PS - I love you.

My friends from George Mason had been visiting this entire week and Friday was their last full day in Ireland before an early flight departing Saturday morning. I thought it would be fun to see the country side and some of the infamous spots used in films like PS-I love you. For 22 euro, we took a tour of the Wicklow Mountains and Glendalough National Park. We got picked up at 9:30 am and hopped on the bus. Our first stop was Wicklow Mountains. This is where the movie PS- I love you was filmed. We stopped first at Guinness Lake. It gets the name from the water being black and the white sand at it's edge, making it look like a pint of Guinness. Atop the hill it was extremely breezy and frigid. A quick photo-op and a gaze into the gorgeous scenery ensued. I felt guilty just taking a picture then getting back on the bus. The views were incredible and minus the wind it was a perfect day. I tried to muster up enough strength to stay outside in the bitter cold but the wind and chill got the best of me and I headed back to the bus.



Next we stopped at the bridge in PS- I love you where Gerard Butler meets a young Hilary Swank. Hoping we too would meet the Irish man of our dreams, we hopped off the bus anxiously to recreate the monumental minute in the film. The next stop was a mans house that was in a valley. It was a cute farm house that had a rushing waterfall leading down into some trees. We got a complimentary shot of whiskey at the stop, because well who doesn't want a shot at 12pm? It is places like these that make me want to seriously pick up and move out here after college. I can't get over the sheer beauty of this country, and each day I find something more I love about it.





After a pit stop for lunch we were headed to Glendalough National Park. The weather was getting iffy, with overcast skies quickly darkening and finally resulting in a short drizzle. Regardless we had two hours at this park. We started by walking through an old monastery, which was just ruins, completed with a cemetery and a church at the entrance. It was so windy and cold, but the aging gravestones were a good distraction. I find cemeteries peaceful. Slightly morbid, but I enjoyed reading through the names of these people who had an impact large enough to be buried in this special cemetery. The watch tower of the monastery is the second tallest in Ireland, built to watch for impeding attacks by the Vikings. The church, called Kevin's Church, was named after Saint Kevin and marks the entry to the monastery grounds.



After the monastery, we walked around the park for a couple hours. We saw the twin lakes located at the center of the valley. The park was beautiful, and even in the rain I managed to be completely at peace with the weather. It was humbling to be surrounded by such gorgeous natural forestry. The park had gorgeous waterfalls, so much greenery it made my eyes hurt and a large tree that took us about 25 minutes to scale and take a picture in. After a two hour jaunt around the park, we headed back to the bus and were back in Dublin by 5pm. The nature in this country is absolutely gorgeous. I'm not trying to be all nature child or anything, but it really makes me appreciate the beauty of naturally made structures like mountains and lakes.

Holi-daze.

This year is the first year I have not been present for Thanksgiving at home in my life. While abroad, my friends and I had been determined to do Thanksgiving justice with all of us not being able to be home for the holidays. Wednesday night shopping brought home a frozen turkey (7.99 euro) veggies, 2 bags of potatoes, asparagus, squash, and various dessert ingredients. I took my friends souvenir shopping early on Thursday morning, and promptly returned to campus around 12pm to help with the cooking. The turkey was frozen and needed to thaw out, so it was sitting in a bathtub full of cool water since 6am that morning. I went over prepared to help with cooking, not for what I had to endure. The turkey was almost thawed so we decided to get to work on stuffing it and baking it in order to eat at a reasonable hour. We pulled out the plastic bag with all it's guts in it and threw it away. After that was out the turkey still seemed like it needed more to come out so we could stuff it properly. The neck was in the way of that. I had to grab this poor dead turkey's neck and rip it out. It seems like an easy task, but it was utterly disgusting and completely daunting. The turkey was still partly frozen in the center so I had to use my sheer brute strength, and after a few tugs, the neck flew out and on to the kitchen floor. I screamed. Gross. After stuffing the turkey, we put it in the oven to cook for about 5 hours. Periodically I basted the sucker but mostly left it alone in order to help make the accompanying dishes. For dessert Sarah had made this delicious apple pie, as well as pumpkin pie. I contributed with some magic bars, which were amazing. The turkey finally came out of the oven around 6:45pm and it looked fantastic. I had the job of carving it. I have no personal carving experience, and have only witnessed how to cut one while watching my dad do it at my house. I tried as hard as possible to mimic the carving technique that I think my dad used. I got as much turkey off the bones and started passing the plate around. My pseudo family and I enjoyed Thanksgiving together. It went off without a hitch, and I couldn't have asked for a better holiday in a foreign country away from home. Now that I know I can cook and actually not burn and ruin things, I will possibly contribute some food and maybe even learn how to properly carve a turkey next year.

