Couple months later...

Welp, it's been a couple months since my last post-- this'll be the one that seals this blog shut for good, probably.

In two days, I'll have been home for two months. Summer's been really fun, and I'm just now finally coming out of the financial hole I was in for a couple months, so that feels pretty good. Shoemaker, Garret, his girlfriend Sheena and my tons-o-fun cousin Patrick will be living together in the fall, and I'm pretty stoked for that. I get a whole basement to myself, complete with a den and weight room. I can smell the BBQ and man sweat from impromptu wrestling matches already.

I'll take the opportunity to answer a couple FAQ's about my trip to clear things up:

1. What was your favorite place?

Looking back on it, the best country I visited was Ireland. I know that served kind of as a base for my education and travel, but the atmosphere in that place is one of a kind and can't be topped by anything (although the UK comes in a close second). Greece was beautiful, Italy was historic, mesmerizing and a huge toll on the eyes and heart, Bruges had great beer, and the Prague was a great spot for a kid my age, but none of these places really hit me like Ireland did. When people ask me this one I usually just think to myself, Which place would I go back to in an instant? or If money wasn't an issue, where would I live other than the USA? and I almost always think Ireland or the UK. So there you have it.

2. How was traveling?

I wish I could just memorize the link to my blog so everyone who asks me can just read about the whole thing, but in a nutshell, awesome is the word to use, in the grandest sense. All encompassing meanings of the word were experienced during the travels. I was completely by myself in Italy and the Czech Republic for a week, and on my own to make new friends and learn new things the remainder of the semester. And that was great. I learned a lot about myself. I'm a traveler... a very outgoing dude, but I'm also still a home-body and love Iowa and America wholeheartedly. The 30 days I traveled Europe (and subsequent trips to the UK) was basically me trying to jam over 70 years of experience and centuries upon centuries of developed culture and history into a 3 pound Beamish-soaked, college-aged brain. So It's going to take a little while for that information to sink in. At least when I'm sitting in my office at age 30 I'm not going to regret anything I did in my youth, and maybe at least... what, 30% of that month of information will have been processed.

I still haven't had that "A-ha" moment where I realize what I just saw and the whole experience kind of seems like a dream due to the fact that although I was out of the States for 5 months, it seemed like I was only gone for a couple weeks. Now my summer is shrinking before my eyes.

3. If you could do it over again what would you do differently?

Let me make this clear, I ahd the best trip of my life last semester, and realize that it was probably a once in a lifetime experience, and have no regrets. But here's a few places I'd like to see that I didn't quite make it to. I didn't ever make it back to the EU to see Normandy, and I never made it to Germany to see the Reichstag, the the Hofbrauhaus in Munich. Being a huge WWII buff, seeing all this would have been icing on the cake, but it can wait for a later date. I'll get back there somehow, sometime... if it means not having kids till I'm in my mid 30's or something. Seeing more of the countryside in the UK would have been great, and the same goes for Italy. My trip was pretty urban-centered. Another thing I'd like to do is tour solely Eastern Europe. The Czech Republic was as far as I got, but I'd love to backpack through Romania (especially Romania-- don't know why, just looks cool), Croatia, Poland, Serbia, Istanbul and other areas of Turkey. It's cheaper and the natural spectacles are plentiful. Scandinavia wasn't touched either on this trip, and Norway would be cool as well.

4. What are you going to do now?

I'm going into my senior year at Iowa State, and hopefully will graduate in Summer 2010 after finishing up my required internship credit. I'm working on a presentation that I'll link to this blog crammed full of pictures (about 100 or so from Ireland and about 20-50 of each other country) while I sit in the Event Staff office at the Union with nothing to do, but I can't give an estimate on when that will be done. You can bet that I might have it done by the time classes start again. Aside of work, I'm also exercising and re-vamping my digestive system to perform like it did while in Ireland, writing music and drumming for a band that I joined at the beginning of the summer. Once school starts up again, juggling work, my band, class and my friends will be quite the deal. As far as long term goals go, Eastern Europe, Tanzania, Japan, New Zealand and Australia are other places I'm going to see before my youth is over. Well, that and when the slew of student loans finally get paid off.

Lastly, just want to thank everyone for following this all spring, and especially my parents for making all this possible.

Cheers

Obvious John Denver Reference

I'm leaving Ireland and am at a loss for words. My chest feels like it's going to cave in, and I can't determine if the shaking I'm constantly experiencing is anxiety or excitement.

The last days were unbelievable, and some of the best of my life. Friday night the girls were tired, so I went to the Mardyke for a last workout. Three hours of ab-whaling, bicep-pumping, neck-swelling, cardiovascular cleansing, and Michael Phelps appreciating later I was as sore as an Iowa fan after handing over the Cy-Hawk trophy. No one wanted to go out, so my buddy Tom and I caught the late showing of Star Trek. Most entertaining movie I've seen in a while, for nerds and normals alike. Good night it was.

Saturday is where it got interesting. Did some last minute shopping and bought supplies for the feast. The feast was bountiful to say the least. Hocine and I whipped up two big fat Irish hens, spuds, carrots and onions drizzled in garlic cloves, curry, thyme and rosemary. Sweet Christ, was it delicious! That's not all either. We also made a really delicious shrimp curry over rice, and my New Yorker pal Dylan brought up some homemade mexican rice with kidney beans. Throw a bottle of gin, a few fresh limes, Team America: World Police (for cooking motivation), some Guinness Foreign Extra, and over a dozen great friends and you've got yourself one hell of a last night out, as far as I can say. The night ended with a run to An Spailpin Fanac and An Brog for some good old-fashioned Irish debauchery. Possibly one of the best nights of my life, disregarding the amount of packing and cleaning I had to undertake.

Sunday I woke up, finished the packing and made my way to church. Church was great. My favorite Scripture reading, John 15, was featured... "My only command to you is this... love each other as I have loved you." and Rev. Dunne spoke of accepting diversity within the church and loving all beings of life regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation or social class. I couldn't have asked for a better final service in Ireland. After this I moseyed on down to UCC to take some pictures (although it was pouring rain) and a last walk around Cork. Feeling kind of depressed on the subject of my departure, I made my way back to my flat, where Garrett surprised me. Thank God that dude was there because I was about to break down. We took a stroll in the yard at St. Finbarre's, and came back home to see that Jurassic Park was on TV. Today just worked out in my favor unbelievably well. I'm glad my friends were all there for me and that constant random spirit-lifters happened throughout the day. For my last-last meal, I whipped up some roast beef with red wine sauce and mushrooms and a fine cabernet savignon. Fine as in around 6 quid. Fine enough for me. After I parted ways with Dylan and Tom, Garrett and I headed to the pub for a last pint of Beamish, then onto Sober Lane to bid adieu to the Boston crew. The night was capped off by a jam session... Andrea slappin the table, me strumming the guitar and wailing out lyrics, and Garrett right there with me. Hocine watched as we had the time of our lives. Time of my life, man. Time of my life. I love this country and hope I'll be back someday soon.

Slan go foill--- Peace be with all of you.

London Day Two

Ok! It's my second to last day in Cork--- and guess what. Pouring rain outside. Go figure. I'll write about my last few days tomorrow before I make my last crawl. But for now, I'll continue on London.

I left last time discussing my little stroll around Soho/Picadilly Circus. I hadn't really spent money on anything and actually considered checking out the Ripley's Believe It or Not museum. Nope. Probably not worth the money. I decided to call it a night early though (around 8) because I had been basically walking for a total of 9 hours that day.

A couple of gin-and-tonics (when in London...) later I was nestled safely in my bed at my accomodation. The place I stayed at was in Paddington, Northern Westminster, and was called The Green Man. It was, essentially, a bona-fide public house. There was a bar downstairs that also served food, and the top two floors were dorms. Pretty cool place.

