Tonight I'm headed off to Wimbledon to try to get a ticket to get into one of the courts for tomorrow's matches. Mom's going to "page" me with the court numbers for my 3 favorite players so I can make an informed decision about which show court I want to get into. And if I don't get a court seat, I'll still pay to get a grounds ticket and make it a marvelous picnic on the lawn with the massive screens and the random posh fans.
I'm just having a minor problem with my packing. Hrmph. Stupid Crazy Creek chair hates me and won't squish into my bag. I guess it's padding is too good for my own good. Everything else fits beautifully. Wish me luck and a rain-free night with my sidewalk camping adventure! I'll take pictures of my fellow line cohorts (if there are any! tee hee).
30 June 2006
29 June 2006
triumph!
I can now turn on my washer to do wash on the first try! Or at least I did last night! YAY! However, now I'm concerned about what appliance is going to have attitude next. Eep!
27 June 2006
Irish American... errr?
Question of the day:
I am now an Irish immigrant. And because of the way the Irish immigrated to the US, that sounds weird having spent my entire education learning about history from a US point of view. But I hold an Immigration Card registering myself as an Irish Immigrant with my picture and stats!
So, if I can't be an Irish American because that sounds funny.... does that mean I'm an American Irish(wo)man? Discuss!
Amusement of the day:
On my way to the immigration office this evening after work I decided that if I was going to sit and wait for someone to ask me what the heck I'm doing in Ireland yet again, I'd get food. And I was passing the chipper which everytime I walk by it it has a massively long line and if I'm with a native Dubliner (or someone who's lived here a few years) they always say how it's their favorite chipper in Dublin.
For once, the line wasn't out the door - so what the heck. I wasn't at all impressed with my first experience with fish and chips (chips amazing; fish yuck) but I figured I'd give this lil' Isle another chance. I got up to the counter and said "cod and chips please" and the server turns to the fryer and grabs both and throws 'em on a piece of paper. Great, dinner is served. Except then he looks up at me and says "wowwwlanddinit?" "Excuse me?" "awwwwwwlonnnnalinit?" "uhhhh - please?" What do you say when you know that you're speaking the same language as someone but you don't have the foggiest notion of what they're actually saying. Here were the possibilities: "Hi, do you like axe murderers?" "Are you free tomorrow night?" "Have you seen my dog Rover?" and any other set of dodgy responses. So, being the brilliant love I am, my response was a hesitant please... yeah - that was smart Yvette - real smart!
I see the salt come out - ok, that's good. Then the vinegar comes out - thank goodness I've taken a huge liking to salt and vinegar on my chips or crisps. And finally my fish and chips are wrapped up in more paper than goes on a small army of spoiled children's Christmas presents. Ooooooohhhhhhhhkay... "salt and vinegar on that?" - that's what he said. Phew - I don't have a date with a random Irish chap I can't understand. And I'm not going to be a story on Unsolved Mysteries: Ireland. Safe this time.
Oh, and the chips were brilliant - the fish - again, not so much.
And Finally, a Story to Make My Mother Sit Down (mom, sit down please):
I have now been told by multiple people that they don't ever think I'm leaving Ireland! I just want to run away screaming when I hear that. First of all, I agreed unofficially to stay for 6 months. Many people know that with the immigration issues, I was only officially here for 3 months unless my work permit got approved. Now that it has, I keep getting e-mails asking "so, how long are you there for?" Honestly, folks, I don't know. I'm really really really enjoying travelling in Europe - but that's the glossy coating over what is my real life - where day in and day out I go to work and have to like what I'm doing and who I'm doing it with. And where I come home and want to have people to talk to. Right now, it's a bland bland life especially in comparison with my shiny Seattle life. So I don't know how long I'm staying - no one does. I'm hoping to know in a few weeks. I know that I am legally allowed to stay and work in Ireland until Dec 24 '06; I know that I am supposed to stay through the end of Oct in Ireland if I go by what I agreed to when I took this position; I know that I will stay till the end of Aug since I'm going to France for a week in mid-Aug and that's easy enough and soon enough.
Will I stay till the end of Oct? Stuart says "uhhh - yes, you're one of us - you'll stay". Jeremy says "oh, you're going to become addicted to it - I can see." Most other people reserve their opinions. So for right now, I'm taking one of my American Irishwoman liberties and pleading the 5th!
Appliance of the Day:
Once again, my washer/dryer/thingie is the appliance of the day. In 2 months (yes, it's been that long) I have yet to get it to turn on to wash on the first try (I think I've got the dry thing down). It's holding my current load of laundry hostage again (ok, so it's been hostage since Sun night, I just ignored it all day yesterday) and although the light indicates "wash" and another light indicates "power" and another light says "door locked" and the dial's set to 90-mins regular colors, the dang thing isn't making a sound. Now, I know very well that it sounds like I live on an airport runway when my washer is running - so this is not good. I wish the manual would aid me, but alas, it is no help and for all I know it's written in Gaelic. Ok - off to battle the washer!
I am now an Irish immigrant. And because of the way the Irish immigrated to the US, that sounds weird having spent my entire education learning about history from a US point of view. But I hold an Immigration Card registering myself as an Irish Immigrant with my picture and stats!
So, if I can't be an Irish American because that sounds funny.... does that mean I'm an American Irish(wo)man? Discuss!
Amusement of the day:
On my way to the immigration office this evening after work I decided that if I was going to sit and wait for someone to ask me what the heck I'm doing in Ireland yet again, I'd get food. And I was passing the chipper which everytime I walk by it it has a massively long line and if I'm with a native Dubliner (or someone who's lived here a few years) they always say how it's their favorite chipper in Dublin.
For once, the line wasn't out the door - so what the heck. I wasn't at all impressed with my first experience with fish and chips (chips amazing; fish yuck) but I figured I'd give this lil' Isle another chance. I got up to the counter and said "cod and chips please" and the server turns to the fryer and grabs both and throws 'em on a piece of paper. Great, dinner is served. Except then he looks up at me and says "wowwwlanddinit?" "Excuse me?" "awwwwwwlonnnnalinit?" "uhhhh - please?" What do you say when you know that you're speaking the same language as someone but you don't have the foggiest notion of what they're actually saying. Here were the possibilities: "Hi, do you like axe murderers?" "Are you free tomorrow night?" "Have you seen my dog Rover?" and any other set of dodgy responses. So, being the brilliant love I am, my response was a hesitant please... yeah - that was smart Yvette - real smart!
I see the salt come out - ok, that's good. Then the vinegar comes out - thank goodness I've taken a huge liking to salt and vinegar on my chips or crisps. And finally my fish and chips are wrapped up in more paper than goes on a small army of spoiled children's Christmas presents. Ooooooohhhhhhhhkay... "salt and vinegar on that?" - that's what he said. Phew - I don't have a date with a random Irish chap I can't understand. And I'm not going to be a story on Unsolved Mysteries: Ireland. Safe this time.
Oh, and the chips were brilliant - the fish - again, not so much.
And Finally, a Story to Make My Mother Sit Down (mom, sit down please):
I have now been told by multiple people that they don't ever think I'm leaving Ireland! I just want to run away screaming when I hear that. First of all, I agreed unofficially to stay for 6 months. Many people know that with the immigration issues, I was only officially here for 3 months unless my work permit got approved. Now that it has, I keep getting e-mails asking "so, how long are you there for?" Honestly, folks, I don't know. I'm really really really enjoying travelling in Europe - but that's the glossy coating over what is my real life - where day in and day out I go to work and have to like what I'm doing and who I'm doing it with. And where I come home and want to have people to talk to. Right now, it's a bland bland life especially in comparison with my shiny Seattle life. So I don't know how long I'm staying - no one does. I'm hoping to know in a few weeks. I know that I am legally allowed to stay and work in Ireland until Dec 24 '06; I know that I am supposed to stay through the end of Oct in Ireland if I go by what I agreed to when I took this position; I know that I will stay till the end of Aug since I'm going to France for a week in mid-Aug and that's easy enough and soon enough.
Will I stay till the end of Oct? Stuart says "uhhh - yes, you're one of us - you'll stay". Jeremy says "oh, you're going to become addicted to it - I can see." Most other people reserve their opinions. So for right now, I'm taking one of my American Irishwoman liberties and pleading the 5th!
