Getting Lost

I think the best way to figure out how to get around a new city is to get lost.

Not the kind of lost where you are asking for directions, but the kind of lost where you know approximately where you are, if not what street you are on.

This forces you to explore a bit, get out of your comfort zone, and take in the city's architectural charms.

Just be sure that you don't do it after dark, cause when you get lost in the dark there aren't really any visual contexts to hang onto.

Let me tell you, getting lost in Galma Stan, the Old Town of Stockholm is especially fun as it is a little island that you could probably see all the streets of in a day.

From Mappery.com

Copenhagen to Stockholm

I have been know to oversimplify in my time....


Similarities

Lots of 7-Elevens
Lots of H&Ms
Bicycle Lanes
Royal Families
Royal Palaces that you can walk into
Candles on all the tables in restaurants and outside to indicate a "cozy" atmosphere
Nordic (or North Germanic to be more specific) Languages, though in Denmark it is Danish and in Sweden it is Swedish, obviously, you can still hear the similar words and pronunciations. I bet that if you knew one you could hold a fast-paced conversation with someone speaking the other.
History of Vikings and trade
Used to part of the Union of Kalmar, which was a political alliance between Sweden, Denmark and Norway.

Differences


Stockholm is more surrounded by water than Copenhagen. Stockholm consists of 14 islands that are linked together while Copenhagen juts out of the Zealand island of Denmark.

Royal Guard in Sweden consists of male and females and the units are not organized by height. In Denmark the Royal Guard is all male and the units consist of men of the same height (meaning when you visit the palace all the guards uniformity short, tall, or average).

Sweden was never occupied by the Nazi. While Copenhagen's monuments and building still remember the Nazi occupation, Sweden was able to remain neutral throughout World War II. In fact, over 7,000 Danish Jews were refugees from Denmark to Sweden during the war (out of the 8,000 Danish Jews that lived in Denmark at the time).

To be fair I shouldn't be making any comparisons between these two unique cities, but seeing as they share so much of the same history it is hard not to.

As I mentioned, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway belonged to the Union of Kalmar united under Queen Margaret originally from the 1300s until 1523. Then, Sweden breaks from the union. This is a problem because then the control over the Baltic is seemingly up for grabs.

From Wikipedia

While Denmark originally controlled land on both sides of the strait, in 1658, Charles X, the Swedish king claims the whole of the Swedish peninsula as theirs.

So Denmark and Sweden have a very interesting history, and Copenhagen and Stockholm, as the predominate seats of power have their share of history. To read more about it, and to understand how religion, royal families, and eventually Germany fits into the story: http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?groupid=561&HistoryID=aa59&gtrack=pthc

To be quite honest, I'm still not sure of the whole story, because depending on what side of the Sound you are on the attitudes change.

The Danish and... (Part II)

Speaking of their Royal family, let me tell you about...

...their hygge

I think  part of the reason that the Royal family is so secure in going out in public is this idea of hygge. Hygge, in the literal translation to English means cozy, but to the Danish it means so much more. Hygge is a kind of community, a understanding that people in Denmark will take care of their families in communities. My tour guide argued that hygge was the reason that the Danish voted for the party that would raise taxes instead of the party that would lower them. They take pride in the fact that they pay for their community and that they take care of others.

This could also be why Denmark has been voted the happiest country for the past 8 years (another fact noted by my informed tour guide).

Hygge is symbolized all over Denmark by candles that sit in windows, on restaurant tables, and outside cafes on the cold winter streets. The candles are "cozy."

Speaking of their hygge, let me tell you about...

...their shoe-less feet

Part of hygge means that the Danish are very into hospitality, but let me tell you, when you go into a Danish person's house you will probably be asked to take off your shoes.

It is tradition.

Plus it keeps the floors clean.

Speaking of their shoe-less feet, let me tell you about...

...their public transportation system

Their transportation system is also clean, and extensive, and technologically advanced, and used by many Danish people instead of cars.

Speaking of their public transportation system, let me tell you about...

...their bicycles

And if they aren't using public transportation or cars, they are biking. Which is easy to do in Denmark because they have their own road, and traffic lights. Usually set between the road and the pedestrian walkways lie the bicycle paths, which are very sophisticated. They even have double lanes in some areas for the people on their bikes turning left.

