Monday, June 28, 2010
3:30 p.m.
After breakfast this morning, I set out to a place called the Coffee Station. When I passed it a few days ago, I saw a sign advertising free wireless but didn't have my computer or phone on me to test it out. Since today marked my last free day of the long weekend, I figured it would be an appropriate time to check the place out. I have been here for a week and have only had two (maybe three) coffees. It's not that I don't want the energy burst, I just haven't felt the need for it. That's a big change from my usual coffee a day. For some reason I was craving one this morning. The walk was a short quarter-mile or so up the road, but I walked fast because for the first time since I've been here, it was raining. Out of all things to forget on my trip, one was an umbrella. Luckily I have a decent raincoat. I had almost made it there when a big truck drove into a puddle next to me, spraying water up and soaking the right side of my pants. Usually this would have bothered me, but I just shrugged it off and thought hey, I'm in Ireland, I'm going to get wet.
The menu had a large amount of options, but I decided on a nonfat latte. Skim milk has been a hard thing to find here since most markets only offer full-fat and light milk. I was very happy to have the skim option. They even offered soy milk. The young man behind the register told me he would deliver the coffee to my seat (a change from your usual Starbucks)! While I was waiting on my latte, I turned on my laptop and was soon able to connect to wireless for the first time. Two bonuses already to my day: skim milk and wireless! As I sat on a high stool at the bar, sipping my coffee and surfing the Internet, I was finally able to upload some pictures. After a couple hours had passed, I started to feel guilty about using the free wireless for so long while only ordering a coffee. So, I went back to the register and ordered a veggie sandwich with olive-balsamic dressing on a poppy seed bagel. It was quite tasty. By the time I finished my sandwich it had stopped raining and I headed home. I look forward to visiting the Coffee Station again.
6.28.2010
Heyyy Yawlll
Sunday, June 27, 2010
6:00 p.m.
6:00 p.m.
Kelly, Eryn and I took a day trip of our own to Youghal (pronounced “Yawl”) today. We took our time getting ready since we didn’t want to pass up an opportunity of sleeping in so we didn’t catch the bus into Youghal until 11:40. We saw something we hadn’t seen since we’ve been here when we approached the end of our 50-minute ride: the ocean! Well technically, it was the Celtic Sea. We decided to explore Youghal because of its reputation as a beautiful coastal town; we heard it had a scenic beach and a similar quaintness to the town of Cobh. Since I loved Cobh so much, it wasn’t hard to make the decision to travel to Youghal. We got off at the stop nearest the beach so we could walk on the sand before walking into town. My expectations of this city were not only met, they were exceeded.
Anticipation built as we approached the beach. After getting off the bus, we could see the water in the distance, but a large, stone barrier was blocking our view of the entire beach. When we were close enough to the barrier, I peeked over to see flat, glistening tan sand and pure, blue water. To the right, there were families taking walks up and down the sand, a young boy building sandcastles and climbing on rocks when his father wasn’t looking, dogs roaming free, even a few girls playing in the water. To the left, there were rocks, piles of seashells, boulders and caves. 
The girls and I decided to explore the left side of the beach since it seemed more adventurous. When we rounded the corner, a vast green hill came into sight. High at the top we saw herds of cattle and homes that appeared as tiny specs. There was a small, white lighthouse near the top of the road and stairs that seemed to lead to it. After climbing those intensely steep stairs, we were surprised to find a piece of wood blocking us from getting to the road. I thought I could climb my way over so I removed my backpack, tugged my way up a rocky ledge, and jumped over the wooden barrier to the other side. Kelly and Eryn decided not to take the jump but instead take the longer way around. So, I had one of them throw me my backpack and then waited for them.
We weren’t sure how long the walk into the main town would take. I heard some say it was a mile, some say it was closer to two miles. Either way, we made our way toward town and arrived in around 20-25 minutes. By that time, we were starving. We stopped at a small restaurant connected to a hotel. They were advertising breakfast served all day however I decided on the fish and chips. Commonly, most fish and chips come with peas. When my peas came out, they looked like a watery pile of green mush. And that’s exactly what they tasted like. As a pea fan, I was pretty disappointed with the side dish. I have to say that was my first disappointment when it comes to food. Eryn and I splurged on a dessert after our meals, splitting an Irish doughnut. The doughnut was a pastry shaped exactly like a hot dog. The breaded part split open to feature cream and a strawberry lining down the middle. It tasted just as good as it looked.
With our meals finished, we walked down the narrow streets of the town. 
