Corey Sudduth: World Traveller

That's what my third copy of my ticket to Boston said. Man, the last few days have been beyond words. Not in a "so amazing" way, and not in a "what a bummer" way either. The last two months and even more so the last five or six have really given me incredible perspective. I've been to Europe, read a few chapters on how complicated women can be, had a lot of alone time to think, and met many new people. Not to mention graduated from the audience :) Woah... I feel like throughout High School I had so much I could've been and done but it just wasn't my time. All of the events and missed opportunities that gave me a truly unique High School experience were not what put me in this position of ?stasis? not quite right but I'm for once at a loss. It was me. That's what I'm trying to say. All the teachers and adults and peers in the world could've told me and I shrugged it off. I believed it, but I didn't want to accept it. But at the same time, I didn't want to blame life. I'm just so glad that I took this opportunity to jump out into the world even if it was only a short hokey pokey. I see now that I was doing the oppsite of what I had preached since I was wee. I was looking! I've always said that the best things in life come to you rather than you to them. Yet, when I wanted to do well at something, or try something new I would look to it to "strike inspiration in me" or wait for something to push me. I just need to do things, I simply needed drive not inspiration. Inspiration will come in time but for now I need to take the things I love, draw them close, and make something of it. Just because! The worst part is that this trip has only extended the list of things I want to do and be. I'm pretty sure now though that I have time to try them all, with the grace of God, so I'm totally game. It's a pretty awesome feeling really. Alright enough of the silly manifesto. I'm'a be honest my last few days in Amsterdam were a bit of a blur. I went out the first day and walked the whole North, South, and West of that city. The next couple days I would find first dayers and take them out (on them) sorta like a coffeeshop sherpa. It was a little ridiculous for sure. The last day I went on a great tour of the Oude (eastside) area it's got a name after old but I forget. It was freezing cold out and the wind was pissed at me for having the audacity to go on a walking tour I guess. So by the time I got back to Jordaan ('hood where my last hostel was on the westside [has anyone else noticed I always stay on the Westside?]) I was ready for a serious nap. I awoke to total boredom with a dash of loneliness. I tried to solve that by visiting the Hotel Utopia (one of my favorite's) where I got roped into a purchase I later regretted and came back to my bed at around nine feeling like a whirlypool. I was sick feeling, freezing, greasy, overwhelmingly pleased to be in Amsterdam sippin a hot cocoa, and thrilled to be on my way home. It was then that I went back out with some money I hadn't realized I had and chowed on some Doner and pancake. At the Doner place I saw my flight was in ten hours and someone had told me (not for the first time) that international meant a 3 hour early arrival. Shit! Pardon me but I was ready for bed and I had to be up at like 5:30 to catch a tram, to a train, to a plane...yeah, I had a coffee and didn't sleep much. I did manage to have freaky dreams and kept waking up with my blankets on the floor in the fetal position. Yeah best not to ask :{ So I roll into the now infamous Schipol airport at 7 cause I woke up from my 31st catnap a little late. I had some pizza and was doin alright chuckling at the unmanned security checks at every gate rather than at the entrance to the gate area. From there I had a crazy day. First the machine tried to swallow my 2euro and because I had 2 hours on my hands I spent about an hour doin Power Ranger moves with a stir stick fighting that machine like it was alive (pretty sure it was) and when I finally heard the *clink* I nearly broke into song and dance. Then I looked that macine in the eyes and realized it had forgotten I wanted stroopwafel and so had simply taken my money as a generous donation to it's well being. I was heated. Now with about twenty minutes left till take-off I turned towards the gate wondering why we weren't boarding yet and bumped right into one of the people from my flight (a ways down the hall with me and the devil machine) and looked past him to see that I had been fighting for the last few minutes in what was now the middle of a lengthy line. The airport folks actually waited till, in flight terms the last fucking minute, and then decided they were gonna get everyone in line, check them and their bags, and then board, with their own little passport check machine and everything; to expediate the process of course (my passport had already been checked twice). Got on and the flight was delayed 45 minutes while they counted, recounted, re-recounted and then interviewed everyone on the plane (truth) to make sure they weren't one person short, or maybe one extra? I don't know. The pilot was great he just kept blaming the airport (whose fault it turned out it was) and kept apoligizing on behalf of Aer Lingus. One mispelled last name, an hour and half, two more runs through customs and security, a jog across Dublin International and a missed connection later I was receiving a ticket to London and a connection ticket to Boston. Oh good I'll only get there three hours later, great. So I arrive in Heathrow, travel from terminal 1 (Detroit) to terminal 5 (El Paso) and got a reprint of my boarding pass (the titlesake). While we waited I chatted with two other folks going through the same ordeal about cars for an hour. I didn't sleep on the plane. Got back. Missed the bus by fifteen minutes. Waited an hour and a half for the next one, and got rolling. Oh but first we had to go to South Station to make a pick-up (announced in thirderson in a casual btw style). What a bad idea. The driver was pretty much ready to make an evasive maneuver (I realize this after we pulled a U-y after the first police blockade on the off ramp) and pretty dedicated to those potential passengers (dawned on me after we passed the second blockade) and pulled into the city. We actually pulled up on a third blockade (this is South Station so I assume there's a civil war goin on or some shooting or bombing) and the bus driver hopped out and the cops told him there had been a bus (maybe four) that had caught fire (I saw absolutely no sign of this) and we could make our pick-up at the outdoor port. We grabbed our 5 new folks and rolled North watching Encounters at the End of the World, during which you are told that life doesn't really matter and that humanity is a doomed chaotic event in a cosmic series of similar such events. Yeah you guessed it I still coudn't sleep for some reason. I got home here at nearly one and woke up at 8 (cause I'm stupid) and now I'm running on every Christmas cookie in the house and some OJ! Bedonk! I'll be on island soon...I hope. On behalf of Corey Skies I would like to thank you for readng with me these last two months, have a safe onward journey and we hope to be writing for you of some new adventure fairly soon. PEACE OUT YO!