You haven't been to Denmark if you haven't gotten on a bike.  Note to self: we are back to driving on the right side of the road. Get used to it.

Speaking of their bicycles, let me tell you about...

...their museums

The one and only time I was on a bike in Denmark I was headed to a museum. While most museums in Copenhagen have a fee, if you are on a budget, I would recommend stopping by the National Musuem (http://www.natmus.dk/sw20374.asp) to see perfectly preserved viking corpses and runestones or The Danish National Gallery (http://www.copenhagenet.dk/CPH-Map/CPH-Gallery.asp) to see centuries of Danish Art (and the history that goes along with it).

Speaking of their museums, let me tell you about...

...their pastries

I'm sorry, but my mind always seems to go to the food. After a bike ride to the museum, and a couple of hours studying the paintings, a snack is much appreciated. And you know what they say: When in Denmark!

The Danish and...

Danish people and...

...their pastries

Of course, the first thing you think of when you think Denmark is Danishes. And I don't mean the people, I mean the delicious breakfast pastries that usual manifest themselves with custard, jam, and frosting (And if this in not your first thought when thinking about Denmark, then you obviously don't think with your stomach like I am wont to do).

I admit, from the beginning, I was determined to try as many pastries as possible in the 5 days I was in Copenhagen. And while my first day started slowly, by the end of the trip I was planning pastry runs before I left the house.

The best Danish I had was filled with raspberry jam, and I purchased it (along with a chocolate pastry) on the Norreport Street that leads from the center of the city towards the neighborhood where I was staying. Technically the coffee shop where, Truc (a friend from college) and I stopped was not in Central Copenhagen, but nonetheless, the pastry was the most memorable).

Bakeries in Copenhagen are marked by a golden pretzel topped by a golden crown. Find this sign and you have found the perfect place for Danishes.

Speaking of their pastries, let me tell you about Danish people and...

...their 7-Eleven's

But specialty bakeries are not the only place that you can find good pastries.

I found, one morning while running to a sightseeing tour, that the 7-Eleven's perched on nearly every street corner of Copenhagen offer 2 pastries for 10 Kronor. Because most pastries cost around 15 Kronor for one, this seemed to me a good deal. Plus, I was going to miss the tour.

Surprising, even the 7-Eleven's in Copenhagen seem to produce good pastries. They were fresh from the oven (though no telling how long ago they were first baked), and the abundance of 7-Eleven's around the city (that are of course opened 24/7) makes these pastries a cheap, convenient snack.

Speaking of 7-Eleven's, let me tell you about Danish people and...

...their Baresso Coffee

Another popular chain in Denmark (or at least Copenhagen) is Baresso Coffee.

Denmark's version of Starbucks, this store is seen quite often to one walking around Copenhagen (though never quite as often as the 7-Eleven's are seen). Opened by a Danish man who lived in Italy for 20 years, the story goes that he returned and was unable to find a decent cup of coffee.

Like all brilliant men who cannot find coffee to their specifications, he decided to create his own chain, and Denmark produced its major coffee chain.

While I cannot speak to their pastries, they do serve a good cup of coffee, if you are willing to part with upwards of $5 for a simple regular coffee.

Speaking of Baresso Coffee, let me tell you about Danish people and...

...their prices

Going to the supermarket in Denmark is not too expensive, but go out to a restaurant and the prices might surprise you.

Needless to say, Denmark dining is expensive.

The only thing that you can by for a meal that is not too expensive comes from a kebob restaurant. What Mexican food is to the United States, Middle Eastern food is to Denmark. You can find many kebob and durum restaurants in the ethnic suburb of the city, as well as many food trucks that sell durums to people within the city. They are about as common as hot dog stands.

So if you want a good, filling meal, at a decent price in Denmark, head towards the nearest sign with the word  "kebob."

Speaking of their prices, let me tell you about Danish people and...

...their free tours

But like many cities, their is always something to do in Copenhagen that won't cost you a dime (or a Kronor).

