“Rag”: A Cloth, A Taunt, A…Drinking Week?

Shenanigans.  Absolute shenanigans.  That is the only way to describe the Irish University phenomenon that is “Rag Week.” 

A little background:

Rag Week is celebrated at EVERY big university in Ireland: Trinity College, University College Dublin, NUIG, GMIT, University College Cork, etc….  In the Victorian Era students took time away from studying to collect rags to clothe the poor and destitute.  It then evolved into the more modern sense of the word, “to rag,” like pester…so students would pester others for money.  Finally, currently Rag technically stands for “Raise And Give” and it is supposed to be a week for students in university to band together and raise money for a good cause. 

However…don’t be thinking this means that the average Irish student is totally concerned with charities for a week.  No no, let’s not be naïve.  I know the parents and grandparents want to think that their darling sons and daughters are do-gooders out to save the word, well….not so much. 

Rag Week is an excuse to drink, nothing more, nothing less.  Don’t get me wrong the week DOES raise money for good causes; NUIG’s 2009 Rag Week raised €32,000 for good causes like Galway Rape Crisis Centre, CD's Helping Hands, L'Arche and the Belarusian Orphanage Project.  However, after last year’s shenanigans the university pulled support from Rag Week after 40 students were arrested.  This year the university attempted to re-brand the charity week by calling it “College Week,” but I don’t know who they were kidding.  There were still 37 arrests.

Now you’re probably wondering why were there so many arrests?  Kids were partying, what’s new about that?  I’ll tell you what I saw during Rag Week.  Drinking began at 8am on Monday morning, and NO ONE went to class all week.  My 100-person lecture was reduced to 10 visiting American students.  I unfortunately had two assignments due during this week, so I wasn’t able to really participate except for one evening. 

So, drinking began early and continued ALL DAY LONG.  At my apartment complex people were playing drinking games, getting into brawls, and screaming at the top of their lungs on the lawn in the middle of the complex from about 10am until 2am.  Kids got so drunk that they threw their televisions out of their windows!  One of the student accommodation complexes, called Gort na Coiribe, was so ridiculous that students even started a bonfire!  Hundreds of students burned COUCHES and other articles of furniture in all out drunken revelry. 

My own participation in Rag Week was minimal, but totally fun.  On Wednesday I went to my classes, and then at 2pm hit the college bar with some friends.  After relaxing for a bit we went into the auditorium called Bailey Allen Hall where a bunch of bounce houses were set up!  There was a bounce house that was black and had glow-in-the-dark stuff, one of those bungee cord races (where the two people race to see how far they can stick the Velcro piece as they get pulled backwards by bungee cords), and a mechanical bull!  After that we headed back to my apartment (there were 5 of us: me, Kelsey, Tara, Annie, and Caitlin).  We got ready and got festive until we headed out to meet our friends at one of our favorite pubs, the Quays.  The evening that followed was one of dulled shenanigans: I Irish step-danced through the streets with my Irish friend Laura, and jammed out to a great live band!

Every other night of Rag Week I was working on my assignments.  One night as I sat in the library quietly being studious, a group of 7-10 girls decked out in club wear ran up, down, and around the library drunkenly screaming “Woohoo Rag Week Yeeeaahhhhh!”  Another day as I sat in class with all 5 of us there, three guys poked their heads in to yell “RAG WEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!”  Let’s just say I wasn’t the happiest camper in the forest. 

I’ll be interested to see how this tradition holds up though, because the Head of NUIG has called for the cancellation of “College Week” in the future, saying that a larger problem of alcoholism needs to be addressed within the university community.  So…I may have been a part of NUIG’s last Rag Week.  I have to agree with the head however I would argue that the problem of alcoholism isn’t confined to the college community, and probably isn’t going to be combated just through the cancellation of the week.  In all likelihood this is just going to spur student protest.  All in all, I had a good time (if not a quintessential Irish Rag Week) but it did kind of freak me out, and I’m glad I don’t have to experience four of them. 

A Night Out during RAG Week
Left to Right: Caitlin, Me, Caitlin 

Don’t worry it gets a tad bit more upbeat… look for my next entry about my visit to the land of the “Quiet Man” and nuns!

Ireland Hopping

A Rainbow over Giants Causeway
on Antrim Coast in Northern Ireland

So I’m finally getting around to writing about my trip to Northern Ireland aka the OTHER Ireland.  For those of you who don’t know why Northern Ireland is so special, here’s a little background…

Ireland has a total of 32 counties on the island, 26 of the counties make up what is called the Republic of Ireland, which separated from the British Empire in 1921 to become the “Free State of Ireland,” but only became a proper republic and lost dominion status in 1949.  The other 6 counties of Ireland are still under British control, and as such are an entirely different country that is part of the United Kingdom.  So, when you cross from Co. Donegal into Co. Londonderry you are still in Ireland, however you are now in the UK. 

Alright, well back to my trip.  I went on this trip with about 60 other students from my university with the International Students Society.  It only cost 60 euro to go which included your bus fare, cool planned tours, and your hostels for the 2-night trip.  This was an EXCELLENT deal!  The itinerary was packed, and in just a short amount of time we went to both Belfast and Derry, two of the largest cities in Northern Ireland. 

Friday morning we had to be at university very early; we started off on the road at 7am.  So unfortunately that meant a 5:30 wakeup call for me, and a long, cold, and dark walk to the university with my friend Meg who lives in the next apartment complex over.  After our bit of exercise for the morning, we all piled onto the 2 buses waiting for us at the Quadrangle building.  The awesome thing about the buses?  They were called “Paddy Wagons,” were painted green, and had leprechauns on them!  It was a pretty great start to the day ☺.  Of course once we got on the bus, I was out like a light; but since it was still pretty dark most everyone else was too, so it was a quiet ride. 

My first view of Northern Ireland
from the Paddy Wagon

It takes 5 hours to get from Galway to Belfast, our first stop on the trip.  Right before we crossed the border into Northern Ireland our bus driver woke us all up, hopped on the mic and started telling us all about what we were seeing around us and what we should expect to see as we crossed the border.  Speaking of the border, it isn’t like any border I’ve ever seen, mostly because it truly isn’t one.  Now in the past the border between the Republic and Northern Ireland was a no man’s land, and only in the last 10 years have the garrisons come down since the peace between the two countries was established with the Belfast Agreement, but now the border is well…disappointing.  The only changes visible to the human eye are:
1.    The yellow dividing lines on the freeway (motorway, here) turn to white dividing lines
2.    Speed limit road signs use miles per hour instead of kilometers per hour
3.    Your cell phone automatically switches to “roaming”
4.    The houses have a generally much more English, Tudor-style look than the Irish cottage look.

A Statue of William of Orange in Belfast

As we were approaching Belfast the bus driver proceeded to bore everyone on the bus…except me.  Yup, he gave a little history lesson!  As we were driving our driver pointed out the River Boyne.  Now, the River Boyne is an incredibly important place in both English and Irish history.  For those of you history buffs, you probably already recognize it from the Battle of Boyne, and for those of you who don’t…never fear a history lesson is here!  Well, in 1690 a standoff occurred in Ireland.  England had a Catholic king on her throne, and let’s just say they weren’t too pleased.  The Protestant country rebelled against King James II and chose another man, William of Orange (the husband of James II’s daughter Mary) to rule in his stead.  Quite naturally King James II wasn’t too pleased to have his inheritance taken from him, so he escaped to Ireland where he hoped to raise an army and win back his throne.  It was here that the decisive victory was won in William of Orange’s favor.  William fought with 36,000 troops, while King James only had 25,000.  Only a couple of hundred men died, but in the face of peril, King James fled the field and William won the day.  It was as a result of this victory that England remained a Protestant country.

As most of my friends snoozed through that story, I on the other hand was enthralled.  I can’t believe I actually saw the place where William of Orange won his throne;  yeah yeah laugh all you want, we’ve already established many times over that I’m a nerd. 

