RAG Week and Ring of Kerry

Okay so I'm going to do these updates in basically chronological order, beginning wayyy back in February with the Ring of Kerry tour and RAG week!

On the weekend of the 12th, I went on a trip organized through UCC to tour the Ring of Kerry. It was BEAUTIFUL. The Ring of Kerry is a tourist route around the Iveragh Peninsula of County Kerry, the most southwestern county in Ireland. The trip was put on by the head of the Irish language department at UCC, Marian. She's a really nice lady, and the weekend was chock full of things for us to do. There were about 50 of us on the trip, all visiting students, and I already knew about half of those people before we went (including all of the cackling hens, which we've adopted as the name for our group of 6) - which made for a good time. We all piled onto a big tour bus and began our trek out into the Kerry landscape.

Map of the Ring of Kerry Tour, done counter-clockwise.

The drive out to where we were staying in Cahersiveen was beautiful in itself. We took narrow winding roads along the base of mountains and beside rivers and the ocean. Marian gave us all a handout of basic phrases in Irish because we'd be going through some Gaeltacht areas (although I already knew them because of my Spoken Irish class), and we also sang the Irish version of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes". We stopped in Glenbeigh at the Kerry Bog Village Museum, a replica of a famine town. There were little houses with thatched roofs and all sorts of Famine era objects. What everybody was most amused by, though, were two Irish wolf hounds and Hercules, the smallest miniature horse in Ireland. Also, there was King Puck - an exact model of a big wild goat that they caught one year for the Puck Fair, where they catch a wild goat and put him on a raised platform in the middle of an intersection, then drink for 48 hours straight... or so I was told!

Hercules, one of the wolfhounds, and King Puck!

The first of the most beautiful views I saw this weekend happened just before dark on the first day, just before we got into Cahersiveen.  The ocean suddenly came into view, and the road we were on led us along a route carved into the side of a mountain with the water at its base. We stopped at a pull-off for a few minutes, and were told that we were looking at Dingle Bay. It wast just a very wild view. The land on the opposite side of the bay was totally uninhabited, the water was wild, and big waves were crashing onto the rocks below us. It was the first of several views I just couldn't get enough of.

We got into Cahersiveen and checked into our hotel and had dinner. Our hotel, meals, transportation, and entrance fees to exhibits were all included in the fee we paid, and let me tell you, the food was definitely worth it. The most prominent thing at every meal was a never-ending supply of these little rolls... mmm so good. We would each eat 4 or 5 at each meal, on top of the regular food we had. They gave us a buffet of scrambled eggs and cereals with juice and coffee  at breakfast, little sandwiches at lunch- the barbecue meat was definitely the best, and a choice of what main dish we wanted at dinner. So yummy! And always, the rolls. After dinner, we had a local farmer, Muiris, come and talk to us about life in Kerry. It's pretty isolated, especially where he lives on Valentia Island. He talked about how far things have come in recent history, but how it still takes an hour and a half to drive to the nearest movie theater or hospital... After that, we learned some ceili dancing! I had done it once before during Trad Week at UCC, and it was SO FUN then, and it was again on this trip. It got off to a slow start, but once we'd run through the various dances a couple of times, it was great craic. My favorite ones were the Seige of Ennis and the Bridge of Athlone. I've read of beginners ceili dancing as a "self-regulating chaotic system", and I would agree - but still loads of fun! We went to bed pretty early that first night, and began our day early on Saturday.

We hopped on the bus relatively early and began to make our way to Muiris' farm. After driving through te little town of Portmagee, we went over a bridge onto Valentia Island. We stopped at The Telegraph Field, where the first transatlantic telegraph cable was laid in 1866, in Foilhommerum Bay. It was another beautiful view, with impressive waves crashing onto the cliffs and spraying at least 40 feet into the air. One of my friends went to investigate the cliff-side, and got drenched when she got a little too close. Out in the distance, we could see the Skellig Islands, the larger of which is the site of a 7th century monastery (very cool- google it!). Also, it was so windy there. I was practically blown over by one gust.

 The view from The Telegraph Field.

 

Rough waters! The Skelligs are there centered in the distance.

