train to voss

Six forty-six PM, Norway time (whatever time zone that is), December 28, 2007. Brian and I are sitting on a train and making the long, dark, journey to Voss. We’re on the, ‘most beautiful train ride on Earth,” but it’s dark. Our plan was to catch the 10:33 train heading to the same place – unfortunately, this train was full.

It’s a small miracle we even made it to Oslo’s train station to figure this out. When Brian and I were planning our departure from Jessheim last night, I said, “At the very latest, we need to be walking out of the apartment at 9.” As it turns out, I was running around like a madman trying to pack my things at 9:05. We literally ran from Espen’s apartment to the train station in Jessheim. Ran with our packs on our back. Nonetheless, we made the journey that should have taken twenty minutes by walking in about 8 minutes by jogging. We arrived at Oslo’s station thirty minutes later only to find the train was full.

Time for plan B. Brian actually handled the situation better than I did. It was frustrating knowing we’d miss the train ride in the daylight. But, as Brian said, ‘There’s nothing we can do. We’ll figure out something different.” After doing some research at the station, we found a “Norway in a Nutshell” tour. We’ll leave from Voss tomorrow morning at 8:40 and via train, bus, and boat tour the mountains and fjords surrounding Voss. We’ll end up back in Oslo late tomorrow evening. I guess things do happen for a reason.

As of right now, we’re four and a half hours into a seven-hour train ride. We’ll be (assuming they have room) staying at a hostel in Voss tonight – a hostel which advertises a sauna. Perfect. Anyway, I wanted to sit down and share a couple funny quotes and scenarios that Brian and I have found ourselves in over the past day.

As we were relaxing yesterday at Espen’s apartment (the friend of our couchsurfing host), we were talking about the mountains and fjords that cover much of Norway. Espen was telling us how he used to live right at the base of a mountain – one that he worked on the top of. Sounds beautiful, yes? Well, Espen said to us, “It’s great to be able to look at the fjords and mountains in this country, but it really sucks to live by them.” It would clearly add hours to your travel times – which probably explains why we’re in the middle of a seven-hour train ride.

Brian and I spent the greater part of today at the train station – buying tour passes, train passes, food, and coffee. Needless to say, we had to make more than one trip to the minibank (ATM). The currency in Norway has taken some getting used to. Not in the fact that the notes and currency are difficult to become familiar with (they actually look very similar to Euros), but in the fact that you go to the minibank and withdraw 500, 1000, 2000, etc. Krones. You feel loaded until you buy a cup of coffee for 40 Krones, a sandwich for 60 Krones, and a train ticket for 475 Krones. But, as we continued to buy things today, I kept saying to Brian, “It doesn’t matter Brian, they’re only Krones!”

Our two seats on the train are separated by three feet before you find yourself looking face to face with another two people. It’s impossible not to want to have a staring contest with your neighbor. Our two neighbors were eating some delicious looking Norwegian pastries earlier - topped with cheese and filled with what appeared to be some sort of meat. I told Brian I couldn’t help but hungrily eye them with the hopes they would offer to share. “If I was on a train in Iowa with some Norwegians,” I told Brian, “I’d offer them some of my sweet corn.”

Brian and I are storing our luggage at the train station in Oslo. It was relatively cheap (they’re only Krones), and it will be nice not to have to carry our packs for the next day. For whatever reason, as we were leaving our packs, I decided I’d leave my shoes and wear my chaco sandals with my socks. Why? First, it had quite frankly been quite warm since we’d arrived in Oslo. Second, there wasn’t much snow to speak of. And, to be true, I hate shoes. This decision is becoming more and more apparently ridiculous as the amount of snow at each stop continues to add up. I was just now reading to Brian about a place in Voss where we can get cheap Norwegian food. Brian replies with, “Great, now I just hope I can find a place that sells nice sandals.”

jessheim

Brian and I got off the train in Jessheim (yes heim) yesterday evening around 11 or 12. It immediately felt like we were in Norway - it was cold, clear, and the streets were lined with snow. We were unsure of where we were supposed to go. Our couchsurfing host was at a party and hadn't yet returned our call. I'm sure we looked of lost travelers as we walked up the main street of Jessheim (a town of 14,000) with our backpacks - surely not an every day site in the middle of a Norwegian winter.