The second day I woke up, checked out, and took the Tube clear over to the East Side and met up with a tour that would allow me to see London Tower, the Tower Bridge, the financial district and a whole bunch of other stuff. The tour guide was probably the best I've ever had. Very enthusiastic and presented an entertaining and engaging look at the history of Old London. Edu-info-tainment at it's finest.

I saw a lot. Some other stops were at The Bank of England (Rowling's inspiration for Gringott's bank) was one of them. Apparently what I saw was only the tip of the iceberg as the bank supposedly goes down underground about ten stories. Try robbing that son of a gun, Danny Ocean. But that was located, ironically, by where the old Cheapside area was in London. I also found out that the City of London pays a dude to be the "mayor" of Old London, but his primary responsibility is to allow Queen Elizabeth entrance into the city. The tradition is she can't leave Westminster, where all the Royal attractions are located without his permission. So whenever she needs to christen a ship or appear or whatever the Queen does, she has to call this guy for his permission to actually walk across the Thames into London. Great story, right? Moving on.

We saw Millenium Bridge, Tower Bridge, and City Hall. The office apparently, to the tour guide, was shaped like a giant testicle and is referred to by most locals as the "Testicle Building". Funny stuff right there. The Thames, for the record, is THE dirtiest river in the world. Gross. If you drop your foot in that water, don't be surprised when you grow an extra toe or four. We also saw St. Paul's Cathedral. I didn't go in here because it was expensive, and I had seen the Vatican a couple weeks earlier and figured I could live without seeing it. The tour ended on Fleet Street, where the tour guide plopped us down and talked to us about WWII and how it changed London forever, which was a great little schpiel. He talked about how there would be up to 40-50,000 citizens jammed into the tube stations each night to escape the bombing, and how Uncle Winnie took the fight to the Germans at Berlin before they bombarded the East Side, working class civilians of London.

After the tour broke off, I returned to the legal district, which is supposedly used as a movie set quite a bit since it blocks off so much of the noise that comes with walking around London. Apparently Johnny Depp was sighted a couple weeks back, filming his new Sherlock Holmes movie. This place was also the location of the Church of the Knights Templar. These guys went on crusades for God back in the crusade days and were referred to as the Poor Soldiers of Christ, although through trade expansion they became filthy rich, and subsequently hunted down and murdered by Pope Clement and the Catholic Church. Since the Da Vinci Code became popular, thousands of tourists flock to the area, even being so stupid as to break into the church after hours to search for the Holy Grail.

Next I walked down to the Old Bailey, snapped some pictures and took off towards Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. This is where London went from awesome to amazing. I walked up to the concierge standing outside of the theater and asked the gentlemen if there were any tours available. He looked at me and said "Tours? You're in luck my friend. For 5 pounds you can see Romeo and Juliet in the theatre." My response, of course, was basically, "You're kidding me. Really? You have no idea how excited I am right now." I can't believe how lucky I was. I walked in and and missed all the boring stuff. Walking into the place was quite the epic experience. Drums pounded vigorously as Romeo and Tybalt duked it out. The acting was brilliant. I got to stand about 10 feet from the stage, and I could grab a beer and a packet of crisps at intermission for 3 quid. But this incident, overall, was my favorite London experience by a landslide. Of course, the place was just a reconstruction of the theatre, as the original burnt down in the 1500s as a result of one of the several "Great Fires" of London wiped out most of the city. But the reconstruction was great. Thatched rooves, Wooden seating, early Christian art accenting the older design pattern on opposite sides of the stage. Great experience!

I still had about 2 hours of daylight left, and was thinking about what to do when I realized I'm a Beatles fan. More of a Rolling Stones fan actually, but I like the Beatles, and have a couple friends that are goofy obsessed with them, so the only thing I could see myself doing was heading up to St. John's Wood and walking the Abbey Road crosswalk. After finding it, a Chilean couple snapped photo for me while I triumphantly walked it with no shoes or socks on. I don't want to go all fanboy or nerd out or anything, but I skipped showering till Friday after my workout. There could be a strand of Paul's DNA still engrained into my calloused feet. Moving on...

I looked around for a restaurant called St. John, which I saw on the Anthony Bourdain show about a year back. After realizing I was in the wrong part of town, I gave up on that and took another stroll through a park, this time Regent's Park and St. John's Wood. Quite relaxing. Lots of swans. Eat your heart out, Lake LaVerne. After this, headed to Liverpool Street, hopped on the Stansted Express and zonked out at the airport for a few hours before catching my 6 AM flight right in the nick of time.

Not too shabby for only technically being in London for around, what 30 hours? Sorry that blog ran a little lengthy, trust me, I can still elaborate more when I get home if you'd be intersted.

Slán go fóill

But there's no place like London...

... no there's no place like London.

That was from "Sweeney Todd" if anyone's seen that. One of my favorite musicals. I walked up and down Fleet Street looking for Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop to no avail. Well, of course. Because that's in a movie. And it isn't real. And I didn't really do that.

But yeah, I'm back from my little excursion to London Town. I saw a lot of stuff.

I got there at about 9 AM, grabbed a P.O.G. (pint of Guinness) at the Green Man while I quick thought up a game plan. I was pretty tired as I had just gotten about 3 or 4 hours of sleep the night before. It was about a 10 minute walk from the place to Hyde Park. Which was the biggest park I'd ever seen. The main thing I deduced from this place goes as follows: If you live in London, and you have a dog, and you don't bring him here at least once a week... YOU are an a-hole. But from here, I continued walking into Kensington Gardens, where they have the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain, Peter Pan Statue and the Prince Albert Memorial, as well as Kensington Palace and surrounding gardens. This was basically Hyde Park minus the football fields. Grabbed a tea from the Rose Garden Cafe and checked out the WWII Memorial at Wellington Arch.

Tourist time! After this, I headed to Buckingham Palace. Which was alright, just a HUGE building. No guards with fuzzy black hats, no visible sight of the Royal Family's motorcade or anything. From here, I skipped on down to Parliament/Big Ben/Westminster Abbey. I've never seen so many friggin' schoolkids in my life. The only option for seeing Westminster Abbey, since their opening hours are very limited, was going to the Choral Evensong. This was a good deal because by this time my feet were thinking, "All right, moron. You've been walking on us for 6 hours, wearing nothing but a pair of flip flops. You are going in that church and sitting your ass down for a little while."

So I listened to the little guys. Walking into church, I stepped on Charles Darwin's grave. This made me chuckle and marvel simultaneously; because even though he's possibly one of the greatest scientists to have ever lived, every (well, not EVERY one of them) atheist I know does nothing but whine about Christianity and idolize this guy and Richard Dawkins. Their idol (kinda contradictory for an atheist)'s corpse is buried in a church where the Royalty of England have been crowned for over thousand years. (Insert omitted rant on religion). Just funny to me. But I digress. Tolerance.

The evensong was beautiful. All sang by a monastic choir... never had heard that before so it was a first. But I picked a bad seat. I was surrounded by a bunch of stupid Norwegian kids and their cock-eyed, half-brained teacher who insisted on not shutting them up. At all. Even the rector in charge of seating called him on his crap.

Rector says, "Excuse me kids, if you think something's funny then you can leave. Who's in charge of this group?"
"I am in charge," says the teacher.
"Well, you're not succeeding very well now are you? You'll have to keep them under control or you're all leaving immediately."