From there, we continued across Valentia until we got to Muiris' farm, whereupon we parked and began out ascent up to the highest point on the island. It was still incredibly windy, and a long, steep climb that was particularly difficult because of my bruised tailbone (I had been out with the girls and was dancing with a guy, which was all great fun until he decided to pick me up and promptly drop me straight onto my tailbone... ouch). But all grumbling aside, it was well work the hike. The view from the top was incredible - the second scenic vista of the trip that just took my breath away.

 As always, a picture can't really do it justice, but this was so beautiful!

Paige, Skye, and me climbing on Valentia... a little windblown!

On our way back down from the top, we take a little detour and walk out to see the Fogher Cliffs, another beautiful spot. At this point, we're all a little too windblown and decide to hoof it back to the bus to thaw. Once everyone's back and the head count is accurate, we continue on our way, stopping at the Valentia Slate Quarry. After crossing back over to the mainland of Ireland, we do the Skellig Ring Tour, sort of an offshoot of the Ring of Kerry. It's a lot of rural scenery, and we see St. Finian's Bay, purportedly one of the best places to surf (see this video for a cool look at the beach and one of the Skelligs - also, I think the dogs in it belong to Marian's brother, who lives across the road from the beach!)

We head back to the hotel for a big dinner after our long day of sightseeing, and afterward get a lesson in Gaelic football from a local man and his son and nephew. There was a table quiz that night in the bar in the hotel, and though my team didn't really do so well, it was a lot of fun. There were these things called 'spot prizes', where randomly between rounds of questions, there would be a challenge, and the first person to do it would get a prize. The challenges were things like, first to find a certain person in the bar (a regular, of course), first guy to come up wearing an item of women's jewelry, first girl to come up wearing men's shoes, and first person to sing a song... and guess who was the first to sing a song? That's right, yours truly! I sang Tell Me Ma (with the help of Erin and Kelly) and won a bag of Skelligs mint chocolate brittle! SO yummy.  My team actually won almost all of the spot prizes, so we were winners after all!  We were all having such a good time that after the table quiz ended, we didn't want to go to bed yet. So of course, I make friends with the bartender, who promises me that he'll keep the bar open as late as we want to stay up. This sounds like a good deal to me, and barman Stephen becomes my new best friend! A couple of us wind up staying in the bar until about 4 or 4:30, at which time we decide it's probably a good idea to go to bed, considering we had to get up at 8... But before we did, Stephen got all of our phone numbers and said that he would definitely give us a call when he came to Cork for RAG week that next week.

Getting up for breakfast was not the most fun, and needless to say, we took advantage of the copious amounts of coffee offered. We started our day by going for a walk... a nearly TWO HOUR walk to this ring fort. The whole time were walking there, we could see massive storm clouds rolling in, and wondered what we'd do when they reached us... Turns out we get to the ring fort and it starts pelting hail down on us, so as many people as possible crowd into an entryway in the fort and try to wait it out, feeling bad for those stuck outside. Happily, the bus came to pick us up, but not until after we all get soaked through, including wet shoes. Yuck. The walk out was nice at least! Always an adventure in Ireland.

 A view from the bridge on the beginning of our walk, coming out of Cahersiveen.

I believe that's Skye and Kelly on top of the fort that we walked so far to see...

We finished touring that day, stopping to see Derrynane House, the home of Daniel O'Connell the Liberator. I fell asleep during the movie we watched about his life, so I can't tell you much about him, but the house and views were nice. Caherdaniel, the town, is one of the most beautiful places. It was in this area that I saw the most spectacular view of all. After driving through Waterville, which contains a bronze statue of Charlie Chaplin, we climbed up a mountainside, and stopped at the top of the gap. When I got out of the bus and saw the view, I literally had to turn my back because it was just too beautiful. Yeah. Of course, when I turned around, there was still another view, so it didn't do me much good!

 

Driving into Waterville.

The cackling hens! Kelly, Skye, Paige, me, Jen, and Erin.