As we walked past a number of small bars, a couple of things became clear to me. Firstly, I was premature in my evaluation of the Norwegian women. They are beautiful. Secondly, it became clear that the people of Norway are wonderful. Three or four guys drinking outside of a pub had flagged us over to them. They wanted to know what in the world we were doing in Jessheim. We explained our stories. As we were getting ready to leave, one of the guys reached into his pocket and tried to give me a 100 Krone note (equivalent to about €15). I told him I couldn't take his money - he then insisted on going inside and buying us two beers.

We made our way to meet up with our couchsurfing host - Oyvind. We were greeted by Oyvind and his friend Espen and they immediately insisted we take some shots and go to the local bar. We had too many expensive pints, made fools of ourselves on the dance floor, but had a wonderful night out in our first Norwegian town. We spent most of today sleeping - Brian and I are both drained after the Christmas festivities and a day of traveling.

We plan on getting up early tomorrow and heading to Oslo to catch a train towards either Bergen or Voss. Our Lonely Planet Norway book describes the Oslo - Bergen railway as, "one of the most spectacular rail journeys on Earth." Sounds like a plan?

Below are some of my latest pictures as well as a video of our Christmas day swimming adventure.

notice the howling wind.

Getting dressed for Christmas mass. Brian had forgot how to tie a tie.


Walking to mass with a pint. It only seemed right.


Perfectly prepared Irish coffees for Christmas morning (brown sugar, whiskey, coffee, and a mix of pouring cream and whipped cream). They are supposed to look like pints of Guinness. I'd say they do!

emma.




a christmas afternoon nap

At the Dublin airport. Temporary bar facility? We were walking through the terminal and I wasn't sure whether the area where we would be would have a pub. I said to a lady how was coming the other way, "Are there pubs and restaurants this way?" She replied with, "You're in Ireland. There are pubs everywhere." Perfect response to a silly question.

Our last pints of Guinness with a shot of Paddys whiskey.

Goodbye Ireland.
On the tarmac.

City centre, Oslo.



My notes. "Excuse me, we need to get here."
Waiting for the train. We missed the first one.
Jessheim's main street.

Skål (cheers), and all the best, mk.

the latest ...

The latest craic – craic being news. It’s been some time since I have last sat down to write and post to my blog. Today is Christmas day. Let me take this opportunity to wish you all a very, “Happy Christmas,” as the Irish say. Sadly, this also marks the last time I’ll post to my blog from Ireland. Twenty four hours from now I’ll be airborne, in route to Oslo. My time in Ireland is nearly finished.

My last week in Ireland has been great. It has, though, been full of goodbyes. I've said goodbye to many wonderful people. It’s often difficult to say goodbye, but this is an inevitable aspect of the lifestyle that I’m choosing to live. I’m going to find places I love and have to leave them. I’m going to meet and get to know great people only to say goodbye. It’s all part of the adventure.

-------------

As I write this I’m sitting in the Dublin airport. It doesn’t seem like four months ago that Brian and I arrived. I’m not ready to leave, but I am excited for the next stage of my journey. I’m drinking a pint of Guinness with Brian – our last pints on the Emerald Isle.

I must say that I’ll never forget Christmas of 2007. Yesterday afternoon, myself and about ten other friends made our way to the Salthill swimming pier. It was cold, windy, and raining. This somehow didn’t stop us from jumping off a twenty-five foot swimming platform into the frigid waters of the bay. It was extremely cold, yet unbelievably invigorating. What a way to end my stay in Galway.

It’s 11:40 and Brian and I leave for Oslo in about forty-five minutes. We get into the Oslo Torp airport at 3:45 – it will have been dark for about an hour already. Our plans? Well, we don’t really have any. I need to get the number for our couchsurfing host – we’ll give him a call and see what happens. Thanks to you all for following me throughout my time in Ireland. Cheers, and all the best from Ireland for the final time - mdk

------------------

I'm alive and in Oslo. Said Oslo Torp airport is apparently nowhere near the city of Oslo. Thanks Ryan Air for flying Brian and I into the middle of nowhere. After about a two hour train ride to the tune of 630 Krones, we finally arrived in Oslo city center. We met an interesting Norweigan character who led us off the train and showed us where Oslo city center was. I don't have much time to write, but I wanted to let you all know I'm here and safe. I must say it's a shock to be in a country where English isn't the main language spoken. Also, the Norwegian women aren't nearly as tall, blond, and gorgeous as I expected them to be!

brief update

So, I've been trying to keep my birthday under the radar. I don't see much of a reason to get excited about birthdays. They're important, yes, but don't require special nights out, presents, and the like. I'll be twenty three years old. I think a person should step back on their birthday and think about their life. Think about the person they've become. Think about what they want to accomplish with the rest of their life. Be thankful to be alive. But, this doesn't require any action by anyone else.

