Saturday, May 12, 2012

Signing Out From Dublin

I'm sitting here writing this post, trying to sum up all of the experiences and emotions I've felt over the last 4 months in this tiny little country, and it's surprisingly harder than I thought. I've decided to compare Ireland (perhaps appropriately) to a rainstorm, to try to convey what it meant to me.



(Note, if you studied in Ireland this semester and are uncomfortable with leaving, this may promote the rapid growth of tears on your cheeks)

 
1. When you look outside and see it raining, you don't necessarily want to go out- I was originally anxious about coming overseas. Dublin was the only city I've lived in, it's across a big blue ocean that you can't exactly drive across, and I would be leaving the comfort of my friends, family (and yes, even my blackberry) at home. I kept saying that I would be happy enough studying back at UNC, and I was just doing this semester for the experience. It's like when you need to run out to the grocery store to buy paprika for a recipe that really doesn't need paprika, but would go so much better if you had paprika.



2. At first, the exhiliration of being comfortable in your coat and feeling the rain drops propels you to your goal- The novelty of walking down the streets of dublin, catching the bus around town, meeting all the new people, getting used to new brands like Insomnia, Tayto, Londis, Berry's, Guinness were exciting. Pub culture is something I never had experienced before, having only just turned the ripe age of 21. Hearing the unique accents from North/South Dublin, North Ireland, Cork, and Galway was enthralling. Walking the quay and catching cabs and being metropolitan was amazing. Planning all the trips around Ireland and Europe just made me downright giddy. 

  3. ...That is, until the water seeps through your clothes and shoes and wets you to the bone- Culture shock is still culture shock, and after that initial excitement, all the anxieties come back to attack you. It was about a month in that I got incredibly homesick, and the only thing I could think about was counting down the days until I went back home. Whether this was the result of things occurring at home, or the experience I was having here, I felt like I just wanted to go back to UNC and forget the Irish education I was experiencing at UCD. It just was too overwhelming, maybe I had made the wrong decision coming to Ireland.

4. So you step inside for a hot minute at the pub to dry off- I had a couple trips to places like Barcelona/Valencia/Madrid/Paris with some amazing friends from back home. Seeing them was fantastic, and gave me that touch of home I had been missing. They gave me some great advice and the fraternal love I felt was exactly what I needed at the time. It reminded me of the fantastic support system I know I have all around the world, and gave me a good amount of confidence to step back out into the rainstorm.

5. After putting on a warmer coat, you step back into the rainstorm- I think it was really around St. Paddy's day that I really got comfortable with the people I knew here in Ireland. I stopped relying on UNC and its people to be responsible for my happiness and/or entertainment, and the best relationships I created (possibly ever) stemmed from right around this point. This was the catastrophe-or turning point- that I needed to get back in a groove. Trips to Malin Head, nights out around Dublin, doing La Revencha de Romeo y Julieta.. all gave me incredible memories I treasure and will continue to treasure.

6. Getting to the grocery store (preferably tesco) down the street)- You get to the store and realize that while you wanted paprika originally, now you think you want to try the cajun spices, or the garlic powder, or the parsley to add to the dish. Whatever I was thinking of what would come out of the other side of a trip to Ireland originally, I'm sure it's not this. I would like to say this experience didn't just leave me wet and angry that I didn't see a leperchaun. Looking back and seeing the rumspringa that occurred over the semester, I would change few things. Never the holistic experience though.

Oh yea, and I went to class one or two times.



(Note, here I tried to list everything I was going to miss about Ireland, but I could never be all-inclusive of everything, so I just gave up)



I know it's still raining outside, and I'm sure it will always be raining in Ireland. Now, at this point, I'd rather stay here with all my friends than go back across (ironic twist of events). I guess that's just part of the adventure. Maybe you just have to be soaked to the bone and go crazy in order to love this place.




From Dublin, with craíc, thank you all for going along with me during this semester. It's been amazing



Monday, May 7, 2012

Parliament, Playing Ball, and People in the IRA

I refuse to acknowledge the end to this wonderful semester I've had, so this will definitely not be a wrap up post. This is just a bi-weekly update
This blog entry will be brought to you in BULLET POINT ATTACK! form

  • Finals time here in Dublin! I found that in the majority of the essays I turned in for class, very few actually contained pertinent information we obtained during lectures. 90% of the material on these final 3 papers due last week had to do with outside research (mostly written by the lecturers (but still)). Also, it's completely a different sense of business here. Instead of rushing to finish finals and get the students off campus, UCD stretches their testing into a 3 week dragged out process to allow real studying and review here. With two tests on Wednesday, I'll be done with my Irish educational experience. However, studying Dr. Dre and the west coast hip-hop movement doesn't really make me feel like I'm studying at all.