 

On our way back, we also passed through Killarney National Forest, which was beautiful. We stopped at 'ladies' view' to check out the Killarney Lakes and snap some photos, but were all so tired that we quickly piled back onto the bus. I should mention some more about the bus, actually. The cackling hens took over the very front of the bus, and our boisterous guy friends were in the way back. Marian wanted us to be entertained by more than just the scenery, so she encouraged the more outgoing and talented people on the bus to come up to the front and use the microphone to talk to the bus... Basically, we took over, and were singing any song we could think of, from American Pie, to Galway Girl, to Lean On Me, to Mollie Malone. We were having a great time, until we realized that half of the bus was trying to sleep... then we gave up the mic to our friend Matt, who told jokes and made a fake commentary about what were seeing. After Killarney, we were all falling asleep, and he finally gave up and went back to sleep himself. The bus was quiet all the way into Cork. Our momentous weekend was over, and we were full of beautiful sights, yummy food, and generally high on life, despite being exhausted.

 Killarney Lakes as seen from Ladies' View.

Strange mountains...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So after we got back from our Ring of Kerry Tour, despite being so exhausted, we went out that sunday night to see The Kilkennys perform. The Kilkennys are a band from Kilkenny (duh) that play a sort of rock take on traditional Irish music. And they're GREAT. I'd been listening to their music for a while before I saw them, so I was really looking forward to the show. They were playing in Reardens, and when we got there, I of course made my way to the very front of the stage. If you didn't know, I'm obsessed with the bodhran, the Irish traditional drum. It's just an amazing instrument, and I'm transfixed whenever it's being played... ask any of my friends. It' sort of a joke among us, actually. So I got right up to the stage and gazed up adoringly at the the bodhran player. They played a really great set of music, and things got pretty rowdy at times. I got shoved into the risers they were playing on by drunk people that I had massive bruises on my shins for the next week. Totally worth, it though. 

Skye, Kelly, and me with the lead singer of The Kilkennys, Davey.

And then it was RAG week... RAG week, or R&G, stands for Raise and Give. Basically, it's a week of fundraising for charity, but like every other holiday in Ireland, has turned into a major drinking event. And I mean MAJOR. Every night is crazy in every pub, people start drinking in the early afternoon, and it's sort of amazing if you go to your classes. In fact, if you drink every night and go to all your classes during RAG week, it's called a platinum week; if you only miss 1 or 2, it's a gold week, etc. There is a lot of pride about these, er, accomplishments. Now I'm not going to give you all the sordid details of my week, but I only completed half of what makes up a platinum week... I went out every night. And Stephen, our friend from Cahersiveen, did come up to Cork, and we hung out a few times! Also, our friends from Limerick came down, we played Irish Kings (a super fun card game) and went out with them. Overall, it was a really fun week! Legen - wait for it - dary. 

 The cackling hens :)

Updates at Last!

I've been a very bad blogger... sorry! Things started happening very fast in March, and the month flew by before I knew it. I'll try to recall some highlights for you, namely:
-our trip to Waterford and Tramore, Australian boys included,
-St. Patrick's Day,
-Denmark! (and the massive tumble I took just before),
-and from long ago: the Ring of Kerry tour and RAG week, the Cork music scene, and lots of other random things I can't bring to mind right now.

Time for some serious blogging...

The Journey or the Destination

Disclaimer: This post gets pretty corny at the end... bear with me!

Call me crazy, but one of the things I enjoy most about being in Cork is walking to and from class- not because I'm excited to go to class, but because I just love being out in the city. The past few days the weather has been beautiful - in the 50s, sunny, not windy, just gorgeous, and today was no different. I had class at 2, and I just really enjoyed my walk home. I was with Paige until I hit Grand Parade, where we bumped into our friend Joanie and chatted for a while next to the fountain about weekend plans. Skye and her boyfriend Mike, who's visiting this week, came along as well, and we all had a few laughs before going our separate ways. I crossed Grand Parade and began to make my way along Oliver Plunkett. This is the street that I invariably walk on every day, no matter where I go, whether to class or out at night. It's a pedestrianized street; there's only one-way traffic at certain times of the day - never a constant flow of cars (a lot like Church St. for my VTers). As I begin making my way down the street, the sun is warm on the backs of my legs; there's a flower shop on my right, and I can smell its sweet aroma as I walk by on the opposite side of the street. The Brog, the infamous pub, I pass on my left, weaving through the small but ever-present crowd of smokers standing out front. I've learned to hold my breath when I pass by, but this leaves my first inhale falling as I pass the entrance to the English Market, where I'm blasted by the strong odor of fresh fish. I keep walking, past Euro 2 (it's like a dollar store, but eveything's 2 euros), and now I start to people watch. There's usually a good number of people out in the afternoons here, and today's no different- no sign of the economic troubles to be seen, except that every store is having massive sales!

