Lessons learned:
1. I really can travel alone, and maybe even prefer it! While I did have some lonely moments I learned to savor the freedom in being able to make your own decisions and to truly depend and trust myself. To listen to myself when I feel uncomfortable, to try my best to hold my tongue when my opinion is not needed, and to remember that it is okay to get grouchy but not to wallow. Part of it is accepting how you feel, your frustrations or disappointments and deciding what to do with that. Do I let it ruin my day? Hopefully not. Little reminders like reading the paper help to realize how few people have the opportunities that I am experiencing and how truly lucky I am.
2. I can do some serious hard work! I really surprised myself with how much I “dug in” to the farm work. I really fell in love with raising animals (albeit mine would have a cushy life) and growing your own vegetables. I am yearning for a garden patch back home. There is something to be found in caring for the earth, growing your food, and feeling a connection to it.
3. I can make friends wherever I go. I met some amazing people on this trip who all had something to teach me. From the two women traveling solo from Denmark & Holland who both preferred traveling solo to Sonny the farmer (yes I learned things from him!) to Alex from Germany who had such innocence and joyous love of life. I think of these people often and carry the memories of them with me. When you travel with someone you will meet a couple of people, but nowhere near the amount of people you meet traveling solo. I found much comfort in this.
4. Hostels are not horrible! This was my first hostel experience and overall it was fantastic! Yes I prefer to have my own space, but they are so affordable, you meet amazing people, and the kitchens cannot be beat.
5. In my younger years I always considered myself a city girl, but I think I am quite the opposite. I love the small towns, beautiful countryside, and beautiful outdoors activities way more than a bustling city.
6. I am tired of being single. Yes I said it. I would have preferred to share some of these experiences with a partner. No this does not make me a hypocrite, I really did love traveling alone, but I am looking for a man to shovel poop with, pull weeds with, and laugh with. A kind man who loves the environment, is comfortable in his own skin, is super liberal, and looks at life from a positive viewpoint. Know someone like that? Send him my way please.
7. I brought way too many clothes. I thought France was going to be like an oven so I schlepped warm weather clothes all around Ireland for over a month and wore ¼ of them while in France. I brought too many sandals and should have brought a pair of tennis shoes to go running with instead. I also brought too many farm pants. Hello if you have dirt on your clothes you can still wear the same pants the next day, you are on a farm after all! I also brought one too many bags that I thought would double as a purse but used it once for this purpose. Too much stuff!
8. I like to eat. Every 2 hours to be exact. I need to plan more for this in the future. Like right now. I am on a plane and starving.
9. I like Guinness but I am afraid to drink it in the States because I just don’t know if it will be as good.
10. I like Pastis, it kind of numbs your tongue. Wonder if it does this in the states. This warrants further investigation.
11. I really want to live in Ireland, but I really love my life in LA. Like more than I have loved my life in like ever. Yes I did just make a valley reference for those that missed it. I have fantastic friends, a great job, and belong to a fantastic church. Am I willing to give that up to move to Ireland? Would I like it as much if I lived there? All thoughts to be pondered.
I have had so many wonderful experiences over this summer that I feel so grateful for. I know it is easy to get caught up in the day to day activities of life, but I always want to be able to keep perspective, whether I am stuck in LA traffic or behind someone rude at the grocery store. I want to meet as many people as possible in this life, from all over the globe, and learn as much from them as I can. And maybe inspire one or two of them to pick up a wee bit o trash along the way.
Now time to start planning what I am doing next summer…..
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Provence
After meeting up with Dad and Bonnie we spent one night at a beautiful B & B near the quaint town of Menerbes. This B & B was owned by an older Parisian couple who had lived there for ten years and the wife liked to spend her days topless by the pool perfecting her tan. The grounds, rooms, and pool were jaw droppingly gorgeous. I could definitely spend some time there. There were hammocks under the trees, pastis or wine at your disposal and the sound of cicadas chirping in the background.
The next night it was time to meet up with the other 17 friends and family who had come to Provence to spend the week celebrating Dad & Bonnie’s 25th wedding anniversary. We had two villas, one of which had 15 people and the other housed the rest of our crew (6 people). Our villa (the big villa) was just beautiful and huge! I slept in a dorm room with my cousin Amie and Aunt Pam, and we had quite the good time. The week was spent going to ancient sites, from stone huts to roman ruins. Dad was a great tour guide, and we took our rag tag group of Americans along on many a road trip, with many a car following Dad through the winding streets of medieval towns. Dinners were fantastic, with a few culinary whizzes in the group, we had some amazing meals. The afternoons were punctuated with driving back at the villa and jumping in the pool stat for a cool refresher from the warm Provence touring.
As we were in the towns the family gradually got used to using French and by the end of the trip I was happy to see everyone had mastered the basic greetings. Of course at this point I had mastered the fine art of consuming as many baguettes as possible. Mmm bread. One of my most favorite things!
We also consumed a large amount of wine, but of course! We went to several wineries, including the winery where the film “The Good Year” was filmed. Have not seen it but heard it was nothing to rave about. You will not be surprised to read what my first questions to the wine makers was upon entry to the winery. Is the wine organic? At the aforementioned winery which was a father-daughter operation the daughter told us they had been completely organic for 30 years! So fantastic! Now I know that I am probably getting a lot of eye rolls upon reading this, but organic wine is better for you. In addition to having less sulphites it doesn’t have pesticides. Now who wants to drink pesticides? That’s all I am sayin’.
The party where Dad and Bonnie renewed their vows was fantastic, Bonnie wore her wedding gown and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I read a little poem I wrote that had people laughing and misty all at the same time. We had it catered, the food was amazing and much laughter was to be had. We ended the night with a rousing game of charades. Dad & Bonnie requested that everyone send them charade suggestions in advance but only a few did, thus Dad entered a bunch of his suggestions. Totally random.
Some examples:
1. Song- Wurly hurly girl
2. Movie- The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
3. Some song by a group called “X”
We climbed castles, clambered over ruins, visited the Pope’s Palace, walked on Roman bridges and got a true albeit brief taste of Provence. After Provence it was off to Nice for the night then home to the states. Our drive to Nice was non-eventful, but trying to circumnavigate the one way traffic/people ridden streets of Nice was most certainly not. We had three cars, the only one having a map being Dad’s and three hotels to drop people off at. After spending 90 minutes driving around, getting honked at and having the feeling that our individual blood pressures were above the safe limits we decided to drop off the rental cars at the airport and just take taxi’s to our hotels. Whew! After checking in it was time for a very brief tour of Nice.
Impressions of Nice:
Not so impressed. Really beautiful beaches and buildings, but INSANELY crowded, tons of money flowing through there and not the kind of place I would want to spend a large amount of time. I am told off season it is quite nice, but I have grown to have quite the affinity for small towns and villages and less hustle & bustle. Our small group of 9 found a Thai restaurant to eat dinner at which was off the beaten path and very quiet. After dinner Dad, Grammy and I went out for an evening nightcap. My last drink in Europe! I tried to convince them to go to an Irish pub, but they put the kibosh on that. It was at a bar called the Ritz which of course prompted me to break out into the “Putting on the Ritz” song. (:
My last drink on European soil? Pastis of course! When in France…
It was a really great week and so many rich memories were made with friends and family. The perfect end to a really long but amazing summer. So thankful to have so much love in my life, be it family and friends.
The next night it was time to meet up with the other 17 friends and family who had come to Provence to spend the week celebrating Dad & Bonnie’s 25th wedding anniversary. We had two villas, one of which had 15 people and the other housed the rest of our crew (6 people). Our villa (the big villa) was just beautiful and huge! I slept in a dorm room with my cousin Amie and Aunt Pam, and we had quite the good time. The week was spent going to ancient sites, from stone huts to roman ruins. Dad was a great tour guide, and we took our rag tag group of Americans along on many a road trip, with many a car following Dad through the winding streets of medieval towns. Dinners were fantastic, with a few culinary whizzes in the group, we had some amazing meals. The afternoons were punctuated with driving back at the villa and jumping in the pool stat for a cool refresher from the warm Provence touring.
As we were in the towns the family gradually got used to using French and by the end of the trip I was happy to see everyone had mastered the basic greetings. Of course at this point I had mastered the fine art of consuming as many baguettes as possible. Mmm bread. One of my most favorite things!
We also consumed a large amount of wine, but of course! We went to several wineries, including the winery where the film “The Good Year” was filmed. Have not seen it but heard it was nothing to rave about. You will not be surprised to read what my first questions to the wine makers was upon entry to the winery. Is the wine organic? At the aforementioned winery which was a father-daughter operation the daughter told us they had been completely organic for 30 years! So fantastic! Now I know that I am probably getting a lot of eye rolls upon reading this, but organic wine is better for you. In addition to having less sulphites it doesn’t have pesticides. Now who wants to drink pesticides? That’s all I am sayin’.
The party where Dad and Bonnie renewed their vows was fantastic, Bonnie wore her wedding gown and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I read a little poem I wrote that had people laughing and misty all at the same time. We had it catered, the food was amazing and much laughter was to be had. We ended the night with a rousing game of charades. Dad & Bonnie requested that everyone send them charade suggestions in advance but only a few did, thus Dad entered a bunch of his suggestions. Totally random.
Some examples:
1. Song- Wurly hurly girl
2. Movie- The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
3. Some song by a group called “X”
We climbed castles, clambered over ruins, visited the Pope’s Palace, walked on Roman bridges and got a true albeit brief taste of Provence. After Provence it was off to Nice for the night then home to the states. Our drive to Nice was non-eventful, but trying to circumnavigate the one way traffic/people ridden streets of Nice was most certainly not. We had three cars, the only one having a map being Dad’s and three hotels to drop people off at. After spending 90 minutes driving around, getting honked at and having the feeling that our individual blood pressures were above the safe limits we decided to drop off the rental cars at the airport and just take taxi’s to our hotels. Whew! After checking in it was time for a very brief tour of Nice.
Impressions of Nice:
Not so impressed. Really beautiful beaches and buildings, but INSANELY crowded, tons of money flowing through there and not the kind of place I would want to spend a large amount of time. I am told off season it is quite nice, but I have grown to have quite the affinity for small towns and villages and less hustle & bustle. Our small group of 9 found a Thai restaurant to eat dinner at which was off the beaten path and very quiet. After dinner Dad, Grammy and I went out for an evening nightcap. My last drink in Europe! I tried to convince them to go to an Irish pub, but they put the kibosh on that. It was at a bar called the Ritz which of course prompted me to break out into the “Putting on the Ritz” song. (:
My last drink on European soil? Pastis of course! When in France…
It was a really great week and so many rich memories were made with friends and family. The perfect end to a really long but amazing summer. So thankful to have so much love in my life, be it family and friends.
Cassis
Grammy and I had a long day of travel to head from Blois to Cassis and we arrived 8 hours later. Cassis was just beautiful. Pebbly beaches, azure colored water, and beautiful limestone mountains in the backdrop. We stayed at a lovely little hotel minutes from the beach and had a really relaxing couple of days.
Our hotel had a friendly woman working at the front desk, (contrary to the reviews online) who was quick to offer assistance and helpful tips. Upon arriving in the town I set off in search of a beauty salon to make an appointment. I found one close by but it was closed. Another young woman walked up and through broken English I deciphered that she had an appointment 5 minutes from then. Through broken French I explained to her that I wanted to make an appointment but my French was so so. The esthetician walked up to the spa 5 minutes later.
Conversation was as follows:
Mean esthetician: Hello do you have the 5 o’clock appointment?
Nice young French woman: Yes I have one right now and she (pointing to me) would like to make one.
Mean esthetician: (Okay so I am guessing she asked what I wanted done but she said it so fast I had no idea what she was saying)
Nice young French woman (to esthetician): She only speaks English.
Mean esthetician (in French to nice young French woman): What is she doing in France if she doesn’t speak French?
Then the nice woman looked at me with a really apologetic look as she knew I knew enough French to comprehend that I had just been insulted.
Thus I did not make an appointment there! This really personifies how easy it is to travel in a country where you can speak the language. Traveling in Ireland was so easy because the people all spoke English and were super helpful, but traveling in France has been a bit of a headache. Maybe I am just tired of traveling, maybe it is that I feel like I left a piece of myself in Ireland, I don’t know but the non-helpful French people have seemed to outweigh the helpful ones. But I digress.
One of the days in Cassis Grammy went on a boat ride to view the calanques and I hiked to them. The calanques are between Cassis and Marseille and are rocky inlets flanked by limestone cliffs that are just beautiful! My hike was lovely and hot as hades. The limestone mountains get really warm from the sun and it reflects right into your face, not to mention slippery! It was a beautiful hike thought and nice to get out of the city for a bit. Interesting fact: The limestone from those cliffs is what was used to form the base of the statue of liberty.
Grammy and I did a fair amount of lounging on the pebbly beach while enjoying pear sorbet, it was quite relaxing. There I was, slathered in SPF 50, sun hat on while 90 year old leathered tanned topless French woman sunbathed next to me. Oh yeah I stood out! My SPF 50 and I are okay with that. They have a great market that we enjoyed perusing as well. I swam in the Mediterranean which was brrrrr cold! We punctuated our evenings with sipping on aperitifs at the cafes and watching the sun set beyond the mountains.
One evening we chose an out of the way pizza place that was up an alley that made the most fantastic pizza. It was made by a Tunisian man who spoke minimal English but we managed to communicate via my minimal French. Next to us sat two sailors that we enjoying swapping stories with. They both lived on sailboats alone and just sailed to wherever they felt like. One of them had been sailing for 3 years. I asked him about what they do for food and he said he fished. Well you know what my next question is right? Of course I asked him if he found plastic in their stomachs. He said not too much but he did see a lot of dead sea turtles with pieces of plastic in their mouths. He also said a lot of small islands do not have a trash disposal system so they just throw their trash in the ocean. When he returns from the Caribbean on a certain route he stated that there was a lot of trash to be found on this route. I was amazed. I thought it was primarily just in the States but this is happening everywhere.
It was really a rich experience to find out about their lives. I could see how appealing it would be, as well as unbelievably lonely. I guess that appeals to me, stretch yourself to your limit, go so far outside of your comfort zone, and see if you can find comfort there. For when it is just you, a sail boat, and the ocean, you do not have many options.
At the end of the meal the Tunisian pizza maker came up to us and said something in really fast French. I just smiled and nodded which is my usual go to action when I have no idea what is being offered. Next thing I knew I received an after dinner drink of fig liqueur. This was clear, and almost 100 proof. It was quite a shock to the system but an interesting way to end the evening.
It was the perfect break between cities to spend 3 nights in Cassis; very relaxing and enjoyable.
Next it was time to head to Provence!
Our hotel had a friendly woman working at the front desk, (contrary to the reviews online) who was quick to offer assistance and helpful tips. Upon arriving in the town I set off in search of a beauty salon to make an appointment. I found one close by but it was closed. Another young woman walked up and through broken English I deciphered that she had an appointment 5 minutes from then. Through broken French I explained to her that I wanted to make an appointment but my French was so so. The esthetician walked up to the spa 5 minutes later.
Conversation was as follows:
Mean esthetician: Hello do you have the 5 o’clock appointment?
Nice young French woman: Yes I have one right now and she (pointing to me) would like to make one.
Mean esthetician: (Okay so I am guessing she asked what I wanted done but she said it so fast I had no idea what she was saying)
Nice young French woman (to esthetician): She only speaks English.
Mean esthetician (in French to nice young French woman): What is she doing in France if she doesn’t speak French?
Then the nice woman looked at me with a really apologetic look as she knew I knew enough French to comprehend that I had just been insulted.
Thus I did not make an appointment there! This really personifies how easy it is to travel in a country where you can speak the language. Traveling in Ireland was so easy because the people all spoke English and were super helpful, but traveling in France has been a bit of a headache. Maybe I am just tired of traveling, maybe it is that I feel like I left a piece of myself in Ireland, I don’t know but the non-helpful French people have seemed to outweigh the helpful ones. But I digress.
One of the days in Cassis Grammy went on a boat ride to view the calanques and I hiked to them. The calanques are between Cassis and Marseille and are rocky inlets flanked by limestone cliffs that are just beautiful! My hike was lovely and hot as hades. The limestone mountains get really warm from the sun and it reflects right into your face, not to mention slippery! It was a beautiful hike thought and nice to get out of the city for a bit. Interesting fact: The limestone from those cliffs is what was used to form the base of the statue of liberty.
Grammy and I did a fair amount of lounging on the pebbly beach while enjoying pear sorbet, it was quite relaxing. There I was, slathered in SPF 50, sun hat on while 90 year old leathered tanned topless French woman sunbathed next to me. Oh yeah I stood out! My SPF 50 and I are okay with that. They have a great market that we enjoyed perusing as well. I swam in the Mediterranean which was brrrrr cold! We punctuated our evenings with sipping on aperitifs at the cafes and watching the sun set beyond the mountains.
One evening we chose an out of the way pizza place that was up an alley that made the most fantastic pizza. It was made by a Tunisian man who spoke minimal English but we managed to communicate via my minimal French. Next to us sat two sailors that we enjoying swapping stories with. They both lived on sailboats alone and just sailed to wherever they felt like. One of them had been sailing for 3 years. I asked him about what they do for food and he said he fished. Well you know what my next question is right? Of course I asked him if he found plastic in their stomachs. He said not too much but he did see a lot of dead sea turtles with pieces of plastic in their mouths. He also said a lot of small islands do not have a trash disposal system so they just throw their trash in the ocean. When he returns from the Caribbean on a certain route he stated that there was a lot of trash to be found on this route. I was amazed. I thought it was primarily just in the States but this is happening everywhere.
It was really a rich experience to find out about their lives. I could see how appealing it would be, as well as unbelievably lonely. I guess that appeals to me, stretch yourself to your limit, go so far outside of your comfort zone, and see if you can find comfort there. For when it is just you, a sail boat, and the ocean, you do not have many options.
At the end of the meal the Tunisian pizza maker came up to us and said something in really fast French. I just smiled and nodded which is my usual go to action when I have no idea what is being offered. Next thing I knew I received an after dinner drink of fig liqueur. This was clear, and almost 100 proof. It was quite a shock to the system but an interesting way to end the evening.
It was the perfect break between cities to spend 3 nights in Cassis; very relaxing and enjoyable.