Dre says LEEEARRRNNN


Minister Ruari Quinn and Gil Ross
Croke Park with the Irishmen
  • My blogging for Ireland's company "Education in Ireland" turned out to be a fruitful pursuit. I ended up going to the closing ceremony 2.5 weeks ago at the Department of Education in Dublin 1.  It was a posh event where I got to meet the people in charge of the organization, other students who had been blogging (about 20 in all), and even the Minister of Education over coffee. He gave a lecture talking about how Ireland was increasingly becoming one of the most popular places to study in the world, and how Ireland was an agrarian peripheral state (by constitutional decree) as recently as 30 years ago. It was really interesting (in addition to other things I've learned) to see what direction Ireland was heading in. After his speech, we got a fancy photo and oversized certificate celebrating the 4 copy/paste jobs I did from this blog to that one. Where would we be without modern technology? Afterwards, we got to tour the upper and lower houses of Parliament (an invitation-only venue) and got steak on the expense of Education in Ireland. It was a really great experience overall, and I'm really enthused that I could contribute to the cause.
  • My lovely friends found student tickets to go to Croke park to watch the final between counties Cork and Mayo in Gaelic football. Having no prior knowledge of Gaelic football, I went in with no expectations. Essentially, it's a lot like rugby, except you can't tackle people, you have to dribble the ball every five steps, you can score goals like in soccer, kick/throw it over football-like uprights...ok. So you're right, it's nothing like football. However, we did get to see a fight between the two teams, and no one died. high points of the game included the stadium hotdog for 4€ I've craved for so long. Normal points include that it was raining and cold and windy and we were sitting out in the open (normal because I've given up complaining about the weather. I've learned to love the fact that it's raining right now. And 50 degrees.) BUT DEFINITELY GET OUT TO CROKE PARK IF YOU COME TO DUBLIN. Including the GAA museum on the ground floor. After that, my friend Tommy Wallace stopped over in Dublin on his way back from Barcelona, and I gave him a 4 hour tour of Dublin between the hours of 12-4 am. As expected, there's not a lot open besides the kebab shops at the time. Oh well.
  • I made it out to Cork (again) with a much greater appreciation of the surroundings this time. You never realize how small a place is until you spend a lot of time in a city with public transportation. We walked across the city in close to 15 minutes, browsing their shops, the english market (like a farmer's market but w/ super super cheap prices). Also, I'd highly recommend going to Shelia's hostel. When we finished touring the city during the day, we came back to the hostel, watched Martin McDonagh's "In Bruges" and just chilled for the day (it was raining, so we stayed inside and warm). I was sitting in the lobby just reading alone when the hostel owner came up to me and started talking about the IRA influence in Ireland and the differences between Cork and Dublin. He had apparently spent some time in Oregon, and claimed it was the most racist, backcountry place he had ever been to. I saw comparisons to rural TN. He told us stories about times during the Irish conflict including a comedic anecdote about the Mortar attacks on London Heathrow by the IRA during the break-down in peace talks in the 90's. Apparently, the IRA launched 4 dead mortars at the roof of terminal 4 as a "message." He just wrote this up to dark Irish humour. Then he gave us some great connections and we went out into the city and had some good craíc. Other highlights of the trip include a voyage down to Cobh and Kinsdale, which were big sites for the Titanic. One of the more chill trips I've taken during the semester. I've basically learned that if you insult the british whilst in Ireland, you'll curry favor pretty quickly





    Sorry for the format, it appears that blogspot doesn't take too kindly to bullet form. One might say that they're bulletproof. Anyways, I'll probably have a wrap-up post of Ireland in about a week, when I've come to grips with the fact that I have to leave this emerald Isle and don't have any studying to do. Slaínte!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

My Experience in Tights: Spanish Shakespeare

I'm going to start off with the customary apology for my lack of blog entries. I'd tell you it was because I was busy, but I'm taking this time to blog because I don't want to finish my Directing notebook for my final in Performing Beckett (it's amazing how apathy increases as you approach the finish line. My will-power is currently being held in a thimble).