The tour I went to in Dublin (Sandeman's New Dublin Tour) also offered a 3 hour tour of Copenhagen (Sandeman's New Copenhagen Tour) which was enjoyable 3 hours. I saw the Royal Palace, the Royal Chapel, the oldest street in Copenhagen, the location of the beginning of the First Great Fire of Copenhagen (there were four Great Fires) the current City Hall, the past City Hall, the place where they executed people, the location of the attic where Hans Christian Anderson lived, the former Opera House, the Nazi headquarters during the German occupation, the channel, the current Opera House, and the Royal Guards (not precisely in that order).

Again, I recommend the Sandeman's tour if you are ever in Dublin or Copenhagen, or the other 12 cities that they provided free walking tours in. I just have one favor: if you are ever in Copenhagen and take the tour, and your guide's name is Gareth, tip him extra for me? I only had a 100 Kronor note in my pocket and was not able to get change to give to him.

Speaking of their free tours, let me tell you about Danish people and...

...their amusement parks

But while their are some amusements that are free, others are not.

As we all know, amusement parks are notoriously expensive. Lucky for me, Hope let me borrow her season pass to Tivoli (the world's second oldest amusement park and Disney's inspiration for Disneyland).

While I didn't go on any rides the experience of sipping hot chocolate with whipped cream in the Christmas market is not to be missed. The entire park is lit up with Christmas lights that would put even the most ambitious homeowner to shame. And the hot chocolate was quite good, too. I have heard that the best way to have it is with rum.

Speaking of their amusement parks, let me tell you about...

...their Mermaids

Tivoli might not exploit the story of the Little Mermaid like Disney did, but the city of Copenhagen did erect a statue of the mermaid on the east coast of the city.

Not much to say about this except that it seems like many Danish people consider this memorial to be one of the most disappointing tourist attractions in the world.

I cannot disagree.

Speaking of their Mermaids, let me tell you about...

...their idols

We all know that the Disney version of the Little Mermaid was written by Hans Christian Anderson, who also brought us children stories like the Emperor's New Clothes and the Ugly Duckling. What many people don't know is that the Little Mermaid is actually a very, very, very sad story that makes me want to never fall in love.

But, alas, Hans Christian Anderson is one of Denmark's most notable idols. And let me tell you they take great pleasure in reminding any tourist that he is indeed from their great city. He was, of course, the one to declare that "to travel is to live," so I suppose I'll forgive the original mermaid story.

Speaking of their idols, let me tell you about...

...their opera

So when H.C. Anderson first came to Copenhagen he wanted to be a choir boy in the Royal Opera Theatre, so he rented the attic space in the hotel across the street and bugged the Choir Master to let him sing. Eventually, this led to Anderson's involvement with the theater, where he eventually became a writer.

And let me tell you that their original Opera House is beautiful, though under renovation.

They currently have a new Opera House, brought to Denmark by the Moller foundation (The people who own Maersk. Unfortunately, the Danish people seem to be split on whether or not they like this addition to the city harbor.

Speaking of their opera, let me tell you about...

...their Royal family

The royal apartments are a stone throw away from the Copenhagen Opera House. And you can go right into the area. In fact, there is a museum located in the basement of one of the four houses where the royal family lives, so tourist are in and out all the time.

Spottings of the Royal family are common place, as members tend to leave their apartments frequently and venture out of the compound.

The Danish are very proud of their new princess (originally an Australian citizen) as the story is quite a fairy-tale romance. Two people meet in a bar, they fall in love, he proposes, she accepts, he tells her he's the crown prince, she gives up her citizenship, and they live happily ever after.

Thanksgiving

Spending Thanksgiving alone. The price of freedom costs more than just money.

I feel like the first Thanksgiving after college is a symbolic holiday. Many of my friends are striking out on their own for the first time this holiday. Instead of going back to their parents' houses they are planning the big meal and inviting new co-workers and friends over to their apartments.

Funny thing is, I don't miss that. Though I am often reminded that I have been giving up that precious first year on my own, I figure I'll have it next year.

Or not, because what I really miss is dinner with my family and friends. And if I'm in the States next year, you can bet I'll be pooling my money to head back home for that one night.