Many shops were closed because it was Sunday yet I wasn’t disappointed. I was happier just to take in the stunning views around me. I was surprised to find that the water was as blue, if not bluer, than the ocean water back home on the east coast. We spent a few hours walking downtown before deciding to catch the bus back to Cork. While waiting at the bus stop, a black dog peeped his head under a fence across the street. I couldn’t resist the photo-op so I went over to take a picture of him. It was a short day trip, but it was certainly worth it. Who would have thought that I’d be experiencing warm, sunny beaches while in Ireland? I would go back in a heartbeat.
6.27.2010
Left instead of right
Saturday, June 26, 2010
2:00 p.m.
Each day I sit at my desk, staring out my window overlooking the street below, wondering where the narrow road wrapping along the metal fence up ahead leads to. I have seen multiple exercisers take this road along with the occasional car or two. Maybe the road parallels a river, maybe the road ends at a neighborhood, maybe the road goes nowhere. Wherever it may go, it is my turn to wrap around the metal rails and find out.
When I approach this road, I soon realize that it ends shortly. I am then presented with two possible paths. Do I cross the bridge in front of me or take the path to my left? I choose left. I am alone but I am at peace with being alone. The large river that parallels me reminds me of my family’s river house on the Shenandoah back home; however I am not homesick. I am alone, but at ease.
The trees I pass were alone.
These trees catch my attention more than the slowly, flowing river, more than the birds screeching above me, more than the people passing by, more than the man attempting to talk on his cell phone while riding his bike, more than the dogs walking off their leashes, even more than the abundant greenness in the distance that I am still getting used to. Before the birds, the people, the dogs and the paved pathway, these trees stood alone. I know this because of the largely, twisted roots and the trunks I can only fit one-third of my arms around. When the strong wind kicks in with its soft, howling hum, the intertwined branches of leaves begin to sway. It’s as if they are waving hello to me. It’s as if they know I am thinking of them. I imagine how, if Cork wasn’t so overwhelmed with commercialism now, they would be in a more peaceful state of solitude, similar to me.
As I observe the beauties of these trees, I forget to stay on my allotted side of the path. Because the Irish drive their cars on the left side of the road, people are supposed to pass each other on the left side as well. Go figure. Maybe the trees got a laugh out of my flawed since of direction. Just maybe.
2:00 p.m.
Each day I sit at my desk, staring out my window overlooking the street below, wondering where the narrow road wrapping along the metal fence up ahead leads to. I have seen multiple exercisers take this road along with the occasional car or two. Maybe the road parallels a river, maybe the road ends at a neighborhood, maybe the road goes nowhere. Wherever it may go, it is my turn to wrap around the metal rails and find out.
When I approach this road, I soon realize that it ends shortly. I am then presented with two possible paths. Do I cross the bridge in front of me or take the path to my left? I choose left. I am alone but I am at peace with being alone. The large river that parallels me reminds me of my family’s river house on the Shenandoah back home; however I am not homesick. I am alone, but at ease.
The trees I pass were alone.
These trees catch my attention more than the slowly, flowing river, more than the birds screeching above me, more than the people passing by, more than the man attempting to talk on his cell phone while riding his bike, more than the dogs walking off their leashes, even more than the abundant greenness in the distance that I am still getting used to. Before the birds, the people, the dogs and the paved pathway, these trees stood alone. I know this because of the largely, twisted roots and the trunks I can only fit one-third of my arms around. When the strong wind kicks in with its soft, howling hum, the intertwined branches of leaves begin to sway. It’s as if they are waving hello to me. It’s as if they know I am thinking of them. I imagine how, if Cork wasn’t so overwhelmed with commercialism now, they would be in a more peaceful state of solitude, similar to me.As I observe the beauties of these trees, I forget to stay on my allotted side of the path. Because the Irish drive their cars on the left side of the road, people are supposed to pass each other on the left side as well. Go figure. Maybe the trees got a laugh out of my flawed since of direction. Just maybe.
6.26.2010
Kissing Blarney
Friday, June 25, 2010
6:00 p.m.
The gift of eloquence is now bestowed upon me, according to the legend of kissing the Blarney Stone in return for the gift of gab (or skill of flattery), dating back to the 1400s. Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet, because I feel no different from when I woke up this morning...
Earlier today I traveled on a bumpy, unsteady bus ride, trekked up a narrow, 100-step climb, and dangled upside down at the top of a restored, 600-year-old castle all to kiss the infamous Blarney Stone. Fortunately for me I don’t struggle with motion sickness, claustrophobia or a fear of heights because if I did, my venture most likely would not have happened.
The ride to get to Blarney was rocky, yes, and sometimes overpowered by the smell of horse manure (not so pleasant), but I was able to catch a glimpse of the Irish countryside I hadn’t been able to focus on yet. After exiting the main highway from Cork and merging onto a smaller road, the land filled up with brown horses, large spotted cows and every possible shade of green. The horizon wasn’t full of compacted homes or large buildings. Instead there were small, white farmhouses and vast open fields for animals to roam.