LA REVENCHA

So, we had quite the week(s) here in Dublin. After the family left, we started heavy rehearsal for the critically acclaimed production of La Revencha de Romeo (if my friends count as critics (and if "You did really well, but we don't speak Spanish and what was with the ending" counts as criticism).

Really, What was with the ending? And does this bird actually live in Venice?
We started running rehearsals from 5-8 the last week of, culminating with a 11-6 rehearsal on saturday where we went until the alarms signifying the school was going on lock-down went off. I would like to be optimistic and say I was super ready for the show come the end of the 7 hour rehearsal, but we didn't actually finish the run-through (both act 1/2), and spent a lot of time working through the technical aspects. In fact, we didn't finish running through the show at all until about 7:15 on monday, the night of the first production (for those of you keeping track back home, yes, the audience showed up at 7:30). But, we somehow managed through the first production running on pure adrenaline. Aside from the ending, we did smashingly well, selling out 73 seats (for the first time in UCD Spansoc history), and nobody died! I really put emphasis on that part now because at the time I was completley unsure.

Well, almost nobody died (RIP Tibaldo, Mercury)

Apparently, even the Argentinian ambassador to Ireland showed up. Talk about swanky!
We had a two day break before our next performance, in which period Dramsoc managed to come in and alter every single lighting cue we had put into place as well as altering the performance space without really telling us. They were great about being good hosts. Good job you guys. (overall, my experience with Dramsoc at UCD was not a good one. Not to be a negative nancy, it's just they proved to be incredibly exclusive in a strange combination with pretension. I'd highly recommend finding an alternate route to channel your artistic endeavors if you decide to come here) After fixing it all, we put on a smashing performance. I'll avoid personal criticism, but it turned out much much better than I originally feared it would be.

We did our cast party at Pacino's on Suffolk street for Tapas and wine, followed by a cast outing to Dandelion on St. Stephen's Green. I'm incredibly happy I spent time with these people no matter how afraid of the production I originally was. Thanks for the experience Spanish Society at UCD!

Side notes:

I was going to make this longer to include my story about being invited to Irish Parliament (Leinster house), but I'll break that into another story to tell another day (possibly tomorrow). So, look forward to that. Also, today Barack Obama, Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert, Dave Matthews, and the Roots are all at UNC. Thank God I'm not missing anything back home.

Summer's coming! I'm not unhappy here, but I'm excited at the prospect of coming home. I've got concerts to attend, friends to see, and the world of a 21-year-old to uncover. States May 22nd, and Chapel Hill for good starting June 9th. See you there.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Reliving the glory of being 8 again: The Ring of Kerry

Huge shout out to my family for visiting me this week, and reminding me that there is in fact another place in the world that possesses warmth, sunlight, and short-wearing temperature.

(Also, I heard this week you write a lot like the people you read, so I'll try to avoid using the Ulysses style Joyce is so fond of)

So, as I was listing places to go to in Ireland, taking advice from friends both at home and study abroad, I was told there was one place I absolutely couldn't miss: The Cliffs of Moher...
That's a nice looking coast, you might say

And I haven't been there yet, but also, I was told that the Ring of Kerry was nice as well. SO! That brings us to our story.

After my family arrived on Easter Sunday, I took them on a small walking tour of the city centre of Dublin. Everything was basically closed down for the bank holiday the first two days I could spend with them, but we did the Hop-on Hop-off tour and saw Boyle's tomb at St. Patrick's cathedral (of Boyle's law fame, WHERE MY SCIENCE N3RDS @), went to the Guinness factory to do the 360 bar (this is time #2),  and drove through phoenix park to see the wild red deer that inhabit it. It was quite a treat, and I ate better in those two days than I had in my entirety of cooking for myself in Ireland.

This is week 11/12 of UCD's courses, so unfortunately I didn't get to spend too much time with them tuesday-thursday due to final projects and rehearsals for La Revencha de Romeo y Julieta (showing this monday/thursday in a theatre far away from you). I managed to take out Patrice and Allison on Wednesday night, going on a small pub crawl to show them the wonders of the irish bar. We actually met someone from TN in Temple bar, small world, eh?