Anyways, once we got into Belfast, the entire group of us checked into our hostel, and boy was it a dump!  I was traveling with a group of 3 other girlfriends and then a larger group of acquaintances, all of us adding up to 11 people.  This would’ve been perfect if we’d only had 10 and could take up one room all of us together, but since we 11 we had to split up.  So the 4 of us girls ended up in an 18-person room.  Please allow your mind to wrap itself around that statement.  I slept in a room with 17 other people; I think my mother probably got claustrophobic just thinking about it.  Oh the trials of a poor college student!  After throwing our stuff down and freshening up, we all headed out to go explore Belfast before we reconvened at 3pm for a bus tour.  So, off we went to find a good place to eat. 

After a quick bite to eat a diner, we decided to go explore the famous nearby Cathedral.  This Cathedral is called Queen Anne’s Cathedral, and it’s a cathedral of the Church of Ireland (a Protestant church…as I’ll explain later there really aren’t many Catholic churches in Northern Ireland).  The cathedral is beautiful; it is made of stone quarried from all 32 counties in Ireland, and at one point in time Pavarotti used to practice there.  We walked through the building, reading the placards along the way, and one in particular caught my eye.  A very interesting feature of the cathedral is that it has an immense spire that looks like a giant needle on top of the building.  This spire was erected on the 6-year anniversary of September 11th and was named the “Spire of Hope” in honor of the hope for peace throughout the world; quite a lovely sentiment, I thought.

After a bit of our own exploration we returned to the hostel so that we could hop on board a double-decker open-air tour bus!  Woohoo!  Now, this was a pretty long tour and we saw a LOT, so I’m going to try to not bore you with the specific details on every single monument we saw but just give a few interesting facts and put some pictures.

Harland and Wolff Crane

We started our journey heading across the River Lagan onto the bank opposite the main city.  As we drove I found out that Belfast has its own ice hockey team called the Belfast Giants, and that the River Lagan is so clean that salmon have actually returned to it (yes, those are 2 random facts).  But the cool thing that we were heading too was not a salmon fishing spot or a hockey game, but the shipyard where the Titanic was built!  Now, not saying that the city should be particularly proud of their feat of engineering… I mean we are talking about one of the largest modern catastrophes this world has seen (1,517 people died, many of them Irishmen and women seeking a new home in the United States).  BUT it was pretty cool to see the shipyard where the Harland and Wolff Company built the famous ship.  The giant cranes that put the RMS Titanic together are still standing there, and they even have names—Samson and Goliath.  Locals also say that the “H & W” painted on the cranes really stands for “Hello & Welcome.”  Belfast is so dedicated to remembering the great ship that they are even in the process of building a museum designed to resemble points of the ship.

The Albert Clock

From there we saw another historical monument of interest to me, the Albert Clock.  Now believe me when I say that everything, I mean EVERYTHING in Northern Ireland is named after Queen Victoria.  It makes sense as Victoria was Britain’s longest reigning monarch with her reign of 63 years (although Queen Elizabeth II seems to be making a run for this title since she will celebrate 60 years of rule in 2012).  But the Albert Clock seems to be something where finally the city decided to switch it up.  The Albert Clock is named in honor of Queen Victoria’s beloved husband, Prince Consort Albert.  The clock is interesting because it very obviously leans when you look at it, which is actually a result of having been built on marshy Belfast land, but our bus driver told us a popular joke giving another explanation: “That clock used to be in what would be considered the red light district and ladies of the night used to lean on the left side, causing it to tilt.”

A Unionist Mural in Support of the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF)

Now the best part of the tour was when we left the monuments behind and saw the part of Belfast that most everyone has heard of.  Once we crossed over to this part of the city, it was like looking at a mix between a still scarred war zone and the ghetto of South Central Los Angeles.  This is where the bloodshed between the Republicans and Unionists of the city occurred only 10+ years ago.  The Republicans in Northern Ireland are not the conservative political party that Americans associate with that name; no these are the people living in Northern Ireland who quite literally want their country to be a part of the Republic of Ireland.  The Unionists, contrastingly, want to remain a part of the United Kingdom.  Historically there is also a bit of a religious tie with these political points of views as well, Catholics are generally Republicans (as the Republic of Ireland is mostly Catholic), and Protestants are generally Unionists (as the UK/Britain is a historically Protestant country).  These two groups fought for many years in Northern Ireland, and the bloodshed tore families apart much in the same way as the American Civil War. 

A Republican Mural Honoring IRA member Bobby Sands who Died while on Hunger Strike

 This was when we went to the part of the city where you still see that conflict; there are murals EVERYWHERE.  Men dressed all in black with machine guns in their hands cover the walls in the murals of the Unionists, telling the world they will fight to keep Belfast British.  While two buildings down a gaunt and saintly face stares at you mournfully in the murals of the Republicans, telling you that he will lay down his life in order to bring Belfast into the Republic.  It is like something out of a movie, you cannot fathom it until you see it.

My favorite art on the Peace Wall

After the Belfast Agreement (also known as the Good Friday Agreement), the city of Belfast decided that it needed to heal the gaping wounds left after the conflict.  Now, the city was once divided, Protestants from Catholics and Unionists from Republicans, by large cement walls.  Instead of tearing these walls down much in the spirit of the Berlin Wall, the government decided to have school children begin a project here.  This was the creation of the Belfast Peace Wall, kept up by nearby schools, colorful graffiti art spans 3 miles of wall in the city spreading the message of peace, hope, and understanding.  Some of the artwork is disturbing in its subject, while some is concise in its imagery, however the sheer impact of the road of colorful walls is almost overwhelming.  It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.  In fact, driving down the street went far too quickly for my taste, so the next morning my friend Meg and I woke up at 7:30am so that we could go walk the wall.  THAT was incredible; it was quiet with the morning sun just glimmering.  I definitely recommend if you are interested in seeing the Belfast Peace Wall, to go in a smaller group and simply walk alongside it, do not drive.  You simply will not be able to appreciate it. 

The Peace Wall

After our bus tour we were all free to do whatever we wished, so Meg, Cassie, Kelsey, Jason, and I all decided to go explore the Titanic shipyard a bit more and then get some dinner.  Now here’s where you can all laugh a bit at us.  Ok, so we’re in Ireland.  We’re even in NORTHERN Ireland, we should be trying new things, expanding our horizons, blah blah blah…  Yeah, well for dinner we all decided we were craving something fundamentally American.  We went to TGI Fridays.  That’s right, we were the quintessential American group eating at an American restaurant in Ireland of all places, but hey we were sick of pub food…and to be honest Ireland cuisine not so much cuisine as it is grub; don’t get me wrong I love fish and chips and a full Irish breakfast but I needed me some STEAK.  After a perfectly fulfilling meal we explored the big mall in the city a bit more, and it had this awesome viewing deck that you could climb up into and look out of the mall’s big glass dome.  The dome even lit up different colors, it was pretty cool.  Much fancier than most malls I’ve seen!  After dinner we all went to a pub called The Library for a bit where we saw a HUGE cat-fight/bar-fight that ended up with the cops being called after a girl got a little bit strangled, and we inadvertently signed ourselves up for some kind of talent show because we couldn’t understand the Northern Irish accent (it’s COMPLETELY different than the accents in the Republic).  

After a good night’s sleep (at least for me because I passed out after all of the walking and exploring) and exploring the Peace Wall with Meg the whole group of us trooped back onto the bus and headed off to the city with 2 names.  Known to Protestants/British as Londonderry, and the Catholics/Irish as Derry, it is another one of the largest cities in Northern Ireland.  On the way to the city we stopped off at the Carrick-A-Rede Rope Bridge.  This rope bridge was built by fishermen between the main coastline and a rocky island in order to drop nets for salmon.  Being afraid of heights it was definitely scary to walk across the bridge as it swayed in the wind!  But the views of the coast were fantastic! 