The people in Cork, as in any city I suppose, vary widely. There are groups of students in their private school windbreaker uniforms, insignia attached; old hunched men slowly making their way down the street with a cane, or sitting on anything they can find and squinting through thick glasses at the people quickly passing them by; trashy women in track suits; more respectable moms (or dads) pushing adorable babies in giant buggies; businessmen walking briskly in suits and nice shoes; young Irish guys in their typical outfit of a nice sweater and athletic-type pants (I find this look quite strange. It's like they can't decide if they want to be casual or dressy, so they do both - even out in the pubs!); and I swear every third person is smoking.

At this point, there's a lot of people on the sidewalk, and since I'm a fast walker and don't much enjoy weaving through slow-moving mobs, I take to the center of the street as I usually do - don't worry, it's one of the times of day when cars aren't allowed, and even if they were, it's quite easy to avoid them! I pass by two Italian looking guys taking a photo with a cheesy grin in front of something stereotypically Irish and chuckle to myself. I'm getting pretty good at picking out who's not Irish, and I'm being mistaken for being Irish more often. (Quick side story: I was out at a bar Saturday night, talking to a guy, and I asked if he was from Cork. He wasn't - he was from Co. Laois, so I told him I was from the States, and wasn't it obvious? He looked at me quizzically and said he didn't believe me. When I asked why, he said, "Ye've got a tick (thick) Cork accent on ye". I was so excited to hear that!!!)  I pass by the Sound Store, blasting American music as it always does, and see my buddy Séamus in front of me. Séamus is a busker, and sings opera for passersby. Some day I'll tell the story of how I met him, but today as I passed, I gave him a smile and a wave and a nod, and received a slight bow and salute in return.
 

Séamus singing in front of the Tesco.

I carry on, passing by a bookstore, the kebab place, chocolate shops, O'Donovans (the closest off license!), and some of my favorite stores to windowshop, smiling and waving to a couple of people I know. Guiney's, a large but strange store that's sort of like looking through someone's Grandma's attic, is piping a local radio station currently on commercial break out to the street. I'm about at the GPO (General Post Office) at this point, a prime area for buskers, and I'm surprised to see only a very shy-looking, awkward young guy strumming a guitar and singing inaudibly. What I do hear, though, is "Echo! Echo! Evening Echo!" being shouted repeatedly by a now very familiar voice. The same guy sits outside of the GPO almost every day, it seems, shouting the name of this newspaper for sale. I was talking to an Irish friend, and he said he had the thought one day that this guy has probably said the word "echo" more than any other word in his life... then he said he had this thought 9 years ago, so it's most likely true now!

I go on, still hearing "echo" behind me, past the Old Oak and An Bodhran, and the foot traffic begins to thin a bit as I get further from the main shopping area. I pass the tattoo shop and see just ahead of me the sign for Market Lane, the restaurant that is my signifier for the entrance to my street. I cross over to the right sidewalk, and turn just after the little cook store, currently advertising cooking classes in Italian dinners and a sale on pots. My street is lined with uneven paving stones, and I walk on the far right where it's actually more level. I pass by the usual few waiters and waitresses outside taking a smoke break, and the recently built but empty and unfinished Beasly Hotel hangs out over the alley; I see that there are actually a few construction workers inside, and I hope that they don't decide to do any early morning hammering in the future. "Lituanica", the Lithuanian food store (don't ask me why), is on my right, and I grab my keys out of my pocket before coming to the bright red door of my apartment.

I really do enjoy just walking by myself around the city. If only my 5 year old self could see me now! I like to go places that I haven't been yet, and see new things. It's getting to be spring here, the weather's shaping up, flowers are blooming, and I'm feeling more happy than ever here, despite any recent fallbacks. For me, loving my walks to and from class is a metaphor for being here. We all know that cheesy expression, life's about the journey, not the destination. But for the first time, I feel like I'm truly living life, to the fullest, each and every day. I'm wondering if this is part of my journey, or if this could be my destination.