Although there were many things to do at Blarney Castle, like taking a walking tour around the premises while exploring different caves, graveyards and gardens, I had my heart set on climbing the castle and kissing the stone at the top.
Approaching the line for the castle was like approaching a line for a ride at an amusement park. From the actual entrance to the castle, the line wrapped around a corner and farther down the hill. I heard someone say that a tourist group from a cruise ship was visiting and that the wait to get to the top would be at least an hour. I decided to be as patient as possible (something I find extremely challenging) and stick out the long wait.
Well, patience paid off. Once I reached the entrance of the castle, the wait seemed much more bearable than before. What was left of the castle’s interior was both eerie and captivating at the same time. Each room was labeled for what it once was: the kitchen, the family room, the ladies’ room, the earl’s room, the priest’s room, the banqueting hall, the murder hole, etc. As I made my way up the 100 coiled steps, I was able to stop and take a look at the preservation of each room. The kitchen had an outline of a fire pit where families once roasted entire pigs; the bedrooms for the women were significantly smaller than those for the men; the murder hole was a confined space where residents of the castle would throw rocks and hot liquids down to intruders. As I inched closer to the top, the spiral staircase became narrower and much more restricted. It was no lighthouse climb that’s for sure. I had to hold onto a thick rope to pull myself up to the last step and onto the roof of the castle. Once at the top, the single file line continued around corners and crevasses and I was able to take a full 360 look around me. The castle’s height is an estimated 13 stories so once at the top, I could spot part of my group members crossing a bridge below, one of my professors observing one of the gardens, and miles upon miles of Ireland’s landscape. I was probably looking at the city of Cork in the distance without even knowing it. My turn to kiss the Blarney Stone soon arrived. I handed my camera to a friend, sat down at the mat on the ledge of the roof, leaned backwards while the guide held onto my waist, grabbed a hold of the iron railing and gave a big kiss to the cold but celebrated stone. Now that I have done so, I am said to have a gift of eloquence that will stick with me for the remainder of my life. Pretty "savage" eh?
6:00 p.m.
The gift of eloquence is now bestowed upon me, according to the legend of kissing the Blarney Stone in return for the gift of gab (or skill of flattery), dating back to the 1400s. Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet, because I feel no different from when I woke up this morning...
Earlier today I traveled on a bumpy, unsteady bus ride, trekked up a narrow, 100-step climb, and dangled upside down at the top of a restored, 600-year-old castle all to kiss the infamous Blarney Stone. Fortunately for me I don’t struggle with motion sickness, claustrophobia or a fear of heights because if I did, my venture most likely would not have happened.
The ride to get to Blarney was rocky, yes, and sometimes overpowered by the smell of horse manure (not so pleasant), but I was able to catch a glimpse of the Irish countryside I hadn’t been able to focus on yet. After exiting the main highway from Cork and merging onto a smaller road, the land filled up with brown horses, large spotted cows and every possible shade of green. The horizon wasn’t full of compacted homes or large buildings. Instead there were small, white farmhouses and vast open fields for animals to roam.
Although there were many things to do at Blarney Castle, like taking a walking tour around the premises while exploring different caves, graveyards and gardens, I had my heart set on climbing the castle and kissing the stone at the top.
Approaching the line for the castle was like approaching a line for a ride at an amusement park. From the actual entrance to the castle, the line wrapped around a corner and farther down the hill. I heard someone say that a tourist group from a cruise ship was visiting and that the wait to get to the top would be at least an hour. I decided to be as patient as possible (something I find extremely challenging) and stick out the long wait. Well, patience paid off. Once I reached the entrance of the castle, the wait seemed much more bearable than before. What was left of the castle’s interior was both eerie and captivating at the same time. Each room was labeled for what it once was: the kitchen, the family room, the ladies’ room, the earl’s room, the priest’s room, the banqueting hall, the murder hole, etc. As I made my way up the 100 coiled steps, I was able to stop and take a look at the preservation of each room. The kitchen had an outline of a fire pit where families once roasted entire pigs; the bedrooms for the women were significantly smaller than those for the men; the murder hole was a confined space where residents of the castle would throw rocks and hot liquids down to intruders. As I inched closer to the top, the spiral staircase became narrower and much more restricted. It was no lighthouse climb that’s for sure. I had to hold onto a thick rope to pull myself up to the last step and onto the roof of the castle. Once at the top, the single file line continued around corners and crevasses and I was able to take a full 360 look around me. The castle’s height is an estimated 13 stories so once at the top, I could spot part of my group members crossing a bridge below, one of my professors observing one of the gardens, and miles upon miles of Ireland’s landscape. I was probably looking at the city of Cork in the distance without even knowing it. My turn to kiss the Blarney Stone soon arrived. I handed my camera to a friend, sat down at the mat on the ledge of the roof, leaned backwards while the guide held onto my waist, grabbed a hold of the iron railing and gave a big kiss to the cold but celebrated stone. Now that I have done so, I am said to have a gift of eloquence that will stick with me for the remainder of my life. Pretty "savage" eh?