I cracked up a bit at that one, and the kids thankfully canned it the rest of the service. To quote Church Lady: "Now isn't that special?!" After the service, of course, was a science vs. religion debate going on right there in the sanctuary. As much as I wanted to sit around and watch it, I didn't come all the way to London to hear two rich, haughty women vomit their opinions back and forth to each other. If I wanted to see that, I'd go to a Parliament session (which unfortunately wasn't open at all during my stay in the town). But if it had, alas! FOR ONCE I'd finally see a congress with the balls to spare the propaganda and verbally pummel their corrupt executive leaders into a veritable pulp.

After church I walked down the Thames to West End, where I checked out Trafalgar Sqaure and walked up to Soho to check out the sights, and East over to the theatre district. No Spamalot, darn. After a quick chips 'n curry at Leicester Square, I made my way over to the Picadilly Circus. Very touristy, but it was cool to see.

That's all for now, I'll add another entry on London tonight or tomorrow sometime as well as add pictures!

Slán go fóill

A whole bunch of maybes.

Welp, sweet.

All done with finals, and I'm leaving in a week! Leaving this scenic wonder of a place. Oh, boy. The weather. The craic. The air. The people. It's all going to change in about a week.

Took me about 20 seconds to write this sentence for lack of something to say.

I guess that's just kind of how it goes. After I "advertising majored" it through my last exam, I shut the blue book, held it up in the air, and that was when it hit me-- I'm leaving my second home in one week and won't be coming back for a long time. This is crazy. Did someone tie my ankle to the small arm of the clock and sit there spinning it like a kid with ADHD and no Nintendo? Is this some kind of joke that the powers that be are playing on us? Why does it speed up so much?

Anyways, I'd go into the whole "Why I'll miss it so much" spiel, but that's not what I'm about. I'm not going to dwell on what I don't have, or the people I can't be with. Moping is counter-productive. The friends I've made here have a very close bond, not just within each other but within the atmosphere we have come to love so well. But we have all matured greatly in our time here, even if we don't show it. My life is not going to suck when I get back. I'm not going to sit there and compare the life I've recently lived with my past life.

Home's coming, and it's going to be fantastic. I'll make it fantastic. This is probably the biggest lesson learned here. It's cliched, but life is only as good as you make it to be. And this last semester was an in-fricking-credible ride. It's been good.

To be honest, I know I've changed but I have no idea how. That's for everyone else to decide. Maybe you can tell already. Maybe not. I'm not expecting anything when I return home. Not expecting the same ol', same ol'. Everyone else has changed as I have... that is the way of things. The mind is open and ready to absorb. I've become pretty good at that, seems how I've been doing it at a constant rate for the past 140 days, excluding the pub sessions and following slumber.

I'm just going to return back, happy as a fat kid with an endless supply of beef (wait...) I'm really excited to see everyone, and to see how people have changed. Maybe I'll run into some people that I had taken for granted before I left. It's just a whole bunch of maybe's at the moment.

Finals are done, my room is going through a thorough cleaning process, and I'm currently jamming all my junk into the one suitcase I brought with me. I must be daft to think I'm going to cram all that stuff in one suitcase, but dammit I'm going to try. Tomorrow I'm flying solo to London on a 20 hour siteseeing frenzy, then figure out how in God's name I'll say goodbye to the, what... dozens of friends I've made and come to love and secretly loathe over the semester. This will be fun. Maybe I'll think of something really funny and write it down and post it on the blog in the mean time.

Oh, almost forgot. Last weekend I went to Galway. Saw a really good U2 cover band and stood on the edge of a (don't quote me on this) 300 foot cliff. I have an intense fear of heights, so this was quite an achievement for me. Considering that the sporadic wind gusts had to have been in the 40-5o mph range, I wasn't exactly being safe walking the brink of certain death. But I'm writing so two-thumbs up for that! The waves were so huge that they would crush against the cliffs, sending salt water at least a solid 60 feet above the ground, pelting the sight-seers, which was amazing to me. It was beautiful. Here's a picture:



Thanks for reading this whole semester everyone, I really appreciate it. I'll keep writing every once in a while over the next week if I think of anything.

Oh yeah, I'm also 21 in 9 days. Seriously? That's the age of an official adult. Great.

Peace out,
Slán go fóill

--Brendan

The Long and Winding Road

Well, I'm safe and sound, back in the greatest country in the world. Ireland. Man, I love this place. To a gross extent. I literally kissed the ground when I hopped off the bus from Dublin the other night. But I was glad to be back indeed. The ride from Dublin to Cork was one to remember. The iPod battery was shot, but it miraculously played through a solid 4 albums before kicking the bucket. Sheep, cattle, hills, little towns with different colored buildings. It made me wonder what the hell I was doing in Dublin all day looking at gray buildings and a touristy brewery, when I could have been walking about, gazing at the Irish landscape. Beautiful. Especially Co. Tipperary.

Anyways, I've successfully made it through the thick, dense cultural beef stock that is the continent of Europe. The long and winding road has brought me back here. Over the span of 30 days, I have seen enough places and had enough insane/gorgeous/shocking experiences to fill four lifetimes. Over 30 days. My brain is a tick about to pop. Over the last semester, I have been to 11 countries, experienced at least a half a dozen or more different languages and dialects, and learned to conquer public transportation with an iron fist. And my legs couldn't be in better shape. I challenge you to a foot race when I return.

I've been ripped-off by a Roman cab driver, sang drinking songs with Germans, spelunked to various evening recreational locations in Prague, burned my pale, white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant skin on a black beach in the Aegan Sea, walked the foothills of the French Alps, sailed a boat into the Atlantic in Portugal, rode a 4-wheeler up a Greek mountain, saw the throne where St. Peter was once seated, munched on tapas in Madrid, mowed down on pizza in front of the Pantheon, witnessed beautiful music in Venice, took a gander at the Book of Kells, scarfed a waffle in Belgium and capped it all off with a nice pint of Guinness in Dublin.

But that last sentence hardly scraped the surface of it all. Not even close. If you would like more stories, I'll be whipping up a huge PowerPoint over the month of June covering it all. The whole she-bang. I will gladly e-mail it to you. Or of course, I'd gladly explain it over a steak, some noodles or other meat/gravy/bread combination.

Iowa is calling me, and it's time to return. But the arms of Ireland will be forever tugging at my heels. In church this morning a lady said to me, "You might not have any Irish blood in you, but no worries, you will when you get back to the states. It'll be flowing then. You get hooked." I gotta tell ya, the blood pressure's starting to soar.

The next couple weeks are my last. I'm headed home the 18th. It's so close I can taste it. It's sweet and ripe. But to get to the strawberries, first I've gotta climb through the obstacle of finals and make a quick getaway to London-town. I'll keep updating as the week goes on.

Mini-Blogs on Countries

Ok... my hotel in Athens has free internet, so here's an update.

In about a month, I'll be a genuine, bona-fide adult. And as an adult with dignity and self-control, I'll refrain from using any cursing in the next sentence. Good night nurse (wink at Terry), this trip has been an experience so far. And by experience I mean eye-opening, shocking, awe-strickening, frightening, breathtaking, you-name-it-ing. I've seen on a whole (pause for a couple seconds to count) 7 countries in the past couple weeks, with 1 more to go before I get back to Ireland. It's like those cartoons you watch where the little guy's holding up a dozen cars on his head and when a sparrow lands on the top, the whole pile of crap topples. No matter how many birds land on the pile, you just gotta lock your knees in and bear the load. That's what it feels like when you backpack for a month. As fun as it is, it's a lot to take in, and you learn a lot about yourself. Here's what's gone down since Madrid. I'm gonna keep it short on all of them, and at the semester will be making either a powerpoint and posting it online somewhere, or maybe by some miracle of God, Shutterfly will hop off of the "I'm going to be a frickin' nuisance and not work on Brendan's laptop" bandwagon that all attempted photo-hosting sites seem to have started. Going caveman and burning an invididual CD with photos and memoirs for all that are interested could be another option. Who knows as of yet. Run-on sentences. They kill me.