Update: I think this is finally just the beginning of the "journey" of my life... I have a lot more to see before I know my "destination".

Today...

... is my BIRTHDAY! Happy Birthday to meee. It's strange to be so far away from everyone and everything familiar, but I'm getting lots of well-wishes, and I feel the love from afar. My friends here in Ireland are making today a good day as well- more to come on what we actually do, but Paige is cooking me dinner tonight, and last night my closest friends and I went to the Old Oak for midnight when it turned over to my b-day, and they bought me birthday shots! My facebook is blowing up with birthday messages and chats from friends from home, and from Ireland. Don't I feel special : )

Home?

Just a brief observation, but I've come to realize that I call my apartment here "home". This isn't to say that I've replaced my VT home in my mind- that's just ridiculous. But I never called my dorm or room at MoHo "home"... Maybe it's because I have an actual apartment here, with my own room, bathroom, and kitchen and living room. Or maybe it's because I feel so comfortable and happy here... Dunno. It's just been on my mind, is all. Random thought!

One Month!

I have officially been in Cork one month today... in some ways I feel like it's only been a week, but in others, like it's been ages. Life's still quite good, and I'm more than happy here. Home is getting pounded by feet of snow, and it was the unofficial first day of spring here- 50 degrees and sunny! I've got another head cold and cough, which I think is going to become the usual state I'm in, regardless of how often I go out. It's just the dampness. In fact, I wasn't feeling very good yesterday- very stuffed up and coughing horrendously. I went out last night, and woke up feeling so much better! Who knows. I'm still putting off going to register with immigration... here's to not getting deported... and Catherine, friend from childhood, is coming to visit for the next few days! I'm waiting for a phone call from her right now, in fact.  Trad session at Rearden's tomorrow should be some good craic. I need to do a post on the music scene here... I'm surprisingly into a few local artists here, and am in the know about where and when there's good music going down. It helps to have musical friends!

The Week of The Old Oak

I missed a week in blogging before I went to Galway, so I'll try to give some quick updates now.  I've discovered my newest favorite pub, the Old Oak, and had some good times there since- we went there 4 out of 5 nights last week! Basically, the Old Oak has mostly of older patrons... there's quite a range of ages, really, but most are in their late 20s and early 30s, up to their 40s and 50s, with a few quite old people in their 70s (it was shocking to see a very old man tottering through the bar at 1:30am the other night...) Usually, my friends and I are the youngest people in there, which probably explains why it's always so entertaining to go there.

The first night I went, I was with my friends Skye and Laura. We were supposed to meet up later with friends at An  Bróg (which is a much younger, crazier crowd), but since we were all still a bit sick and not really up for a crazy night we wanted a more mellow evening. We were about to leave the Old Oak to grudgingly meet our friends at the Bróg, but as we stepped outside, a 40-something and his younger early-30s friend starting chatting up Laura. Skye and I obliged and stayed and chatted as well. Initial conversations with the Irish usually go like this: "Oh, yer American!  Where in America are ye from?  Oh, I've never been there, is that near Canada or New York?" Charming, right? Most of the time, I'm out with a friend from Montana, and if they answer first, it's usually just assumed that I'm from Montana as well, which can be a bit annoying. These guys were pretty nice though, as most Irishmen are, and when they invited us back inside for a pint, we couldn't say no (never turn down a free drink!) Turns out, they were having their office Christmas party, because it had been delayed in December by the snow they had here. It was about ten of us sitting in the pub, and one of the guys we met outside, Eoghan (pronounced Owen...) started buying us drinks. After a while, all the girls in the group left, and it was us three and a bunch of older men. They were all very polite and friendly and charming, typical at this point. Skye and I both had horrendous coughs from being sick, and every time we laughed, would launch into a fit of coughing which, after a few pints, was very amusing, leading to a cycle of laughing, coughing, and laughing at coughing, then more coughing... you see where this is going. We eventually all moved back closer to the main bar and music and dance floor, and one of the guys kept dragging me onto the dance floor. We were basically swing dancing, which was really fun- he would just spin me all over the floor. The bar was closing soon, and as I was coming back from the dance floor, Skye cut me off and proclaimed to me that they were all married! This was a bit of a shock, not because any of us actually liked them, but because as polite as they had been, they were flirting, and how strange to go and hang out with young girls when your wife is at home... We said our goodbyes and laughed our way home.