6.24.2010
Exploring downtown Cork
Thursday, June 24, 2010
3:00 p.m.
After class this morning I went downtown for the second day in a row. While I didn't spend nearly as much time in the city as I did yesterday, the trip was much more successful. Three girls came along with me but since we are all starting to feel more comfortable wandering the streets on our own, we pretty much did our own thing. I had planned to make lunch back at the apartment to save money but since I decided last minute to go downtown, I ended up grabbing a bite at a small bagel shop called L.A. Bagels on Oliver Plunkett Street. I ordered a tuna salad sandwich on a sesame seed bagel and was very pleased with my order. I have been craving a bagel since I arrived here and finally got one! One thing different about the tuna salad in Ireland is that it always comes with corn mixed into it. Seems strange, but it is actually very tasty.
While walking downtown I was reminded of one thing a professor pointed out to us on our first day in Cork: the English Market.
Yesterday I was so busy trying to find new, cute clothes – which after several hours I didn’t find one thing I liked – that I forgot about the market. The market, located between Grand Parade, Princes and St. Patrick's Street, is a huge, enclosed space that houses different stalls including poultry, seafood, pork, cheese, pasta, vegetables, coffee and pastry shops, chocolate shops, wine stores and more. It immediately reminded me of my mom and her love for farmer’s markets. (Multiply your basic farmer’s market at home times five and that’s what you would see here!) Some of the stalls were disturbing for me to even look at; butcher stations sold every part of the animal imaginable, including whole heads of the pig. Some of the exotic poultry stands sold crocodile steaks, kangaroo fillets and ostrich fillets. 
Although I was a little bothered by all the displays of raw meat, many of the stalls were much more pleasing to look at, overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables, large blocks of cheese, organic grains and salads, glistening pastries, and delicate chocolate truffles. The market was such a unique experience. I could’ve spent the entire day there.
After the market, I decided to browse a small gift shop after my eye was immediately drawn to a green and navy rugby polo in the front window of the store. Fortunately for me, the one I wanted fit and I ended up making my first purchase that didn’t involve food or drinks. Next to the gift shop was a small boutique that featured a bargain rack right when you walked in. I looked through the clothes quickly and a sequined tank top caught my eye again. It was only 10 euro’s so I couldn’t resist! I didn’t feel like shopping for much longer so I separated from the girls and caught a bus home. I’m becoming quite comfortable with the bus system here now so I had no problem waiting for it alone. Funny thing – while waiting for the bus to take me home from downtown, an Irish woman approached me and asked if the number 3 bus had come by yet. Surprisingly I knew the answer to her question and told her that she still had a few minutes to wait for it. “Great!” she said back to me. “I actually won’t be missing my bus today.” It was a strange thing being the one answering a local’s question as opposed to me asking them.
3:00 p.m.
After class this morning I went downtown for the second day in a row. While I didn't spend nearly as much time in the city as I did yesterday, the trip was much more successful. Three girls came along with me but since we are all starting to feel more comfortable wandering the streets on our own, we pretty much did our own thing. I had planned to make lunch back at the apartment to save money but since I decided last minute to go downtown, I ended up grabbing a bite at a small bagel shop called L.A. Bagels on Oliver Plunkett Street. I ordered a tuna salad sandwich on a sesame seed bagel and was very pleased with my order. I have been craving a bagel since I arrived here and finally got one! One thing different about the tuna salad in Ireland is that it always comes with corn mixed into it. Seems strange, but it is actually very tasty.
While walking downtown I was reminded of one thing a professor pointed out to us on our first day in Cork: the English Market.
Yesterday I was so busy trying to find new, cute clothes – which after several hours I didn’t find one thing I liked – that I forgot about the market. The market, located between Grand Parade, Princes and St. Patrick's Street, is a huge, enclosed space that houses different stalls including poultry, seafood, pork, cheese, pasta, vegetables, coffee and pastry shops, chocolate shops, wine stores and more. It immediately reminded me of my mom and her love for farmer’s markets. (Multiply your basic farmer’s market at home times five and that’s what you would see here!) Some of the stalls were disturbing for me to even look at; butcher stations sold every part of the animal imaginable, including whole heads of the pig. Some of the exotic poultry stands sold crocodile steaks, kangaroo fillets and ostrich fillets. 