p.s. that was hella longer than I thought...jeesum crow

Spain & Holland

The last 7 days in Barcelona were much awesomer than the first one. I met my new good friends ross and Tupp in the shithole hostel. The three of us came to really like the "character" of our hostel. All of the employees (including friends they number about 20) treated you like a cousin they didn't like much that came to visit. Only one woman ever cleaned our whole floor and the kitchen (she was awesome) and the others wouold close the kitchen to take over and eat and chain smoke. It was all very nice and we found the city to be amazing and then in came the Swedes. The three of them were a whole new fun. There were nights of cheap wine and guitar jams, with a huge cloud of cigarette smoke and "de boobs" our constant companions. The boobs were an ashtray. Most nights we would come back with a pile of groceries make pasta and talk to Will from the State Department. On the last night we saw a movie and I got pasta for free because I spent my last on a Doner Kebab earlier. If you ever visit Europe or the ME hunt for Doner Kebabs and various other kebab, falafal, and pita places. Cheap, greasy fun for the whole family. On my last day I ran round like a chicken with my head cut off worrying that I wouldn't survive in Amsterdam. I found emergency money from one of my accounts and so began the process. Tram, to train, and then to the airport all having had too much wine and constantly worried for some reason. Barcelona Airport is more of a very nice mall than an airport and so (because I got there early) it was looking like a hungry plane ride. I got on the plane though and like a charm I used my incredible power of PTFO and fell asleep before take off. Amsterdam is great. Going out for absinthe in a minute with a pair of Canadians. I have already seen what feels like all the city. That has a lot to do with my missing the last tram over last night. I got in at midnight, dropped a 20 off a bridge, and then headed towards the hostel. I walked and walked. Dutch people though, even at 1 am, are soo friendly. I got directions and advice for coffeeshops, and encouragement from at least 3 people who I didnt even ask! As I got close though it started to snow. It was surreal. Alone and lost in a foreign city walking through a beautiful park with snow gently falling. Then to top it off I took shelter on the stoop of the Van Gogh museum and five minutes later I was snuggled up in a soft bed. I am off now!

Cheers

España!