Next it was time to head to Provence!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Bye Bye Blois
Grammy and I had a lovely 9 days spent in Blois. It is such a quaint picturesque town, curving streets, medieval buildings, a chateau looming over it all with three magnificent cathedrals set alongside the banks of the Loire.
On Saturday we went to the public market. Wow was that a sight to behold. Of course there was the expected fruit and vegetable stands, boulangerie stands with their wide array of baked goods, and cheese stands with more goat cheese than I could eat in a year. What we didn’t expect was the mattress stand, the lingerie stands, and the “sell whatever you have lying around your house” stands. It was quite the interesting experience. We purchased wonderful food for dinner that evening and lunch for the next couple of days.
On Sunday we had tickets for a chateau excursion that left from the town of Tours. We had to take a train from Blois to Tours, as we had for our previous two excursions out of Tours. I did not check the train schedule until mid morning and lo and behold they have limited trains on Sundays! Uh oh. Thus I had to call the tourist office who we booked through to see if we could reschedule the excursion to Monday as we would not be able to make it. The woman informed me that the tour guide stated he had to turn people away for our seats so we may have to eat the money. These excursions are not cheap and thus enter me freaking out. The woman at the tourist office instructed me to call back at 12:30 to check if we could get on the tour tomorrow.
Grammy and I decided to travel in the opposite direction to the city of Orleans to see what Orleans had going on. Well they have a massive cathedral. And when I say massive, whoa do I mean massive. This is the kind of cathedral that could really scare you into believing in something! Very gothic, very beautiful, very imposing.
My telephone call to the tourist office occurred at 12:40 after we departed the train when I listened to a message stating they were closed between 12:30-2:30 for lunch. Seriously. I called back at 2:30, was told we would not be able to get on the tour, and then I pulled out a wee bit of complaining, she called the tour operator back and instructed us to show up on Monday at the instructed time and “hopefully” we would get on the bus.
Aside from the cathedral we didn’t find much to Orleans and headed back to Blois as there was a free renaissance music that evening in front of the castle. Our trip back to the train station was eventful in that we decided to shorten our walking time by hopping on the light rail. While waiting for the light rail I met an Irish woman who had just moved to France. Ahhh Ireland! It made me quite wistful upon hearing her accent. After we boarded the light rail it took me approximately 5 seconds to realize it was going the wrong way. Oops! Grammy and I lengthened our walking time by a bit but we had a laugh about it later. Always something to laugh about after the fact!
Blois is a lovely town and during the summer they have a large amount of free summer concerts and festivities that we enjoyed partaking in. The renaissance music was beautiful, but a bit sleep inducing. Post music it was back to the apartment to make dinner and pack up our belongings as we would not have time on Monday.
Monday morning we got up early to do some last minute shopping in Blois, until we realized that everything except the post office and mobile phone store are closed in Blois on Monday. Literally everything. Thus we decided to head to Tours early, and we did indeed make it onto the excursion. We were able to see the most visited chateau in the Loire valley (of which there are 1,000 chateaus) Chenonceau. This chateau is quite beautiful. And completely overrun with tourists! Approximately 6,000 tourist go through that chateau per day in the height of the summer season. Wowza. Grammy and I up until this point hadn’t seen barely any Americans, well we saw and heard them here. Sigh.
After the chaos that was touring Chenonceau we were able to tour Leonardo da Vinci’s house, Clos De Luce. He lived in a mansion with a secret tunnel to the castle Amboise for the last two years of his life. He was a favorite of several French kings, lastly being Francois I. Francois I used to use the tunnel to visit Da Vinci almost daily. It was a lovely mansion, beautiful gardens, and not crowded at all. Grammy and I were able to take a brief tea & crepe break there which was much needed.
It was then on to our last castle of the trip, Amboise. Amboise was heavily destroyed during Napoleons reign and now what stands is just 1/5 of the former size. It was very pretty, but I think Grammy and I had our fill of castles. 9 castles in all!
We then returned to the apartment and met the owner to see if he could fix the socket and if we would be getting our deposit back. What happened to the socket you may be wondering. Well Grammy did not check to see if her 10 lb (exaggerating) battery charger was dual voltage. Thus when I plugged it into the socket for her, I almost died. Okay exaggerating a bit there. How about a spark and some smoke. I promptly pulled it out and from then on 4 sockets in her room and the bathroom refused to work. We thought it might be the spark plugs so we bought new ones, flipped a bunch of switches, to no avail. Nicolas, the gentleman whose apartment it was did not seem to worried about it although he did mention having to take the socket out and check the wiring… oops. He did give us our deposit back though!
We had a late dinner at a restaurant just down the street from our apartment. We had walked by this restaurant many times during the week and always said that we should go there, well our last night was it! There was a 30 minute wait so we decided to meander down the road to see if we could get a drink first. We entered a brasserie and asked if we could take a seat. We were instructed to enter the back room and take a seat there. I asked the waitress if it was okay to sit there (after we sat down) as we were just having drinks. She said no, but to go to the front room and we could have a drink there. We went to the front room, and took a seat. And were promptly told to move again. Apparently we were at a table with a tablecloth. The table directly next to us did not have a tablecloth; thus apparently no tablecloth equals drinks? After sitting at our third table we were really ready for a drink then!
At the appointed time we made our way back to the restaurant and were seated in the verrrryyyy quiet back room. We did sound a bit like a herd of American elephants entering, scraping chairs on the floor and such. Grammy said “Well we have made our entrance!” Upon perusing the menu how excited was I when I realized they had a prix fix menu for vegetarians! Quel surprise! Complete with a cereal steak! (This means a steak made of grains) My opening course was a goat cheese and tomato dish that was lovely.
Me: How is your duck pate Gram?
Gram: It is wonderful. This fresh bread they brought us goes wonderful with it. How is your dish?
Me: Fantastic but I think they have added some cream to it.
Gram: (Very loudly) Uh ohh you better take an immodium.
Ah Gram. After the cereal steak it was time to order dessert. I ordered an apple tart and was trying to explain to the waitress that I wanted sorbet with it instead of ice cream. I was then telling her that I was allergic to cow milk. The waitress kept repeating “Caww meelk?” as she didn’t understand what I was saying, so Gram pipes in with a very large MOOOOO. I then instructed Gram she is not allowed to moo in restaurants. She thought it was hilarious.
All in all it was a fantastic meal and a perfect way to end our 9 days in Blois, of which I have many fond memories.
The next morning it was time for a day of traveling. With 100+ lbs of baggage.
Grammy and I first took the train from Blois to Paris; while on the train the officers checked our tickets. The officer who entered our compartment entered into a long discussion with the gentlemen next to us en francais of course. The gentle men next to us were in the military and thusly had received a military discount but had to show their military id’s. One of them forgot his, and had to pay an extra 90 euros!
When Grammy and I exited the train I asked her if she had understood what was going on and she guessed correctly. Good job Grammy interpreting the French! Her response? “I don’t read mystery books for nothin’ you know.” (:
The train was late arriving in Paris giving us 15 minutes to catch the next one to Marseille. After I carried beaucoup des baggages off the train I stood under the train schedule not understanding why our train was not on there. After consulting the tickets it stated that we were leaving out of a different station! Qeuel horreur! Upon exiting the 1st train station we saw a sign for the other which said 1 minute. Hah! Two people with a combined age of 107 + over 100 lbs of baggage does not mean we were moving at our top speed! We walked as fast as we could and made it to the station, after I realized which track it was on and that it was departing in less than one minute it was time for panic mode. I started running towards the train with the conductor blowing his whistle and me waving franticly with Grammy trailing me. He was waving me in the door, I turned around and told Grammy to run like she has never ran. Okay maybe I just said “Grammy run!” Boy Grammy can run for a 75 year old! As soon as she entered the door it closed behind her and we were off! Whew!
On the TGV there is assigned seating and we have been lucky enough to get the seats downwind of the broken toilet. Gross. Train officer is cute though and as he walked by he smiled at me which prompted Grammy to go into multiple eyebrow lifting mode.
After we arrive in Marseille it is then on to Cassis which is our final destination. I was reading the reviews of our hotel online last night and a lot of them mention a rather unfriendly woman at the desk. Something to look forward to!
On Saturday we went to the public market. Wow was that a sight to behold. Of course there was the expected fruit and vegetable stands, boulangerie stands with their wide array of baked goods, and cheese stands with more goat cheese than I could eat in a year. What we didn’t expect was the mattress stand, the lingerie stands, and the “sell whatever you have lying around your house” stands. It was quite the interesting experience. We purchased wonderful food for dinner that evening and lunch for the next couple of days.
On Sunday we had tickets for a chateau excursion that left from the town of Tours. We had to take a train from Blois to Tours, as we had for our previous two excursions out of Tours. I did not check the train schedule until mid morning and lo and behold they have limited trains on Sundays! Uh oh. Thus I had to call the tourist office who we booked through to see if we could reschedule the excursion to Monday as we would not be able to make it. The woman informed me that the tour guide stated he had to turn people away for our seats so we may have to eat the money. These excursions are not cheap and thus enter me freaking out. The woman at the tourist office instructed me to call back at 12:30 to check if we could get on the tour tomorrow.
Grammy and I decided to travel in the opposite direction to the city of Orleans to see what Orleans had going on. Well they have a massive cathedral. And when I say massive, whoa do I mean massive. This is the kind of cathedral that could really scare you into believing in something! Very gothic, very beautiful, very imposing.
My telephone call to the tourist office occurred at 12:40 after we departed the train when I listened to a message stating they were closed between 12:30-2:30 for lunch. Seriously. I called back at 2:30, was told we would not be able to get on the tour, and then I pulled out a wee bit of complaining, she called the tour operator back and instructed us to show up on Monday at the instructed time and “hopefully” we would get on the bus.
Aside from the cathedral we didn’t find much to Orleans and headed back to Blois as there was a free renaissance music that evening in front of the castle. Our trip back to the train station was eventful in that we decided to shorten our walking time by hopping on the light rail. While waiting for the light rail I met an Irish woman who had just moved to France. Ahhh Ireland! It made me quite wistful upon hearing her accent. After we boarded the light rail it took me approximately 5 seconds to realize it was going the wrong way. Oops! Grammy and I lengthened our walking time by a bit but we had a laugh about it later. Always something to laugh about after the fact!
Blois is a lovely town and during the summer they have a large amount of free summer concerts and festivities that we enjoyed partaking in. The renaissance music was beautiful, but a bit sleep inducing. Post music it was back to the apartment to make dinner and pack up our belongings as we would not have time on Monday.
Monday morning we got up early to do some last minute shopping in Blois, until we realized that everything except the post office and mobile phone store are closed in Blois on Monday. Literally everything. Thus we decided to head to Tours early, and we did indeed make it onto the excursion. We were able to see the most visited chateau in the Loire valley (of which there are 1,000 chateaus) Chenonceau. This chateau is quite beautiful. And completely overrun with tourists! Approximately 6,000 tourist go through that chateau per day in the height of the summer season. Wowza. Grammy and I up until this point hadn’t seen barely any Americans, well we saw and heard them here. Sigh.
After the chaos that was touring Chenonceau we were able to tour Leonardo da Vinci’s house, Clos De Luce. He lived in a mansion with a secret tunnel to the castle Amboise for the last two years of his life. He was a favorite of several French kings, lastly being Francois I. Francois I used to use the tunnel to visit Da Vinci almost daily. It was a lovely mansion, beautiful gardens, and not crowded at all. Grammy and I were able to take a brief tea & crepe break there which was much needed.
It was then on to our last castle of the trip, Amboise. Amboise was heavily destroyed during Napoleons reign and now what stands is just 1/5 of the former size. It was very pretty, but I think Grammy and I had our fill of castles. 9 castles in all!
We then returned to the apartment and met the owner to see if he could fix the socket and if we would be getting our deposit back. What happened to the socket you may be wondering. Well Grammy did not check to see if her 10 lb (exaggerating) battery charger was dual voltage. Thus when I plugged it into the socket for her, I almost died. Okay exaggerating a bit there. How about a spark and some smoke. I promptly pulled it out and from then on 4 sockets in her room and the bathroom refused to work. We thought it might be the spark plugs so we bought new ones, flipped a bunch of switches, to no avail. Nicolas, the gentleman whose apartment it was did not seem to worried about it although he did mention having to take the socket out and check the wiring… oops. He did give us our deposit back though!
We had a late dinner at a restaurant just down the street from our apartment. We had walked by this restaurant many times during the week and always said that we should go there, well our last night was it! There was a 30 minute wait so we decided to meander down the road to see if we could get a drink first. We entered a brasserie and asked if we could take a seat. We were instructed to enter the back room and take a seat there. I asked the waitress if it was okay to sit there (after we sat down) as we were just having drinks. She said no, but to go to the front room and we could have a drink there. We went to the front room, and took a seat. And were promptly told to move again. Apparently we were at a table with a tablecloth. The table directly next to us did not have a tablecloth; thus apparently no tablecloth equals drinks? After sitting at our third table we were really ready for a drink then!
At the appointed time we made our way back to the restaurant and were seated in the verrrryyyy quiet back room. We did sound a bit like a herd of American elephants entering, scraping chairs on the floor and such. Grammy said “Well we have made our entrance!” Upon perusing the menu how excited was I when I realized they had a prix fix menu for vegetarians! Quel surprise! Complete with a cereal steak! (This means a steak made of grains) My opening course was a goat cheese and tomato dish that was lovely.
Me: How is your duck pate Gram?
Gram: It is wonderful. This fresh bread they brought us goes wonderful with it. How is your dish?
Me: Fantastic but I think they have added some cream to it.
Gram: (Very loudly) Uh ohh you better take an immodium.
Ah Gram. After the cereal steak it was time to order dessert. I ordered an apple tart and was trying to explain to the waitress that I wanted sorbet with it instead of ice cream. I was then telling her that I was allergic to cow milk. The waitress kept repeating “Caww meelk?” as she didn’t understand what I was saying, so Gram pipes in with a very large MOOOOO. I then instructed Gram she is not allowed to moo in restaurants. She thought it was hilarious.
All in all it was a fantastic meal and a perfect way to end our 9 days in Blois, of which I have many fond memories.
The next morning it was time for a day of traveling. With 100+ lbs of baggage.
Grammy and I first took the train from Blois to Paris; while on the train the officers checked our tickets. The officer who entered our compartment entered into a long discussion with the gentlemen next to us en francais of course. The gentle men next to us were in the military and thusly had received a military discount but had to show their military id’s. One of them forgot his, and had to pay an extra 90 euros!
When Grammy and I exited the train I asked her if she had understood what was going on and she guessed correctly. Good job Grammy interpreting the French! Her response? “I don’t read mystery books for nothin’ you know.” (:
The train was late arriving in Paris giving us 15 minutes to catch the next one to Marseille. After I carried beaucoup des baggages off the train I stood under the train schedule not understanding why our train was not on there. After consulting the tickets it stated that we were leaving out of a different station! Qeuel horreur! Upon exiting the 1st train station we saw a sign for the other which said 1 minute. Hah! Two people with a combined age of 107 + over 100 lbs of baggage does not mean we were moving at our top speed! We walked as fast as we could and made it to the station, after I realized which track it was on and that it was departing in less than one minute it was time for panic mode. I started running towards the train with the conductor blowing his whistle and me waving franticly with Grammy trailing me. He was waving me in the door, I turned around and told Grammy to run like she has never ran. Okay maybe I just said “Grammy run!” Boy Grammy can run for a 75 year old! As soon as she entered the door it closed behind her and we were off! Whew!
On the TGV there is assigned seating and we have been lucky enough to get the seats downwind of the broken toilet. Gross. Train officer is cute though and as he walked by he smiled at me which prompted Grammy to go into multiple eyebrow lifting mode.
After we arrive in Marseille it is then on to Cassis which is our final destination. I was reading the reviews of our hotel online last night and a lot of them mention a rather unfriendly woman at the desk. Something to look forward to!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Castles, Castles, and More Castles
I think I may have had my fill of castles. Hah! As of today, Saturday Grammy and I have seen seven castles. Whoa. We have plans to see two more tomorrow as well as a wine tasting and then we are finished with castles! Yesterday we did an afternoon tour of two including one that inspired the “Sleeping Beauty” story. Grammy and I thought they were both beautiful but the tour guide was waxing poetic about them and we were like “They were nice.” Nice. The first day we were in awe. Second day still impressed. Now we are like “Yeah that’s nice.” Such is the case when you see nothing but castles.
Today we walked around our town, Blois which had a fantastic farmers market. It was a bit odd though as amidst all of the produce there were stands selling bras and mattresses. Bras and mattresses along with your produce? Whoa. We purchased some amazing fruits and vegetables including kale and potatoes for dinner. The doughnut peaches here are to die for as well as the bread. But of course! I can eat a whole loaf in a sitting.
Grammy’s thoughts on the market:
“It’s a good thing we don’t have one close to my house like this. Ralphs, Henry’s, and the Persian Market would be out of business. Except for toilet paper. (Said with a chuckle) it is a wonderful place to people watch, I particularly love the cheese and meat vans because they have all of those wonderful fresh products. I like that they are using wood crates, it is awesome to see them. Back in 1955 I used them as bookcases. Jess ordered me an Americano, and I received booze. Awesome.”
Disclaimer: I thought an Americano was espresso with water. Apparently it is Campari over ice. Grammy received a treat at 12:00! We then ordered a “Café Americano” which is what we originally wanted!
Also when we were ordering produce, I managed to order most of it okay with my rudimentary French, no one speaks English in this town except for the people at the tourist office! Grammy wanted to buy garlic at one of the stands, I had no idea what the French word for it was so I asked “Avez vous garleek?” He had no idea what I was talking about. Then Grammy pipes in with “Garleek … Garleek?” No garlic was to be purchased at that stand. But it was funny. Afterwords.
When I bought a melon the woman asks you when you plan on eating it, then individually tests each one to make sure it is the appropriate amount of ripeness. Tres Fantastique! The goat and sheep cheese choices here are astounding, I had difficulty making a choice. As were the mushrooms, they look delectable, can’t wait to dig into those.
Now Grammy and I are enjoying tea and people watching while this afternoon I will be off to tour some churches.
Grammy’s thoughts on the castles over the past few days:
“It is wondrous to behold that individuals had as much money, sense of history, and ego to build these monuments to themselves. The fact that we can walk in the halls 500 years later and fancy how it must have been at that time is magical. Oh and I looked in the phonebook here for a De Noux; (her maiden name) couldn’t find any.”
