A Wonderfully Uneventful Day at Old Head Beach

A while back now a small group of us wandered away from the cottages a hop, skip, and a jump to a nearby beach, named Old Head. For the last month or so I’ve been concentrating on trying to have these wild adventures with spectacular stories, and to only post here what I thought was “worth posting”. The consequence of this effort is that I almost missed the everyday charm of this beautiful place, and that’s really what I want all you fine people to get a sense of: the rustic character of rural Ireland. We, the small band of wanders, moseyed along the narrow road past the petrol station with backpacks full of supplies to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and various other snacks material in search of some quality time outside. 

When we arrived at Old Head we stopped and sat on the edge of the pier for lunch. A slightly squished loaf of bread and broken plastic spoons did nothing to damper our spirits as the group of us offered the leftovers of our meal to the God of the Sea Poseidon hoping that he would be appeased and spare us the crashing waves of high tide. Climbing over rocks, investigating or “s’plunkin” the crevices in the hill we eventually made our way up to a grassy field overlooking the beach. Playing with a very kind sheep herding dog named Brandi Girl according to her tags, we laughed, shared stories, and just relaxed for awhile. The sound of the waves upon the beach, the sun in our faces, a gentle breeze tickling our faces, it was wonderful to be outside for the afternoon. We decided to explore a bit in the wooded area directly behind us, and we were lead, quite expertly I might add, by Brandi Girl. Patiently checking on us to see that we were all in line and following diligently she took us along a winding path, through gates, and eventually down to the beach again. Our spirits lifted, we made the trek back home with a new spring in our step to return to our normal routine of class and life at the cottage.    

Rumspringa part 3! Luke goes to London

After another long day of standing in line, going through security lines, filling out boarding cards, and listening to safety demonstrations we landed at Stansted airport, boarded a train and we were off to the center of London. First things first, we bought an Underground tube card that would allow us to get around for the weekend and then off to the apartment we were staying in. We stepped off the train from Stansted at Liverpool Station and wow was it incredible. It looked almost exactly like the set from Harry Potter, with a high ceiling that had bronze supports twisting together to hold up the structure. I felt as though I had stepped off the train directly into the past, it looked precisely how I had hoped all train stations looked. However there was no time to waste so we walked down the stairs to catch the Piccadilly line towards South Ealing station, on the edge of London. After a subway trip that was much longer than I was comfortable with we set off on our half-hour walk down Pope’s Lane towards the apartment, the phrase “Mind the Gap” ringing in my ears. We stopped at a nearby Fish & Chips place and I devoured a pile of doner meat resting on salt and vinegar “chips” (fries). While I was exhausted from the day, myself and one other member of the group decided that we’d quite like to see London at night, so the two of us walked back to the underground station, and made the long trip back in to the city center to explore the great metropolis all lit up. 

Walking up the stairs outside Westminster station the first thing we saw was the base of Big Ben, London’s famous clock tower. Attached to the British Parliament building it rose like the beacon of Amon Din against the cold of night. Burning brightly for all to see, it was outshone only by the London Eye, the gigantic ferris wheel, from which you could probably see most of the city. I have been to London twice now and still not been on the Eye, but someday I’ll taste the thin air that only the Eye can reach. It was getting late so at this point so the two of us slogged our way back to the underground, and nodding off a little more stop after stop, until finally, mercifully we only had a half hour trek to the apartment, and I collapsed on the couch to sleep. 

Day two the team headed to the Tate Modern Art Museum, which was very interesting. Monet, Picasso, even a Van Gogh or two were all at the Tate Modern, and I was really happy for the other guy on the trip because he’s heavily involved with art, both as a student and as an artist himself. He got to stand next to Monet’s Lilies painting, which is a favorite of his. A lot of the art there was a little....well modern for my taste that’s a good way to put it I think! I was able to appreciate a good amount of what I saw there, but with each floor I ascended the art became hard for me not to ask myself “really? this is art?” which may sound ignorant of me which is why I would like to stress the fact that floors one and two I enjoyed very much. It was just difficult for me to see why a neon light, bent into the word America and spray-painted black is a statement on the “capitalist nature and society of neglect of the so-called world power”. After a few hours here we sat in the lobby as a “living art exhibit” making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and eating them right then and there. 