Taste Testing with Old Friends.

November 20th my friends from George Mason landed in Dublin. They had bought their tickets over the summer when I found out I was coming abroad, and came to see me over Thanksgiving break. It was such a relief to see friendly faces over the holidays, and made me miss home a little less with them here. We met up Saturday afternoon to go to the Jameson Distillery. It's not the actual distillery, which is located just outside of Cork, but a re-creation of the real thing, showing the step by step process of how the smooth tasting whiskey is brewed and distilled.



They took us all through a guided tour, starting with a boring video about Jameson and where it originated. After the video, the tour guide asked for eight volunteers, four men and four women. She handed out these green batons to the lucky people who raised their hands, one of whom happened to be my friend Jin. She was lucky enough to, after the tour, taste three different kinds of whiskey and decide which tasted the best and smoothest. The three whiskeys were Jack Daniels, Johnny Walker and Jameson.





The pictures above show the machine that lets the barley ferment into an alcohol and then the vats that are used to store the non-distilled whiskey in until it is ready to be transported into barrels where it sits for up to eighteen years maturing and getting that golden brown coloring. The tour ended with Jin sitting at a taste testing table, slinging back three shots of whiskey and in the end determining that Jameson was in fact, the best one. I had a little sip after she was done testing and agreed. It's smooth and a lot easier to drink than Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker. The end of the tour also gave us a complimentary drink. You could mix Jameson with any of the two mixers; cranberry juice, gingerale or have it straight with ice. I chose gingerale, but tasted the cranberry juice mixture and liked that one the best. Overall, it was fun to do more tourist attractions in Dublin. I believe I have drank in most of the pubs in this city, but have still found my knowledge of the city's history and tourist attractions sadly untouched. I have two and a half weeks left, so we'll see how much I can cram in.

Blessed with the Luck of the Irish.

After a few failed attempts at trying to do tourist activities in Dublin, Sarah, Caitlin and myself decided to take an actual trip to another part of Ireland to part take in a touring ritual that one must do when in Ireland: The Blarney Stone. We bought our train tickets for a Sunday day trip and by 10am we were off on the three hour train from Dublin to Cork. At 1pm, we arrived to a gloomy, overcast, mild temperatured Cork. It was what I had hoped for; and bundled up in my pea coat and scarf I felt warm, not hot or cold, it was perfect. We took a 15 minute walk into the center of Cork city to get some lunch before we headed off to the Blarney Castle. (pictured: Parliament Bridge, Father Matthew statue, street in Cork).





A quick sandwich and a few 'posey' monument pictures later, we were at the bus station buying a round trip ticket to Blarney. The bus took about 20 minutes into the seemingly secluded, quaint town of Blarney. We spent about 10 minutes on a narrow, windy road with green hills and cows at every turn of a curve in the road. When we arrived at Blarney we were signaled to get off. The town itself is small, and adorable. There were fleets of people walking towards an information booth so we followed with the hopes they too, were going to the castle. The admission was 8euro, and clearly stated on the sign it comes with entry to the castle, the rock close gardens and the famous kiss. We walked in and roamed around the paths for a little taking pictures before we found our way across the small mote and on the castle grounds. The castle itself is stoic and beautiful. It sits back behind a large green lawn with trees and a small mote creating a barrier around the fortress. Around the perimeter of the castle, is the watch man's tower (self explanatory) and the gates to the dungeon which we stopped to pose for pictures in. Walking up to the entrance there are benches with the words 'Blarney Castle' written on the back, which puts them in the perfect spot to take a typical tourist picture, which is exactly what we did. (pictured: the castle, in the dungeon, the bench)






