a year abroad

a year abroad has moved

2009-12-13T02:34:00.002Z

I've moved to New Zealand, and 'a year abroad' has moved to www.backpackingmatt.com

Check it out.

a year abroad ... ends

2008-12-05T10:43:00.008Z

My 'year' abroad will come to an end on the 16th of this month, some fifteen months after originally leaving home. Tomorrow, I'll be flying from Istanbul to Edinburgh to spend one week with Nicole. On the 16th, I'll be flying home with a short layover in Dublin. It only seems fitting that my time spent abroad will end in the city where this trip of a lifetime once began.

To say I have mixed emotions over my decision to move home is, by all means, an understatement. I'm excited at what will come, yet nervous at the unknown and the many decisions to be made, and depressed that this period in my life is coming to a close. While I'm not looking forward to the end of my travels, I am at the same time trying to be realistic about the situation. Financially, I don't have a choice; considering this, there is no need to stress over the uncontrollable.

I have developed a love of traveling, of meeting new people, of experiencing new cultures, and more than anything, a love of living my day to day life outside of my comfort zone. I'm convinced this won't be the last time I find myself traveling the world. There is still so much to see in this world, and the thought of never traveling again is frightening. I'm excited at the thought of once again leaving home - again feeling the rush, the excitement, and the nerves of what comes when leaving everything that has become comfortable to you.

This time I've spent abroad has been an experience I'll remember for the rest of my life. It has been invaluable, but it certainly hasn't been easy. For 15 months I've been separated from family, from familiarity, and from old friendships. This being said, I've met so many people along the way who have undoubtedly helped to shape the person I've become. It has been an opportunity for me to learn more about who I am, what I want to be, and hopefully enabled me to understand the world around me just a little bit better.

Thanks to you all for following me on this journey. You are the ones that drove me to sit down, to reflect, and to document my travels. All the best, cheers,

mk

A turkish shave ...

2008-11-30T11:25:00.006Z

When Brian, Peter, and I were in Izmir a couple weeks ago, we decided one evening to get our beards trimmed and our hair cut at a Turkish barber. We had read many good things in our guidebook about the experience - for little more than 10YTL (aprox $7), you can spend an hour or so getting a full barber experience.

I imagine the whole experience would have been more enjoyable if I spoke fluent Turkish. I envision the experience being a very social event. And, I imagine if I was Turkish, mine would have ended differently than it did.

After walking into the barber shop, I asked the young barber how much for a beard shave and a hair cut - he pointed at my beard and said 5YTL and then my hair and said 5YTL. Ten Turkish Lira - perfect. Lonely Planet was accurate.

He sat me down and got to work. After trimming my long beard of nearly two months with his clippers, he got out some warm shaving cream and a soft brush. He painted my face with this warm cream and then began to shave my face with a proper, open blade. Five minutes later, I was left with a bald face - a strange feeling as I hadn't been been baby bald in probably close to eight months.

When he finished shaving my beard, he wiped the remaining cream off with a warm towel. He then got to work on my hair - perhaps luckily, he didn't take much off. After seeing Brian's haircut, I'm not sure I'd trust his work on my hair as much I would my face. When the trimming was done, he laid the chair back and washed and massaged my hair. After toweling my hair dry, he pointed at my hair and face and said, "Problem." He then picked up a bowl filled with some sort of cream, pointed, and said "No Problem." Next thing I knew, he was painting this cool cream all over my hair, face, and neck. Within minutes, it was beginning to solidify. I must say, the mask was quite soothing.

When the barber had decided the mask was sufficiently hard enough, he began to peel it away using a warm, sticky, wax-like substance. After one more hair and face wash in the sink and some Turkish hairstyling, my barber experience was nearly finished.

When the haircuts were finished, we sat around, drank tea, and tried to communicate with each other - not easy considering the language barrier. When we were ready to go, I asked him how much it would be for the three haircuts. After the 10YTL quote for me, I anticipated it being 30YTL for the three of us. How wrong I was. Mr. Turkish Barber said for the three of us, he wanted 150YTL. He was trying to say that the masks he painted on our faces were extra - not true, according to our book. After much arguing, we were able to get out for 15YTL each - still more than we deserved to pay, but significantly better than the 150YTL he wanted to get.

A frustrating way for a really good experience to end. Live and learn, I suppose.

paris. pictures.

2008-11-21T18:29:00.001Z

Below you'll find pictures from my whirlwind tour of Paris ... I enjoyed Paris, but I don't think I'll rush back to the city. If you need a refresher on my time there, here is a link to my quick post about Paris.

arriving at the station.

unique building we came across while looking for a place to stay.

the place we found. cheap, but a wee bit dodgy. any time you're quoted a certain price for a room, and an additional charge for the use of a shower, you know something isn't right. Moreover, the 'hotel' didn't have a toilet - anywhere. only the pictured bidet.

the saint michel fountain. the meeting place for parisians.

an English language bookstore in paris. traveling writers can stay upstairs in exchange for a couple of hours work each day. once a popular meeting place for hemingway.

notre dame de paris

my foot. directly in the center of the world ... or france. france's 'kilometer zero,' where the distances to all cities in france are measured from. old napoleon insisted it wasn't the center of paris but the center of the world.

brian and i. look at his designer shades - he's so european.

a picture of some windows at the louvre. a massive museum that dwarfs any i've seen. if you look closely at one of the panes on the left side window, you'll notice a small, orange dot. these dots mark the rooms where the museum's most prized works are housed. this way, in the unlikely and catastrophic event of a fire, the authorities know what rooms to tackle first. interesting piece of trivia gained from the walking tour.

some minimalistic work photographed through different colored window panes.

me, trying the typical 'pinching the eiffel tower' shot. photographer error.

better.

the eiffel tower, illuminated in blue. according to a man who spoke little english, it was lit up this way in anticipation for the us presidential elections. but, i've since heard, it had something to do with an EU event going on in town. either way, the eiffel tower, illuminated in blue.

pictured: the mona lisa. not pictured: the hundreds of tourists swarming the room trying to get pictures.

boarding the night train to munich (pictures coming soon).

One Cup of Tea ... 40 Years of Friendship

2008-11-21T10:46:00.006Z

Hello from Istanbul. I arrived last night - I'm not sure why I've yet to let you know my plans, but I'll be meeting my girlfriend Nicole for four nights here in Istanbul. She arrives tonight. Excited doesn't begin to explain my feelings on again seeing her - it has been almost five weeks since we said goodbye in Edinburgh. Being separated has been difficult, but we both realize that considering our situations, separation is inevitable right now. We travel well together, so our time in Istanbul should be wonderful. At the end of June, we spent four nights in Prague - a stunning city.

Historic Charlies Bridge in the background

Pilsner Urquell

Our last night in Prague. Dinner at one of the city's best known restaurants - an epic location with views over Charles Bridge. Not at all within our budget, but well worth it.

I arrived in Turkey on Monday afternoon. A quick ferry ride from Chios brought Peter, Brian, and I to Cesme where we caught a bus to Izmir - Turkey's third largest city. From Izmir, we took a train to Selcuk and spent two nights in this smaller, more traditional Turkish town. Selcuk is located only minutes away from the ancient city of Ephesus - an area which has been inhabited since 6000 BC. Ephesus is famed for the Temple of Artemis and the Ephesus Theater which could hold 24,000 people.

I spent yesterday traveling from Izmir to Istanbul - not an easy journey. From Izmir, I took a bus, a train, and finally a ferry to finally arrive in Istanbul some eight hours later.

My experience thus far in Turkey has been indescribably amazing. The history and beauty of the country aside, Turkey is full of brilliant people. I have read so much about the kindness of the Turkish people. It has been amazing to experience the kind, hospitable, and outgoing culture first hand. Unlike Western European countries who have grown tired and sometimes bitter of the tourists which flock to their cities, Turkey embraces the tourist. Everywhere I've traveled, I've encountered a society which embraces tourists and goes out of their way to ensure you (as a traveler) have the best possible experience in their country.

Since arriving in Turkey four days ago, I've drank more tea and played more backgammon than I ever imagined was possible. Turkey is famous the world around for its coffee - brewed in its own, unique way. Turkish coffee is brewed in a special pot called a cezve; the pot is heated three times and each time taken away from the heat when the foam reaches the neck of the cezve. Prepared with sugar, Turkish coffee is thick and strong. To be honest, it's not really to my liking. I've grown far more fond of the Apple Tea which most Turkish folk drink. Brian, Peter, and I have spent a good deal of time in the traditional, Turkish Kahveane - an area where men congregate to drink tea, play the national game of tavla (backgamon), and socialize.

brian and I playing a game of tavla and drinking tea

Each time we walk into one of these Kahveanes, we are obviously immediately recognized as tourists. The men in the Kahveanes will always come to us, welcome us to Turkey, and do their best to speak with us - regardless of how good or bad their English is.

This isn't unique to the Kahveanes. Wherever I've been, I've been almost overwhelmed with the number of Turkish people who go out of their way to speak with me. Even if their English is limited to, "Where are you from?" they do everything they can to make you feel welcome in their country. As you can imagine, it's very refreshing.

Two nights ago, Brian, Peter, and I were wandering the streets of Selcuk awaiting a pick up from our hostel. As we were walking, I was fiddling with my Turkish beads I had picked up at the bazaar in Izmir. This man came up to me and let me know I was doing it all wrong ... he took them from me, and began to spin them as the Turkish do. As he was doing this, the string on which the beads were attached broke. You could instantly see the embarrassment in his eyes. He insisted on taking me to his shop and fixing the beads for me.

The three of us followed him to his nearby shop. As he was working on my beads, he offered the three of us tea. Wrongly, we first tried to object to his offer. The Turkish often are offended by the refusal of gifts or refreshments. After he continued to insist on the tea, we all accepted his offer. As we were talking, one of his mates came in and started talking with us as well. After the beads were fixed, we were invited to Ali's Turkish carpet shop where we spent the next couple hours talking, playing tavla, learning about Turkish carpets, and drinking tea. "You should never deny the offer for a cup of tea," he told us. "In Turkey, we say that one cup of tea will lead to 40 years of friendship."

amsterdam. pictures.

2008-11-18T09:45:00.013Z

Perhaps a little bit late, but below you'll find pictures from my three days spent in Amsterdam. The city was filled with canals and is dubbed the, 'Venice of the North.' After traveling the continent for a month, I'd quite easily say that Amsterdam is one of the most beautiful cities I've seen.

You might notice from this photo that the buildings are leaning in towards the street a wee bit. Many of Amsterdam's flats were extremely skinny when viewed from the street - owners were taxed based on how wide their property was. With skinny buildings, sometimes not much wider than a door, you can imagine it is difficult to move furniture and the like into the flats. Sofas and other large household goods are hoisted up from the street. Considering the buildings lean in, there is more space when hoisting up goods. Not sure this makes sense, if only I could draw you a picture. Below, the red fronted flat is the skinniest property in Amsterdam.

street side public urinals.

Amsterdam is touted as being one of the most bicycle friendly cities in the world. There are bicycles lanes and racks everywhere you go. In fact, Amsterdam has its own 'bicycle parking garage' to help accommodate the 456,000 bicycles in the city.

Brian at Febo. Febo is Amsterdam's take on fast food. You walk into one of the many Febos in the city, enter one Euro into the machine, and walk out with a number of quick (albeit unhealthy) food options. Delicious.

For reasons you probably understand, the ladies working the Red Light District weren't to fond on tourists taking pictures of them. On the left side of this picture, you can see one of the streets where the Red Light District begins. The whole concept can only be described as bizarre. You've got to see it to believe it.

chios

2008-11-17T20:25:00.003Z

17/11/2008 – 8:51 am

Brian, Peter, and I are on a ferry, en route to Cesme, Turkey. Peter is an American traveler I met while on the train from Patras to Athens. A recent graduate from Washington state, Peter decided to travel for six months before facing reality – not a bad idea. Brian ended up meeting up with us on Chios, where I’ve spent the last three nights.

Chios was described to me as an island that the odd unsuspecting tourist finds, falls in love with, and never leaves; after spending three nights there, I can see clearly how this is the case.

The fifth largest Greek island, Chios lies 8 kilometers off the coast of Turkey. With a population of just under 50,000 people, Chios is largely overlooked by package tourist companies – this time of year, the three of us were happy to find the island essentially to ourselves and the Greek islanders which call Chios their home. A dry, arid, and mountainous island, Chios is best known for the production of mastic. A dried, resin-like sap which comes from Mestic Trees – indigenous to the south of Chios. Villages on the south of the island form a co-operative and produce and distribute the product in a number of different forms – from gum, to cosmetic products, to foods. The three of us hired a car and spent one day exploring the island. It was fascinating to explore the Mastic villages – many of these medieval, enclosed towns of less than 1000 people.

As we wandered the streets of these villages, we saw a number of old women sitting outside of their homes, harvesting the raw mastic.

The highlight of my time in Chios oddly took place the morning I arrived from Athens. Peter and I arrived on the ferry at the ungodly hour of 4am. With no plans of where we were staying, we ended up killing time by drinking Greek coffees in the local bus station. As we were waiting for the town of Chios to wake up, I watched a beautiful sunrise over Turkey. I’ll see if I can’t continue this post later on today.

For now, Turkey and Turkish customs await.

Obama Supporter

2008-11-13T11:43:00.004Z

It has been great to be in Europe in the week following the US elections. There is no question that Senator Obama was supported by the Europeans. The election was monumental, as I'm sure nobody would deny - Democrat, Republican, Green, or Independent. It is, in my mind, a very big step in the right direction for the US. Unfortunately for the Illinois Senator, he is stepping into The White House to find a troubled economy at home, two dead end wars in the Middle East, a struggling healthcare system, and the list could go on.

Additionally, he will become the US President at a time when the US has lost the respect of the world. In Bari, I was speaking with a Dutch backpacker about the election. He - just as literally everyone I've spoken with - was excited Obama won the election. "It is exciting," I told him, "because now we can begin to regain our reputation in the world." His response, I felt, was quite blunt and oh so true. "Yes," he said, "but it is a lot easier to loose your reputation than it is to regain it."

I'm afraid he is right; at least Obama is a step in the right direction.

I was walking around the Plaka neighborhood here in Athens yesterday and came across an old lady sitting outside of her shop. The owners of the many stores in this neighborhood bring chairs outside their shops, sit in the sun, drink iced coffees, and smoke cigarettes. I noticed something peculiar about this specific shopkeeper ...

I'm going to Turkey.

2008-11-13T10:34:00.004Z

As I sit down to write this post, I'm seated outside of an Athens cafe, soaking up the sun, drinking an iced coffee, and looking at the imposing Acropolis.

Just minutes ago, I booked my ferry tickets to Turkey - I'm unbelievably excited. When I left Edinburgh just under four weeks ago, my plan was to make it to Turkey. I'm now only days away from meeting this goal. I'll leave Athens tonight on a ferry heading to the Greek island of Chios - located only 10 or 15 miles away from the Turkish coast. I'll spend a couple days on Chios before taking the quick, one hour journey to the port south of Izmir, Turkey.

I didn't arrive in Athens expecting to be impressed with the city. I had heard, for the most part, negative things about Greece's capital city - crowded, filled with traffic, and full of garbage. Athens is a massive, sprawling city of nearly four million people. This being said, as a traveler, it is very manageable with all of the main sights located in a central area. From my experience, it is also very safe and no more polluted than any other city of its size.

One thing Athens isn't short of is stray dogs; they are everywhere. After my first night roaming the city, I determined that most of the dogs are harmless - some will bark and growl, but with a calming hello, they'll quickly be your best friend and follow you as you wander about their city. Living their lives on the streets of Athens, you'd probably guess they're not the cleanest animals - and you'd be right. This being said, I've learned that they are not really homeless - rather, they're the proud pets of all Athenians. Nearly all of the dogs have tags which register them to a specific 'owner' who looks after them ensuring they are fed and watered. Additionally, volunteer vets in the city ensure the dogs are vaccinated and healthy.

I went on a quick walking tour with my hostel yesterday which touched on all the key sites in Athens. While not the most informative tour, I always appreciate the chance to hear about a city from a local. Case and point, learning about the 'stray' dogs of the city. The history of Athens is mind blowing. It is shocking to see temples, buildings, and ruins dating from the First Century BC. A person almost feels speechless walking amongst such history and beauty.

Since arriving in Athens, I haven't eaten much besides Gyros - a Greek food consisting of roasted meat from a vertical spit (pork, beef, or chicken), onions, tomatoes, and tzatziki served in an oiled an fried pita. They're delicious - and, more importantly, they're cheap. I spent a good hour last night sitting outside of a great Gyro take-away/sitdown restaurant just taking the whole scene in. While clearly attracting a fair number of tourists, it was also apparent that Athenians eat gyros on the run. It was shocking to watch the lads behind the counter serving up the Greek specialty - anytime there weren't customers, they'd quick light up a cigarette. They wouldn't quite leave the kitchen to smoke it, but they'd at least try to lean over the counter away from the food. Health and Safety?! All the while, the old man who most likely owned the joint, sat at a cash register, smoking, waiting for customers, and watching his money roll in.

Earlier on in the evening, I was wandering the city and came to a small, rocky, hill which had stunning views of the city, its surrounding hills, and the illuminated Acropolis. It was a great place to relax, ponder, and take in the breathtaking city that is Athens. I was thinking about where I am now, where I've been, but more importantly where I'll be one or two months time. I don't know. Without a source of income, I'm afraid my days of traveling will all to abruptly come to an end. In a perfect world, I'll find some sort of short term employment in Turkey - a hostel, a bar, a restaurant, who knows. I was thinking last night that I left home after graduation because the thought of immediately settling down to a career oriented job, working 40+ hours a week and 50 weeks a year was frightening. In traveling and seeing Europe, I had hoped to ready myself for the settling down. Last night, however, I realized that I'm more terrified now of that thought than I was a year and a half ago. I'm ready to go home to see my family, but I'm certainly not ready to stop traveling, meeting new people, and taking in all this world has to offer.