I'm working Friday night - I didn't see any reason to ask off. Quite frankly, I didn't even think about it. I need the money. I like my job. So, I'll work on the night of my birthday. But, as a coworker was leaving work tonight, she asked, "So, how old are you going to be on Friday Matty?"

"Twenty three," I instinctively said. "But, whoa, wait, how did you know?"

So, who knows what will happen! I guess, if someone wants to treat me to a pint of Guinness, I won't probably say no. It's actually good for you, you know.

We've had some luck searching for couches in Norway. I've lined up a place to stay on the 26th when we arrive in Oslo. Brian purchased a Lonely Planet Norway book and has been researching and planning some sort of an itinerary for our time there. Fjords. Viking Ships. Who knows? From what I've read, despite being extremely expensive, Norway should be absolutely beautiful.

I realized today how much I love this town. I could see myself living here. I'm quite happy in Galway. Hell, I haven't left since I arrived nearly two months ago. I think this is mostly because I really enjoy my job. I guess not surprisingly, I really like the hospitality industry. I enjoy the interaction with our customers. But I do reckon I'll be happy wherever I eventually decide to settle down. I loved Iowa City and could see myself there. I loved Washington, DC, and could see myself there. Atlantic, well, I'm not sure I could settle down in Atown.

My roommates and I are planning our Christmas. We'll make some sort of a dinner. Actually, I think Brian is going to bring a ham and a turkey from the Delphi Lodge. We also intend on jumping into Galway Bay. I made the suggestion weeks ago. It seemed like a interesting way to celebrate Christmas. Crazy, I know. Stupid, probably. Will it actually happen? We'll see.

your one

Today is the 15th of December - amazing how time flies. I have less than two weeks before I leave Ireland. I'll miss this place, really, I will. Everything about it. I was walking up Shop Street today after work - it was windy, cold, and I was wrecked after eight hours at the cafe (I've caught another cold). As I was walking up the street, I said out loud to no one except myself and everyone that was walking by, "I'm going to fucking miss this country."

I'm not sure what prompted it. One of the street performers playing their guitar? An old drunk walking down the street with his can - wishing people 'Merry Christmas' all the way? Overhearing the Irish accents of the people I passed? The pint of Guinness sitting in my stomach? Or, most likely, the combination of all of this and the realization that I have little time left in such a wonderful part of this world.

Don't get me wrong, I'm unbelievably excited for what the next week, month, and year of my life will bring. I'm excited for the unknown. I still don't know where I'll be staying in Norway or Edinburgh - yet alone my nine days in Spain. Mom, don't worry, I'll figure something out!

I'll end (as I often do) with a description of the title of this post. I've been trying to figure out some way to shed light on one of my favorite Irish phrases. I've picked up on many of the common ones - brilliant, grand, (occasionally) thanks a million (thanks a mil if you're rushed), and the more common cheers. But, one I've been unable to add to my everyday conversation is the phrase 'your man' or 'your one.'

They're both really wonderful. Every time I hear an Irish person use the phrase I smile. Really, I do. My Irish friend Danny uses it often - and I love it. Or, for example, I'll be working at Nimmo's and opening a bottle of wine for table 10 and I'll hear a woman on table 12 telling a story - I won't have any idea what the story is about, but then I'll hear, "... and then your man ..."

So, I'm sure you're dying to understand how it is used. Basically, 'your man' or 'your one' functions as a pronoun. Instead of, he-she, you use your man (or your one if it is a woman).

eg.

I was at work today and there was this lady on table 13 who complained about everything - in the end, what she had to complain about really boiled down to nothing at all. She just wasn't happy. And, she wasn't fun to deal with. So, when my coworker Courtney came upstairs, I said to her, "Your one down one table 13 is loads of fun (me being sarcastic). She's a real headache."