Although I was a little bothered by all the displays of raw meat, many of the stalls were much more pleasing to look at, overflowing with fresh fruits and vegetables, large blocks of cheese, organic grains and salads, glistening pastries, and delicate chocolate truffles. The market was such a unique experience. I could’ve spent the entire day there.After the market, I decided to browse a small gift shop after my eye was immediately drawn to a green and navy rugby polo in the front window of the store. Fortunately for me, the one I wanted fit and I ended up making my first purchase that didn’t involve food or drinks. Next to the gift shop was a small boutique that featured a bargain rack right when you walked in. I looked through the clothes quickly and a sequined tank top caught my eye again. It was only 10 euro’s so I couldn’t resist! I didn’t feel like shopping for much longer so I separated from the girls and caught a bus home. I’m becoming quite comfortable with the bus system here now so I had no problem waiting for it alone. Funny thing – while waiting for the bus to take me home from downtown, an Irish woman approached me and asked if the number 3 bus had come by yet. Surprisingly I knew the answer to her question and told her that she still had a few minutes to wait for it. “Great!” she said back to me. “I actually won’t be missing my bus today.” It was a strange thing being the one answering a local’s question as opposed to me asking them.
6.23.2010
Environmentally savvy
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
4:00 p.m.
One thing I have noticed over the past few days is how environmentally aware Ireland is. When I went shopping at the market for the first time, the cashier didn’t bag my groceries. Instead, he asked me if I wanted to pay an extra 22 euro cents for a plastic bag. He told me the reason they charge for bags is so people are forced to bring their own and so they don’t waste them. Makes plenty of sense to me since I already use reusable shopping bags when I’m at home. However I had to go ahead and pay the extra money because I just couldn’t carry all my groceries back without a bag. Another thing I’ve noticed is that the rooms don’t have ceiling fans and that many of the buses, trains and shops don’t have air conditioning. I have to open the windows for cooler air when seated on the bus and train. I also find myself warmer when I enter a store than when walking outside, which is such a strange concept for summer time. One more thing that puts Ireland ahead with the whole saving energy thing is that you have to turn on a switch in order for appliances to work. It took me a whole two days to figure out how to work the toaster in our kitchen! What I didn’t notice was the small switch (similar to a light switch) on the wall above it. In order to power the toaster (along with the oven, the lamps, etc.) you have to turn on a switch before turning the appliance on. I felt like a true blonde after finally figuring it out!
4:00 p.m.
One thing I have noticed over the past few days is how environmentally aware Ireland is. When I went shopping at the market for the first time, the cashier didn’t bag my groceries. Instead, he asked me if I wanted to pay an extra 22 euro cents for a plastic bag. He told me the reason they charge for bags is so people are forced to bring their own and so they don’t waste them. Makes plenty of sense to me since I already use reusable shopping bags when I’m at home. However I had to go ahead and pay the extra money because I just couldn’t carry all my groceries back without a bag. Another thing I’ve noticed is that the rooms don’t have ceiling fans and that many of the buses, trains and shops don’t have air conditioning. I have to open the windows for cooler air when seated on the bus and train. I also find myself warmer when I enter a store than when walking outside, which is such a strange concept for summer time. One more thing that puts Ireland ahead with the whole saving energy thing is that you have to turn on a switch in order for appliances to work. It took me a whole two days to figure out how to work the toaster in our kitchen! What I didn’t notice was the small switch (similar to a light switch) on the wall above it. In order to power the toaster (along with the oven, the lamps, etc.) you have to turn on a switch before turning the appliance on. I felt like a true blonde after finally figuring it out!
Out of the city and into Cobh
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
6:00 p.m.
“Cobh (pronounced Cove) is situated on the southern shore of the Great Island in one of the world’s finest natural harbours.” – Cobh 2010 Tourist Information Guide
I fell in love with Cobh, Ireland today. My dad joked with me before I came here on how I should move to Ireland. Well, I could certainly see myself living in a place like Cobh. Although the trip to Cobh was scheduled as a group outing, we were given the opportunity to split up and do whatever we wanted once we arrived. The train ride to Cobh was scheduled to leave at 1:00; we made it on at 12:59. Our group was running all throughout the city just to make it on time. It was probably quite a funny site to the locals. Majority of the train ride was over water. After making its way out of Cork, there was nothing but wild horses, green pastures, cottages in the distance and sailboats on the water to see. Across from me there was a grandmother with her daughter and grandson. The grandmother told us the little boy’s name was Charlie and that he was just shy of two-years-old. Charlie was a hit with all us girls. Although he was extremely shy and looked away when we tried talking to him, I was able to get a few smirks out of him. After a short ride of 25 minutes, the train made its final stop in Cobh. The group exited, met up to grab a few brochures about the town, and separated in smaller groups to go off and explore.