Appliance of the Day:
Once again, my washer/dryer/thingie is the appliance of the day. In 2 months (yes, it's been that long) I have yet to get it to turn on to wash on the first try (I think I've got the dry thing down). It's holding my current load of laundry hostage again (ok, so it's been hostage since Sun night, I just ignored it all day yesterday) and although the light indicates "wash" and another light indicates "power" and another light says "door locked" and the dial's set to 90-mins regular colors, the dang thing isn't making a sound. Now, I know very well that it sounds like I live on an airport runway when my washer is running - so this is not good. I wish the manual would aid me, but alas, it is no help and for all I know it's written in Gaelic. Ok - off to battle the washer!
25 June 2006
Drive on the Left, Don't Make Boats that Sink, Wear Sunscreen and Climb on Rocks - Northern Ireland
Hello friends, family and random web-surfers! I'm still alive and finally remembered that I haven't told my tales of Belfast and the Antrim Coast in Northern Ireland. So here goes - after a weekend of relaxing after my whirlwind travels in my happy lil' apartment in Dublin and a Friday night doing the Irish pub crawl, I feel revitalized and I remember all the tantalizing details.......
So, as you can tell from previous posts, I was very apprehensive about driving in Ireland / Northern Ireland due to this "wrong side of the road" deal. But I was determined to do it since everyone mentioned that the Northern Coast is hard to get around via bus and public transportation and it gets pricey quick. Plus, Amy was visiting for this trip so I had a great navigator; and my Aunt Bonnie had given me an atlas of Ireland which thankfully also contained Northern Ireland for my birthday so I felt ready to go! We got to the rental car agency bright and early Wed morning to find that we were getting a compact 4 door car (whose tail you see in the photo next to me): a bright red Nissan Micra with a spedometer and odometer in kms and the gear shift on the "wrong side" but the pedals on the "right side". It was parallel parked in the lot, but I was a silly American and asked the lovely Irish bloke working the counter to pull it out so my first experience in the car wasn't bumping into another car trying to unpark the dang thing. And we hit the road.
We thought we were lost in Dublin - but after going off any map we had trying to find N1 (or M1) or any route to the airport since I knew that was off of N1, we finally found the little plane marked signs. I had been convinced we were going south rather than north and that we'd be stuck in Dublin all day. The drive was then uneventful until Belfast where I think I made every bad turn possible - but which Amy saved me from getting lost when we finally spotted our hotel. 3 hours later, and we were there.
We got our room and set out to orient around Belfast. That first day we just walked to the city centre and then decided to walk ourselves by the murals on Falls Road which depict the political and social leanings of many of the people and struggles in Belfast. It wasn't at all odd or scary or anything that most people would think. Our little tour book gave some decent explanations and we walked a few miles checking out the landmarks (including a chipper which Clinton made famous by shaking hands out side of it with some IRA political figure). Both of us were amazed by the anti-Bush murals and the pro-Palestinian murals. The other ones of the recent struggle that has been so publicized in the states were also rather interesting since they were real - covered in grafitti and oh-so-emotional.
We headed back to the city via bus and decided that since like in the Republic of Ireland, everything closes at 6pm, we'd act like the locals - when in Belfast, act like a Belfastian (or something) - and go to a pub or two for the rest of our evening. We hit up White's Tavern first which the friendly gentleman at the tourist information center had recommended highly to us. It was great.
We then went to the "most famous" pub in Belfast - rumored to be the oldest (which we later learned was untrue) - the Crown Liquor Saloon. It's an old men's only saloon with mirrored windows on the outside and cosies with bells for ordering on the inside where you crawl in and have the option of closing the little door for privacy. We had a few pints before giving up our corner nook where we'd sprawled to head off to another pub closer to our hotel - we were heading towards home. After another Irish Coffee for Amy and a Stella for me, we were done for the night and went back to the hotel to plan our next day in Belfast.
We got up and headed out to catch a bus tour of Belfast and the surrounding area offered by a local youth hostel. We found out that our book had the wrong times for it, so while waiting we headed to Queen's University to hang out in the botanic gardens and see the rose garden.
Then we hopped on the bus to have our tour guide give us a great history of the struggles in Belfast, the beauties of Belfast and an awful lot of talk about the Titanic. Yes, the Titanic. The city of Belfast is apparently famous for making boats - the most famous being the Titanic. "They didn't sink it, they made it. The iceberg sank it." I could not get over my hysteria at the stories they told. One great little excerpt from Lonely Planet Ireland about Belfast's enthrallment with the Titanic was pointed out to us later in our trip when we were staying in our Ballycastle hotel by a hysterical German man:
Our driver gave us a very interesting take on the Belfast political and religious tension both as it was and how it is now - he was great in that he didn't seem to color it from my perspective at all with his own opinions. We also got to go to Belfast Castle, to some random buildings, to see the murals again and to cross the border between zones a few times.
Having seen some interesting statues and sights from our bus: a leaning clock tower, a Big Fish, the cranes used in making the Titanic: Samson & Goliath, and a beautiful hope statue, we wandered to see those before figuring out what to do for the evening.
We headed off to grab a quick bite to eat before joining up with a pub tour of Belfast for the evening where we stopped at 6 historical or interesting pubs in Belfast and had drinks at half of them. Crown Saloon, White's Tavern (both again), McHugh's, Bittle's, Kelly's and one other I can't find in my photos. We ended at McHugh's and having bonded with our fellow pub tour crawlers, we stayed there for quite a while drinking and laughing: it was an American Air Force gentleman stationed in Greece, 3 Norwegians on vacation, a random Brit and a Scottish Stag Party that left us with no end to our laughter the entire time. We got drunk being fed drinks by our newfound friends - and at the end of the evening I found the bathroom with it's Ladies ("seats down") sign on the door and not for the reason I would've liked. I give you this gory bit of detail because when I returned downstairs to our merry band, I asked Amy if we could head back to the hotel where I continued to be violently ill until 7am in the morning and sleeping on the bathroom floor miserable and unable to hold down water. Not only had I gotten myself drunk, I found out via the course of the evening after there was no chance that there was anymore alcohol in my system that I was utterly dehydrated and burnt to a new shade of red that would make tomato(e)s envious.
After an hour of sleep, I woke up when we were supposed to check out and drive to Ballycastle to our next destination - the Antrim Coast. I wasn't sure I could get out of bed, but I managed. And we proceded up to our hostel in Belfast. I was drinking water - but that was it - the world was green with my dehydration and I couldn't get enough fluids into my body. Before stopping at our hostel, we decided that we'd test Yvette's going power (it was vacation and it was gorgeous) so I put on full skin covering (long sleeves in 80 degrees aren't fun, but they were necessary) and we started going from picturesque spot to picturesque spot.
We climbed illegally down to a castle ruins, stopped at the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge which Amy crossed (I was too dizzy to handle that one with my fear of heights) and went scrambling over some rocks before I was too exhausted to continue and we went to find our hostel. By the time we reached the hostel at 5pm I thought I might die (or need to go to the hospital) as the lovely hostel keeper greeted me literally with the first words coming out of her mouth being "Love, you look horrible." Amy and Siobhan, our hostess, got me settled into our hostel room which Siobhan was nice enough to give us a private eventhough that's not what we'd booked since I looked like death itself and I promptly passed out at 5:30pm and woke up for 15 mins in the middle of the night for a rehydration session before promptly falling back to sleep till 10am. Yes, I needed that - I was human the next morning. Thankfully, this didn't mean Amy got stuck in the hostel as she went out with the random other people staying in the hostel to hear some traditional Irish music at a local pub.
The next day, being a new person, we went to crawl and climb all over the Giant's Causeway which is this gigantuan basalt rock formation formed by the rapidly cooling volcanic rock, basalt, being dropped into water. It forms geometric towers of rock that look incredibly unnatural along the coast and in this one location, there's so much of it that it looks like only giants could've made it (thus the name). We then headed to another castle's ruins to see more coast and finally to the beach for a nice flop in the sand. We ended our day on the Antrim Coast with dinner and then I figured out our route home.
Driving back to Dublin, we decided to take the Eastern Coast scenic road that's windy windy windy (both curvey and full of wind gusts). We also took a detour to see Glen Arriff with it's waterfalls on a 4km hike (yes, I was obviously nearly human - although still tired). The drive was just as spectacular as anything we'd seen and I was thrilled beyond belief to be driving right on the edge of these coastal cliffs through quaint towns and gorgeous farms and countryside. We didn't get lost again even entering Dublin and that was the trip.