When I use it, it sounds scripted, fake, and pushed - and for this reason, I rarely use it. But, when a proper Irish lad or lassie uses it, it truly is ... brilliant.

new travel plans

Next up, Spain.

Brian booked tickets to Spain. We're leaving the UK on the 9th and will be flying into Barcelona. We'll be traveling throughout Spain until the 18th. I'm not sure what we will do, but I reckon we'll make our way south and west to see our friend Cat in Seville. Warm weather and the sun will be a nice change from the cold, dark, days we'll have spent in Ireland, Norway, and the UK.

As of now, we're looking for potential couches to surf in Edinburgh and Norway.

so, i'm going to norway.

I just finished booking my ticket out of Ireland.

Brian and I will leave Dublin on the 26th of December at 12:35 and arrive in Oslo, Norway, at 3:45. We'll be somewhere in Norway for the night of the 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, and we'll leave Oslo for Glasgow on the afternoon of the 30th. We'll most likely head from there to Edinburgh for New Years.

How did I pick Norway? Fair question. It was the cheapest way to get out of Ireland and then into the UK. Skyscanner.com is a brilliant website (thanks Emma!) that has some very user-friendly search features. Our total airfare cost less than €60 each.

What will we do in Norway? Yet another fair question that I don't know the answer to. The days will be short - tonight, the sun set in Oslo at 3:13 (and, Oslo is in the southern part of the country!). We'll do some research and figure out a tentative itinerary. Hopefully, couchsurfing.com will provide us with some cheap (read, free) accommodation.

Yet another leg in my journey that I'm unbelievably excited for.

Thanks again to all of you that continue to follow me on my journey through this blog. I know you're out there - some 1,900 plus people have dropped by my blog. It's this fact that in part keeps me writing. This, and I'll love to look back and follow my own travels months from now. Remember the comment feature that blogger.com provides. Your comments can allow my blog to be a venue for mutual conversation. Check out this post - comments - for any questions you have on how to post comments.

thanks again, and all the best,

mdk

plans (or lack thereof)

Hi all. I had a day off from work today. It was grand - first time in nine days I haven't worked at the cafe, nimmos, or ard bia's restaurant. I remember not too long ago, I blogged how I was spending my days floating from coffee shop, to pub, to coffee shop. Killing time. Taking in Galway. This most definitely wasn't the case last week. I worked 51 hours.

It's alright though. I need to save money. More importantly, I really do enjoy my job. The cafe was something to get used to. The busiest time of the night at Nimmo's comes around nine or half nine. This is when our 12 tables turn over. We have to kindly encourage people to leave, reset tables, and tend to the vultures who came to their 9:30 booking but have to wait for ten or fifteen minutes to be seated. At the cafe, we have 17 tables which are constantly turning over - for six hours.

But, I do love the fast paced environment. I love the interaction with our customers. I've always said I enjoyed my job at Telefund because I loved working and knowing I was making a difference. At Nimmo's, I enjoy the fact that I can help to ensure someone has the best possible experience on their night out.

Eating out (at night) in Ireland has a different feel than at home. Often times, I feel when people go out to eat in the states, they hope to get in to a restaurant, sit down, be served quickly, eat, and leave. In Ireland, going out to eat is an all night experience. Nearly everyone orders starters, mains, desserts, and then coffees. The coffees, mind you, must be served AFTER the desserts - it has taken me a while to get this down. I'd want my god damn coffee before my dessert came. Not in Ireland. Also, you wait to clear plates from the table until EVERYONE is finished eating. This, also, has been difficult for me to get used to. I'm of the mindset that when I'm finished eating, I don't want to look at my dirty plate any longer. Again, not in Ireland.

I'm lucky enough to work in three, brilliant restaurants - each with a unique feel of their own. The ambiance at Nimmo's is my favorite, by far. I don't think I could describe either Nimmo's or Ard Bia better than these two reviews ...