Portugal---
Didn't know what to expect here, but it was cool. Everything was cheap compared to Ireland and Madrid, but still not that cheap. I'd have to post pictures because it's hard to explain what it looked like in detail. It's pretty much how I envision Brazil... fast-paced, lots of colors. All the houses had clothes hanging up outside which was pretty cool to see walking down back alleys. Porto's famed port wine might as well have been called "whiskey with a hint of cherry", and I ate the single most disgusting but filling thing ever, a Francesina. Yeah. I ate that. Actually half of it. I couldn't conquer it. Which was probably good seems how it the polar opposite of what a kid with a history of high blood pressure should technically be eating at midnight. Otherwise, we took a riverboat tour, walked around town, climbed a giant tower, saw the view... like I said, pictures are needed. No real interesting stories from this place though. I learned quickly the only way to avoid gypsies ("vendors" to the politically correct) is to deny their existence, because the second you ask what the price is, they shove whatver they are selling in your hand and try and swindle you to the point of sale, or if you are lucky, they actually leave you alone when you exclaim, "NO." or something to that extent. Portugal was good though. We went there basically because RyanAir flied there for cheap, and we got a cheap hostel. But it was a nice follow up from our fun outing in Madrid.

Belgium--
A. Brussels: wasn't that great. Well, the Groktmarket was cool. Cool's an understatement. It was gargantuan compared to the center in Bruges, but was also of a different makeup. Lots of Gothic looking buildings. That's about it though. Brussels is a city. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all practically. It was a pain trying to get around the train station because neither Connor or I had the slightest idea how to speak Flemish or French.
B. Bruges: This to the date is one of my favorite places. Best beer in the world, prettiest town on a whole. The town itself is the attraction. Everything I say about this town would practically be a direct quote from the film that I watched and loved so well. Here, I dined on waffles, took a canal cruise, touched the relic of Christ's blood, and nailed about every key site they filmed the movie onm including hanging out in the pub where the crew relaxed after a hard day's shooting schedule. I also had the best spaghetti I've ever had. 3 EUR got me a gigantic plate and a Hoegaarden... probably the best deal of the trip so far. I liked Bruges, very pretty medieval city. The best medieval city in Europe. Looks pretty Danish. Our hostel was cool too, we roomed with 3 Aussie ladies and a couple more who didn't speak a lick of English, so they kind of avoided us. I highly reccommend making a stop here if you come to Europe.

Switzerland---
Gonna be honest. Lake Geneva was nice. Geneva, was a city. A REALLY expensive one. We got off the plane to convert our euro's into Swiss Francs and were happy when we saw that the American dollar was actually worth more than the Franc, but our upside-down frowns subsided when we saw that a sandwich ran around 11-12 Francs. Wasn't too happy with Switzerland. It was cool to see the U.N. Headquarters Building though. That was probably my Switzerland highlight. But the funny part about this stop was: we weren't even IN Switzerland, we were actually in the South of France over 60% of the time. Our hotel was over the border, and we spent a day in Chamonix, which is basically the Breckenridge, Colorado of the French Alps. That city was gorgeous, but expensive. I enjoyed a day walking around in the Sun, taking a 3 or 4 mile walk out of town and back, and reading a good book at a lodge pub for a while when Connor paid the extra 100 or so Francs to take the tram to the Augille du Midi, one of the highest points in the French Alps. Mountains aren't my thing, I like the Minnesota lake... but this was a neat place, glad I went there instead of bumming around in Geneva gawking at how expensive everything was. Those Swiss and their banks and their money. (Shakes fist).

Rome---
Nuts. Awesome. That's all there really is to say. I loved it. The Colosseum and Roman Forum was the coolest thing I've ever seen, and it was surreal going to the Trevi Fountain at night when it wasn't swarmed with tourists, and doing a pub crawl from the Spanish Steps where a group of Germans and Irish took me under their wing for the night, telling me how awesome Obama is or how inferior every other country's beers are compared to theirs. Sorry about the run-on sentence. Coolest place. Not prettiest, but coolest. History around every corner. A map is pointless. Just walk, you'll find something. I checked out the Vatican on Easter weekend, and I had never seen that many people in my life. Again, nuts. I didn't go in, but will be going back in a couple days to see the Sistine Chapel (biggest goal on the trip). Looking forward to it greatly. I also met up with fellow-ISU and lifelong friend, Brianna Weis, who is teaching music in Rome for the semester. We played some frisbee by the Sant' Angelo Castle and went for a walk before I had to make a run for the airport. A literal run. A sprint. It was basically, I was the last person to get on the plane, 20 minutes before it left. Thanks for that one, God. And Brianna for putting me on the right train. I'd never been more stressed in my life, and am pretty sure it took me till the second day in Santorini to fully cool-off. I'm actually balding/getting gray hair from that. No joke. Rome will be fun when we head back, now that I know NOT to cut it close at an airport or take a Rome taxi home from the pubs.

Santorini's worth an extra blog, so maybe I'll talk about that tomorrow. I better get to bed. Please excuse the grammatical errors, I just kind of typed this in a stream-of-consciousness format. Thanks for reading, hope all's well over in the States. Never thought I'd say this, but I miss all of you, and I miss my country. Have a good one everybody. Slainte.

¡Viva España!

Official statement: Madrid´s a beautiful city. Check this out.

We got out of bed at around 4:30 in Dublin and caught the 6 AM flight to Madrid, walked around all day today. From about 10 AM to 9 PM.

I´ve gotta tell ya folks, I can´t stress enough how glad I am that I spent 3 years in high school attempting to learn Español. Believe me, a few words go a LONG way.

Today we´ve drank Sangria atop a rooftop villa (rhyme not intended), walked into the Catedral de Santa Maria (rhyme also not intended), strolled along the Plaza España (above), and the list goes on. I´m gonna go out on a limb and say that I´m impressed. Impressed that a naive group of 20 year old college kids from the U.S. can transfer through subways, buses, and walk around the capital city of a country weve never set foot in, see all the stuff we did, and just within about 8 hours of the plane touching down. Amazing. If every day this month goes as well as the today, we are in for one hell of a fun, educational and eye-opening experience.

Day two: took a bus tour around the modern/historical part of Madrid, saw a lot of the stuff we did yesterday and more. Don´t remember most of the names, though. BUT, I did pop in to the Museo Thyssen for about an hour. This is a huge art museum, not Louvre huge, but huge. The first 2 floors were kind of boring to me, not being a huge art enthusiast (although Dali´s paintings are messed up, in a good way) I was bored. But then I got to the third floor and there were more 15th and 16th century paintings depicting biblical events, about over a hundred re-imaginings of the crucifixion, and plenty of landscapes of Venice, Rome, and Athens (and the mythology that goes with the area). So that was cool, I guess.

Anyways, take care, I probably won´t update again untill we arrive in Belgium. We´re staying in a town called Bruges, which is basically the "Venice of the North". It´s loaded with canals and is the most well-preserved medieval city in the whole of Europe. It´s also where they filmed one of my favorite movies, In Bruges (rent it, GREAT film), starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson (<--Mad Eye Moody or Hamish from Braveheart) so I´m going to try and nail all the locations they shot it in. Slainte!

Leavin' on a Jet Plane...

Hey everyone.

I'm gonna make this short, because I have to catch a bus.

Where am I going?