From the rope bridge we headed off to a natural wonder, Giants Causeway.  Giants Causeway is a HUGE rock/lava formation on the Antrim Coast that was formed through the cooling of basalt lava 50-60 million years ago.  However there are huge legends attached to it (I mean of course because it’s Ireland) and here they are:

Giants Causeway

In ancient times there was a young boy named Finn McCool.  When Finn was about 7 years old he went fishing for the Salmon of Wisdom (a fish that if eaten would give you the knowledge of the world) with a druid.  They caught the fish and then proceeded to cook the fish together, but then the druid had to go on an errand and left Finn telling him not to eat the fish without him.  Finn continued to cook the fish, turning it every once and while so it wouldn’t burn.  Suddenly Finn saw a huge bubble form under the skin of the fish, and the boy innocently used his finger to pop it, wanting to make sure that the fish cooked evenly.  Of course, when he touched the cooking fish he burned his finger, and like anyone would he immediately put his burned finger into his mouth.  In the exact moment when his finger touched his tongue, Finn McCool gained all the knowledge of the world.  He taught women to sew and cook, and me to hunt and provide for their families.  One day at 18 years old Finn looked across the sea and having the knowledge of world he knew that the woman he was going to marry was across the ocean in Caledonia (otherwise known as Scotland).  But how was he going to get across?  He decided to build a causeway to cross the 14-mile long stretch of water to Scotland.  Once across he met Eva and married her immediately, returning back across the causeway to Ireland.  However, a giant named Grant had wanted to marry Eva and he was incensed when Finn took her away.  So, he too uses the causeway to cross into Ireland.  Finn does not panic, however, he orders the women of his village to make baby clothes in his size, and the men to make a large cradle out of Irish Red Oak, and then tells them all to hide in the forests.  When Grant approaches the village looking for Finn McCool all he comes upon is a large baby in a cradle.  Grant, seeing the “baby,” runs in fear from Ireland exclaiming that if that was the size of their babies he didn’t want to see the grown men!  As Grant ran, Finn tore up the stones from his causeway and threw them so that no one could cross the causeway again.  And this is why the rocks stand as they do on the Antrim coast.

AND

Finn's Grandmother
(On the left of the hump)

Finn McCool had an elderly grandmother who loved Irish whisky and going to the pubs at night.  She would dance jigs, sing ancient Irish folk songs, and drink whiskey, coming back in the wee hours of the morning drunk.  Now this grandmother lived with Finn and his family, and when she came back in the early hours of the morning, she would always wake up the children.  Finally one day Finn had had enough of this behavior, and decided to speak to his grandmother.  He said to her, “Grandmother, you need to calm down.  Please stop going to the pubs and getting drunk.  Stay home and knit!”  So that is what she did, and for two weeks she stayed home and knitted.  When she couldn’t take the monotony anymore Finn’s grandmother finally went back to the pubs and got drunker than ever before.  When she returned home singing and jigging she, of course, woke everyone up.  Finn couldn’t take it anymore.  He chased his grandmother from his house onto the rocks and changed her into stone. And this is why when you look at one particular rock it looks like an old woman climbing the rocks. 
The moral of the story: “If you go to the pubs and drink too much Irish whiskey, you will get stoned.

After seeing this natural wonder of the world we headed off to Derry, where we got installed into our hostel with no problems, and this time our room was great!  It was just the four of us in a good sized room that even had a TV, while for most of you this sounds normal—just spend a couple of nights in a hostel and you will understand what it means to be super grateful!  That night we attempted to go out on the town, but Derry closes down at about 6pm, so instead of fighting the crowds of elderly gentlemen at the pubs we all decided to just get some dinner.  We found a great place where food was CHEAP and stuffed ourselves, before returning back to the hostel and passing out at about 11pm.

Fountain Estate

The next morning we got up early to go on a walking tour of Derry with our tour guide, Jason who was pretty evidently a Catholic.  Derry has been a major Catholic city since 1830s, but is divided by the river, East side is about 50/50 Protestant/Catholic, and the West die is the majority Catholic.  While we walked around the city these divisions were clear.  First we walked by the Fountain Estate, which is on the Protestant side of the city, loyal to the queen, with British flags waving on flag posts.  The British colors are even adorning the painted curbs.  This is in sharp contrast to Bogside.

Bogside and the Free Derry Wall

Derry was originally an island but the dam dried up leaving a bog land behind.  Now that area of land is called Bogside and it is where the Catholics of Derry live.  180 flag posts are in this area, all flying the orange, white, and green flag of the Irish Republic.  These flag posts stand in honor of those who died for the republic.  In Bogside also stands the “Free Derry Wall” which was painted on January 5, 1969 and was preserved to inspire the Irish to resist.  Republican murals also spatter the view of buildings.  Finally, we ended our tour at the Bloody Sunday Memorial in Bogside.  On January 30, 1972 forever known as Bloody Sunday (yes from the popular U2 song “Sunday Bloody Sunday”), the Northern Irish of Bogside organized an anti-internment march, and British soldiers opened fire upon the peaceful marchers.  14 people died, and there was an attempt to kill 4 more.  This event is still so present in the modern idea of Northern Ireland, that it was only recently that the British Prime Minister admitted that the act was unjustified.

We saw both of these sides of the city as we walked the famous Derry Walls; a 1.7 mile long wall that was built from 1613-1618 in order to protect the city.  The wall was incredible to walk around, with gorgeous views of the city.
 

W.B. Yeats' Grave in Sligo

 After the tour we all packed up on the Paddy Wagon and headed back to Galway with a quick stop off in Sligo (in the Republic of Ireland) to see Yeats’ grave.  It was wonderful to see the great Irish poet’s grave, and we even saw a field of sheep.  Jason even jumped the fence and tried to grab one, as I hurried away so I wasn’t associated with the shenanigans.  We all ate at a little café in Sligo, another county where my family is from.  My grandfather’s mother’s family, the Comaskeys, were from Sligo.  The city is built right on the water and seagulls fly through the streets.  Little boats are tied near the pubs, and bridges span the waterways.  Definitely one of the most picturesque cities that I’ve been to.  After our brief sojourn in Sligo, we hit the road for Galway, and two hours later I was home.  It’s funny how much like home Galway truly feels, in fact when we crossed the border from Northern Ireland back into the Republic, a group of us breathed a sigh of relief.  While Northern Ireland is gorgeous, it just isn’t really Ireland.  The Republic of Ireland really just seems to have grasped my heart. 

Coming Soon: Rag Week…you almost don’t want to know.

An Irish Horse Adventure!

The Irish Countryside on Horseback

I forgot to write in my Cork blog about my adventures the weekend before my trip to Cork, so I am adding just a short post.  The weekend before last I stayed in Galway, and decided that I really wanted to explore the city and surrounding area more.  So, on that Saturday a big group of my friends decided to go horseback riding at the Feeney’s Equestrian Centre about 20 minutes outside of Galway city. 

We all met at our friend’s apartment in Galway City Centre and then grabbed a couple of cabs out to the countryside.  I truly had no idea how close the countryside was!  It was like instead of walking straight to my apartment, you just took one turn and suddenly all you could see for miles and miles were grassy hills, cattle and sheep, and rows of crumbling stone walls. 

Me and Pearl

Once we got to Feeney’s Equestrian Centre we were all paired with a horse.  I got a really old horse named Pearl, and boy was she a beauty!  She even had 2 different color eyes, one blue and one brown.  The one problem with Pearl?  She was OLD...about the same age as me, which is getting up there for a horse.  I had to really push her to keep up with pack, but hey I didn’t blame her for being a bit cranky…I certainly wouldn’t have been pleased if someone was riding on MY back!  Pearl and I bonded for sure ☺.  We rode up the gravel street outside of the horse farm after doing a few turns around the ring and headed up the road to a beautiful view for a group picture, but then we really got into the ride.  Our young leaders (they were probably all of about 12 or 13) led us through bramble and brush, up and down hills, through mud (Pearl did everything in her power to avoid the mud...let me tell you.  She even hit my leg against a tree branch leaving a massive bruise in her efforts to avoid the gunk!), and essentially all through the Irish countryside.  Boy, was it beautiful.