København

My first impression of Copenhagen is that it is expensive. While 1 dollar is about 5 and a half kroner, it takes about 28 kroner to buy a regular cup of coffee (over 5 dollars).

Ireland to Denmark

Won a bull riding contest in Ireland my last night (mechanical bull).

Slept two hours.

Missed the bus to the airport when I forgot my passport.

Caught the bus at the next stop.

Slept on the plane to Copenhagen.

Took the Metro and got Kroner (Danish currency).

Bus to Hope's apartment.

Buzzer was broken.

Knocked on the door's of all the apartments in Hope's building.

Finally found Hope.

Pasta with really good garlic tomato sauce made by Hope.

Catching up.

Laundry.

Sleep.

The Claddagh

Girls from all over the world flock to the tourist and gifts shops of Ireland to buy their copies of the Claddagh Ring. The ring, which represents friendship, love, and loyalty through two hands (friendship) holding a heart (love) that wears a crown (loyalty), is one of the major items in stock for any tourist shop in Ireland, especially the ones near Claddagh, Co. Galway.

Funny enough, if any of these tourist took some time to talk to a local or a decendent of the Irish Diaspora about the Claddagh they might be more wary about their purchase.

The story goes that a man from Claddagh made the first  ring to give to his love when he left their town. He gave it to her as a symbol of their love.

Now, depending on where and how a woman wears the ring she discloses the status of her heart. Worn on the right middle finger with the heart pointed inwards, the lady indicates that her heart in unavailable. Worn on the same finger with the heart pointed out, she indicates that love is a possibility. Worn on the ring finger of her left hand, she indicates that her heart is taken (and that she is most likely engaged or married).

It is a very nice thought, and even I was enchancted by the romantic stories and considered buying one, until I heard that to purchase the Claddagh Ring for oneself is considered bad luck in love. The only way to really recieve the ring is either from a first love or from a elder female member of your family.

All these girls head to the tourist shops to  buy into the romance of Ireland, and the venders never mention the implications of buying the Claddagh Ring.

Leaving Aran Islands for Dublin

The morning of the 16th, I finished packing up my bags, ate breakfast, cleaned my room, and headed towards the pier. It was a foggy morning and even though it was after 8 the sun was not yet visible. I got on the ferry and started my journey to Dublin.

The Aran Islands had changed in the couple of weeks that I've been there. The weather is cooling and getting wetter, and the seals have come into the coves. It is a pleasure to sit on the rocks on the beach and watch the seal worm their way into the water and float together. But all holidays must come to an end.

I slept through most of the bus ride from Galway City to Dublin. It was a dreary day and I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before because I tend to leave packing to the last minute.

Dublin was just as I remembered it from the first day I was in Ireland almost 9 weeks ago. It is hard to believe that I've been here that long as the time has certainly flown. My hostel for the days I was here was located on the river Liffy, which basically runs through the center of the city. Once I made it here, I took the rest of the day easy.

I woke up on the 17th feeling refreshed and decided the thing to do, before heading out to any specific location, was take a free walking tour of the city (I recommend Sandeman's Free New Europe Dublin Tour to anyone  spending a day or two in Dublin). Afterwards, some of us from the tour decided to head out for lunch. I had fish and chips with Dineen from Australia. We completely lost track of the time and when we had finished talking politics and cultures the sun had set.

We walked back towards our respective hostels together and then parted at O'Connell bridge, the main bridge in Dublin which is know for being thicker than it is long.

That night I headed out for a pub crawl (organized by Sandeman's and also recommended). It was fun and I met a lot of great people from around the world. I headed back to my hostel early.

Nothing too interesting, but that catches you up on my adventures thus far. Headed back to Wicklow this afternoon (back to the family farm I was on before) before I head out for Copenhagen on Monday! I'm very sad (cause I'm going to miss Ireland) and excited!

The Stairs

There is one place in the hostel where the Wifi internet, and that is right near the front door and on the steps leading up to the rooms. Every time that I want to check to see if the family is on Skype, or check my email, or update my status on Facebook or my blog I have to take my computer out on the stairs.