The first thing I noticed about Cobh was the homes. I loved how they were all different colors. It reminded me of Charleston’s Rainbow Row along East Bay Street, but with smaller homes that were closer together.
The houses gave off a very Mediterranean vibe. They were built on hills that overlooked the water. Some had clothes hanging on lines out from backyard windows to dry. Others were a bit more fancy, featuring all white paint and decks that sat up high over the hills.A few places of interest I was able to check out were the Titanic Memorial, St. Colman’s Cathedral and the Old Church Cemetery. Cobh was the last stop the Titanic made before sailing out from Ireland to its final tragedy in the Atlantic. The Cathedral was the main architectural structure overlooking Cobh. No matter which street you are on, the Cathedral can be spotted. 
It took 47 years to build (1868-1915), has a length of 210 feet, a width of 120 feet, and a spire height of 300 feet. It was breathtaking. The last place I visited was the Old Church Cemetery, the spot that hosts the graves of victims from the Lusitania disaster. The walk to the cemetery was 2 km from town but since it was up and down steep hills it felt much longer. Thank goodness I decided to wear my tennis shoes.
It took 47 years to build (1868-1915), has a length of 210 feet, a width of 120 feet, and a spire height of 300 feet. It was breathtaking. The last place I visited was the Old Church Cemetery, the spot that hosts the graves of victims from the Lusitania disaster. The walk to the cemetery was 2 km from town but since it was up and down steep hills it felt much longer. Thank goodness I decided to wear my tennis shoes.The streets of Cobh were filled with elderly couples walking their dogs, teenagers grouped together in alleyways, quaint shops on each corner, kids running around on playgrounds and boys of all ages fishing on the harbor. The city was beautiful, historical and more than anything made me happy. It’s almost too hard to describe in words.
Expectations on Ireland...
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
11:00 a.m.
Well, I had many. I have now been in the land of the Irish for about 72 hours and have found that many of my expectations are far from what I thought they would be. Here are a few that surprised me:
1. Weather: For starters, I naturally expected cold, cloudy, rainy weather upon my arrival in Ireland. After all it is what the country is known for. I read somewhere online that Ireland doesn't have a climate, just weather; meaning that each day the winds and the air are changing and you can never know what to expect. The week before my departure, I scurried around on errands making sure I had enough rainproof gear. I bought two rain jackets, hiking shoes with waterproof lining, and even special socks designed for wearing in the rain. As my plane ended its flight over the Atlantic and into the vast greenness of Ireland, I was almost blinded by the immense amount of sunlight beaming through the window. It was then that I thought to myself, maybe I was wrong about the cold, the clouds and the rain. I stepped off the plane not only into the sunlight, but also into a moderately warm air that was accompanied by a nice, cool breeze. Well after three days here, the sun is still shining and the air is still warm. I’m crossing my fingers that the weather will stay like this for awhile. Although if it does, I will soon need to go shopping for more suitable clothes!
2. Food: As a vegetarian, another expectation I had was that I would have trouble finding various options in a country known for shepherds pie, beef stew, and the traditional Irish breakfast of sausage, bacon, baked beans and black pudding (a type of sausage made with dried blood!). I have been pleasantly surprised to find that I might just survive on my vegetarian diet over here. On the second night out, a group of us went to a restaurant where the menu conveniently listed which items were vegetarian. Everything I have eaten up until this point has been delicious. Whether it was my veggie burger, tomato soup or egg salad sandwich, I have enjoyed every meal. Turns out that I might just be alright after all.
3. People: As far as the local Irish people, I had unsettled expectations on whether they would be welcoming or not. I expected many of them to be standoffish and look down on us because we Americans sometimes have a reputation of being loud, uncultured and obnoxious. While we have gotten our share of weird stares, majority of the Irish people are eager to talk to us and very friendly and helpful. When a group of girls and I were in the bathroom at a pub on the first night, two younger Irish girls informed us that the word they use for cool is “savage.” They also told us the most popular places to shop downtown. When I asked a local Cobh woman if we were going the correct way to the Old Church cemetery, she kindly responded with detailed directions. When our bus driver was asked for his name, he jokingly replied, “I’m not quite sure because I have amnesia like George W. Bush.” While it is certain that our group sticks out like a sore thumb while wandering the streets of Ireland, they seem just as eager to converse with us as we do with them.
11:00 a.m.