All of Us Equestirans
From Left to Right: Jaime, Caitlin, Logan, Katrina, Cassie, Annie, Nicole, Sally, Me, and Jason

Now it was a chilly day that day…ok slight understatement it was freezing and drizzly but I’ve learned in Ireland that unless the wind is knocking you over then the day is fair to middling (plus it never hurts to look at the silver lining of the rain cloud ☺).   Anyways, so since it was so cold the horseback ride did get challenging at times especially since our hands were turning red and blue with the cold!  I did feel a bit worse for the younger kids who were leading some of the newer riders’ horses…they had to climb and jump through massive puddles and slip through mud all in that cold!  So, finally despite the beauty of the surroundings we did get a bit tired of being chilly and we all headed back to the farm where those who wanted to gallop were allowed to try some jumps (I really wanted to, but BOY was Pearl stubborn…she was not having it.).  All in all though, it was a GREAT experience and one I would definitely recommend for anyone wanting to see the true glory of the Irish countryside.

Now, Saturday was a tough day to beat, I mean horseback riding was amazing.  Sunday though, my roommate Maria and I decided to further our Galwegian adventures by venturing out more into the city.  So, we went to mass at Galway Cathedral, which is an amazing stone cathedral building right across the street from my university.  After the ceremony we wandered into the city and attempted to go to the Nora Barnacle house (the house of Yeats’ wife when he proposed to her) but it was closed for the winter season.  So then we tried to look at the castle that is in the city…but it was turned into a bank and you can’t really go into it.  So finally, we appeased ourselves by going for a pizza lunch at a cute little buy-by-the-slice joint, and then checking out Charlie Byrne’s secondhand bookstore.  This bookstore is the way all bookstores should be.  You can buy fabulous reading material, even textbooks for class for amazing prices like 10 euro!  I even bought some books published in the late 1800s and early 1900s (I bought 2 old detective novels one written in 1880 and the other in the 1920s) for literally only 2 or 3 euro!  This is definitely some place that if I allowed myself, I would go EVERY DAY…yeah if you can’t tell I nerded out a bit. 

Alright, I’ll take a break from posting and stop bothering you all for a bit.  I just HAD to write about this when I realized that I had forgotten!

Cork: The Land of my Fathers

The Finnigans are from Cork

Before I left home to come to Ireland, my grandfather gave me one of his old guidebooks from when he and my grandmother visited Ireland.  He also told me a little bit about Irish history, and our own family’s heritage.  For one thing he told me that the Finnigans (his father’s side) were from Cork, and the Comiskys (his mother’s side) were from Sligo.  Well, this past weekend I had the opportunity to explore the county of my ancestors when I went with a group of friends for an overnight trip in Cork. 

We left Galway Saturday morning on a 10:30am bus headed for Cork.  After a week of somewhat questionable weather (it had been pretty cloudy) it was an absolutely gorgeous day!  The Irish countryside seemed to gleam green through the bus windows…well that is until I passed out about half an hour into the bus ride.  I dozed on and off for the entire 3 ½ hour bus ride from Galway to Cork.  At one point when I woke up I heard a couple of the girls doing a “psychoanalysis exercise” where one girl asked the other some questions that the other had to answer quickly without thinking about it.  I decided to join in, and here were my answers.

1. You are walking through a forest and run into an angry Grizzly Bear, what do you do?
   I run away! 
2. After you see the Grizzly Bear you are walking through the forest and you happen upon a key on the ground, what does this key look like?  Give a description.
   It’s small and old-fashioned. 
3. Suddenly you come to a clearing and you see a cottage.  You enter the cottage, what does it look like inside?
   It’s welcoming and comfortable.  
4. Right next to the cottage is a beach.  What does the ocean look like?
   It’s a calm day, with very few waves.

Now #1 apparently stands for how you react to conflict, #2 for your ego, #3 for how people see you, and #4 for your love life.  All in all this was relatively accurate for me.  I do have the tendency to run from conflict in order to avoid it, and my ego/self-confidence is relatively small.  Usually people do seem to think I’m welcoming, and it’s a calm day at my love life beach!  All in all this was kind of a funny activity, especially when some people’s were so spot on.  One girl said that she would curl up in a fetal position if she saw the bear, and she definitely tries to hide from conflict!

Cork!

Anyways, we got into Cork City Centre at about 2pm.  Immediately after arriving we all marveled that Cork looked so different from Galway, and even from Dublin.  It is a much more modern looking city, appearing almost European, however with the massive hills and brightly colored houses it looked almost like San Francisco to me!  We got off the bus at St. Patrick’s Quay and walked only about 3 blocks until we got to the Killarney House hostel where we would be staying.  The 8 of us were put into a 10 person with the promise that 2 random people would be stuck in later that day, however they never showed up, so we didn’t have any awkward sleeping arrangements.  This hostel was pretty nice, our room had its own bathroom that was clean, so already it was a step up from the hostel we stayed at in Paris, and free breakfast was served from 7-9:30am. 

After checking in and dropping off our stuff our group pow-wowed about what we really wanted to do while in Cork.  The two things that everyone had really locked into were visiting Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone, and going to Fota Wildlife Park.  At first it was kind of unclear whether or not both were going to be possible, as with our late arrival we worried that we wouldn’t be able to be admitted to either place on Saturday afternoon.  However, after a quick survey of the bus schedule to Blarney we realized we could get there in plenty of time.  So, the 8 of us walked down the street where our hostel was and hurried to get a quick bite to eat before our bus ride to Blarney.  As we walked down the street the bells from the nearby cathedral began to ring…suddenly I realized that the bells were playing the tune of “Three Blind Mice!”  After grabbing a quick bite from a hole in the wall fast-food joint, we walked down and crossed the river to get to City Centre, and the bus station. 

A quick 10 minute bus ride later, we were in the small town of Blarney.  It was green EVERYWHERE, and from the bus stop you could see Blarney Castle in the distance.  Now I can’t quite describe to you the beauty of Blarney Castle’s grounds.  The castle itself is impressive, that is for sure; there is a reason that it is Ireland’s most photographed spot.  First of all, there is no guided tour through this castle.  No, you get to climb around for yourself.  Go through every passage that you want, climb through secret passages, and into the dungeon (I did!).  The staircases are winding, steep, and narrow, but everytime you peek out of one of the slit windows your breath is taken away by the vastness of the rolling hills and the lush trees.  After exploring the banquet hall, the chapel, the numerous bed rooms, and many other old rooms, we finally climbed to the top of the castle.  The view was spectacular.  You could see the Irish countryside for miles around you, with colorful dots of houses far off in the distance, and the flora of the region lush and green.  Then we noticed an old man kneeling at the wall of the tower…he was the helper put there to ensure that tourists who want to kiss the Blarney Stone don’t fall to their deaths.

Kissing the Blarney Stone

For those of you who don’t know, the Blarney Stone is a famous tourist attraction in Ireland that holds a mythical place in Irish folklore.  It is said that if you kiss the Blarney Stone you will be given the “gift of gab,” in other words you’ll become more eloquent.  Now, no one of ever told me that kissing the Blarney Stone was going to be half a work out, and half a terrifying feat.  You can’t just bend over and kiss the stone, no you have to grasp two metal bars and bend backwards with the assistance of a trained helper in order to kiss the Blarney Stone safely.  This helper didn’t rush his job, no no.  He flirted with every single girl that went up to kiss the stone, which let’s face it, mostly girls went to kiss it.  Man he was enjoying himself!