Ionian Sea Accommodation

2008-11-12T14:56:00.004Z

I'm not sure if you imagined I'd actually sleep on the deck of the ferry; but, I did. See below:

Best bed on the ferry ...

Features Article

2008-11-11T21:30:00.004Z

Just about two weeks ago, a former coworker of mine from The University of Iowa Foundation and current student at The University of Iowa emailed me requesting my thoughts on traveling abroad post-graduation. She was putting together an article for a Features writing class she is currently enrolled in. Kathleen Olp's finished article is brilliant, and I wanted to share it with you all. Enjoy.

Kathleen Olp

Features

10/30/2008

With graduation looming, Cat Gaa felt the grasp of anxiety slowly shake the cushy confines of her college life. She feared the day she would be savagely cast into the hostile job market, expected to fend for herself. So she did what many of her peers were doing across the country; she left.

Gaa moved to Andalucía, Spain in 2007, about 10 miles west of Seville to teach English; a microcosm of a larger phenomenon spreading across the US, in which college graduates are increasingly participating in international service or more generally simply “going abroad”.

“I got confirmation from the Spanish Ministry of Education about a week or so before graduation, screamed my lungs out and got really worked up about teaching,” she said. “Twelve hours a week, $1000 a month and the chance to get the hell out of Chicago.”

According to the Open Doors survey report, published annually by the Institute of International Education with funding from the U.S. Department of State's Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, US students going abroad increased by 8.5% to a total of 223,534 in 2007.

Sara Burden, the Associate Director and Coordinator of Career Education at the Pomerantz Career Center said she sees the increased interest in students wanting to go abroad after graduation.

“There are lots of questions about opportunities abroad, especially in the age of globalization,” she said. “Many companies create international relationships and students want to be a part of that.”

She said while the career center doesn’t place students in jobs abroad, they do assist with international internships and offer resources to give students the credentials to get abroad.

After graduation, Gaa had a job offer from Shadow Broadcasting, where she had spent a summer interning, but she obstinately refused, unwilling to desert her global aspirations.

“I knew I wanted to go abroad after graduation,” she said. “It was really nice to not stress out about getting a job while everyone else was because I knew that lifestyle wasn't for me.”

Gaa kicked her latent dreams into gear fall of her senior year, making frequent trips to the study abroad office, toying with numerous ways to get abroad, such as working in the UK on a permit from BUNAC, which offers visas to Americans to work oversees.

She decided on teaching English, working 12 hours a week in a public Spanish high school, in which she is an auxiliary norteamericano de conversacion. She works with bilingual students and teachers.

When she’s not teaching, she spends her free time traveling and taking French lessons.

“I thought I wanted to move to the UK and get a real job, but I realized my dream was just to get out of the country for a year or two and live on the cheap,” she said. “I was willing to do anything.”

Matthew Kyhnn, a UI 2007 graduate, also wasn’t prepared to face the drab of the working world. He utilized the BUNAC program and initially went to Ireland.

He’s currently traveling mainland Europe with a Euro Rail pass which is valid for one month and good in over 30 countries on the continent. He’s traveled to Amsterdam, Paris, Munich, Salzburg, and is currently in Budapest, with plans to go to Venice next. The he heads south to Rome and Sicily before catching a ferry to Greece. From Greece, he said he will go to Turkey and hopefully find work.

“I've fallen in love with traveling, meeting new people, and living outside of my comfort zone - the thought of settling down is, to be quite honest, scary,” Kyhnn said.

Even the threats of deportation haven’t curbed his precarious lifestyle, as he is out of work visas.

“I don't have a clue where I'll be in the next month - without a job, my funds will quickly run out,” he said. “It's scary, as you can imagine - but also exciting in its own, unique way.”

Kyhnn managed to talk a friend into traveling with him, UI 2007 graduate Brian Wolken, who also received a visa from BUNAC, valid in Ireland for four months and the UK for six months.

He’s held various jobs ranging from working on a salmon farm in Ireland to bar tending in Scotland, resembling a modern day Jack Kerouac; the acclaimed author who is known for pioneering the “beat generation” of the 1950s, writing of his wanderings across the west. Wolken is currently inter railing around Europe.

“As I sit here in Budapest. It is one of the most amazing places I have been in my life. And I never knew anything about it before,” he said. “Tomorrow I'll be in Venice.”

Wolken is slowly facing the confines of his current situation, unable to find a work visa in other EU countries.

He doesn’t foresee kicking his habit anytime soon though, as he will travel to Turkey, where he hopes to secure work.

“I'm in love with traveling, I'll never quit.”

thoughts from the ferry

2008-11-11T18:03:00.001Z

10/11/2008 – 8:05PM

Right, so I’m safely on the ferry and just now leaving the port in Bari. I’m notoriously late. Luckily, I wasn’t even running behind today. I was on the boat by 6:30. I was shocked to see the ferry leaving port at 7:50 – ten minutes before its scheduled departure. With my luck, its amazing I wasn’t running to see the bloody boat leaving without me.

I’ve just in the past five minutes realized one of the biggest downsides to traveling solo (at least traveling solo on a ferry where the vast majority of the passengers speak either Greek or Italian): I have no one to share my thoughts with. Normally, this isn’t a huge deal. But, when you have a really funny thought – as in a thought that makes you literally laugh out loud, as I just was – you really want to share it with someone. Since I don’t (damn you Brian), I decided to quick open the laptop and share it with any of the readers that still check my blog.

So, some quick background: One of the things I did this summer was hike the Great Glen Way, a 79 mile hike from Fort William to Inverness in the Highlands of Scotland. It was an outstanding week – also, as you can imagine, very exhausting. Brian and I rough camped along the way. To save weight, I ended up buying what is called a Hennessy Hammock – a lightweight (1.9kg) and compact hammock which serves as a tent. While not terribly warm, it was very practical for the hike Brian and I did. You might be thinking, ‘How can you sleep in a hammock?” Indeed, this was my thought as well. But, after trying one out, I was sold. I sleep just as well if not better than I do in a normal bed.

So, I’m on the ferry, as you know. With my InterRail pass I was essentially able to get a free trip to Greece (with the exception of paying port taxes, E7). The only stipulation is I don’t have a cabin – I have an oversized airplane seat. As I was just looking around the cabin, I noticed some thrifty travelers had already staked out their spot on the floor with their sleeping bags or blankets. I erupted into laughter when I imagined myself stringing my hammock up between two of the pillars in the cabin. I may actually see if they’ll let me. If not in the cabin, maybe on the outside deck. I can’t imagine it will be any colder than it was in the Highlands.

That’s it for now. cheers

journey to bari

2008-11-10T11:45:00.002Z

9/11/2008 – 11:56 AM

Yesterday evening, at around 10 PM, I said farewell to my good mate and trusted travel partner Brian in Messina, Italy, on the Northeast coast of Sicily. It was a quintessential train station goodbye with Brian standing and waving on the platform and me waving goodbye from the train window. “See you in Turkey,” I yelled, and my 22:02 train to Naples left the station. It is a strange feeling to begin traveling solo – I’m not sure I’ve traveled significantly without Brian since leaving home in September of 2007. The plan is to rendezvous someplace in Turkey in one or two weeks time.

I’m currently on a train headed to Bari on the East coast of Italy. At 8PM tonight, I’ll catch a ferry to Greece and arrive in Patras 16 potentially painful hours later. The trip to Bari proved to be much more difficult than the rail map I had implied: I left Messina at 22:02 last night and arrived in Naples at 4:30 this morning – from Naples, I caught the 5:03 train to Caserta, arriving at 6:00. The train station in Caserta is not someplace you want to be at six in the morning. To be fair, you probably wouldn’t want to be in any train station at six in the morning. When I arrived, I was going to have a look at the ticket machine to verify my next connection. I ended up waiting a bit as I didn’t want to disturb the stray dogs or homeless men blocking the way.

My connecting train to Bari didn’t leave until 11, so instead of hanging around the train station all morning I set off to explore the town of Caserta. As I wandered the streets of the small town, it became evident that I was up far earlier than most of the town's residents – perhaps not surprising as today is a Sunday. Other than the odd clusters of old men reading their newspapers on park benches, street cleaners tidying up after a seemingly chaotic Saturday evening, or stray dogs wandering around aimlessly, there wasn’t much going on in Caserta. Eventually, the many street cafes and newspaper agents began to open up their shops and with this, I found a spot in the sun and enjoyed some café and a newspaper I’ve been meaning to read. It ended up being an enjoyable morning in a town I before knew nothing about – a town, I would venture to guess, that is largely overlooked and bypassed by tourists and travelers.

I think Italy will go down as one of my favorite countries in Europe. I haven’t seen even a fraction of what Italy has to offer, yet I’ve spent an enjoyable seven or eight days getting to know Italy’s people and their customs. If nothing else, I’ve fallen in love with their coffee and their café/bars. I knew I would enjoy Italy from the moment I stepped of the train in Venice. Upon walking into the train station’s café, I was greeted with a long, high-top bar just as you’d find in any US or UK bar or pub. However, instead of barmen pouring pints or mixing cocktails, you had baristas serving up Café Americanos, Espressos, Cappucino, Macchiato, and the like. These types of cafes aren’t unique to train stations but are instead found throughout Italy’s towns and cities. They are brilliant.

When I set off on this InterRail journey throughout the continent I didn’t really have much of a plan – that is, I hadn’t made a list with countries or cities I wanted to see. Brian and I just imagined we’d use or Lonely Planet and train timetable book and see where we ended up. The only place I knew wanted to see was Venice. I wasn’t at all disappointed.

Venice was everything I expected it to be. Venice is a city whose beauty quite literally takes your breath away ...

9/11/2008 - 11:28 PM

So, at this point in my writing, my computer ran out of battery and I was conveniently forced to take a much needed nap. I had imagined myself to continue the post on the ferry en route to Greece. After getting off the train in Bari I was faced with the difficult task of finding a cash point and getting something to eat. The entire town seemed to be shut down. Today is Sunday, and I’ve since gathered that Bari is a deeply religious community. After getting off the train, getting some cash, and finding something to eat, I made my way to the Bari Ferry Port. I arrived to find the port ticket office relatively deserted; instantly, I knew something wasn’t right.

“Parla Ingles?” I asked the lone ticket agent. “A little,” she apprehensively said. “I would like to book a seat on the 8PM ferry to Patras,” I told her. Deep down, I knew what was inevitably coming. “Sorry,” she proclaimed, “there is no ferry until tomorrow night.”

Terrific. Bloody terrific. I was instantly shattered. Not only would I be stuck in a port town for the next 24 hours, my tentative schedule would be pushed back one entire day. If time wasn’t of the essence (my InterRail pass expires Wednesday and I still need to get across the Ionian Sea, all the way through Greece, and ideally into Istanbul), this wouldn’t be the end of the world. I was gutted. I was angry with myself and frustrated with the situation. A person stronger than myself would have gotten over it much quicker than I did – but, for the next three or four hours I was quite pessimistic about the entire scenario. With help from Brian via text messaging, I was able to find out where the one backpackers hostel in town was. Still frustrated. It took me a good hour to find the place, and when I did, I paid only slightly less than I did in Paris and Rome. Still frustrated. There is no internet, a 12AM curfew (first time I’ve ever seen this in a hostel), and sheets for the bed aren’t included in the price of the room (first time ever). Still frustrated. And, to top it off, I’m sharing my dorm with two lovebirds studying abroad from the States. As you might imagine, this only makes me miss Nicole more. Still frustrated.

Enough of the negativity. I just got back from a wee wander around my hostel. As I had taken the bus here, I hadn’t yet had the chance to check out the area where my hostel is located. Bari Backpackers is located on the edge of the 'historical center' of Bari. The entire area has a majestic feel to it tonight - essentially deserted with the exception of the lone couple out for a walk or the scooter navigating the winding, narrow, stone alleyways. It almost felt as though I was walking through a part of the city stuck in time fifteen years ago. Through windows and open doors you could see families sitting down to dinner or huddled around the television - some old men were seated on kitchen chairs which they had moved outside of their front doors - the days washing was hanging on clothes lines above the streets. I would turn a corner and come across shrine like windows with pictures of Jesus or the Virgin Mary. The streets reminded me very much of Southern Spain and Portugal. The white stone streets and buildings had a solemn yet majestic glow to them from the yellow lights illuminating the alleyways. It was unbelievable, and I slowly became glad I ended up spending the night in Bari.

Right. So, again, Venice was stunning. A beautiful and bizarre city where nearly all aspects of day to day life revolve in some way around the city's canals. How can you not be impressed with a city built on 117 islands, with over 150 canals, and more than 400 bridges? Instead of delivery trucks, Venice has delivery boats. With 150 canals, Venice doesn't have a public bus system, rather it has a public Vaporetti system - boats which serve as buses bringing people all around the city and the surrounding islands. Instead of your bus stop, you have a dock which the Vaporetto pulls up to, the deck hand ties it up, and the passengers jump on before it moves on to the next stop.

After spending three nights in the city, it was apparent I wasn't the only traveler who wanted to experience the city. Venice sees upwards of 20 million visitors a year. While not a lot in comparison to say the 7o plus million that visit Paris, it becomes a headache when these 20 million visitors are crammed onto Venice's narrow streets and walkways. I can't imagine visiting the city in the high season. Nonetheless, it was shocking to be on one busy street one minute, shoulder to shoulder with your neighbor and then to move two streets in the other direction to find a residential part of the city completely void of tourists. A wonderful place which I would love to visit again.

From Venice, Brian and I traveled to Rome - a city full of 2.5 million people and 2,700 years of history. A lot to take in, as you can imagine. We were there for two days packed full of the sightseeing you would expect in Rome: Vatican City, the Sistine Chapel with Michelangelo's jaw dropping frescoes, St Peter's Basilica, the Pantheon, and of course the Colessum and Rome's many beautiful fountains. It was mind blowing to think of the time frame that many of the buildings were built. The Colosseum - rivaling Kinnick Stadium by holding 50,000 people - was finished in 80AD.

All of this was great, but the highlight of my time spent in Rome was watching the US Presidential election with hundreds of other expatriated Americans. Democrats Abroad, an organization which unites Democrats living overseas, was hosting an event which coincidentally was going on directly across the street from the hostel where I was staying. I spent the historic evening drinking Italian vino and watching CNN with study-abroad students, professors, businessmen, and many other Americans who in one way or another found themselves living in Rome. Yes we can! Goodbye George, you won't be missed.

From Rome, we traveled to Sicily where we spent two relaxing evenings. For one of these, I was camped out on a small island off the coast of Taormina - an island only barely accessible at low tide. Sicily was great - in addition to the sun, the warm weather, the beaches, and Mt. Etna (Europe's largest and most active volcano), the Sicilian people were very laid back and hospitable. I would have loved to spend more time exploring the island, but I cut my time there short to try and catch the ferry which didn't leave tonight.

I'll try and get some pictures posted soon. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, I'll be en route to Greece. cheers, mk

night train

2008-11-04T17:31:00.001Z

31/10/2008 – 8:55

Right, so, I’m on a night train heading to Venice. The train left Budapest at 5pm and will arrive in Venice at 7am tomorrow. Its my first real experience with train travel in Eastern Europe – I’d be lying if I said its anywhere as close to glamorous as Western Europe train travel. This being said, its cheap, its efficient, and its definitely an experience.

My ever so trustworthy Lonely Planet has provided me thus far with great advice for my travels in Scotland, Ireland, Spain, and Prague. For those trips I had specific books aimed at each previously mentioned country or city. The Lonely Planet book I’m traveling with now is the ‘Europe On a Shoestring’ edition. While not as useful as other editions, it does have the added advantage of covering all European countries and most towns or cites that deserve to make it on a map.

I digress. One of the sections in the Shoestring book talks about the potential dangers of train travel. Namely, trains in Eastern Europe. Similar to an over-protective parent, Lonely Planet makes sure to cover all potential hazards that a traveler could encounter while jumping across Europe. Currency exchange scams, pick pocketing, nightlife scams, and the dangers of train travel – specifically, overnight train travel in Eastern Europe. For the most part, I had disregarded most of these threats as being a bit over the top. That is, until I hopped on the Budapest – Venice overnight train.

Significantly older and dirtier, and smelling quite distinctively of old cigarette smoke this train is potentially the perfect venue for some of Shoestring’s ‘worst case scenarios.’ Baggage theft, druggings, and the situation which I find most far-fetched; the situation in which a potential thief opens your compartment door in the middle of the night and tosses in a canister, or pill, or something which releases gas and completely knocks out the passengers so said theft can steal all the traveler’s belongings. I don’t imagine it will happen – not with broken lock on our compartment door anyway... All part of the journey, right?

Budapest was for lack of a better word, amazing. Brian and I had only intended on staying for two nights but ended up sleeping in ‘Pest for one extra night. Budapest is a lovely place full of natural thermal spas, very interesting and recent history, and – most importantly – an extremely cheap place to spend a couple nights. Budapest is situated on top of a number of natural, hot springs. Above many of these, there are beautiful thermal spas. Budapestians (?) believe the waters from these springs bring you many natural health benefits. Many locals wake up, head to their local spa, and ‘soak’ for a couple hours before heading to the office. After spending a day at the Szechini Spa in Budapest City Park, I gather that many of the old, retired, locals spend most of their waking hours there as well. The Szechini Spa is the largest spa in Europe, and for 2600ft (£10), I was able to spend the day soaking in thermal baths, healing in medicinal pools, and lounging in saunas and steam rooms. Somehow, I was exhausted by the end of the day.

This is probably an epic point to finish this post. Just moments ago, the train stopped in seemingly the middle of nowhere. It turns out, we were at the Hungary – Croatia border. Soon after the train stopped, our compartment door jolted open and a uniformed officer appeared. “(mumbling in a language I didn’t understand), Passport.” This happened another two times before the train again started moving.

Venice, here I come. mk

e i f f e l t o w e r

2008-10-28T23:37:00.000Z

breakfast in munich. lunch in salzburg. dinner in budapest.