Well, I had many. I have now been in the land of the Irish for about 72 hours and have found that many of my expectations are far from what I thought they would be. Here are a few that surprised me:
1. Weather: For starters, I naturally expected cold, cloudy, rainy weather upon my arrival in Ireland. After all it is what the country is known for. I read somewhere online that Ireland doesn't have a climate, just weather; meaning that each day the winds and the air are changing and you can never know what to expect. The week before my departure, I scurried around on errands making sure I had enough rainproof gear. I bought two rain jackets, hiking shoes with waterproof lining, and even special socks designed for wearing in the rain. As my plane ended its flight over the Atlantic and into the vast greenness of Ireland, I was almost blinded by the immense amount of sunlight beaming through the window. It was then that I thought to myself, maybe I was wrong about the cold, the clouds and the rain. I stepped off the plane not only into the sunlight, but also into a moderately warm air that was accompanied by a nice, cool breeze. Well after three days here, the sun is still shining and the air is still warm. I’m crossing my fingers that the weather will stay like this for awhile. Although if it does, I will soon need to go shopping for more suitable clothes!
2. Food: As a vegetarian, another expectation I had was that I would have trouble finding various options in a country known for shepherds pie, beef stew, and the traditional Irish breakfast of sausage, bacon, baked beans and black pudding (a type of sausage made with dried blood!). I have been pleasantly surprised to find that I might just survive on my vegetarian diet over here. On the second night out, a group of us went to a restaurant where the menu conveniently listed which items were vegetarian. Everything I have eaten up until this point has been delicious. Whether it was my veggie burger, tomato soup or egg salad sandwich, I have enjoyed every meal. Turns out that I might just be alright after all.
3. People: As far as the local Irish people, I had unsettled expectations on whether they would be welcoming or not. I expected many of them to be standoffish and look down on us because we Americans sometimes have a reputation of being loud, uncultured and obnoxious. While we have gotten our share of weird stares, majority of the Irish people are eager to talk to us and very friendly and helpful. When a group of girls and I were in the bathroom at a pub on the first night, two younger Irish girls informed us that the word they use for cool is “savage.” They also told us the most popular places to shop downtown. When I asked a local Cobh woman if we were going the correct way to the Old Church cemetery, she kindly responded with detailed directions. When our bus driver was asked for his name, he jokingly replied, “I’m not quite sure because I have amnesia like George W. Bush.” While it is certain that our group sticks out like a sore thumb while wandering the streets of Ireland, they seem just as eager to converse with us as we do with them.
Class, computers and community dinner
Monday, June 21, 2010
I was finally able to sleep in this morning. After two straight nights of going out to the pubs and having to wake up early for group meetings, I was able to catch up on some sleep and take my time getting ready. At noon, the group met at a UCC classroom to listen to a guest lecturer on Irish political and economic history. I was never one to enjoy history class, but this lecturer was quite interesting. He informed us on the past relationship between Northern Ireland and Ireland as well as the present. Following the lecture, we watched the movie, Michael Collins. I highly recommend it if you’ve never seen it and are interested in learning more about Ireland and the Irish War of Independence.
In the afternoon, a computer technician met with us to try and get our wireless set up. Because there are no summer classes at UCC, the wireless is down. So, we have all been sharing the four computers in the basement’s computer lab. Unfortunately the technician wasn’t able to get the wireless fixed so we are waiting to hear back from him on whether or not we will be able to receive it.
The group was pretty tired from all that’s been happening over the first two days so we came to a consensus to have a group potluck dinner. Each hall was in charge of getting a different dinner item, preparing the food, and bringing it to one of the suites for us all to eat. We shared pasta, salad, garlic bread, chips and dip, and chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream. The potluck was a big hit and a lot of fun to be able to relax and have dinner in with everyone. Plus we all saved money by not going out!
I was finally able to sleep in this morning. After two straight nights of going out to the pubs and having to wake up early for group meetings, I was able to catch up on some sleep and take my time getting ready. At noon, the group met at a UCC classroom to listen to a guest lecturer on Irish political and economic history. I was never one to enjoy history class, but this lecturer was quite interesting. He informed us on the past relationship between Northern Ireland and Ireland as well as the present. Following the lecture, we watched the movie, Michael Collins. I highly recommend it if you’ve never seen it and are interested in learning more about Ireland and the Irish War of Independence.
In the afternoon, a computer technician met with us to try and get our wireless set up. Because there are no summer classes at UCC, the wireless is down. So, we have all been sharing the four computers in the basement’s computer lab. Unfortunately the technician wasn’t able to get the wireless fixed so we are waiting to hear back from him on whether or not we will be able to receive it.
The group was pretty tired from all that’s been happening over the first two days so we came to a consensus to have a group potluck dinner. Each hall was in charge of getting a different dinner item, preparing the food, and bringing it to one of the suites for us all to eat. We shared pasta, salad, garlic bread, chips and dip, and chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream. The potluck was a big hit and a lot of fun to be able to relax and have dinner in with everyone. Plus we all saved money by not going out!
