I went to Ireland. Have I mentioned that? I did. Pictures. More pictures. The lovely Anna and I flew into Dublin on 14 January, and we arrived back “home” in Edinburgh on the 18th.
I’ll just tell the highlights; a detailed description of our 5 days in Ireland would be quite lengthy.
The weather was horrific. Terrible. No matter how descriptive my language is when recalling the weather, it will not do it justice. Our tour guide Danny, a life-long Dubliner, said he had never seen weather like this. Rain, hail, and sleet were a constant. The winds got up to 105mph one night. You know how crazy news anchors will stand in the middle of a hurricane? They can stand still. When we got off the bus, we literally had to hold on to each other. Despite the weather, the trip was great! It couldn’t have been better!!
We spent the first 2 nights in Dublin in Abigail’s Hostel… very nice accommodation for anyone who is looking into Ireland. We walked around the city for hours on end until finally our weary legs took us to an open-top tour bus. The Guiness Store House was one bus stop, so that was our “splurge” of the day. I do love me some Guiness. The museum takes you through the history of the Guiness family, growing the hops, the specific water, fermentation, the wooden barrels, and advertising. Finally, you get to enjoy a pint on the top floor with a panoramic view. Anna even got a lesson on how to pull the perfect pint: the carbon dioxide, the nitrogen, and the 119.5 seconds it takes for the gases to settle. She even has a certificate to prove her accreditation.
Our Shamrocker Southern Rocker tour left on Friday morning. The 19 of us included our Irish tour guide, our Slovakian bus drive, 15 Aussies, and the token 2 Americans. We stopped briefly at the Rock of Cashel (our first of many castles) and then explored the Mitchelstown Caves with a tour guide who lived her life for stalactites and stalagmites. The best part of Friday was our trip to Blarney Castle. The grounds are gorgeous: green grass, tall trees, and a meandering stream. The castle was dates back to the 13th century, but what it is really know for is the BLARNEY STONE. The Stone of Destiny was cut in two, one half going to Scotland and 1 half being built into the structure of Blarney Castle. Now known as the Blarney Stone, kissing it will give you the “gift of the gab.” Kissing it, however, is no easy task. The floor of the 2nd story has a hole about 1 foot from the wall and 2 feet long. You have to lay on your back with your head positioned over the hole. Two iron rods have been installed for you to grab while you lower your upper body, head first and upside down, towards the ground to reach the Blarney Stone. If you are limber enough to clear it with your chin, you give it a kiss and pull yourself back up. An old man sits next to the hole, day in and day out, whose job is to support your back and help you earn the gift of the gab. He has one joke: don’t use tongue. He either 1) thought I was a precious American, 2) thought I desperately needed eloquent speech, or 3) felt bad for the girl shaking from her fear of heights because he let me kiss the stone TWICE. Anyone who is anyone kisses the stone, included Brad, Angelina, and Bill Clinton. I’m in their ranks now.
We spent Friday night in Killarney, my favorite town we visited. The streets are narrow cobblestone, and they’re lined with pubs and small businesses. We (the Irish tour guide, 15 Aussies, and token 2 Americans) heard an Irish story teller at one of the pubs. I was rolling on the floor laughing. He told stories of pub regulars (the policeman, the bum, the man who died with a glass of Bush Mills in his hand, and the nun) as if he owned the bar.