The group stayed fairly busy in London, and we really got to see a lot. We took pictures and ate lunch in the sprawling Hyde Park, visited Buckingham Palace (from a distance, and unfortunately we missed the changing of the guard) rode on a double decker bus (I definitely pretended it was the Knight Bus from Harry Potter) looked around Park Lane, and even took a quick tour of the Hard Rock Cafe where I got to see John Lennon’s army jacket up close and personal. The best part of my London experience came in the next three stops. After a full day of walking around, I noticed that I was quite hungry, and I hadn’t exactly had any real London style food, electing instead to eat doner meat and chips from the place near our apartment, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. From what I noticed around the city, a 10 pound (about $20) burger was quite a reasonable price for a Londoner. So I just had to grit my teeth, and pretend like the exchange rate wasn’t almost $2 for each pound and get the burger because otherwise I wouldn’t have eaten that day. We slipped into a bar called The Barley Mow which is apparently famous for its appearance on the tv sitcom Friends and I ordered the Big Ben burger, and a pint of ale called London Pride. I was pretty satisfied that those were London-y enough for me. I guess. A towering stack of meat and cheese, topped with a fried egg and a perfectly blended amber beer washed it down with style. 

We also visited 221B Baker Street, or the residence of Sherlock Holmes! I was really excited about this I got to see the famous door, and step into the official museum shop of Sherlock (the museum itself was closed when we got there) where I escaped with a few treasures that I intend to give to my family as gifts (but they’re really...really cool so I may just keep them for myself) and for those of you who watch the Benedict Cumberbatch series on BBC I saw a small restaurant they used for filming the show right on Baker Street. 

Perhaps the best moment on the trip though was when the group visited Kings Cross Station and Platform 9 and 3/4! There was a trolley that was halfway between the muggle and wizarding worlds that we got to take pictures with while wearing whichever scarf from Harry Potter you wanted. As there were four of us, we each decided that it was only proper for us each to have a different one, and I immediately claimed Hufflepuff. And no I’m not kidding quit laughing! Hufflepuff is awesome. The lady in control of the line laughed as well, saying “you just keep that on for awhile no one ever picks that one” as her colleague with the camera called me a “Harry Potter Hipster”. I liked Hufflepuff before it was cool I guess. Wayyyy before. For the picture we were asked to jump, and most people did a quick hop and that was that. Not me though. I bent my knees and rocketed up past the trolley, and my skull connected with the brick wall, garnering praise from both employee and customer alike. In other news, brick walls? Just as hard as they look. Totally worth it though. We also were allowed to take a group photo of the four of us which turned out great. The Hufflepuff (myself) basically went splat on the wall at the direction of the photographer, the Gryffindor at the front with the Slytherin pulling on her scarf holding her back, and the haughty Ravenclaw who “just couldn’t be bothered with all this nonsense”. The staff had a lot of fun with the four of us and helped make my London experience one I’ll never forget.        

Rumspringa part 2! Vandering in Vienna

After a small amount of tension navigating the subway system in Vienna, we were able to reach our stop that was right outside our hostel, a place called Wombats. On the short walk there I was able to catch a glimpse of what Vienna looked like, and it was spectacular. Very bright and clean, with towering buildings rising above us, the place looked like New York’s much more hygienic older sibling. Before I could get a better look we had reached the door and started to check in. The sample card we had to fill out for the deposit and whatnot had been filled out by Elliot Reid from Scrubs and I spent a little too long laughing about that. The four of us had our own room which was extremely convenient as we never had to be too careful with what we left in the room and we took with us at all times. After claiming the top bunk for myself (oh yeah, we had bunk beds! exciting right?!) it was time to grab some dinner and call it a night (most of the day had been spent in Bratislava). 