Note: My most awesome moment was being in the same chapel that Joan of Arc prayed in prior to going to battle. Talk about walking in the footsteps of history!
Looking forward to traveling to the South of France on Tuesday, then meeting up with 19 friends and family members next weekend!
Today we walked around our town, Blois which had a fantastic farmers market. It was a bit odd though as amidst all of the produce there were stands selling bras and mattresses. Bras and mattresses along with your produce? Whoa. We purchased some amazing fruits and vegetables including kale and potatoes for dinner. The doughnut peaches here are to die for as well as the bread. But of course! I can eat a whole loaf in a sitting.
Grammy’s thoughts on the market:
“It’s a good thing we don’t have one close to my house like this. Ralphs, Henry’s, and the Persian Market would be out of business. Except for toilet paper. (Said with a chuckle) it is a wonderful place to people watch, I particularly love the cheese and meat vans because they have all of those wonderful fresh products. I like that they are using wood crates, it is awesome to see them. Back in 1955 I used them as bookcases. Jess ordered me an Americano, and I received booze. Awesome.”
Disclaimer: I thought an Americano was espresso with water. Apparently it is Campari over ice. Grammy received a treat at 12:00! We then ordered a “Café Americano” which is what we originally wanted!
Also when we were ordering produce, I managed to order most of it okay with my rudimentary French, no one speaks English in this town except for the people at the tourist office! Grammy wanted to buy garlic at one of the stands, I had no idea what the French word for it was so I asked “Avez vous garleek?” He had no idea what I was talking about. Then Grammy pipes in with “Garleek … Garleek?” No garlic was to be purchased at that stand. But it was funny. Afterwords.
When I bought a melon the woman asks you when you plan on eating it, then individually tests each one to make sure it is the appropriate amount of ripeness. Tres Fantastique! The goat and sheep cheese choices here are astounding, I had difficulty making a choice. As were the mushrooms, they look delectable, can’t wait to dig into those.
Now Grammy and I are enjoying tea and people watching while this afternoon I will be off to tour some churches.
Grammy’s thoughts on the castles over the past few days:
“It is wondrous to behold that individuals had as much money, sense of history, and ego to build these monuments to themselves. The fact that we can walk in the halls 500 years later and fancy how it must have been at that time is magical. Oh and I looked in the phonebook here for a De Noux; (her maiden name) couldn’t find any.”
Note: My most awesome moment was being in the same chapel that Joan of Arc prayed in prior to going to battle. Talk about walking in the footsteps of history!
Looking forward to traveling to the South of France on Tuesday, then meeting up with 19 friends and family members next weekend!
It's Not Easy Being Green...
Rather than continue with the “We did this, then we did that….” I have to go on a rant here.
Having just finished the book “Sleeping Naked is Green” this has encouraged my green pondering. Said book is about a woman who is not really green at all who decides to change her life after watching “An Inconvenient Truth.” She decides to make one green change per day for a year from turning off her fridge to selling her car. Obviously those are huge changes but she also makes small ones like using handkerchiefs instead of Kleenex and all natural makeup. This book was great, put a human touch on the challenge one takes on in being “green.” As a somewhat new “greenie” I could totally relate to her book. The challenges one faces when a lifestyle shift is made, and the guilt associated with it. For example in public bathrooms, should I use paper towels or the hand dryer? The woman in the book decided to forgo both, which is what I am trying to do, but darn it all those paper towels feel so good!
Trash. Many of you that know me know that I pick up trash on a regular basis when walking around my neighborhood. But on this trip I have seen such inordinate amounts of trash like in Cork, I didn’t even start picking it up as I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry it all. Every time I pass by a piece of trash on the street I question “Should I pick that up? How dirty do you think it is? Is it recyclable? Will a fish be eating it soon? When will I be able to wash my hands again?” All this over a piece of trash. Sometimes I just walk on by because it is so exhausting and I know once I start, I can’t stop. When I was hiking with my Swiss friend Rachel we started picking up trash, before you knew it we had three bags worth. Then once the bags are full we encounter, do we keep picking it up? What about cigarette boxes that have been rained on? I know the plastic won’t biodegrade but the paper will.
Also what about all of these people in France and Ireland that blatantly toss their cigarette butts in front of me? I have only picked up one, but the ferry driver on Rathlin Island that tossed his butt into the water still haunts me. Obviously I am not going to say anything to people in both countries as it is not my country but it drives me crazy! Maybe I should start an ad campaign with a fish eating a cigarette butt? Think that would stop people? Side note: As I am uploading this at the one internet cafe the cafe owner just tossed his butt on the sidewalk. Ahhhhhh!
Traveling and maintaining ones “green” habits is tough. I still have not figured out how to say “no bag” en francais but I manage a “no sac pas” and they seem to get it. Although yesterday Grammy and I went to a shop advertised as “The Fruitstand” where you are not allowed to touch any of the fruit, you tell the woman what you want and she gets it. She put everything in individual bags! I was going crazy! Obviously I had my cloth sacks but this is the way they do it here.
Today we went to the farmers market and it was plastic bags abound. This happens as well in the farmers markets back at home, and it may be my personal mission to stop it. I know some of you out there are saying “We use them as poop bags.” But poop bags do not biodegrade, thus the greener option is to carry cloth produce sacks and buy cornstarch biodegradable poop bags.
Also the availability of recycling here and in Ireland is pretty disappointing. When we asked the gentleman who we are renting the apartment from where to take the recycling he basically instructed us to wander around town until we find a recycling receptacle which are few and far between. Thus as is the case in many cities one really has to be proactive in their recycling. I thought Europeans were so progressive, looks like my stereotype is just that. A stereotype.
Grammy’s thoughts on being green:
“A lot of work. Causing one to be on the alert and rethink purchases, attitudes, and actions. Being green when traveling requires a great deal of planning before leaving, i.e. reusable plastic containers rather than plastic bags, cloth handkerchiefs instead of paper napkins, and repackaging all of your green products at home to bring with you. I am tired just thinking about this. I have to redo my whole travel checklist, eliminating a lot of things and substituting it with green products. Learn to say ‘No sac, no bags’ in whatever language. Add it to the list of things to learn with ‘Where’s the toilet.’ ”
This experience has really helped me to appreciate my co-op back home. There I have the luxury of not thinking about what I am buying as all of it is organic. Here in the grocery stores I have yet to see any organics. Also once you get used to eating organic boy can you tell a difference. The farm in Northern Ireland had the most amazing delicious produce, and I miss it! People talk about smug environmentalists pushing their ideals on everyone, but it is hard when you read information like how root vegetables carry a higher amount of pesticides like DDT, and then you see your friends and family buying them because the price is right. Where is the balance? Why isn’t our government watching over our health like it should instead of people with the most money like Monsanto?
Irregular rant is over, just know it is not easy being green.
Having just finished the book “Sleeping Naked is Green” this has encouraged my green pondering. Said book is about a woman who is not really green at all who decides to change her life after watching “An Inconvenient Truth.” She decides to make one green change per day for a year from turning off her fridge to selling her car. Obviously those are huge changes but she also makes small ones like using handkerchiefs instead of Kleenex and all natural makeup. This book was great, put a human touch on the challenge one takes on in being “green.” As a somewhat new “greenie” I could totally relate to her book. The challenges one faces when a lifestyle shift is made, and the guilt associated with it. For example in public bathrooms, should I use paper towels or the hand dryer? The woman in the book decided to forgo both, which is what I am trying to do, but darn it all those paper towels feel so good!
Trash. Many of you that know me know that I pick up trash on a regular basis when walking around my neighborhood. But on this trip I have seen such inordinate amounts of trash like in Cork, I didn’t even start picking it up as I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry it all. Every time I pass by a piece of trash on the street I question “Should I pick that up? How dirty do you think it is? Is it recyclable? Will a fish be eating it soon? When will I be able to wash my hands again?” All this over a piece of trash. Sometimes I just walk on by because it is so exhausting and I know once I start, I can’t stop. When I was hiking with my Swiss friend Rachel we started picking up trash, before you knew it we had three bags worth. Then once the bags are full we encounter, do we keep picking it up? What about cigarette boxes that have been rained on? I know the plastic won’t biodegrade but the paper will.
Also what about all of these people in France and Ireland that blatantly toss their cigarette butts in front of me? I have only picked up one, but the ferry driver on Rathlin Island that tossed his butt into the water still haunts me. Obviously I am not going to say anything to people in both countries as it is not my country but it drives me crazy! Maybe I should start an ad campaign with a fish eating a cigarette butt? Think that would stop people? Side note: As I am uploading this at the one internet cafe the cafe owner just tossed his butt on the sidewalk. Ahhhhhh!
Traveling and maintaining ones “green” habits is tough. I still have not figured out how to say “no bag” en francais but I manage a “no sac pas” and they seem to get it. Although yesterday Grammy and I went to a shop advertised as “The Fruitstand” where you are not allowed to touch any of the fruit, you tell the woman what you want and she gets it. She put everything in individual bags! I was going crazy! Obviously I had my cloth sacks but this is the way they do it here.
Today we went to the farmers market and it was plastic bags abound. This happens as well in the farmers markets back at home, and it may be my personal mission to stop it. I know some of you out there are saying “We use them as poop bags.” But poop bags do not biodegrade, thus the greener option is to carry cloth produce sacks and buy cornstarch biodegradable poop bags.
Also the availability of recycling here and in Ireland is pretty disappointing. When we asked the gentleman who we are renting the apartment from where to take the recycling he basically instructed us to wander around town until we find a recycling receptacle which are few and far between. Thus as is the case in many cities one really has to be proactive in their recycling. I thought Europeans were so progressive, looks like my stereotype is just that. A stereotype.
Grammy’s thoughts on being green:
“A lot of work. Causing one to be on the alert and rethink purchases, attitudes, and actions. Being green when traveling requires a great deal of planning before leaving, i.e. reusable plastic containers rather than plastic bags, cloth handkerchiefs instead of paper napkins, and repackaging all of your green products at home to bring with you. I am tired just thinking about this. I have to redo my whole travel checklist, eliminating a lot of things and substituting it with green products. Learn to say ‘No sac, no bags’ in whatever language. Add it to the list of things to learn with ‘Where’s the toilet.’ ”
This experience has really helped me to appreciate my co-op back home. There I have the luxury of not thinking about what I am buying as all of it is organic. Here in the grocery stores I have yet to see any organics. Also once you get used to eating organic boy can you tell a difference. The farm in Northern Ireland had the most amazing delicious produce, and I miss it! People talk about smug environmentalists pushing their ideals on everyone, but it is hard when you read information like how root vegetables carry a higher amount of pesticides like DDT, and then you see your friends and family buying them because the price is right. Where is the balance? Why isn’t our government watching over our health like it should instead of people with the most money like Monsanto?
Irregular rant is over, just know it is not easy being green.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
First three days en France
Sunday morning after 3.5 hours of sleep I was up and off to France. As previously mentioned the reason I booked my specific hostel was to have the free airport bus. On the information the hostel gave out it said that it left at 5 am and took 30 minutes. Ah hindsight how you truly are 20/20! For some really inane reason I did not look at my flight information until I was on said bus. All along I had been thinking that my flight left at 7:25. Well actually Grammy’s flight arrived in Paris at 7:25. So there I am on the bus and it is running quite late as it stopped at like 5 hotels to pick up passengers. The girl in front of me was flying to Copenhagen and was supposed to leave at 6:40, at this point it was 5:40 and she was freaking out. I then started to have a wee bit of a panic as I had not checked in online and I started to wonder if they would give my seat away. I looked at my reservation via my email and lo and behold I was leaving at 7! Okay now I started to freak out wondering what kind of immigration lines I would have to be standing in and how long that would take. We arrived at the airport at 5:55, a dash to the terminal then ensued. Aer lingus is a massive airline; you had to look at a huge departures board to find out what line to stand in. Granted I attempted to check in via the computer self serve terminals but it directed me to the really looong line. Once I was in the correct line I was really panicking as it was 6:00 by this point and the security line was ever growing in front of my eyes. At 6:10 I heard an announcement overhead that it was last call for check in for my flight to Paris and to come to desk 501. I jumped out of line and ran to the desk. Now this is what I love about the Irish. Yes, I had been up at 3:30 weighing my bag to keep it under 20 kilos, but I had also heard how relaxed they are about the weight so I knew it was a bit over. When I put it on the scale it was 22 kilos. In America they would have instructed me to take out the 2 kilos… Irish style? No comment, just a sticker stating “Heavy” on it. She gave me my boarding pass and I asked her “Am I going to make it? She informed me I was and I made a mad dash to the security line.
Now this security line was the length of a good ride in Disneyland. Not like the Dumbo ride, more like Magic Mountain. I was really panicking now as it was 6:15; the boarding pass stated that the gate closed at 6:35! I circled around, panicking and panicking, imaging how I was going to have to text Grammy that I missed my flight, would I send her on to Blois alone? 6:32 came along and I made it to the woman who looks at your ID, once again time to compare to America. In America they scan it with a blue light look at you, look back, it is a process. This woman took a cursory glance and sent me on my way. Also no shoes were to be taken off, but umbrellas had to be removed from our bags and one woman had the job of opening them and looking inside. Talk about a job that incurs back luck!
Once I made it through security I RAN to my gate through all of the duty free shopping. Not a glance for tax free Chanel or scotch, I had a plane to catch! Upon arrival at my gate they were still boarding and there was quite a line. Whew!
On the plane I sat next to a lovely woman from Dublin who said she had never seen the lines so long at the airport. She and I got to chatting (big surprise) and I regaled her with stories of my adventures in Ireland. She particularly enjoyed the stories of Sonny the farmer. It was so nice to be sitting next to a friendly Irish woman who was enjoying my stories, made me wistful for the country I was leaving behind.
Alas, France was calling! After I arrived at the airport, jumped through immigration, (all I was asked was if I just arrived… ummm wasn’t I at the airport?) it was off to locate Grammy. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just put a microchip on our relatives, dial up the app on my blackberry, and bam there she is? Needed that yesterday at the castle, but I digress.
After taking the shuttle to her terminal I found her, standing facing the arrivals, even though I arrived at another terminal. (: She was very excited to see me and took a picture of me within 2 minutes. We then set off to purchase our train tickets. After attempting to do it via the machine (darn Europe and their laser credit cards!) we stood in the queue for 20 minutes to speak with a representative. He offered us many options, and we changed our plans on the spot in order to get to the town earlier. We are staying in the Loire Valley in a small town called Blois that is just lovely. Our train ride was about 2 hours and the gentleman who I had rented the apartment from was kind enough to pick us up at the train station.
Prior to the trip Grammy began to have some knee pain, which is not helped by the fact that our apartment is on the third floor. It is a lovely apartment, and the bedrooms are on the fourth floor! We have wonderful windows that open up to let the breeze in and sweeping views of the Loire river on one side and the magnificent castle on the other. Very romantic!
After getting settled in we decided to ramble about town to get some dinner and see if the grocery store was open. Turns out the grocery store is not open on Sundays, so we set that on the agenda for the first thing to do on Monday. We had drinks in the beautiful open square where they were doing public swing dancing lessons. There was a stage set up and people of all ages were partaking! Grammy said if her knee wasn’t bothering her she would for sure be out there, so we appreciated from a distance while enjoying kir petillants.
For dinner we walked to a restaurant that was right on the river and while completely murdering French I managed to order for us. I had a salad with goats cheese and French fries, while Grammy had a salad with meat of some sort on it. It was perfect as we were both so tired.
The next day began with a trip to the grocery store where quell surprise they had soy milk! Hooray! Next to the grocery store is a boulangerie that might just make the world’s most amazing almond croissant. Post grocery store trip I dropped the groceries off and it was off to the Blois Chateau. Otherwise known as the Blois Castle. This is a serious castle! We were provided with a self guided tour pamphlet and it was off to explore. The castle is huge, 3 floors built around a square design with the wings being built between the 13th and 17th centuries.
Francois I lived here as well as Catherine De Medici and Henry III. It is famously known for the assignation of the Duc de Guise in 1588 as he was trying to usurp the throne. Turns out William the III wasn’t loved by his people too much and was assignated soon after. The castle had magnificent rooms, including Catherine De Medici’s bedchamber which she passed away in on 5 January 1589. There was also a fine arts museum which housed paintings and sculptures from the 16th to 19th century. Okay tourist information part is over.
Grammy’s impressions of the Blois castle:
“I think it was a good introduction to the splendiferous opalescence to come. I particularly liked the entrance with the statue of whoever that was. I was sad to see that the gardens were no longer, And I don’t remember the first day now.” (Note I asked her this on the third day, note to self ask the evening of as all the castles start to look alike!)
What I really kept thinking as I was walking throughout these opulent rooms is what a stark contrast to Ireland. In Ireland nothing that I saw was opulent and it just seemed more real. Here there are these fantastical castles, but who really lived in them? A select group of people while the majority of the population was hungry. (Not the case now of course) Ah well I know I should not compare, but traveling in Ireland just seemed so much easier, maybe it was because the people are so friendly and I spoke the language. Grammy says that I should go to Italy next as she feels like the people there are quite welcoming, add it to the list!
That evening we had dinner at the apartment, made pasta with zucchini, tomatoes, and mushrooms, it was yummy. Then it was off to bed for a full day on Tuesday of castles.
Tuesday we took a bus which left from our town and went to two castles, Chambord and Cheverny. Now I know that they are selling Chambord everywhere, but nowhere at that castle was there evidence of the drink and the castle being related. Something to Wikipedia when I have the internet! (I am typing these at the apartment as there is only one place in town with wifi!)
Chambord is a humongous castle that is 156 metres long, 56 metres tall, with 77 staircases, 282 fireplaces, and 426 rooms. Basically humongous. It was built for Francis I as a hunting lodge, but he only spent 72 days here. It was his son Henry II and Louis XIV both likewise very fond of hunting who are responsible for making it is what it is today. The French government bought it in 1931 and they have no idea who was the original architect. There are rumors that the original plan was by Leonardo Da Vinci but there is no evidence of this.
Grammy and I took the audio tour of the chateau which was chock full of information. The center staircase was a double helix, thus two staircases that intertwined. The purpose behind this was that two people could ascend or descend the staircases simultaneously and see each other through the windows yet never be on the same staircase at the same time. Apparently to admire from afar?