2008-10-28T14:19:00.003Z

28.10.2008 - 10:12am

I’m just over one week into my three week InterRail journey throughout Europe. As I write this post, I’m sitting on a train going from Munich to Salzburg. I’ll spend the day in Salzburg before catching a train to Budapest.

I’m fully convinced train travel is the most enjoyable way to travel. If possible, I’d never again set foot on an airplane – let alone a bloody airport full of ques, chaos, security checks, baggage weight limits, and the list could go on. I’m sitting in a six-person cabin which Brian and I have to ourselves. There’s plenty of legroom with no one telling me to wear my seatbelt or when I can and can’t go to the toilet. Instead of the sounds of jet engines and views of only clouds, I’m listening to the clicking of the train tracks and watching the green, mountainous, countryside of southern Germany slowly pass by. I believe you feel much more connected to your journey on a train – you’re able to see the ground you cover and watch the landscapes gradually change.

I greatly enjoyed my three days spent in southern Germany - in Bavaria. Munich was lovely; a perfectly sized city of just over one million people. One million welcoming, laid back, and beer loving people – on average, Germans drink over 130 liters of beer a year. Munich is the perfect example of a city where you could come to spend a week and stay a lifetime. If only I knew German. Other than hello, goodbye, please, and thank you, “Noch zwei dunkle bitte,” is as far as I got. ‘I’d like two more dark beers please.”

Brian and I had our first German breakfast with our couchsurfing host, Tami. Tami took us to a large, open, Bavarian beer hall with tiled floors, dark wooden benches, and a high ceiling where we had pretzels, white sausages, and a wheat beer. Beautiful. I guess there are certain beers you drink at certain times of the day – a fruity wheat beer according to Tami is a breakfast beer. We unfortunately didn’t have much of a chance to get to know Tami as she left Saturday afternoon to see her boyfriend in France. She did give us the perfect introduction to Bavaria.

On Saturday afternoon, Brian and I had a couple hours to kill before catching a train to see the Neuschwanstein Castle in Fussen; the castle is a 19th century Bavarian palce and is one of the most photographed buildings in Germany. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon and we decided we would grab a beer in one of Munich’s many biergartens. Our afternoon got off to a questionable start. We found ourselves a sunny table and sat down. Unlike the UK or Ireland, you don’t go to the bar to get your beers. Instead, a waitress comes to your table and takes your order ... or so we thought. We sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. Something wasn’t right; there were two or three waitresses running around with food and beers, but none of them seemed to take notice of us.

Finally, someone took pity on us, "This table," they said in broken English, "is reserved for everyday people." I later found out that we were sitting in a Stammtisch - a regulars' table. The waiters and waitresses will refuse service to tourists who occupy a local patron's table. Some luck! We moved tables, and soon we had two 1 liter steins of Bavarian pilsner to enjoy.

So, I'll be in Salzburg, Austria, by 11am to spend the day. If all goes as planned, I'll catch the 5pm train and be in Budapest by 11pm tonight. mk

city of l i g h t s

2008-10-24T15:24:00.003+01:00

Paris. The City of Love. The City of Lights. Two million people in Paris proper with ten million in the entire metropolitan area. 72 million tourists come to Paris each year, and right now, Matthew Kyhnn is one of them.

I will say, as an American who speaks only English, its not exactly an easy place to be. After spending ten months in English speaking Scotland, you quickly forget how stressful, frustrating, and bewildering it is to try and navigate and survive in a city the size of Paris where literally no one speaks English.

Brian and I arrived in Paris with zero plans as far as accommodation. Always a good decision. After a couple hours of wandering the city's streets and subways, we finally found a hostel we had looked up online. Unfortunately, we also found they were full and had no bed available. The French bloke working the front desk offered no help in finding an alternative place to stay. He simply pointed two ways out of the hostel, and told us, "If you walk towards the canal, you may find a hostel, but I don't know if they'll have rooms." Fun. As it turns out, we ended up checking into a dodgy one star hotel. We had no toilet - no toilet as in, no toilet in the entire 'hotel.' Also, we had to pay E3 extra each for a shower. Either way, it was a place to sleep. First impressions of Paris weren't too good.

We spent yesterday exploring the city on our own and with a walking tour. We ended up back at the hostel where said unhelpful French bloke worked the next morning. As it turns out, the hostel was again full, but they held our bags for the day. While we were there, we met an ex-pat American lady who worked for the hostel and led tours. She was lovely and took us on a very informative and laid back tour of the city.

We ended up checking into a new hostel last night. It was the first time since I've again left traveling where I've had to opportunity to sit down with other fellow travelers and just, hang out. Over a couple bottles of wine we exchanged stories, discussed our travels, and really just had the craic. It was brilliant. Very refreshing.

Yesterday ended with Brian and I sitting at the base of the Eiffel Tower and drinking a bottle of wine. An epic way to spend an evening. When I think of Europe, the first thing that comes to my mind is the Eiffel Tower. It was a stunning sight - illuminated in blue sparkling every hour on the hour (to the tune of E2,000 a day).

I realized again last night how lucky I am to be where I'm at in my life. I've met so many wonderful people along the way, seen so many sights, and learned so much about myself. I'm not ready for this portion of my life to finish, but sooner or later I'm afraid it will. It will have most definitely been a journey I'll never forget.

cheers, mk

safe in the 'dam

2008-10-19T13:36:00.002+01:00

I've made it safely to Amsterdam.

First impressions can be summed up with, 'wow.' What a bizarre city. Amsterdam is best known for the presence of decriminalized drugs and legalized prostitution. True, this was more than evident in the quick hour long stroll I had throughout the city before checking into a hostel. But, lesser known, perhaps, is the beauty of the city. Touted as being one of Europe's 'most beautiful cities,' you can see the draw many people have to Amsterdam. The city centre is filled with winding, 17th century cobblestone streets and a maze of canals - thus Amsterdam is also known as the, 'Venice of the North.'

The ferry ride was less than ideal. I spent most of my time curled up in my tiny, two berth, cabin fighting off seasickness. I never got sick, but I sure got close.

Regardless, I'm here. Its an exciting feeling to again begin traveling. mk

goodbyes

2008-10-18T09:46:00.002+01:00

Oh my, a new post on Matt's blog! Shocking, I know.

As I sit down to write, I'm on a train leaving Scotland and heading to Newcastle. From Newcastle, I'm catching an overnight ferry to Amsterdam to meet up with my mate Lyndon from Ireland. We'll spend a couple nights in Amsterdam before Brian and I leave for a month long trip around mainland Europe. We have InterRail passes and will be traveling via train throughout the continent.

To say I have mixed emotions right now would be a complete and total understatement. I'm excited for what the next month or more may bring. It should be unbelievable. Yet I've just had to say goodbye to Nicole, my girlfriend of seven months -a goodbye that we both knew was going to come sooner or later. A difficult goodbye, to say the least. I'm so lucky to have met her and spent the time with her I did. Who knows what the future will bring? Being seperated will undoubtedly be difficult, but this I suppose is the story and definition of life. I spent nine months and 18 days living in Scotland. I can't believe how quickly the time has gone by. I'll miss Scotland. A brilliant country with so much history, pride, and beauty.

My summer flew by. I use the term summer quite liberally as there wasn't much for a 'summer' in Edinburgh. You could probably count on one hand the number of sunny days we saw. Towards the end of June I went away on holiday with Nicole to Prague. I quickly fell in love with Prague - a beautiful city with much to offer by way of arts, culture, and architecture (and really good lager!). Prague feels very much like an Eastern European city that isn't yet ready for the massive influx of tourists its seen in the past couple years. When I arrived back to Edinburgh, I found work in a small, city centre, real ale pub. It was a welcome change to the high street, brewery owned pub where I spent my first six months working. One of the smallest pubs in Edinburgh, we served quality cask ales and had a solid group of regulars.

I chuckled as I was reading my last post as I ended with the talk of not knowning what I'm doing with my life. I still don't, I suppose. I do know that without soon finding a source of income, my days of traveling Europe will soon come to an end. And, without any work visas lined up, finding a source of income may prove to be difficult. But, for now, I have what I imagine will be an unbelivable month ahead of me. cheers, mk

2008-06-12T13:26:00.003+01:00

Somehow, it's always a connection to Iowa that drives me to sit down and post to my blog. I send my apologies to those of you who continue to check back regularly - only to find I still haven't updated you with a new post. Much has happened since I last sat down to write. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure where to start.

First, my connection to Iowa. I was at one of the local pubs after finishing at Deacons last night. As I was waiting to order at the bar, I heard a group of people with American accents order - "Captain and Cokes." Their accents were enough to at least let me know they were form the US, but so was the way in which they ordered their drinks. Most Scottish folk would order a 'Morgans and Coke." A small difference, but considering many of my waking hours are spent working in a pub, this was enough to clue me in to their nationality. Curious as to where they were from, I asked them.

One of the guys in the group said, "We're from Iowa. Do you even know where that is?" I chuckled and pulled up the leg of my jeans to show my Tigerhawk tattoo. "I'm actually from Iowa myself," I told them. They were quite shocked and said, "What? But you have an accent!" I don't think I've quite picked up a Scottish accent - but, I think it depends who you ask.

Since sitting down last, I've said hello and goodbye to my folks. They were here just about one month ago for two weeks. We had a terrific time and spent some of our time here in Edinburgh and some of our time traveling the Highlands of Scotland. It was fascinating to get out of the city and see other parts of this country which has been my home for the past five or so months. The Highlands provide breathtaking scenery at every turn - lochs (lakes), glens (valleys), and bens (mountains) are everywhere. We hired a car and were out of Edinburgh for just over one week. It was great to again see and spend time with my parents - it was hard to believe it was six months since I had last seen them last in Ireland.

I was glad they were able to spend some time in the city with me and see where I'd spent my time for the last five months. My home, if you will. They were able to stay in the flat with Brian and I - we branded it the M & B B & B (Matt and Brian Bed and Breakfast!). They spent some time with me in Deacons and were able to see me work one evening. I took them to many of my favorite pubs. And, they got to meet Nicole - a girl who I've been seeing for the past two months or so.

If you follow the below link, you will be able to see some photos from the week.

I'm still not certain what I'm doing with my life. I'm taking it day by day. I'll have to leave Deacons at the end of this month as my visa expires. I'll most likely head to mainland Europe for a week or so before coming back into Scotland on a temporary visa. Ideally, I'll find some sort of employment and work through the end of August so I can stay in the city for the Edinburgh International Festival. But then again, who knows?

quick post

2008-04-28T09:38:00.009+01:00

I'm not entirely certain how it has already been two weeks since my last post. Where has the month of April gone? Thanks to those of you who keep checking back ... my apologies for the lack of reading material lately.

Spring is beginning to take hold here in Edinburgh. There have been more nice days than rainy days in the past week. Something I'm not entirely used to.

So. Whats the latest? Well. You'll maybe be excited to know that I've decided what to do with my life come the end of June. Actually, thats me being sarcastic. I haven't the faintest idea. What I do know is this. As of Saturday morning, I no longer live in my wee Thistle Street flat. Brian and I moved across town to a flat where we knew some guys who were moving out. Other working holiday lads ... two Americans and a Canadian. Still a one bedroom, but significantly bigger than my old flat - plus, we have bunk beds. And a microwave.

Speaking of bunk beds. This is where my parents will be staying when they come to visit. I cannot wait to see them. We don't really have much for plans, but I'm sure it'll be a terrific two weeks. I imagine we'll do some things in and around Edinburgh for the first week or so (this way, I can still work evenings), and then either head to the Highlands of Scotland ... or catch a cheap flight to mainland Europe. Who knows.

Also, I have a quick story that again shows how amazingly small this world is. I was working at the pub the other night when this group of Americans came in. Ten or so of them ... I think they were in Edinburgh on some sort of business. One of the gents came to the bar and said to me sarcastically, "That's quite the Scottish accent you have. Where are you from?"

After finding out where I was from, he informed me there was a lady at his table who he believed was from Iowa as well. Indeed she was. She came up to talk with me and I told her I grew up in Southwest Iowa. It ends up she lived in Adair (twenty miles away). "What is your last name," she inquired.

"Kyhnn," I told her.

"No kidding. Is your dad by chance Mark Kyhnn? He did my taxes for twenty years."

What are the chances?!

I have some pictures for you all below.

me, posting to my blog in the Newcastle Airport, drinking a Newcastle Brown Ale

view of the irish countryside as I was arriving to cork ... in three months i managed to forget how unbelievably green the irish landscape is

kinsale, ireland

irish pub of the year, 2004

note to self

when I was leaving ireland, i had a 12 hour layover at the dublin airport. i didn't really want to spend the day in the busy city of dublin, so a caught a bus to this small, seaside, suburb north of the city. terrific place to spend the day.

Now. Onto pictures of my new town. Edinburgh.

a rather unimpressive view of the edinburgh castle

view of the city from atop calton hill

arthur's seat

bottom of the royal mile ... the high street in edinburgh. it stretches approximately one (go figure) mile. at the top, you have the edinburgh castle. at the bottom, you have hollyrood palace - which is where the queen stays when in scotland.

a loch in the area surrounding arthurs seat

view of the firth of forth from the top of arthurs seat

Thistle Street. You can see the entrance to the pub on the right. I lived about five doors down.

Below are pictures of my old flat. There are only three. The flat wasn't very big!

stay well, mk.

check this out.

2008-04-11T15:28:00.002+01:00

So, sooner or later, I'll come back home to the US. When I'll do this, where I'll live, and what I'll do for employment are all pressing questions to answer on another day. For now, I decided I'd give you all an idea of what you can surprise me with ... you know, a welcome home present.

I can't think of anything better than this - check it out here.

cheers.

out of edinburgh.

2008-04-09T15:04:00.003+01:00

On Monday, for the first time since I arrived in Edinburgh (barring my trip back to Ireland), I made it out of the city. Without a car, its difficult to go on daytrips - considering this, my day to day life consists mostly of well ... working.

During the rare day off, I often explore this town of Edinburgh which has been my home for the last four months. A beautiful town at that - on one side of town - Old Town - you have winding streets based on a medieval plan, Reformation era buildings, and of course the ominous Edinburgh Castle situated on Castle Rock. This Castle, with its commanding location overlooking Edinburgh, sits on a site which has been inhabited since the 850BC. The other side of town - New Town (where I currently stay) - is renowned as a masterpiece in city planning. Originally built to provide overflow from the populated Old Town, New Town was built in stages between 1765 and 1850. Since 1995, both sides of town have been named UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Essentially, the entire city of Edinburgh is deemed a site of, "outstanding cultural or natural importance to the common heritage of humanity."

Not a bad place to live.

Nonetheless, it was great to leave the hustle and bustle of city life on Monday. My friend Nicole and I made our way south out of town the the Rosslyn Chapel. This beautifully decorated chapel built in the mid 15th Century is home to many myths, legends, and fine decorative stone carving. The chapel was made internationally popular after the publishing of The Da Vinci Code. Prior to the publication of the book - and later the movie - The Rosslyn Chapel would see around 20,000 visitors each year. Since then, they have averaged 120,000 visitors each year. Thanks Dan Brown. The Chapel sits atop a sealed crypt which is rumored to hold the mummified head of Jesus Christ, the Holy Grail, and/or the original crown Jewels of Scotland. Also interesting, among the many fine carvings in the stones of the Chapel, you can find carvings of maize - or American Corn. This is interesting considering the crop was thought to be unknown to Europe at the time of the construction of the Chapel. Some authors use this evidence to argue the fact that a team of Scotsmen actually discovered the Americas before Columbus.

We continued south to the area of Scotland known as the Scottish borders. It was shocking to see how the landscape could change in 50 - 75 miles. Shortly after leaving Edinburgh city centre, we were driving through snow covered hills and mountains. I unfortunately managed to forget my camera ... I'll do my best to get some pictures to share with you all.

In other news, my flat sold. So, come the end of the month, I need to find a new place to stay. A plethora of other decisions are lying at my feet - namely, what the hell am I going to do come the end of my UK Work Visa. Time will tell. And I'll keep you posted.

best, mk

weather.

2008-04-03T16:07:00.004+01:00

I know you're dying to know what the weather has been like in Edinburgh. So, I'll tell you. Prior to today, Edinburgh was blessed with a couple unseasonably warm days. They were fantastic. Fifteen, maybe eighteen degrees (60sF ish). At Deacons, we had the doors open and tables outside - it was a welcome change to the typical Edinburgh day.

I used the warm days - or the day I had off - to get a little well needed exercise. One of my staff meal options at work is haggis - a traditional Scottish dish. I eat it often. Before I list the ingredients, let me assure you that the completed dish actually tastes amazing. Haggis consists of sheep's heart, liver, and lungs and is mixed with oatmeal, spices, maybe some onions. Traditional haggis is prepared in the sheep's stomach.

Aren't you dying to try a dish? If the description isn't enough to make your mouth water - here is a picture ...

So, although haggis probably isn't the healthiest dish to eat two or three times a week, I can't help but not order it at work. I mean, when will I be working and living in Scotland ever again? And it truly is delicious.

The run on my day off took me to the summit of Arthur's Seat. Arthur's Seat is an 823ft mountainesk hill that is just outside of Edinburgh. Not an easy run - or walk for that mater - but I enjoy the challenge and if nothing else the unbeatable views of Edinburgh, its suburbs, and the Firth of Forth.

The warm days last week were apparently only a taunting taste of what Edinburgh's summer will feel like. Today, as I was walking to work at 9am, I was fighting gusting winds, cold, and ... snow showers.

week in ireland

2008-04-01T18:13:00.003+01:00

After a week long holiday in Ireland, I'm back home in Edinburgh. And, I must say, it was a terrific trip. As I mentioned in my last post, I was quite stressed in the days working up to my departure from the Burgh. I wanted a perfect week for Lauren and myself. Nearly everyone I voiced my concerns to in the days before the trip had the same response, "Matt, you're going to be in Ireland - it will be great no mater what happens."