Barcelona is a beautiful place indeed. I have walked more today then ever in my life I think. If you want to check a map I walked from Plca. Catalunya (the middle) to Montjuic (the bottom) climbed the Jew Mountain till I reached what I thought was the top but found out was a really high middle with magnificent views of the whole city! As I was staring out over Barcelona I was a little bummed that the fountain nearby wasn´t on. So to cure my bummer I grabbed a water and as if by magic that made the fountain turn on. It was muy tranquilo with a jardin full of fragrant greenery and raked gravelly track dirt and the ocean stretching far far away. Lovely. From there it was back home with a pitstop at an open market for the cheapest eggs in Europe and huuuge pimiento rojo. Of course I came out on the wrong side and got lost walking for literally an hour. I got back had a tiny muffin and laid around a bit before I set out to find La Sagrada Familia. That was almost 2 hours ago... I still havent seen it up close. But I did stumble upon Le Arc de Triomf on the way. Well I stumbled upon a sign and then proceeded to stumble upon alley after alley of shops and carrera lined with Sycamores and cafes selling tapas. Eventually this led me to the Arc. It was way more increible than I imagined. I wondered a bit on the path and found a gaggle of old men playing that game with a little red ball and big heavy metal balls. Honestly I have no idea how they kept score or recovered their balls after the toss. They looked the exact same. From there it was more curious wondering adn finally a revelation that only dissapointed when I realized I needed a tarjeta credito with money to rent a bike! Frustrating. Well to backtrack to leaving London. Erica and I took the tube and had lot´s of fun with the seemingly simple fare set-up and went to Buckingham. Where I took maybe 300 bad pictures of Erica. I was under the impression I got at least four good ones but ya know. Mostly it was because the sun was in her eyes and I was having fun taking pics of her squinting for some time. From there we went to the tube and parted ways. Her to Heathrow me to King´s Cross. The train to Luton from there was 12 pounds! I just about burned the place down. The train was quick though and I had fun at the airport for 6 hours lol and ate a few Clif Bars. The first thing I see when I get off the bus in Barcelona. After meeting some Americans in a large group that seemed a. not interested in me and b. young. Well after that my first impression of Spain, as I stubbornly set off to walk to my hostel, was a couple of gay guys making out pretty intensely. On the way to the Ramblas I saw couple after couple of gay guys holding hands. It wasn´t a problem it was just a little surprising seing so many gay couples at once when no one else was out?? At the Ramblas I was offered hash a few times (which I was scared was laced with crack) and then finally gave up on finding my hostel and grabbed a cab. Lesson 1 in my Espanol no es muy bueno. He told me that everything I knew about where I was headed (not much), everything I said in his language, everything I did really and everything the traffic did was not wrong (equivicado) but very dificil. This was his favorite word. "Necesito a la Hostal de Rambla de Catalunya" "Sabes el fir?" "no se" "Oye dificil" and so began my odyssey. I rolled in at midnight and the internet was vroking so they had to go in the back pull a file look me up not find me make me pay then show me the room and tell me to check back later. Flustered. I wish to continue but is not much more. Also I need to book for this weekend...if I can...oh nvm. Um yeah well it´s very nice here. hmmmm... I will be in Holland in a week and hopefully speaking English... to people..not myself. Alright that was a joke I´m not that lonely!

Ciao

Part 2

London...ahhh London. I thought maybe it was a cold and windy desolation but tomight we met Andy (the bartender) and David and Marcos. It is actually quite nice I see now. The conversations that Conrad, Catarina, and Lada have in our room (in German), the eight ball downstairs and Andy's improvised drinks like Flower Power have gicen me hope for this town. Just down the streeet are many competing chicken huts and further along is Edwards and Monsoon two very tasty bakeries I would suggest highly for any truip tp Brent! I am having teourble typing. This is amusing and surprising given I thougyht I had had less tro drink than to hjave this many errors! Two last things 1. if in NW London (Brent) please stayat the No.8 and 2. Scrumpy Jackis the best cider in the UK. Druida and the cheapies also dont have that nasty nose smell but Scrumpy also doesn't have that alcoholic bitew that the cheapies have! Also try Arabic coke. I love coke in glass. And the Arabic makes it nicer. Albaiet (love that mispelled word too) I've only had a Cap'n and Pepsi...tasty...at that bar near Mornington with the goth theme a'ragin I must proc\laim fort the Arabic Coke bottles. Also Apple Hookah (thats for me to remember) and hmmmm... I think Dave's on gotta bounce. Goodness this is an embarrasing message! I'll be home in two weeks. Grandm,a tell Dad that. Only money for 2 weeks. I'll be like mom'e b-day present then home sweet home. Anyone on island I am looking for work so... well Cheers Then!