We ate lunch outside with beautiful views of the chateau and the gardens.
Grammy’s impressions of Chambord:
“Jaw dropping. I got off the bus and went Oh my God. The stone and the cleanliness of the stone reminded me of the Getty Museum in Los Angeles due to the beautiful white limestone that was used. The majesty of the double helix stairway; I could envision people passing each other going up and down that stairway in those 13th, 14th, and 15th century dress. After much searching I was able to locate a picture of Francois I and I love it. He has a Basil Rathbone type of quality to his face. I loved the history behind it, and so admire the fact that most of the visitors were French.” PS “My tootsies hurt.”
Post lunch it was off to our second chateau of the day, Cheverny. This chateau is still in private use and has been in the Hurault family for over 6 centuries. They have over a hundred French hounds on the grounds and we saw 50 of them within an outside kennel.
Cheverny was crowded, we arrived at about 3:00 pm and it was packed. You can only tour around 15 rooms and it is all via a path divided by ropes so it is almost like you are cattle being herded through. We had a couple in front of us that were videotaping each room, much to Grammy’s chagrin. (:
Interesting facts learned via the handout given at this chateau:
It was Louis XV who decided to place table forks with their prongs facing downwards as he was tired of snagging lace on his sleeves. It was the unconventional Charles X who decided to put glasses on the table as he could no longer tolerate having servants standing behind each guest eavesdropping on conversations.
There were beautiful gardens, including a kitchen garden, which I enjoyed identifying all of the plants and vegetables that I had been so one on one with on my farms. Grammy got some good ideas for her garden at home! Also there was a fantastic gift shop. Christmas gifts were purchased!
Grammy’s impressions of Cheverny:
“Of the three chateaus that we have seen so far, I could totally pack my bag and move in there. There are several pieces of small furniture that I could take out of there and bring home with me. A comfortable gracious home with lovely gardens and the kitchen garden was to die for. But I want the gardener to go with the kitchen garden. I again enjoyed the history of its construction and continued use over the years. The only negative I would say is that it was late afternoon and there were too many people."
That evening we went out to a restaurant near our apartment that was listed as Japanese and Vietnamese food. I ordered the three vegetarian items on the menu. That is correct three vegetarian items. Wow. Life was so much easier when I ate fish!
As we were finishing our meal Grammy was putting forth a good effort into finishing her pork egg rolls with not much success.
Me: Uh Gram you could get a box for those and take those back to the apartment.
Gram: No, they don’t do take out here.
Me: Says who?
Gram: Says all of my guide books!
Thus I asked the server if we could have a container and lo and behold they do let you do take out in France! Hah! (:
Today, Wednesday began with me taking laundry to the laundrymat. WOW Tros cher! 5 euros per wash! Of course I had two loads (light and darks) most expensive laundry ever!
Post laundry it was time to go in search of the farmers market. We never found it, but did find some amazing shopping! Trouble I tell you! Grammy found some good finds as well and some great gifts. We shopped for a few hours and had lunch a cute little café. I had a salad with goats cheese (are you noticing a trend?) and Grammy had a salad with a turkey leg. Literally a turkey leg. I have nothing more to say on that.
Post shopping we retired to the apartment for a nap and an early dinner. Now we are sitting in the central square enjoying drinks watching a band play. It is lovely.
Grammy’s thoughts from day 3:
“I am doing so much walking and climbing; between stairs and cobblestones I am going to lose 10 pounds. Today was a good, relaxing, non stressful frenchie day. But I am not ready to put on a tunic and tights and ballet slippers and go tripping around.”
Now this security line was the length of a good ride in Disneyland. Not like the Dumbo ride, more like Magic Mountain. I was really panicking now as it was 6:15; the boarding pass stated that the gate closed at 6:35! I circled around, panicking and panicking, imaging how I was going to have to text Grammy that I missed my flight, would I send her on to Blois alone? 6:32 came along and I made it to the woman who looks at your ID, once again time to compare to America. In America they scan it with a blue light look at you, look back, it is a process. This woman took a cursory glance and sent me on my way. Also no shoes were to be taken off, but umbrellas had to be removed from our bags and one woman had the job of opening them and looking inside. Talk about a job that incurs back luck!
Once I made it through security I RAN to my gate through all of the duty free shopping. Not a glance for tax free Chanel or scotch, I had a plane to catch! Upon arrival at my gate they were still boarding and there was quite a line. Whew!
On the plane I sat next to a lovely woman from Dublin who said she had never seen the lines so long at the airport. She and I got to chatting (big surprise) and I regaled her with stories of my adventures in Ireland. She particularly enjoyed the stories of Sonny the farmer. It was so nice to be sitting next to a friendly Irish woman who was enjoying my stories, made me wistful for the country I was leaving behind.
Alas, France was calling! After I arrived at the airport, jumped through immigration, (all I was asked was if I just arrived… ummm wasn’t I at the airport?) it was off to locate Grammy. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just put a microchip on our relatives, dial up the app on my blackberry, and bam there she is? Needed that yesterday at the castle, but I digress.
After taking the shuttle to her terminal I found her, standing facing the arrivals, even though I arrived at another terminal. (: She was very excited to see me and took a picture of me within 2 minutes. We then set off to purchase our train tickets. After attempting to do it via the machine (darn Europe and their laser credit cards!) we stood in the queue for 20 minutes to speak with a representative. He offered us many options, and we changed our plans on the spot in order to get to the town earlier. We are staying in the Loire Valley in a small town called Blois that is just lovely. Our train ride was about 2 hours and the gentleman who I had rented the apartment from was kind enough to pick us up at the train station.
Prior to the trip Grammy began to have some knee pain, which is not helped by the fact that our apartment is on the third floor. It is a lovely apartment, and the bedrooms are on the fourth floor! We have wonderful windows that open up to let the breeze in and sweeping views of the Loire river on one side and the magnificent castle on the other. Very romantic!
After getting settled in we decided to ramble about town to get some dinner and see if the grocery store was open. Turns out the grocery store is not open on Sundays, so we set that on the agenda for the first thing to do on Monday. We had drinks in the beautiful open square where they were doing public swing dancing lessons. There was a stage set up and people of all ages were partaking! Grammy said if her knee wasn’t bothering her she would for sure be out there, so we appreciated from a distance while enjoying kir petillants.
For dinner we walked to a restaurant that was right on the river and while completely murdering French I managed to order for us. I had a salad with goats cheese and French fries, while Grammy had a salad with meat of some sort on it. It was perfect as we were both so tired.
The next day began with a trip to the grocery store where quell surprise they had soy milk! Hooray! Next to the grocery store is a boulangerie that might just make the world’s most amazing almond croissant. Post grocery store trip I dropped the groceries off and it was off to the Blois Chateau. Otherwise known as the Blois Castle. This is a serious castle! We were provided with a self guided tour pamphlet and it was off to explore. The castle is huge, 3 floors built around a square design with the wings being built between the 13th and 17th centuries.
Francois I lived here as well as Catherine De Medici and Henry III. It is famously known for the assignation of the Duc de Guise in 1588 as he was trying to usurp the throne. Turns out William the III wasn’t loved by his people too much and was assignated soon after. The castle had magnificent rooms, including Catherine De Medici’s bedchamber which she passed away in on 5 January 1589. There was also a fine arts museum which housed paintings and sculptures from the 16th to 19th century. Okay tourist information part is over.
Grammy’s impressions of the Blois castle:
“I think it was a good introduction to the splendiferous opalescence to come. I particularly liked the entrance with the statue of whoever that was. I was sad to see that the gardens were no longer, And I don’t remember the first day now.” (Note I asked her this on the third day, note to self ask the evening of as all the castles start to look alike!)
What I really kept thinking as I was walking throughout these opulent rooms is what a stark contrast to Ireland. In Ireland nothing that I saw was opulent and it just seemed more real. Here there are these fantastical castles, but who really lived in them? A select group of people while the majority of the population was hungry. (Not the case now of course) Ah well I know I should not compare, but traveling in Ireland just seemed so much easier, maybe it was because the people are so friendly and I spoke the language. Grammy says that I should go to Italy next as she feels like the people there are quite welcoming, add it to the list!
That evening we had dinner at the apartment, made pasta with zucchini, tomatoes, and mushrooms, it was yummy. Then it was off to bed for a full day on Tuesday of castles.
Tuesday we took a bus which left from our town and went to two castles, Chambord and Cheverny. Now I know that they are selling Chambord everywhere, but nowhere at that castle was there evidence of the drink and the castle being related. Something to Wikipedia when I have the internet! (I am typing these at the apartment as there is only one place in town with wifi!)
Chambord is a humongous castle that is 156 metres long, 56 metres tall, with 77 staircases, 282 fireplaces, and 426 rooms. Basically humongous. It was built for Francis I as a hunting lodge, but he only spent 72 days here. It was his son Henry II and Louis XIV both likewise very fond of hunting who are responsible for making it is what it is today. The French government bought it in 1931 and they have no idea who was the original architect. There are rumors that the original plan was by Leonardo Da Vinci but there is no evidence of this.
Grammy and I took the audio tour of the chateau which was chock full of information. The center staircase was a double helix, thus two staircases that intertwined. The purpose behind this was that two people could ascend or descend the staircases simultaneously and see each other through the windows yet never be on the same staircase at the same time. Apparently to admire from afar?
We ate lunch outside with beautiful views of the chateau and the gardens.
Grammy’s impressions of Chambord:
“Jaw dropping. I got off the bus and went Oh my God. The stone and the cleanliness of the stone reminded me of the Getty Museum in Los Angeles due to the beautiful white limestone that was used. The majesty of the double helix stairway; I could envision people passing each other going up and down that stairway in those 13th, 14th, and 15th century dress. After much searching I was able to locate a picture of Francois I and I love it. He has a Basil Rathbone type of quality to his face. I loved the history behind it, and so admire the fact that most of the visitors were French.” PS “My tootsies hurt.”
Post lunch it was off to our second chateau of the day, Cheverny. This chateau is still in private use and has been in the Hurault family for over 6 centuries. They have over a hundred French hounds on the grounds and we saw 50 of them within an outside kennel.
Cheverny was crowded, we arrived at about 3:00 pm and it was packed. You can only tour around 15 rooms and it is all via a path divided by ropes so it is almost like you are cattle being herded through. We had a couple in front of us that were videotaping each room, much to Grammy’s chagrin. (:
Interesting facts learned via the handout given at this chateau:
It was Louis XV who decided to place table forks with their prongs facing downwards as he was tired of snagging lace on his sleeves. It was the unconventional Charles X who decided to put glasses on the table as he could no longer tolerate having servants standing behind each guest eavesdropping on conversations.
There were beautiful gardens, including a kitchen garden, which I enjoyed identifying all of the plants and vegetables that I had been so one on one with on my farms. Grammy got some good ideas for her garden at home! Also there was a fantastic gift shop. Christmas gifts were purchased!
Grammy’s impressions of Cheverny:
“Of the three chateaus that we have seen so far, I could totally pack my bag and move in there. There are several pieces of small furniture that I could take out of there and bring home with me. A comfortable gracious home with lovely gardens and the kitchen garden was to die for. But I want the gardener to go with the kitchen garden. I again enjoyed the history of its construction and continued use over the years. The only negative I would say is that it was late afternoon and there were too many people."
That evening we went out to a restaurant near our apartment that was listed as Japanese and Vietnamese food. I ordered the three vegetarian items on the menu. That is correct three vegetarian items. Wow. Life was so much easier when I ate fish!
As we were finishing our meal Grammy was putting forth a good effort into finishing her pork egg rolls with not much success.
Me: Uh Gram you could get a box for those and take those back to the apartment.
Gram: No, they don’t do take out here.
Me: Says who?
Gram: Says all of my guide books!
Thus I asked the server if we could have a container and lo and behold they do let you do take out in France! Hah! (:
Today, Wednesday began with me taking laundry to the laundrymat. WOW Tros cher! 5 euros per wash! Of course I had two loads (light and darks) most expensive laundry ever!
Post laundry it was time to go in search of the farmers market. We never found it, but did find some amazing shopping! Trouble I tell you! Grammy found some good finds as well and some great gifts. We shopped for a few hours and had lunch a cute little café. I had a salad with goats cheese (are you noticing a trend?) and Grammy had a salad with a turkey leg. Literally a turkey leg. I have nothing more to say on that.
Post shopping we retired to the apartment for a nap and an early dinner. Now we are sitting in the central square enjoying drinks watching a band play. It is lovely.
Grammy’s thoughts from day 3:
“I am doing so much walking and climbing; between stairs and cobblestones I am going to lose 10 pounds. Today was a good, relaxing, non stressful frenchie day. But I am not ready to put on a tunic and tights and ballet slippers and go tripping around.”
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Last Days in Dublin
Upon arriving in Dublin I checked in at my hostel which was quite garish looking called “Paddy’s palace.” I did not take pictures of it but imagine a huge grinning leprechaun complete with pipe on the side of a building. Some of you may be wondering what would possess me to stay at said hostel. Three words. Free airport shuttle. When I made the reservations online the only thing available was a 12 bed dorm, umm not looking for 11 new friends at this point so upon inquiry at the front desk I was able to secure a 4 bed dorm that for my first night was empty! Hooray! Push button showers? So not hooray.
After checking in it was time to do some serious shopping. I needed a suitcase as I knew there was no way my backpack was under 20 kilos (44 lbs) which was the weight restrictions set forth by Aer Lingus. Darn Dublin and your shopping! I enter the store to buy one suitcase and what do I leave with? More skinny jeans! When they are 11 euro I just can’t help myself, despite almost having an aneurysm trying to get them off in the dressing room.
Post shopping I left my bags at the hostel and toured Trinity College. I figured I had to see the Book of Kells as everyone else has done it so why shouldn’t I? The tour was really interesting, led by a graduate student who was quick with the Irish humor that I have come to quite enjoy. During the tour we saw a wedding party leaving the chapel and our tour guide informed us that only graduates can get married there and you only have 5 years post graduation to get married there. No pressure there! He said that the food in the food hall was so poor that when he was preparing to go to India last year he ate there for a month to prep his stomach. (:
The book of Kells was interesting and beautiful, but to me not so exciting as you can only see it open to one page. Apparently last year Trinity lent the book to Australia for an exhibition and it was returned damaged, thus it will never be lent out again. When I asked the tour guide what kind of damage it sustained he said that they spilled liquid on it and didn’t pack it properly for shipping. Yikes!
After touring Trinity I returned to the hostel, made a dinner of pasta and headed out for my final pub crawl. Now when I had been in Dublin on previous visits I went on two different pub crawls, a literary one and a musical one. They were full of interesting people and interesting things to be learned. NOTE: the “Backpackers” pub crawl does not fall in that category. We met at the entrance to Trinity College and after I paid I realized I was the oldest person in the group. By ten years. Wow. Some of you reading this may be thinking “Goodness did she really need to go on another pub crawl?” My thought was it was a good way to meet people, I didn’t realize the people going on it were going with the sole intention of getting as inebriated as possible.
Our guide was a young guy who took us to 5 bars, and one of them was really enjoyable. There was live music playing that was great, three guys with guitars singing traditional Irish tunes. I asked the proprietor what was playing the following evening, he replied it was (insert Irish male name here) and that he was fantastic. At least I figured out my plans for the following evening!
I asked the leader of our pub crawl what was the most memorable pub crawl he has ever done and boy did he have a whopper of a story. Apparently one evening he and 3 other guides were all running pub crawls. He had a bachelor party from Ireland, another guide had a bachelorette party from Scotland, and the third guide had people who were general public, like our group that evening. At the end of the evening they always end at a nightclub so the guides arranged to have everyone show up at the same time to get them all in at once. Well apparently the bachelor and bachelorette took a liking to each other and went to his hotel room! So sad.
When we ended the night at a dance club I quickly made my escape and returned to my hotel. It was up early the next day for my last day in Dublin as I had a lot of things on my itinerary. After a quick breakfast at the hotel it was off to my day. I began at the Georgian House museum which was just beautiful. It is a 5 story restored Georgian house with period furniture that was just lovely and truly gave you a glimpse into what life was like back then, from the servants lives to the owners of the home. The tour guide was really informative and full of interesting facts; for example when they used to have balls the people at the balls would parade around the room being very close to the windows so that the people on the street would see them and be envious! Wow.
Post Georgian house it was a quick jaunt through the National Gallery which housed an impressive collection of art. I particularly enjoyed the Irish 20th Century art. It truly portrayed the people of Ireland, and the scenery of which I have come to love. After the museum I rambled through Merrion Square park which was just lovely, complete with an Oscar Wilde statue. I then went on to St Stephens Green which I had heard about during the 1916 tour. It is a beautiful park, complete with a lake with ducks and swans. Hard to imagine rebels shooting where I was standing. On the weekends at St Stephens Green artists sell their art along one wall on the outside of the park, there were some really fantastic paintings. Not so sure I could get them home though.
After the park I went to the Jeanie Johnston which is also known as the “Famine Ship.” This ship is a replica of a ship that took thousands of people to Canada, Baltimore, and New York during the famine years. It was really informative and hard to imagine what those 3 months crossing the sea must have been like. The majority of the passengers were young women between the ages of 16-34. I could not imagine having nothing but the clothes on your back and setting out for a foreign country all alone.
What a full day that was! I then met my new friend Miriam for tea at a lovely place near Grafton Street. I originally met Miriam on the Aran Island of Inis Oirr and we made plans to meet up as she lives just outside of Dublin. We had lovely conversation and so many things in common. It was so nice to meet someone just once, and then have them come out of their way to spend a bit of time with you before you leave their country. Really now it is time for me once again to expound upon how nice most Irish people are. When I told Miriam the story of my Cork welcome she said Irish people are one of two things, nice to a fault or total buggers. (:
My last dinner in Ireland was…. You guessed it pasta at the hostel! Hey I am traveling on a budget! (: I then went out to the pub from the night before to listen to some music. Anton met me there along with an Englishman Dan who I had also met in Glendalough. We shared some great conversation and awaited the music with much hesitation. The musician ambled in, one man with a guitar and I was a bit suspicious as to how this would go. The bar was packed, in the corner next to the musician was a large group of older Irish women ready to sing along. He opened with an Irish rebel song that he practically yelled at the top of his lungs and the whole crown joined along. It was fantastic! After that he took requests and what did the women in the corner want? More rebel songs!