They were probably right - plus, everything went as good as I could have planned. A special week in a special country. Numerous times we'd be driving through a small Irish village, or sitting in a small pub, or taking in the beautiful scenery that Ireland provides and I'd just smile. It was such a terrific feeling to be back in the country and taking it all in with someone who had yet to experience the Irish way - their laid back attitude, the ambiance of their pubs, the spontaneity of traditional Irish music, and of course the many beautiful landscapes on the island the size of Iowa.

Considering the time and money we had at our disposal, we saw a good deal of things in the South and West of Ireland. We kissed the Blarney Stone at the Blarney Castle. We spent two nights in the picturesque seaside village of Kinsale in the posh accommodation of Dempsey's Hostel (sarcasm). We toured one of the best surviving examples of a 17th century star shaped fort in Summercove. We somehow hired a car (when they gave me the keys I said to Lauren, "Run before they change their minds!"). We made the slow, meandering drive around the picture-perfect Ring of Kerry. We experienced Doolin and impromptu trad sessions in its three lovely pubs. We did the Cliffs of Moher. We made it back to my favorite County Galway town and had the craic with my mates. We drove the Sky Road of the Connemara which brings tears to one old Irish fisherman's eyes. The craic was mighty.

The week flew by and it was difficult to say goodbye to a face from home - but, goodbyes are never easy. It was indeed an unforgettable week. Thanks Lauren for coming to visit.

newcastle

2008-03-24T13:25:00.002Z

It only feels right to be drinking a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale as I sit in the pub at the Newcastle Airport. It also only felt right to be running to catch my train out of Edinburgh this morning – running late when traveling seems to be how I travel best. The Newcastle is lovely … better, I venture to guess, than it tastes in Iowa. Maybe it’s my proximity to the Newcastle Brewery? Or, maybe it’s all in my head. I have – I must say – become a connoisseur of pints of the Black Stuff. Guinness. I’m excited to return to Ireland and see if my pallet notices the difference between Edinburgh pints and Ireland pints. I reckon it will. Aren’t you proud, Mom and Dad? Maybe even slightly better than the club I joined in Iowa City?!

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been stressing out over the upcoming week. I’m so excited to see Lauren but I’ve felt pressured to ensure the week goes as smoothly and as well as possible. In my head, I know it will. One of my concerns has been traveling Ireland without a car. The bus system in Ireland is class – it goes to nearly any village imaginable. This being said, however you often have to wait for buses and considering the nature of the Irish roadway infrastructure, the ride often takes longer than one would desire. I’m excited though as I think I figured out the ideal situation.

I was sitting on the train this morning yet again checking various car rental websites for their rates. Considering I’m living in the UK, the rates aren’t ungodly expensive – in fact, they’re quite reasonable. The problem arises when one takes into consideration my age of 23 years. Most rental agencies either won’t rent to me or if they do, they tack on a 10 or 15 quid a day surcharge because I’m not the magic age of 24 or 25 or 26 or whatever bloody age they’ve decided to pull out of a hat.

After continuing my research today on the train, I’m fairly certain I’ve figured out the best option which includes busing for a couple days and then picking up a car in cork for the second half of the week. I looked over to the girl next to me (not the lady across the isle who was the unlucky target of my pack as it fell from the overhead storage area – she at first seemed to be okay with the unfortunate introduction to my pack, but ten or so minutes after it happened, she looked back at me and said – ‘Sure is going to leave quite the bruise on my leg’ – I continued my apologies. No one told me about the luggage storage area …) and said, “Nothing like considering a last minute car rental for my trip to Ireland, huh?”

I explained to her the scenario, my thoughts, and the potential itinerary I had just developed. “Go on, book it,” she said. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

So I booked it. Assuming all goes as planned, Lauren and I will be picking up our car on the 27th. And then, who knows?

I think the key to the week will be finding the proper balance between relaxing and taking in the pub culture of Ireland while stilling ensuring we are able to see the many sights which Ireland offers. When Brian and I traveled Ireland, time was essentially our oyster (thanks Shakespear). If we stood on the side of the road for four hours to wait for a lift - no worries. If we drank too much Guinness the night before, slept through our checkout time at the hostel, and had to stay in said Irish village one more night - no bother. But we had not timeframe. We were, I guess travelers and not tourists - check out this link for an eloquent explanation of the difference between the two . This week, Lauren and I will be both - and I'll be the traveler/tour guideperson. It promises to be an unforgettable week. best,

mk

things (which are hopefully more interesting than the title)

2008-03-22T23:36:00.002Z

I was talking with my dad last night, and he reminded me of something I've been constantly aware of lately. "You've kind of been neglecting your blog recently, haven't you?" he asked.

I have been. It's been some time since my last post. I guess my rationalization for this is my life hasn't been all to, shall we say, exciting. At least as unexciting as it can be living miles away from Iowa in Edinburgh, Scotland. I've been working a lot - most of my hours are put in at the pub I work for, but I occasionally pick up shifts with the temp agency. My feelings of the two are starkly different. These feelings strongly reinforce my thoughts on ultimately making a decision with what I want to do with my life - you have to enjoy what you do.

I happily work just about forty hours a week for the pub. I find myself hoping I'm scheduled for more hours. I - as the British say - really fancy pub work. Fast paced. Constant interaction with customers. Always something to do. And really, it's good craic. I have fun at work - something which surely is important. As my friend Lauren told me the other day, you can't control a lot of things in life, but you can control things such as the job or employment that you pursue. Don't stress about those things you can't control.

So, though I've been neglecting my blog, I haven't forgotten about it. Nor have I forgotten about those of you who continue to check in with my travels.

I continue to be amazed at how small the world is. Now, to be fair, by the nature of the location of the pub I work for, I'm going to meet a lot of tourists. This being said, I served this American tourist the other night. After talking for awhile, we both confirmed the fact that we were from the states. "Where are you from?" he asked me.

"Iowa." I let him know.

"Oh really, where at in Iowa?" he asked.

"I grew up in Southwest Iowa, in Atlantic, and went to school in Iowa city," I told him.

Turns out, your man ordering a pint of Caledonian 80 was currently living in Arizona - but he was born at the Cass County Memorial Hospital in Atlantic. What are the chances?

Prior to my arrival to the UK, most of my conversations with people I met ended with the same thing - so, what are you doing after Ireland? I always had the answer. 'I have a six month visa in the UK - so, I'll head to the UK and figure it out.' I continue to meet people and often have the same discussion with them - literally daily. And, as in Ireland, it ends with - so, what are you doing after you're done in Scotland? Every time I'm asked this question I'm forced to consider what the next step in my journey will be.

I'm not sure what the answer will be. When I originally left home, the plan was to travel for a couple months and head back stateside. Now, as it's basically the first of April, I have just three months left of my UK visa. These three months will fly by. There is still so much of the world - of Europe for that matter - to see. I love the lifestyle I'm living, and while it will ultimately have to come to an end, I'm not sure when that time will be. Anyway, enough on that (which is coincidentally what I tell Brian any time he tries to talk about what our next step will be!). I can worry about that tomorrow ... or come the first of April.

Monday morning, I'm catching a train from Edinburgh to Newcastle, England, and a plane from Newcastle to Cork to meet my friend Lauren from home. We're going to spend seven days in the homeland (well, my home of four months). I hope it treats her and I as grandly as it did me for four months. I'm excited to head back. And, equally excited to see a face from home.

Happy Easter to you all. While you're all enjoying an Easter brunch, I'll be pouring pints at Deacon Brodies - but enjoying it. Oh, this lifestyle I've chosen. cheers, mk.

thistle street bar

2008-03-12T19:46:00.006Z

Hi, all. I'm sitting down to write from my Edinburgh watering hole. When Brian and I first went to view our flat, we walked past a comfortable looking pub not four or five doors down from our flat entrance. One of us surely said, "That looks like a pub that we'll be spending a fair amount of time at." As it turns out, this has been the case. The Thistle Street Bar ...

... is perfect with its size, ambiance, wi-fi access, selection of ales on tap, and staff. The pub attracts locals who live in the New Town area of Einburgh. An ideal place to have a pint and relax. From the door of my flat to the door of the Thistle Street Bar, I walk less than thirty seconds. So, you can't complain about its location.

I don't sit down to write tonight with any profound thoughts. Really, I don't have much (I don't think). But, I'll share with you some realizations or thoughts I've had in the past couple days.

I worked 9 - 5 today at the pub. I mean, with hours like that, I'm essentially your typical businessman. I arrive to the pub at nine to get things ready for the day and open the doors at ten. While Deacon's attracts, for the most part, tourists, we do have a selection of regulars and random Scottish folk that come in for a pint. Deacon Brodies is situated directly across from the High Court of Justiciary of Scotland. Considering this, in addition to having lawyers who stop in for a pint or two over their lunch hours, we have Kiran who is - from what I can gather - a freelance photographer. He spends some of his day hanging around outside of the courthouse taking pictures and the rest of his day at the pub drinking pints of Tennents Lager (I decided today it'd be a fun experiment to try and hang around Deacon's all day and drink pint for pint with him ... I'm not certain I could do it). I digress. I think the point of this paragraph was this realization about individuals who come to the pub in the late morning:

Any time you're greeted by the barman at your local pub with, "Good Morning," you might have a problem.

Now, on to a word of advice. If you ever find yourself tending bar in Edinburgh the Sunday after the Scotland - England match of the Six Nations Rugby Tournament, never grant a drunk, burly man wearing a kilt permission to do the splits on the bar. Kilts are amazingly commonplace in Scotland. I guess I didn't think much about them before arriving, but I guessed them to be a traditional piece of dress from the past. Not so. Scotsmen wear kilts for most formal events. Or, in the case below, whenever they're out hiking with a sword.

Sunday night, the rugby fans who filled Edinburgh were still continuing to party. Much like the Hawkeye fans who continue to party Saturday night after a Hawkeye football win (even though they have been up since 5am drinking), the Scottish - and English for that mater - continued to drink. One of these lifers dressed in a kilt was in Deacon Brodies Sunday night and asked me, "You think I can get on the bar and do the splits?" Not expecting him to be serious, I mistakenly answered, "Sure." Five seconds later, the man was making his way up on the bar to do the splits. Somehow, myself and the other girl behind the bar were able to convince him to get off before he completed the act (and nearly set his kilt on fire).

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but the weather in Edinburgh is, well as they say rubbish. The wind is nearly always blowing. Most shocking is its propensity to change at the drop of a hat. I was in my flat yesterday afternoon when I thought I heard the door being unlocked. I deemed this as impossible as Brian is in Ireland visiting his parents, but seconds later, a man in a suit walked into my flat. As it turns out, he was a surveyor coming to survey? my flat as it is for sale. Really great guy. The conversation we had made my day. Older guy who after finding out my short-term life story (graduated in May, decided to delay getting a real job, traveling and working, etc), proceeded to tell me about his days traveling the US, Indonesia, and Australia. Anyway, we were talking about Edinburgh, and in addition to many other old-man wise things he told me, he said if you don't like the weather in Edinburgh, wait five minutes, and it will change.

How true that is. This, I tell you, is not a lie. In the course of my eight hour shift at the pub today, Edinburgh had blue skies, rain, overcast skies, freezing rain, and about everything in between. Every time I looked out the window, the weather changed.

cheers.mk.

'heya'

2008-03-05T14:02:00.002Z

Heya as the Scottish say. Not, 'Hello' or 'Hi,' but 'Heya.'

I'm writing today from my desk at my latest assignment with the temp agency I'm working for. Yes folks, I have a desk. I'm kind of a big deal. I'm not working in a cafe, I'm not working behind a bar, and I'm not working a function as a caterer. I'm working on a switchboard at Edinburgh's Aegon office - one of the world's largest life insurance and pension companies.

Let me tell you, it's a blast (all sarcasm intended)!

It may prove to be difficult to get anything significant included in this blog as every so often my computer beeps at me and I have to answer the phone. It goes a little something like this ...

'Good afternoon Aegon Scottish Equitable.' -me

'Yes, hello, my name is David Brandshed with Trifelt Investments. I'm calling about a pension my client has with you, reference number ...' -david (fictional name)

'Sorry to interrupt sir, is that a personal pension?'

'Yes, it is.'

'All right, I can go ahead and transfer you on to our Customer Services desk, and they should be able to help you with option one on the menu. Cheers.'

And then they get the computer recording. Often, when I answer the phone, the customers exclaim, 'Wow, a person!' I chuckle to myself and think just wait, the computer automated voice awaits.

It's definitely been an interesting experience. While the work with the temp agency hasn't always been the most glamorous, it has allowed me to see situations from different perspectives. I was thinking about this as I walked to get a cup of coffee this morning. Just two mornings ago, I was working in the cafe of a different office complex here in Edinburgh - making coffees and sandwiches. I've worked numerous functions and seen the planning (or lack thereof) which goes on behind the scenes. Hell, I've even served as a kitchen porter washing dishes. All of this in the name of earning enough money to live. All of this while holding a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science. All of this with the main goal of experiencing life outside of Iowa, away from friends and family, and outside of my comfort zone.

I read a quote yesterday evening that I loved, and wanted to share with you all - 'The greatest tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.' - W.M. Lewis

iowa ... potatoes?

2008-02-25T23:51:00.002Z

"So, where are you from? Canada?" the man with the North American accent asked me.

"No, I'm from the states actually. From Iowa," I told him.

"Ohhh, Iowa. Potatoes, right," he declared.

"No, you're thinking Idaho. Only corn, soybeans, pigs, and cows in Iowa" I corrected him.

"No, I'm pretty sure Iowa has potatoes," he again declared rather affirmatively.

"Nope," I said again. "No potatoes in Iowa."

One of the other men at the table apparently didn't believe me either. "Yah, you always see 'Made in Iowa' on bags of potatoes in Canada."

Maybe I didn't live in Iowa for 22 years of my life?!

This conversation - or should I say subtle argument - took place at work tonight. I'm one of Edinburgh's newest bartenders. I started one week ago today at a pub called Deacon Brodie's Tavern.

deacon brodies tavern

Deacon Brodies is situated directly on the Royal Mile - only five or ten minutes away from Edinburgh's emblematic Edinburgh Castle which towers over most of the city. While we do have our Scottish regulars, many of Deacon Brodies' patrons are tourists (Eg. The stubborn Canadians). I'm again lucky to have the opportunity to tend bar. While I have plenty of bar experience, the vast majority of this is on the other side of the bar. The tavern is a typical Scottish pub with a selection of Scottish beers, cask ales, and an assortment of malt whiskeys. Considering this, most of my time is spent pouring pints, mixing cocktails, and acting as though I know the ins and outs of malt whiskeys (our Whiskey Bible describes the malts as having characteristics such as 'fruity,' ''floral,' 'smoky,' 'soapy,' etc. I mean, come on!).

That's the latest news in the life of me. If I'm not working at Deacon's, I'm working various assignments for the temp agency. If I'm not doing this, I'm being quite lame as I'm still ... shall we say, broke. My goal as of now is to save money as I have a trip planned for the end of March.

On the 24th of March, I'll be flying from Newcastle, England, to ... Cork, Ireland. Yes, I'm heading back to the Emerald Isle. My good friend Lauren Lewis has always wanted to visit Ireland and decided now, with my close proximity to the island, would be the ideal time. Less than a month away ... it will be here before I know it. I'm excited to go back and am trying to plan the perfect trip.

Thanks to everyone for the supportive words I received after my last post - I appreciate your encouragement and thoughts.

best, mk

lifestyle i've chosen

2008-02-12T21:01:00.000Z

I sit down to write not with any exciting news of travels, pictures of places seen, or people met. I'd be foolish if I expected my journey of traveling and working abroad to be nothing but partying, pleasure, and completely enjoying myself. There are - without a doubt - going to be setbacks to conquer and hills to climb. I'd also be naive to not admit that thus far I've had a pretty good hand dealt to me.

Ireland treated me amazingly. Immediately upon my arrival to the country, I fell in love with the place, the people, and this was surely made possible by my (relatively) carefree three weeks of traveling. When the three weeks or so came to an end, I made the decision to work for face2face. While the work was difficult and I often questioned my employment with the company, it provided many advantages. Free accommodation - I was able to earn Euros while paying nothing for a place to sleep each night. Though I worked long and difficult hours, the pay was good. I believe hindsight has shown me that the greatest benefit from working for face2face wasn't the free accommodation, it wasn't the wages, it maybe wasn't even the feeling of knowing that I was making a difference in the lives of others, but that it provided a perfect venue to make irreplaceable friendships. These friendships absolutely added to my experience in Ireland - an experience that I consider invaluable - one that I will surely remember the rest of my life.

In Galway, I had stupid luck. With zero experience serving, I quite frankly probably didn't deserve the opportunity to work for Ard Bia. But thanks to the goodwill of the staff - namely my manager, within three days of my arrival to Galway, I was working for a brilliant restaurant. Again, I was able to meet wonderful people and immediately had a steady flow of income.

Things in Edinburgh are taking longer to fall completely into place. My attempts at finding gainful, full-time employment have so far been fruitless. I've spent more than a couple afternoons canvassing the town, introducing myself to potential employers, and dropping off my CV with hopes of finding the perfect job. As of yet, it hasn't come my way. And, I have to realize, the perfect job may not immediately (or ever) fall into place. Luckily, the temp agency I'm working for has provided me with the opportunity to work - albeit, none of this work has been overly glamorous or exciting. But, it's work nonetheless.

I guess the purpose behind this post is to show that this path I've chosen isn't as easy as it's maybe seen. I'm hundreds of miles away from close friends, familiarity, and most importantly family. I'm watching my two year old nephew grow up through occasional webcam hellos. Anyone who knew me well in university would know that telephone conversations with my parents were a two or three time a day occurrence. Lately, a weekly hello and email is the extent of my relationship with my folks and my sister. All this being said, I consider myself unbelievably lucky to know that I have the support of such a loving family - regardless of how many miles or time zones separate us. Lucky, as well, to be on this journey - challenges or not.