I'm human, and my coworkers claim that I should never again be allowed to travel since I seem to either get massively ill or detained at the border. But this coming weekend I'm going on another adventure where all I know is that I'm flying el-cheapo to London with only a backpack; camping outside the grounds to Wimbledon in the line to the grounds in order to try to get one of the 500 court tickets or 6000 ground tickets they reserve for the day-of sales; and then hopefully making ti back up to the airport outside of London to stay in a hotel before returning to Dublin on Sunday. Who knows what'll happen - who knows if I'll get in, or what people I'll meet in the line or if it'll rain??? But I've got my sleeping bag, backpack, flashlight, clothes and Crazy Creek Chair so it'll be "a story". And at least this time I don't have to fear reentering the country...... because..... I was APPROVED for my work permit to stay in Ireland officially!!! So I'm here homesick or not - until I decide to flap my wings and return to the states. But before I do that, I'm going to WImbledon (at least to camp), to Galway, to France (the trip's all reserved) and whereever else I get the whim to go before I turn into a bird and return to Seattle.
And if you're still curious about more photos of our adventures in Northern Ireland, find them in my Northern Ireland Flickr Set.
So, as you can tell from previous posts, I was very apprehensive about driving in Ireland / Northern Ireland due to this "wrong side of the road" deal. But I was determined to do it since everyone mentioned that the Northern Coast is hard to get around via bus and public transportation and it gets pricey quick. Plus, Amy was visiting for this trip so I had a great navigator; and my Aunt Bonnie had given me an atlas of Ireland which thankfully also contained Northern Ireland for my birthday so I felt ready to go! We got to the rental car agency bright and early Wed morning to find that we were getting a compact 4 door car (whose tail you see in the photo next to me): a bright red Nissan Micra with a spedometer and odometer in kms and the gear shift on the "wrong side" but the pedals on the "right side". It was parallel parked in the lot, but I was a silly American and asked the lovely Irish bloke working the counter to pull it out so my first experience in the car wasn't bumping into another car trying to unpark the dang thing. And we hit the road.
We thought we were lost in Dublin - but after going off any map we had trying to find N1 (or M1) or any route to the airport since I knew that was off of N1, we finally found the little plane marked signs. I had been convinced we were going south rather than north and that we'd be stuck in Dublin all day. The drive was then uneventful until Belfast where I think I made every bad turn possible - but which Amy saved me from getting lost when we finally spotted our hotel. 3 hours later, and we were there.
We got our room and set out to orient around Belfast. That first day we just walked to the city centre and then decided to walk ourselves by the murals on Falls Road which depict the political and social leanings of many of the people and struggles in Belfast. It wasn't at all odd or scary or anything that most people would think. Our little tour book gave some decent explanations and we walked a few miles checking out the landmarks (including a chipper which Clinton made famous by shaking hands out side of it with some IRA political figure). Both of us were amazed by the anti-Bush murals and the pro-Palestinian murals. The other ones of the recent struggle that has been so publicized in the states were also rather interesting since they were real - covered in grafitti and oh-so-emotional.
We headed back to the city via bus and decided that since like in the Republic of Ireland, everything closes at 6pm, we'd act like the locals - when in Belfast, act like a Belfastian (or something) - and go to a pub or two for the rest of our evening. We hit up White's Tavern first which the friendly gentleman at the tourist information center had recommended highly to us. It was great.
We then went to the "most famous" pub in Belfast - rumored to be the oldest (which we later learned was untrue) - the Crown Liquor Saloon. It's an old men's only saloon with mirrored windows on the outside and cosies with bells for ordering on the inside where you crawl in and have the option of closing the little door for privacy. We had a few pints before giving up our corner nook where we'd sprawled to head off to another pub closer to our hotel - we were heading towards home. After another Irish Coffee for Amy and a Stella for me, we were done for the night and went back to the hotel to plan our next day in Belfast.
We got up and headed out to catch a bus tour of Belfast and the surrounding area offered by a local youth hostel. We found out that our book had the wrong times for it, so while waiting we headed to Queen's University to hang out in the botanic gardens and see the rose garden.
Then we hopped on the bus to have our tour guide give us a great history of the struggles in Belfast, the beauties of Belfast and an awful lot of talk about the Titanic. Yes, the Titanic. The city of Belfast is apparently famous for making boats - the most famous being the Titanic. "They didn't sink it, they made it. The iceberg sank it." I could not get over my hysteria at the stories they told. One great little excerpt from Lonely Planet Ireland about Belfast's enthrallment with the Titanic was pointed out to us later in our trip when we were staying in our Ballycastle hotel by a hysterical German man:
The Iceberg Cometh
Will the city that launched the Titanic become the city that lassoed an iceberg? Belfast artist Rita Duffy hit the headlines in 2006 with a plan to tow an iceberg from Arctic waters to Belfast Lough and moor it there as a sort of art installation.
To her, the sinking of the Titanic marked the beginning of Belfast's decline; the iceberg would symbolise all that has sunk Belfast, in particular the sectarian conflict that has blighted the city for decades. She hopes that as the months pass, the gradually melting berg will symbolise the possibility of a thaw in the hardened attitudes on both sides of the sectarian divide, and the melting of the currently frozen peace process.
Our driver gave us a very interesting take on the Belfast political and religious tension both as it was and how it is now - he was great in that he didn't seem to color it from my perspective at all with his own opinions. We also got to go to Belfast Castle, to some random buildings, to see the murals again and to cross the border between zones a few times.
Having seen some interesting statues and sights from our bus: a leaning clock tower, a Big Fish, the cranes used in making the Titanic: Samson & Goliath, and a beautiful hope statue, we wandered to see those before figuring out what to do for the evening.
We headed off to grab a quick bite to eat before joining up with a pub tour of Belfast for the evening where we stopped at 6 historical or interesting pubs in Belfast and had drinks at half of them. Crown Saloon, White's Tavern (both again), McHugh's, Bittle's, Kelly's and one other I can't find in my photos. We ended at McHugh's and having bonded with our fellow pub tour crawlers, we stayed there for quite a while drinking and laughing: it was an American Air Force gentleman stationed in Greece, 3 Norwegians on vacation, a random Brit and a Scottish Stag Party that left us with no end to our laughter the entire time. We got drunk being fed drinks by our newfound friends - and at the end of the evening I found the bathroom with it's Ladies ("seats down") sign on the door and not for the reason I would've liked. I give you this gory bit of detail because when I returned downstairs to our merry band, I asked Amy if we could head back to the hotel where I continued to be violently ill until 7am in the morning and sleeping on the bathroom floor miserable and unable to hold down water. Not only had I gotten myself drunk, I found out via the course of the evening after there was no chance that there was anymore alcohol in my system that I was utterly dehydrated and burnt to a new shade of red that would make tomato(e)s envious.
After an hour of sleep, I woke up when we were supposed to check out and drive to Ballycastle to our next destination - the Antrim Coast. I wasn't sure I could get out of bed, but I managed. And we proceded up to our hostel in Belfast. I was drinking water - but that was it - the world was green with my dehydration and I couldn't get enough fluids into my body. Before stopping at our hostel, we decided that we'd test Yvette's going power (it was vacation and it was gorgeous) so I put on full skin covering (long sleeves in 80 degrees aren't fun, but they were necessary) and we started going from picturesque spot to picturesque spot.
We climbed illegally down to a castle ruins, stopped at the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge which Amy crossed (I was too dizzy to handle that one with my fear of heights) and went scrambling over some rocks before I was too exhausted to continue and we went to find our hostel. By the time we reached the hostel at 5pm I thought I might die (or need to go to the hospital) as the lovely hostel keeper greeted me literally with the first words coming out of her mouth being "Love, you look horrible." Amy and Siobhan, our hostess, got me settled into our hostel room which Siobhan was nice enough to give us a private eventhough that's not what we'd booked since I looked like death itself and I promptly passed out at 5:30pm and woke up for 15 mins in the middle of the night for a rehydration session before promptly falling back to sleep till 10am. Yes, I needed that - I was human the next morning. Thankfully, this didn't mean Amy got stuck in the hostel as she went out with the random other people staying in the hostel to hear some traditional Irish music at a local pub.