It was such a fantastic way to end my trip, to begin with going to an Orange parade and having no idea what it was about, and ending with Irish rebel songs. I have grown to have such a love for Ireland, and the people, everything that they stand for and their rebel rousing personalities. I was so sad to leave, I felt like I was leaving a place that I could call home. From the welcoming shopkeepers and waitresses to the rolling hills and mountains of Wicklow, this country was amazing and has left its mark on my soul.
After checking in it was time to do some serious shopping. I needed a suitcase as I knew there was no way my backpack was under 20 kilos (44 lbs) which was the weight restrictions set forth by Aer Lingus. Darn Dublin and your shopping! I enter the store to buy one suitcase and what do I leave with? More skinny jeans! When they are 11 euro I just can’t help myself, despite almost having an aneurysm trying to get them off in the dressing room.
Post shopping I left my bags at the hostel and toured Trinity College. I figured I had to see the Book of Kells as everyone else has done it so why shouldn’t I? The tour was really interesting, led by a graduate student who was quick with the Irish humor that I have come to quite enjoy. During the tour we saw a wedding party leaving the chapel and our tour guide informed us that only graduates can get married there and you only have 5 years post graduation to get married there. No pressure there! He said that the food in the food hall was so poor that when he was preparing to go to India last year he ate there for a month to prep his stomach. (:
The book of Kells was interesting and beautiful, but to me not so exciting as you can only see it open to one page. Apparently last year Trinity lent the book to Australia for an exhibition and it was returned damaged, thus it will never be lent out again. When I asked the tour guide what kind of damage it sustained he said that they spilled liquid on it and didn’t pack it properly for shipping. Yikes!
After touring Trinity I returned to the hostel, made a dinner of pasta and headed out for my final pub crawl. Now when I had been in Dublin on previous visits I went on two different pub crawls, a literary one and a musical one. They were full of interesting people and interesting things to be learned. NOTE: the “Backpackers” pub crawl does not fall in that category. We met at the entrance to Trinity College and after I paid I realized I was the oldest person in the group. By ten years. Wow. Some of you reading this may be thinking “Goodness did she really need to go on another pub crawl?” My thought was it was a good way to meet people, I didn’t realize the people going on it were going with the sole intention of getting as inebriated as possible.
Our guide was a young guy who took us to 5 bars, and one of them was really enjoyable. There was live music playing that was great, three guys with guitars singing traditional Irish tunes. I asked the proprietor what was playing the following evening, he replied it was (insert Irish male name here) and that he was fantastic. At least I figured out my plans for the following evening!
I asked the leader of our pub crawl what was the most memorable pub crawl he has ever done and boy did he have a whopper of a story. Apparently one evening he and 3 other guides were all running pub crawls. He had a bachelor party from Ireland, another guide had a bachelorette party from Scotland, and the third guide had people who were general public, like our group that evening. At the end of the evening they always end at a nightclub so the guides arranged to have everyone show up at the same time to get them all in at once. Well apparently the bachelor and bachelorette took a liking to each other and went to his hotel room! So sad.
When we ended the night at a dance club I quickly made my escape and returned to my hotel. It was up early the next day for my last day in Dublin as I had a lot of things on my itinerary. After a quick breakfast at the hotel it was off to my day. I began at the Georgian House museum which was just beautiful. It is a 5 story restored Georgian house with period furniture that was just lovely and truly gave you a glimpse into what life was like back then, from the servants lives to the owners of the home. The tour guide was really informative and full of interesting facts; for example when they used to have balls the people at the balls would parade around the room being very close to the windows so that the people on the street would see them and be envious! Wow.
Post Georgian house it was a quick jaunt through the National Gallery which housed an impressive collection of art. I particularly enjoyed the Irish 20th Century art. It truly portrayed the people of Ireland, and the scenery of which I have come to love. After the museum I rambled through Merrion Square park which was just lovely, complete with an Oscar Wilde statue. I then went on to St Stephens Green which I had heard about during the 1916 tour. It is a beautiful park, complete with a lake with ducks and swans. Hard to imagine rebels shooting where I was standing. On the weekends at St Stephens Green artists sell their art along one wall on the outside of the park, there were some really fantastic paintings. Not so sure I could get them home though.
After the park I went to the Jeanie Johnston which is also known as the “Famine Ship.” This ship is a replica of a ship that took thousands of people to Canada, Baltimore, and New York during the famine years. It was really informative and hard to imagine what those 3 months crossing the sea must have been like. The majority of the passengers were young women between the ages of 16-34. I could not imagine having nothing but the clothes on your back and setting out for a foreign country all alone.
What a full day that was! I then met my new friend Miriam for tea at a lovely place near Grafton Street. I originally met Miriam on the Aran Island of Inis Oirr and we made plans to meet up as she lives just outside of Dublin. We had lovely conversation and so many things in common. It was so nice to meet someone just once, and then have them come out of their way to spend a bit of time with you before you leave their country. Really now it is time for me once again to expound upon how nice most Irish people are. When I told Miriam the story of my Cork welcome she said Irish people are one of two things, nice to a fault or total buggers. (:
My last dinner in Ireland was…. You guessed it pasta at the hostel! Hey I am traveling on a budget! (: I then went out to the pub from the night before to listen to some music. Anton met me there along with an Englishman Dan who I had also met in Glendalough. We shared some great conversation and awaited the music with much hesitation. The musician ambled in, one man with a guitar and I was a bit suspicious as to how this would go. The bar was packed, in the corner next to the musician was a large group of older Irish women ready to sing along. He opened with an Irish rebel song that he practically yelled at the top of his lungs and the whole crown joined along. It was fantastic! After that he took requests and what did the women in the corner want? More rebel songs!
It was such a fantastic way to end my trip, to begin with going to an Orange parade and having no idea what it was about, and ending with Irish rebel songs. I have grown to have such a love for Ireland, and the people, everything that they stand for and their rebel rousing personalities. I was so sad to leave, I felt like I was leaving a place that I could call home. From the welcoming shopkeepers and waitresses to the rolling hills and mountains of Wicklow, this country was amazing and has left its mark on my soul.
Wicklow National Park
I arrived in Glendalough on Wednesday evening after a long day of traveling on two buses. Thanks to the amazing powers of WiFi I was able to complete a lot of blogging en route! The first bus was 3.5 hours from Cork to Dublin, then I had an hour wait in Dublin with my small house on my back. What is one to do whilst waiting? Buy a bottle of wine of course as I knew that the facilities in Glendalough were few and far between. The bus from Dublin to Glendalough was 2 hours and the views were gorgeous. Also it had been raining and Quel surprise! I saw a rainbow outside my bus window. I don’t know about you, but I cannot remember the last time I saw a rainbow, and this one was GIGANTIC. I could see it from end to end over the fields and rolling hills. So beautiful.
Glendalough is pretty basic, it is in a national park and there is a hotel with pub attached, craft shop, tourist information center, and the hostel. This hostel is massive, I believe they had around 150 beds, and they were the most expensive. 23 Euros per night. Breakfast was extra (first place this has been the case) and I declined it as I had bread and butter from Cork with me. It was a true joy to find only one other person in my 6 bed room and she was a lovely young woman from Galway named Eimear.
I was starving so it was off to the kitchen as soon as I arrived to prepare a meal of pasta with butter and tomatoes. Eimear and I enjoyed a bottle of wine post dinner and some lovely craic in our room until midnight. The next day it was up early (8:00am… ah I love vacation!) to try to get a head start on the tourist attractions before all of the buses arrive.
I went to the tourist information center and asked the man behind the desk what hike to take if I was only there for one day. Ah how maps can be deceiving! He did mention it went along the top of the mountain, but I neglected to fully read the brochure which would have told me that I had 600 steps ahead of me! Before the hike I wandered around the ruins of St Kevin’s monastery. This is typically as far as most tourists on buses from Dublin make it when they come to visit. There are several ruins of churches as well as a large tower and a cemetery which is still in use. The ruins are just beautiful to behold, grey stone against a backdrop of green mountains with the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees and birds chirping.
St Kevin was a hermit who came to the Wicklow Mountains in 601 AD to live in a cave near one of the lakes. Glendalough literally means glen of two lakes. Once word caught on that St Kevin had a wee bit of paradise he had other people showing up who wanted to join his party so to speak. Thus the monastery was developed but then the Norman raiders found out about it and routinely sacked the monastery. By 1300 it was sacked for the last time and fell into disrepair. It is now a very highly regarded national monument and many tours come daily from Dublin. The distance is only around 90 minutes so it is a nice day trip. But I digress.
Post monastery touring it was time to set off on my hike. I had come prepared with plenty of water, crisps, an apple, and a sandwich so I was ready for an adventure. The hike started off easy enough, a light ramble up a road with gorgeous views of a waterfall. See Flickr for pictures. At one point in the road I came to a fork. On my right was large planks that had been nailed together to form a footpath. This was covered with imposing looking trees. On my left was my friendly road. Of course I had to take the footpath as the friendly little arrows pointing me on my trail were headed in that direction. I then ascended into the trees and started formulating plans for what to do if a Sasquatch or a scary mountain person came running at me. There were no people to be seen, and so many trees that the sun was obscured. Ah hiking alone! This coupled with the sign saying “WARNING treacherous trails ahead, compass needed” made me feel super safe and confident. I ponder as I hiked… “Does a Blackberry count as a compass?”
I climbed up around 400 steps and reached what I thought was the top of the mountain. The views were amazing. I could see both of the lakes, beautiful mountains, and the monastery ruins in the distance. I had such a feeling of accomplishment… until I looked up the trail and realized I had another peak to climb! Post second peak I felt ALIVE. Okay maybe a bit tired, but amazing. I had a moment of looking around me, surrounded by purple heather and green trees, mountains as far as the eye could see, beautiful valley below me, and just felt thankful. SO thankful that I could be there in that moment, that I could hike a 7 mile trek alone (I know some people hike alone all the time but not this girl!) and that I had been on the most amazing journey to get me to this place. It was one of those moments when you know you will always remember it, and as you turn to head down the mountain you want to linger a bit more, to really make the moment last.
As I headed down the mountain I took a lunch break and observed other hikers along the trail doing the same. So interesting to see people outfitted in hiking gear, and smoking! The hike is a loop so the return is along the opposite sides of the lakes and was a bit of a scramble down large boulders. Post boulder scramble and almost falling flat on my face 3x I walked down a lovely tree covered road. To note: As I almost fell on my face I had visions of a sharp rock leaving me bloody or poking my eye out and me walking the 3.5 miles back to the tourist office looking like a complete idiot. Thank goodness that didn’t happen! (: Also to note: only 3 plastic bottle were to be found on the whole 7 mile stretch! What a wonderful surprise upon leaving trash laden Cork.
As I was walking down the road I was able to see St Kevin’s cave across the water, unfortunately the only way to get there currently is by boat, and currently there are no boats, so alas no spelunking for me. Post hike I returned to the hostel and took a bit of a nap before going out to dinner with my new friend Eimear. We walked to a restaurant in the nearest town that was fantastic. The outside looked like a large Irish cottage and the inside matched it. Dark wood furniture, dark wood paneling on the walls, gabled ceilings, and all sorts of old farm equipment nailed on the rafters. My aperitif was a Bellini, I mean who doesn’t love a Bellini? I just wish they were larger. Oh wait, maybe that is a good thing. (:
I had a goats cheese salad to start followed by homemade parpadelle pasta with mushrooms and spinach. YUM. During the meal we had really great conversation, sharing stories of our lives and experiences. Eimear is a teacher and has traveled all over the world, she had some really great stories of traveling to India and New Zealand. We also discussed religion and compared our experiences of religion in our youth and adult years. It made me really thankful to have such options for different religions as we have in the US, as she pointed out, she only has one, there aren’t a lot of options in Ireland. I told her that there was a Unitarian Church in Dublin but seeing as how she is from Galway, not really a feasible option. She also informed me that there is a large number of illegal Irish immigrants in the US. I had no idea! She said during the Clinton administration there were 80,000. She has known several people that have done it, and then had to return to Ireland to visit family or friends and not been able to return to the states. Including people that have business and houses. I have a different picture in my mind when one says the term “illegal immigrant” and now my horizons have widened.
This is what I love about traveling; meeting people sharing your experiences and your lives, not only have I learned so much about this wonderful country and the people within, it has also given me a new perspective on my own country and my views of it. After our sumptuous dinner the restaurant offered us a free glass of Bailey’s and who are we to say no to that? It was lovely. We then walked back towards our hostel stopping at the pub at the hotel for a drink. The pub had about 3 people in it and one drink was all that was consumed as we were both exhausted. Upon entering the hostel who did I see by one of my new friends from Dingle (originally from Holland, met him at the hostel in Dingle) Anton! Quel surprise! Upon talking to people in Ireland, this happens all the time. Anton and I had a cup of tea and shared stories of our travels since leaving Dingle.
It was up early the next morning to take the bus to Dublin for my last two nights in Dublin. I said goodbye to Eimear and am hoping she will come visit me in the states. Anton was planning on coming to Dublin in a day so we made plans to tentatively meet up.
Glendalough is pretty basic, it is in a national park and there is a hotel with pub attached, craft shop, tourist information center, and the hostel. This hostel is massive, I believe they had around 150 beds, and they were the most expensive. 23 Euros per night. Breakfast was extra (first place this has been the case) and I declined it as I had bread and butter from Cork with me. It was a true joy to find only one other person in my 6 bed room and she was a lovely young woman from Galway named Eimear.
I was starving so it was off to the kitchen as soon as I arrived to prepare a meal of pasta with butter and tomatoes. Eimear and I enjoyed a bottle of wine post dinner and some lovely craic in our room until midnight. The next day it was up early (8:00am… ah I love vacation!) to try to get a head start on the tourist attractions before all of the buses arrive.
I went to the tourist information center and asked the man behind the desk what hike to take if I was only there for one day. Ah how maps can be deceiving! He did mention it went along the top of the mountain, but I neglected to fully read the brochure which would have told me that I had 600 steps ahead of me! Before the hike I wandered around the ruins of St Kevin’s monastery. This is typically as far as most tourists on buses from Dublin make it when they come to visit. There are several ruins of churches as well as a large tower and a cemetery which is still in use. The ruins are just beautiful to behold, grey stone against a backdrop of green mountains with the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees and birds chirping.
St Kevin was a hermit who came to the Wicklow Mountains in 601 AD to live in a cave near one of the lakes. Glendalough literally means glen of two lakes. Once word caught on that St Kevin had a wee bit of paradise he had other people showing up who wanted to join his party so to speak. Thus the monastery was developed but then the Norman raiders found out about it and routinely sacked the monastery. By 1300 it was sacked for the last time and fell into disrepair. It is now a very highly regarded national monument and many tours come daily from Dublin. The distance is only around 90 minutes so it is a nice day trip. But I digress.
Post monastery touring it was time to set off on my hike. I had come prepared with plenty of water, crisps, an apple, and a sandwich so I was ready for an adventure. The hike started off easy enough, a light ramble up a road with gorgeous views of a waterfall. See Flickr for pictures. At one point in the road I came to a fork. On my right was large planks that had been nailed together to form a footpath. This was covered with imposing looking trees. On my left was my friendly road. Of course I had to take the footpath as the friendly little arrows pointing me on my trail were headed in that direction. I then ascended into the trees and started formulating plans for what to do if a Sasquatch or a scary mountain person came running at me. There were no people to be seen, and so many trees that the sun was obscured. Ah hiking alone! This coupled with the sign saying “WARNING treacherous trails ahead, compass needed” made me feel super safe and confident. I ponder as I hiked… “Does a Blackberry count as a compass?”
I climbed up around 400 steps and reached what I thought was the top of the mountain. The views were amazing. I could see both of the lakes, beautiful mountains, and the monastery ruins in the distance. I had such a feeling of accomplishment… until I looked up the trail and realized I had another peak to climb! Post second peak I felt ALIVE. Okay maybe a bit tired, but amazing. I had a moment of looking around me, surrounded by purple heather and green trees, mountains as far as the eye could see, beautiful valley below me, and just felt thankful. SO thankful that I could be there in that moment, that I could hike a 7 mile trek alone (I know some people hike alone all the time but not this girl!) and that I had been on the most amazing journey to get me to this place. It was one of those moments when you know you will always remember it, and as you turn to head down the mountain you want to linger a bit more, to really make the moment last.
As I headed down the mountain I took a lunch break and observed other hikers along the trail doing the same. So interesting to see people outfitted in hiking gear, and smoking! The hike is a loop so the return is along the opposite sides of the lakes and was a bit of a scramble down large boulders. Post boulder scramble and almost falling flat on my face 3x I walked down a lovely tree covered road. To note: As I almost fell on my face I had visions of a sharp rock leaving me bloody or poking my eye out and me walking the 3.5 miles back to the tourist office looking like a complete idiot. Thank goodness that didn’t happen! (: Also to note: only 3 plastic bottle were to be found on the whole 7 mile stretch! What a wonderful surprise upon leaving trash laden Cork.
As I was walking down the road I was able to see St Kevin’s cave across the water, unfortunately the only way to get there currently is by boat, and currently there are no boats, so alas no spelunking for me. Post hike I returned to the hostel and took a bit of a nap before going out to dinner with my new friend Eimear. We walked to a restaurant in the nearest town that was fantastic. The outside looked like a large Irish cottage and the inside matched it. Dark wood furniture, dark wood paneling on the walls, gabled ceilings, and all sorts of old farm equipment nailed on the rafters. My aperitif was a Bellini, I mean who doesn’t love a Bellini? I just wish they were larger. Oh wait, maybe that is a good thing. (:
I had a goats cheese salad to start followed by homemade parpadelle pasta with mushrooms and spinach. YUM. During the meal we had really great conversation, sharing stories of our lives and experiences. Eimear is a teacher and has traveled all over the world, she had some really great stories of traveling to India and New Zealand. We also discussed religion and compared our experiences of religion in our youth and adult years. It made me really thankful to have such options for different religions as we have in the US, as she pointed out, she only has one, there aren’t a lot of options in Ireland. I told her that there was a Unitarian Church in Dublin but seeing as how she is from Galway, not really a feasible option. She also informed me that there is a large number of illegal Irish immigrants in the US. I had no idea! She said during the Clinton administration there were 80,000. She has known several people that have done it, and then had to return to Ireland to visit family or friends and not been able to return to the states. Including people that have business and houses. I have a different picture in my mind when one says the term “illegal immigrant” and now my horizons have widened.