We walked in and hiked up the stairs of the castle, which would make anyone prone to claustrophobia extremely nervous. The spiral staircase was a one way climb to the top. The staircase is about four feet wide and only about 6 feet tall, so I was feeling the pressure to get up as fast as I can without freaking out. We stopped to breathe along with looking at the remnants of the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms of the castle before we got to the top. The view from the top of the castle is fantastic, you can seemingly see for miles and are above the treeline as well. The grass is amazingly green and the colors of the horticulture just seem to pop with contrast. While taking in the views, we waited in line to kiss the legendary stone. What you have to do to kiss the stone, is lay down, bend over the edge of castle while some random man you don't even know holds onto your torso so you don't fall to your death. He then tells you to scoot back way too far for comfort until your head is aligned with the stone. A quick kiss and you are hoisted up within a second. Sure, dangling almost to my death was riveting but knowing that I had kissed a stone that is supposed to bring me luck, I knew I wasn't going to fall to my demise, well because that would be unlucky. (pictured: view from the top, me on top of the castle, kissing the stone)





We began our descent down the stairs that seemed to never end, and on the way back out we stopped at the Rock Close gardens. There were gorgeous waterfalls, wishing ponds and beautiful trees all inside the gardens. It was a great way to wind down the adrenaline rush of being dangled. The day ended with dinner at a bistro, and a calm train ride home back to my crappy apartment on campus. Every time I have gone somewhere since being here, I am reminded how lucky I am, and am completely humbled by my experiences. I don't think I'll ever have an opportunity like this again, and it's truly amazing to me that I can go so many places and see so many things that will be with me forever. (pictured: waterfalls, wishing pond)

When you fall off the horse, get back on.

Maybe you don't know, but when I was in third grade, I got into a horrible bike-collision-with-oak-tree accident. In short, I broke my face, an arm, and seriously mangled my brothers brand new bike. WHOOPS. Now, I had every intention of never riding a bike ever again. But that was about to change seeing as the entire Saturday spanning from 11-3pm would be me, on a bike, riding through the crowded streets of Paris. I was not excited. But 26 euro and no helmet later, I found myself on a bike in boots, a dress, and in a large pack of people, which is exactly where a previous bike crasher needs to be. We were off, seeing sights such as Napoleon's tomb, the Military school of Paris, the Peace monument, the Eiffel Tower, The Lourve, Tuilerie Gardens and Alexander III's bridge. It was actually a lot easier than I thought. I guess the saying it true, it's like riding a bike, and now it clearly shows that it was the trees fault for getting in my way and not my fault when I originally crashed. I did know how to ride a bike, and without crashing, I made it through four hours and 10 kilometers of biking. I even managed to snap a few photos while in motion, which I was proud of. We stopped for lunch at the Tuilerie Gardens right outside the Lourve. It was sunny and 60 degrees and the gardens were gorgeous. There were tons of statues and sculptures littering (not in a bad way) each flower enclosed square. The architecture and detail of the Lourve was amazing to see as well. All around, a worthwhile purchase. (pictured: Napoleon's tomb, military hospital, view from Alexander III's bridge, Tuilerie Gardens and the Lourve)






After finishing up our tour, we decided to embrace the Parisian lifestyle and picnic on the lawn outside the Eiffel Tower. We didn't go up because the line caused a time constraint, so we figured a couple bottles of wine, two baguettes, cheese and grapes would be a better way to spend our time and money. We sat, picnicked and took cheesy touristy photos of baguette wars and were off to the Montparnass, the tallest and only skyscraper in Paris. For 5.50 euro, we took the elevator to the top and at 7pm on the dot the Eiffel tower lights up and sparkles. It was a complete 360degree view of the city and was absolutely fabulous. I knew then and there why this place was dubbed the city of lights. There was hardly a space that I could see that wasn't covered by lights. We took the opportunity to take tons of pictures before heading back to the hotel. (pictured: Eiffel tower, dinner, Paris at night)