The next day, being a new person, we went to crawl and climb all over the Giant's Causeway which is this gigantuan basalt rock formation formed by the rapidly cooling volcanic rock, basalt, being dropped into water. It forms geometric towers of rock that look incredibly unnatural along the coast and in this one location, there's so much of it that it looks like only giants could've made it (thus the name). We then headed to another castle's ruins to see more coast and finally to the beach for a nice flop in the sand. We ended our day on the Antrim Coast with dinner and then I figured out our route home.
Driving back to Dublin, we decided to take the Eastern Coast scenic road that's windy windy windy (both curvey and full of wind gusts). We also took a detour to see Glen Arriff with it's waterfalls on a 4km hike (yes, I was obviously nearly human - although still tired). The drive was just as spectacular as anything we'd seen and I was thrilled beyond belief to be driving right on the edge of these coastal cliffs through quaint towns and gorgeous farms and countryside. We didn't get lost again even entering Dublin and that was the trip.
I'm human, and my coworkers claim that I should never again be allowed to travel since I seem to either get massively ill or detained at the border. But this coming weekend I'm going on another adventure where all I know is that I'm flying el-cheapo to London with only a backpack; camping outside the grounds to Wimbledon in the line to the grounds in order to try to get one of the 500 court tickets or 6000 ground tickets they reserve for the day-of sales; and then hopefully making ti back up to the airport outside of London to stay in a hotel before returning to Dublin on Sunday. Who knows what'll happen - who knows if I'll get in, or what people I'll meet in the line or if it'll rain??? But I've got my sleeping bag, backpack, flashlight, clothes and Crazy Creek Chair so it'll be "a story". And at least this time I don't have to fear reentering the country...... because..... I was APPROVED for my work permit to stay in Ireland officially!!! So I'm here homesick or not - until I decide to flap my wings and return to the states. But before I do that, I'm going to WImbledon (at least to camp), to Galway, to France (the trip's all reserved) and whereever else I get the whim to go before I turn into a bird and return to Seattle.
And if you're still curious about more photos of our adventures in Northern Ireland, find them in my Northern Ireland Flickr Set.
18 June 2006
London on Parade
So, to take a break from chores while I pray that I don't get paged, I figured I'd start with my journey to London from 2 weekends ago.
The basics are that I spent 3 days 4 nights in London wandering, doing touristy things and cultural things, and enjoying the fantastic weather in a fun city. All my pictures from that wacky adventure which I took on my cell phone ('cause my camera still wasn't here) can be found on Flickr.
So I got into London Fri night without problems and made my way to Kings Cross to find my hostel. I was staying in an all-girls dorm (thank god - boys are dodgy). Everything was copisetic, so I slept on my top bunk and the next morning woke up to 80 degrees and sunny for the weather outside. Perfection! I grabbed my London Pass to save myself mega bucks on transportation (3 days of tube transit) and on entrance fees (everywhere I wanted to go for 1/3 of what it would've cost me to buy the individual tickets). Then off I went walking - it was far to beautiful out for me to take the tube!
I was aiming to ramble South of the Thames to the Globe Theater and a few art galleries before crossing over to the Tower of London. However, none of these excursions actually happened when I got sucked into watching the practice parade for the Queen's Birthday. Y'see, I heard the sounds of a marching band - very traditional - when I passed by this massive gate structure. I didn't realize where I was or what was through the gate, but I followed the throngs of people in to see what the ruckus was. There - lo and behold - was a royal guard marching band all decked out and playing great music. And the people lining the street were friendly and let me know that this was the first of three practice parades for when the Queen would celebrate her birthday. It looked more interesting than the changing of the guard when I realized I was in St James Park which leads up to Buckingham Palace so I wandered down the way towards the palace, stopping everytime I band came along and chatting with various guards. I finally ended up standing right in front of Buckingham Palace with another lovely American woman watching the festivities. My three favorite things were (a) the bands which were mounted on massive horses. I was in awe. (b) the guards who stood along the sides of the road that weren't your average police were hysterical. They were in the hottest looking outfits with their fuzzy tall hats and they wore massive backpacks which I soon realized were connected to the phone handsets in their hands! I thought it was too funny - these things were massive and when they walked all regimental they did it with the phones in hand as if they were some gun or sword or something weapon like. I just giggled. And (c) I saw Prince Charles riding his little horse. Apparently the royals normally ride in one of the later practice parades, but for some odd reason he rode with this one. I was so shocked I couldn't take a reasonable picture.
So after a few hours of this I wandered off towards the Globe to see what else I could fit in from my original plan. I skipped the Tate and went straight to the St Pauls Cathedral. I attempted to go to the dome to see the roof, but alas, I hate heights - instead I sat through a 30 min eucharist ceremony just cause I could and my feet needed a break. Then off to the Globe only to find they had a matinee in progress so I couldn't get inside. Instead I bought half price tickets for the next night's performance and wandered off to the Tower of London. But I got side tracked by Vinopolis which is a wine tasting tour / museum which was highly entertaining and a very refreshing stop (also free on my London Pass - whoda thunk?)
Finally, I headed North back across the Thames to Regent's Park (skipping dinner - I was too late for that) to catch the showing of Taming of the Shrew in the Shakespeare in the Park series I'd gotten tickets for. It was absolutely beautiful out with the sun setting as the play progressed and the light breeze and fairy lights all around the theater. It was marvelously comfortable and they even ended up having a bbq being served at intermission so missing dinner wasn't traumatic when I grabbed a sausage and glass of wine for dinner. I fell in love with the theater then sitting in the sunset watching a hysterical production with my glass of wine in hand - it was so enjoyable.
Sunday I decided to catch up with some of the things I'd planned on doing the day before. So I headed straight for the Tower of London in the morning, found out that the Beefeater Tour I wanted to take was on hold for 2 hrs while all the yeowman went to mass so I went to mass too - what the hey! It was a beautiful ceremony and very very formal. Then I went and saw the Crown Jewels (wow wow wow) and finally caught my Beefeater tour which was my favorite touristy thing! Then I decided to head over to Kennsington Palace by way of Notting Hill. After wandering the shops, I stopped for a picnic lunch overlooking the mini lake in the midst of the gardens. Finally, it was time for me to go to the theater again for a showing of Coreolanus (I hadn't heard of it before either) by the Royal Shakespeare Troupe at the Globe. I was going purely for the experience, but I had a great time with another dinner in my seat and wine and good company (cute lil' American boy sitting next to me).
And finally Monday I wandered over to see Big Ben and the Parliment Building. Then it was into Westminster Abbey (wow - that place is miraculous) and then time to do some good ol' shopping in Covington. I did some shopping, some window shopping, and some cafe sitting. Finally I ended up at the theater yet again but this time to experience a London musical: Evita It was the first preview performance and again it was amazing.
And finally I traipsed back to Dublin Tues morning to meet up with Amy. I had 73 pictures on my mobile, a farmer's tan, and I nearly wasn't readmitted to Ireland due to the fact I still don't have my work auth and in my sleepy state nearly didn't explain myself correctly (eep - that would've been disasterous).
The basics are that I spent 3 days 4 nights in London wandering, doing touristy things and cultural things, and enjoying the fantastic weather in a fun city. All my pictures from that wacky adventure which I took on my cell phone ('cause my camera still wasn't here) can be found on Flickr.
So I got into London Fri night without problems and made my way to Kings Cross to find my hostel. I was staying in an all-girls dorm (thank god - boys are dodgy). Everything was copisetic, so I slept on my top bunk and the next morning woke up to 80 degrees and sunny for the weather outside. Perfection! I grabbed my London Pass to save myself mega bucks on transportation (3 days of tube transit) and on entrance fees (everywhere I wanted to go for 1/3 of what it would've cost me to buy the individual tickets). Then off I went walking - it was far to beautiful out for me to take the tube!