So, after my family went off to the Cliffs of Moher on thursday, I was all set to go spend the day with them on friday (my day off from classes) to see the west coast of Ireland in all its pastoral tranquility. Patrice decided that she didn't want to spend another 9 hours in the car, so she stayed behind as we piled in at 9 o clock for our trip to the County Kerry.

After snoozing for the first few hours (I knew all the sheep on the way by this point, no reason to stay awake and see them again), we hit Killarny at around noonish? This signifies the start of the ring, and we decided to do it counter clockwise. I'll go ahead and post some photos here:

If you look really close, you can see a leprechaun
Oh, it's actually in this one
Did I say Leprachaun? I meant a Laugh-ness monster
(It's Nessie's Irish cousin)
Well, anyways, we stopped at a seafood place about 1/3rd of the way through to eat and grab the mandatory pint of Guinness. QC's. Seafood. If you're ever driving through, it's not bad. It didn't start raining until well after halfway through, and it was just overall a jarring experience being in a car again.

That's not a comment on dad's anyone's driving, it's just sitting in the back seat of a car with packed food and a book reminded me of the younger days when we would trip to Florida or the mountains for a weekend break.

But overall, I would say that Lonely Planet accurately described the experience as "Jaw-dropping" with incredibly contrast between the vast open ocean and the sharp jagged purple mountains looming over you. It's the only place I've been where I could've seen something like that with so few people. But it didn't feel super tourist-y, the people were generally nice, and I got some wicked pictures out of it.

I bet Patrice was sad she stayed at home.

Not a bad trip, team Thompson. Thanks for coming!


Other notes: If you're interested in coming to see the show (or a recording), please let me know! Also, I'm feeling in a really baseball mood right now, half-season tickets to the Durham Bulls for the summer, anyone? One more week of class!


Saturday, April 7, 2012

Alice in Funderland x2: A Secular Dublin Experience



So, I've been trying to expand my knowledge of Dublin culture as well as Dublin theatre, as you may well know, and this means going to all stages of theatre here in Dublin.

Today, that meant going to see the revival of the Ireland adapted musical Alice in Funderland at the Abbey theatre....for the second time.

NOW HOLD ON A MINUTE. I know what you're thinking. "Are you mental? Going to see a show that you have to pay 15€ for twice? In two weeks? What with all the material flying around Dublin-like. Me own da wouldn't have even given me the funds fer tha..."

Sorry, I think I fell into a proverbial perceived Irish audience rabbit hole there for a minute. Let me explain.

So, the first time I saw this show, last friday, I went with my buddies Ryan and Jani from UNC. I noticed that previews were only running at 13€ for the night, whereas if we waited for the actual production, it would augment up to 15€. I was really saving us all money AND we would get to see the very first show at the Abbey. It was just a good idea all around. So we went.

The first thing you want to hear in a show does not go something like this.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, but we only finished up the last tech run 2 hours ago, so there might be a few errors with this performance, however have a cocktail on me.."

And the first person you want to see saying that first thing you don't want to hear is the artistic director...but I digress. I'll hit the plot points.

The play followed the general premise of Alice in Wonderland, with Alice (frequently referred to as Mary Anne by the Dublin 8 Warren character subbing in for the white rabbit) making a trip from Cork to Dublin to find a guy who dropped off raspberry-flavored glacier spring water for her sister's impending wedding. It turns into a chase to find her "lost love" Warren and a bunch of hijinx about the Cork-Dublin rivalry with pokes at the common North/South dubliner's expense. With her finding her way to "the castle" (actually a shady nightclub on the south side) to confront "the queen dolores" (actually a sexually ambiguous tyrant looking to exploit her daughter for money (think Hairspray minus the fat-suit)).

The play is incredibly meta-theatrical, where the audience is frequently referenced throughout the show, as well as mentions of lines like "I hope the audience isn't bored/understands this/will think the next act is great," yet still struck home with some poignant themes on love and loss.

The premise of Alice's chasing Warren revolves around the loss of her ex-boyfriend, who apparently died choking on a peanut. (Loss)
Alice in one scene prevents a character from roller-skating off the edge of the roof due to his recent break-up with his boyfriend ("The text just said that there was no we in madonna").
Alice is eventually thrown in the jail where she meets "the sisters" who have succumbed to the fact that dreams are merely that, and you have to stand on your own two feet to survive.