On Saturday, we headed towards the Dingle Peninsula. Danny said normally it would take 3 hours to drive the route, stopping every few miles for 30-minutes or so; however, this was the day the winds started to pick up. Our stops were less often, and our time off the buss was very time-efficient. If it looks like I’m in pain in my pictures, it’s because I was. The tour would have been even shorter, but we were stuck behind a herd of sheep for a good 30 minutes. No joke. The farmer and his 2 dogs moved the herd of sheep from one pasture to another. We had lunch in a local pub before the winds took out all the power. We stayed in the very Irish town of Doolin on Saturday night. The town only has one hostel, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear if their only business was from the Shamrocker tours. Saturday night was when the winds blew over 100mph. The hostel wasn’t well-heated, so we all crammed around the fire in the living room with our books and journals. In such a quaint Irish town, delivery is not an option. As one of the Aussie girls put it, when in Doolin, do as the Dooliners do. We bundled up and braved the hail and high speed winds. Note: running a quarter of a mile with high winds and hail is not a good combination. On top of all this, the bridge that runs over the river is supposed to have a resident fairy. Irish fairies are not Tinkerbells, but rather are nasty creatures capable of serious harm. If this fairy catches you, it will hoist you over its should and carry you away, never to be seen again.
First thing Sunday morning, we visited the Cliffs of Moher. If you are a Princess Bride fan, which I am not, you would recognize the landscape as the “Cliffs of Insanity.” If you have been there before, you will know that the winds and the waves create a constant mist rising up from the ocean 400 feet below. With the abnormally strong winds, the top observation plateau looked like an upside-down waterfall. The Cliffs ended up being yet another time-efficient photo opportunity. Next we went to the Burren plateau. The plateau is a limestone landscape, like it’s straight out of Wuthering Heights. The weather miraculously cleared up enough for us to enjoy an old monastery. Clonmacnoise is right on the shore. The masonry work in its Celtic crosses is world-famous. Modern-day stone masons have tried to replicate the crosses but have failed. The chapel, various stone buildings, and the graves of all of Ireland’s 70-something saints stand in your line-of-sight while looking out to the water. Beautiful.
Then we went back to Dublin and then back to Edinburgh.
The 3 most popular sites in Ireland: The Guiness Store House (check), the Blarney Castle (check), and the Cliffs of Moher (check). A successful holiday.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
New Years Served up Hogmanay Style
Here is my 20-day overdue New Years account.
Hogmanay is Edinburgh's New Years celebration. The city's population during the holiday triples… or something ridiculous like that. The celebration starts 29 December and lasts through New Years Day.
Monday 29 December 2008
The Torch Procession: the coolest thing I’ve done in Edinburgh. I had a bit of trouble pushing through the crowds to get to my friends, but thanks to my persuasive skills, a security officer let me cut through City Chambers. I caught up with everyone in front of St. Giles Cathedral right as the crowd started moving. If you’ve been to Old Town, picture High Street’s sidewalks and road packed shoulder to shoulder from the City Chambers all the way down to the John Knox House. Now picture a lit torch in everyone’s hand. For fear of sounding like a 12-year-old, it was so cool. We walked west on the Royal Mile, north on The Mound, and turned right to walk east on Princes Street. This is the only time of the year thousands of people could get away with lolly-gagging down the usually traffic-packed Princes Street. We caught up with the bagpipers right about Calton Hill Cemetery and followed them up Calton Hill, where we were greeted by a 20-foot bonfire. Then the fireworks. My family can tell you that I’ve never been one to be amused by fireworks. One display looks like the next, and you’ve seen it all after the first 30 seconds. Maybe it was the view of Old and New Towns behind me, the Shame to my left, Nelson’s Monument to my right, and my friends all around me… but these were hands down the best fireworks I’ve seen. The show went for nearly 20 minutes, and I loved every second of it.