Caerdydd, Cymru, UK part 1:

We made it to Wales! The whole day was spent on the move. A mislabeled DART bus misadventure which eventually led to Dun Laoghaire (doonleery). I have no idea who's idea that pronunciation was but I hate them. Once at the port the ferry ride was quite excellent. I accidentally booked us the super mega lounge and after a few cups of complementary coffee I was jumping outta my seat watching Argentina-Scotland highlights. I then read a paper, a whole one. We arrived and Erica the Ill tottered uneasily off the boat and I hopped and skipped around till I found the ticket office and we waited for the train. The train was forever in length (four hours) and we got to Cardiff as the light faded and the christmas lights came on. I had read another paper on the train and so I was buzzin with thought as I crossed the busy street. It was like out of a kung fu movie! I am glad to be alive and frankly quite surprised. The walk up to, down and over, around, around again, past, and near the hostel we got a taxi at a pub and arrived to a KFC night. I'm full. The last days in Dublin were full of new people and stuff. I considered erasing here and doing this later cause I just got way sleepy. But consider this part one. to be continued...

Holy Smokes What Day is It?

No it's fine I'm just friggin' starving to death. I'll remedy that problem as soon as I'm done here. Well I once again did not check to see what I wrote last. I know I haven't posted since maybe before Galway...? Well that city was fun again as we expected and I'm going to miss the gang from the Westside (the guys and gals we stayed with). I am going back to get my towel cause my new one is not nearly as cool. So you guys gotta put it somewhere safe for a year. We had the longest bus ride in recorded history back to Dublin and I didnt sleep a wink because Erica kept me up with her persistent snores. It's very nice being back in the big city especially now that we are comfortable with it and savvy of all the best places to go. Big news: We went to the brewery! It was as necessary as everyone said. You walk into the basement and get jacked up watching the best commercials I've honestly ever scene while waiting in line. Then it's upstairs into the bottom of "the world's biggest pint glass" which takes some imagination and an eye for the abstract to appreciate especially the idea that it could hol like 170,000,000 pints or something crazy. But inside you're surrounded by settling Guiness on a massive wall-to-wall and a lovely voice tells you about how Arthur Guiness is a God and the lease is for 9,000 years and how old the factory is, how it's the first steel beamed structure of it's kind in Western Europe and how it was a p.o.s. when God bought it. Very interesting stuff. Then you walk to the gift shop to rule them all and naturally we each bought bottle openers. Then it's up for a 6 or 7? story walk through "brewing for dummies" with artifacts, tools and visual displays the whole way. Near the top is a memorabilia place and at the top is a free bar. You get one pint. Which I found out at the "it's your choice" exhibit is two beers. We were standing in line and this little old lady comes in way hot and cuts me in line. Then a young bride swings in to cut off Erica. We give the bartender a look and he catches it while pooring many a Guiness and does nothing anyway...jackass. So the two cutters reach him and ask for sprites. What-the-heck? Who does that? Honestly? The worst part is the bartender has to dance over to the soda fountain and poor them which takes him way too long. Once served we enjoy the view of the entire city but can't seem to find a seat. This is when "we need a reward" kicks in with our travel instincts. We go downstairs and have a lovely meal. We're now booked through the UK and will only really see London sadly. That does not make me any less pumped to go! I may be over excited about the ferry ride...I just love ferries. Last night(real quick I got 5) was not koo. We did finally grab a pint at the other Temple Bar in Temple Bar and it was great! Sing-alongs, ice cream after and the very entertaining bicycle hustler! But then I got well, this morning has been a little shaky. Hope to eat lots of vedge! Best of luck to all! Cheers!

Corey James out.