All these concepts of loss mix with a emphasis on flamboyancy, almost defiant anti-heterosexuality, and life in a world where God does not hold all the cards ( "And that God guy, he's just not there, so go on, get off your knees"). For a musical based on being lost, they really hit the nail on the head. Alice's love proves unrequited, and the show only ends with her being happy about what she does have.

It's not carpe-diem, it's only faire-en-raison.

For it being a farcical production, I think it definitely had legitimate moments that gave me chills. I couldn't classify it. I couldn't put it in a box to make things easier. This is either the tragi-comedy I've come so used to seeing in Irish Drama or a musical designed to attack the status quo.

Regardless of how prepared they were the first time I saw it, I think they really got their wits about them for the second production. I'm happy I got the invitation to see it from my friend Katy, because I had a much better interpretation the second time. The universal sense of bereavement really stuck out along with the fact that you're just going to have to stand on your own two feet.  It's a good kick in the pants to make you embrace the world you have around you. Or at least to make do with it.




PS:
Celebration time. We hit 2000 views with the last post. Thanks for being a wonderful listening audience! Love you guys.



Thursday, April 5, 2012

Blogging for education preview #3


I was up sending my friend Vanessa off to the at 6 AM, and just got the green light for this entry in my inbox, so I decided to post. Enjoy!
 
Making up 100% of the class's attendance
 
My Protestants, Papists, and Popular Belief: A History of the Reformation class seemed to be an enthralling choice when I was signing up for classes. I’ve always had a passing interest in history, and I figured that I might as well find out some information about the religious background of Ireland while I was here.
Not only was the lecture my first one at UCD, it gave me a vague understanding of how the professors would address the class for the rest of the semester. So there was a lot riding on this first day.
 
The lecture was only an hour, but was paired with a 1-hour “small” group meeting that they call a tutorial here (sometimes they call it a recitation back home). So, we learned about King Henry VIII and his need for the heir and the Tudor dynasty..etc, but the real important part was our involvement in the talk-back during the small group sessions with our professor.
 
So, one of the more overwhelming fears I’ve had in my time at University is a fear of being in a one-on-one situation with professors. Call it a fear of authority, or maybe just a problem with intimacy, but it’s a problem I’ve always had. At UNC, we have Teaching Assistants come in and give you the information in small groups, so you don’t have to insult the teacher by not knowing the material. It’s like a buffer system.
 
I walk into my required tutorial after glancing at my notes from class and relying on the fact that other students will be able to help me out. At this point, I’m still arriving to class relatively early to make sure I’m in the correct room (most of the time, students here arrive exactly on time or a couple minutes late). So, I pull up a chair/desk, sit down in this expansive lecture hall, and wait for the others to arrive.
 
And wait.
 
With about 2 minutes left until class, I peak my head out to see my surroundings. I’m beginning to get nervous, because I’m still the only person here. There has to be some mistake. I’ve come to the wrong room. That can be the only solution. But no, instead I see my professor come ambling down the hall, walking through the door on the far side of the room.
 
My professor, Dr. Mark Empey, takes a glance around the room, and motions at a single wooden table with two chairs at the front. After explaining to me briefly that there was some confusion with registration and that the class wasn’t available when it was supposed to be, he smiles and informs me that
 
“You will be the only student enrolled in this section”
 
Now, I’m not one with a weak constitution normally, but the concept of spending an hour with Mark probing what I absorbed from his class gave me the combined need to faint/run away/cry/throw things across the room.
 
It actually ended up being a blessing in disguise, as Mark was generally ok with the fact that I wasn’t COMPLETELY prepared for the meeting, and humorous with the fact that I made up 100% of the class. We ended up meeting this way for a couple more weeks before I transferred into a bigger section, much to my surprised chagrin.
 
The material may have disappeared into the back of my head, but the memory of the day I conquered my fear of professors will live on.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Sex District Theology at the Moulin Rouge: Paris Pt. 2

And we'll get to that in a minute, promise....

I spaced out the posts for a day to give the optimal amount of time for all my readers back home to......sorry, I just got out of a test and I think my creative answer side is flairing up....I got lazy and busy, so I decided to just not do it.