I was aiming to ramble South of the Thames to the Globe Theater and a few art galleries before crossing over to the Tower of London. However, none of these excursions actually happened when I got sucked into watching the practice parade for the Queen's Birthday. Y'see, I heard the sounds of a marching band - very traditional - when I passed by this massive gate structure. I didn't realize where I was or what was through the gate, but I followed the throngs of people in to see what the ruckus was. There - lo and behold - was a royal guard marching band all decked out and playing great music. And the people lining the street were friendly and let me know that this was the first of three practice parades for when the Queen would celebrate her birthday. It looked more interesting than the changing of the guard when I realized I was in St James Park which leads up to Buckingham Palace so I wandered down the way towards the palace, stopping everytime I band came along and chatting with various guards. I finally ended up standing right in front of Buckingham Palace with another lovely American woman watching the festivities. My three favorite things were (a) the bands which were mounted on massive horses. I was in awe. (b) the guards who stood along the sides of the road that weren't your average police were hysterical. They were in the hottest looking outfits with their fuzzy tall hats and they wore massive backpacks which I soon realized were connected to the phone handsets in their hands! I thought it was too funny - these things were massive and when they walked all regimental they did it with the phones in hand as if they were some gun or sword or something weapon like. I just giggled. And (c) I saw Prince Charles riding his little horse. Apparently the royals normally ride in one of the later practice parades, but for some odd reason he rode with this one. I was so shocked I couldn't take a reasonable picture.
So after a few hours of this I wandered off towards the Globe to see what else I could fit in from my original plan. I skipped the Tate and went straight to the St Pauls Cathedral. I attempted to go to the dome to see the roof, but alas, I hate heights - instead I sat through a 30 min eucharist ceremony just cause I could and my feet needed a break. Then off to the Globe only to find they had a matinee in progress so I couldn't get inside. Instead I bought half price tickets for the next night's performance and wandered off to the Tower of London. But I got side tracked by Vinopolis which is a wine tasting tour / museum which was highly entertaining and a very refreshing stop (also free on my London Pass - whoda thunk?)
Finally, I headed North back across the Thames to Regent's Park (skipping dinner - I was too late for that) to catch the showing of Taming of the Shrew in the Shakespeare in the Park series I'd gotten tickets for. It was absolutely beautiful out with the sun setting as the play progressed and the light breeze and fairy lights all around the theater. It was marvelously comfortable and they even ended up having a bbq being served at intermission so missing dinner wasn't traumatic when I grabbed a sausage and glass of wine for dinner. I fell in love with the theater then sitting in the sunset watching a hysterical production with my glass of wine in hand - it was so enjoyable.
Sunday I decided to catch up with some of the things I'd planned on doing the day before. So I headed straight for the Tower of London in the morning, found out that the Beefeater Tour I wanted to take was on hold for 2 hrs while all the yeowman went to mass so I went to mass too - what the hey! It was a beautiful ceremony and very very formal. Then I went and saw the Crown Jewels (wow wow wow) and finally caught my Beefeater tour which was my favorite touristy thing! Then I decided to head over to Kennsington Palace by way of Notting Hill. After wandering the shops, I stopped for a picnic lunch overlooking the mini lake in the midst of the gardens. Finally, it was time for me to go to the theater again for a showing of Coreolanus (I hadn't heard of it before either) by the Royal Shakespeare Troupe at the Globe. I was going purely for the experience, but I had a great time with another dinner in my seat and wine and good company (cute lil' American boy sitting next to me).
And finally Monday I wandered over to see Big Ben and the Parliment Building. Then it was into Westminster Abbey (wow - that place is miraculous) and then time to do some good ol' shopping in Covington. I did some shopping, some window shopping, and some cafe sitting. Finally I ended up at the theater yet again but this time to experience a London musical: Evita It was the first preview performance and again it was amazing.
And finally I traipsed back to Dublin Tues morning to meet up with Amy. I had 73 pictures on my mobile, a farmer's tan, and I nearly wasn't readmitted to Ireland due to the fact I still don't have my work auth and in my sleepy state nearly didn't explain myself correctly (eep - that would've been disasterous).
08 June 2006
"Drive on the Left"
So, my car has a little sticker that reflects on the right hand side of the car saying "drive on the left" with a little arrow. It's a tiny little red car!!! The pedals are the same, I sit on the right side, the blinker/windshield wiper thingies are all mirrored from the US versions, and the most disturbing thing is that the gear shift is on the left. That one still makes me reach for my door - but maybe that's because I've only backed up a total of 2 times so far.
And we only got lost entering Belfast - miraculous! Amy is brilliant with a map.
Another random saying from the UK: "set down area" - load and unload zone
Oh - and why does Northern Ireland have all it's roadsigns in miles? My car's spedometer doesn't even tell me miles!!! Dare to be different I guess? Silly silly rebelleous country.
I'm going to innundate people with pictures and stories once Amy leaves - between my 70 pictures and 3 days in London; then at least 70 pictures and 4 days in Northern Ireland - yeah - it's going to be a lot.
And we only got lost entering Belfast - miraculous! Amy is brilliant with a map.
Another random saying from the UK: "set down area" - load and unload zone
Oh - and why does Northern Ireland have all it's roadsigns in miles? My car's spedometer doesn't even tell me miles!!! Dare to be different I guess? Silly silly rebelleous country.
I'm going to innundate people with pictures and stories once Amy leaves - between my 70 pictures and 3 days in London; then at least 70 pictures and 4 days in Northern Ireland - yeah - it's going to be a lot.
07 June 2006
wrong side? "go left!"
London was absolutely lovely!
Amy arrived safely and we just wandered through Dublin talking since she's done most of the touristy things in Dublin when she visited last summer.
And today - well, today should be absolutely brilliant! I get to drive on the "wrong" (aka left) side of the road from Dublin to Belfast......... Amy's job is to navigate and remind me to "go left" at the roundabouts. My job is to remember to stay left every other time.
Do you think we can do it? I do!!
Northern Ireland here we come!
Apparently I've picked up "brilliant" and "lovely" in my vocabulary... In addition to "mobile" Amy can't cease to laugh at me!
Amy arrived safely and we just wandered through Dublin talking since she's done most of the touristy things in Dublin when she visited last summer.
And today - well, today should be absolutely brilliant! I get to drive on the "wrong" (aka left) side of the road from Dublin to Belfast......... Amy's job is to navigate and remind me to "go left" at the roundabouts. My job is to remember to stay left every other time.
Do you think we can do it? I do!!
Northern Ireland here we come!
Apparently I've picked up "brilliant" and "lovely" in my vocabulary... In addition to "mobile" Amy can't cease to laugh at me!
04 June 2006
teaser reminders
So, this is a teaser of my 2 days in London.... I wouldn't have posted it 'cept I'm sitting at a computer emailing it to myself so I'm going to be a tease!
So, let there be nonsequitors.
I want a beefeater teddybear; I saw Prince Charles; mounted marching band; Shakespeare in the Park - Taming of the Shrew; Globe Theater - Coriolanus; random hostel stuff; blisters; Kensington Gardens; Tower of London & Yeowman; my new British friends; the cute American boy I shared a blanket with tonight at the play (like I said, I'm a tease); friggin' heat; St Pauls & London Eye and why I hate heights; more church than in the past 2 years combined; there are loud drunk people behind me in my hostel.....
Ok - this is the stuff I know I need to write about.. One more day in London and then I fly back to Dublin and meet up with Amy so I can continue my vacation adventure.
I've definitely walked > 25 miles these past 2 days......
So, let there be nonsequitors.
I want a beefeater teddybear; I saw Prince Charles; mounted marching band; Shakespeare in the Park - Taming of the Shrew; Globe Theater - Coriolanus; random hostel stuff; blisters; Kensington Gardens; Tower of London & Yeowman; my new British friends; the cute American boy I shared a blanket with tonight at the play (like I said, I'm a tease); friggin' heat; St Pauls & London Eye and why I hate heights; more church than in the past 2 years combined; there are loud drunk people behind me in my hostel.....
Ok - this is the stuff I know I need to write about.. One more day in London and then I fly back to Dublin and meet up with Amy so I can continue my vacation adventure.
I've definitely walked > 25 miles these past 2 days......
02 June 2006
Friday: Rugby in the Office
You wouldn't think an office full of 2 computers per person would encourage having me learn rugby in the middle of the very narrow corridor. Especially since I'm not athletic and part of that means my inability to catch. Football, sure I can kick and run - but catching? Rugby? All of this was instigated by my lovely French boss and Irish colleague who were all too amused to watch me get hit in the stomach the first time they threw the rugby football at me unaware....
Ahh - good times in the office.
More updates to come - I've been pretty boring lately, but life's picking up today since I've got travel travel travel coming up. First I'm off to London tonight and will be there through Tues morning - lots of exciting plans. Then Tuesday Amy arrives in Dublin and Wednesday we head up to Northern Ireland for 4 days. It'll be lovely to have a week off - especially since it's supposed to be 75 and sunny my entire stay in London. Skirts here I come!