At the recommendation of the man at the front desk we stopped by a place down the block for some traditional Austrian cuisine. Our waitress was wearing one of those stereotypical german style dresses with the ruffles on the sleeves and the multi-colored layers and gave us a cheesy tagline welcome as she placed us at the community table. After struggling to read the menu, I settled on something with the words “schnitzel and sauerkraut” in it figuring hey that sounds German! Lets get that! The waitress gave me an encouraging smile and said “very good!” as I attempted to read it off the menu, I at least did well enough to where she knew what I meant. Disregarding the fact that I had never tried sauerkraut before, I had convinced myself I already liked it because I wasn’t going to be the American who turned his nose up at a staple of the culture’s diet. Good news, it was actually pretty decent! Not my favorite thing but it went down smooth enough. The only other people to join us at the table was an older couple that didn’t seem to speak english at all, but they were lighthearted and very funny. They were eating off of each other’s plates, and at one moment the man tried his wife’s wine, shook his head in despair and went back to his tall glass of beer. Teasing each other as much as they were teasing us, having that much fun with people who didn’t understand me just as I didn’t understand them was enlightening. 

The next day was without a doubt my favorite day of spring break, or Rumspringa! We travelled to the town square and wandered around a few parks, marveling at the massive statues that were all around us. While I enjoyed the parks in the morning, the art museum we visited that afternoon was just incredible. I’m ashamed to admit I have absolutely no idea what it was called, but I do know it has been ranked as one of the most impressive museums in the world, and it wasn’t difficult to see why. This place was GIGANTIC. I got lost inside, only to find myself in a completely different wing and floor than where I had started. There were tapestries, murals, paintings not much larger than the standard canvas, and paintings that seemed to be 100 feet high, with the characters depicted within much larger than life sized. Sculptures, statues, ancient artifacts such as jewelry, weapons, and decorative pieces there was truly something there for everyone. One observation I made was that they didn’t like centaurs very much. Seemingly in every room there was a statue of Hercules trampling a centaur, or Hercules clubbing a centaur over the head, or Hercules..you get the idea. There was also quite a gruesome piece depicting the story of Prometheus‘ punishment. For the crime of bringing fire to the mortal world, Zeus chained Prometheus to a mountain, where an eagle would come once a day and tear out his ever regenerating liver. The detail of the eagle, its talons sinking into Prometheus‘ thighs while its beak was buried in his abdomen, the anguish on his face it was incredible to think that someone carved this out of stone with nothing more than a crude chisel. Not all the art was so dark however. What is believed to be one of the first pieces of its kind, a father of four had carved a likeness of his son into marble and captured his youthful glee, the laugh of a child forever etched into history, or the practical joke of a huge crystal dragon table centerpiece that was filled with water and would periodically spray it in the face of a guest curious enough to touch its protruding tongue. It was delightfully shocking to learn that people hundreds and hundreds of years ago had a sense of humor as well. My favorite piece however was entitled “4 Rivers of Paradise”. Quite a large frame showed a utopian background, 4 impressive men gazed up adoringly at 4 lavishly dressed women, all a different skin tone. Children played with crocodiles in the foreground as a mother tiger nursed her young, watched warily. I didn’t know why but I was entranced by the work, observing it for close to 20 minutes before reading the description. I learned that the women in the paintings were four continents-Africa, America, Asia, and Europe and they had their “River Gods” wrapped around them, catering to their every need. 

By the end of the second day I was able to order gelato in fluent German (although I did have to point at which cone I wanted) and while it wasn’t a big victory being able to say “Drei kugel-zitrone, erdbeere, and waldbeere” was something I enjoyed being able to do. The 3 scoop lemon, strawberry, and forest berry flavors were some of the best gelato I’ve ever had, and I’ve had gelato in 5 different countries now. While wandering around that afternoon I saw a shop that handmade traditional Austrian dresses on site, and it was run by a sweet old lady and her husband. I knew I wanted to buy a dress for Bella at some point on my travels but I thought that they would be way outside my price range, but I stopped in anyways. The lady asked me who I was looking for, I said my 4 year old little sister, and she said “You’re probably a student yes? Meaning you’re on a budget so this row is out-the only difference is its double layered and that’s not important”. Before I knew it she was asking me about Bella’s skin tone and hair color and laying out options for me that would work, and I found one that would be perfect if I could afford it. The top layer was white, ruffles on the sleeves, with a blue stripe in the middle, and a red bottom layer. To my shock it was well within my price range so I bought it, I hope she likes it because the thing is adorable.  