So with the lifestyle I've chosen comes ups and downs. It's all part of the experience. I'll remember the ups and the downs will surely make me a stronger person.

stay well, everyone. thanks for reading. - mdk

sevilla & madrid, pictures

2008-02-08T21:05:00.001Z

Below, you'll find some pictures from my time in Spain - a wonderful two weeks of relaxation, sun, brilliant food, and beautiful cities. When needed, I've included some commentary and/or explanation of the shots. So, enjoy ...

(editors note: you may notice my clothing changes infrequently throughout these photos - for three weeks, i lived out of a day pack sized backpack -luckily, many of the hostels we found had laundry facilities!)

brian, myself, and cat - drinking tinto de verano

Brian standing outside the Sevilla Cathedral. Sevilla's Cathedral is the third largest in the world and the construction of it began sometime around 1400. It was fascinating. This one blew me away. The organ has 6700 pipes.

views from the top

Looking up at the cathedral through the orange trees - the trees seemingly lined every street of the city. Unfortunately, a forbidden fruit for the oranges were apparently quite sour.

The cathedral at night.

The Plaza de Espana. A half circle of buildings surrounded by a moat. We didn't go in, but from what I understand, the buildings are used mainly for government functions. What I do know, is the Plaza was lined with very comfortable looking benches that would be ideal for an afternoon siesta.

Okay, maybe we kind of went inside ... a view looking out.

The inside of a Sevilla bar. Hanging from the ceiling, you see the legs of pigs - jamon. Nearly every bar in Sevilla had jamon hanging from the ceiling - hooves and all. Jamon is served very thinly sliced either by itself or on bread. Good, but extremely expensive - a small tapa (four slicesish) would be €2 or €3. In bulk, jamon sells for €60 - €70 per kilogram. After being slaughtered, the legs are let to dry for about two weeks - then, comes anywhere from nine months to two years of curing. In fairness, I should let you know I didn't learn this all from my conversations with the Spainish barmen - remember, I don't speak Spainish. Wikipedia.org provides more than you'd ever want to know about jamon - check out the article here.

Guadalquivir river running through Sevilla

The Torre del Oro (Gold Tower) in Sevilla. Situated on the banks of the river, it provided protection from enemy ships trying to head upstream ... constructed sometime in the 12th century.

Brian and I on our Sevici bikes - we were flying, I'm not sure how Cat was able to get a shot of us (sarcasm, notice the kickstands).

brian, myself, cat, and cat's friend nancy drinking mediocre beers

Our last evening with Cat - we were on our way to catch the 1am bus to Madrid.

We arrived in Madrid shortly after 7am. We were tired, frustrated, and delirious. After mindlessly studying a map of the city for some time, we decided to leave the bus station (note: we weren't entirely sure what bus station we were at). We really had no clue where we were going. After ten minutes of walking through the cold, dark, area surrounding the bus station, we promptly turned around. Plan B was getting on the Madrid Metro. After boarding a couple wrong trains, we eventually made our way to our destination, Sol.

Straight from Sevilla to the very center of Spain. This stone block is found in the city center Puerta del Sol in Madrid - it marks the radial center of all the Spainish roads - Kilometer Zero.

brian, lost at Kilometer Zero one Madrid morning

Billboard on the top of one of the buildings surrounding the Puerta del Sol - something like the first billboard ever constructed in Madrid ...

Yes! The Iowa Restaurant. In Madrid?!

The Royal Palace of Madrid - the largest palace in Europe with over 2800 rooms. It was nice, but probably not worth my five Euros - equally impressive from the outside where the view was free.

The Madrid Cathedral. Neoclassical design - construction didn't begin until the end of the nineteenth century, stopped completely during the Spanish Civil War, and wasn't completed until 1993.

Plaza Mayor in Madrid

Below I have some pictures of the rarer types of tapas I ate while in Madrid. I think I enjoyed Madrid more than Sevilla - the deciding factor was the tapas. In Madrid, you'd go to a bar, order a beer, and get a plate of tapas - free of charge. Brilliant.

braided lamb intestines

kidneys (from some animal)

Oreja a la Plancha - delicious. Okay, well interesting. If you were a 'food texture' person, you probably wouldn't be able to eat them - they chew exactly as you'd expect oreja a la plancha to chew. Oh, oreja a la plancha are diced pigs ears.

Brian, myself, and our two friends from La Sobebria (Lincoln and Julio). In the week that we spent in Madrid, La Soberia was our nightly watering hole. We became the locals ... from Iowa. Each night, we'd sit in from of Lincoln who was the tapas chef. We'd spend the night drinking Cruzcampo, eating plates of tapas, and having the craic. I told you most bars would serve you a small plate of tapas with a beer - by the weeks end, Lincoln was shoving plates of food to us throughout the entire evening.

settled in edinburgh

2008-02-02T03:04:00.000Z

So, I just got back to my flat from work and my face is numb from the cold. My beard typically protects my face – at least somewhat – from the bitter and biting wind that has become ubiquitous here in Scotland’s capital city.

Wait. Flat? Work? Yes, much has transpired since I last posted from Edinburgh’s NewCityHostel. I had spent much of my time in the past couple weeks scanning Gumtree for job and flat postings. I sent out my CV to many restaurants and hotels outside of Edinburgh - the upside to these jobs is that the employer would provide live-in accommodation. Unfortuantely, many of these employers were also looking for a long - term commitment. This is something I wasn't comfortable with. I want to be able to travel. Also, my parents will be visiting again sometime soon. My thought is I will have more flexibility with a job here in Edinburgh.

Now, about finding accommodation. Not surprisingly, most landlords or current tenants want a long term or short term (at least six month) commitment on a flat. Again, I just wasn't ready to make that sort of a commitment. I like Edinburgh - a beautiful city, full of travelers, with much to offer - arts, social scene, history, proximity to airport, etc - but, three months from now, I might want to head someplace else within the UK.

So, what did I find? In my mind, the best possible option for where I'm at right now.

My job: I'm currently working for two different hospitality staffing agencies. The work should be interesting to say the least - if nothing else, I'll experience something different each time I work. At least for now, it's perfect. I worked tonight, I work tomorrow night, I work Sunday night, and I have shifts scheduled all next week. The priceless advantage is the fact that I'm paid weekly. So, already next Thursday, I'll be paid by two employers. Much needed pay after my extended holiday + deposit on flat + first months rent.

So, the flat: Again, I must say, it's ideal for the situation I'm in. Brian and I are living in a quaint two room, top floor flat. It is quite cozy, to say the least - but, it really is nice. The location is ideal - we're three minutes away from one of the main streets here in Edinburgh. The price is right. Most importantly, we're not tied down to staying here. The owner is trying to sell the flat - so we just have to be here one or two times a week to show the place. Once it sells, it will be at least two months before the sale is finalized and we have to move out. If we want to leave, we just need to give the owner three weeks. It's great to finally have a place to call 'home.' It has literally been five months since I've been able to properly unpack my pack. Plus, we have a fireplace. I mean, you can't beat it.

My face is cold, because as I walked into work tonight at the Edinburgh Sheraton, the first thing I heard was, "You, the beard has to go." I mentioned that it has been five months since I've properly unpacked my pack, I would also venture to guess it's been five months since I've had a properly, clean-shaven, face.

So, for the moment, I'm settled in Edinburgh. cheers.

scene from ayamonte

2008-01-27T18:37:00.000Z

Below, you'll find a quick video clip ... I suppose a video that would be quite unentertaining without a quick introduction from myself.

This little bar ... literally, in an alleyway, off of a side street, and barely marked from the outside ... was the first place Brian and I decided to have a cerveza at in Spain. Our arrival was marked by an unfortunate, but somewhat humorous event. We found out after missing two buses to Sevilla, that when you get on a car ferry, and ride five minutes across the river separating Ayamonte (Spain) from Vila Real de Santo Antonio (Portugal), the time changes.

Our time in between missing these buses was spent drinking the cold, tasteless, and highly carbonated beer that is Cruzcampo, eating tapas, and drinking our first Spanish vino. Towards the end of the evening, we decided we really needed to focus on finding a place to stay. We were directed from the bartender to a hostel which we found to be closed. After this, we embarked on what turned out to be a one hour plus walk around Ayamonte in search of a place to stay. We walked aimlessly, without directions from anyone, and not surprisingly found nothing. We tried to talk with a couple people along the way - but, with us speaking (very) minimal Spanish, and them speaking minimal (or no) English, we had no luck.

Frustrated, and arguing about something, we tried to figure out how to get back towards the city center as our aimless walking had taken us to a residential area of Ayamonte. Soon, we found what would be classified as the area around the city center of Ayamonte. We blindly navigated our way through the alleyways of town - when, somehow unbeknownst to us still, we turned a corner and found our watering hole.

Earlier on in the evening, our watering hole was deserted. Two or three hours later, we walked in to find the below scene. An extremely smoky bar, filled with many drunk local Spanish men - all clapping and listening to traditional Spanish music.

You won't be able to tell from this video, but it really was fascinating. They could all make different clapping sounds for different songs ... and nearly everyone in the bar was taking part at some point in each song. All impromptu - a bunch of locals having a good time out. The man with the jean jacket was doing everything he could to teach me to clap along. While we couldn't communicate with each other (at all), I had a terrific time.

'Edinburgh by Wednesday'

2008-01-26T22:16:00.000Z

'Edinburgh by Wednesday' - I couldn't help but laugh as I read this in my latest post. By Wednesday, I clearly meant Saturday.

Brian and I arrived back in Edinburgh this afternoon. It was only fitting that as we landed on the runway of the Edinburgh Airport, it began to rain. Why wouldn't it? Needless to say, as I walked through the cold, wind, and rain of Edinburgh's streets I began to miss Madrid, Sevilla, Ayamonte, Manta Rota, and the other towns of Southern Portugal and Spain. Though, after an eight day holiday turned into a twenty day holiday, my Current Account at the Allied Irish Bank in Galway probably sighed a sigh of relief to know that I can now begin seriously searching for a employment.

We stayed longer in Madrid because A) We really enjoyed the city B) There was plenty we wanted to see and do and C) We found a cheap ticket leaving today.

So, back in Edinburgh. The plan? I'll look for work and a place to live either here in Edinburgh or a smaller town north of here.

Check back for pictures and more on Madrid.

spain

2008-01-21T16:09:00.000Z

Hello all, from Madrid. I was finally - again after another week - able to pull myself away from Sevilla. Something about Sevilla - be it the tapa bars, the warm weather, my wonderful tour guide and translator, Cat, or the comfort of one the the nicest hostels I've stayed in yet - wouldn't let go of me. But, after seven nights, I was finally off to see my third, and probably last Spanish town - at least for a couple months.

Sevilla is a beautiful and comfortably sized city - approximately 600,000 people inhabit Sevilla. The main portion of the city is comprised of skinny, cobblestone, streets and alleyways and only after seven nights did I begin to have a vague idea of how to get around the city. Brian and I figured out the most entertaining way to see the city of Sevilla - on the seats of our very own Sevici Bicycles.

Speaking of these bicycles, and the ease of alternative transportation they provide, I've decided to do a quick - positives and negatives list of Sevilla ...

So, the optimist that I am, I'll begin with the:

Sevici Bicycles (positive) - The concept behind them is brilliant. All throughout Sevilla, you find computerized bike stands which have bicycles you can rent - some 150,000 of them. You can rent them for 10 minutes, for 30 minutes, for two hours, etc. You pick them up at any stand ... and then drop them off when you've reached your destination (or somewhere within a two or three block radius). They're dirt cheap. For a tourist like myself, I paid €5 for a 7 day pass (residents can get a year long pass for €10) - after this, you could ride a bike for 30 minutes each time for free, an hour was something like €1 ... and it went up from there. What an ideal way to commute to work, class, or the bar and save money - not to mention, mother earth.

Tapas Bars (positive) - Genius, as is the eating and going out lifestyle that they promote. You go to a bar (late, 9:30 at the earliest), have a couple beers, and order a couple plates of tapas - small plates of appetizers - hot or cold ... vegetabley or meaty ... seafood or fried food - this type of eating and drinking, in my opinion, makes for a far more conversation friendly evening. After one bar and a couple plates of food, you move on to the next.

I mentioned 'having a couple beers' while you're out enjoying tapas. To be fair, this brings me to one of Sevilla's negatives ...

Cruzcampo (negative) - Southern Spain's beer = boring, tasteless, and is served far too cold and carbonated. To be fair, I'm coming off of a four month period of consuming the world's greatest beer - Guinness - but, Cruzcampo didn't do a very good job of winning me over. To put this in perspective ... Back in Iowa, I would say my least favorite beer would be Miller Light (Sorry, Rob). But, if you put a Miller Light and a Cruzcampo in front of me at the bar tonight, I would gleefully reach for Miller's Light and boring brew.

But, a positive came from growing tired of drinking Cruzcampo - I switched to ordering orange juices. Only kidding. But, I did develop a taste for tinto de verano ... a popular Spanish drink. Tinto de verano is a refreshing mixture of one part wine, one part Refresco Lemon (essentially sparkling lemonade), and garnished with a lemon. Mom, try one, I reckon you'd love it.

Cigarette smoke = a major negative for Spain. For the last four and a half months, I enjoyed the joys of going to a pub / club / or restaurant and not coming home smelling like an ashtray. Ireland, smoke free (though sometimes in small villages near pub close, the ashtrays would come out ... but, this was kind of cool in a rebellious, teenager hiding smoking from their parents (the Irish police) sort of way). Norway, smoke free. Portugal, smoke free as of January 1st, 2008. Not in Spain - there is no shortage of cigarette smoke in Spain. I knew things were getting out of hand when Brian and I walked into Dunkin Donuts this morning (we were tired and desperate, and it sounded really good - plus, for €1.85 you got a donut and a cup of coffee), and there was a haze of smoke throughout the store.

The old, jolly, bartenders who work behind the bar in small, Spanish watering holes definitely need to be noted as a positive. They all always seem so happy and are quick to make jokes and poke fun at the customers. But, to be true, my inability to understand these bartenders surely needs to be noted as a negative.

I've never really regretted not learning Spanish until this past week. I watch my friend Cat in awe as she converses with the previously mentioned jolly bartenders or any of her other Spanish speaking friends - or, for that mater, as she translated the menu each night for Brian and I. I'm to the point where I miss hearing English ... not so much that I miss the English, but I merely miss being able to converse with the bartender, or hearing a neighboring tables conversation, or reading a menu, advertisement, street sign, etc - you get the picture.

All of the negatives aside, I've very much enjoyed my time here in Spain. I've seen very little of the massive country and hope to travel here again in the future.

Brian and I arrived here in Madrid early this morning at about 7:30am. We had the genius idea to save some money by not booking a place to stay yesterday evening - instead, we caught the 1am bus from Sevilla to Madrid - from here, we'll be able to book a flight straight into Edinburgh. The bus ride was ... well, for lack of a better word, miserable. I expected a 1am bus to be nearly empty - but, the bloody coach was nearly full. Sleep was next to impossible thanks to two, very loud men who decided to talk each others ear off for the greater portion of the bus ride.

Checked in at another hostel tonight ... will tour the city tomorrow ... and hopefully head back 'home' to Edinburgh by Wednesday. mk

For now, I'm 'stuck' in Spain

2008-01-18T11:55:00.000Z

Hello, all. Here is the latest craic. As the title of this post states, I'm currently 'stuck' in Spain - alas, there could be worse places to be beached.

To explain why I'm stranded, I must first explain how I got here.

Brian and I booked our tickets to Spain when we were still on the Emerald Isle. We knew we would be leaving the UK and wanted to get to Espana to visit our friend Cat - we figured the cheapest way was the best ... but hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

We booked a cheap fare from East Midlands in England to Barcelona. As you know if you've been following my journey, we have yet to see Barcelona. When we were in Edinburgh, we decided it would be cheaper for us to fly to Faro - when considering transportation to East Midlands, accommodation along the way, etc - than to catch a bus or train to East Midlands. It was, for about 20 pounds we booked a one way flight to Faro and somehow spent a week in (somewhat) sunny Portugal where the cost of living was significantly cheaper than the UK.

Our flight out of Barcelona was to leave today at 1:40. The next problem was getting from our current location of Sevilla to Barcelona. Having only traveled Ireland when we booked our ticket, we wrongly assumed (ass out of u and me - in this case, more just me) you could hop on a bus to any city for at most 20 quid. Sevilla, as we have come to learn is a 16 hour, 95 Euro, bus ride away from Barcelona. Once we arrived in Barcelona, we'd then only have a ticket to East Midlands - which, as we now know, is a 50 or 60 Pound bus or train ride from our current home of Edinburgh.

What we end up with, is the fact that for now, I'm 'stuck' in Spain. The goal: figure out the quickest, most cost-effective way to get from Sevilla to Edinburgh.

But, for now, I'm off to wander the streets of 17C (65F) Sevilla.

salud, mdk

portugal, looking back

2008-01-16T14:32:00.000Z

As I've said, I'm not entirely sure how I spent one entire week in the Algarve of southern Portugal. Considering the speed at which the week flew by, I clearly enjoyed myself.

From Faro, where I last posted in Portugal, I headed west and south to the town of Albufeira. I must say, during the majority of the week, Brian and I had one thing on our mind ... renting motorbikes and spending two or three days exploring the roads of southern Portugal from two wheels of a motorcycle. Needless to say, we were unsuccessful in our attempts to rent motorbikes. There was no shortage of places to 'hire' (European for rent) motorcycles from, but many of these businesses were closed for the off-season.

While the off-season made our attempts at hiring a motorcycles unsuccessful, it most definitely added to our enjoyment of our time in Portugal. I can only imagine the difference in my perception of the towns we traveled to if it was the middle of the summer. First, the temperature would be unbearably hot. We enjoyed 12C - 15C degree weather during the day and cool, crisp evenings at night. Also, fellow travelers and tourists were few and far between. During high season, the towns we traveled to would have undoubtedly had an entirely different feel ... one that I don't imagine I would have enjoyed nearly as much.