Climbing the Wishing Stairs

Well after having the gift of gab bestowed upon me (although looking back on past blog entries I wonder if the Stone could actually do much?), we set out to explore the castle grounds more, and wow they could stand alone as one of the most amazing places to visit.  We walked through what truly seemed to be an enchanted forest; it just seemed to be magical…like something you’d see in a Disney film about fairies!  I swear Tinkerbell was about to pop out of nowhere!  Here we came upon what are known as the “Wishing Stairs.”  You are supposed to walk up the stairs, and then down the stairs backwards thinking only of your wish.  If you do this then your wish is supposed to be granted within the year.  Most of us decided to do it, and boy it was a tad bit scary going down stairs backwards!  If you want to know what my wish was, sorry.. it’s bad luck to share a wish!  I’ll let you know when it gets granted though. ☺

St. Finn Barre's Cathedral

After thoroughly roaming Blarney, we all headed back to Cork where we all agreed that we were starving and ready for dinner!  Now, one strange thing about Cork that again reminds me of San Francisco, is that there are Asian restaurants EVERYWHERE!  Now, one thing that Ireland is lacking is some legitimate Chinese food, and we were all kind of craving it, so we went and at a place called The Golden Chopsticks.  Not bad at all, now they didn’t have my beloved potstickers, but their Mandarin Beef wasn’t half bad!  After eating ourselves silly we all went back to the hostel to get ready for a night out in the “Dance Capital of Ireland.”  To cut a long story short though, one girl didn’t get into the club that night because she didn’t have her Passport with her and she doesn’t have a Garda ID Card (Irish government registration card) because she has dual citizenship, so a bunch of us went back with her to enjoy late night milkshakes at Eddie Rockets instead.  I hadn’t been that excited to go out, so for me it was kind of the perfect ending to a fun day!

Sunday morning one of the other girls, Meg, and I got up and went to 8am Mass at a nearby Catholic church, the Church of the Ascension.  Now we had no idea this service would be so short, but I guess since it’s all pretty much old people at this time the priest cut out the music from Mass, so it was all done in half an hour.  After that we roamed the streets of City Centre until everyone else was up at about 10.  We saw the famous St. Fin Barre's Anglican Cathedral, and found a pub called "Sober Lane" that had rock paper scissor tournaments!  Then we all packed up our stuff from the hostel and went to the railroad station that would take us to Fota.

All of us at Fota Wildlife Park
From Left to Right: Hannah, Katrina, Logan, Jaime, Sally, Me, Cassie, Meg

Petting a Kangaroo!

Now, to clear up any confusion… Fota is not a zoo.  No, I did not go to Cork to go to a zoo.  Fota is a wildlife park, and yes there IS a difference.  At Fota many of the animals are roaming free in very large spaces, and they can interact with visitors.  For instance the monkeys and birds are all pretty free to roam; even the kangaroos can hop where they wish!  Now, the cheetahs and giraffes are still separated, and the zebras have an electric fence keeping them in, but still the experience is very different.  At Fota I saw everything from the mundane duck to a red panda (I hadn’t even heard of this animal before), and capybara (the world’s largest rodent).  It was somewhere that honestly both adults and children would love…I absolutely loved it, and I could see my 7 year old sister being in complete awe.  The highlight of the day: I PET A KANGAROO!  That’s right.. I actually pet a kangaroo..in Ireland!  The kangaroos were just hopping around eating food from the grass, and I just let one sniff my hand (much as you would a dog) and then it let me pet it.  It was such a cool experience!

After going to Fota there wasn’t much time to continue exploring Cork before our 6pm bus back to Galway (and we really couldn’t miss the bus because it was the last of the evening).  So we headed back to the city and divided into 2 groups for dinner.  One group really wanted to go to Thai food, while my group didn’t want Asian food again.  So Meg, Cassie, and I grabbed our bags from the hostel’s luggage room and headed off in search of dinner.  We found Gambienis, a small Italian restaurant, and we gorged ourself on pizza and pasta.  I had a Spicy Meat Pizza with jalepenos on it…it was not only delicious, but it was also the first legitimately spicy thing I’ve eaten in Ireland (the Irish don’t really know REAL spicy food).  After dinner we hustled back to St. Patrick’s Quay and hopped on our bus.  I was all prepared for a nice nap, when the girl behind me began to talk.  Loudly.  And she didn’t stop for the ENTIRE trip home….oi vey.  Oh well, I managed to drift off for a few minutes at a time!

It was really fun to explore Ireland more instead of just going off to mainland Europe.  Stay on the look out for more Ireland adventures, because this coming weekend I’m off to Northern Ireland!

Extra-Curriculars are Extra Fun!

When I came to Ireland and started my studies at the National University of Ireland in Galway I knew that I didn’t want to simply go to class and then travel abroad.  I wanted to create a home for myself at the university just as I did when I began my time at USC.  So I made a point of signing up for any club (or “society” as they call it here) that I found interesting, and I found three: Choral Society, International Student Society, and SIN the Student Newspaper.  Well I haven’t found inspiration to write an opinion piece for the newspaper (they really want me to write a piece about Ireland or the university from the point of view of an American), so I haven’t truly gotten involved with that group.  But in a week I’m heading off on a discounted trip to Northern Ireland with the International Student Society, and I attend rehearsal for Choral Society each week.

Choral Society is going so well partly because I became even more involved with the group by becoming Vice-Secretary.  Now I don’t have a whole lot of responsibility, basically I just take notes when the Secretary can’t be there, and I’m the photocopier, but the benefit of being on the Executive Committee is that I’ve had the opportunity to get to know some of the other singers better.  Wow what a great group!  The society is really filled with friendly and funny people!  I’ve really enjoyed getting to know them, and we even have a night out on the town every other week after Tuesday night rehearsal.  We go to a local pub and eat free food, relax, and get to know each other.  I’ve also gone to a concert at the campus bar with some of them, and it’s definitely a good way to get to know other students, not just international American students!  We rehearse every Tuesday evening from 6-8pm, and thus far we’ve learned 3 songs with 2 more in the works.  Thus far we are singing “Joshua Fit De Battle of Jericho,” a Swedish lullaby called “Vargsangen” translated to “The Wolf Song,” and the popular Beetles song “With a Little Help from my Friends” (I have a solo in this one!).  Last week we even performed them!  It was Múscailt, a week-long festival on campus celebrating the arts (both visual and performance), so we did almost what American students would call a “dorm storm” where we went to 5 popular places on campus and just started singing.  It was pretty successful, although not as many people showed up to sing as we would’ve liked, but hey it WAS in the middle of the day!   Two weeks ago the choir was also recorded singing “Vargsangen” so here’s the link if you’d like to hear our talent:

http://dl.dropbox.com/u/4539985/01%20Vargs%C3%A5ngen.mp3

Although I wouldn’t necessarily classify my work at the local Homework Club as “extra-curricular” since it is partly for a class, I still thought I’d give a quick update.  Last week and this week were fabulous.  Last week I worked with the same little girl named Cody that I’ve been working with for a while now, and another little boy named Kuku (pronounced like Cuckoo).  We had a lot of fun getting their homework done, while they asked me if I lived next door to Hannah Montana and other famous Americans that they assumed I was best friends with!  At one point Kuku wanted help with his Irish homework, when he learned that I didn’t know any Irish he and Cody were appalled and Kuku suddenly declared, “Well if I have to do my homework, you have to too” and he made me a worksheet of my own.   He copied down Irish words that he thought I should know and told me to copy them a few times, and then he made me memorize what they meant.  For instance, “bia” is “food” and “fia” is “deer.”  That day when I left, Cody ran up to me and said “Caitlin, I don’t want to leave you!”  I promised that I would see her every Tuesday, and she smiled made me pinky swear.  This week when I walked in Cody grinned and stood up saying, “Caitlin, over here!”  I walked over and before I had even sat down Cody began talking a mile minute, “Ok, so I have some news.  Last week I went to my aunts.  I played with my cousin and we went swimming.  He accidently punched me, but I know he didn’t mean to etc…”  After about 5 minutes of nonstop chatter she turned to me and sweetly asked “So what about you?  Do you have any news?”  Suddenly she was like my little sister, and it made my heart ache a bit.  Cody is an only child in a low-income household, and its clear that she craves attention and approval.  I only hope that I can help to provide a bit of that for her while I’m here.