That night we were taken out to eat by a friend of the other guy on the trip, and she took us to a place called the Centimeter. The waiter didn’t speak a word of english, and they no longer carried menus in english so it was a good thing that we had her with us to translate. The word Holzfaller caught my eye for some reason, so I asked what it meant, and I was told that it means Lumberjack. YUP. Ordering that. No idea what’s in it but it sounds awesome. Each of the five of us ordered an Austrian beer as well, as the culture is famed for its beer, and there were two sizes, a half glass or a full glass. The four others all ordered the full glass, and I intended to as well, the waiter joked with me and said “mas? mas?” I replied yes! mas! thinking that I ordered the same as everyone else. However, our local friend informed me that mas was a completely different size, a much bigger size. Uh oh. When he returned with our food he was carrying an almost comically large mug full of dark beer, that I found out was more than a liter and a half. It was basically a 2 liter soda bottle, but of dark beer. Whoops! I felt very ‘MURICA eating something called the lumberjack and battling through a mug I could scarcely lift when it was empty, but I finished everything I ordered and didn’t even fall down walking back to the subway. The next morning it was time to take the train to the airport to get to London, and after bidding the city a very fond farewell, I fell asleep on the train with the help of my Ipod playing Iron and Wine.      

Rumspringa part 1!

Our last day in Dublin was a long one, because a group of four of us flew to Bratislava from the Dublin airport at 6 a.m. Monday morning. Problem was it was 10 a.m. on Sunday and we had no money for extravagances such as a hostel or a bed and breakfast for the night. So we roughed it in true American style, and spent the night near the McDonalds in the airport, partly because, come on...its McDonalds, where else would we be? And partly because we were flying Ryan Air, and their desk didn’t open until 3 a.m. so we couldn’t go through security or anything and we were basically waiting in the lobby all night. Somewhere around hour 3 of the next 11 hours my compatriots and I became very very bored, and again, having no money for overpriced airport cards, we spent 1 euro on a notebook and made our own playing cards. The suits were Christmas trees, stars, the Red Hot Chili Peppers logo, and Pokeballs (that one was mine). We played cards for awhile, but eventually my team members fell asleep to the soothing sounds of a man who had clearly pounded an industrial sized bottle of NyQuill and the Lonely Island serenading them about some inappropriate things in boxes as I stay wide awake, cursing my nature as a night owl for the first time in my life. So instead of sleeping I wrote in the journal my brother Mark bought me for Christmas because I was very much behind. Before I knew it the glow of my Ipod had struck 3 a.m. so I rallied the troops and it was off to the security gate! The metal in my shoulder set off the security scanner and after a quick invasion of privacy it was time to sit and wait for our gate to be announced. I was able to grab an hour of uneasy sleep on a chair, and suffer through the longest two hours of my trip so far, I swear those two hours took longer than the previous ten. 

Waiting in line to board the plane to Bratislava I was a little nervous, but very excited. I knew almost NOTHING about the place. I didn’t even know what country it was in until I googled it the week before (turns out its in Slovakia) but Mark’s coworkers had recommended the place most highly, and it was only a two hour bus ride from our hostel in Vienna so we figured why not? My fear quickly disappeared however, all thanks to a little blonde toddler and her father. I was behind them in line and the little girl waved to me, so I waved back, and she waved back more enthusiastically, as her father laughed and encouraged her. I took the game a step further and started to hide behind people, and pop up excitedly in her line of sight, and she just loved it. She caught on and buried her face in her father’s shoulder, waited for a second, and then shot up with surprising speed for a such a tiny little person, smile a mile wide just roaring with laughter. I mean how can you be nervous after an interaction like that?! I slept almost the entire plane ride, being roused by one of my favorite things on this earth- the Ryan Air “on-time flight” victory song. 

We found ourselves with an afternoon to waste wandering around Bratislava before catching a bus to Austria, so we squared away our transportation to the city center and to Vienna and the rest of the time was ours! As we arrived during business hours, it makes sense that they city would be quiet, but man. It was really quiet. It really did make it feel like the city was just for us. I wish we had a little more time there because we didn’t get to see much of it, but the parts we did see were really cool. A nice square, some very interesting sculptures, and a row of pubs. We stopped in for some real local Slovakian food, and it was just incredible. I split a meal for 2 with one of my friends that was a literal platter of meat. Turkey. Ham. Bacon. Roast Beef. Chicken. MORE BACON. It was incredible. The two of us decided that our shared Viking heritage had blessed us with a gift from Valhalla, because all that meat, bread, biscuits soaked in pig fat, and a mug of locally brewed beer was only 10 Euro each, which is a darn good price for the sheer mountain of meat we faced. Sadly, after that it was time to leave, and we boarded a bus. There was no one sitting behind me, so I could recline my seat to its full extent without guilt, threw in my headphones, and Ingrid Michaelson sang me to sleep, and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the word Vienna. No really we had reached the airport and it was a gigantic sign outside the bus stop.    

