausting to walk all over town until 3 in the morning!
Everyone slept in late this morning, but we all got together go back into town and watch the hurling match finals at a pub called the King’s Head in town. I got a delicious sandwich and we enjoyed the confusing match on a big projector screen. It’s quite like field hockey, and lacrosse mixed together, with plenty of whacking each other with sticks. It was yet another enjoyable time sitting around with people to talk to, and to listen to.
Tomorrow starts classes, but that doesn’t seem to deter our new Irish roommates who are even at this very moment, drunkenly singing on the other side of my door. They certainly know how to have a party here…

Tired Times in Ireland

Finally, some time to sit down and tell you all how I’ve been faring since I wrote last. I took my flight out of Boston at around quarter to 7 on Tuesday night. The flight was fine and uneventful. I tried to sleep, but instead just sort of laid in stasis mode with my eyes closed for about 2 hours. I arrived at Dublin airport at around quarter past 5 in the morning local time. I had to wait about 45 minutes before I luggage came around on the carousel, and I tried to call my mom (as per her specific instructions) on a borrowed Irish cell phone, which, naturally, doesn’t seem to work. So, without the ability to contact anyone, save those within my immediate vicinity, I exchanged my dollars for Euros and headed outside.

My instructions had been to catch the bus to the hotel in Merrion Square and to check in with my name when I got there, so I wandered around and found many taxis but no buses. So I walked a ways down the concourse until I found a man at a counter next to a bus! Relieved, I asked him for a ticket to Merrion Square as the bus pulled away and he informed me that that was indeed the bus I had needed to be on. However, another bus was to arrive in 15 minutes time. However, I really wish that I had been on that first bus because right behind me was an American woman who clearly was in desperate need of a companion because I’m not sure she stopped talking until I finally got off the bus some forty minutes later. Sorry, she did stop talking – long enough for me to answer each of her probing questions about myself of course.

I found the hotel easy enough. It was across the street from Oscar Wilde’s house! However, they did not seem to have any record of me and the man seemed utterly perplexed, so he instructed me to sit in the lounge which was occupied by only two other people talking animatedly. The woman was hard not to overhear, and as I sat I realized what she was talking about, so I asked her: “Are you talking about Study Abroad in Galway? For Butler?” She was surprised but answered in the affirmative. I told her who I was and she was shocked!
“But you were supposed to get in at 9:30.”
“Uh…sorry, no. At 5:15.”
“Oh! Well, I’m Arlene and I was sent here to meet you guys when you got here. This is Stephen, he got here at the same time you did.”
Naturally.
We discovered later that we had arrived at the same time, just in different terminals, and that he had just gotten a cab as a matter of convenience. So I had met up with my group and we had breakfast and talked for a couple of hours more until everyone was up and ready to go over to the offices around 9:45. The group had orientation (well, the rest of the group had been getting daily instructions for 2 days, but a few of us had just joined in. We were briefed on the important things like how to get medical care in an emergency and how to make potato and leek soup with one of those hand-held blenders. I hate to admit it, but seeing as how I had now been awake for about 24 hours, I dozed off a couple of times. But have no fear! – Several others did as well. Luckily, everything had been written down and given to us in a packet of information.

Finally, at around 1:30 we were let out for lunch at a charming little place I believe was called Gas Can Harry’s. My ham sandwich was so-so, but I did get a side of “chips” which were good with some ketchup. Afterwards we piled on a bus to head to Galway. I sat with a nice girl named Chelsea who goes to Vanderbilt and we talked for a while before we agreed to enjoy the scenery in quiet. For me this meant falling asleep in my seat until Arlene shouted “wake up!” because she needed to pass out more papers and cards and contracts needed to be signed. She was tickled to death that it had worked in waking me up, but really, why wouldn’t it?