This is what I love about traveling; meeting people sharing your experiences and your lives, not only have I learned so much about this wonderful country and the people within, it has also given me a new perspective on my own country and my views of it. After our sumptuous dinner the restaurant offered us a free glass of Bailey’s and who are we to say no to that? It was lovely. We then walked back towards our hostel stopping at the pub at the hotel for a drink. The pub had about 3 people in it and one drink was all that was consumed as we were both exhausted. Upon entering the hostel who did I see by one of my new friends from Dingle (originally from Holland, met him at the hostel in Dingle) Anton! Quel surprise! Upon talking to people in Ireland, this happens all the time. Anton and I had a cup of tea and shared stories of our travels since leaving Dingle.
It was up early the next morning to take the bus to Dublin for my last two nights in Dublin. I said goodbye to Eimear and am hoping she will come visit me in the states. Anton was planning on coming to Dublin in a day so we made plans to tentatively meet up.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The best laid plans....
I set off from Dingle with plans of going to Clear Island for two nights, Cork for two nights, Dublin for two nights, then onto France. Ah how plans can change. After taking a bus to Tra Li I was informed that the bus does not go to the town where the ferry to Clear Island is. I had researched this though and it said that it did but, the gentleman at the bus station told me I was misinformed. Interesting to note that the town is called Baltimore. (:
It was then time to rearrange my plans. I decided within 5 minutes to hop on a bus to Cork and I would figure out the rest later. While on the bus I consulted my guidebook for ideas on where to stay in Cork and decided to splurge on a hotel. I was done with 6 bed dorms for two nights. After arriving in Cork I left the bus station and was crossing the bridge when a young local who had never been to a dentist with young girlfriend and one year old child in tow approaches me.
Young Local: Where are you from?
Me: ummm
Young Local: You aren't from around here are you? F-ing foreigner.
Wow. Then he walked away. I was aghast! I guess my ginormous backpack gave it away. In the two days since I come up with a multitude of comebacks such as:
I am here spending my money fixing your economy!
Go to the dentist!
Go in peace!
These comebacks obviously would have totally impacted his life.
I found a room for a moderate price in a two star hotel in the city center and took a deep breath. So nice to have my own room! Who cares if my window looks onto a wall and that the paint is peeling and that there are stains on the carpet? I have my own room! It had internet so I was finally able to chat with Dad and Grammy, both of which helped me to feel better because I was having a bit of an emotional moment. I was not impressed with Cork, trash everywhere, graffiti, and that welcome soured me a bit. Dad suggested I go to the seaside town of Kinsale the following day and what a great suggestion it was.
Kinsale is a short 45 minute bus ride from Cork and world's apart. It is a very picturesque town on the water with two 17th century forts on either side of it, and wayyy to much shopping. I bought more in that small town that I have bought this whole trip. The first store I went into I found great Christmas presents, which here are apparently called "chrissy pressies." After a bit of shopping I toured the Desmond Castle which was an early 16th century house that was a jail as well. Very interesting to note that American Revolutionaries had been held there.
Post castle it was time to go to Charles Fort which was about 2 miles out of town. Along the way I stopped to enjoy my lunch which I had bought at the fantastic English market that morning. The English Market in Cork is the best thing about Cork. It reminded me of the market in Vancouver BC called Granville Island. On the menu for lunch was a baguette, goat cheese, basil, olive vegetarian pate, an apple, and potato chips. Yum! People were fishing nearby where I was eating and their springer spaniel kept coming over to inspect my meal. (:
Charles Fort is in really good condition for how old it is, it was built around 1601. They have a bunch of interesting exhibits and the views were gorgeous. After fort exploration I walked back to town and did a wee bit more shopping. Post shopping it was time for carrot cake & tea. This carrot cake was amazing, and I love how everyone takes tea breaks here, it is fantastic.
It was then back to the bus to head back to Cork. I had a mellow evening, ate at Wagamama which is my new favorite noodle restaurant (apparently there is only one in the states, Boston) and went to bed early.
This morning I went on a self guided city walk, saw the house of the first woman who entered Ellis Island. That is quite interesting. Also went to the butter museum. Now that was not so interesting, but the 18th century jail that I went to afterwords was. They had a self guided audio tour with realistic statues of the prisoners. Really quite sad. being my third jail that I have been to here, think I am done with touring jails now!
Now on a bus to Dublin, where I will catch another bus to the Wicklow Mountains and spend two evenings there. After that it is on to Dublin for two nights and then onto France to meet up with Grammy!
It was then time to rearrange my plans. I decided within 5 minutes to hop on a bus to Cork and I would figure out the rest later. While on the bus I consulted my guidebook for ideas on where to stay in Cork and decided to splurge on a hotel. I was done with 6 bed dorms for two nights. After arriving in Cork I left the bus station and was crossing the bridge when a young local who had never been to a dentist with young girlfriend and one year old child in tow approaches me.
Young Local: Where are you from?
Me: ummm
Young Local: You aren't from around here are you? F-ing foreigner.
Wow. Then he walked away. I was aghast! I guess my ginormous backpack gave it away. In the two days since I come up with a multitude of comebacks such as:
I am here spending my money fixing your economy!
Go to the dentist!
Go in peace!
These comebacks obviously would have totally impacted his life.
I found a room for a moderate price in a two star hotel in the city center and took a deep breath. So nice to have my own room! Who cares if my window looks onto a wall and that the paint is peeling and that there are stains on the carpet? I have my own room! It had internet so I was finally able to chat with Dad and Grammy, both of which helped me to feel better because I was having a bit of an emotional moment. I was not impressed with Cork, trash everywhere, graffiti, and that welcome soured me a bit. Dad suggested I go to the seaside town of Kinsale the following day and what a great suggestion it was.
Kinsale is a short 45 minute bus ride from Cork and world's apart. It is a very picturesque town on the water with two 17th century forts on either side of it, and wayyy to much shopping. I bought more in that small town that I have bought this whole trip. The first store I went into I found great Christmas presents, which here are apparently called "chrissy pressies." After a bit of shopping I toured the Desmond Castle which was an early 16th century house that was a jail as well. Very interesting to note that American Revolutionaries had been held there.
Post castle it was time to go to Charles Fort which was about 2 miles out of town. Along the way I stopped to enjoy my lunch which I had bought at the fantastic English market that morning. The English Market in Cork is the best thing about Cork. It reminded me of the market in Vancouver BC called Granville Island. On the menu for lunch was a baguette, goat cheese, basil, olive vegetarian pate, an apple, and potato chips. Yum! People were fishing nearby where I was eating and their springer spaniel kept coming over to inspect my meal. (:
Charles Fort is in really good condition for how old it is, it was built around 1601. They have a bunch of interesting exhibits and the views were gorgeous. After fort exploration I walked back to town and did a wee bit more shopping. Post shopping it was time for carrot cake & tea. This carrot cake was amazing, and I love how everyone takes tea breaks here, it is fantastic.
It was then back to the bus to head back to Cork. I had a mellow evening, ate at Wagamama which is my new favorite noodle restaurant (apparently there is only one in the states, Boston) and went to bed early.
This morning I went on a self guided city walk, saw the house of the first woman who entered Ellis Island. That is quite interesting. Also went to the butter museum. Now that was not so interesting, but the 18th century jail that I went to afterwords was. They had a self guided audio tour with realistic statues of the prisoners. Really quite sad. being my third jail that I have been to here, think I am done with touring jails now!
Now on a bus to Dublin, where I will catch another bus to the Wicklow Mountains and spend two evenings there. After that it is on to Dublin for two nights and then onto France to meet up with Grammy!
Dingle!
The process of getting to Dingle was quite a long one. many times on this trip I know I could have shortened my days by renting a car. That day was most definitely one of them. After 1 ferry boat ride, 3 different bus rides, I was in Dingle! 8 hours later.
I checked into my hostel which was a 6 bed hostel and was exhausted. After a quick stop at the grocery store and a dinner of a goat cheese salad with bread it was my intention to blog a bit and go to bed.
Lesson learned. When you sit in the public areas of hostels, prepare to make friends. That evening I met 2 American guys who had been travelling together and had rented a car for their adventures so I was able to find out their experiences of driving on the left. They spent around $200 for 3 days of car rental (WHOA) but said that driving on the left means you have to stay constantly alert. I can see how, as I would be so afraid of not paying attention and next thing you know I woulod be on the wrong side of the road. Or right depending on how you see it. (:
I also met a Swiss woman named Rachel and a German man named Alex who who both traveling alone and we all compared travel stories. I then went off to bed and the others went out on the town. Can you believe it? Yes, Jessica passed on the opportunity to go to a pub!
The next morning after a quick breakfast of yogurt, toast, and a banana it was time for my first tour of the day. It was an archeological tour of an area known as Slea Head. There were 9 people on this tour and it was fantastic. The guide was a quirky old Irishman who was light on his feet and quick with the jokes thrown in amidst the vast amounts of information.
At the beginning of the tour he took us to this huge mansion (see Flickr) which was built by Lord Ventry and where there were several Ogham stones which were grave markers from the 4th-7th century. Apparently during the 19th century it became trendy to take these stones from their original locations and place them on your lawn, he said it was like they were the flamingos of today. (:
American woman on the tour: Is there a way I can get a pamphlet of all of this information or a book or something?
Tour guide: Have you heard of Rick Steves? Do you have his tour book?
American woman: Umm yes I have heard of him and I do not have his book but I am sure I could get a copy of it.
Tour guide: I wrote the chapter for him.
And there you go! That is when you know you are dealing with a professional.
Tour guide (sorry I cannot remember his name): See the lichen on the stones? That is a sign that the air here is clean and healthy. If we were in Dublin or Belfast the stones would be black. So breathe it in, because for now it is still tax free.
After Lord Ventry's house we journeyed to a stone hut that was built in the 1100's and used for worship services. Along the way he regaled us with stories of the flora and fauna. Apparently Lord Ventry brought fuchsia to the region which grows all along the roads. It is just beautiful.
Tour guide: See all of that fuschia? In Irish it is called "deora déithe" which literally means god's tears. Fuchsia grows like a weed here, it drops on the ground and a plant grows within no time. Whereas in the States you buy a plant for $20 and it dies immediately.
Apparently the soil is so acidic in the region that hydrangea's naturally grow vibrant blues and purples. We saw the Blasket Islands from afar including the island known as the sleeping giant with his hands on his belly because he is full of Guinness. It was a fantastic tour and one I was sorry to see end. But it was on to the next tour!
What. A. Nightmare. I booked a boat tour around the Blasket Islands which was supposed to be entertaining and informative. instead it turned into a 3.5 hour nightmare with 21 out of control french teenagers. There were two male teachers with them who just let them run all over the boat screaming and obstructing all of the other adults views. The poor tour guide just gave up talking about the region as he kept having to talk over them. It was quite frustrating and unfortunate. Ah well, it is the bad tours that help you to appreciate the good tours even more!
One interesting thing I learned on the tour was that around the Dingle Bay there are two towers both built during the famine relief schemes. During the famine the British Government would employ the Protestant population to build random projects to improve morale and convince people to convert to Protestantism. Thus, if you converted you would be given work, and pay. The tour guide said that some people would convert, work on the project, and then convert back. Interesting times.
After landing back at the docks I watched a regatta that was occurring for a bit. It was kids around the ages of 10 who were in these long boats racing against each other. It was very interesting to watch.
That evening I decided to go out for drinks with a few people from the hostel and it was most certainly a cultural exchange. With live Irish music being played in the background there we sat. Me, a Swiss woman, a German man, an Italian man, and an American man. We all shared our preconceived stereotypes about people from each country and it was pretty amusing. They all said that they thought Americans were obese and lazy, driving huge cars, leaving all of the lights on, and eating McDonalds all the time. It was interesting to juxtapose this conversation with my television viewing last night in Cork. Of course on the tv was a documentary about an American man who was obsessed with overweight people and had been attemping to help his wife to get as large as possible and photograph it along the way. At the time of filming she was over 700 lbs. No wonder they think this about us!
After a couple of drinks it was time to head back to the hostel to get enough sleep for my big hike the next day. I went hiking with the Swiss woman, Rachel, who was just so pleasant and really enjoyable to be around. We decided to take the numbers of taxis with us, but try to hitchhike up to O'Connor's pass to hike from there. Both of us had never hitchhiked before and were quite nervous about it. it is widely accepted here and people do it all the time. The elderly woman at the hostel didn't bat an eye when we told her our plans and she said we would be sure to find a ride as people around there were so nice. So we set off to hitchhike. See Flickr for my preferred hitchhiking pose. We both were armed with knives just in case, but were crossing our fingers that the only thing we would be using them for was to cut up our apples at lunch. (:
I convinced Rachel to ask an elderly woman at the gas station for a ride, who kindly obliged! It was such a strange feeling to be climbing into a strangers car but she was very sweet. She gave us a ride to her house which was nowhere near where we were going, but it saved us about 20 min worth of walking. We then set out to walk up to O'Conoor's pass debating on whether we should try to hitchhike the rest of the way. It was a gorgeous day with sweeping views of the mountains in front of us and the bay with its bright blue waters behind us.
Ireland is so small of course as we are walking up the road we run into two bikers who we had met at the pub the night before. They were part of a motorcycle gang called the "Freewheelers" and had offered us a ride, but I got a weird vibe and decided the night before that we would most certainly be not taking a ride from them. Thus when we ran into them they asked why we didn't want a ride and we acted like we were really enjoying hiking up this road in the blazing sun! (:
Once we got to the top we chatted with a woman who had been hiking by herself in front of us the whole time. She was Irish and on holiday in Dingle. She was hoping to hitchhike into the Brandon Bay. Everyone here hitchhikes! Crazy.
After reaching the pass Rachel suggested we climb to the top of a mountain nearby following a road alongside of it. 20 minutes in the road disappeared and we were trudging through marsh, shoes were soaked, sheep were baaing alongside of us and I was wondering how we were going to get down. We reached the top of the mountain and had the most amazing view. We ate lunch and took a brief catnap in the sun. Note: I got sunburned in Ireland! Can you believe it?
After our catnap it was time to trudge oops I mean hike down the mountain sans trail. Note: Of course I had been picking up trash along the way and Rachel exclaimed "I cannot believe an American is picking up trash, can I take a picture of you?" I was happy to oblige.
This hike was a test of my ability to be comfortable with having no idea of where I am going. Rachel was totally relaxed and kept saying "Didn't you want an adventure?" while I kept thinking of plans B, C, and D. Most of which consisted of calling a cab whenever we got to a road as we had no idea where we were. We eventually made it to a road and a farmer drove by and stopped to chat with us. He was very surprised to run into two people from countries so far apart walking down his road. He informed us of the way to Dingle and my fears were assuaged. He then informed us that there was an old stone bridge coming up that was quite wonderful.
After our brief chat (which the Irish love to do) it was time to hit the road. The blackberries were blooming and we were seriously slow in our return in that we were eating them all along the way then decided to collect them for dessert that night. We saw the farmer two more times driving back & forth. He was very jovial and pleasant to chat with.
The stone bridge was verry pretty, built in the 1500's, and had a beautiful stream running below it. See Flickr for pictures. Lord Deputy Grey marched over that bridge with 800 of his men in 1580 to kill 600 men, women, and children in Smerwick Hrbor that had surrendered their position. Pleasant isn't it. Of course by now it is in an idyllic setting, it is hard to imagine what it must have looked like back then.
After our return to Dingle, 7 hours later we plotted how far we had walked. 10 miles! Whoa. I retired to my cosy 6 bed room and Rachel went for a run. Seriously. Wow. I had to pack up my belongings as I was taking the 7:15 bus out of town the next morning.
That evening after a lovely meal of pasta courtesy of the kitchen at the hostel Rachel, Alex, Manual (the Italian), and I decided to go watch the sunset at the old lighthouse and drink some wine. We waited too long to leave so we just sat alongside the water with cows behind us and beautiful views in front of us. The cows were quite inquisitive and came very close to us. So cute! After the sun went down we had a beautiful view of the stars. Rachel regaled us with her astronomy knowledge and Alex then decided it was time to dance. In the field. He has taken a few social dance classes and showed us the "Rock and Roll" dance which is a variance on swing dancing. It was quite a fun time. I remember looking at Alex and Rachel dancing in the field, only the dark outlines of their bodies was visible with the stars all around us, music being provided by my phone, and thinking, this moment will stay with you forever. People can be in your lives for just a moment but they make impressions on your soul. These people did that for me.
Dingle was fantastic, a place that came highly recommended and somewhere I could stay for much longer. But alas it was time to see more of the country!
I checked into my hostel which was a 6 bed hostel and was exhausted. After a quick stop at the grocery store and a dinner of a goat cheese salad with bread it was my intention to blog a bit and go to bed.
Lesson learned. When you sit in the public areas of hostels, prepare to make friends. That evening I met 2 American guys who had been travelling together and had rented a car for their adventures so I was able to find out their experiences of driving on the left. They spent around $200 for 3 days of car rental (WHOA) but said that driving on the left means you have to stay constantly alert. I can see how, as I would be so afraid of not paying attention and next thing you know I woulod be on the wrong side of the road. Or right depending on how you see it. (:
I also met a Swiss woman named Rachel and a German man named Alex who who both traveling alone and we all compared travel stories. I then went off to bed and the others went out on the town. Can you believe it? Yes, Jessica passed on the opportunity to go to a pub!
The next morning after a quick breakfast of yogurt, toast, and a banana it was time for my first tour of the day. It was an archeological tour of an area known as Slea Head. There were 9 people on this tour and it was fantastic. The guide was a quirky old Irishman who was light on his feet and quick with the jokes thrown in amidst the vast amounts of information.
At the beginning of the tour he took us to this huge mansion (see Flickr) which was built by Lord Ventry and where there were several Ogham stones which were grave markers from the 4th-7th century. Apparently during the 19th century it became trendy to take these stones from their original locations and place them on your lawn, he said it was like they were the flamingos of today. (:
American woman on the tour: Is there a way I can get a pamphlet of all of this information or a book or something?
Tour guide: Have you heard of Rick Steves? Do you have his tour book?