The Misinformation Mission

This post begins in Sligo City a largish town in northern Connacht. I had free internet at one of the hostels so I figured I would make reservations for the day after next. The second I began to do just that the hostel manager came in hot and told me my time was up and that checkout was fifteen minutes previous. I tried to point out that being packed and in the common room totally by myself seemed checked out enough and asked for a few minutes to finish the booking. In those few minutes I managed to waste many hours. So after booking a spot at Green Door Hostel in Drogheda (Droe-hey-da), a place I had heard a lot about but was not available through either of the major sites, I skimmed through the directions and hustled out the door with Erica and the grumpy German manager in tow. We stayed that night at a hostel down the street where they had had a bad experience with grease fires???? and therefore had only microwaves. This provided an opportunity for discovering very creative ways to prepare eggs. None of which are worth mentioning. The next morning after exploring Sligo Abbey we hopped on the mother of all bus rides. Ok they got nothin on Jeevon but 4 hours is a while for me. Once in Drogheda it was about 9:30 and we were a bit tired. We got off the bus and looked for the little brown signs that most cities of relatively ok size have pointing to hostels. This had none. We then check a map which didnt have it listed. It was nowhere to be found. So we wandered a bit till we found where the taxi drivers rest. These guys are pros you walk past two times and your shadow will wake them. We ask one of these guys for directions and head off...no hostel. We hale a cab and ask again...same spot but I see a Green Door! Posted in the adacent window is a sign that the building is no longer a hostel. great. We go back to sleepingtaxiland and ask around they all think it must be there. One of them is happy to help us find an alternative in a town with two hotels and two B&Bs. We roll up to the B&B at half ten and fell immediately asleep in our massive super comfy beds and awake to a delicious Irish Breakfast with granola and juice! Now refreshed we leave for Dublin and eventually Cork where I email them about there nonexistence. Turns out they closed that location four years ago and are just up the street. They tell me they have a strict policy (which I did read) on refunds I just don't cut it. They also make it sound as if they have made every citizen in Co. Louth aware of their location change and inform me that the taxi drivers I met must be retarded. "If you knew the lengths we'd gone to to inform of our location change you woould question the IQs of those you asked for directions" really really almost direct quote. We are now in Cashel, home of the rock of Cashel. And I highly recommend it. We did not visit Blarney Castle while in Cork but we will visit Connemara when we reach Galway! I can't decide if I like Munster (SW Ireland) or Connacht (the remainder of Western Ireland) better but Leinster has proven highly irritating (except Dublin of course). Best wishes to all we're off to a Chinese dinner (big treat)...

I Post the Most

It's true after checkin the amigo's blog I realized that. But I'm koo' everyone knows I like to talk anyway nothin new. So I want to speak with y'all about drinks. Firstly I again realized that Guiness on tap (I had one a few hours ago) is truly amazing. Then I realized I would be denied such a realization in my homeland. I couldnt have had this one because American Guiness is brewed in Canada and not the same. But I can't drink at home. This I see now is crap. Let's be honest teens drink. I think that at 16 if I could've drank legally I would be dead by now but as an 18 y.o. "non minor" I must say that if given the choice to have 4 or 14 drinks Id go with 4 eight times outta 10. But in America I cant legally drink. We all know this does not stop American teens. The problem is you gotta get it from a hobo and do it cheap and only on weekends. i.e. you gotta drink a lot. a. cause it's gonna taste like urine b. cause you gotta do it sneaky in the space of 4 hours and c. cause homeless people don't like to buy nice beer. To anyone who has bought me alcohol and is not homeless I should not have generalized you. But thats mostly what Id think. Im not gonna do more cause I have no time. Also though coffee is a drink and I like it a lot. It is my splurge so I have it in every town and must suggest if you go to Galway get a latte at Renzos (ask for directions). The last few days with Johnny, Niall, Shane, and Agnete were awesomo and I was very excited that Obama won. Scratch that SUPER FREKIN DOOPER EXCITED! But in other news Erica Reed is going swiftly poor. She is under budget but even then she has little money. On the continent I think we'll split up heck she might even choose to come back here but donations in any way would be excellent. She has a cold so could not post this herself. (Im in a chinese restaurant a ways from the hostel) ((and its rainnyyy out)) and prolly woulda been more polite but I speak only the truth as you know and that is it. Um well, Sligo is where we're at and sandwiches are what is pricey here. Weird I know but something I noticed. It's a nice town and Id recommend it. Going to Drogheda, then Cork, then Waterford, then Galway, then Dublin, then we're done. Not too spontaneous but you cant be here. Hostels are booked too often and dont exist in small towns. Just on the barren industrial outskirts of cities usually a mile or three from the bus stop. I am enjoying myself though. More pics coming in the next few days (hopefully of monolithic tombs). I will catch you on the flip-flop hope my next post is less dull.