A lot of places. Tonight we are staying in Dublin, and leaving really early tomorrow to catch a plane for Madrid, Spain. I'll keep updating you on where I've been, but expect a check-up more often, as I now am free from the grasp of schoolwork for mere month.

I'm going to see stuff throughout this next month that I never in my wildest dreams thought I would see. Somehow, I don't think it's totally set in yet. It will once I'm on this bus headed to the airport though.

Thanks for reading, and I'll check in with you again within the week. I'm off to explore for a little while. See what's out there.

Slan go foill,

Brendan

P.S.--- Scroll down and you'll find what I completed of my Scotland blog. Please drop me a line if you have any questions.

Saint Patrick's Day

Happy St. Paddy's Day a week ago, everyone!

Just thought I'd throw up a ditty about the festivities. To say that it was a really fun holiday would be a grotesque understatement. It was a veritable cornucopia of dance, song, the craic, and the color green. Plus the weather was the opposite of Irish, which made for a nice laid-back afternoon in the park on Grand Parade. The voices of Ronnie Drew, Luke Kelly and Shane MacGowan could be heard at nearly any pub, and the pints were a flowin'. But it was nothing like America, as I saw no one drinking 'green beer', and there were most definitely no corny shirts exclaiming "Kiss Me, I'm Irish." At least from what I observed. The only truly American thing I saw all day was Ol' Glory sometime during the parade, which I might add was pretty cool. There were some really intricate balloons, intimidating servicemen, and Green, White and Orange flags galore. No gigantic marching bands, though.

But guys, I DID hear some Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys at the Brog. They are two bands from the States that play punk rock with a bit of a traditional Irish influence. Which surprised me, because the natives usually don't take those bands very seriously.

Overall, it was a great time and it was an honor and a privilege to spend the holiday it it's original homeland.

Ring of Kerry

Above Photo: Killarney National Park

About a month ago, I jumped at the opportunity to snag the last seat on a weekend trip to county Kerry. The trip was last weekend and it was a pretty good time. The Ring of Kerry is the biggest tourist attraction in the whole of Ireland. The route covers the 170 km circle that starts in Killarney and rings through the villages of Sneem, Waterville and Cahersiveen (where our hotel was) and Ballinskelligs.

The Ring of Kerry boasted some of the best landscapes Ireland has to offer, and sheep/person ration was probably around 20/1. Which is understandable... the soil in the area is very infertile, so instead of growing crops, they let the sheep graze and

produce a LOT of wool. Anyways, we saw more than just sheep. Our tour guide, Marian, teaches Modern Irish (Gaeilge) at UCC and was raised in the southeast Kerry, so she had mad connections. Our coach driver took us places that Marian assured us were 'unreachable' to the average tourist, especially in the off-season. I could see why, seems how half the roads the bus drove on were roads I'd feel uncomfortable taking the little ol' Cougar on. There was a time when we were coming back from a slate cavern outside of Ballinskelligs and a man in a Benz came face-to-face with us. Knowing he couldn't get around, he simply drove backwards at around 30 mph for what had to have been a few kilometers. Extremely impressive driving.


But we saw many different landscapes, some of the more impressive ones being the Skelligs and Killarney National Park. Skellig Micheal (which I couldn't get a great picture of) is an ancient medieval monastery named after, of course, Saint Micheal. What's impressive about this place is that about a dozen monks led by St. Finoin paddled a boat out 8 km to the Skellig, which is basically a huge (read: HUGE) rock. They climbed to its summit and literally carved a village out of the rocks. This is regarded as probably the greatest archaeological feat and testament to faith of the early medieval period. A monastery clinging to cliffs.


We also ventured to the home of Daniel O' Connell, one of the most famous Irish people of all time. He was known for his great oratory skills as a barrister and was the first Irishman to sit in the British Parliament. O' Connell inspired many civil rights activists such as Gandhi and Dr. King for his promotion of non-violence to achieve social equality for Catholics in Ireland, as the Protestant Reformation had alienated and discriminated a whole country of its inital religion. His house, called Derrynane, is a big tourist attraction as well. The house was actually kind of boring but the area surrounding it was cool. I've come to discover that I'm more of an "outside" tourist. But I shouldn't speak too soon for I haven't gone to Europe quite yet.


And of course, there was recreation. Ireland beat Scotland in the Six Nations Rugby tournament (meaning we are one win away from snagging the first grand slam in years. Yeah baby!). As much as I loved going to the country of my ancestors, I still rooted for Ireland. No use 'joining the side that is slaughtered'. Friday night we had a Ceili (dance), where we learned at least a half dozen traditional step-dances. This is basically a more upbeat version of square dancing, and my odds were great since I was one of 3 guys on the whole trip of around 60 people.


Overall: great weekend. Even after Scotland (the undisputed most beautiful place I've ever seen), the landscapes here were still jaw-dropping and eyebrow-raising. Scotland blog is coming soon, I haven't had the time to finish it. I'll post at least three more times this week. Finals are coming up and boy are they going to be brutal.

P.S.-- I just had an idea. If anyone reading this has any questions about Ireland or other places I've traveled, shoot me or Mom and e-mail and I'll gladly post about it.

Slan go foill!

Alba Gu Bra!

Loch Ness

Greetings fellow relatives, well-wishers and other readers.

March is crunch time for projects over here at UCC. Mix that with traveling somewhere different every weekend and trying to plan my month in the mainland and you've got my excuse for a delay in posting.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Scotland had to have been the coolest place I've ever seen in my short adult life. It's a little surreal knowing that just in three days, I stood on the spot of land where golf, the undisputed 'best sport in the world' was invented, saw where my ancestors raised and herded their cattle, spalshed my hands in a magestic Scottish loch, ate the parts of an animal that are usually thrown in the dumpster, and traveled to landscapes I had only seen during one of the dozen times I've watched 'Braveheart'.

If you've got about a half hour (or maybe longer...), I'll elaborate on what went down a couple weeks ago. This won't be a small post.

Where to begin? Really hard to decide. First, a little family history lesson. We took a bus tour to the Highlands. About 20 minutes after crossing the lowland/highland border (which is quite amazing as there is no gradual change in landscape, it's more of a BOOM! MOUNTAINS type of deal) I was told by our tour guide that we were in the country of the Clan MacGregor. According to the guide, our clan was an 'outlaw' clan. After years and years of a power struggle with the Clan Campbell, the McGregors had been 'outlawed' and relied on hunting deer, rustling cattle to survive. They became so great at doing this that other clans would pay the MacGregors to NOT steal their cattle. For future reference, the Campbells are a clan that aren't viewed very highly upon--as they were traitors, selling out many of the highland clans later on when the English sought to crush the Highland way of life. Cattle were the main commodity in the highlands... every year clans would herd their cattle down to the lowlands, so there had to be towns every 50 or so km for the Highlanders and their cattle to rest. In fact, cattle were so important that some of the highlanders would let the cattle in the house with them during bad weather.

But the main story the tour guide elaborated on was the story of Rob Roy. It starts with the war with on Clan Colquhoun for years over land and cattle, eventually wiping out most of the men. Refusing to become allies with the MacGregors, the remaining Colquhouns went to the King James VI and pledged allegiance to him in turn for revenge against the MacGregors. Now being completely banished, some of the outlaws such as Rob Roy, who was a Jacobite (didn't support monarchial rule) would steal from the rich oligarchs controlling the Highlands and re-distribute it through the suffering clans. He was seen as a 'real-life' Robin Hood in the Highlands and was a well-respected cattleman. I could go on and on about all this historical stuff, but I don't want to bore you, and there are MANY different sides to each story. A pub we stopped at on the way back from Loch Ness spouted some of these views. When introducing myself to the barman, he exclaimed his 'discontent' with the MacGregors, while the man next to me said "Don't take any of that to heart lad, the man's a Campbell. Never trust a Campbell!"