Ahh - good times in the office.
More updates to come - I've been pretty boring lately, but life's picking up today since I've got travel travel travel coming up. First I'm off to London tonight and will be there through Tues morning - lots of exciting plans. Then Tuesday Amy arrives in Dublin and Wednesday we head up to Northern Ireland for 4 days. It'll be lovely to have a week off - especially since it's supposed to be 75 and sunny my entire stay in London. Skirts here I come!
30 May 2006
Ode to my Oven Accompanied By County Cork Pictures
So, I finally took the time to put up with using bluetooth between my mobile and my iBook to get my photos off my phone and onto my 'puter. It was a tedious process, but since the cord doesn't have Mac compatible software, it was a requirement. So, to go with my earlier tales of woe in Cork - here are some of the pictures. One from my rainy Sunday in Blarney and one from my sunny Saturday in Cork. Enjoy the pictures.
And since people keep wondering - does my stove work? Will my stove ever work? How is my stove?
My oven would like to report that it is merrily able to cook me delicious food now that it turns on. About 2 weeks ago I finally gave in and e-mailed my landlord to ask if there was "some secret to Irish ovens". He responded by calling me that evening to ask what was occuring and when I explained to him my predicament he "hrrrmmmed" for a moment and then scheduled to stop in the next evening to have a look and drop of the manuals that I didn't have for my appliances.
I was utterly and completely humiliated at having to ask this question - it's an oven - it's got 2 dials - how hard can it be??? But no - it just blinked at me stating it's proud mastery of electricity but refusing to heat.
So when my landlord arrived the following night I wasn't surprised at my feeling of dread that this would be one of those "let's see how American Yvette is" events in my welcome to Ireland. And, as to not disappoint, the oven obliged with being a lovingly odd European appliance.....
You have to set the clock on the oven before you can get it to turn on. No matter what. Who'da thunkit?? Not me!!!
My landlord deftly set my clock and turned on the oven and there was a light and heat and everything!!! Blonde moment!
Somehow, the completely wordless oven needs it's clock set before it will turn on - and apparently it's this way to make it "the same throughout Europe"... ummmmm..... ok..... I still think it's weird. But my oven works wonderfully and I've been cooking in a lot now!
And as my third trick for this evening, I'd like to once again proclaim that the rounds system in Ireland is entirely dangerous and very fun. Tuesday night I went out with a few coworkers to celebrate a work related triumph although having just gotten over food poisoning - I stuck to Diet Coke and water. Wednesday night I saw the Editors in concert which was absolutely amazing!! Thursday night I went out for yummy yummy Indian food. And Friday night I went out for "a pint". (The "a" part of that qualification is a complete misnomer - no matter who says it.) And then I spent the rest of the weekend doing chores, relaxing, trying to figure out what I'm doing with Amy when she visits and we head to Northern Ireland and making sure my entire weekend in London is all setup (I leave for London Friday night).
And since people keep wondering - does my stove work? Will my stove ever work? How is my stove?
My oven would like to report that it is merrily able to cook me delicious food now that it turns on. About 2 weeks ago I finally gave in and e-mailed my landlord to ask if there was "some secret to Irish ovens". He responded by calling me that evening to ask what was occuring and when I explained to him my predicament he "hrrrmmmed" for a moment and then scheduled to stop in the next evening to have a look and drop of the manuals that I didn't have for my appliances.
I was utterly and completely humiliated at having to ask this question - it's an oven - it's got 2 dials - how hard can it be??? But no - it just blinked at me stating it's proud mastery of electricity but refusing to heat.
So when my landlord arrived the following night I wasn't surprised at my feeling of dread that this would be one of those "let's see how American Yvette is" events in my welcome to Ireland. And, as to not disappoint, the oven obliged with being a lovingly odd European appliance.....
You have to set the clock on the oven before you can get it to turn on. No matter what. Who'da thunkit?? Not me!!!
My landlord deftly set my clock and turned on the oven and there was a light and heat and everything!!! Blonde moment!
Somehow, the completely wordless oven needs it's clock set before it will turn on - and apparently it's this way to make it "the same throughout Europe"... ummmmm..... ok..... I still think it's weird. But my oven works wonderfully and I've been cooking in a lot now!
And as my third trick for this evening, I'd like to once again proclaim that the rounds system in Ireland is entirely dangerous and very fun. Tuesday night I went out with a few coworkers to celebrate a work related triumph although having just gotten over food poisoning - I stuck to Diet Coke and water. Wednesday night I saw the Editors in concert which was absolutely amazing!! Thursday night I went out for yummy yummy Indian food. And Friday night I went out for "a pint". (The "a" part of that qualification is a complete misnomer - no matter who says it.) And then I spent the rest of the weekend doing chores, relaxing, trying to figure out what I'm doing with Amy when she visits and we head to Northern Ireland and making sure my entire weekend in London is all setup (I leave for London Friday night).
29 May 2006
slow moving Monday
I think I might be the only person who feels guilty about having a housekeeper come once a week. Seriously - it was a shock the first time, delightful the second, and now I just feel guilty! It makes me want to be cleaner! She's a delightful woman who speaks no English but does a lovely job at picking up after me. I just have to remind myself that this is her job and even if I'm not the one paying her fee someone is. And I'm honestly not ridiculously dirty or anything - she just does a few dishes, counters, sinks and sweeps. But but but.... I'm so spoiled!
22 May 2006
Weekend in Cork
I decided Thurs afternoon that I was really going away this weekend - not just thinking about it - and made room and train reservations for Cork in Southern Ireland. So Friday right after work I took off for Cork.
It was a trip with badness on the beginning and end, but a perfectly pleasant middle:
It was a trip with badness on the beginning and end, but a perfectly pleasant middle:
- I had my camera stolen somewhere between Dublin and Cork on Fri which confounds me because it was in the bag between my legs the entire ride to Cork. (or I lost it - which I'm just as likely to have done) I didn't realize this till I was leaving the hotel the next morning. I wanted to sob with frustration. My new baby camera!!!
- Got to the hotel and checked in. I started laughing uncontrollably when I did my normal "I'm in a hotel test the bed by flopping on it" entrance to the room. That was the most abysmal bed I've ever spent 5 mins on, let alone 3 nights. Ughs. Well, I guess I only really spent 2 nights on it since last night I didn't really sleep at all. Thank god the rest of the hotel was acceptable and the staff was friendly.
- I was across the street from what has turned into my favorite pub ever. It just had so much character. There were lots of "regulars" and non-regular locals there. Both Fri and Sat (yes, it's sad that I went two nights when I thought I'd only go Fri - but it was that much fun) there were local musicians just sitting in a circle playing their hearts out. Mmmm - random Irish music with cute ass flutists who wink and buy you a pint. Good Fri night and pretty good Sat night (no flutist - so it didn't live up to it's preceding night).
- Spent Saturday walking - I walked soooooooo disgustingly much. It was gorgeous and sunny out and Cork is an absolutely lovely city. I'd share pictures if I had them. Ok - so I have a few but I don't have the cable to get them off my mobile. The highlights were the pretty quaint local church I wandered into somewhere just outside the city centre, and the Cork City Gaol. Had an amazingly yummy dinner and then went back to Sin E.
- Woke up to pouring rain Sun morning with 2 options for things to do: go to Blarney or go to Kinsale. I was either going to not-kiss the yucky Blarney Stone or go take a long walk on the beach and their surrounding hills. Due to the rain, I decided that Blarney would be more fun and because of this got to sleep in. Grabbed the bus to Blarney and did the touristy romp to the top of the castle where I hung myself upside down (eeep) over the air (and some safety rails) to air-kiss the Blarney Stone. I wasn't kissing that thing - germs! Then wandered the grounds forever in the rain (so pretty) and grabbed myself a great lunch at the local pub before catching the bus back. I was rained out, so after stopping in 2 stores for some shopping, I caught a showing of The DaVinci Code and grabbed pizza on my way to the hotel.
- Got back happy and ready to go home to my Dublin apartment. And then hell broke loose in my stomach and I didn't sleep. So I spent all day today in bed or the bathroom hating life itself.
14 May 2006
Rainy Sunday
After staring in consternation at the gazillion buttons and knobs on my washer, I managed to turn it on! There were no circuit breaker switches to confound me. It's now making spinning sounds like I've never heard before.. if it eats my underwear I'm going to be seriously upset!