Apart from my volunteer work and my involvement in societies, I have also rediscovered a lost love of mine from childhood.  For those of you who don’t know, I Irish danced competitively when I was younger, from about Kindergarten until third grade when we moved to Northern California from Pasadena.  I LOVED Irish dance, and I wasn’t too bad at it.  Now, this wasn’t the last time I danced.  In fact, when my high school had us do a senior project where we could do anything from a research project to creating a piece of art I decided to relearn Irish dance.  I went back to class with 7 year olds and rediscovered my love of the art form.  However, once my project was done and I graduated I again put up my soft shoes.  So, when I came to Ireland I figured what better time to start dancing again!  So, now I am taking a beginner’s class on Thursday nights from 6-7pm (it’s fairly easy but I’m not quite ready for the intermediate level as I never learned my hard shoes).  After my first class I also decided to ask the instructor if she would give private lessons, so now I’m taking private lessons on Thursday afternoons.  My teacher’s name is Gillian, and she’s a 22-year-old med student at NUIG.  This in and of itself is pretty impressive, but not only is she a full-time med student while teaching Irish dance on the side, she is an amazing dancer in her own right and is a member of the dance group that popularized Irish dance and made it world-famous, Riverdance.  In fact, she had to cancel my lesson for this week because she is in the Middle East traveling with Riverdance.  Thus far I’ve already learned 3 dances, and we are working hard to FINALLY get me into hard shoes for the first time.  I’m completely enjoying this.  Below is a video of Gillian doing one of the dances she’s teaching me (I recorded her doing it so that I could practice while she is gone and ensure that I wouldn’t forget anything).

Well, I’ll be writing again soon, but this is just a small update about how extra-curricular life is going!

Passport to Paris

REMINDER: IF YOU CLICK ON ANY OF MY PICTURES THEY WILL OPEN LARGER IN A NEW WINDOW.

At the Ponte Alexandre w/ Eiffel Tower
From Left to Right: Caitlin, Me, Nicole, Cassie

Ok, so those of you who look at my Facebook at all have probably already seen the literally hundreds of pictures I recently posted of my weekend trip to Paris.  I had no idea how trigger happy I was with a camera; I took over 200 photos during my brief 3-day trip!  Anyways, this trip was not just a great tourist experience but a great moment of personal growth for me.  So here we go!

Now some of you readers who grew up in the 90s, or have children born in the 90s might recognize the title of this blog as the title of a popular Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen film.  Well when I was a “tween” I LOVED Mary Kate & Ashley (I mean I’m pretty sure I played pretend games where I was their long lost triplet), and I’ve seen this film about a billion times.  I even have favorite quotes from it that I’ve posted on Facebook, the best being: “Do you like your school?” “When the rain comes I am sad.”  So when packing for my own Paris trip, I decided what better way to get in the mood for a Parisian adventure then to turn on “Passport to Paris”?  It DEFINITELY got me into the mood to have some good old-fashioned tourist-y fun!

I went to Paris with a group of 12 people (all Americans and many from USC), but we were split up into two groups staying at different hostels.  As a result, there wasn’t really much overlap between the two groups, so I really only hung out with the girls that I stayed with (Cassie from Chicago, my roommate Caitlin, and Nicole from USC) and two of the guys from USC there, Jason and Kyle.  The large group had every intention of spending time together however, so when we were all arranging travel plans we booked the same flights and bus to Dublin Airport.  We booked an extremely early flight (at 6:35am) on Friday, February 4th.  The bus trip from Galway City Centre to Dublin Airport take about 2 hours 45 minutes to 3 hours flat, so we all decided to take a 1:15am bus to the airport.  As a result all 12 of us gathered at a couple of the girls’ apartment in the middle of city centre to relax and hang out that evening before walking to the Coach Station (Coach = Bus) at 12:30am.

Now of course as soon as my butt hit the bus seat, I was out like a light.  The airport was easy enough to navigate and getting through security was a quick enough process.  So soon enough we made it to our gate and had time to kill.  We all were starving at this point having most of us skipped dinner, so we scattered grabbing whatever food we could find.  Now being poor college students we all booked the cheapest flight available which was on an airline called Ryan Air.  The tickets only cost about 20€, but there’s a reason they’re so cheap!  You are only allowed 1 bag, no personal item.  Any more than that and you get charged up the wazoo.  There are also no seat assignments, it’s basically a mad rush to board the plane and pick the seats you want.  Oh!  And there really isn’t a true walkway to the airplane, no no Ryan Air does it old school.  You actually have to walk out into the freezing cold and climb the stairs to the plane!  It was ok though because it felt kind of like we were in an old black and white film, glamourously ascending the steps into our waiting plane (forget the fact that we all looked groggy and disheveled from lack of sleep and a long bus trip). 

After a quick hour and a half plane ride we landed at Paris Beauvais Airport!  I felt like I had blinked and we’d arrived, because of course as per usual I was asleep before the plane’s wheels had even left the ground!  At the airport our groups separated.  Nicole, Cassie, Caitlin, and I went off to fend for ourselves and determine a way into the city (this aiport is about an hour outside of the city) while the others had a private shuttle waiting to pick them up and take them to their hotel.  We quickly found the queue for the coach into the city, and bought a return ticket for our flight home, hurrying into the long line.  I do have to say this was well-organized, and we didn’t have to wait at all for a bus, which was spectacular.  After again napping on the bus, I awoke to a view of the Eiffel Tower as we pulled into Paris.  Wow…this was just the first out of many times I thought over the course of the weekend how amazing it must be to wake up and actually live in Paris.  You just wake up and look out your window…there’s the Eiffel Tower.  

Well, when our tired feet hit the ground in Paris the adventure truly began!  Now, perhaps we should’ve done a bit more pre-planning but the only information we had about where we were staying was its address that Nicole had taken a picture of with her pretty bad camera phone, and the name of the hostel “Young and Happy Hostel”.  After using my somewhat broken French to ask the bus driver where the Metro was, he pointed us in the general direction of the Metro’s entrance at Porte Maillot.  After descending into the depths of Paris’ metro the confusion started.  The ticket machine was broken, but before we could buy a ticket we needed to know what Metro line we should even get on and what stop to get off at!  So we wandered around the walkways in the Metro, a little bit nervously and probably more than a little bit crankily at least on my part (I know, I know, but I get cranky without my sleep!).  There happened to be a shopping center connected to the Metro station so we started wandering through there, where we finally found a janitor who through a combination of my broken French and his broken English we managed to get quasi-clear directions, and he even called our hostel for us!  At which point we knew we were going to be going on Line 7 but were unclear as to which stop to get off at. So we decided to wing it!  This all took about an hour and a half.  Then we went further into the Metro where we found an Information booth and clarified with them that we had to ride the Line 1 and then change at the Palais Royal stop and then switch to the Line 7 and get off at Place Monge.  

The Farmer's Market

Well, all that was easy enough once we got going.  I found that I was really remembering my French and I was easily able to read the signs around the Metro to find the necessary stops and such.  Soon enough we were climbing out of the depths of Paris’ underground network back into the daylight at Place Monge, and we didn’t just climb out onto a city street…no!  We walked out right into the middle of a farmer’s market!  And as we walked around in a bit of awe, an Asian grocer greeted us singing “Mademoiselles!  Mademoiselles!  Welcome!  Welcome!”  It was definitely the most unique welcome committee I think any of us had ever seen!  After asking one more person for clarifying directions we found our way to our hostel on Rue du Mouffetard, and realized that the Young and Happy Hostel was smack dab in the middle of the Latin Quarter of Paris, quite a fun and busy neighborhood! 