<-- Glencoe: best view I've ever seen!

But during the rest of our Highland adventure, we saw breathtaking landscapes, a highland bull, and experienced each season of weather within a matter of hours. The trip north to Loch Ness seemed like an Iowa blizzard, while the ride back down seemed like a humid, cool day in Ireland. Anyways, I had the seat up in front and my eyes were glued to the window the whole time.

The view at Loch Ness was great. I don't mean to go off on another history lesson, but the stories the tour guide were what made the trip. Back in the 7th century when St. Columba, a missionary from the island of Iona off the coast of Scotland, set out to convert the Celtics from their primitive pagan views to Christianity. He was having a rendezvous with a Chief and his clan in the Northeast Scottish Highlands. "You have one God, only one. How can one God's power be greater than all of our gods? We have a god of the sun, god of the trees, god of the water..." After much discussion, they all decided to take a dip in Loch Ness, and there... in the deep... came the monster. (This is where the tour guide keyed in the 'Jaws' theme song). The legend is that St. Columba saw a large, black figure in the water, and proceeded to pull out his cross, calling upon God to shield them from the beast. Sure enough, a ray of light shined upon the black mass, sending the figure back into the depths. In a state of shock and awe, the Pagan Celtic chief said "We have many gods, Saint Columba... but your God is allll powerful." So begins, the legend of the Loch Ness Monster. And the ensuing rabble of college students, Asians armed with cameras and dozens of 'Nessie fridge magnets.

Enough with the stories. Two more highlights on this trip for me were going to St. Andrews in the region of Fife to see the sights, including the Old Links, where golf, the undisputed 'best sport in the world' was invented. This sight was truly wondrous to behold, as the whole eastern side of the 18th hole was lined with miles of shell-covered beach. I wasn't able to get onto the course and snap a shot of the "hell bunkers" but do me a favor. Dig a six foot hole. Stand in it. Put a golf ball down. Try and hit it out. If you succeed, congratulations, you are one of the few people on this earth that could play at St. Andrews. Just make sure to call ahead a few years in advance to reserve a tee time.
To close with my experience, I gobbled down some Haggis, Neeps 'n Tatties (turnips and potatoes). Delicious. Want to know what Haggis is? Ok. Sheep? Those adorable farm animals that we cattle-farming McGregors see no purpose in? It's their lungs, liver and heart diced up with oatmeal, suet, onions and an array of other spices, cooked up within a sheep's stomach, served with Scotch whisky gravy. Not bad stuff, don't let your eyes decieve you. It's not something I'm going to drool at when I see in the menu or teach everyone to cook, but it was cool to say the least, that I can tell people I ate it.

Well, I better call it a day on this one, so far. If I have some down time over the next month, I'll tell some more stories about Scotland. Great country, coolest place I've ever seen, and it was an honor to see where my ancestors came from!

Slan
Brendan

Another little anecdote.

Just a mini-blog, like the 'Dogs' post.

I learned where Americans get the idea of 'fighting Irish' from last night. Of course, they've been fighting off the English and dealing with constant political turmoil/oppression for centuries, but here's how I discovered 'fighting Irish.'

Arriving home from a Tuesday evening at Cavanagh's, I opened the door to the flat and looked to the left to see a drenched window and two of my roommates completely soaked. Not only were they soaked, but the whole hallway/kitchen/common room of the place was immersed in water. Drenched. Apparently my Irish roommate, Stephen, made a snowball, took it upstairs and threw it at my roommate Katie. Being from New York, she's a fighter herself, so I guess they had been hurling bottles of freezing water at each other for at least a half hour. I couldn't miss out on this, so I joined Stephen's side. About 5 to 8 gallons later we had forced the girls into a cease-fire. This is another classic case of tomfoolery gone awry, but 'fighting Irish' was the term that came to mind as Stephen and I emptied liters of water onto our roommate's heads.

Childish? Yes. Bad idea? Yes. But we had fun, and I'm pretty sure that our flat's still the cleanest one in Deans Hall. The heaters have been cranked all day so I'm sure it's at least 50% dry. Good times. Have a good day/night, everyone.

On the March.

All's grand on this side of the pond.

I'm currently waiting to print off boarding passes for the weekend outing in Scotland, land of the clan. The printer line's pretty long, so I thought I'd quick post another entry.

Last weekend was pretty good. My archaeology class went on a day trip to West Cork to check out some archaeological sites. Highlight of the trip (other than the ocean) was seeing this:

(That's a cattle stanchion. On the side of a castle. The farmer who owned the pasture was lucky that his land just happened to house a castle that just happened to have the right size doorway to help tag calves. Cracked me up a little bit.)

Adding to the cattle story, I spent about 25 minutes explaining to some friends how our farm works and what it was like... judging by their facial expressions it seemed they'd rather move to Indonesia and work in a sweatshop than put in the hours and work performed by Iowa's farmers.

Most of the places we went to were similar to this. We saw a lot of land and walked down a path to Drombeg Stone Circle (which was basically Stonehenge Jr.)

After the day long field trip I met some friends at Cavanagh's and we watched Ireland beat, but not trounce the English rugby team. I proudly wore the Eire rugby jersey and supported my host country, but to be honest the game was a bit shoddy. Very defensive, but Ireland's best players had a bad night and there were plenty of scoring opportunities wasted. Sunday was church again, then a movie (Doubt, with Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman-- good movie, check it out), then a long walk around Cork. It was about 60 degrees on Sunday but that's all changed as I watched it snow on the way back from the pub last night.

Overall, it was a decent weekend. Probably my last one in Cork till God knows when. Referring to the entry title, I'll be "on the march" for practically the next three months. March is jam-packed with paper deadlines and weekend trips around Ireland, the whole of April will be a backpacking excursion across Europe, and May will also bring excitement, as I plan to check out Amsterdam, London, and perhaps Prague. I can't believe it's March already. The coming months will be a veritable mental and physical test of endurance, so it's a good thing that my recent exercise/study habits have taken a turn for the better. Welp, I'm gonna get marching, I'll leave this entry at that.

Again, sorry about the lack of pictures. I don't know what I have to do (besides take my time) to get more posted.

Slainte

Dogs

I'll make this one quick.

As I walk around this neat little town/country, I see dogs everywhere. Doesn't matter what kind of dog. Pick one. Corgi, Scottish Terrier, Cocker Spaniel, Golden Retriever... whatever, there's a lot of them.

For some odd reason which, for the life of me, I can't explain... the dogs here are unbelievably well-trained. Every day I see over a dozen dogs getting walked. The amazing part about this? Not a single one has a leash on it. The dog simply walks about fifty feet ahead of its master, knowing the direct route it takes. The master has little control over the dog and can simply enjoy a short stroll about the town, puffing away at his pipe.

Hell, you even see this with stray dogs. The dogs that lack a master. They know where they are going. Dogs stroll down the sidewalks of Cork, Bandon, Midleton or Clonakilty, and I swear that a dog would be walking down the street, just as a typical Irishmen does... quaintly nodding "good day" to passersby and soaking up the good life. Maybe a tourist or two will throw them some scraps or scratch their head. It's not like they are asking for it, it just happens on occasion. The strays will just walk by one another and interact ust as humans do. A slight nod to each other when crossing paths, that's all. No fighting, no sniffing, no barking, no nothing.

How the people train dogs to act like this, I have no clue. It's really impressive though.

Hooray, an update!

Hello all,

Hope everything's going well in good auld Iowa. It hasn't rained here in three weeks (knock wood), so I've been jumping at the chance to spend all the time I can outside running or taking in the scenery. Combine that with the mammoth load of Irish college assessment essays I've written/need to write and you'll get my reason for not taking the time to update you on recent happenings. Sorry.