But, I'm here today to give you the rest of the riveting information.

PARIS, DAY 2

We woke up around 9:30, and realized in our fatigue the night before that we weren't actually sleeping on pillows. Still not the worst place I've stayed in my life (see anywhere on the Appalachian Trail). After figuring out the metro station, we ended up wandering to the left bank near a university to catch the famous Breakfast in America, where we were enticed with "American Pancakes" (versus the normal crepe sized pancakes in the rest of France), "Bottomless Cups of Joe" (not actually bottomless if served to you after you're halfway through your food, damn you successful budget saving techniques!), and American music (Half of what came on the radio was the Beatles).

You'll never guess what was on the diner TV

I think it was a bigger thing for Dan and Jason than me, as Ireland strives at points to be American and to live up to that standard (as well as my eating American based meals when I'm cooking your own food here). But it was a nice change.

There were a couple of things we had missed the day before in the Louvre, so we decided to dash back and check those for a couple hours.
Like this bust. I really wanted to see this bust
Dan Brown told me this is where Jesus is buried

We almost got away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids...
The Code of Hammurabi: Basically, you're going to lose a hand
So, that about wrapped up our time at the Louvre. We were trying to go to the Musée d'Orseé (Spelling is definitely wrong) afterwards, so we headed down to that section across the Seine to try to find lunch.

After about a 30 minute walk looking for food less than 10€, we grumpily gave up and sat down to eat at a bistro across the street. By the time we got out of lunch, it was about 4 and the museum was closing at 5:30. We turned the corner and were greeted...

By the longest line to get into the tar...uhh, museum.
After deliberating on staying and waiting and only getting about an hour or so to see the museum or just finding something else, we decided to wait it out. As soon as we joined the que, they opened up another entry and made it super quick to get into the museum.

Because we're students studying at EU universities with visas, we don't have to stand in line in Paris to pay for tickets. We just show our visas and student IDs and get in. This was a slight problem, as Dan didn't actually have his Visa. And Jason was carrying around his Passport, so we luckily managed to convince the door guard to let those two in. I used my Garda card, and breezed right through without a problem.

We weren't actually supposed to take photos inside the museum, but didn't see that until the end of the tour, so I'll just post what I had:

Cue impressionist painting
Hi, dad.

This is ART people.
For a heads up, I'm normally not an art person. I will appreciate it, I will gander at great creations and wonder how they thought it up. But normally, I'm not one to sit and discuss it at length. But something about the impressionist art made me angry at aesthetics. When looking at it from across the room, it was fantastic and showed wonderful perspective. When looking at it from 2 feet away, it looked like something I could've done. Jason and I both agreed that we were going to buy a 20 foot long dining room table and put impressionist pieces on both ends. And alternative nights we're going to sit on opposite sides of the 20 footer.

LIFE PLANS FOLKS

After leaving, we wanted to head up to Sacre-Couer, which is the basilica on top of the hill in Paris. We caught the train up, walked around inside for a bit, then ended up getting dinner in the area. We were getting kinda sleepy based on all of our travels, but the food cheered us up quite a bit. After eating, we ended up right below the basilica when it was lit up, and it looked almost something like this...
Paris by Twilight
We wandered down the hill into the city, to find ourselves surrounded by the sex district...right underneath the basilica. After purchasing some cider, we ended up sitting on a bench next to La Moulin Rouge. And of course the concept of God came up.

So we ended up debating the merits of comparative religion and our surroundings for the next few hours until we got tired. There were no significant conclusions reached, I just thought it was notable that's what we ended up talking about.

And then I made it back to Dublin.

Until my next crazy adventure, keep on rocking world.

Monday, March 26, 2012

John Henson is Huge!! (in France): A Weekend in Paris pt. 1

My faithful followers! How are we doing?

A bit a business to get out of the way: Since I did not finish the Spain adventures, I'll just recap the last three days in a minimalist amount. If you really do wish to hear more about Valencia/Madrid, I will be happy to relay the information to you in a heartfelt personal message. Otherwise, we'll have the following conversation.

"How was Valencia/Madrid"
"It was good!"

Statements: There were a lot of unexpected explosions in Valencia. Irish pubs are everywhere. Paella. Mwiti had his last glass of Guinness. Bus/Bus/Flight. Mwiti gets us free lodging. Nightmares for the entire night before I left about missing my flight. Made my flight.