Tuesday 30 December 2008
Dance Festival. Grassmarket was closed from Victoria Street down to Kings Stables Road to make room for two stages. Simultaneously on each stage were a variety of dance performers. We saw tap dancers, break dancers, Scottish folk dancers, swing dancers, salsa dancers, Chinese dragon dancers, and show girls. My favorite was the country western dance troop. All claiming to be siblings (and yet they look nothing alike and are all about the same age) and to be from Texas (with a Hollywood-heavy fake accents), they broke down and taught a line dance to the couple thousand in the crowd. I ate it up. It took me back to my Scuffle Town days of high school. Sigh…
Wednesday 31 December 2008- Thursday 1 January 2009
New Years night was fun, but my favorite parts were the two days leading up. We met our friends at Angela’s flat in the Grassmarket. We then leisurely wandered back up to the top of Calton Hill to watch the firework displays. Yes, plural. Fireworks shot from Calton Hill, the castle, and another location too far away to tell. This was the first year in several years that I wasn’t in Montreat with my beloved summer staff friends, so I must admit I missed the crowded living room in Glen Rock. We saw no ball drop, so there was no count-down. There was no collective, “Happy New Year.” The suckers who paid for the street party tickets collectively sang “Auld Lang Syne” (it is Scotland…), but the economically wary kids on the hill missed out on such. But it was still a great way to bring in the New Year. We moved on then to Scott’s flat and stayed awake until it hurt to hold our eyes open.
So that is how I spent my New Years. With new friends in a foreign land. Couldn't have been better!
Hogmanay is Edinburgh's New Years celebration. The city's population during the holiday triples… or something ridiculous like that. The celebration starts 29 December and lasts through New Years Day.
Monday 29 December 2008
The Torch Procession: the coolest thing I’ve done in Edinburgh. I had a bit of trouble pushing through the crowds to get to my friends, but thanks to my persuasive skills, a security officer let me cut through City Chambers. I caught up with everyone in front of St. Giles Cathedral right as the crowd started moving. If you’ve been to Old Town, picture High Street’s sidewalks and road packed shoulder to shoulder from the City Chambers all the way down to the John Knox House. Now picture a lit torch in everyone’s hand. For fear of sounding like a 12-year-old, it was so cool. We walked west on the Royal Mile, north on The Mound, and turned right to walk east on Princes Street. This is the only time of the year thousands of people could get away with lolly-gagging down the usually traffic-packed Princes Street. We caught up with the bagpipers right about Calton Hill Cemetery and followed them up Calton Hill, where we were greeted by a 20-foot bonfire. Then the fireworks. My family can tell you that I’ve never been one to be amused by fireworks. One display looks like the next, and you’ve seen it all after the first 30 seconds. Maybe it was the view of Old and New Towns behind me, the Shame to my left, Nelson’s Monument to my right, and my friends all around me… but these were hands down the best fireworks I’ve seen. The show went for nearly 20 minutes, and I loved every second of it.
Tuesday 30 December 2008
Dance Festival. Grassmarket was closed from Victoria Street down to Kings Stables Road to make room for two stages. Simultaneously on each stage were a variety of dance performers. We saw tap dancers, break dancers, Scottish folk dancers, swing dancers, salsa dancers, Chinese dragon dancers, and show girls. My favorite was the country western dance troop. All claiming to be siblings (and yet they look nothing alike and are all about the same age) and to be from Texas (with a Hollywood-heavy fake accents), they broke down and taught a line dance to the couple thousand in the crowd. I ate it up. It took me back to my Scuffle Town days of high school. Sigh…
Wednesday 31 December 2008- Thursday 1 January 2009
New Years night was fun, but my favorite parts were the two days leading up. We met our friends at Angela’s flat in the Grassmarket. We then leisurely wandered back up to the top of Calton Hill to watch the firework displays. Yes, plural. Fireworks shot from Calton Hill, the castle, and another location too far away to tell. This was the first year in several years that I wasn’t in Montreat with my beloved summer staff friends, so I must admit I missed the crowded living room in Glen Rock. We saw no ball drop, so there was no count-down. There was no collective, “Happy New Year.” The suckers who paid for the street party tickets collectively sang “Auld Lang Syne” (it is Scotland…), but the economically wary kids on the hill missed out on such. But it was still a great way to bring in the New Year. We moved on then to Scott’s flat and stayed awake until it hurt to hold our eyes open.
So that is how I spent my New Years. With new friends in a foreign land. Couldn't have been better!
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