Every once in a while, a person will trudge up or down the stairs and I'll have to move my legs out of their way. Or the door at the base of the stairs that leads to the outside will swing open and a gust of cold autumn air will rush up the stairs and I'll make a quick escape to my room for a long sleeved shirt. Or the music from Marco's room, which sits in the corner of the lobby behind the Reception desk, will drift up to my perch and I'll either scramble for my headphones (if its some of his obscure Italian rock) or start singing along (to the Lion King soundtrack).

Marco called it my favorite spot, probably because it is the only place in the main part of the hostel where I'll sit for any length of time. Of course, I'll sit in the kitchen and the common room, but they are in a different building and they have absolutely sh-t internet access (excuse my censored French).

So at least once a day, I pull out my netbook to research Sweden or look at photos of Strand, my brother, in Chile, and sit on the landing of the dark blue carpeted stairs. The seat is uncomfortable, but it digitally connects me.

The Road Not Taken

In Robert Frost's well-known poem, "The Road Not Taken" the author describes a walker faced with the decision when two paths fork into the unknown. Knowing that he only has the inclination to take one path and not two, the walker decides to take "the road less traveled by" and leave the other for an unlikely second walk.

Unlike Frost, I try not to accept that I can only go down one path (and I mean this literally, not figuratively). The paths in Ireland fork quite frequently, especially on the Aran Islands, and I have been making a valiant attempt over these past few weeks to travel down each road.

I hate choosing one thing over another. This could be why my last semester of college was so busy, instead of picking dance or photography, kickboxing or boxing, philosophy or sociology, I took them all. I think I get this trait from my dad.

He's what most people would conservatively call a worrier (and I say this with love). Take either my dad or I into a shop to buy one specific item, and given the complexity of the object, the purchase could reasonably be made hours later after visiting another store for comparison and interrogating a customer service representative. Take both me and my dad to a store, like a couple of days before I left for London when I decided I needed a new netbook because the old one was too slow, and you only really get a purchase after internet research, three separate stores, conversations with 4 sales reps, 5 hours,  and a whole lot of: "You decide, Dad," "No, Elaine, you decide, this is your computer," "But, Dad, I don't want to make the decision."

The thing is, to make a satisfying choice, you really have to be fully informed about what you are giving up.

I tell you this because this approach has defined my walks around Inishmaan. While one would assume that the pathways covering a 9 mile water locked island would be significantly limited, it seems to me that each path around the island forks at least 5 times before you reach your intended destination. Which means, to me, that every walk that is supposed to take an hour or two, ends up being 3 or 4.

There is one main road in Inishmaan that beings in the middle at Kilronan Village and winds its way in two directions, towards the tip of the island and towards the base (though really the island lies almost east to west so which is the tip and which is the base, I can never be sure). The road to the west goes upward to the main chunk of the island were the Mesolithic attractions stand on the cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The road to the east heads towards what I consider a tower, but what is now simply a circle of stones built up from the ground from which you can view the end of the island and the next island over.

If you set out in the early afternoon towards the east, you might be lucky to come back towards Kilronan as the sun sets. Because we are so far north, the sun seems to rise and set in the same southern portion of the sky, never really hitting a point right above our heads. And as you head west during the sunset, you are not facing directly into the sun, so instead of observing the sunset, you watch as the village of Kilronan turns orange as the fading light from the sun hits the buildings just so. Then the angles of the roofs soften as the sky goes to a greyish-blue. If you time it right, then right as you enter Kilronan you have just enough time to find a suitable perch on the rocks along the beach, turn to the south, and watch the sun tuck itself in the hills for the night.

Every afternoon I decide which way to head into the island. But even if there is only one main road, there are many paths forking off. While the main road is paved, its out-shoots are grassy and they tend to wind themselves through stone walls held together by nothing more than gravity. You come upon ducks on their ponds, horses in their yards, cattle in adjoining yards, goats climbing over the walls, and pigs in their muddy little kingdoms.

While I do hope to travel each path at least once, some deserve extra attention as a walk down one in the morning air could be very different from one in the evening.

No matter where I go, however, the land is green. It is fall in Ireland, but still the land is green. I suppose this is because there are little to no trees on the island, so there is nothing to change color. If it weren't for the weather I would guess that it was summer in this little cove.