NOW, onto the business of PARIS

Or the one with the big tower.

DAY 1:
 
After waking up at 2:30 AM (3 hours of sleep) to ensure I didn't miss my 4 AM bus to the airport, I hastily packed, ate the rest of my perishable food, and took a long shower knowing I wouldn't get a chance to do this with the rest of my weekend. I not only MADE MY INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT, but also made it early to Dublin Airport for my 6:30 flight. (Currently we're 3-4, 75% is still a solid C).

The flight wasn't bad, there's apparently a family of rabbits that live on the tarmac at Dublin airport T1, and I snapped up a lucky #23 seat knowing that we were playing UOhio later that day. Coming out of Ireland was pretty neat, because I actually saw the sun about Dublin. I just had to get to cruising altitude to do it.

After arriving in Beauvais-Tallé around 9:00 French time, I had to take what turned out to be a 1.5 hour bus into the northwest corner of the city amid my fellow passengers habloing speaking parle-ing the Francaise.

About my history with French: If I thought my Spanish was rusty, I promise my 3 years of French in high school were that much worse. Luckily, I had planned out my attack to get to the hotel by Gare de L'Est and meet Jason. So, after about another hour on the Paris metro, we finally reunited for a second time this semester in a dingy little hotel 2 minutes from the metro.

After grabbing a quick lunch of Baguette Jambon et Fromage and a FANTASTIC croissant, we met up with his friend for about an hour and walked through a French market. Not nearly as impressive as the markets we walked through in Spain. Then we took a walk down to the Cathedral de Notre-Dame after passing by the monument to Bastille along the Seine while jabbering on about the fantastic basketball team we have back home. Photos as follows:
If you look SUPER close, you can see a hunchback singing to a beautiful Gypsy

After walking through the revered halls, and lighting a candle in what can only be described as an enticing spiritual experience, Jason and I took in my first French café. It was an espresso. For 1€. Standing at a counter. But it was still the best coffee I've had in a long time. Why don't we do that in Dublin? Let's get better at that, team.

After imbibing the coffee, we jetted over to the Eiffle Tower and make the 706 foot climb up the stairs to see the wonderfully spread out city of Paris. Pictures, you ask?
Note the blue sky


After being on top of the Eiffel Tower, I have absolutely no more fear of heights. Not that I did in the first place, but being able to be at 300m up and look out without any tingle of suspense is an AWESOME feeling. One of the best moments I've had this entire trip without doubt.

After making the way back down, we ended up tripping up the Champs de Lysees (sp?), and looked at all the fancy shops. Abercrombie and Fitch has a golden gated community. No joke. We also found a special friend in the Nike store about halfway up.

Oh HAY John Henson
Afterwards, we ended up at the Arc du Triumph, where they were having a ceremony honoring the 7 victims who had fallen in Toulouse just the day before. Perhaps because I was completely exhausted from traveling and the week before, it turned out to be a very eerie unsettling experience. It should've been a reverent one, but just the concept of being that close to the result of terrorism really brought me out of my comfort zone in a big way. Jason is from NYC, and yet I had a more adverse reaction to it. It really gives you a instant sense of frailty and fear of random violence.

But how about we just go on living and being goofballs for the sake of this blog?

After retrieving our good friend Dan from the train station and checking into the hotel, we ended up going back to the Louvre to see how things looked for the last hour before they closed. It was totally free for students (awesome) and we were able to see the Mona Lisa and most of the Renaissance art. We didn't have nearly enough time to go through and appreciate it like we did with the Impressionist art at Musée d'Orsay (sp? also, preview for tomorrow), but it was still quite neat. I'll post my favorites:

  
Dan has a sexy cat pose
Venus of Milo
SMILE, MONA LISA!
So, after being removed from the museum via some nice herding work by the employees of the Louvre, we walked up the Seine by the moonlight, stopped in a store, picked up some wine, and headed to the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower. We were greeted at about 11 by some fantastic light show that happens about every hour.

We ran into another girl in their program, Beth, at the base, and deliberated about heading to the Latin Quarter to see the French nightclubs before eventually agreeing that 23 hours was too long to be awake, and went back to the hotel to go to sleep. Full day in Paris.