I might not be able to turn the oven on (still) but at least the more important washer is now supposedly washing my clothes.
Oooo - it sounds like a plane turning off after landing... I'm concerned!
I might not be able to turn the oven on (still) but at least the more important washer is now supposedly washing my clothes.
Oooo - it sounds like a plane turning off after landing... I'm concerned!
13 May 2006
Yvette's First Irish Pub Crawl
From Lonely Planet's Guide to Dublin
And now I'll start with a guide to how to be a single and alone traveler in Dublin:
I walked through the yucky rain to the crepe stand I really wanted dinner at, but they were closing so I went to the Italian joint next door. After a nice dinner I decided to walk to a bar I'd seen walking around Dublin my first night here that just really caught my eye: The International Bar. I squirmed my way through the smokers and drinkers on the stoop (there's no smoking inside establishments in Ireland). At first I didn't see any empty places to sit, but I worked my way to the back of the pub and found a stool. I ordered my first Guinness - and let it sit obviously to let the bubbles fall through appropriately. I'm rather amazed that I could actually drink Guinness after the atrocious smells of the past 2 weeks. But I did.
There was a local entertainment paper on the bar next to the woman sitting to my right. I asked her if I could see it to check if it was dated through this weekend. It wasn't, but we struck up a great conversation. The guy she was with came back in having gone out for a smoke and we were all just chatting away and drinking our pints.
2 (or 3? can't remember) pints later we'd talked pretty much every taboo subject you could think of for an international contingent to talk about in the first acquaintance: politics, American politics, religion, sexuality and the perceptions of one country on another. My lovely drinking companions were Siobhane and Paul - 2 native Dubliners - although Siobhane now lives in Berlin and was on holiday so had gotten together with Paul to catch up. However, my new "welcoming party" to Ireland decided to move onto another pub and next thing I know Siobhane has one of my arms and Paul has the other and I'm being dragged half a block away to Grogan's Pub. It was PACKED! And after Siobhane spilled a pint on some rather unattractive lady's lap and picked up a round for our table, we were back to chatting away. Some more pints later we had flipped through the entertainment guide for this weekend (Grogan's had it) and decided to make our way to The Sugar Club which was a short hike away. Swigging down the last of our pints, we were off...
After traipsing silly-illy through St Stephen's Green, we made a quick top off at Hartigan's because crossing the street was looking daunting to Paul. Ran into Paul's brother and some of his brother's friends so they bought us our fortifying round. This was a true no-frills pub which my lil' guide to Dublin describes as follows:
Then we finally made it across the whole 2 lane street to the Sugar Club and after grabbing a great table towards the bar - we managed to get drinks and started listening to a kickass ska band. Siobhane dragged us both to bring us down to the dance floor and we alternated songs dancing and drinking for the rest of the evening. Since it was a club license, they were able to serve beer past the pub cutoff of 2am so I was there until around 3am when I finally bid my newfound Dublin friends cheers and grabbed a cab back to my flat with 2 new phone numbers in my mobile and many wishes to have my visit Berlin by Siobhane.
Talking to my mother quickly (thank you mother for putting up with your rather hysterical daughter) I dragged my drunk ass to bed. Woke up at 9am with a hangover that could kill a cow having had at least 10 pints last night...... After a rough day, I finally got out of bed for a "final" time at 4pm feeling human. And now that I've fortified myself with a yummy sandwich and tea I feel human again.
Now that's one hangover I earned by participating in the Irish National Sport: Drinking and Pub Crawling... and I don't regret it in the least!
Pub Etiquette
The rounds system - the simple custom where someone buys you a drink and you buy one back - is the bedrock of the Irish pub culture. It's summed up in the Irish saying, 'it's impossible for two men to go to a pub for one drink.' Nothing will hasten your fall from social grace here like the failure to uphold this pub law. The Irish are extremely generous and one thing they can't abide is tight-fistedness.
Another golden rule about the system is that the next round starts when the first person has finished (preferably just about to finish) their drink. It doesn't matter if you're only halfway through your pint, if it's your round get them in.
Your greatest challenge will probably be trying to keep up with your fellow drinkers who may keep buying you drinks in every round even when you've still got a clatter of unfinished pints in front of you and you're sliding face first down the bar.
You should be aware that banter is the fibre of sociability. 'Slagging', or teasing, is the city's favorite pastime. If you can give as good as you get, they'll love you. Remember to pack a wad of self-deprecation, for they'll warm to you much quicker if you don't take yourself too seriously.
And now I'll start with a guide to how to be a single and alone traveler in Dublin:
- Spend a few days not smelling the brewing stench of the Guinness Factory.
- Walk around and watch for people standing outside pubs with pints and cigarettes. The pub with the fewest dodgy blokes standing outside is probably a winner.
- Now that you know your destination for dessert, go get a good dinner in you because that Irish beer is good strong stuff and drinking it on an empty stomach isn't advisable - even if you're only planning on one pint. And if you have a glass of wine with dinner, you're just acting like the locals because it is Friday night after all.
- Go find that pub that you were eyeing earlier and once you find the right door, enter, stop, scan the crowd and find yourself a perch on a barstool right near a friendly looking bartender.
- Order a pint of Guinness. Put it down to let it settle out.
- While waiting, look left and right to see who's there - and if there's a nice looking person start talking to him or her.
- Continue talking and start drinking the Guinness that is now beckoning you.
- Ireland is a land of merry chaos - go with it.
I walked through the yucky rain to the crepe stand I really wanted dinner at, but they were closing so I went to the Italian joint next door. After a nice dinner I decided to walk to a bar I'd seen walking around Dublin my first night here that just really caught my eye: The International Bar. I squirmed my way through the smokers and drinkers on the stoop (there's no smoking inside establishments in Ireland). At first I didn't see any empty places to sit, but I worked my way to the back of the pub and found a stool. I ordered my first Guinness - and let it sit obviously to let the bubbles fall through appropriately. I'm rather amazed that I could actually drink Guinness after the atrocious smells of the past 2 weeks. But I did.
There was a local entertainment paper on the bar next to the woman sitting to my right. I asked her if I could see it to check if it was dated through this weekend. It wasn't, but we struck up a great conversation. The guy she was with came back in having gone out for a smoke and we were all just chatting away and drinking our pints.
2 (or 3? can't remember) pints later we'd talked pretty much every taboo subject you could think of for an international contingent to talk about in the first acquaintance: politics, American politics, religion, sexuality and the perceptions of one country on another. My lovely drinking companions were Siobhane and Paul - 2 native Dubliners - although Siobhane now lives in Berlin and was on holiday so had gotten together with Paul to catch up. However, my new "welcoming party" to Ireland decided to move onto another pub and next thing I know Siobhane has one of my arms and Paul has the other and I'm being dragged half a block away to Grogan's Pub. It was PACKED! And after Siobhane spilled a pint on some rather unattractive lady's lap and picked up a round for our table, we were back to chatting away. Some more pints later we had flipped through the entertainment guide for this weekend (Grogan's had it) and decided to make our way to The Sugar Club which was a short hike away. Swigging down the last of our pints, we were off...
After traipsing silly-illy through St Stephen's Green, we made a quick top off at Hartigan's because crossing the street was looking daunting to Paul. Ran into Paul's brother and some of his brother's friends so they bought us our fortifying round. This was a true no-frills pub which my lil' guide to Dublin describes as follows:
This is about as spartan a bar as you'll find in the city, and is the daytime home to some serious drinkers who appreciate the quiet no-frills surroundings.
Then we finally made it across the whole 2 lane street to the Sugar Club and after grabbing a great table towards the bar - we managed to get drinks and started listening to a kickass ska band. Siobhane dragged us both to bring us down to the dance floor and we alternated songs dancing and drinking for the rest of the evening. Since it was a club license, they were able to serve beer past the pub cutoff of 2am so I was there until around 3am when I finally bid my newfound Dublin friends cheers and grabbed a cab back to my flat with 2 new phone numbers in my mobile and many wishes to have my visit Berlin by Siobhane.
Talking to my mother quickly (thank you mother for putting up with your rather hysterical daughter) I dragged my drunk ass to bed. Woke up at 9am with a hangover that could kill a cow having had at least 10 pints last night...... After a rough day, I finally got out of bed for a "final" time at 4pm feeling human. And now that I've fortified myself with a yummy sandwich and tea I feel human again.