I don't want to make the wrong choice of path to follow. And if I don't see everything then I really won't know what I'm giving up. I want to see it all, so I'll continue to traverse every new path on the island until it is time to go back to the mainland.

Pictures

My first pictures are up!

View my new Facebook page and comment on the photos!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Around-the-World-in-Days/239638059417642?sk=wall

Pajamas

Sometimes you spend the whole day in your pajamas just cause you can.

Sometimes you do it cause you have a migraine.

:(

Rainbows

It is a good thing that I don't melt in the rain because it seems that every day it rains here, and usually just around the time that I'm headed out for a walk. And inevitably, at some point in the walk I'll look up to see a rainbow.

Rainbows are more vivid in Ireland.

I think it has finally sunk in what I've done by coming here. This is my life. For the first time I'm not second guessing my decisions; not thinking about whether I've chosen the wrong majors, the wrong college, the wrong courses, the wrong path in life. This is what I'm supposed to be doing right now.

Gazing at rainbows in Ireland.

So breathtakingly simple, right?

Kilronan Hostel

The first person I met when arriving on the Aran Islands was Marco. Marco is my boss at the Kilronan Hostel in Kilronan, the biggest "town"/harbor in the Aran Islands. Marco is originally from Italy and though he speaks English pretty fluently, his speech is heavily accented and hard to understand.

The hostel itself is a two building establishment, one building that sits adjoining one of the town pubs and contains most of the dorm rooms (including the one where I am staying) and the Reception area. The other building holds the kitchen and the common room.

This were I will be working for the next week and half, helping Marco out for the last month of the 2011 season in exchange for room and board.

Occupy Ireland

As anyone who is reading the news can see, the Occupy Movement has gone global. Campsites have popped up in two of the cities that I have been to, at Occupy Cork and Occupy Galway. In Galway, I met one of the female campers on a night when all the females were banned from the camp because there was going to be violence that night.

Added to the political scene in Ireland, Micheal D. has been elected President.

Welcome to the Aran Islands

So I didn't celebrate Halloween on Halloween night because Halloween night I was taking the ferry from Ros An Mhil (in Co. Galway) to the Aran Islands off the coast of Ireland. Known all over Ireland as a wonderful summer vacation spot, it also seems to be the destination for artists and surfers on weekends in late October or early November. I was headed to Inishmore (the biggest of the three islands).


I took the bus from Galway City to Ros An Mhil at about quarter pass six. The ride was about and hour and the sun that had been up when we left Galway had set by the time we reached the pier. The ride on the ferry was made in the dark, and the only indication that we were on the water was the turbulence. I will admit that I got a bit sea sick, and that my occupation talking to a native of the island was probably the only thing that kept me from losing my lunch (note to self: on the way back to the main land, take a seat in the back of the ferry where the waves are less noticeable).


The girl I met on the way over's name was Finnoula (though to be quite honest, this is a guess because I'm not so great at remembering the Irish pronunciations). Originally from the Islands, she now lives in Dublin where she teaches eleven-year-olds. While I was the one who began the conversation at the bus stop, she sought me out on the ferry to continue our conversation. I think she noticed my heavy bad was was being friendly to a fellow traveler.While she was not currently travelling (aside from coming home for the weekend) she mentioned that she had lived for a year in Australia (something that a lot of Irish do after graduating from University) with her boyfriend.


We talked about Australia, what it is like to travel at our age, her job in Dublin, Ireland, and the Aran Islands. She gave me some insights about being from the Islands. When we left the ferry she walked me close to my hostel and pointed me to the door. A friendly welcome is always appreciated and rarely forgotten!

HALLOWEEN

H-A-double L- O- W- double E- N, spells Halloween!