"Ard Bia at Nimmo’s enjoys one of Galway’s most romantic locations with lovely views of the river, hard by the Spanish Arch, a Galway landmark. The seasonally-changing Irish/Moroccan/North African eclectic menu blows you away with dishes like the Gubeen antipasto dish. Decor has strong elements of chic modern styling made fabulous with original artworks and vibrant colours. Ard Bia’s commitment to live and modern art makes it a happening place, though if you just want to come for the great food and service and see why the group won Restaurant of the Year from Food & Wine Magazine, no one will mind."

"Ard Bia works in a different way to conventional restaurants, which means they eschew the bull and get down to business and back to basics.

The Ard Bia way of working is to make everything as simple and direct as possible. The dishes are simply listed – Irish stew with potatoes and root vegetables; organic salmon, new potatoes, butternut, grenobloise sauce. Warm goat’s cheese and walnut salad. Brilliant.

The wine list is stunningly direct – Gulfi’s 2004 Carjcanti, for instance, is ‘Made with 100% of the rare Carricante grapes, this wine shows white flowers, pineapple and minerals on the nose, and a crisp firm acidity’. Brilliant.

Why can’t everyone do things this way? The funny thing is, of course, that Ard Bia is actually a complicated mix of restaurant, café, art gallery and wine business, and it all happens in a minuscule space. Quite how Aoibheann McNamara manages it, we don’t know, but we suspect there is some small stroke of genius operating here.

What does it all add up to? The perfect restaurant for Galway, we reckon, because it’s a restaurant just like the city – left-field, obvious yet strange, arty yet straight.

Great food, great wines, great space, all done in the most instinctive, imaginative and refreshingly different way."

So, 51 hours was a lot to work last week, but I enjoyed it. Dad always says, "If you enjoy your job, you'll never work a day in your life."

The second review referenced Aoibheann (pronounced Evann - Irish, go figure), the owner of Ard Bia, Nimmo's, and Ard Bia's art gallery. She really is quite the character. I won't opine too much, though she calls everyone 'Darling." I remember the day she asked me where I was living.

"Darling, have you found a place to live?" she asked.

"Yeah, I have. It's actually a funny story. I'm living over on Dock Road in a massage parlor. The massage parlor is open from 11 - 6 so we kind of have to stay hidden. Not ideal, but it's cheap and kind of a funny story," I told her.

"Oh darling, that is terrible," Aoibheann said.

"No, really, it's okay. Kind of funny, I think," I assured her.

"Oh, no really darling, that is just awful. I'm so sorry."

It was all I could do not to laugh.

I'm sitting in a pub right now, and I've been trying to book a flight out of Ireland. I had a couple options lined up, but decided to hold off on booking them until Brian ensures his parents won't be in Ireland at the end of the month. As for now, it's looking like we'll be in Sweeden, Belgium, Italy, or Germany for a couple days before the new year. The flight prices change constantly, so who knows. Tomorrow, it could be someplace completely different.

I'm comfortable with my half-drank pint of Guinness and not ready to walk home from the pub. It's raining, cold, and windy.

Alas, it's winter in Ireland. What should I expect?

pictures and update

Hi all. I've posted some pictures below. I somehow previously left you a link to a Photobucket album with the same pictures, but the ones below have some included descriptions.

This is the outside of the flat I live in - you can see The Massage Center sign. The setup isn't ideal, but it's a place to put my head each night. Most importantly, it's an unbelievably cheap place to put my head each night! Our address is 17 Dock Road - we're right on the Galway docks.

This is looking back over the harbor to my flat. The harbor is typically filled with large ships that have docked in Galway for the night. I've yet to see one actually enter the harbor - I'm not sure how they come in, as the entrance is extremely small. A twenty-two point turn is my only guess.

the front entrance to nimmo's

nimmo's

Again, Nimmo's. It sits directly on the River Corrib. To the left of Nimmo's is the Spanish Arch - built in 1584. The Arch actually has no association with the Spanish. It was originally part of the walls which protected the quays of Galway.

The Galway Cathedral.

This picture belongs on an Ireland postcard.

This picture was taken on my walk to Salthill last week. Amazing, I know.

I really don't have much else to update you on. I worked all week. I've now started doing days at Ard Bia's Cafe which results in a hectic schedule. Example: Yesterday, I worked 9 - 6 at the cafe and then 7 - 1 at Nimmos. The hours are good. I need to save the Eurs before I convert them all to Pounds - a conversion that will be about as bad as my conversion from USD to Eurs. But, once I start earning Pounds Sterling, I'll be set for the rest of my traveling.