Halloween

It feels like it's been days since the last post. I guess it's not been. I've heard the last one didnt make a lot of sense so I'll try now to better that. Firstly his name is Guillaume not Guillome. Galway remains a beautiful place. We arrived at Johnny and Niall's house yesterday afternoon. The day was a welcome slow down in a comfortable place and I am feeling rather at home here in the suburbs which is something I thought I'd never say. The guys are great. A little background info: Johnny is 22 and studying to major in experimental physics and go from that into vulcanology and Niall is 26 and majoring in astrophysics. The two of them are huge ManU fans and we learned quite quickly that Manchester United's rivals are Liverpool. They are on the clean side of college bachelors, which is not to say their house is emmaculate, but quite livable. Erica and I found out returning from the store yesterday that they don't have a spare key :) which makes getting in when they're out tricky. They drink Foster's. Well Halloween in Galway what can be said? Devoting 8 days is not all they also have rubbish fires in every neighboorhood and the trick-or-treaters are diehard (coming out when the windchill was -3C) and illegal fireworks appear all over the early evening sky making for a wondrous panorama from the hills down to the water. We went out again and spent reasonably less money and I had a way better time. The guys took us to a great pub on the North side of the river (more local) and met up with the usual suspects from the last few days. Drinking was not priority over dancing but the music was not the craic so the dancing was goofier to make up for it. Met some more excellent folks and went for the long walk home to fall asleep in real beds and wake up late the next afternoon. Today has been soccer oriented and I'm writing to you and awaiting a delicious plate of shell macaroni with a mushroom bolognaisse (a traditional Irish meal lol). I'll post in a few days but couldnt resist a back-to-back with the free internet and all. Cheers to all!

Hello Again

Aoife if you decide to give the blog a looksy I just have to ask ce chauigh bhuill tu? I must have mispelled, but maybe when I get back from Donegal we could get to know each other. Cause I'm never like that :)

The Cold Front

Yup it's been a little chilly here. Since the last post we went to Dingle! I was fascinated with the idea because of the name of course but it was a rather sleepy fishing town on a mountainous penninsula absolutely full of sheep. The idyllic valleys we drove through on the way to Anascaul (tiny village just up the road) were no less beautiful because of the gray and the hostel had some stellar views of a weird mountain making the trip worth it. We also had dinner in Dingle at Murphy's my favorited part of which was the "pudding" y'all prolly think you're tricky but no, it was not black or white or blood or even yorkshire it was a m istakenly labeled cake. The thing was freakin delicious! It was a dry chocolateyish cake covered in toffee sauce! It was so good we had to come back the next day to get apple pie next door. Moral of the story is if you like sheep, dessert, and wind then the Dingle penninsula is the hot spot for you my friend. I find I am in no mood to write but have so much to say?!? That could be and probably is for the same reason my knees ache. And that would be because of last night. I was intimidated. That's because on the day before halloween (and apparently the previous 5 days) Galwaians felt bad for giving Christmas 12 days and so they gave Satan 8. They all dressed up ran into the street about 7, got thouroughly intoxicated and did not retire till 3 or 4. Impressed is another word I could use. My night was a little less thrilling. It started as all nights do; during the day of course. We were walking by the Quays (keys), which is the docks and are coincidentally no where near the water, needless to say we were window shopping and in comes Guillome hot as a mofo! Outta nowhere. He may well have been callled Jean in previous posts but he is Gee-ome. So he roles up with a Parisian and a guy from somewhere near Normandy??? and they invite us to dinner at their place so we go out and grab a bottle of the cheap Cab and roll over there bout 7. We have a lovely pesto dinner that Guillome made himself and meet Audrey and Valery (I spelled that sooo wrong) two other badasss Quebecua (also wrrronnng). They tell us to meet them at the Quays (a pub this time, the uses of that word dont cease to amaze me) and we head over to a "couch surfers meetin" with the three aforementioned folks from earlier and maybe someone I dont know oh yeah Nora! from Deutscheland! So we go to Dock Rd and look for the party, that is not, and pass by No 8 (yet another pub I love it) and out rolls the owner (literally I've never seen another man roll more while still standing) and offers us free drinks in exchange for his coming on to us all (yes men too), and some ramblings about Obama. We were down. That's when I started to get to know Guillome lol. (in a heavy accent) "Yes I have done all drugs sadly. Like one time I was smoking crack, you know? (crack smoking gesture, us nodding and givin each other a look) Yeah I was doing it with these kind of gangster guys in Montreal and they hired a prostitute and told me to have sex with her first. So she was on crack, I was on crack (like its no big deal) and I was like sure!...That was my second sexual experience" ......Yeah that's what I said too. So then after being lectured on Canadian prostitutorial conduct we head out with manu kisses on the cheek from the owner who was really excited that so many of our party were French. But we get to the Quays and a few pints later II'm in the smoking room meeting Shawn the Manx (from Isle of Man) who is convinced I'll never visit but thinks I should and we leave for the Kebab Klub at 3 with three new French guys and Audrey and Valery (shut up) and of course Shawn. We wander considerably (mostly because we cant decide between burgers and Kebabs and Shawn keeps yelling "Im following Corey!") and eventually settle for burgers at the kebab place (which is packed) and head home at four after failing to hook up with Hickey at his house party (he was singing Grath Brooks, rather disgracefully, on the side of the road with his friends). The End
p.s. all we did in Anascaul was play cards a lot but it was fun we learned a new game from a Chinese guy named Tim