We arrived in Albufeira late one evening early on in the week. Albufeira, as many of the towns in the south, is split into distinctly different sections - old town and new town. Old town Albufeira was very similar to the streets we encountered in Faro - full of skinny, cobblestone streets and alleyways, cafes, hole-in-the-wall bars, and restaurants serving fresh and cheap seafood. When in Faro, we were far enough inland that we didn't see the sea. After getting off the bus in Albufeira, we wandered the streets of town until we found a tunnel under a hotel. We weren't entirely sure, but from our map-reading, we derived the sea was directly on the other side of the tunnel. We were correct ... I was so excited to again see the ocean - albeit through the darkness. The scents, sounds, and view of the vast expanse of darkness before me was indescribably peaceful.

Brian and I had unprecedented luck finding cheap accommodation while in Portugal. Bartering wasn't difficult when checking into a accommodation. With no tourists in town, many places were happy to simply have a room rented. I think the best experience was in Faro - we had checked out a couple residencials in the town center. The owners had asked anything from €30 - €45 a night (for two). (The average price we paid for dorm style hostels in Ireland was in the range of €20/person) We walked into one place, "The Dandy Residencial" and the man told us it would be €30 for the two of us. We told him we would think about it and proceeded to walk around Faro with the hopes of finding something cheaper. As we meandered our way through the narrow streets, we somehow came across the same residencial. From the balcony above the street, we all of a sudden heard the owner shouting, "Okay, two beds, twenty-five Euros." Perfect.

We also had nights when we struggled to find accommodation. On one of our last nights in Portugal, we ended up staying in a small town just up the road from Manta Rota. Manta Rota was small and had no direct bus service to the town near the border of Spain and Portugal where we hoped to spend the night. On our way to the town north of Manta Rota we came across a bar where we decided to have a pint. We've found that the best places to have a beer are the places where the locals congregate - this bar screamed local. We were shocked to go inside and find €0.90 beers, pool tables, and electronic dart boards. Three things we haven't seen since leaving Iowa. We somehow lost track of time and therefore missed our bus. This wasn't the end of the world, we would just spend one more night in Portugal. Spain and Sevilla could wait.

After asking the barmaid in broken Portuguese where the nearest (and we found, only) residencial was, we made our way to our hopeful accommodation. We rang the buzzer outside the door and two or three fretful minutes later, the owner made his way down the street from a neighboring bar. We let him know we needed two beds - he quoted thirty Euros and we asked if we could see the room. Mind you ... all of this is happening with a distinct communication barrier - the owner's English was only slightly better than our very bad Portuguese. After seeing the room, Brian said to the owner, "veinticinco?"

Aparantely, bartering wasn't an option with this Portuguese residencial owner. He proceeded to scream no, immediately turn off the lights leaving us in darkness, and promptly escort us down the dark stairs of the chamber while we quickly pulled thirty Euros out of our wallet.

So, in memory of my time in Ireland, I'll end with this description of my time in Portugal - "It was grand." And now, some pictures ...

view from the plane en route to faro

faro

the tunnel in albufeira leading to the sea

albufeira at night

Plates of tapas at a wonderful tapas bar we found one evening in Albufeira.

Same bar, same table, different night. We got 'stuck' in Albufeira and ended up spending three nights there.

Now, as I've said, we had brilliant luck finding cheap accommodation in Portugal. This view is from the balcony of our best find in Albufeira. We spent one night in a hotel where we had a balcony with a sea-view and a buffet breakfast - all for €25 a piece. In high season, the room we had rents for €150/night. Granted, it was the most we paid for accommodation, but it was worth the splurge for one evening.

strange, three wheeled vehicles - a common sight in portugal

manta rota

A view of a seaside village down the beach from Manta Rota - Cacela - an oasis we couldn't reach. We had read about this small village - described as having many restaurants serving fresh seafood. We could get to Cacela from Manta Rota via a road or, we thought, the beach. We decided a 2km walk along the beach was far more appealing. Unfortunately, after our 2km walk, we realized that Manta Rota was on the other side of a small, inland river that we couldn't cross.

sagres and espresso, a brilliant combination

on the ferry from portugal to spain

sun setting over portugal

Many times during my week in Portugal, I literally became speechless when thinking about where I'm at in my life. I can't describe the contentedness I feel. I have no regrets with that path I'm chosen - really, I can't imagine myself in any other place. I know I've said it, but the more I travel the more distinctly clear it becomes - I'll never again have this opportunity to see the world.

Thanks for continuing to follow me on my journey. I'll leave you with a quote by Mark Twain. All the best, mk.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

Fancy a laugh?

2008-01-16T12:45:00.000Z

So, a girl I know from good ol' Atlantic, Iowa (A Town), is spending a year living and working in New Zealand and Australia. I've been following her blog and I must say the allure of beaches, sun, and surfing in New Zealand may influence my future travel plans. Anyway, I can't help but share one of her most recent posts with you. It definitely made for a good afternoon laugh here in sunny Sevilla ... hopefully it provides you with the same, wherever you may be ...

Follow this link to her post, and the link at the bottom of her post to the video ...

a taste of home

2008-01-15T10:40:00.000Z

Anyone who knows me will know this: I love coffee. I drink coffee often and in excess. Without caffeine, I'm not sure how I would function.

Since leaving home four months ago, proper percolated coffee has been extremely hard (read impossible) to find. In hostels or bed and breakfasts, the free coffee you get is the instant stuff. It was very difficult to get used to, but somehow I developed a taste for it. At restaurants or cafes, the coffee you get comes via an espresso machine - steamed water is forced through pressed coffee grounds producing the drink we know as espresso. If you order a 'coffee' at a restaurant or cafe, you will get what is referred to as an 'Americano' - the espresso mixed with hot water. Interestingly enough, this term 'Americano' comes from the WWII era when American soldiers found the European way of drinking espresso to strong - cafes would mix the espresso with steaming water. Strong, but good - it took me some time, but I began to enjoy the Americano coffee; but, it's not Folgers in my cup.

Anyway, I woke up this morning to go find the complementary coffee here at the Samay Hostel. Tired, I stumbled up the stairs to the common kitchen - I was elated to find a proper, coffee percolator. Ten minutes later ... a taste of home.

safe in spain

2008-01-15T00:21:00.000Z

"It's amazing how time flies."

Cliche, I know. And, to be honest, I really hate to begin this post with such an overused phrase - but I really am shocked at how quickly the last eight days of my life flew by.

Somehow, I spent seven days in the Algarve of southern Portugal. Did I accomplish anything of significance? To be honest, no. I drank extremely cheap beer. I ate cheap, fresh seafood. I stayed in very nice, very moderately priced accommodation (the cheapest I've found since I left home). I wandered the streets of Portuguese towns. I took walks along the beach. I drank very dark, very strong Portuguese coffee. And, most importantly, I had seven days of sunlight. After spending four months in Ireland - and then having traveled to Norway and Edinburgh - some vitamin D from the sun was much needed. Also, I've decided since leaving Portugal that the Algarve is the perfect destination for cost conscious backpackers in the middle of January.

I'm currently in the south of Spain, in Sevilla. I arrived here yesterday evening. The plan was to arrive sooner, but as I've figured out in the last four months plans don't typically hold true with Brian and myself. Sevilla, from what I've gathered, is a wonderful city; to me, it seems to be the quintessential Spanish city - mind you, this comes from very little knowledge of Spain or its cities.

I sat down in my hostel lobby with the intentions of filling you in as to what the last week of my life looked like ... pictures and all. The other travelers who were here didn't allow me to get that far into my post - conversations about Spain, about traveling, about the UK, and, I guess about living ensued.

I'll be back with more soon. Until then, all the best,

mk

it's just Domingo

2008-01-07T14:24:00.000Z

I've been in Portugal for just over 24 hours and have already fallen in love with the country - and, I've yet to leave the quaint little town of Faro.

Faro is everything I would expect it to be. Brian and I have spent half of our time wandering the streets and skinny alleyways which are covered in smooth, light-colored cobblestones. I was excited for the sun, though it has yet to break through the clouds. Nevertheless, even when overcast (and 17 degrees Celsius!), Faro feels far more brighter than Ireland or Edinburgh. I can't wait for the sunlight.

We arrived yesterday - Sunday - to find the streets of Faro essentially deserted; nearly all the shops and cafes we came across were closed. When we saw our friend Cat in Edinburgh, she told us that the Spanish celebrate Christmas on January 6th. My thought was that the Portuguese also celebrate Christmas on this day. When I was ordering beers at a bar/cafe yesterday, I asked the man behind the bar if today was some sort of a holiday. He looked at me somewhat perplexed - in part, maybe because of the language barrier - but, in part I guess also because of the apparent absurdity of my question. "No," the man told me, "it's just Domingo."

I could get used to Domingo in Portugal.

hello ... and goodbye from edinburgh

2008-01-05T23:06:00.000Z

Greetings, all. Happy 2008 to you. It's been some time since I've last sat down to write - so much has happened, I'll do my best to fill you in on the life of me between today and the train ride to Voss when I posted last.

I'm in Edinburgh, Scotland. I've been here since New Years Eve. But, how did I get here? It was quite the journey - filled with both ups and downs.

Norway. Let me see. Norway was cold, dark, and expensive, albeit unbelievably beautiful. I last wrote as Brian and I were making the world's most beautiful train ride to Voss (in the dark!). Brian and I got off the train in Voss with the intentions of heading to the hostel that Lonely Planet touted - it had a sauna, it sounded perfect. After having a dinner of a bacon-wrapped hot dog (amazing), we headed down the road in the direction the lady at the convenience store pointed us. We recognized the hostel from a distance - as Lonely Planted described, it was seated directly on the shore of the lake that Voss surrounds. I could feel the warmth of the sauna. Unfortunately, as we got closer and closer to the hostel, I could see that one thing was wrong ... it was dark.

We arrived at the door of the hostel to find it was closed for a couple weeks for the holiday. If we were in a large city, this wouldn't have been a problem - but, in western Norway, I didn't imagine there were any other hostels open. It ended up working out okay - we were able to check into a reasonably priced hotel. It had been some time since I had slept in a proper bed - I had no complaints.

We left for the Norway in a Nutshell tour the next morning. As per the usual, I was able to make Brian and I about five minutes late. Why? Because I was trying to finish eating one of the greatest continental breakfasts of all time - bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, coffee, pickled herring, caviar (though it was in a tube, it was lovely), crackers, ham, hard-boiled eggs, and more. I wanted to get a proper breakfast in me and also pack up some leftovers for the rest of the day. Either way, we left about ten minutes later than we should have. This resulted in Brian and I running through the slush-covered morning streets of Voss. We frantically arrived at the bus station and found our bus - not 30 seconds to spare.

Looking back, the Norway in a Nutshell tour was the most organized tourist adventure we've embarked on. I also feel it was the only way that Brian and I could have properly experienced Norway with the resources and time we had at our disposal. I also feel that if we hadn't gone on the tour, I would have been very unimpressed with my time in Norway. The tour itself began with a bus ride through the mountains outside of Voss. After about an hour bus trip, we arrived at the end of of the Naeroyfjord (fjord). We later departed for a two hour trip on a fjord cruise ship - it was really amazing. I couldn't help but think how we were in the middle of nowhere - shortly after this, we stopped at a fjord side village to drop off a family who had been into Voss to get groceries. I can't imagine living in such a remote, yet remarkably beautiful area.

The tour ended with a trip on the Flam Railway - one of the steepest railways in world. We began at the town of Flam (which is right on the fjord, and therefore at sealevel) and ended in Myrdal (865 meters above sea level) some 20 kms later.

We caught a train from Myrdal back to Oslo. We decided when booking the ticket the night before we would spend the extra €8 to be upgraded to Comfort Class. This allowed us to have a more spacious seat - but, more importantly, complementary tea and coffee. I reckoned we could make up the price of the ticket by drinking heaps of free coffee and tea. We did. We arrived in Oslo five or six hours later with no accommodation booked. To save money, we decided we would ... sleep at the train station. So, where did Brian and Matt spend the evening of December 29th, 2007? Curled up, hugging their packs in the cold, well-lit, but very reasonably priced Oslo Central Train station. It was an interesting experience that I hope doesn't happen again soon. I probably got about 4 or 5 hours of sleep. Since the start of my travels, I've learned that if I'm tired enough, I can sleep anywhere.

The next day was spent busing, flying, and in the end taxiing to a moderately priced bed and breakfast in Prestwick, Scotland. After a shower, a couple of our first pints in the UK, and take-out Cantonese, I was more than ready to sleep in my own bed. Needless to say, it was infinitely more comfortable than the bench I claimed in Oslo.

After sleeping in a cold train station, I have much more respect and sympathy for those who are homeless and sleep rough in Norway, Ireland, or any other country in the world for that matter. Homelessness is a horrible thing. We can't speak for how someone gets to the point where they have nothing else to resort to other than begging for change, but the fact of the matter is they are there. Human beings sleeping on the streets - it's just wrong. I was leaving Ard Bia one afternoon in December, and it was cold, windy, and blowing sheets of rain. I watched a man staggering up Shop Street - soaking wet with a can of cider in his hand. I would venture to say he didn't ask to reach this point in his life.

As I was watching this man walk up the street, I also watched all kinds of people hurrying up the street with two, three, five shopping bags in their arms. I didn't send Christmas presents home this year, instead, I opted to make a once-off donation to the Simon Community of Galway - the Simon Community provides services to the homeless: emergency shelter, soup kitchens, housing projects, resettlement work, and other accommodation options for people who are homeless or at risk of being homeless. There is so much wrong in this world, but together think of the difference people can make. Enough of that.

Brian and I ultimately ended up in Edinburgh, Scotland, on the night of New Years. We didn't have accommodation booked but planned on staying with a guy we met through couchsurfing. Edinburgh is home to one of the world's largest street parties - over 750,000 people come to Edinburgh for their New Year's Hogmanay Celebration. We realized as we were busing in from Glasgow that it didn't appear we were going to be able to get in contact with our couchsurfing host. His phone seemed to be dead. Well, stay at a hostel you say? Sadly, hostels in Edinburgh had been booked for at least the last three months. We didn't want to let our lack of accommodation plans taint our New Years, so we camped out at a pub which had a stunning view of the Edinburgh Castle. Edinburgh is an unbelievable city to walk through - the city is nearly entirely made up of awe-inspiring buildings. Everywhere you look, you see massive buildings that scream Georgian architecture. Fascinating, really.

Sometime after 2008 rolled in, we decided we would don our packs and roam the streets of Edinburgh. Some hours later, after meeting all sorts of interesting people (most drunk), we realized we needed a place to sleep. Ultimately, we ended up making our way to a hostel on the west end of town. We sat down in the entryway, leaned back against our packs, and fell asleep. Shortly after this, someone arrived back to the hostel and let us inside so we could sleep in the warmth of the hostel reception area. Perfect! But, it gets better. Shortly after falling asleep again, a girl came from one of the dorm rooms and let us know two people had just left for a early flight - we were welcome to have their beds, she let us know. No complaints by us.

A New Years Eve that I don't believe I'll ever forget.

Since 2008 has rolled around, Brian and I have been bumming around Edinburgh getting little things taken care of - Bunac orientation, setting up a bank account, scouting out job opportunities, getting new service for our cell phones, etc. We've been staying with a wonderful girl we met through couchsurfing. Debbi is a student at university here in Edinburgh and has been terrific. The couchsurfing project continues to amaze me - Brian and I have stayed with her three nights and it's as though we're long-time old friends. Couchsurfing presents a brilliant way to travel, meet new people, and get a real feel for the cities you come across. Debbi, thanks for everything.

So, I'm basically caught up until today. As a whole, I so far have enjoyed Scotland. I miss the comfort of Ireland - my friends, my own place (though shared with a massage parlor), my job, and the dimly lit Irish pubs with good Guinness. That being said, I'm excited to see what each day brings. Today, when Brian and I woke up, our plan was to head to Newcastle, England (we're scheduled to fly out of Nottingham, England on the 9th for Barcelona).

We headed to the train station with the not-so-unfamiliar weight of our packs on our back. We arrived to find the cheapest ticket to Newcastle was just about 50 quid. We didn't want to pay this much, so proceeded to head to the bus station. Realization: the world wide web was correct last night in telling us the last bus for Newcastle left at 11:00. We didn't believe it to be true - in Ireland, you could get to any small village ten or twelve times a day. Realization, this isn't Ireland and no more buses were headed to Newcastle - or any place south for that matter. Frustrated, we decided to head to a coffee shop, get online, and see what our options were.

End result?

At 7:30 tomorrow morning, we're flying from the Edinburgh Airport to Faro, Portugal.

now ... some pictures ...

a stop on the oslo - voss train ride

beginning of the fjord cruise

pints in flam

"we are here"

third currency in a week

prestwick, scotland

i loved his mustache and wanted a picture with it.

my friend the security guard

and, a video

Again, happy new year to you all. The last year of my life has been full of firsts and of lasts - of hellos and goodbyes. I've been blessed to experience what I have in the last four months - today marks four months since I first left the US. It has been amazing to say the least - I can't imagine what the next six months will bring. I wish you all the very best in 2008. cheers.

train to voss

2007-12-28T22:31:00.000Z

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

2007-12-27T16:25:00.000Z

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 ...

2007-12-25T12:37:00.000Z

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

2007-12-19T17:18:00.000Z

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

2007-12-15T00:43:00.000Z

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

2007-12-11T19:44:00.000Z

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.

2007-12-05T20:11:00.000Z

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)

2007-12-04T20:50:00.000Z

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

2007-12-02T22:42:00.001Z

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

2007-11-22T23:28:00.000Z

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"

2007-11-21T20:56:00.000Z

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

2007-11-19T12:46:00.000Z

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

2007-11-13T16:14:00.000Z

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.

farewell, brian!

2007-11-12T16:43:00.000Z

Hi, everyone. I just saw off my travel buddy in this year I'm spending abroad. Brian's hours were getting cut back at the Wine Bar where he was working, and he decided he was ready for something new. He was ready to escape the busy streets of Galway.

