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 :)