Corcaigh

So about Waterford for the four whole people that read this blog. It was pootown. Tramore, where the hostel was, that was cool. But both times we tried to go into Waterford the city, the buses pretty much flipped us the bird. It is now bank holiday weekend i.e. only pubs are open. We are in Cork for the Jazz Festival which is not like an American music festival but rather a time when a few pubs play jazz music and Guiness has an excuse to plaster even more of the country with ads. I do reallly like this city though but we are paying through the nose for our hostel. This is why: So we leave Tramore with our friend from Aussie and she gets off in the residentially area where our bus got ran into yesterday by a tuiny green car and we were delayed a good while (have pics later). So she gets off and we head to the main stop and walk a short ways over to the clock tower where the bus to Liam's is said to depart. After the first scheduled departure is a no show I run over to the public toilet. To my great sadness it is apparently permanently occcupied and the door is from Fort Knox unless you have 20 cent of course. But not today. So I run through traffic to a cl othes store. no toilet . So I run to Micky Ds and the door to the toilets is like from star wars and the guy on the other side and i sign language it up till he finds the master switch and we get through. only to find the toliets are closed for a whole day to clean...woah eeeewww. So I look left and theres the handicapped I open the door and blam! A man is trying to show his son how to use the sink which apparently takes a while. I meanwhile am rave stylin' the potty dance. After I return to the Godforesaken clock tower we realize thismust be the sunday that Waterford city buses dont run just like the Friday night we found that had the same dilema. So I ( world's craziest bastard) say heck lets go to Cork. Get to Cork (2 hours for 115km=bout 75 miles) and get off. I misread the map so we walk a block after recieving directions that I barely understood from a very kind Gard and go to the wrong stop wait, turn around go to the right stop. Wait get on and wait...and wait and 45 minutes later we arrive 3 blocks from where we satrted after going on a loop far larger than the map indicated all the way up to the burbs and back. Walk 2 miles, turn around, receive directions from a very smelly man. Wander a bit and then get hopeful. Finally we get to Wellington street. But the hostel is booked so tonight I'm sleeping in the tv room in our third choice which is a hostel/bar. But Cork is wonderful looking just when its so f-in full. Pardon my pidgeon French

The Little Red Man, the Odyssey and the Sea

I just wanted to point out a few things that distinguish the people of this fine island for those who haven't visited. Firstly they have no regard for crossing signs. If the man is standing on the post in his brilliant red (a fair warning not to cross) you'll more'n likely see at least a dozen Dubliners scurrying, or sometimes, even strolling, across as if they are crossing a border illegally or for the more casual as if when they got struck by a vehicle it would simply split for them and go around. Also they litter worse than even the most trash tossing prone people I know you can't go down the street (in the country or city) without seeing a half dozen cigarette packs and a can of Bulmer's (always) and sometimes a Guiness or Budweiser. It's kinda icky. So the Odyssey began when we got into Kilkenny and found a hostel where we left our stuff and went out for coffe. We came back and saw a homelessish man arguing with the receptionist. Naturally we turned heel and walked straight to the offy (liquour store, off-license, I don't get it either)and picked up some of the magic apple juice inspired by the ancient craft of the magic men who once lived here (it says that on every can) Druid's cider adn a pack of Milky Ways. These two things we used to stay up extra late with knives in hand waiting for the bum to fall asleep next door while we played cards. The next morning we woke up and made porridge (far too much of it) and I ate more oats than I ever wish to see again. Now over full and grouchy we head over to the cafe that ripped us off the other day to wait for the bus. After forty-five minutes (the bus due for 20 of them) my grumpy partner exclaims in near panic that we must have gone to the wrong stop. So we step outside. Outside it is beginning to storm and there is a funeral procession. I was gleeful to say the least. Apparently everyone on the opposite side will wait for the wake-goers to file past before contuining (wait for 20 minutes even). So walking through the rain towards the bus stop proper we see our bus and hop on just as he starts up and the Herse carrying Grandad (written in flowers on the side) rolls by. We ride back to the cafe feeling rather sily and then on to Waterford. As you cross the river Suir Waterford looms up on the other side of the river with a wall of buildings. It is quite intimidating in a storm. We got off and then on the bus to Tramore a lovely Vashon like town on the seashore and met the loveliest church group in our room and stayed in the loveliest hostel and I walked down to the pier and watched the storm, as is my favorite pasttime, before we went out for a pint with a nice Irish fellow. And now it is sunny out and the Sterling is $1.56/£1. Needless to say it has been a lovely rollercoaster of a week.