Now that's one hangover I earned by participating in the Irish National Sport: Drinking and Pub Crawling... and I don't regret it in the least!
Traditional Irish Men Served 12-3
Ask and ye shall receive. You asked - so here you go! Who wants which man? They are traditional smoking, drinking, Irish men with accents!
I was just walking from dinner to a pub in the rain in the City Centre when I found where all the male prostitutes stand??? Hrmmm....
The pictures a little blurry because I was laughing, it was raining, and I hate snapping photos with subjects that are human that are unaware they're being photographed. So I didn't go for a take2. But it gets the point across.
I was just walking from dinner to a pub in the rain in the City Centre when I found where all the male prostitutes stand??? Hrmmm....
The pictures a little blurry because I was laughing, it was raining, and I hate snapping photos with subjects that are human that are unaware they're being photographed. So I didn't go for a take2. But it gets the point across.
11 May 2006
The Evilest Oven in all of Ireland (and the world?)
I cannot get this oven to turn on. It's been sitting with it's dials all turned on for the past 15 minutes and it's still cold cold cold. Now, I will admit that I didn't realize that Ireland has little light switches that act as sort of breakers for every electrical outlet and there's a red one for the stove. I found this out the hard way when I couldn't use the stovetop. But, bloody hell, it's on! - the light's blinking!
In the meantime, I'm staring at my pizza longingly and hungrily. I've started on my glass of wine early as I have a stare down with the oven.
I wish I could console myself with the fact that I finally have broadband. Eircom came through.
In the meantime, I'm staring at my pizza longingly and hungrily. I've started on my glass of wine early as I have a stare down with the oven.
I wish I could console myself with the fact that I finally have broadband. Eircom came through.
10 May 2006
Eircom 1, Comcast 0
Getting my internet actually setup in my apartment is proving to be rather hysterical. I feel really bad for my landlord who's the one that with our agreement is responsible for having to at this point threaten the phone company (DSL - wonderful).
But I must say - my landlord is absolutely hysterical and adorable. I've never met him, but our correspondence keeps getting more ridiculous. He asked me today if there's anything that compares to the annoyance of this in the states. I didn't think - I just answered a loud "YES". Comcast Cable. But seeing what Eircom is doing, I think Eircom is worse than Comcast hands-down.
At least this time, I'm not the one calling!
Oh Eircom - hook up my internet.
Thank you landlord for being so nice!!
But I must say - my landlord is absolutely hysterical and adorable. I've never met him, but our correspondence keeps getting more ridiculous. He asked me today if there's anything that compares to the annoyance of this in the states. I didn't think - I just answered a loud "YES". Comcast Cable. But seeing what Eircom is doing, I think Eircom is worse than Comcast hands-down.
At least this time, I'm not the one calling!
Oh Eircom - hook up my internet.
Thank you landlord for being so nice!!
The Office
Let's talk a little about the office here... It's very different from the Seattle office.
- It's one big room with 3 offices for the very few managers here squeezed into them. All the developers are just at these huge joint desks with no cube partitions.
- During the day it's exceptionally quiet - I'm used to people shouting over tall cube partitions or standing on things to look over cube walls. I've held conversations with colleagues before routinely who are more than just across the single divisional wall. Here, there's no talking -- until the phones start ringing around 4pm which is around when Seattle Folks start getting into the office. Thank god for my iPod.
- Location location location.... meaning lunch options lunch options lunch options.
- The Seattle office is located in the International District - this means lunch is Asian Asian Asian or Specialties Deli -- unless you desier walking to Pioneer Square. The Dublin office is located in the midst of the Guiness Brewery. This means there's nothing around to eat so you're pretty much limited to 3 options: go to the Spar (posher version of 7-11 with a sandwhich counter), go to Manny's (pretty decent panini lunch spot), or go get free admittance to the Guiness Storehouse Visitor Center and skip the tour to go to the resteraunt on the top -- all of this, again, unless you desire walking to Temple Bar.
- Hysterically, there are 2 lunch shifts pretty much: the software developers and their managers; everyone else and their managers.
- The people that I used to have rather entertainingly disjoint and at-odds conversations with via e-mail and other correspondence methods now sit behind me. So we're now nice to each other and I get so much more done.
- Paperwork? I thought paperwork was non-existant at the Seattle office - ha!! Dublin shows them how to make paperwork non-existant.
- The time difference and the small size of this office makes me much much more productive - not nearly so many interruptions and pretty much no e-mail after my first purge in the morning.
- It's so damn international it's wonderful!!! Today's lunch talk was politics in formerly Communist countries (I was one of the few people who hasn't lived through the abolition of Communism in my home country at our table); amazing stuff.
- The people are friendly and my team is hysterical - talk about team bonding. I think the Tester for my team and I are going to get kicked out of the office some mornings though... it's so quiet (see above) that when we get into our normal morning gossip session much laughter ensues and it sounds so loud! We've taken it down to a whisper with some practice since our desks are caddy-corner to each other and we tend to play bumper roller-chairs all day.
- Too many people, too little space - love your neighbor!
- It's ridiculously weird being in the top 5% of seniority in the office.
09 May 2006
Hate Mail to my Nose
Dear nose,
Why did you suddenly regain your ability to smell and stop leaking? I mean, I'm happy about the lack of necessity for tissues - you are red eventhough I loved you with lotiony tissues.. but why do you have to smell? Couldn't you have waited until I got to work to regain your ability to inhale? I mean, wouldn't it be nice to walk by the Guiness Brewery for one more morning (because they only seem to use whatever part of the process smells unghastly in the morning) in utter blissful ignorance about the wretchedly nasty smell? That was the only reason I was ok with being sick - and I'm still sick - but you've given me back my sense of smell to taunt me with the gag-nasty zone that is my walk to work.
Nose, today you are not my friend - I'm glad you're raw from being sick - you deserve it for making me smell Guiness this morning.
With much scorn,
Yvette
ps - to people who are illegally reading my nose's mail. Yes, I am bitter about the smell of Guiness. It's just that bad.
Why did you suddenly regain your ability to smell and stop leaking? I mean, I'm happy about the lack of necessity for tissues - you are red eventhough I loved you with lotiony tissues.. but why do you have to smell? Couldn't you have waited until I got to work to regain your ability to inhale? I mean, wouldn't it be nice to walk by the Guiness Brewery for one more morning (because they only seem to use whatever part of the process smells unghastly in the morning) in utter blissful ignorance about the wretchedly nasty smell? That was the only reason I was ok with being sick - and I'm still sick - but you've given me back my sense of smell to taunt me with the gag-nasty zone that is my walk to work.
Nose, today you are not my friend - I'm glad you're raw from being sick - you deserve it for making me smell Guiness this morning.
With much scorn,
Yvette
ps - to people who are illegally reading my nose's mail. Yes, I am bitter about the smell of Guiness. It's just that bad.
07 May 2006
What to do on Sunday in Dublin?
So, although I was feeling utterly miserable, my cough had let up so I went to see The Fiery Furnaces last night at Whelan's. It was a great show and I loved the opener (Scissors for Lefty from San Fransisco).
Today, I'm not sure what I'm up to. I've been scouring for things I want to see and do in Dublin as well as in the rest of Ireland. I finally have an explorer for the rest of Ireland (although I'll probably go see Galway in the Inis Mor Cliffs another weekend since she's already seen them).
In other random news, I was thinking maybe I'd check out a movie since it's a very low-energy source of entertainment. In reading the reviews of a girlie movie, Tristan and Isolde I found the following line far to humorous:
Ahh - happy Sunday all. I'm off to debate movie versus getting myself ready to take a walk over to Trinity College to see if I can get in to see the Book of Kells.
Today, I'm not sure what I'm up to. I've been scouring for things I want to see and do in Dublin as well as in the rest of Ireland. I finally have an explorer for the rest of Ireland (although I'll probably go see Galway in the Inis Mor Cliffs another weekend since she's already seen them).
In other random news, I was thinking maybe I'd check out a movie since it's a very low-energy source of entertainment. In reading the reviews of a girlie movie, Tristan and Isolde I found the following line far to humorous:
Another major faux pas is that the Irish are depicted as organised bloodthirsty, slave trading warmongers. At no time in the history of this country were we organised.
Ahh - happy Sunday all. I'm off to debate movie versus getting myself ready to take a walk over to Trinity College to see if I can get in to see the Book of Kells.
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