Lately I've found that I don't always have to spend money on a day/weekend trip to find interesting places or experience new things. Take last Tuesday. One of my late night essay writing sessions ended up resulting in a missed alarm clock. I rolled over, grabbed my phone and sprung out of bed, realizing my weekly whistle lesson was half-over. What was usually 15-20 minute comfortable stroll to class turned into a ten-minute power walk up Sunday's Well Road in attempt to make my presence known. After failing to catch my professor before her daily two-hour tea/lunch break, I decided not to dwell on my boneheaded mistake and "walk it out". I continued down a steep, 'dodgy' looking alley to come across a white hanging bridge that lead to a huge garden complete with intricate shrubbery, cool sculptures, historical murals and vast arrays of trees ranging from palm to spruce. Think the Reiman Gardens if it spanned the area of a couple-three football fields. It was pretty impressive, but since it's February none of the flowers were in bloom. At least I found a new place to check out and take some pictures of when I get back to Cork in May from the Eurotrip.

Another unique aspect of Irish culture that can be experienced for free is, of course, going to church. The past few weeks I've been attending Sunday Choral Eucharist at St. Finn Barre's Cathedral which is located a stone's throw away from my apartment. I figured with the cathedral's location, starting time, and shenanigans that I get myself into (tongue-in-cheek), I've got no excuse to not go to church. Plus, how many times can a guy say "Oh, I was a regular at a Medieval Gothic Cathedral that has been active in worship for over a thousand years, no big deal." It's a great experience though. St. Finn Barre's is an Episcopalian (Catholic-lite) church, which is nice for me, beause being a confirmed Methodist, I can partake in the Eucharist without cheating a 2,000 year old doctrine of faith. The cathedral's interior is something I can't explain. Words, nor pictures can do it justice. I'll just say that every time I've gone there, the hairs on the back of my neck have been erect in awe. I don't know if it's the beautiful stain glass windows depicting biblical stories, the floor-shaking bass in 3,022 pipes of the organ, the angelic choir with people ranging from age 8 to 70, or the hospitable congregation and clergy. There's something about that place... it has something going for it, I'll tell you that much.

If I may, I'm going to pull a 180 in the next paragraph. This weekend I spent some time in Midleton (Co. Cork), a town famous for housing the Old Jameson Irish Whiskey distillery. The tour was touristy, but the place was really well preserved and it was fun to learn how Irish whiskey differs from Scotch or Bourbon not only by taste but by preparation. I'd get into the details of how it is made, but I'm just a mere consumer, not a producer. After the complimentary taste-test and drink at the end of the tour, I realized that the long, 12 year process of distilling the whiskey makes for a tasty, smooth end product.

(The front entrance to the distillery. The massive amount of windows were there because the grain stored in the house could ignite at any second, so the workers had to leave them all open to make sure the house was well ventilated.)

Well, I had planned on making this post a short, concise paragraph but alas, I don't have the willpower to control the amount of writing I put on an internet blog.

The next month will be interesting as I'm booked solid every weekend till I come home traveling to different spots in Europe/UK/Ireland, so you can expect a little more from me.

Until next time...

Slainte! (<-pronounced slahn-chi)

Catch Up.

I'd like to start by apologizing for not putting a lot of pictures up for everyone to see. The internet isn't the greatest in this country, and whenever I attempt to upload stuff onto my Shutterfly, the internet usually kicks out and all progress is lost. You think if a guy paid money to have available wireless internet in his flat, he'd have available wireless internet. Oh well, sorry about that. I'll see what I can do.

Anyways, I think it's been about a week since I last wrote, so here's what I've done. On Saturday, a large portion of the people I hang out with either went home for the weekend or road tripped to Dublin, so I decided to hop on a bus head on down to Kinsale (a harbour town at the mouth of the River Bandon) and check out the ocean and cool sailboats for a while. I must say that every time I travel, I see something more awesome. My trip to Kinsale marked the first time I had ever seen an ocean in my entire life, so that was pretty heavy. I was shocked and awed. But overall it was a pretty good trip. I walked around Kinsale for a little while and took pictures, even a couple of the fishing/sailboats. The locals have my sympathy... It kind of sucks that over on this continent every single beautiful natural spectacle can't be genuinely peacefully inhabited due to throngs of eager tourists.

Everything else is going reasonably well. I learned this week that it's time to hit the books, because technically my semester is over in about a month. It's nuts how fast it has gone already. I've met some cool people and had a lot of fun soaking up the 'culture and the craic' but I've realized that they don't call it 'study abroad' for nothing. I'll end up with one written exam during May (which is finals month), and probably write all my assessment papers for other classes before leaving on the Eurotrip. So that's not too shabby.

I'll leave you with another picture from the trip to Kinsale Town, and have a good one till the next time I post. I'm going to try and do a long weekend in Edinburgh, Scotland in about three weeks, so I'm really looking forward to that.


Slainte!

Snow...

I got up to make the 15 minute up-hill trek to my lesson and was
bombarded by a snowfall that wouldn't seem all that out of place back home. It's times like these when I'm glad I grew up in Iowa as opposed to Arizona, because no matter how bad the weather gets here it's still mild compared to home. Regardless of the weather, I managed to finally catch the bug that's been going around so I figured I'd give a quick update while I'm recuperating.

The last week was by far the funnest I've had here. I've experienced what many would consider as the 'true Ireland'; mingling with new found Irish counterparts and French friends over pints of Beamish and the ethereal sounds of fiddles, uilleann pipes and Irish flutes, looking at castles and cathedrals, and having "the craic" in some smaller villages. The weather has been consistently crappy, but I've started to travel a little bit, work out more often and actually find time to read some very inspiring Irish literature a la Samuel Beckett, Martin McDonagh, Thomas Davis and, of course, W.B. Yeats.

Last weekend I went on a field trip for my Archaeology class to North Cork and County Tipperary. We visited such esteemed sites as Labbacallee (or "Bed of the Old Woman"), the largest prehistoric wedge tomb in the whole of Ireland, Castle Glanworth, and the famous Rock of Cashel. Words or pictures can't really describe the level of awesome displayed by these places, but I promise today I'll try and get some pictures posted on my shutterfly account... I've been procrastinating on that too much.

Sunday night I played poker with a few of my Irish friends, Matt, Colm, Kyle, Roisin and co. before joining up with my American clan to watch the late nite live-air of the Super Bowl. I'll say that the game was great craic, and the Boss put on one hell of a halftime show, but not being able to see the U.S.A.'s legendary commercials took at least half the fun out of watching it. This weekend, the weather's supposed to be bad so my buddy Connor from UMass and I are going to start planning for the big EuroTrip on spring break. So far we've talked about hitting up Bruges, Amsterdam, Prague, Greece, Rome, Florence, Venice, Munich, and possibly a stop in Paris or Barcelona. Looks like we've got our work cut out for us and will have to buy some new shoe soles if we're going to nail all those spots in just a month.

Slainte!

Irish Fayre

Hope everything's going well over in the States. Today I woke up to find that the sun was out, so I jumped at the chance to walk around outside. I made for a place in the City Centre called the English Market, which is basically a huge marketplace with dozens of butcher shops, vegetable stands, and places that provide other goods such as chocolate, cheese, spices, wine, coffee/tea, etc. There was even a place that made its own pasta. Everything's all fresh, and the place just smells amazing (unless you venture over towards the section that displays 50 feet of fresh fish). The prices are also very reasonable compared to going to the Tesco (Irish Wal-Mart) to get your produce and meat. I'm really jacked at the fact that I've got some beef to eat and some fresh rice and veg to throw together for a meal this week. I've gotta learn how to cook sometime, so I figure if I'm going to do it, I better go and get the best Irish ingredients available.