He has succeeded in doing that, to say the least.

Brian accepted a position to work at the Delphi Lodge, in the beautiful Connemara of Northwest Ireland. Check out the link to find out more about the scenic area where he will be spending the next six weeks. I'm not entirely sure of what he'll be doing (nor, for that matter, is he), but he'll be assisting in the salmon farming that goes on at the Delphi Estate. It won't be easy work, but it is right up Brian's alley. "I'm a farm boy from Iowa who isn't afraid of hard work," is what Brian told the staff at the Delphi Lodge.

He is going to at least give it a week and see how it goes. Best of luck, Brian.

As for me, I'm off to check out a potential apartment that has a room to rent for the next eight weeks. If this doesn't pan out, some friends from the hostel have rented a place near Galway's city centre. They don't have an extra bed, but they do have a couch. Even if I get the couch, I'm moving up in this world from the life of living in a hostel dorm room.

Also, I have pictures on the way from the week spent traveling with my folks. I'm working on descriptions of them but hope to have them posted in the next couple days.

cheers

art gallery

2007-11-11T13:15:00.000Z

I know I continue to write about this, but it continues to amaze me. So, until I get over the relatively small size of this world we inhabit, deal with it!

The owner of Nimmos and Ard Bia also owns an art gallery in Galway, the Ard Bia Gallery. After work on Friday evening, I found myself in a local hotel lounge with coworkers from Nimmos. We were at the hotel as there was a party with local artists and artists who were in town for an exhibition. Stereotypes can be terrible, but they are often times so true. If you picture thirty or so artists partying in a very modern, very chic type lounge, you can hopefully get a feel for the atmosphere I walked in to.

Let's just say I was a little out of my element. Nonetheless, as the evening progressed, I began to become more comfortable with the crowd I was spending my Friday night with. Of course, the pints of Guinness helped with the transition. The one thing the Guinness couldn't do was begin to make me understand the conversations about the pieces of art at the exhibition. I'm not entirely sure where I night went, but before I knew it it was no longer Friday night but early Saturday morning. We had moved from the lounge to the reception and sitting area. Someone must have known someone, because the pints of Guinness and Bulmers cider kept coming - despite the fact that it was hours after last call.

I decided it was time for me to make my way home to my hostel. It was late (or early), I was tired, and still fighting an ear infection. Not surprisingly, it was difficult for me to tear myself away from the party. Because, let's face it, I'm the life of the party - wherever I'm at.

As I was standing to leave, one of the girls said, "Remind me again, what part of the states do you come from?"

"I'm from the Midwest, from Iowa - I graduated from The University of Iowa in Iowa City in May," I let her know (perhaps for the second or third time).

All of a sudden, from across the room, I heard, "Wait, did someone just say Iowa City?"

It turns out one of the girls at the party had studied art the the UI's College of Art and Art History for four years. She graduated in 2006 and moved back to Galway. So, instead of leaving, I ended up having an hour long conversation about her time in Iowa City.

Thousands of miles from home, yet I'm still talking about the Ped Mall, Panchero's, and Quintons. Go figure.

conversation

2007-11-08T15:24:00.001Z

I'm sitting with Brian at his hostel right now. We're researching work for when we move to the UK. Look at us, planning in advance. One thing we're contemplating is chalet work someplace in the Alps. The work would provide accommodation, a weekly wage, but most importantly passes for skiing / snowboarding. Many of these positions require UK visas, which we have. We're only in the beginning phases of looking for this work ... I will keep you posted as to what we find.

I wanted to share with you a conversation I had through Gmail Chat with a friend from home yesterday evening ...

Friend: So, like as soon as you got a job in Ireland you have to pick up shop and go to UK? How are you gonna do that?

Me: No worries man. The GM that hired me knew I'd only be here until Christmas time. It's the hospitality industry, turn over is higher than Telefund.

Friend: Wow dude you're really doing it. Are you gonna come back stateside for the Holidays at all?

Me: Doubtful. Too expensive. The folks were here last week.

Friend: Then when will you return?

Me: No clue man. It's addictive, this traveling. It's so thrilling to know that I carry all of my possessions on my back. I have no connections, anywhere. I'm gaining an education that tuition at The University of Iowa will never provide me. The world is huge guy, it's up to us to explore it. Life is too short not to.

Friend: Wow dude, but you're poor, there is no stability. How are you doing that?

Me: I'm not poor, though. I'm living comfortably in the most expensive country in Europe. Granted, I don't have steak and lobster every night for dinner, but I'm doing okay. Stability is simply a mindset you become comfortable with. I lived with stability for 22 years of my life. I have the rest of my life to be, quote stable. When will I ever be able to see the world as carefree as I'm seeing it now?

Friend: Very True Matthew. Well then you are stable. It sounds really cool. I think I'm going to try an plan a little Europe adventure for after I graduate. I'm going to start the real world 8am to 2am grind in July so I may need an escape beforehand. Will you Still be adventuring in June?

Me: 95% sure I will be. Not sure I'll be in Europe by that time. But, I'll be someplace. You really need to. So many of our peers graduate, and find jobs. This is such an American concept. 95% of the people I meet traveling are taking a gap year in between school and work. Very few of these people are from the states.

Friend: I think I'd like to only go for a few weeks or a month. Years is too long for me

Me: Some is better than none. I have to go. We're having pints for a friend who is leaving for Australia. Seriously consider traveling. Follow my blog. My desire to move was furthered by reading about Brian Tripplet (fellow iowa alum who left home about a year ago). If my blog accomplishes one thing, I want it motivate someone to escape their comfort zone of home, and move away. All the best, cheers, mk

See you on the other side of the world, Wes.

goodbyes

2007-11-08T12:55:00.000Z

I said goodbye to two friends, two ex face2facers yesterday evening. Bec and Toast are off to finish their days of traveling before heading back to Australia. They'll head from Dublin to Geneva, Switzerland. After couchsurfing in Switzerland, they'll head to London, before finally spending some time in Thailand. After this stint of traveling, they're going back to Australia for college.

Bec and Toast chose to spend time traveling the world before going to college. I can't imagine myself at 18 or 19 moving halfway across the world for an extended period of time. Bec and Toast, all the best to you as to finish your travels. It was a pleasure to have met you both (and I just lost the game).

the moment

2007-11-06T22:33:00.000Z

As I write this, I'm sitting in the kitchen of my hostel. I'm here with eight other people who are either living in this hostel or coworkers of someone who lives here. We're enjoying drinks, conversation, and music. I decided I needed to sit down and write.

The eight people I'm with are more or less in the same situation I am. We're traveling. We're meeting new people. We're poor. We're living life. We're working or looking for work. More importantly, we're experiencing what exists outside of the comfortable place we call our home. All of our stories are somewhat different. But, we share as a common bond our desire to fully experience this world we live in.

When describing my situation to people I meet, I often tell them I'm, 'delaying the inevitable.' In a sense, this is true. Most likely, the inevitable is I settle down and get a steady job working forty or more hours a week. This is only the inevitable if I choose this path. It's not difficult to get by in Ireland. It is one god damn expensive country, but I'm doing okay. If I can survive here, I can survive anywhere. Will I eventually settle down? Sure. My family means too much to not eventually move home. As for now, I'm choosing to live my life differently than many of my peers. I wish more people would choose the path I'm taking. If this blog accomplishes one thing, let one person reading it decide that they'll move abroad. Escape their comfort zone.

I'm rambling. I know. Yesterday, I emailed the author of one of the few blogs I check regularly. If you're from Iowa City, there is a good chance you've read about him. Brian Triplett left home just before the beginning of 2007 and spent a year traveling throughout the world. Reading his blog furthered my desire to move abroad. His writings put my blog entries to shame. He ended his reply to my email with this:

"The best advice I can give you is to allow yourself to say yes to every opportunity that comes your way. It's not a vacation, it's an education."

cheers, brian. take care all. mk

360 view

2007-11-04T17:01:00.000Z

My front porch ... aka Quay Street in Galway Ireland. The main drag in Galway is a series of pedestrianized streets that start with Quay (pronounced Key) Street, and then High Street, and then Shop Street. During the day the streets are busy with shoppers, street performers, and the like. Come the evening or, as I'm in Ireland, the early afternoon, the many pubs are filled with young and old enjoying cold, pints of Guinness. After the pubs close, the socializing (read partying) moves to the streets and continues till the early morning.

small world

2007-11-04T14:48:00.000Z

I never cease to be amazed at how small this world we live in is. This fact was apparent again Thursday night as I was waiting tables at Ard Bia.

First, a quick update on the job ... I'm in! I still can't believe how lucky I was to stumble into the opportunity I have. If I wouldn't have met the general manager Wednesday afternoon, I'd still be searching for work. Patrick, the general manager, has been brilliant. When I'm working with Patrick, he does a terrific job of taking me under his wing and continually offering me advice. Waiting tables is completely foreign to me. If this isn't enough, I'm waiting tables in a foreign country - where everything I'm used to is a little bit different. The restaurant is quite small, but my responsibilities are multifaceted. In my role I serve as a host and seat customers, I cork bottles of wine, I bus tables, I take orders, I deliver food, I make coffees, I set tables, I dry wine glasses, I ... and the list goes on.

As for now, I'm looking at each night as a learning experience, and every night seems to go better than the last. I will be spending most of my time working at Nimmos Restaurant & Wine Bar, but I will also occasionally work at Ard Bia. Check out the links.

Anyway, I was working at Ard Bia on Thursday evening. As I was opening a bottle of wine for three ladies, one of them asked me where I was from. "I'm from the States, from Iowa," I let her know (It continues to be unnecessary to mention I'm from the States as it seems all I have to do is open my mouth and my accent is immediately apparent. This always amazes me as I've never thought of myself as having an accent.). This lady laughed and asked where in Iowa I was from. "I grew up about an hour west of Des Moines in Atlantic, but I went to school in Iowa City at The University of Iowa." She then informed me that she received her Masters from the College of Education at Iowa. She was in Galway on business.

What are the chances? If this wasn't enough, she continued with this. "The program I got my Masters in unfortunately no longer exists. I always get phone calls from students at the University asking me for support. I find it hard to give back the the College when they dropped my program." I chuckled and let her know that until about three months ago I was with that group of students calling and asking for her support.

A friend from Iowa made it to Galway to visit this weekend. An ex-Telefunder herself, Cat Gaa made the trip from Spain to visit Brian and I. As I was showing Cat around Galway on Saturday, I realized that from a tourist's perspective, there isn't much to see or do in Galway. It is a lovely city that in many ways reminds me of Iowa City - yet it is void of the history that encompasses so many Irish towns and villages. Either way, I think Cat enjoyed her brief stint in Ireland. Cat is spending a year in Seville, Spain, teaching English to high school students and teachers - follow Cat on her adventure here.

(hopefully) one point, iowa.

2007-11-01T15:15:00.000Z

A quick update on the job search:

I spent the greater part of yesterday walking around Galway handing out CVs to stores who were hiring (CVs being the European equivalent of a resume). I wasn't expecting anyone to immediately sit me down for an interview. Nonetheless, after four or five hours of walking around the city looking for help wanted signs, I was beginning to become tired and a bit frustrated that the perfect opportunity hadn't jumped out at me. As I was just getting ready to head back to my hostel, I saw a restaurant which had a sign that read, "Supervisor wanted at Ard Bia!" I didn't imagine there would be any chance I could land a job supervising a wait staff considering my limited (zero) experience waiting tables. But, I decided I'd at least drop of my CV.

So much of finding a job by dropping in to stores or restaurants is simple luck. Yesterday afternoon at Ard Bia, luck seemed to be in my favor.

As I walked in, I noticed a man at the computer entering in an order. With a smile on my face, I asked him if they were by chance hiring. He looked back, smiled, and said they might be. He then asked me to have a seat and said he would be with me in a moment. Score. This was farther than I had gotten in the previous four or five hours. Patrick came in, introduced himself, and asked what my story was.

"I just arrived in Galway yesterday, and I'm looking for work. I'm from the states, from Iowa, and am spending a year abroad," I let him know. "Iowa?" Patrick asked. "That's wonderful. I have a great friend who lives in Des Moines."

Thank you Iowa. After ten or so minutes of conversation, much of this being about the Midwest, Patrick decided he would like to have me work a trial shift. I worked last night at Nimmos - another restaurant he manages. It went as well as I could have hoped, especially considering my limited experience waiting tables. I'm not entirely sure if I've landed the job, but I'm working again tonight at Ard Bia, the other restaurant he manages.

back in galway

2007-10-30T13:57:00.000Z

I'm back in Galway. I just booked a week in the Barnacles hostel dorm room.

I dropped my parents off at the Shannon Airport at around 11am this morning. We had a fantastic time traveling together for the week. They both seemed to love Ireland. How could you not? The country grows more beautiful each time I travel its precarious highways. They also both loved the Guinness. One of my favorite quotes from the week was from my mother.

As we were nearing the end of a day driving to a new town, we were all becoming a bit stressed. This is bound to happen when you start each day not entirely sure where you will spend the evening. Navigating can be difficult when traveling throughout Ireland as roadsigns are an often uncommon sight. The frustrations we were all feeling was summed up when my mom said, "I'm ready for a pint of Guinness and some Bacon Fries!" (Bacon Fries are delicious, bacon flavored, rice snacks found in many an Irish pub)

As we were preparing to say our goodbyes at the airport, I was having conflicting thoughts on my current situation traveling. A small part of me thought it would be a good feeling to again have some sort of normalcy in my life. A permanent address. A normal job. A closet to put my clothes in. The other part of me was thinking about how free I was (I'm in Galway as I quit my job with face2face, more on this to come). I had all of my possessions on my back. I had a strong urge to book a cheap, last minute ticket with RyanAir and head to some other part of Europe for a couple days. I decided it would be in my best interest (namely, financially) to come to Galway and look for work.

So, as of right now, I'm unemployed. I quit my job with face2face on Sunday afternoon. I was nearly certain this would happen sooner or later. Even with all of the advantages of the job, I decided it was time to move on. Thursday is November first - this marks the halfway point of my time in Ireland. I'm ready to have a job that doesn't require 60 hours of my time each week. I have the rest of my life to put in those kind of hours at a job. Where will I be working? I'm not entirely sure as of right now. Hopefully, I'll be able to give you more of an idea by the end of this week.

Speaking of work, I've decided we do to much of it in America. From my understanding, when most people begin full time work in the states, you get two weeks vacation. In Ireland, with most full time positions, you're given at least five weeks off. There are also eight bank holidays in Ireland. When the banks take a holiday, so does the rest of the country. This essentially means that in addition to your five weeks of vacation, you also get eight long weekends. As a man we met at a pub in Westport Quay said, "Work to live, don't live to work."

updates

2007-10-24T09:26:00.000+01:00

Hello from Portmagee, Ireland. Portmagee is just off the Ring of Kerry in County Kerry. Today is Wednesday. I've been lucky enough to travel since last Saturday with my folks. It has been great to spend time with them (and, the B&Bs have been much more comfortable than the hostels!). I quickly influenced their travel plans. By this, I mean we haven't really had our days planned out until we get into our rental car in the morning.

I've been our designated driver for the left side of the road. I'm not sure if I've posted about this until now, but for the last three weeks I worked with face2face, I was the driver for my team. I'm amazed at how quickly I've become acclimated to driving on the right side of the car on the left side of the road.

I met my parents north of Dublin in Howth Saturday morning. It had been (according to my Dad's count) about 51 days since we last said goodbye in the parking lot of Jordan Creek Mall. I'm sure we'd gone this long without seeing each other before, but it was great to get off DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) in Howth and see their smiling faces.

I'll fill you in later on more from our travels. This morning, we're going on a ninety minute boat ride to the Skellig Islands.

back in courtown

2007-10-18T20:32:00.000+01:00

Greetings, friends. Believe it or not, I'm back in the same internet cafe in Courtown that I was 11 days ago when I posted on the 8th of this month. So much has happened between now and then - my apologies for not having posted since then. I also, unfortunately, haven't done any writing to keep you up to date with my adventures.

I spent the last two weeks working towns in the area around Dundalk. The team I was transferred to was wonderful. I was sad to see them go today as I dropped them off in the streets of Dublin. My old team leader (Danny) and his girlfriend (Bec) decided they were ready to be done with face2face. Bec is from Australia and will be heading home within the next couple weeks. Danny is from Galway and is heading that way to work for a couple months before moving to Australia with Bec. They were heaps of fun to work and travel with for two weeks.

The three of us and Brian (who also moved to Galway by the way to find different work) spent last Saturday driving to the Giant's Causeway (I don't have time to describe the Causeway in its entirety, so check out this link!). The drive through Belfast and along the Causeway Coastal Route was spectacular. By far some of the most breathtaking coastline I've seen in Ireland. I'd love to post pictures, however Brian and I didn't mind the crashing swells at the Causeway. As I was turning around to take a picture, a giant wave soaked my jeans and thus, my camera.

Last Sunday, Brian and I hiked a slieve (Irish word for mountain) that was just outside of my place in Carlingford. We started late and didn't reach the modest 581 meter summit until nearly dusk. We ended up making our way back to our car in the dark - the only thing that saved us from sleeping on the side of the mountain was finding a stream that we knew led to our car. Only would Brian and I find ourselves in this scenario.

I will work tomorrow and then head to Dublin to meet my folks. They arrived in Dublin this morning. I will be traveling with them all next week. When they leave, I'll either come back to face2face for a couple weeks or head to Galway to find a different job.

Only time will tell.

I'll do my best to try and write more in the next week. I hope you are all well.

All the best,

mdk

courtown

2007-10-08T13:08:00.001+01:00

Hello all, I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Gorey, which is 5kms away from Courtown, which is where I will be living for the next two weeks.