Once in Galway we got our apartments assigned and a lecture about all the things we needed to do and needed to know….at 5:30. Needless to say, I was, at this point, in a bit of a trance and decided to rely on information from the more alert groups that had been in Dublin for 2 days and were well rested. Molly was assigned my roommate, and we quickly realized that before we could do anything, we needed the essentials such as sheets, toilet paper, and beer. So with a few other girls we went in search of dinner and a store. It was found 5 minutes or so walk down the street, but the whole thing turned into a confused ordeal as 5 girls traversed a mini-mall on the side of a busy road that held several fast food restaurants and stores. Finally deciding on Subway, we managed not only to confuse ourselves, but the poor staff as well (including when Bailey asked for chips and the confused man had to explain to her that they don’t serve chips, until he caught on that she was American and instructed her to say “crisps”). Somehow we managed to confusedly walk back and forth for another hour and a half, something that was really just more of a blur for me as I followed along in a docile stupor. When we got back to the apartments everyone was walking around and asking everyone to go out to the pubs and the clubs. Are you kidding me?! There was no way. So I declined and made my bed and put everything away, delivered some semblance of order to our tiny shared room, took a shower and threw myself in bed around 22:30. Oi.

Naturally, the return of the group was at 2:30 am, and the courtyard echoes. I have never noticed just how LOUD drunk people are until 2:30 this morning until they woke me up.

All too soon it was 7:30 and I got up to eat my cereal and change into something that I hadn’t been wearing for 2 days straight. As the oh-so-subtle Jack, who lives next door, explained to me only an hour or so ago, he had given me that first day as a grace period because he understood that I hadn’t showered or slept in a while. Thanks Jack.

This morning we met Arlene outside and walked to the University for International Student Orientation. It lasted a few hours, consisted of many PowerPoints, and yet another packet of information; but I took notes and am now quite convinced that I must rush out and join several clubs/go to many events on campus. We had the afternoon to ourselves, so many people went further into the city to find a phone store and explore. But Stephen and myself were still quite tired (and Stephen was hung-over), so we found lunch at the student center, opened our bank accounts at the bank on campus, and then walked back to the apartments where we spent some time laughing at some absurd and queer BBC show and some time blurting out answers at that mean host of the Weakest Link (You ARE the weakest link – goodbye!).
After Steve left, so did Molly to go for a run. I went upstairs to plan my next shopping trip that would involve more than sheets, toilet paper and a box of cereal. I heard a noise downstairs and went to investigate when I found the door open. I watched Molly close and lock the door, so I was in ready-to-pounce mode as I looked around. Finally, when I decided it had done it on its own, I tried the door several times and still couldn’t get it to lock or stay closed. The office closes and 17.00, so naturally it was 10 past. But, luckily, there was a maintenance man doing odd jobs and he saw me looking utterly perplexed and offered his assistance. Turns out that to get the door to stay closed you must turn the handle first down and then up. Well I felt like an idiot. But, we talked for a bit and it turns out he lived in Massachusetts for 7 years and cheers for the Patriots, Bruins, and Celtics as well. He also informed me that there were 2 other girls across the courtyard that were living by themselves and were decidedly lonely. So, I walked over to apartment 10 and introduced myself. I forget if her name is Tika or Kita…but it’s something like that and she’s an Erasmus student from Germany. We talked for a while and she was quite nice. Finally I headed to the store and went a little crazy with the food (well, 2 bags’ worth) and I had to carry it myself back to the apartments.

My plans for pasta were foiled when I realized after 15 minutes that my water was just not going to boil on a range that doesn’t get hot – or luck-warm for that matter. So, knowing the boys who live next door, I requested the use of their stove and offered to share my pasta. The pasta was declined, but I did manage to make a sufficient mess of the kitchen; first by making a hard-to-open bag of pasta into an exploding bag of pasta, and second by burning my forgotten-about buns in the oven. I’m a great houseguest.

Naturally when I finished and returned to my apartment, I once again gave the stove a looking-over and found a big red button beneath the cabinets that said ON/OFF. I flicked it on and guess what turned on!

Once again tonight most everyone in the complex left to go out drinking and dancing while my tired eyes remained behind. But they won’t let me get away with it for long – Molly made me promise to go out tomorrow night. Ha! We’ll see how that goes…