Oh, and Mom, Happy Birthday! I miss you and send all my love from Ireland. xo

cheers all,

mk

walk to galway bay

I spent yesterday dropping in and out of coffee shops and pubs - relaxing, drinking coffee, writing emails, reading, and basically enjoying a day of accomplishing nothing. Starting next week, I'll also be working days at Ard Bia's Cafe. Until then, I don't work most evenings until six or seven. So, my days are spent in coffee shops around Galway. Working in the service industry undoubtedly results in you having a strange schedule.

Speaking of work, I remembered a story I wanted to share with you all. I worked last Saturday day at Nimmos for a party we were having upstairs - a group of 35 celebrating a 25th wedding anniversary. I work with a lady who speaks nearly perfect English, she just has a heavy French accent. Right as the group was sitting down, Geraldine told me she wanted me to describe the menu to the group because of her accent.

What?!

While I have no problem speaking in front of groups, this fact changes when I'm describing a menu that I'm still learning - babaganoush, grilled halloumi, confit fennel, etc. Lets just say these weren't common things I discussed in my work at Telefund for four years.

"Geraldine," I said, "I really think it'd be better for you to describe everything - even with your accent - I'm still learning the menu!"

Nope. It went okay, but I wasn't exactly excited. Funny enough, when I finished, a man in the party said, "In English now, please."

I decided yesterday evening I was going to go for a walk around Galway and take pictures of the city. I ended up walking to the bay. I decided to take a quick video ...

As I was putting my camera away, I was thinking it was strangely clear - though not warm - for a Galway winter day. As if on cue, it then began to rain for my twenty minute walk back to town. Why wouldn't it? I'm in Ireland.

cheers

"this is cool, guys"

I went for a run today. It had been some time since I last made it out. I was excited to have some sort of schedule upon my arrival to Galway. This schedule was thrown out of whack when I caught the Galway bug that seems to have inflicted nearly everyone I know in some way or another. Whenever I find myself on a run in Galway, I always seem to wish I had my camera.

The views from the shores of Galway bay are spectacular. There are scattered beaches along the sidewalk I run on. People are out with their kids in prams, or running, or walking their dogs. Small boats dot the bay. An occasional ship of some sort can be seen in the distance. The hills of County Clare are visible across the bay. Tonight, the sun was setting over the horizon. A truly beautiful site.

These runs also always provide me with the time to think. To reflect.

I'm amazed that it was nearly two and a half months ago that Brian and I first arrived in Galway. We were so new to Ireland - we'd been here less than a week. Who would have known the adventures we'd experience in the next 60 days? The ups and the downs of working for face2face. Getting lost on the sides of mountains. Hitching throughout the entire country. Brian leaving to work in the middle of nowhere on a salmon farm. Finding the most spectacular way to take in the Cliffs of Moher. Stumbling (not literally) into classic, little pubs, in small Irish villages. Meeting countless amazing people. And, drinking many a pint of Guinness (so maybe this was predictable).

A part of me is ready to get out of Ireland. Ready to be on the road again. Ready to not have connections to any town. Ready for the unknown.

The other part of me loves Ireland and isn't ready to leave. The part of me that is speechless at the views from Galway. The part of me that will miss the pedestrianized streets of Galway with their countless street performers. The part of me that loves the pub I'm sitting in with its views of the Galway docks. The part of me that will miss meeting truly unbelievable Irish people. Yet, to continue to do this, it's time I leave Galway. Lyndon and I were sitting in the reception area of The Massage Center (our living room / my bedroom) this afternoon, and he pointed out that he didn't think he had talked to one Irish person all day. Clearly, there are plenty of Irish people in Galway - but, as working travelers, we seem to associate with working travelers.

Regardless of whether or not I'm ready to leave Galway, I'm at the point where Brian and I need to figure out what the end of December is going to look like for us. We have to enter the UK by the 1st of January to activate our Blue Cards. We want to try and spend a couple days with our friend Cat in Spain at the end of the month too. Also, we hope to get to Edinburgh, Scotland, for the new year. I think the plan will be to somehow get from Ireland to Spain and then somehow get from Spain to Edinburgh. Activate our work permits, and bring in 2008 in an Edinburgh pub.