Did you know that the traditions of Halloween started in Ireland? Of course, it is a "celebration" of All Hallow's Eve, that began in Ireland around 100 AD. Traditionally, this day marked the ending of the summer in Celtic pagan holidays. It was thought that at this time of the year the spirit world and the universe we reside in were close together, which enabled the dead to return again to our realm. (http://www.ireland-information.com/articles/irishhalloweentraditions.htm)

The pumpkin and the costumes come from traditions that began in Ireland. The Jack-O'-Lantern is supposed to represent Jack the blacksmith, who made a deal with the Devil and was denied entry into the afterlife. He then asked the Devil for a light to light his way, which he was granted. The Irish first represented this with the turnip root, but when Irish Americans immigrated to the States, turnips were harder to come by then pumpkins, and pumpkins soon replaced them. The costumes were worn to trick the spirits into thinking that Druid wandering through the night were one of them. This way the Druid could avoid capture or hurt from the spirits. (http://www.ireland-information.com/articles/irishhalloweentraditions.htm)

Even though the traditions are based in in Ireland, some Irish hold some disdain for the Americanization of the holiday. Were costumes were traditionally homemade, once the holiday was Americanized, the holiday became yet another economic holiday.

For the holiday this year, I was in Galway. many people my age in Ireland head to Galway City for the Bank Holiday (a three-day weekend) to celebrate and party with there friends on the streets of Galway. This, I think is because Galway city has the reputation of being somewhat of a night city, as the University of Galway is right nearby and many of the students are in town a lot of the time. People come from Dublin and Cork to celebrate the holiday.

Stephanie, a employee at the Sleepzone where I was staying organized an unofficial holiday pub crawl complete with costumes and face paint. Even with my lack of costume options and limited budget, I was able to come up with a airplane stewardess costume (something I thought was appropriate to represent my travelling self). There was a group of people out on the pub crawl but I only socialized with a couple (Stephanie- originally from LA, but lived in Cork for 12 years, Morgan- from France, Jenny- another employee at Sleepzone, and a couple of others). It was fun, and now I'll always be able to say that I celebrated Halloween where it started, in the north of Ireland!

Galway City

I admit that when I arrived in Galway I made my way to the hostel (Sleepzone) and promptly plugged in and relaxed for the weekend. Every once in a while I would make an excursion to see the town, the Spanish Arch (built in the 1500s), the weekend flea market, or the grocery store. But mostly I stayed in the hostel talking to random people, reading, and doing a lot of surfing the internet. After a couple of weeks of little to no internet, I was feeling deprived.

The best thing about travelling in this day and age is the internet. Even though I'm a quarter way around the world, I was able to Skype with my parents. As much as I would appreciate a hug from them every now and again, hearing their voices is a comfort that never fails to soothe me.

I absolutely love that I have been able to travel, but every now and again it beings to get lonely. You don't stay in one place very long, and you are constantly meeting new people. And for my, the introvert, I am always a little out of my comfort zone. It is so good for me, but so exhausting.

So I'm taking this weekend to plug in (to my family, to the internet, to Facebook, to a good book), recharge, and start again on Monday when I travel to the Aran Islands off the coast of Co. Galway.

Cobh

My last day in Cork City, on the recommendation of my hostel hostess, Tracey (Aaron Hostel, Cork City) I took the train from Cork City along the river for half an hour to Cobh, formally known as Queenstown, famously know as being the last Port of Call for the Titanic.

The second thing you notice after leaving the train, after the walls plastered with reproduction of old newspapers and posters proclaiming Queenstown as the last Port of Call for the Titanic and recalling the tragedy of events that occurred soon after she had left Ireland, is the massive cathedral that seems to float over the town.

Cobh, the town, is built on a steep hill, at the top of which the planners built a massive cathedral, so from the shore (where the town/land meets the water) it appears as though the cathedral's base is resting on the roofs of the houses and shops along the main street. Intrigued by this phenomenon, I proceeded to climb the backstreets of Cobh until I was able to gain entry to the front gates of the Cathedral guard.

Now, I would not considered myself a very religious person, but after 6 years of attending a religious school were I was not only required to attend services once a week in a cathedral, but also it was also mandatory to take classes on the building of said cathedral, I have a vast appreciation for the hard work and finances that go into building a religious monument. That being said, this beautiful cathedral in Cobh still had the ability to take my breath away.

I can be cynical about religious organizations, I admit, but when people believe so strongly that they pull strength from their beliefs to build temples that bring to mind mountains from nothing... well, I have to respect that.