Preview for next post:



ALSO: Please consider looking at my sister's site for raising money to fight Crohn's and Colitis. She's raising money by biking. How cool is that? You don't even have to do any exercise. You just have to look and read about why she wants to. Check it out



Sunday, March 18, 2012

"Paddy's in Ireland Isn't Going to be that big a deal..."

EXCEPT IT IS.

Everywhere I went and everyone I talked to before I came to Ireland claimed that the infamous St. Paddy's Day (That spelling is correct, mind you) was just a completely Americanized event made out just to push people into bars and sell products with an Irish theme. Like Valentine's day (thanks hallmark!) Now, I don't mean to be condescending, but that's absolutely the furthest thing from the truth possible.

And it's only 70% tourists

I'll start with Friday: The big event was the craft beer festival that took place on the docks. A bunch of microbreweries came into town and set up to sell. Apparently, Guinness basically had a monopoly on selling beer in Ireland until about 1996. Kind of like the walmart of Dublin (except they sell a mighty fine product). They would buy up the smaller breweries, then instead of using the land they bought, simply turn the land into a park or some other contribution to the city of Dublin. Then the government started subsidizing microbreweries to promote Irish companies. All things we got to hear from a free talk on the history of brewing in Ireland. Also, I now can tell you the difference between a beer and an ale (historically)

My friend Lucas from Oak Ridge came into town to celebrate the festivities, and the first thing I did was drag him into Carroll's across the street from the spire to buy him as much obnoxious green as we could. Because I didn't want him to be out of place for the following day. I know this seems super tourist-y, but they actually have the cheapest green material in the city.

Here's some advice for Paddy's. If you want to buy IRISH food either the day of or the day before big festivals, get ready to wait about an hour. And they don't really have reservations here either. After wandering around north Dublin for a while, we finally settled on a noodles bar on the street.

Saturday:

Only very rarely have I woken up feeling like it was Christmas on days other than Christmas (usually on days where I drive back to UNC, Basketball games at UNC, etc...), but I popped out of bed at 7 45 AM with a smile on my face. After rousing Lucas awake, we decked out in our green.

I went business casual, Lucas found a green shirt later on
We met up with a couple friends, and got into the city super early to get good spots for the parade. This was unbelievably packed. I'll just post a few photos and then explain why the floats all look like someone designed them in a drug-induced haze.

Roommates! The only time I've run into people I know on the streets of Dublin thus far.

We were on Dame Street across from the central bank

Not technically Irish






OK, that's a good taste of what we were experiencing. Now, let me tell you why there were dragons and wooden horses on the streets of Dublin.

From what I understand, the parade seems to be an artist's dream. There were tons of different groups from every corner of Ireland, and they were introduced by signs that announced what county they belonged to. As far as I can tell, each county submits a group to perform. It's like a friendly competition. There were some interesting floats, and I kept finding a child-like enthusiasm every time something new would pass.

"LUCAS LOOK AT THAT ONE" "OH MY GOSH, LOOK AT THIS ONE" came out of my mouth more than once.

The parade was pretty fun, however, in my infinite wisdom, I thought a coat would be unnecessary because the sun was shining in my window when I woke up. Thus, in the hour we were waiting for the parade to start, the rain was piercingly cold.

After the parade, we got lunch at a place off grafton street, where I was just excited to be inside. Lucas was only in for the day, so we decided to wander around the city and see the big spots. After walking to the Jameson Distillery and looking at the 50 minute wait, we then walked down to the Guinness factory to see how massive it was, St. Patrick's Cathedral...


In Paddy's (Garden), at Paddy's (Cathedral) on Paddy's (day)

...Trinity College, and finally an attempt to see St. Stephen's Green (which was closed because by then all the 15 year olds who were out drinking had been properly drunk to the point where it was not hygienic to walk through the green anymore).

It was interesting to watch the cops (gardá), as they wouldn't even fine people who were carrying around open containers, they would just point in the general direction of a trashcan and hope the people would go that way. It was almost to the point of futility, however.

After running back to get a coat, I met up with the team at a restaurant on Baggot street where they finished up eating and we headed out for our Irish pub experience. We ended up well away from the commercial district at this place called Scruffy Murphy's to meet up with our friends.We drank a couple pints, sang some karaoke, danced a lot, and called it a night.

Best weekend in Dublin thus far.