And then, who knows?

Brian was in town yesterday and today. He has since gone back to the Delphi, but I should let you all know he is extremely happy with his new job. It's perfect for him. He farms salmon. What does this include? I'm not entirely sure, though he could talk to you for hours about it. Lots of netting, lots of speeding up the process of natural selection (i.e. killing the non-native species of salmon that won't last through the winter), and the occasional digging out of a stream so the salmon can swim up it. Just up his alley, but definitely not up mine. The area around the Delphi estate is apparently unbelievably scenic and beautiful. If he sends me pictures, I'll post them for you all to see.

Last night, Brian and I were having a pint in a pub just up the road from my flat with our friend Emma from Australia. A cozy little pub with low ceilings, a fireplace, and a view of the docks. A wonderful place. We were talking and enjoying our pints of Guinness when the conversation somewhat subsided.

Emma then broke the silence and said, "This is cool, guys. What we're doing."

I asked, "What, enjoying our pints?"

"No. Living in Ireland. Traveling. Seeing the world."

How cool it is.

the massage center

I've moved out of the hostel. I'm now living in a massage parlor. What? Yes. I'm living with two friends from face2face and three girls from Canada in a massage parlor. They signed a lease on a flat and were supposed to move in last week. The tenants who ran the massage parlor were supposed to move out at the same time. Unfortunately, their new place isn't quite ready. So, until the middle of December, our flat serves as a massage parlor from 11 - 6.

Quite the story. It gets better. My bed is the couch in the living room. Said living room is actually the reception area of the massage center. I was on the couch sleeping yesterday when I heard the door open. A man walked into the living room (reception area) and asked, "Are you guys open?" The answer was, "No, it's Sunday." The door downstairs was somehow left open.

So, yeah. It's not ideal. But it's cheap and if nothing else makes for one hell of a story.

Oh, and the answer is, "I'm not yet sure." I've yet to find out whether or not we get discounted massages. I'm fairly certain this would be your next question.

ireland with the parents: pints, b&bs, and more pints

At long last, I have posted pictures from the week I spent traveling with my parents. We had a fantastic time. The craic was grand. I was thrilled to find my parents loved the country as much as I do.

Ireland is an addictive place. It's a beautiful country filled with brilliant and kind-hearted people. As someone my mother met said, "If the Irish were any more laid back, they'd be horizontal."

I must give most of the credit for the below pictures to my mother. She acted as our photographer for most of the week. This is evident as most of the pictures include my dad and I. She took heaps of pictures and below I've posted my favorites from the week. There are plenty, so feel free to look at some, read my comments, and stop back later to view the rest.

This is me leaving the DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) station in Howth. I met my parents early Saturday morning. Notice my enormous backpack. As the days pass, I'm not loosing luggage, but gaining more. Namely, a tent and a daypack (thanks Bec!).


The harbor in Howth. Howth (pronounced Howt) is essentially a suburb northeast of Dubin.


Our first pints of Guinness. Plenty more were to be had over the next week. By one or two each day, we were ready for our 'Guinness Stop' at whatever local pub we came across. Drinking, a way of life in Ireland. It's okay though, because Guiness is good for you. Seriously. The only morning we struggled with a hangover was the morning after the only night we drank anything but Guinness. The last night my parents were in the country, we had a bottle of red wine with dinner. Next morning? Headaches. One point Guinness.


Our first scenic stop. Glendalough (The Glen of Two Lakes) in the Wicklow Mountains of County Wicklow.


Dad and I at the Blarney Castle in County Cork.


Blarney Castle. Notice Dad's eyes are closed. You will find this to be a common theme in his pictures...


Dad, kissing the Blarney Stone. "There is a stone there, That whoever kisses, oh he never misses, to grow eloquent."








Dad and I at Charles Fort outside of Kinsale. An impressive site, this star shaped fort was built in the 17th century.


One of our many Guinness stops.














Mom and I outside of a bar / bed & breakfast we stayed at one night.


Oh, it looks like we should go ... These sign posts are a common site in Ireland. In more rural areas, you often can't even rely on the directions they provide. Be it wind or teenagers, the signs often point in the wrong direction.








beautiful


Sheep (in case you didn't know). Plenty of sheep in Ireland. The vast majority of them have colors dyed into their wool. Why? We're not entirely sure. In Cong, we met a young man at a pub who was a farmer. My mother asked him why some of the sheep have purple or other colors dyed into their wool. "No ma'am, we don't have no purple sheep in Ireland." He wasn't the smartest lad in the pub, to say the least.