Slainte!

Hey Mom!

First paragraph of this blog dedicated to my beautiful Mum, and my aunt Terry if she reads--- two of your musical idols, Phil Collins and Jimmy Buffett, play pirates in Captain Hook (Dustin Hoffman)'s crew on the 1991 movie "Hook". Just a taste of the stuff I'm learning over here. Thought that would entertain you.

Just thought I'd give everyone a quick update. Everything's going well, I'm starting to adjust to the rain a little bit by instating a strict daily drying schedule for my 3 pairs of pants I brought over. Like they say in Cork... if you don't like the weather, wait a couple hours.

I had my first tin whistle lesson on Tuesday. My professor's office was located on a road that is at the highest summit in Cork City, on the top floor of the west wing of a Catholic cathedral, so in order to actually get to my lessons, I've got quite the trek. She said that for not having a lot of experience in the instrument, I'm starting off very well and will be challenged with an even more difficult song in next week's lesson. God help me, since the first one basically consisted of me reiterating what I saw and heard from watching her fingers and listening for the correct pitches during the songs. I guess I'll just have to reach back into the depths of my brain for the memory of "reading sheet music".

Have fun freezing in Iowa... I'll try and stay dry here!

Slainte!

Call me whatever you wish.

Let it be known, I'm proud to be American tonight. A year of questioning the values of my home country... contemplating whether or not we, as a nation, deserve the power bestowed upon us, being so young and naive compared to most of the other nations on planet earth. All of this questioning was put to rest tonight as I observed from an Irish pub, the hope and inspiration that the election of Barack Obama as the 44th President brings not only to the U.S., but to the world.

America, although formed by unity has seen it's fair share of a divided people in the past. We've gone through a Civil War, an era of slavery and struggle over civil rights.. and still quibble over whether or not sexual orientation or religious belief qualifies as being granted equal rights as citizens of a free country.

Whether or not you think Obama is a qualified candidate, you can't deny the impact that this election has had. You might think that this guy spews naught but bullhockey straight from the speechwriter's mouth, but you've got to give him credit. Here's a guy that is 47, born the same year as my Dad... with little experience in running our nation. Agree or disagree, Obama's rise to the presidency has brought our nation together. Although you may say that I, like President Obama, am young and naive, I'm not going to deny what I saw today, and what I saw was over a million people marching in unity over what our great country has become in its short history. The media can't cover that up. Especially an un-American media outlet. That fact has got to stand for something.

Another thing... you can complain or praise all you want about President Bush... the guy kept us safe and free from attack for 7.5 years, and he deserves some gratitiude. I found myself raising a toast, standing and covering my heart to not only Fmr. President Bush, but all the people responsible for keeping this country safe including the soldiers regrettably fighting in Iraq and other locations worldwide, and the recently appointed staff that our newly elected leader will oversee.

What I'm basically getting at is, political beliefs aside... from my perspective, the world is proud of the U.S. tonight. Congratulations President Barack Hussein Obama... now get to work. I need a job after I graduate college. Don't lecture me on having my facts muddled or a "media-saturated", manipulated opinion. Like the rest of you, I'm making a decision based on the information that is presented to me. You making my decision for me would be morally presumptuous. Again, Congratulations President Obama, Ireland and the U.S. are expecting a lot out of you.

Laundry entry

Well, I walked to my friend's place to do some laundry today and experienced 3 seasons in about 5 minutes. I left my apartment at Dean's Hall and walked down the Quay in sunny, 40 degree weather... but by the time I'd gotten on the other side of the city centre it had rained, then hailed, then became sunny again upon my arrival at the apartment. Awesome.

This weekend I went to the Blarney Castle to enhance my eloquence. The weather was terrible, but the castle was quite the "beaut" and it was nice to see a little bit of the countryside, even if it was only for about a half hour. There's a possibility that I'll go on a couple weekend outings to Galway and Ring of Kerry, and there will be a lot of countryside/farms/cliffs.

Classes are going really well, my Traditional Irish music professor is taking me in and giving me tin whistle lessons once a week, so hopefully within a couple weeks I'll be able to sit in on a couple pub sessions. I went to one at a pub called the "An Spailpin Fanach", where there were about a dozen violinists, a few Irish flute players and a couple guys rocking the box accordions. I'm really regretting not bringing my guitar along and am strongly considering laying down a couple quid for a a cheaper one while I'm here. My other classes are Anglo/Irish Literature, Consumer Behaviour, History of the Media in Ireland and the Archaeology of Celtic and Medieval Ireland.

In the meantime, everything's going well. The running terrain here is a little more grueling... I can either run along the River Lee and stay in the lower ground or head North or South at a heavy incline. Working out with the ISU ROTC last semester really paid off. I'm also going to try out the Rugby club at UCC to stay in shape throughout the semester.

So I don't have to upload a lot of pictures on here, I've created a Shutterfly account that I will upload my pictures for everyone to see. I'll link that up at another time because with my infinite procrastinating skills I haven't managed to actually upload any yet. Have a good one!

Slainte!

So THIS is the Irish weather they were talking about...

Well, I've been here for what... almost 2 weeks now with not more than an "intense mist", and all of a sudden, boom. Oh well, I'm not dealing with a bi-polar Iowa winter for the next two months, so I'll knock off the complaining. So far, the rain here is very soothing, and if it were not for my modest packing and lack of dry clothes, I'd walk around in it all day. Ireland has to be the only country in the world where you can be staring at a palm tree while seeing your breath at night.

I've got a lot to cover in this post, but won't get that into it. Yes, the Irish pub culture is huge here, what you read/heard is true. They can drink a lot. Yes, the scenery is beautiful, and yes, there are cathedrals everywhere. The streets are small, the cars are small (but fast), and Cork, although gargantuan compared to Ames, is small. The pints are great, the food's alright, but the people and the atmosphere are unbelievable.

After spending around 24 hours (with the time-jump) in the air or in airport terminals, Garrett and I flew into Cork about 3 hours before the New Year arrived. Of course, the airline forgot to give us our bags so we took our carry-on, called a cab and hit the pubs within an hour. The pints of Guinness here have confirmed to me that there probably is a God. After going around to a few different bars and striking up conversation with a few Irishmen, we decided to end the night in a smaller, cozier pub. Little did we know that by midnight we'd be swaying back and forth with a circle of people old enough to be our parents, pretending we knew the words to Auld Lang Syne. Everyone in the entire place exchanged hugs, handshakes, and friendly conversation for a while after the clocked tolled midnight. It was like getting hit by speeding train, only if the train was a horde of polite, generous Irish people. Garrett and I, overwhelmed by jetlag and "the craic", knew that we were going to have the time of our lives over the next semester.

Before going out for New Years, I was dropped off at my flat by a taxi that we had taken from the airport. I seriously think that the Imagineers at Disney World should throw together some sort of ride for this experience on the Ireland stop at Epcot. The guy who drove us had to have been going at least 60, weaving in and out around cars, jetting around corners and accelerating downhill. I was in the back holding on for life, due to the fact that the driver was on the wrong side of the road/wrong side of the car. Just another new experience. Anyways, there were some (very attractive, about 9/10 are) girls outside in the parking lot that walked me to reception where I met my security warden, who let me in and informed me that my place is located right across from the City Centre (pubs, shopping etc) and that I could "fall" home on New Years Eve if I wanted.

Well, that covers about my first day here... already getting "into it" too much with the descriptions. I'll write more later tonight, but for now I'm off to learn about Traditional Irish Music.

Slainte!