Well after finding our hostel and checking in we were informed that we wouldn’t be let into our room until 4:30 so we decided to go explore.  The four of us walked next door to a crepe restaurant and enjoyed a real Parisian meal, two of the girls getting Nutella and banana crepes while the other two of us satisfied ourselves with savory cheese and ham crepes (crepe du jambon fromage).  After enjoying our quick lunch I grabbed the map I had gotten from our hostel and figured out which Metro line to take in order to get us to the Louvre to do some exploring.  We got off at the Palais Royal Metro stop and wandered around.  We saw a statue of Charles de Gaulle, the famous French general who led the French Free Forces during WWII and we wandered past the Palais Royal and crossed the famous Pont Alexandre, the most sumptuous of all Parisian bridges.  

The "Triumphal Battery"

Now, I will admit, we got lost right about this time.  Or rather, I just didn’t know where to go from here, so we simply kept walking straight until we stumbled upon the Hôtel des Invalides which houses the Musée de l'Armée or the Military Museum.  Now, none of us want to go into the military (although Cassie does want to be a cop), nor do any of us really have a huge passion for military history so none of us really wanted to spend the money to partake in the museum’s exhibits.  However, we did walk around the exterior of the grounds and the inner courtyard, which was free, and not only was the architecture incredible, but the actual military aspects were fascinating.  For instance, the building had stone statues of armor around the entirety of the façade, and at the front of the museum there was a collection of “triumphal battery” or cannons from former French enemies.  This collection even had a Chinese cannon!

The Merry-Go-Round

After our brief immersion into French military culture, I once again assumed the position of tour guide and grabbed my handy dandy map (I really should’ve started singing the Dora Explorer Map Song in Paris because I used this thing until it fell apart!).  This time we walked towards the Louvre.  Again, none of us were particularly anxious to submerge ourselves in art, so we stayed in the park.  However, before entering the park we saw a large Ferris Wheel and a lot of tourist gift tents, one of them being a candy store.  Now I have a massive sweet tooth and immediately wanted to try strange French candy, so I bought a big bag and we all chewed strange gummies, and pulled apart a long neon turquoise candy rope that had a soft filling.  I think the sugar may have triggered something in our brains and we all immediately went into child mode, because the next thing I knew we had found the famous Louvre merry go round in the park and had paid for a ride.  I think the operator was so amused by our antics that he just gave us a free extra ride! 

At Dinner
Left to Right: Nicole, Me, Caitlin

After such high energy antics we decided we were all still pretty knackered from our trip and we decided to head back to our hostel, where the other girls napped while I read.  We also met our roommates (we were in a 6 person room, so were sharing it with 2 Brazilian boys...slightly awkward, but they were really sweet).  After our rest time we were starving and ventured across the street to a cute little café for what we assumed would be a quick dinner. Silly us!  I forgot that French people take FOREVER to eat!  We were literally there for 2 hours!!  But the food was fantastic; I had piece de boeuf avec sauce poivre and crème brulee for dessert.  Basically, I just had beef with a pepper sauce and a vanilla cream custard dessert.  This was definitely a confidence booster though, because I ordered everyone’s meals in French and was the one who conversed with the waitress. Although there was one awkward moment when Caitlin attempted to order her crème brulee and I guess our American accents saying it just completely confused our poor waitress and even after repeating ourselves 5 times she still didn’t understand us!

After our leisurely meal we headed back to the hostel to change and get ready for a night out on the town.  Here we met up with our roommates and some of their Brazilian friends and we all decided to go to a local bar called Cap Rouge.  However once we got there we realized how exhausted we all truly were, and the language barrier while manageable during the day is absolutely impossible at night in a club scene.  Now, my French was MUCH better than I had expected, and I could understand most things people said to me, but when it was said to me in a slurred manner…now that was a whole other story!  So the four of us decided to call it an early night and go hit the hay!

The next morning we woke up for our free breakfast at the hostel and then hurried to the Metro station to meet the two boys at the Palais Royal Metro stop.  But…as seems to be the case with men, they were late, so we waited in the station for a while.  But when they finally did show up we jumped on the train they were on and we all headed for the Place Denfert-Rochereau stop; we were going to the Paris Catacombs! 

Time for some background.  The Paris Catacombs is a huge underground burial site underneath the city of Paris that is home to the remains of about 6 MILLION PEOPLE.  Now the bones aren’t just tossed into some hole in the ground, the catacombs are the result of moving massive amounts of bones from Paris’ many underground cemeteries (it was common practice for the French to bury their dead in this fashion) into old and unused mine tunnels.  The result is that tourists can now descend 84 stairs into the old mines and wander a confusing spiraled circuit of tunnels until reaching the main network of Catacomb Tunnels.

The bones are taller than me!

When we entered the Catacombs from the plain mining tunnels there was a carved sign above the entrance reading “"Arrête, c'est ici l'empire de la Mort" ('Stop, this is the empire of Death').  Definitely a fitting quote and it pretty much hushed us all up.  This sight was just too incredible to put into words.  The bones aren’t just thrown into heaps, they are beautifully aligned in order to make walls that can reach past your head.  Arm and leg bones are stacked together and skulls are scattered throughout.  Now obviously this haunting beauty is also quite creepy.  I mean some of these skulls even have teeth!  So, the boys were definitely enjoying scaring all of the girls and there were plenty of echoing squeals through the tunnels as Jason and Kyle proceeded to jump out at all the wrong moments!

After scaring ourselves silly in the underground tunnels, we stopped off at an Italian restaurant where I once again ordered for most people in French and earned my nickname, “Mom”.  Everyone decided to dub me Mom because I was leading everyone everywhere, ordering for people, speaking to everyone in French, and just generally taking charge.  Now, not that I really want to have a group of 5 20 and 21 year olds as my children, but it was kind of sweet that they all trusted me so much (good thing I knew what I was doing!).  Others also got their nicknames that day during lunch; Cassie was given the nickname Snooki, as in the reality television star from MTV’s Jersey Shore because she sports a “pouf”.  Nicole was named “hood rat” and “Casper” because she is really pale and perhaps the least intimidating or “gangster” person there is.  Kyle was nicknamed Bigalo from Deuce Bigalo the Male Gigalo movie because he is so popular with the ladies here, and finally Jason was nicknamed Cheesyberg because he always tells such cheesy jokes and his last name is EllenBERG.  Caitlin sadly left Paris without a nickname, because we didn’t want to force one and nothing seemed to fit.

After a delicious lunch of veal saltimbocca and pasta, the boys insisted that we walk all the way to the Arc de Triomphe from the Catacombs, because it would be more fun than taking the Metro.  Now, we all did really enjoy ourselves at first, but this walk ended up being basically an hour and a half almost 2 hour walk and over 4 miles…kind of excessive.  The boys did entertain us though by jumping over sidewalk barriers and suddenly darting into the street to cross.  In fact, Jason and Caitlin decided to sprint across an entire roundabout instead of using the crosswalk and Caitlin ran so fast that when she reached the other sidewalk her foot slipped on a piece of wet cardboard and she ate it right in front of a crowded café…definitely one of the funnier moments of the day!

Paris Louis Vuitton Storefront
2005

Paris Louis Vuitton Storefront
2011

We walked a LONG ways when we finally got to the Avenue des Champs-Élysées where all of the fashionable shopping and such is.  The last time I was in Paris back when I was a freshman in high school (6 years ago) Louis Vuitton was just building a large store there, and had made it look like one giant suitcase.  Now I got to see the actual store!  On our way to the Arch we saw a group of street performing dancers who got shut down by the police as soon as they were about to start dancing..that was kind of a bummer!  But they were funny!  We walked up the long street to the Arch where we relaxed for a bit and just looked at it (I wanted to climb to the top but no one else would go), until we all decided to take a break at a nearby café.  We sat and snacked for a bit until it got dark and we decided to put our big plan into action.