American woman: Umm yes I have heard of him and I do not have his book but I am sure I could get a copy of it.
Tour guide: I wrote the chapter for him.
And there you go! That is when you know you are dealing with a professional.
Tour guide (sorry I cannot remember his name): See the lichen on the stones? That is a sign that the air here is clean and healthy. If we were in Dublin or Belfast the stones would be black. So breathe it in, because for now it is still tax free.
After Lord Ventry's house we journeyed to a stone hut that was built in the 1100's and used for worship services. Along the way he regaled us with stories of the flora and fauna. Apparently Lord Ventry brought fuchsia to the region which grows all along the roads. It is just beautiful.
Tour guide: See all of that fuschia? In Irish it is called "deora déithe" which literally means god's tears. Fuchsia grows like a weed here, it drops on the ground and a plant grows within no time. Whereas in the States you buy a plant for $20 and it dies immediately.
Apparently the soil is so acidic in the region that hydrangea's naturally grow vibrant blues and purples. We saw the Blasket Islands from afar including the island known as the sleeping giant with his hands on his belly because he is full of Guinness. It was a fantastic tour and one I was sorry to see end. But it was on to the next tour!
What. A. Nightmare. I booked a boat tour around the Blasket Islands which was supposed to be entertaining and informative. instead it turned into a 3.5 hour nightmare with 21 out of control french teenagers. There were two male teachers with them who just let them run all over the boat screaming and obstructing all of the other adults views. The poor tour guide just gave up talking about the region as he kept having to talk over them. It was quite frustrating and unfortunate. Ah well, it is the bad tours that help you to appreciate the good tours even more!
One interesting thing I learned on the tour was that around the Dingle Bay there are two towers both built during the famine relief schemes. During the famine the British Government would employ the Protestant population to build random projects to improve morale and convince people to convert to Protestantism. Thus, if you converted you would be given work, and pay. The tour guide said that some people would convert, work on the project, and then convert back. Interesting times.
After landing back at the docks I watched a regatta that was occurring for a bit. It was kids around the ages of 10 who were in these long boats racing against each other. It was very interesting to watch.
That evening I decided to go out for drinks with a few people from the hostel and it was most certainly a cultural exchange. With live Irish music being played in the background there we sat. Me, a Swiss woman, a German man, an Italian man, and an American man. We all shared our preconceived stereotypes about people from each country and it was pretty amusing. They all said that they thought Americans were obese and lazy, driving huge cars, leaving all of the lights on, and eating McDonalds all the time. It was interesting to juxtapose this conversation with my television viewing last night in Cork. Of course on the tv was a documentary about an American man who was obsessed with overweight people and had been attemping to help his wife to get as large as possible and photograph it along the way. At the time of filming she was over 700 lbs. No wonder they think this about us!
After a couple of drinks it was time to head back to the hostel to get enough sleep for my big hike the next day. I went hiking with the Swiss woman, Rachel, who was just so pleasant and really enjoyable to be around. We decided to take the numbers of taxis with us, but try to hitchhike up to O'Connor's pass to hike from there. Both of us had never hitchhiked before and were quite nervous about it. it is widely accepted here and people do it all the time. The elderly woman at the hostel didn't bat an eye when we told her our plans and she said we would be sure to find a ride as people around there were so nice. So we set off to hitchhike. See Flickr for my preferred hitchhiking pose. We both were armed with knives just in case, but were crossing our fingers that the only thing we would be using them for was to cut up our apples at lunch. (:
I convinced Rachel to ask an elderly woman at the gas station for a ride, who kindly obliged! It was such a strange feeling to be climbing into a strangers car but she was very sweet. She gave us a ride to her house which was nowhere near where we were going, but it saved us about 20 min worth of walking. We then set out to walk up to O'Conoor's pass debating on whether we should try to hitchhike the rest of the way. It was a gorgeous day with sweeping views of the mountains in front of us and the bay with its bright blue waters behind us.
Ireland is so small of course as we are walking up the road we run into two bikers who we had met at the pub the night before. They were part of a motorcycle gang called the "Freewheelers" and had offered us a ride, but I got a weird vibe and decided the night before that we would most certainly be not taking a ride from them. Thus when we ran into them they asked why we didn't want a ride and we acted like we were really enjoying hiking up this road in the blazing sun! (:
Once we got to the top we chatted with a woman who had been hiking by herself in front of us the whole time. She was Irish and on holiday in Dingle. She was hoping to hitchhike into the Brandon Bay. Everyone here hitchhikes! Crazy.
After reaching the pass Rachel suggested we climb to the top of a mountain nearby following a road alongside of it. 20 minutes in the road disappeared and we were trudging through marsh, shoes were soaked, sheep were baaing alongside of us and I was wondering how we were going to get down. We reached the top of the mountain and had the most amazing view. We ate lunch and took a brief catnap in the sun. Note: I got sunburned in Ireland! Can you believe it?
After our catnap it was time to trudge oops I mean hike down the mountain sans trail. Note: Of course I had been picking up trash along the way and Rachel exclaimed "I cannot believe an American is picking up trash, can I take a picture of you?" I was happy to oblige.
This hike was a test of my ability to be comfortable with having no idea of where I am going. Rachel was totally relaxed and kept saying "Didn't you want an adventure?" while I kept thinking of plans B, C, and D. Most of which consisted of calling a cab whenever we got to a road as we had no idea where we were. We eventually made it to a road and a farmer drove by and stopped to chat with us. He was very surprised to run into two people from countries so far apart walking down his road. He informed us of the way to Dingle and my fears were assuaged. He then informed us that there was an old stone bridge coming up that was quite wonderful.
After our brief chat (which the Irish love to do) it was time to hit the road. The blackberries were blooming and we were seriously slow in our return in that we were eating them all along the way then decided to collect them for dessert that night. We saw the farmer two more times driving back & forth. He was very jovial and pleasant to chat with.
The stone bridge was verry pretty, built in the 1500's, and had a beautiful stream running below it. See Flickr for pictures. Lord Deputy Grey marched over that bridge with 800 of his men in 1580 to kill 600 men, women, and children in Smerwick Hrbor that had surrendered their position. Pleasant isn't it. Of course by now it is in an idyllic setting, it is hard to imagine what it must have looked like back then.
After our return to Dingle, 7 hours later we plotted how far we had walked. 10 miles! Whoa. I retired to my cosy 6 bed room and Rachel went for a run. Seriously. Wow. I had to pack up my belongings as I was taking the 7:15 bus out of town the next morning.
That evening after a lovely meal of pasta courtesy of the kitchen at the hostel Rachel, Alex, Manual (the Italian), and I decided to go watch the sunset at the old lighthouse and drink some wine. We waited too long to leave so we just sat alongside the water with cows behind us and beautiful views in front of us. The cows were quite inquisitive and came very close to us. So cute! After the sun went down we had a beautiful view of the stars. Rachel regaled us with her astronomy knowledge and Alex then decided it was time to dance. In the field. He has taken a few social dance classes and showed us the "Rock and Roll" dance which is a variance on swing dancing. It was quite a fun time. I remember looking at Alex and Rachel dancing in the field, only the dark outlines of their bodies was visible with the stars all around us, music being provided by my phone, and thinking, this moment will stay with you forever. People can be in your lives for just a moment but they make impressions on your soul. These people did that for me.
Dingle was fantastic, a place that came highly recommended and somewhere I could stay for much longer. But alas it was time to see more of the country!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Inis Oirr
My last night on the Aran Islands was spent on the beautiful island of Inis Oirr. I was convinced to go there by a local woman on the island of Inis Mor where I had spent the previous two nights. She said "Go there, there is loads of craic and fantastic music, it is my favorite island." Who wouldn't go after that recommendation? I booked a B & B (my own bed!) named Radharc An Claire.
In the morning on Inis Mor while I was waiting for my ferry I watched the locals participate in a movie being filmed titled "The Rafters." I will most certainly look for that when it comes out! No I did not see anything too interesting, but the girls I had dinner with the night before were hiking and saw a woman half naked by a natural phenomenon called "The Wormhole." She totally ruined their picture taking opportunities.
After hopping on the ferry, as much as one can hop with a small house on their back I was off to Inis Oirr. Upon arriving on the island I was greeted with the sun shining on a quaint town with stone walls and a large castle ruin overlooking it. I asked a local how to get to Radharch An Claire. He pointed me up a road and told me it would be a mere 20 minute walk. 20 minutes Irish style! Also as per usual the directions were nice and vague and I ended up wandering around for 45 minutes running over his directions of "Go up that road, once the cemetary is on your left make a right and it will be there." Thus there are three roads by the cemetary and I had no idea if I was on the right one. I finally asked a woman who was walking by who promptly called her mother who was a local to find out where it was. BTW I lost about 10 lbs during this from carrying my backpack around.
Upon consulting her mother the woman found out that the sign for the B & B was not the name of it. Why do that? It was the owners name, Brid Poil. Now I had walked by this sign a couple of times, but I had no idea! Upon entry to her B & B I felt so welcome, and so relieved to put my small house, aka backpack down that a smile was on my face once again. I was greeted with tea and homemade scones & bread, it was lovely. She was very kind and welcoming, the room was fantastic, see my Flickr for pictures.
Post tea it was time to explore the island. The castle ruins at the top of the town known as O'Briens castle were gorgeous, with sweeping views of the harbor and the mainland across the way. Wildflowers were blooming all around me and it was very peaceful. I walked the length of the island and got lost in the rock walls. The walls are made thusly as the island is made of rock and they have to put it somewhere to make farmland. Once I got off the beaten path with my only company being cows I had sweeping views of the Atlantic to one side and a beautiful lighthouse with the cliffs of Mohr as the backdrop on the other. At times I felt so lost among the rocks walls that were taller than me at points, I felt like I was in a labyrinth. The only sounds accompanying this walk were the cows mooing and the wind blowing. As I looked across the Atlantic I imagined my friends and family in New York going about their lives as I stood there on this remote island halfway across the world, feeling like a lost ship looking for its moorings.
I made it back to reality and after a quick shower it was time to head out for bite to eat and some music. I ate at the pub where there was an event occurring that evening for the lifeboats. The lifeboats are volunteer driven, and widely regarded everywhere I go. They will help people in medical and/or sea emergencies. If the lifeboats were not supported by the people via monetary and voluntary assistance the residents of the islands would have to wait for a helicopter from Dublin or Cork which may take too long depending on the emergency.
Dinner consisted of vegetable soup & chips. I have eaten soooo many chips here, good thing I am walking all over the place! (:
At the pub I chatted with an Irish couple that had been coming to the island for a getaway for 16 years. We had a great conversation about everything from the view of the people on the Catholic church, to the recession and how hard it has hit Ireland, to whether France should have banned the burkah. It was a great stimulating conversation in which opinions were expressed, ideas exchanged, and mutual respect was abound.
Post dinner I headed to the bar for a pre-music pint and met a woman from Dublin who introduced me to all of her friends and we all spent the night listening to amazing music. Four traditional musicians entertained the crowd playing a wide range of instruments from the flute to the fiddle to the accordion. A really memorable moment was when the owner of the pub spontaneously broke into an Irish song. Picture an elderly gentleman with wirey white hair that reached his shoulders, a weathered face complete with a white lambchop beard, leaning against a pillar in the packed pub singing a mournful Irish song of which I only heard two words. South Wales. It was beautiful, the people quieted down and listened to him sing a song that had been sung many times before for many years. When it was finished I asked my new friends what it was about. Their reply? "War, famine, love lost, you know, the usual stuff."
I went to bed at 1 but my taxi driver the next morning told me it went until 5 am! Brid made me a wonderful breakfast of porridge, fresh fruit, yogurt, and tea (and she had soy milk!) She even packed me up some homemade scones and bread for my bus ride. I would so recommend her B & B, it was wonderful. I really enjoyed hearing her speak Irish to her husband as well.
The Aran Islands were quite memorable and somewhere that I would go back to in a heartbeat and spend a lot more time on. A breathtaking, contemplative place filled with kind people and stunning views. The kind of place you could get lost in and on the way back rediscover yourself.
In the morning on Inis Mor while I was waiting for my ferry I watched the locals participate in a movie being filmed titled "The Rafters." I will most certainly look for that when it comes out! No I did not see anything too interesting, but the girls I had dinner with the night before were hiking and saw a woman half naked by a natural phenomenon called "The Wormhole." She totally ruined their picture taking opportunities.
After hopping on the ferry, as much as one can hop with a small house on their back I was off to Inis Oirr. Upon arriving on the island I was greeted with the sun shining on a quaint town with stone walls and a large castle ruin overlooking it. I asked a local how to get to Radharch An Claire. He pointed me up a road and told me it would be a mere 20 minute walk. 20 minutes Irish style! Also as per usual the directions were nice and vague and I ended up wandering around for 45 minutes running over his directions of "Go up that road, once the cemetary is on your left make a right and it will be there." Thus there are three roads by the cemetary and I had no idea if I was on the right one. I finally asked a woman who was walking by who promptly called her mother who was a local to find out where it was. BTW I lost about 10 lbs during this from carrying my backpack around.
Upon consulting her mother the woman found out that the sign for the B & B was not the name of it. Why do that? It was the owners name, Brid Poil. Now I had walked by this sign a couple of times, but I had no idea! Upon entry to her B & B I felt so welcome, and so relieved to put my small house, aka backpack down that a smile was on my face once again. I was greeted with tea and homemade scones & bread, it was lovely. She was very kind and welcoming, the room was fantastic, see my Flickr for pictures.
Post tea it was time to explore the island. The castle ruins at the top of the town known as O'Briens castle were gorgeous, with sweeping views of the harbor and the mainland across the way. Wildflowers were blooming all around me and it was very peaceful. I walked the length of the island and got lost in the rock walls. The walls are made thusly as the island is made of rock and they have to put it somewhere to make farmland. Once I got off the beaten path with my only company being cows I had sweeping views of the Atlantic to one side and a beautiful lighthouse with the cliffs of Mohr as the backdrop on the other. At times I felt so lost among the rocks walls that were taller than me at points, I felt like I was in a labyrinth. The only sounds accompanying this walk were the cows mooing and the wind blowing. As I looked across the Atlantic I imagined my friends and family in New York going about their lives as I stood there on this remote island halfway across the world, feeling like a lost ship looking for its moorings.
I made it back to reality and after a quick shower it was time to head out for bite to eat and some music. I ate at the pub where there was an event occurring that evening for the lifeboats. The lifeboats are volunteer driven, and widely regarded everywhere I go. They will help people in medical and/or sea emergencies. If the lifeboats were not supported by the people via monetary and voluntary assistance the residents of the islands would have to wait for a helicopter from Dublin or Cork which may take too long depending on the emergency.
Dinner consisted of vegetable soup & chips. I have eaten soooo many chips here, good thing I am walking all over the place! (:
At the pub I chatted with an Irish couple that had been coming to the island for a getaway for 16 years. We had a great conversation about everything from the view of the people on the Catholic church, to the recession and how hard it has hit Ireland, to whether France should have banned the burkah. It was a great stimulating conversation in which opinions were expressed, ideas exchanged, and mutual respect was abound.
Post dinner I headed to the bar for a pre-music pint and met a woman from Dublin who introduced me to all of her friends and we all spent the night listening to amazing music. Four traditional musicians entertained the crowd playing a wide range of instruments from the flute to the fiddle to the accordion. A really memorable moment was when the owner of the pub spontaneously broke into an Irish song. Picture an elderly gentleman with wirey white hair that reached his shoulders, a weathered face complete with a white lambchop beard, leaning against a pillar in the packed pub singing a mournful Irish song of which I only heard two words. South Wales. It was beautiful, the people quieted down and listened to him sing a song that had been sung many times before for many years. When it was finished I asked my new friends what it was about. Their reply? "War, famine, love lost, you know, the usual stuff."
I went to bed at 1 but my taxi driver the next morning told me it went until 5 am! Brid made me a wonderful breakfast of porridge, fresh fruit, yogurt, and tea (and she had soy milk!) She even packed me up some homemade scones and bread for my bus ride. I would so recommend her B & B, it was wonderful. I really enjoyed hearing her speak Irish to her husband as well.
The Aran Islands were quite memorable and somewhere that I would go back to in a heartbeat and spend a lot more time on. A breathtaking, contemplative place filled with kind people and stunning views. The kind of place you could get lost in and on the way back rediscover yourself.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Inish Maan
Inish Maan was so breathtakingly beautiful. I began it with a ferry ride on a boat named the "Happy Hooker." Yes, boats here are called hookers. I am leaving that one alone.
I met up with my new friend Signe from Denmark who I met the previous evening and we set off to explore the island. I had read that this island is quite remote and has the least amount of tourists, and the guidebook was right! About 10 people got off the ferry and nobody got on. There are only two ferry's per day unfortunately so I only had a couple of hours to explore.
Our first task was finding a toilet, which are not easy to come by! After a 30 minute walk from the pier we happened upon the post office where a lovely young woman told us very vague directions for bike hire and toilets. We then wandered around a bit, but what a beautiful place to wander in. I would most definitely come spend a week here. And bring my own supplies! The sun was shining, wind was blowing, rock walls surrounded us, and wildflowers were a bloom.
The first bike hire place which was also the market was out of bikes and he directed us down the road. To note: all of the signs were in Irish, so we had no idea where we were going. We happened upon the pub, and it had a fantastic ambiance. It really did feel like someones living room. Dark wood ceiling, red curtains on the windows, locals enjoying craic. The kind of place you could cozy up in when a storm blows through and make friends that would last a lifetime. Signe and I debated about whether to have a pint, then decided against it as we knew we wouldn't make it out of there to see anything else! There are pictures of it on my Flickr.
Post pub we decided against bicycle rental as we had 2 hours left and went with the hiking option. We happened upon a stone age fort which is where we enjoyed our lunch. On the menu for me was a goat cheese and tomato sandwich, apple, and potato chips. The view from the top of the fort was breathtaking, the sea and island dotted with tiny houses and the other islands in the distance.
Post lunch we wandered back into the village and parted ways as Signe was heading on to Inisheer Island (I will be going there tomorrow).