The Rocky Road To Dublin

A new trip, a new motto! Rumspringa! Kilkenny, Wexford, and Dublin all in a few days. This trip also came with a theme song- The Rocky Road To Dublin by the Dubliners. Obvious? Yes. Do I apologize for that? No. I listened to it a few too many times in a row by the time we had reached our first destination, Dunmore Caves. I love caves so I was pretty excited about this stop and it was very interesting, but with one disappointing fact. While the cave was massive, much of it was blocked off and we were unable to access many of the “rooms” connected within the system and I really would’ve liked the chance to explore further. Dunmore Caves was the site of a Viking raid against a Celtic tribe that was using the caves as shelter against the pillaging. Not much is known about what actually happened, but there are of course theories. Evidence of a large number of burnt human remains were found in the caves, suggesting that the Vikings attempted to smoke the tribe out of the cave, but the fire burned too quickly and got out of hand. Along with the carbon dating of the charred rock inside, many coins and other metals were found, buried inside in accordance with the Viking belief that what they buried in this life they would have returned to them in the next. Coming from a long line of Vikings myself its totally worth a shot to bury all the spare change I have right? I never liked pennies anyways. As with all caves there were some incredible formations of stalagmites and stalactites inside, growing at about 1 cm per 100 years. Which is why its such a tragedy that before the cave was protected, a rich man decided that one of the stalactites would look just wonderful in his garden, so he blew it up with dynamite and took it home. There were some remaining ones however, one called the buffalo (any guesses on what it looked like?), one that looked like the Rancor from Star Wars in my opinion, and one that looked like two angels hugging, their wings facing us. At first I thought that was a very positive and comforting thought, until my classmate pointed at it and whispered, “don’t blink” right as the tour guide shut off all the power, leaving us in complete and crushing darkness. For those of you who don’t understand that Dr. Who reference, I envy you. The Weeping Angels are terrifying. 

I am ashamed to admit that I was dreading the next stop, the Waterford Crystal Factory. I thought to myself “cool, a bunch of stuffy old rich people pretty bowls, that’ll be super fun...” but I tried to keep my mind open a little, and I’m so glad that I did because it turned out to be a highlight. The things that they made there were incredible, and the talent and precision that goes into making even a small piece is astounding. People train for 8 years, just to be qualified to the job alone instead of provisionally. These people basically go to undergrad and graduate school to learn their trade just well enough so someone doesn’t have to hold their hand. With the incredible amount of detail that went into each piece I was expecting highly specialized and sensitive tools, but the men and women I saw were basically just holding up these bowls worth thousands of dollars up to a bulky grinding wheel, simply “feeling how to make the cuts” following a crude sharpie line. A little further down the way I saw this incredibly impressive trophy thing coming into its own and I was able to speak to the craftsman behind the grinder who told me that he was making the Pebble Beach Trophy. Just matter-of-fact. No big deal. There was also a moment that I became star-struck. I was speaking to another craftsman who was working on a fireman’s helmet trophy, which he told me was worth something around $10,000 and asked if I wanted to hold it. Naturally I accepted and while feeling the incredible weight of it I asked him what it was for, and he answered me “oh its a retirement present for Mariano Rivera”. As in the Mariano Rivera the greatest closer of all time who recently retired from the New York Yankees? Yup. That one. The award for the best relief pitcher of the year is called the Fireman’s award, and the plans for that helmet looked spectacular. Easily one of the coolest things I’ve ever held. 