An overwhelming but successful first day
Saturday, June 19, 2010
After the six-hour flight – where I unfortunately lost five hours to the time change and got only one hour of sleep – I arrived at Shannon Airport. I expected cool, rainy weather upon my arrival but I was wrong. When I stepped off the airplane, I was taken aback by the unsuspected warmness. After congregating with a group of 21 students and three professors, taking a bathroom break, and sitting for a quick snack, we hopped on a coach shuttle to our first destination: Cork. Although I was extremely excited to be in my first European country, I couldn’t help but snooze off on the ride. Luckily I was able to stay awake for the first 10 minutes or so because our driver stopped at the first sighting of a castle and we all got out to take pictures. Once I got back on the shuttle though, I crashed. The shuttle ride to Cork took around two hours. When I woke from my quick nap, we were stopping for a quick lunch break at a gas station. There, I had my first Irish meal: a fried veggie burger with lettuce and a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise, and chips (more commonly known as the Irish term for French fries). The burger was potato based and surprisingly had a decent amount of vegetables in it. Soon after our lunch break we arrived at our first place of residence, University Hall at the UCC Campus. I was shocked to find out that each student would be getting his or her own room and bathroom. I was excited to have privacy but a little disappointed that we were all separated from one another. After unpacking and getting settled with the apartment complex, the whole group went to dinner at a restaurant called Milanos. I was a little unsure of how tasty the Italian food would be in Ireland but my vegetarian Cannelloni dish was delicious. After dinner, majority of the group decided to explore some Irish pubs. We decided on a place called An Brog, since we heard from a few people it was one of the best pubs in Cork. After toasting to Ireland, maybe more than once, the night only got better. I tried my share of Irish beers/ciders (Bulmer’s, Carlsberg, Murphy’s, etc.) and even met some local Irish guys, Vronin and Tiernen. They both attend UCC but were off for the summer. Vronin told me he would soon be traveling to Ocean City, Maryland, whereas Tiernen was about to travel to the western side of Canada. It was funny to hear of their excitement on traveling to America/Canada because I was overwhelmed with my own excitement of being in Ireland for the first time.
My first day/night in Cork was certainly a success. I was able to quickly bond with students from my group, find decent meals to eat, and experience my first night out on the town without getting lost. I am really looking forward to more fun nights to come in Cork.
After the six-hour flight – where I unfortunately lost five hours to the time change and got only one hour of sleep – I arrived at Shannon Airport. I expected cool, rainy weather upon my arrival but I was wrong. When I stepped off the airplane, I was taken aback by the unsuspected warmness. After congregating with a group of 21 students and three professors, taking a bathroom break, and sitting for a quick snack, we hopped on a coach shuttle to our first destination: Cork. Although I was extremely excited to be in my first European country, I couldn’t help but snooze off on the ride. Luckily I was able to stay awake for the first 10 minutes or so because our driver stopped at the first sighting of a castle and we all got out to take pictures. Once I got back on the shuttle though, I crashed. The shuttle ride to Cork took around two hours. When I woke from my quick nap, we were stopping for a quick lunch break at a gas station. There, I had my first Irish meal: a fried veggie burger with lettuce and a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise, and chips (more commonly known as the Irish term for French fries). The burger was potato based and surprisingly had a decent amount of vegetables in it. Soon after our lunch break we arrived at our first place of residence, University Hall at the UCC Campus. I was shocked to find out that each student would be getting his or her own room and bathroom. I was excited to have privacy but a little disappointed that we were all separated from one another. After unpacking and getting settled with the apartment complex, the whole group went to dinner at a restaurant called Milanos. I was a little unsure of how tasty the Italian food would be in Ireland but my vegetarian Cannelloni dish was delicious. After dinner, majority of the group decided to explore some Irish pubs. We decided on a place called An Brog, since we heard from a few people it was one of the best pubs in Cork. After toasting to Ireland, maybe more than once, the night only got better. I tried my share of Irish beers/ciders (Bulmer’s, Carlsberg, Murphy’s, etc.) and even met some local Irish guys, Vronin and Tiernen. They both attend UCC but were off for the summer. Vronin told me he would soon be traveling to Ocean City, Maryland, whereas Tiernen was about to travel to the western side of Canada. It was funny to hear of their excitement on traveling to America/Canada because I was overwhelmed with my own excitement of being in Ireland for the first time.
My first day/night in Cork was certainly a success. I was able to quickly bond with students from my group, find decent meals to eat, and experience my first night out on the town without getting lost. I am really looking forward to more fun nights to come in Cork.
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