I then took a brief tour of Synge's house. For those not in the know (myself included before 1 pm today) Synge is a famous author from Ireland who wrote most of his plays on Inish Maan. The woman who gave to tour was very kind and is the great grandaughter of the owners of the cottage who rented a room to Synge. She had an array of pictures of her family that Synge had taken on the island from the late 19th century. It was a great little museum with a peat fire burning infusing the air with its scent. Picture a cosy white cottage, thatch roof and inside all the tools required for life back then including a spinning wheel and a butter churn. Quite quaint. The woman who led the tour grew up in the house and it has been her life's mission to turn it into a museum. It was lovely.
Post tour it was time to take the ferry back to Inish Mor. Now as I was walking the 30 minute walk back to the ferry I saw one leave at 2:45. I thought for a minute that it was early as my ferry was supposed to leave at 3:15. Ah Island time! Kind of like island directions. Super vague. 3:15 rolls around and there is no ferry in sight. I started having a mini inner panic as all of my belongings were on Inish Man, and I was not alone in my inner panic. Approximately 10 people were waiting for the ferry with me and we all conferred on what to do as there are only 2 ferries per day. One of the woman thought maybe they told us the wrong time and we were supposed to be there at 2:45. I started coming up with a plan B in my head which mostly involved going back to the pub!
Alas no plan B was needed, the ferry arrived albeit 20 minutes late. Ah island time!
I am now back on Inish Mor and have booked a night tomorrow on Inisheer to be followed by an 8 hour trek down to Dingle where I will be spending at least 3 nights. Tonight I am going to the same place for dinner, the vegetarian options were scrumptious. Last night it was cous cous, lentils, tomato salad, and a tomato/vegetable sauce, all of the ingredients are organic and came from the hostel's garden. To note this is not at my hostel, but another hostel up the road. When I asked the gentleman who runs my hostel how to get there he gave island directions.
Him: You just go up the road and it will be on your left in 20 minutes.
Me: Umm okay is there a sign?
Him: No we don't do signs here.
Me: Um what does it look like?
Him: White house all by itself with a bench in front of the window.
I headed up the road and went up a couple of driveways to private homes on my right as those were the directions. Turns out there is a sign, and the hostel was on my left. At least I know where I am going tonight!
I met up with my new friend Signe from Denmark who I met the previous evening and we set off to explore the island. I had read that this island is quite remote and has the least amount of tourists, and the guidebook was right! About 10 people got off the ferry and nobody got on. There are only two ferry's per day unfortunately so I only had a couple of hours to explore.
Our first task was finding a toilet, which are not easy to come by! After a 30 minute walk from the pier we happened upon the post office where a lovely young woman told us very vague directions for bike hire and toilets. We then wandered around a bit, but what a beautiful place to wander in. I would most definitely come spend a week here. And bring my own supplies! The sun was shining, wind was blowing, rock walls surrounded us, and wildflowers were a bloom.
The first bike hire place which was also the market was out of bikes and he directed us down the road. To note: all of the signs were in Irish, so we had no idea where we were going. We happened upon the pub, and it had a fantastic ambiance. It really did feel like someones living room. Dark wood ceiling, red curtains on the windows, locals enjoying craic. The kind of place you could cozy up in when a storm blows through and make friends that would last a lifetime. Signe and I debated about whether to have a pint, then decided against it as we knew we wouldn't make it out of there to see anything else! There are pictures of it on my Flickr.
Post pub we decided against bicycle rental as we had 2 hours left and went with the hiking option. We happened upon a stone age fort which is where we enjoyed our lunch. On the menu for me was a goat cheese and tomato sandwich, apple, and potato chips. The view from the top of the fort was breathtaking, the sea and island dotted with tiny houses and the other islands in the distance.
Post lunch we wandered back into the village and parted ways as Signe was heading on to Inisheer Island (I will be going there tomorrow).
I then took a brief tour of Synge's house. For those not in the know (myself included before 1 pm today) Synge is a famous author from Ireland who wrote most of his plays on Inish Maan. The woman who gave to tour was very kind and is the great grandaughter of the owners of the cottage who rented a room to Synge. She had an array of pictures of her family that Synge had taken on the island from the late 19th century. It was a great little museum with a peat fire burning infusing the air with its scent. Picture a cosy white cottage, thatch roof and inside all the tools required for life back then including a spinning wheel and a butter churn. Quite quaint. The woman who led the tour grew up in the house and it has been her life's mission to turn it into a museum. It was lovely.
Post tour it was time to take the ferry back to Inish Mor. Now as I was walking the 30 minute walk back to the ferry I saw one leave at 2:45. I thought for a minute that it was early as my ferry was supposed to leave at 3:15. Ah Island time! Kind of like island directions. Super vague. 3:15 rolls around and there is no ferry in sight. I started having a mini inner panic as all of my belongings were on Inish Man, and I was not alone in my inner panic. Approximately 10 people were waiting for the ferry with me and we all conferred on what to do as there are only 2 ferries per day. One of the woman thought maybe they told us the wrong time and we were supposed to be there at 2:45. I started coming up with a plan B in my head which mostly involved going back to the pub!
Alas no plan B was needed, the ferry arrived albeit 20 minutes late. Ah island time!
I am now back on Inish Mor and have booked a night tomorrow on Inisheer to be followed by an 8 hour trek down to Dingle where I will be spending at least 3 nights. Tonight I am going to the same place for dinner, the vegetarian options were scrumptious. Last night it was cous cous, lentils, tomato salad, and a tomato/vegetable sauce, all of the ingredients are organic and came from the hostel's garden. To note this is not at my hostel, but another hostel up the road. When I asked the gentleman who runs my hostel how to get there he gave island directions.
Him: You just go up the road and it will be on your left in 20 minutes.
Me: Umm okay is there a sign?
Him: No we don't do signs here.
Me: Um what does it look like?
Him: White house all by itself with a bench in front of the window.
I headed up the road and went up a couple of driveways to private homes on my right as those were the directions. Turns out there is a sign, and the hostel was on my left. At least I know where I am going tonight!
Galway & The Aran Islands
Allison and I headed to Galway for two nights to see what this Galway business was all about. Tourists abound!!!! It is a very quaint town with cobblestone streets, an outdoors pedestrian only shopping area and beautiful sea views.
We stayed at the Kinlay Hostel, which was... a hostel. We splurged and got a room with only 2 beds which is SO much better than the 6 bed room I am in currently on the Aran Island of Inishmoor. But more on that later.
Breakfast at the Kinlay hostel was toast and cereal, pretty basic. Internet is only provided in the dining room which makes it a bit difficult to skype with Grammy. The beds were comfortable and the room was an adequate size, but the showers were scalding and push button. Thus every 30 seconds you had to push the button to make it work. Talk about speeding up your shower!
We started off our day with a walking tour of Galway. Now I am really into the tours, but this was the worst tour ever. It was only Allison and I and we had a young guy leading it that didn't know much about the town. When we would ask questions his reply was "I don't know." He spoke in a really quiet voice and we only caught snippets of what he was saying. We had a bit of a laugh after it was over though because it was most certainly an experience!
Post tour it was time to shop. Of course I had to buy a genuine claddagh ring at the genuine claddagh ring museum. See flickr for the picture of me outside the store. After a couple of hours of shopping we were beat. The streets were thronged with tourists from all over the world and I am not a fan of crowds. After a small nap it was time to head out on the town... Galway style.
We started off our evening at the pub we were at the previous evening with a bartender that we decided was going to be our new friend. As we were chatting with him at the bar it was fairly early and another couple sat alongside us. This couple was thoroughly entertaining, a bit tipsy and fascinated with Americans. (See Flickr for the picture with them) They are Irish from a town about an hour west. The first thing they asked us upon hearing our accents was "You are not from Utah are you?" We started laughing and they regaled us of the story of the girls they met earlier in the day. Apparently they met three young women from Utah who were Mormon, didn't drink, and hated Obama! The Irish couple was fascinated with the non-drinking business. They just couldn't understand it and were so happy that we were having pints. The woman, Jennie, told us all we needed to know about Irish men. She informed us that Irish men are totally honest and the way Irish women keep them is by never telling them all the truth. She told us that you have to hold the information in and never let them have all the cards. This was told half yelling while she was consuming large amounts of wine coolers. It was quite entertaining.
After a lovely evening in Galway Allison and I parted ways, she being off to Paris, and I heading to the Aran Island of Inishmoor. This experience has been so fantastic for meeting friends, especially friends who will travel on a whim with you. After Allison left I took the ferry to the island. The ferry ride was beautiful, but getting on and off the ferry with a bag the size of a small child who eats a lot of McDonalds was not fun. I think I have a serious packing problem. My hostel here is quite close to the ferry, but I am back to the 6 bed female dorm, ahhh the luxury of a your own room! After dropping my bag/child off I was out to rent a bicycle and see the island.
The day was beautiful, sun was shining, approximately 19 degrees Celsius, and the views breathtaking. The views of hundreds of tourists were not so breathtaking, but par for the course with traveling in August. I had a fun time trying to set up my camera for self pictures, see flickr for the result. Also I managed to completely fall off my bike while going less than one mile per hour. After falling off my bike I saw a sign that had writing in gaelic and asked a local what was down the path. He replied "Rocks." I said "Rocks?" and he said "Yes, a hut of rocks." I rode down the rocky path and followed the sign to this mysterious hut of rocks. I had to park the bike and scale some walls to go to this hut, but I found it! Apparently it is from the stone age, but the tourist sign was broken so I have no further information for ye.
After my hut adventure I retrieved my bike from the side of the road and started walking it up the steep rocky path. To my dismay the bike chain had come off. Now for some of you reading this I am sure you know how easy it is to put a bike chain back on. I did not. I know basic bicycle information, like this is how you get on and off your beach cruiser, and putting a bike chain on was above my level of information.I ran through my options in my head:
1. Ask the locals in the house nearby to help.
2. Ask at the hostel that looked abandoned up the road.
3. Google on my Blackberry how to put it on.
4. Just do it!
I went with option 4. Apparently you aren't supposed to put the chain on the first tier, you have to put it on the middle one. With hands full of bicycle grease and no hankerchief or washroom in site I then got grease all over my new sweater (see shopping adventure the previous day). After wiping my hands in the grass (which incidently hides little throny things in it!) I resumed my riding. I came upon a lovely horse and had a chat with him about all of my mishaps, he was very sympathetic. See picture on flikr of my friend the horse.
Side note: When I was on the farm up north and would talk to the animals Tom asked me if I knew what anthropomorphism was. (:
At this point I had a lonely moment. you know you are lonely when your hands are full of bicycle grease, you are hot & sweaty, wondering if you put the chain on right, and talking to a horse. I guess in the end all you have is you to keep yourself company and you have to pull up your trousers, get on that bike, and go see the country.
I arrived at the fort on the island Dun Aengus which is breathtaking. It is estimated that it was built in the Iron Age. It is situated on the edge of a cliff 100 meters high and there aren't any fences to keep people from just falling off the cliff! You know if this was in the US there would be fences abound because of someone suing them after something happened. Okay I am off my soapbox now.
I just love how friendly people are here. As I am walking up to the fort at 6:00pm the tour guide is walking away from the fort and tells me that I just missed the last tour. I replied it was okay and asked when they resume in the morning. He asked if I would come back and I replied probably not, thus he gave me a 5 minute tour on the history of it. This is how nice people are here, they will take time out of their day to give you information and make you feel so welcome.
After the fort I returned to the hostel to take a shower and freshen up for dinner. In my guide book they listed a hostel about a mile up the road that offers a mostly vegetarian buffet. It was SO good! I ate with 5 other women, 2 locals, one of which happened to be a tour guide on the island, a woman from Helsinki who had been spending summers here for the last 22 years, a woman from Denmark, and another woman from Holland. At dinner one of the locals told us about how they are currently filming a movie here and she was an extra in it. (Note, they filmed parts of Leap Year here!)
The dinner conversation was fantastic and after dinner the ladies from Denmark & Holland and I went on to the local pub as we heard the local musician, "Mad Paddy" was something to be seen. boy was he! He had an wireless mic and wireless guitar and played a combination of honky tonk and Irish music with the volume blaring. He went all over the bar, from dancing on the tops of tables to going outside and singing with the smokers. He is about 45, 4'5 tall and wore a camouflage hat, and was hilarious.
Today I am off to the least touristy of the Islands, Inishman. Hope to report more adventures later!
We stayed at the Kinlay Hostel, which was... a hostel. We splurged and got a room with only 2 beds which is SO much better than the 6 bed room I am in currently on the Aran Island of Inishmoor. But more on that later.
Breakfast at the Kinlay hostel was toast and cereal, pretty basic. Internet is only provided in the dining room which makes it a bit difficult to skype with Grammy. The beds were comfortable and the room was an adequate size, but the showers were scalding and push button. Thus every 30 seconds you had to push the button to make it work. Talk about speeding up your shower!
We started off our day with a walking tour of Galway. Now I am really into the tours, but this was the worst tour ever. It was only Allison and I and we had a young guy leading it that didn't know much about the town. When we would ask questions his reply was "I don't know." He spoke in a really quiet voice and we only caught snippets of what he was saying. We had a bit of a laugh after it was over though because it was most certainly an experience!
Post tour it was time to shop. Of course I had to buy a genuine claddagh ring at the genuine claddagh ring museum. See flickr for the picture of me outside the store. After a couple of hours of shopping we were beat. The streets were thronged with tourists from all over the world and I am not a fan of crowds. After a small nap it was time to head out on the town... Galway style.
We started off our evening at the pub we were at the previous evening with a bartender that we decided was going to be our new friend. As we were chatting with him at the bar it was fairly early and another couple sat alongside us. This couple was thoroughly entertaining, a bit tipsy and fascinated with Americans. (See Flickr for the picture with them) They are Irish from a town about an hour west. The first thing they asked us upon hearing our accents was "You are not from Utah are you?" We started laughing and they regaled us of the story of the girls they met earlier in the day. Apparently they met three young women from Utah who were Mormon, didn't drink, and hated Obama! The Irish couple was fascinated with the non-drinking business. They just couldn't understand it and were so happy that we were having pints. The woman, Jennie, told us all we needed to know about Irish men. She informed us that Irish men are totally honest and the way Irish women keep them is by never telling them all the truth. She told us that you have to hold the information in and never let them have all the cards. This was told half yelling while she was consuming large amounts of wine coolers. It was quite entertaining.
After a lovely evening in Galway Allison and I parted ways, she being off to Paris, and I heading to the Aran Island of Inishmoor. This experience has been so fantastic for meeting friends, especially friends who will travel on a whim with you. After Allison left I took the ferry to the island. The ferry ride was beautiful, but getting on and off the ferry with a bag the size of a small child who eats a lot of McDonalds was not fun. I think I have a serious packing problem. My hostel here is quite close to the ferry, but I am back to the 6 bed female dorm, ahhh the luxury of a your own room! After dropping my bag/child off I was out to rent a bicycle and see the island.
The day was beautiful, sun was shining, approximately 19 degrees Celsius, and the views breathtaking. The views of hundreds of tourists were not so breathtaking, but par for the course with traveling in August. I had a fun time trying to set up my camera for self pictures, see flickr for the result. Also I managed to completely fall off my bike while going less than one mile per hour. After falling off my bike I saw a sign that had writing in gaelic and asked a local what was down the path. He replied "Rocks." I said "Rocks?" and he said "Yes, a hut of rocks." I rode down the rocky path and followed the sign to this mysterious hut of rocks. I had to park the bike and scale some walls to go to this hut, but I found it! Apparently it is from the stone age, but the tourist sign was broken so I have no further information for ye.
After my hut adventure I retrieved my bike from the side of the road and started walking it up the steep rocky path. To my dismay the bike chain had come off. Now for some of you reading this I am sure you know how easy it is to put a bike chain back on. I did not. I know basic bicycle information, like this is how you get on and off your beach cruiser, and putting a bike chain on was above my level of information.I ran through my options in my head:
1. Ask the locals in the house nearby to help.
2. Ask at the hostel that looked abandoned up the road.
3. Google on my Blackberry how to put it on.
4. Just do it!
I went with option 4. Apparently you aren't supposed to put the chain on the first tier, you have to put it on the middle one. With hands full of bicycle grease and no hankerchief or washroom in site I then got grease all over my new sweater (see shopping adventure the previous day). After wiping my hands in the grass (which incidently hides little throny things in it!) I resumed my riding. I came upon a lovely horse and had a chat with him about all of my mishaps, he was very sympathetic. See picture on flikr of my friend the horse.
Side note: When I was on the farm up north and would talk to the animals Tom asked me if I knew what anthropomorphism was. (:
At this point I had a lonely moment. you know you are lonely when your hands are full of bicycle grease, you are hot & sweaty, wondering if you put the chain on right, and talking to a horse. I guess in the end all you have is you to keep yourself company and you have to pull up your trousers, get on that bike, and go see the country.
I arrived at the fort on the island Dun Aengus which is breathtaking. It is estimated that it was built in the Iron Age. It is situated on the edge of a cliff 100 meters high and there aren't any fences to keep people from just falling off the cliff! You know if this was in the US there would be fences abound because of someone suing them after something happened. Okay I am off my soapbox now.
I just love how friendly people are here. As I am walking up to the fort at 6:00pm the tour guide is walking away from the fort and tells me that I just missed the last tour. I replied it was okay and asked when they resume in the morning. He asked if I would come back and I replied probably not, thus he gave me a 5 minute tour on the history of it. This is how nice people are here, they will take time out of their day to give you information and make you feel so welcome.
After the fort I returned to the hostel to take a shower and freshen up for dinner. In my guide book they listed a hostel about a mile up the road that offers a mostly vegetarian buffet. It was SO good! I ate with 5 other women, 2 locals, one of which happened to be a tour guide on the island, a woman from Helsinki who had been spending summers here for the last 22 years, a woman from Denmark, and another woman from Holland. At dinner one of the locals told us about how they are currently filming a movie here and she was an extra in it. (Note, they filmed parts of Leap Year here!)
The dinner conversation was fantastic and after dinner the ladies from Denmark & Holland and I went on to the local pub as we heard the local musician, "Mad Paddy" was something to be seen. boy was he! He had an wireless mic and wireless guitar and played a combination of honky tonk and Irish music with the volume blaring. He went all over the bar, from dancing on the tops of tables to going outside and singing with the smokers. He is about 45, 4'5 tall and wore a camouflage hat, and was hilarious.
Today I am off to the least touristy of the Islands, Inishman. Hope to report more adventures later!
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