I left my hostel yesterday and had a chance to look around Wexford in the daylight. I decided I was going to hike outside of town to the Wexford Wildfoul Reserve - this was about 5 or 6kms outside of Wexford. As I was making this walk, I began to question my decision to hike to a place where 1,000s of birds go to spend the winter. As I was walking down the country road that led to the reserve, I passed cottages which had names like, 'Raven Ridge' and 'Raven Lodge.' Some of you reading this may realize that I'm not a huge bird fan - in fact, I'm somewhat freaked out by the creatures and their potentially deadly beaks.

I was pleasantly surprised. The bird reserve is right next to Wexford Harbor and actually sits 4 or 5 feet below sea level. It was a cool, cloudy, day and the reserve was nearly empty with the exception of myself, a couple small groups of visitors, and thousands of birds. Thousands of Greenland White Fronted Geese - nearly a third of the world's population - fly to Wexford to spend the winter. I was shocked to read that an occasional Canadian goose somehow ends up at the Reserve as well. It was a peaceful place to spend the afternoon.

I walked from the Reserve to the highway which leads into Courtown. Within five minutes of putting my thumb out, I was picked up and given a lift. Courtown is a nice enough little village - during summer months, Dubliners make the drive to spend weekends here. Yesterday afternoon, the town was nearly empty. I spent the afternoon in a cozy pub and enjoyed a lunch of a traditional loin of Irish bacon, potatoes, and cabbage - and, of course, a Guinesss.

I met my team late yesterday evening and we attempted to check into our accommodation. For whatever reason, the manager of the holiday home complex had no record of our reservation. After an hour of phone calls, we were able to check in and spend the night. The only stipulation was that we get the problem ironed out in the morning. This headache lasted until about 11am today. I wasn't worried, I only imagined this would potentially shorten my workday. I was elated when I found out that we wouldn't be working today - and, shortly thereafter, frustrated when I found out we would be making today up on Saturday.

This, is when we decided we would drive to Gorey to eat and get some groceries. As I was writing this blog post, not five minutes ago, my team leader received a phone call from his boss. It turns out that a fundraiser on the team in Dundalk (my friend Lyndon from last week) decided he no longer wished to fundraise for face2face. Guess who now gets to hop a bus and head to Dundalk?

Yes, one Matthew Kyhnn.

cheers, and I'll keep you updated,

mk

finally, more pictures

2007-10-06T20:24:00.001+01:00

enjoy.

First shots of Jameson in Ireland at a Doolin pub.

Hostel in Doolin, above. Allie River, below.

beginning of our cliffs of moher hike

If you turn your head sideways, you can see me from a distance. This shot somewhat illustrates how massive the cliffs were.

Celebratory pints, post-hike. Below, hitching into Ennis.

Kells. House where the Book of Kells was stashed for approximately 600 years.

Mrs. Carpenter, unlocking the house.

Hitching to Loughcrew.

View from the hills of Loughcrew.

Old cemetery in Donegal town.

Datmond, Brian, Ralph, me

Cork (I think)

Enjoying a Jameson before the tour of the distillery

Lastly, a short video clip midway through our hike along the Cliffs of Moher.

take care everyone. mk

(briefly) on the road again

2007-10-06T19:15:00.000+01:00

Good evening, everyone. As I write this, I'm sitting on a bench in Wexford, County Wexford. I'm right on the banks of the River Slaney where it empties into Wexford Harbor. After six hours on a Bus Eireann coach, I was ready to relax. I was pleasantly surprised as I opened my laptop to find I had a wireless internet connection.

As I continue to travel throughout Ireland, I realize how extremely difficult it would be to decide on a town to actually live in. Whether I'm taking in a town such as Wexford on a park bench next to old fishing boats, or working one main street of a town with face2face, or simply driving through a town on a bus, I quickly fall in love with each place. I've only been in Wexford for thirty minutes but can already tell I would be happy here for three or four months of my stay in Ireland.

I left Dromineer this morning. I didn't know until I finished work yesterday evening where I would be working for the next two weeks. I am moving to a new team that will be working this Southeast area of Ireland. Our accommodation is actually about 20 kms up the road from Wexford in a town called Courtown Harbor. I will be working with an entirely new roaming team. The people on my team from the last two weeks again went to Galway today. There was yet another roaming party that was being put together for an employee who was leaving face2face. I decided I was not going to attend this going away party for some guy I didn't know. While I enjoy Galway, I was ready for something new. More importantly, I was ready to free myself from face2face for a short weekend. As I've told you, my life from Monday - Friday revolves in some way or another around face2face. I was ready for a break.

My team dropped me off in Nenagh on they way to Galway. It was a refreshing feeling to get out of the car, put my pack on, and realize I didn't have much of a plan. I only knew that I wanted to somehow get to the Wexford area. Six hours later, I've arrived. When I publish this post, I'm going to find my way to the lone hostel in town and hope they have beds available.

Before I went out last night, I was again talking with my friend Lyndon about his love for the Midwest. I had been reading my Lonely Planet Ireland book as I wanted to see what the Wexford area had to offer Matt Kyhnn. Lyndon introduced me to his Lonely Planet United States book. I went straight to the index to check out what Lonely Planet had to say about the Iowa/Iowa City area. It was interesting to read the author's synopsis of Iowa City. The good places to eat: Baldy's, Malsala. Good bars to visit? Not the Summit, not the Airliner, not even Quintons. Nope, Lonely Planet directed visitors of Iowa City to (drum roll) The Foxhead Tavern!

I'm currently reading the Alchemist. It is a brilliant book - you should all read it. Written by Paulo Coelho, it is the story of a boy who travels the world in search of a treasure he has dreamed of. Along the way, he learns to listen to his heart and follow his dreams. It is full of wonderful quotes, and I wanted to share the following with you.

"I don’t live in either my past or my future. I’m interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man. You’ll see that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that the tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race. Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we’re living right now."

With that, I'm going to go find my hostel. It is getting dark and my hands are getting cold.

And, for anyone else who was worried, the trash bags I referenced in my last post did not stay on the streets of Dromineer. On the way home from The Whiskey Still, I picked them up and brought them back to our place. My roommates were shocked that after about two hours, I still hadn't thrown the trash away, as this was my original intention.

mdk

updates

2007-10-01T12:47:00.000+01:00

Hello all. I'm in an internet cafe in Limerick right now. Below, you'll find three blog entries that I've written in the past week. Thanks for continuing to stop by, I'm sorry for the lack of posts recently. I'm writing as often as possible and will do my best to post when I have time and internet available. cheers

monday the 24th, 2007 – dromineer bay, county tipperary

Welcome to face2face fundraising - UIF Telefund part deuce. Really, the similarities between the job I just signed on to and my job of four years in Iowa City are quite amazing. Instead of making warm calls to alumni of The University of Iowa, I’ll be making cold introductions with members of the Irish public – face2face on the streets.

“Hi. My name is Matthew Kyhnn, I’m working with face2face fundraising on behalf of Barnardos. How are you doing today …”

Bernardos is Ireland’s largest children’s charity. Each year, Bernardos works with over 12,000 children, youths, and families in Ireland. Today, one out of ten children in Ireland are living in poverty. These talking points – and many others – were presented in today’s training. Really, without my experience at The UIF, I’d be scared shitless as to what tomorrow will bring.

I trained today with five other people - a guy from Australia, a guy from Dublin, a girl from a town near Dublin, Brian, and Lucas – my new friend from the Czech Republic. Lucas and I were assigned to (drum roll) Limerick. There are five or six roaming teams currently scattered throughout Ireland. We didn’t know where we would be assigned until midway through training. Before our trainer came in with our town assignments, we were talking about Limerick. “The stabbing capital of Ireland,” among other great descriptions was used when discussing the wonderful little city. Only two hours into my trip to Limerick with Lucas did we find out we’d actually be staying 50 km outside of Limerick in Dromineer.

I’m writing this from my new home for two weeks, a holiday home in Dromineer at the Waterside Cottages. I’ve yet to see if there is actually water outside of my cottage, it was dark and raining when I arrived. My roommates? Lucas, Lyndon (from Australia), Ashleen (from some town in the North), and Phil (from Dublin), Team Leader. The holiday home is quite nice. I don’t have my own room, but I’m only sharing with one other person – far better than the average of 8 or 10 in the hostels of the past three weeks. One major downside however is I have no internet access. A part of me wishes I was in a hostel, not sure what tomorrow would entail, or where I would end up tomorrow evening. I enjoyed the unknown. Alas, while I enjoyed this, my Wells Fargo checking account was beginning to have mixed emotions. A paycheck will be grand. Tomorrow, I’ll take to the streets of Nenagh, Ireland.

Day one is completed. A long day one is completed. To be true, it was much more difficult than I expected. In my mind, I continue to draw parallels between this job and Telefund. I guess not surprisingly, the most difficult aspect of the job was actually getting people to stop and talk to me, to hear me out.

Picture: Me, standing on a city sidewalk. I’m wearing jeans and a green jacket which has “Barnardos” clearly written on it. I’m sporting a three ring binder, a Barnados/face2face fundraising name tag, and of course a big smile. I’m basically screaming, “Stop and talk to me, I’d like to sign you up for a monthly donation to one of Ireland’s best known charities.”

Let us just say people aren’t dying to stop and chat. If I relate this to Telefund, instead of the occasional caller ID that says, “University of Iowa,” I picture a phone that doesn’t ring, it rather says, “A student is calling from the University of Iowa, they’d like to ask you for a gift, preferably on the credit card, please pick up.” You can only imagine how many contacts we’d get on a given night.

So, actually getting people to stop and chat ended up being the most challenging aspect of the job. Once they stop, it wasn’t tough for me to present my case for support. While Ireland’s economy has been rapidly improving in the last ten or fifteen years, the gap between the rich and poor is only widening. One out of ten children in this country – nearly 150,000 of them – are currently living in poverty. I’m not asking people for two or three hundred euros. Our goal is to sign people up for at least three euro a week – twelve euros a month. To put this in perspective, I got a cup of coffee on (one of our few) breaks today … €2.30.

The job clearly isn’t for everyone. My friend Lucas threw in the towel and is currently driving back to Dublin. Really, he was presented a good opportunity. He wasn’t originally going to take this face2face job as he hoped to work in a sporting goods store that he had worked at in years past. He comes to Ireland for about three or four months – from now until January – each year. After this, he goes home to the Czech Republic to film/photograph extreme skiing. He basically comes here to work his tail off for four months so he can film for the winter. Anyway, a job in the ski department of this sporting goods store opened up, so he took it. Nice guy. I got his contact info. If I find myself in the Czech Republic, he said I can crash at his place. Apparently, you can get lift tickets for only €8 a day. Not a bad deal.

I’m infinitely more comfortable with the situation – the job, the roommates, the accommodation – than I was yesterday evening. The work will be difficult, but I can tell I’ll enjoy it. It is right up my alley. I love being able to work knowing that I’m positively making a difference in the lives of others. Could I do what I did today for a year straight? Most likely not. But, for now, it presents a perfect opportunity for me – a good wage, free accommodation, and a chance to see more of Ireland.

Sunday night, 11:10pm

“When walking, think right. When driving, think left.” This was the line Brian and I quoted as we traveled Ireland for three weeks. You’d be surprised, simply being a pedestrian in this country requires a fair amount of thought – especially after a few pints. It feels natural to first look left, and then right when crossing a road. However, this would put you in the hospital before to long in Ireland. Even today, I still have to think when crossing a street. Tonight, I got my first experience behind the wheel of a car in Ireland.

At long last, the weekend came. This past week was grueling. My feelings on the job change daily – in truth, they change hourly. I enjoy the job, however the days are extremely long. We’re on the road by 8:30 and on the streets by 10. For two and a half hours straight, I have a big smile on my face and am constantly attempting to get people to stop and talk. You do everything possible to make someone smile, to stop what they’re doing, and give you five or ten minutes of their time. The vast majority of the time, people walk on by. At 12:30, I have a thirty minute break. Come one, I have two and a half more hours of the previously described activity. At half three I have another thirty minute break. I’m then scheduled to be off by six – however, the earliest we’ve got off the streets is 7:00. I’m home by 9 or 10, and proceed to eat, sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

Needless to say, the weekend was well received. I finally had the chance on Saturday morning to see Dromineer in the daylight. It really is a beautiful little village right on the shores of a big lake, Lough Derg. I went on a five or six mile run on the Lough Derg trail, a path that takes you along country roads, farm fields, and the shores of Lough Derg. The run was remarkable. I ran two or three miles out and then turned around to head home. As I was running back, it began to rain. It was a warm, steady, and beautiful rain. I felt incredible when I was finished. It allowed me some alone time and a chance to reflect on the week.

Yesterday evening, I went with the roommates to Galway for a roaming party. Three or four other roaming teams from throughout the country met up at a pub. It was Telefund all over again. Strangely, I was on the outside of the group looking in. A new-hire at Telefund, going on a Telefund bar crawl (before those were outlawed).

I missed Iowa City on Friday night. We had just finished working in Limerick and stopped in a pub to have a pint before heading home. As we were sitting at the bar, I noticed a PGA golf game. I was surprised to see this, as you rarely find video games in the pubs in Ireland. Drinking and going to the pubs seems to be much more of a social experience, a chance to connect with friends. As I saw this machine I couldn’t help but think of Silverstrike Bowling. My roommate Lyndon was in the states for a couple weeks a month or so ago and spent a lot of time in the Midwest – Minnesota, Wisconsin (As an aside, he has nothing but amazing things to say about the Midwest – his favorite part of the states, by far. It is fascinating to hear him rave about his time there). I asked him if he was familiar with the game, he wasn’t. Either way, I was presented with an opportunity to explain the game and the drinking/socializing that comes with playing. I immediately wanted to be in Iowa City, at Joe’s, playing Silverstrike, and washing down a pickled egg with a pint of PBR.

My spirits have stayed pretty high so far. I’ve done okay being away from friends, from family. I guess I’m not surprised. I was, though, feeling a little down on Thursday evening when we got home. I was tired, questioning the job, and well, feeling blue. I told the roommates I was going to take out the trash. I was under the impression the trash bins were near the entrance to our complex. As I reached the street, I had yet to find the trash bins. I decided I would leave the trash behind and walk down to check out the lake (at this point, I wasn’t entirely sure a lake even existed. I found (what would later be known as) Lough Derg. It was a lovely evening – nearly full moon, stars in the sky, and the view of the lake was fantastically peaceful. As I was heading home, I noticed in the distance the familiar, lighted, Guinness sign that decorates the outside of so many Irish pubs.

I decided it’d be wrong not to have a pint at, “The Whiskey Still.” I entered the pub, sat at the bar, and ordered a pint of Guinness. I introduced myself to two middle aged women (who I later found out were twins) who were directly to my left. They were from Newcastle, England, and were in Dromineer for this weekend’s “Dromineer Literary Festival.” My one pint led to these ladies insisting on buying me two more. Most importantly, we enjoyed an hour long conversation. We talked about my work, their experience with nonprofits, my decisions to travel for a year, American’s outlook on traveling in general, and their love of Dromineer bay. It was great to again meet and connect with fellow travelers – it was exactly what I needed. I left the pub so happy, so touched by meeting two brilliant, kind-hearted sisters, that I was nearly in tears. Why? I’m not really quite sure.

But, friends, it is time for me to retire. Half eight will surely come way to quickly tomorrow morning. Oh, but, my experience behind the wheel in Ireland. Amazing. It was much easier for me to adapt to being on the left side of the road than I anticipated. Driving on the right side of the car … somewhat confusing, especially since I was shifting the five speed with my left hand. Roundabouts are as commonplace in Ireland as four-way stops are in the states – and, they’re brillant. Traffic doesn’t have to stop. Lastly, remember my describing the country roads in Ireland (if not, this is an excuse for you to read my earlier posts), tonight I was navigating them in the dark. Navigating them like a pro, of course.

cheers, mdk

alive

2007-09-28T15:59:00.001+01:00

Hi everyone. I wanted to quick post - really quick - and let you know that I am, in fact alive. I'm just finishing my first week with face2face. This is the first time since my last post that I've been able to sit down at a computer with internet access. I'm on my short break in a shopping mall. My feelings on the face2face job are somewhat mixed, but as for now it is providing income and a place to sleep - all very crucial things!

In training, we were told in not so many words that working for face2face wasn't a job, but a lifestyle. How true this is. I wake up at 8, am on the road to the town that we are working by 8:30, and on the streets fundraising by 10. We are only scheduled to work until 6:00, but the earliest we've finished this week is 7:30. The work is difficult, long, and many times frustrating. To be true, it is rewarding as well.

I'm in Limerick right now and heading back to the streets to raise support for Barnardos. So, until I'm at a computer again, take care.

cheers, mk

work

2007-09-24T00:07:00.001+01:00

My days of roaming are coming to an end - I officially begin work tomorrow morning at 10am. Where I'll be tomorrow night? Still up in the air. Advantages to soon having a 'home.' Personal space. A real shower towel. Income from the job. Disadvantages? The thrill of not knowing where I'll be spending the night until 6 or 7 that evening.

From Cork, Brian and I hitched a ride to Youghal (Pronounced yall). Youghal was a splendid little beachside town. Our hostel should have been named the Beach Haven Hostel as this one was indeed a stones throw away from the beach. We arrived in the dark last night but had a chance to walk around town today. We found an old pub on the edge of town that had closed down - it was for sale. We decided we should purchase the building and bring Clyde's back to life. Any potential investors out there? If I would have walked past a hotel that was hiring and provided accommodation, I would have stayed in Youghall. Alas, I didn't find this hotel, so here I am in Dublin, ready to begin work for face2face tomorrow.

I don't have much else for you. I should be attempting to sleep - early morning tomorrow. I'll leave you with this ...

In a sense, it's the coming back, the return,

which gives meaning to the going forth.

We really don't know where we've been until
we've come back to where we were.
Only, where we were may
not be as it was
because of who we've become,
which, after all, is why we left.

I read this at the hostel in Doolin. It gave me chills. I felt it was so telling, so close to my thoughts and decision to move out of the country for a year - away from friends, away from family, away from the familiar.