We headed back to our hotel room, but made a stop outside the definition of Paris nightlife in my book, the Moulin Rouge. I half expected to see Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGreggor singing cheap covers of popular songs off the roof but quickly came back to reality when I saw it in it's modern day mask. With lights and a revamped windmill, the Rouge was not exactly how I pictured it. I was still engulfed by the beauty and historical plays and shows that took place but couldn't help but think about how it had originally looked when it was first built. My friends went across the street to Starbucks to get a quick coffee jolt, and I stood there mesmerized by the lights gleaming off the legendary club. We went back to our hotel and got ready for an entirely uneventful Halloween, came back at 3am and called it a night. Hailing a cab was still impossible, but by 4am I was passed out in my bed. 8am came way too early, having set my alarm so we could get up and do touristy things for the last day before our flight at 9pm Sunday night. We took advantage of our free breakfast (croissant, coffee, baguette with butter and jelly, and orange juice) and were off on the metro to the Lourve and Notre Dame for our last day. The Lourve was free because it was the first Sunday of the month, so naturally it was packed. We saw the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo and a few other notables before calling it a day and heading out of claustrophobia central into some much needed fresh air. We went to Notre Dame and I was blown away by the Gothic architecture and utter detail in every corner and inch of that cathedral. The inside was the most beautiful cathedral I've ever seen, with stained glass windows, high pointed arches, and a giant alter that would make any one proud to pray in. We headed back to the airport and after a long day, we were back in Dublin. Home sweet home. Paris, you were fun, but Dublin is where I rest my head and call home, and I definitely missed it. (pictured: Moulin Rouge, The Lourve, Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Notre Dame). I'll put a link to all my pictures so you can see them.







PICTURES :: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2036777&id=1086540162&l=3afad18bff

Passport to Paris

Three days after our stint to sunny, warm Barcelona, a 2:30 am alarm went off and it was time to jet set off to Paris, France for the weekend. We caught the 3am shuttle to Dublin airport and arrived on time ready for an unknowingly long, drawn out day of traveling ahead. Our plane was on time, and after a rough landing, we were finally in Paris. Well, in an airport one hour outside of Paris. A 26 euro round trip shuttle to the center of Paris was the next step in our journey. An hour later, we arrived. I had no idea where we were, how to speak French, or what direction to turn in. We started wandering around streets attempting to find a decently close metro to take towards our district that housed our hotel. We walked in the wrong direction a couple of times until we got it right and headed to a metro. It was closed. Strike one. The one stop we need was closed so the next option is to try and hail a cab. They drive by, and no one stops to pick us up for 30 minutes, when we have to split up because they can't fit 6 people. We split up, I stay behind. Strike two. After staying behind for about 40 minutes more, we hear the metro rumbling beneath our feet and hop on, we get off and walk 10 minutes in the wrong direction. Strike three. We were supposed to check into our hotel at 11 am, it was currently 1:15 pm. We were a little late, Paris did not give a great first impression. Though, I did however, get a great view of the Arche de Triomphe on the way to the metro.

After checking into our hotel, things started to look up as we each got our own beds and a bathroom connected to our room. I realized then that I would never pay to stay in a hostel again, because for 19 euro a night, it was a better deal than any price I had paid previously for an uncomfortable co-ed room with bunk beds and a community bathroom. We got dressed and went out to eat at a French restaurant. I opted for an... Italian meal. It was good, but definitely French style Italian food. We went back to the hotel, napped and then decided to make something of what was left of our day and walked up to Monmarte to see a church on top of the hill and eat dinner. We took the funicular up to the top to see the stoic church peering over Paris. We walked inside the church, to which we saw a mass in progress. The church was absolutely gorgeous inside, with a complete mosaic covering the ceiling over the alter depicting Jesus and his disciples. I was baffled and amazed at the amount of detail that went into every pillar, pew, and arch in that church, only to be out shone by the Notre Dame later in the weekend. We walked around the town of Monmarte after seeing the church and ate dinner at a crepes place, followed by gelato. (pictured: our room, church on top of Monmarte, painting shop in the town).





After walking around we decided to have a relaxing night. We walked to a restaurant near our hotel and ordered two bottles of wine and just sat around a table talking. There was a live band playing music, which was a perfect supplement to our wine, appetizers and conversation. The seemingly endless day closed down around 11:30 pm, where I found myself showered, cozy, and asleep in my bed resting for Saturday's bike tour throughout Paris.