In Dublin we went to another play, this one was called Sive and true to Irish form it was, once again, sad. Because of course. The basics of the play are a young girl, Sive, a bastard child in the care of her dead mother’s brother, is arranged to be married to a decrepit old man so that her step-aunt will be paid handsomely and can escape the responsibility of taking care of Sive, and Sive’s grandmother. Things are complicated even further when it is revealed that Sive loves another man, a man her own age, but her uncle disapproves. While the ending was quite powerful, the part of the play that had the greatest impact on me was a scene between the uncle and the grandmother. I don’t remember what the exact line was but she asked him if she had any love for his mother, his sister, or his niece. If he remembered what family meant and what you do for family. I lost the rest of the scene because my mind had turned to my own family, and it was the first moment since I had left the states that I was truly homesick. I thought of how much I missed my parents, and how hard they work at home. I thought of how much I was missing of my brothers lives, one now living in Minneapolis, and the other preparing to graduate college. I also thought about how much I was missing of Bella’s life, and although I heard her putting together stronger sentences over FaceTime, I was missing her grow. I know how fortunate I am to be granted an opportunity to study in another part of the world for the semester, but at that moment all I wanted was to have dinner with my parents, play Settlers of Catan with my brothers, and watch a Disney movie with my sister.

I was also lucky enough to visit Kilmainham Gaol (Irish for jail) during my time in Dublin. Kilmainham may be most famous for its involvement following the Easter Rising of 1916. Eight men led a military rebellion against the British in 1916, and were subsequently crushed due to the overpowering force of the British military. These eight men were then held at Kilmainham and sentenced to death by firing squad. One of the leaders was so badly injured that he had to be carried to his execution on a stretcher, and tied to a chair when he arrived in the yard. These executions sparked a stronger Irish rebellion but that’s a story for another time. The eventual president of the Irish republic, Eamon de Valera was held at Kilmainham as well, although he escaped the firing squad. Kilmainham has a dark history, as records of children prisoners, as young as 5 years old being held there. One of the more interesting developments about the jail is that is was very nearly overrun and lost forever, and it would have been if not for a group of volunteers in the late 1950’s. Many of the volunteers were prisoners at Kilmainham themselves at one point, and refused the offer of help from contractors in the restoration process believing that this is something they wanted to do on their own. Trees had grown tall and strong in the middle of the main wing, reaching all the way through the grass ceiling, and the stone floor was completely covered by grass. Old men were replacing the roof, rebuilding walls, and reclaiming the building from years of neglect and it is now a place of great importance to the country.   

      

Long Trip part 3-Mind the Mead!

At this point I was starting to realize why it was called the “Long Trip” as we were only halfway through by the time we left for Blarney Castle on Thursday morning. But no time to be tired now, it was time to push on! Blarney Castle is the home of the famous Blarney Stone, which legend has it will grant you the Gift of the Gab if kissed. The power of persuasion was waiting just a short, uncomfortable walk up a flight of castle stairs for all those brave enough to lean, upside-down, at the top of the tower to kiss a rock. While that is undoubtedly the reason to visit the castle and something that I definitely partook in (I am a business major after all, its worth a shot) my favorite part of the Blarney visit was the Poison Garden. Tucked into the back corner of the grounds, the Poison Garden came with a warning label of “Do not touch, eat, or smell anything in the Poison Garden. Thank You.” What an encouraging thought, don’t smell anything in the Poison Garden. Reading descriptions of the mandragora, wolfsbane, yew, cannabis, and various other plants to understand their modern and historical uses really interested me, particularly as during medieval times several of these poisonous plants were used for wild reasons. Mistakenly used as medicine so the sick would not transform into werewolves, wolfsbane only made the sick worse off, and legend held that an uprooted mandragora plant would emit a scream powerful enough to kill, a la Harry Potter. 

The days and events started to run together at this point, but I think the order is generally accurate. We were able to do a lot of sightseeing around picturesque Dingle Peninsula which was incredible. Gently sloping hills, dotted with brightly colored houses, connected the powerful mountains to the raging ocean. It was at this place that I realized those places they use in movies are real. A fiercely calming place, it was interesting to see the balance of serenity and power of the area, and I am unlikely to ever see two such opposing forces coexist in that way again.  