Cill Chainnigh

That is how you actually spell the name of the lovely town we decided we'd actually rather stay in. Kilkenny in English. I thought the castle we were going to would be right in the town but it's actually freakin' 17km out and so the last tow days were very silly. Yesterday we woke up at 1 and 1:30 and realized that we had missed the bus (which we later realized was a blessing because you got pay through the nose) and so we set out for Ballyragget which was closer but still a 4 k walk. People looked at us like we had absolutely lost our mind walking down a motorway (speed limit 100km/hr)=62mph with no shoulder. So it went rather slow as we dodged into the hedge over and over while giant semis cruised down the tiny country road (thinner by a foot or so than most of Vashon Hwy). Wow that was fun. But the meal and ten pound grocery bag (two of which due to the kilo of meat we bought not realizing how flamin huge that was but now warned) awaiting us made it well worth it. The waitress was super nice but they don't believe in menus at the Cafe. That meant she gave us choices while Erica nodded and I decided between the ever so descriptive Lamb dinner or Beef dinner. The lamb dinner was fantastic and the coffee and cheesecake too best of all they were cheap! We got back just as the day's second thunderstorm rolled over the castle and went in to find the youngest looking 30 y.o. Kiwi alive. Turns out he was quite a nice conversation but i's hard to make lasting friends with someone almost twice your age. Our other friend Jean from Montreal was 22 and we are due to meet him in Galway. I am realizing though that coming in Fall avoids not just annoying middle-aged touristy Americans but everyone else as well...especially women. The city is very nice but I think we will really leave tomorrow. For where I don't know...

Cil Cineagh

Hmmm...If you're ever in Co. Kilkenny never ride the Buggy Coach. It's €4 for a scary bus ride playing terrible music. The Castle was nice though just out in the boons. Our cameras are dead so no pics until we find an adapter. Runnin out of time. I'll post furreal at the end of the bus ride

The First Couple of Days

Well, where to begin? Prolly the beginning. The flight was fine. Erica revealed on the plane ride that hunger is not her best friend and I was very worried the whole thing would be turrrible when they brought out meals and saved the day! Dublin is a prety awesome place and except for the crazy pub crawl last night everything has been affordable. Although all the people we talk to are pretty sure that if Dublin got any more expensive we'd all starve. So that makes me hopeful for everywhere else. We got here and met a Mexican named David who followed us around for a bit but he couldn't get into the second hostel so I had to help him. The people we meet are pretty friendly, not as much people who dont speak English. One of the hostl guys sings a lot and the graveyard one is an Indian who is not a fan of amorous conduct in the lobby after hours. My favorite people so far are Adam and Clare from California. We're going back out with them tonight and I will this time refuse to drink because it's already cost me an arm, leg and a stomach. Erica and I are getting on quite well and walking through the city for free is tour enough for us both. I think I can speak for her when I say we are super excited to go to the country and have everything slow down a bit.

p.s. never pay more than €10 to get into a club you will only be sad the next day.

It is Time

Holy smoky Moses! For so many years I have wanted to board this flight and have calculated the costs over and over and counted down the days and yet now that I'm here I want to go hide in the bathroom and wait it out as if it was school and I could just sleep in past second period and make the rest of the day dissapear. Well, only sort of. The rest of me is about as excited as a guy could be! Well, I'm off to make my final preparations :)

A Month Counting Down

Yes I did decide to copy the Three Amigos. I did this not just because I like to think I'm at least the fourth amigo :( but also because Jeevon told me to. You, the reader, may notice that my punctuation is poor at best. That's just how it's gotta be but Erica will assuredly throw in a comma here and a period there. The two of us are leaving for Atha Cliath (Dublin) in 30 days. Posts will be irregular but a thrill is guaranteed!

p.s. the title means insane mania in Gaelic...I think.