Arc de Triomphe
Left to Right: Caitlin, Cassie, Nicole, Jason, Kyle, Me

From Left to Right:
Caitlin, Cassie, Nicole, Me,
Jason, Kyle

We all had this fabulous idea for Saturday night in Paris.  We would make a picnic lunch out of fresh bread, charcuterie meats and cheeses, get some wine and just sit out in front of the Eiffel Tower.  Well we couldn’t find markets open at that hour, so instead we went to the wine store and bought some cheap €2 wine and a bottle of champagne, and then went to a nearby crepe cart.  There people bought paninis, crepes, and hotdogs for their meals.  I had a hotdog but instead of a gross old bun they put it in a fresh baguette!  Mm…delicious!  Then for dessert I got a beignet (basically a French donut filled with chocolate).  And then we all sat out on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower just eating, relaxing, and laughing for about an hour or two.  This was hands-down the most memorable part of my trip.  It was so relaxed and we all just got to enjoy eachother’s company without having to sit a restaurant table and struggle with French or deal with loud tables nearby.  Instead we got to sit there and marvel at one of man’s greatest accomplishments.  And, as if it wasn’t perfect enough…the Eiffel Tower actually suddenly twinkled with hundreds of little blue lights on top of the plane glow that I’ve always seen in photographs.  It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen, pretty up there with the Cliffs of Moher.  I added a video of it so you can see what it looked like!

After eating we all decided to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower because I mean how could we not?  Now all of us were ready for this, but my roommate Caitlin is petrified of heights.  I am as well, but it almost helped me to have her fear so prominent because I got to worry about helping her instead of thinking of my own fear!  There were definitely some tricky moments for her, and we had to help her do some deep breathing, but with some coaching and pep talks, she made it to the top!  Definitely a triumph in my book!

Notre Dame Cathedral

Saturday’s nightlife was pretty much a bust after the Eiffel Tower, although we did try to hit some clubs or bars.  We went to Cap Rouge again and attempted to dance in the underground Discotheque, but it was too hot!  The camera even fogged up there was so much sweat in the air!  The boys were also distressed by the lack of girls, so they wanted to leave. 

Now Sunday was the most personally rewarding day for me.  In the morning the four of us got up at about 11am.  Nicole and I bought crepes for breakfast at the stand next door and I devoured my chocolate banana crepe!  Caitlin and Cassie wanted something a little different, so we leisurely walked over to the farmer’s market near the Metro station.  They bought some fruit and marble cake, while I bought fresh French bread and the creamiest brie I have ever tasted!  Then we all hopped on the metro to go to Notre Dame Cathedral for 12:45 mass.  Now, I’m not a baptized Catholic, but the rest of the girls were, and I myself have a historical interest in the church, while simultaneously finding mass an incredibly centering experience.  So, I witnessed mass in probably the single most gorgeous Cathedral that there is.  It was wonderful, but the best part?  I actually understood most of it, even though it was in French!  When all of the other girls were receiving Communion though, I snuck away and toured the rest of the building, joining the throngs of mostly Asian tourists cheerfully snapping photos of the priests distributing the host (yeah…they didn’t like that…). 

Gates of Versailles

After Mass, I had a defining moment of my trip.  One of the main sights I really wanted to see while in Paris was the Chateau de Versailles, the extravagant palace built by the so-called Sun King Louis XIV.  Now, the other group of people we had come with to Paris had forgotten that I wanted to go to Versailles and had gone the day before without telling me, and no one in my group wanted to make the trek out to Versailles, particularly to pay the entrance fee.  At first I began to resign myself to just stay with the group and go to the art museums, but then I realized something.  Why did I have to stick with the group?  I REALLY wanted to do this, and heck I’m the one that knows French!  So, I decided to go to Versailles alone.  So I hopped on the Metro and rode one stop over to the main station at Châtelet and then bought a railroad ticket to ride the RER out to Versailles.  I navigated my way through the crowded Metro staying very aware of my surroundings and asking any questions that I had in French.  And only an hour and a half later, I was in Versailles.  The immense pride that I felt when that train chugged up to the Versailles station is something that I don’t think that I can adequately portray through words. 

The Fascinating Door!

When I got to the Versailles station, all I had to do was follow the crowds over to the Chateau and I was set!  And a happy surprise awaited me at the gilded gold gates of Versailles; because it was the first Sunday of the month, entrance to any Parisian museum was free, and this extended to Versailles!  So I happily roamed the hallways and rooms of my historical fantasies for free.  I later told my friends that I just completely “nerded out” at Versailles.  I didn’t bother with the Audio Tour that would’ve led me through each individual painting in a room.  That didn’t interest me.  I just wanted to breathe the air, see the beds, walk the Hall of Mirrors, roam the gardens that Louis XIV, Marie Antoinette, and all of the people I have studied for years once inhabited.  Perhaps the climax of my historical heaven was when I walked through the Queen’s apartments, and I noticed an ajar door to the left of the bed.  Now most people were focused on the extravagant trappings of the room, but the door is what instantly captivated me.  This is the door through which Marie Antoinette escaped to her husband’s apartments from the Parisian mob’s grasp during the 1789 bread shortage riot.  I can’t believe I actually saw that, and that I had such an opportunity.

A View of Palace from Gardens

After walking through the Chateau to my heart’s content I headed towards the gardens and I walked through that huge expanse of land.  I even walked through the orange grove, where I stopped to eat my makeshift lunch of my previously purchased bread and brie in between sculptured busts of Alexander the Great and Apollo.  It was here that I thought about the sheer beauty of the day.  The solitude was something new to me, usually I am someone always in a group; I don’t like to be alone.  But it was here that I came to an important realization.  Very few times in our lives are we honestly ever just focused on ourselves.  It’s not often that you get to relinquish responsibility or simply concern for others.  When you do have that opportunity it should not be wasted, it should be cherished. 

My Moral of the Day:
Sometimes you have to wander from the group to find your own happiness.

Watching the Super Bowl in Paris
From Left to Right: Jason, Nicole, Me

After all of my quiet contemplation I left Versailles and rejoined my friends at our hostel where we got dinner and hung out for a while before Caitlin and Cassie headed off to bed for the evening.  We had an early flight the next morning at 9:30am, so we had arranged to take a 6:30am bus.  Now, the Super Bowl was Sunday evening so Nicole, Jason, and I decided that instead of going to sleep for a few hours, we would go watch the big game!  So, we took a cab over to where some of our friends were supposed to be watching the game, but there was a huge entrance fee, so instead we wandered around until we came upon the Polly Magoo bar right near Notre Dame Cathedral.  There was a HUGE projector screen set up with the game playing, drinks and food were inexpensive, and it was free to get in.  It was also EMPTY with only a few groups.  The Americans were definitely hitting up more of the widely well-known American bars, but that suited us just fine.  So we relaxed and watched the Packers win (heck yeah! Take that Steelers!!! No dynasty for you!) before walking back to the hostel where Nicole grabbed a quick 45 mintues of shut-eye and I just packed up my stuff and began the process of getting us ready to go.

From here all that was left was a very chaotic trip back to Ireland.  I don’t want to sound like a Debbie Downer, nor do I want to spend too much time dwelling on the travel aspect of the trip but to summarize:
1.    Our taxi was late picking us up from our hostel.
2.    The buses had no organization to get on, people just mobbed them and as a result we didn’t get on the one we were supposed to.
3.    The line to get our Visa stamp at the airport was around the entire lobby area and the automatic door wouldn’t close, blowing us with cold air.
4.    The security line took forever.
5.    Our flight was supposed to board at 8:55, and we didn’t board until 9:45.

But hey, we made it home all in one peace and with a new life experience in our back pockets, so no matter what the trouble I think it evened out in the end!

 
 





À Bientôt!
Translation: See you soon!