Late that afternoon we were also able to wander around a national park in Killarney and it wasn’t hard to see why this place is so special to the country. A heavily wooded area, it reminded me so strongly of Minnesota. Shaded rocky paths twisted and turned up a steep hill, wrapping around a waterfall and accompanying river, the sound of birds all around us. On our walk up to the mouth of the river there was a break in the trees and several of my friends and I were ripped away from our quest to reach the top, simply to stare at the lake across the way. Floating towards the ledge off the path as moths to a flame, we were rendered speechless at the pure natural beauty. Towering Irish Pines framed the scene more perfectly than any photograph could, the sinking sun danced upon the shimmering face of the lake as a family of duck travelled from one side of the lake to the other. Looking down on this area with a gentle breeze tickling my face it was almost as if the countryside was reassuring me and reminding me that despite being halfway around the world from where I live, I’ll never be too far away from home. After shaking ourselves out of our stupor, we continued to the top of the falls and it was the...high point of the day without a doubt. A stone bridge overlooked the mouth of the river, as well as the funneling point into the falls on the other side, and with a quick slide down a hill it was possible to stand in the river itself, which shouldn’t surprise anyone that I was the first, and on second thought only person to stand in the water. There was something about the rolling up my jeans and standing barefoot in the mouth of a water fall that made me feel like nature is supposed to be interacted with, not merely observed. Rinsing my face and hair off in a river that had just started to pick up speed as it traveled down the sharp rock face, feeling the cool water soothe my aching feet, listening to the river itself, and smelling the freshness of the place put me so at ease, and I’ll never forget how I felt so at peace with the earth at that moment. 

To end the Long Trip, the class did something really touristy. Typically I HATE doing tourist things, I much prefer to live like the locals do, and really experience the country, as opposed to traveling according to a checklist of “things to do and see”, but I have to admit, Bunratty Castle was a lot of fun. Traditional style feasts are held inside the castle, with performers dressed up according to medieval times and speak middle english, we ate with our hands because no one used forks then, listened to ancient Irish songs from long dead poets (The Star of County Down was my favorite-The High Kings have a nice version of it) and we were served honey mead. Honey mead is an ancient recipe that was served to all the high-born people of the castle during that time period and the drink is very sweet, incredibly tasty, and deceptively strong. We were warned to “mind the mead!” because many a student has become quite inebriated not realizing that just because you can’t taste the strength of the drink, doesn’t mean its not going to town on your judgment capabilities. There is also a cool story behind the name honeymoon for newly married couples. Tradition holds that the freshly committed pair would spend the first month, or moon, drinking honey mead all day and all night together alone, hence the term honeymoon. This is a tradition that should have never died out and I move to reinstate it immediately! With a belly full of mead, spare ribs that literally melted off the bone, chicken, and an incredible vegetable soup spirits were high in the castle that night. The desert for the night, a small cheesecake, was called “lovers kiss” due to the practice of two people feeding it to each other, and no one would eat a bite from their own spoon and I was feeling quite friendly that night, and one exchange of the lovers kiss cheesecake turned into two, and three, and four, until finally the last bite was all that remained, and there were no lovers left at the table.  Unbeknownst to me, my professor noticed this, and to great applause I was able to finish my desert in the spirit of its name with him. 

Some quick highlights of the trip! 

Three other male students and I thought it would be great fun to go swimming in the ocean while visiting Inch Beach, and we were mostly right. We spent the next few hours on the bus wet and cold but it was a bonding moment for the men of the trip and made a good memory. 

At a pub in Killarney there was a live band who played covers of Mumford and Sons, Old Crow Medicine Show, MGMT, The Lumineers, The Killers, ACDC, and countless others, and not only were they surprisingly good, but invited several of the Americans on stage to dance which I have to say was quite a lot of fun. 

We stopped for lunch after a long day of travel, and too many hours after breakfast, and a few friends and I saw a burger place and became irrationally excited. I hadn’t had a cheeseburger since January. The size of a double whopper and covered in grease this gorgeous creation tasted like George Washington fighting off the Redcoats. 