A spacious, country road. Plenty of room to meet oncoming traffic.


View from the Ring of Kerry.


Ring of Kerry.


Behind us, you see the remains of some old fortification. A castle? A monastic site? I don't remember. The amount history in Ireland is fascinating. Everywhere you look, there are remains of an ancient building of some sort.





In the distance you can see the Skellig Islands.


closed eyes.


Skellig Michael. We took an hour long boat ride to the Skelligs with the hope of spending the afternoon there. Unfortunately, the seas had other plans. It was too rough to land.


By the time we got back, my jeans were soaked (and remained this way for the next five days).


pints


Looking quite American in my plaid, colorful, shorts and chacos.


A castle outside of Doolin. We took a shortcut on the way from the Rink of Kerry to Doolin. Mom was convinced we were lost. Fair assumption, as we were traveling down roads through cattle fields that were getting smaller, and smaller. But, she was wrong.





Enjoying a pint in Doolin.





A great trad session. We had brilliant luck with finding some wonderful traditional Irish music. It's hit or miss, but the best sessions are impromptu, with locals showing up throughout the night.


The beginning of our hike from Doolin to the Cliffs of Moher. We left on a cold, wet morning. Not twenty minutes into our hike, Dad stepped into a cow pie and Mom a boggy puddle. We took an indirect route to the Cliffs - along the way, we dodged many cow pies, attempted to avoid the bogs, and ducked under electric fences. Only with me in Ireland.











Midway through the hike. A lunch break of sandwiches, crisps, and red wine.

















Dad peering over the edge of a six hundred foot cliff. What?!

















A small fishing village. Roundstone. This picture was taken mid-morning. Probably around 10. Low tide. Notice the red boat.


The same boat at around 5pm. High tide. According the fishermen we talked with, at this time of year, there is a sixteen foot vertical change in the tides. Fascinating.


Said fisherman, weighing the day's catch of shrimp.


Pints in Roundstone.





View from 'Sky Road' in the Connemara. The night before we headed north to the Connemara, we met an old, drunk, lobster fisherman in a pub in Spiddel. We asked him about the Sky Road. "Oh, it's a beautiful sight to see. Yes, the Sky Road, it brings tears to my eyes just to tink about it.'








On the way to the Aran Islands. We spent the day on Innishmore, the largest of the three islands off the coast of Galway (8miles x 3miles). The island is inhabited by few and provides the ideal setting to spend the day biking along its beaches, walking along its cliffs, and taking in its peaceful beauty. Unless, of course it blows and rains all day long ...


... which it did.











Innishmore is covered with miles and miles of stone fences.


On our bikes, more stone fences behind us.


There isn't anything too special about this picture, other than the story that lies behind it. For as beautiful as the island was, we picked a horrible day to bike around it. It was cold. It was rainy. It was windy. By the end of the day, Dad was a bit frustrated. In addition to the weather, we did a fare amount of biking - it really did seem like we biked slightly uphill the entire day. I didn't mind, but it may have been a little too much exercise for dad considering we were on holiday. So, you can see Dad's a bit perturbed in this picture. To be fair, I was somewhat stressed as I had to make a decision on working for face2face or not. But, then dad had the audacity to say, "You seem a bit surly." Dad, you were the surly one! Anyway, this was moments after.





Empty kegs strewn about the pub


The view behind our b&b in Cong.











The grounds of the Ashfurd Castle outside of Cong. This 13th Century castle was once owned by the Guinness family and now serves as a luxury hotel.





We didn't have a chance to go inside, but you can see the place is class.







The last day my parents were in Ireland, we hiked Crough Patrick (seen in the background). Located just outside of Westport in County Mayo, this 2,510 foot mountain is climbed by some 20,000+ religious pilgrims each year (many barefoot). Saint Patrick is said to have fasted at the summit for forty days and forty nights.





Matthew and Mark at the summit (not pictured here, Luke and John)

I hope you enjoyed the pictures. Mom and Dad, thank you again for a wonderful week.