Long Trip Part 2-AN ACTUAL MONKEY ON MY LITERAL BACK

The next day of the trip was one of my favorites of the week, as we visited Cahir Castle and Fota Wildlife Park, and drove to stay in Blarney for the night. Located on a small island, surrounded by a strong and deep running river, Cahir was the epitome of defense. The upper battlements had arrow and musket slots to return fire, multiple cannons, and the more Murder Holes than really seemed necessary. The staircase inside the castle itself, like many others was built with careful strategy in mind. Each step was a different height, width, and length and twisted extremely tightly up in a clockwise fashion. From this clockwise position knights would be forced to carry their swords in their left hands giving the defending army coming down the stairs the advantage as it was believed that being left-handed was against nature and religion. From the battlements you could see a thick forest and the river to one side, with a bustling Irish town on the other. Cahir castle has been the sight for the taping of several different movies and television shows as well, including Braveheart, Excalibur, and the Tudors. As much as I enjoyed the castle, it would have been much more fun if they had kept all the doors unlocked and let you really get to all the nooks and crannies of the place. Everywhere I turned there was a chain across the stairwell, or a locked door. What’s the point of finding a secret trapdoor if you can’t go through it?! Even at the top of the chained off stairs there was a locked door (not that I’d know that for sure...) and the dungeons were locked, it was quite disappointing indeed. 

The Wildlife Park is definitely one of the highlights of my trip so far. The park was designed as not to have any “obvious barriers” between the visitors and the animals so they would be more easily visible and to allow us to get closer to many of the animals. I was completely unprepared for the animals that I’d be seeing while there, because I didn’t think that the Irish cold would allow for so many exotic animals to live outside in one area. Zebras, Bison, Kangaroos, an incredible variety of species of monkey, giraffes, ducks, cheetahs, you name it they had it! I had never seen most of these animals before and hadn’t ever dreamed that I’d see them in Ireland. I’m still vexed by how they survive in this climate, terribly vexed. One of the first animals we saw were emus, and they are uniquely unsettling birds. Towering above us stepping right up to the electric wire separating us from them, the emus followed us as we walked along the path. Being terrified of birds, I was very nervous to have this large, fast, aggressive one following us. After awhile though it got bored and we continued down the path to the cheetah exhibit, where it was feeding time. 

Watching a cheetah eat was equal parts terrifying, marvelous, and disgusting. There was a motorized yellow wire suspended across the length of the pen, from which they hung dead birds and rabbits from and zip them from one end to the other so the cheetahs would run for their dinner. After a short chase, the leader of the pack jumped high into the air and ripped a small bird off the line and trundled off to sit and eat in peace. The second feeding pitted the beta male against the baby of the family, and it was the single largest dead bird I’ve ever seen dangling from that wire. It looked like the turkey the pilgrims ate on the first Thanksgiving. The little guy had a chance to eat a rabbit, but it got stuck on the wire, and the leader stole it from him. But it ended okay, mostly. He got to eat but never got the thing off the wire, but it sounded like the bird was satisfyingly crunchy so there’s that.

After that awful and amazing experience we continued down the path to the other exhibits. While most of the class had quite a pleasant walk mine was horrifying. Birds. Everywhere. I hate birds. Particularly the ravens that covered the path in black and purple feathers, the a literal murder of them. The fact that they’re called a murder definitely plays into my being scared of them as well. It wasn’t just ravens either. Ducks, pigeons, peacocks, pelicans, just walking around the path! It was madness! Pure lunacy! The worst part was that they weren’t scared of us. They ignored us even. It was awful. I had to put my head down and aggressively charged through the path saying to myself “I’m a big strong man and I’m not afraid of birds! I’m a big strong man and I’m not afraid of birds!!” 

That walk was more than worth it though, because the monkeys were on the other side of....murderers row! A classmate and I saw a group of small black-furred monkeys in a little tree house at about eye level and they were playfully wrestling. The larger monkey threw the smaller one against the wall and bit his neck, and my classmate shouted “oh man he just bit that guy! that’s what’s up!!” and I swear the monkey looked right at us, and smiled. The unquestioned high point of the day was when we passed the lemur fence though. There was roughly 15 lemurs just hanging out right on the side of the path on a wooden fence and they were watching us coming for a long time. Luckily I had a banana in my pocket and I thought I’d see if they were hungry, and they were! I can’t even begin to explain through words how excited I was, THE LEMUS ACTUALLY CLIMBED ME TO GET THE BANANA. I HAD A LITERAL MONKEY ON MY ACTUAL BACK! At one point there were three monkeys climbing my legs and reaching for pieces of the banana and I was just so happy.