The next time we went to the Old Oak, (the next night, I think...) it was me and a bunch of my girl friends. Paige and I had gone across the river to Sober Lane (a pub- the name is misleading) to meet Donncha and some of his friends for a pint. After being there for a bit, we headed to the Old Oak. We met a few friends there, and suddenly it was decided that we were going to request a song and dance. Note that at this point, NO ONE is dancing, and that the actual dance floor is more like a stage that faces the bar. So one of us requests Don't Stop Believing, and when it comes on, we storm the stage and start rocking out, singing and dancing like crazy people. At one point, I turned around to face the bar, and saw that EVERYONE was watching us!!! We were the night's entertainment, apparently. The DJ loved us and kept playing good songs, and we continued dancing (by ourselves, with everyone watching) for a good while. Eventually, we got a few more people joining us, and wound up leaving to go to the Brog. But that was quite the night!

The next night, we went again. This time it was just me, Paige, and Skye, and we didn't want to do more than sit and chat and have a pint or two. We all get Bulmer's and find a little booth to sit down in. We were sitting in a room that you have to go through to get to the main part of the bar, so it was a prime people watching location. Although it came to be that we were watched more than we watched... that was a confusing sentence. Basically, we sat and chatted, but were looking at all the people walking by. It was an off night, so there really were no younger people, and we laughed at the older women wearing mini dresses and high high heels. The men, though, were checking us out. I would actually say that every other man that walked past us would slow down and look at us all, and smile, or wink, or do something of that nature. Some actually stopped to try to make conversation, or held eye contact more than was natural, or something of that nature. One guy actually did stop, came over to me, held out his hand and shook mine, and said, "I just had to tell you how beautiful you are". He proceeds to look at Skye sitting next to me, and says, "ah, so are ye", and then to Paige, who is looking at me wide-eyed and laughing, he lifts her chin with his hand and says, "ah, gorgeous". Crazy man! His friends then came over and dragged him away, apologizing for his forwardness. We were very amused. It became the joke of the night how much we were getting hit on.

Another night, we happened upon some live music at the Oak. The band, Recoil, was local, and they were really good. They played covers of songs, all of which we knew. After a pint or two, we were in the front row dancing and shout-singing along to every song. And I wonder why I lose my voice... It was a really fun night, though, and ended with us being invited into the private bar-room to hang out with the band, but awkwardly being kicked out my Old Oak management. Guess they didn't want us to drink for free too! That was the night that I truly became obsessed with the song Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons. It, along with all the other songs, were tons of fun to sing along to.

So that was the week of the Old Oak! Ironically, I haven't really been back there much since then... there is one night we went that has a good story attached to it, though. Some friends and I had gone out to watch our friend Gabriel sing at a 23s club, and decided to go to Old Oak afterward. I had to run back to my flat first, though, so when I came back I was alone. There were two doormen there, both older guys in their 50s probably, and one other guy promoting for the Oak. I have my ID ready, and hand it to one of them. Without a word or even looking at it, he puts it in his back pocket... I'm a little confused at first, but quickly realize he's just messing with me (he probably recognized me from that past week, ha). I proceed to give him a look, and then just stand off to the side and start making small talk about the weather. The promoter asks if I'm a doorman now to, and I make a crack about how my brother was a bouncer, so it must run in the family. They're very amused that I'm responding to their little joke like this, and we probably stood and chatted for a few minutes at least while other people come and go from the pub. Finally, I was getting a little chilly and anxious for a pint, so I asked if I could get my license back. He goes oh what, this? But you gave it to me! I told him I just thought he might want to look at it, but don't look too closely because the picture is terrible (it really is....) this of course prompts him to get it out of his pocket and look at it, laugh, and show it to the other doorman, who also laughs. He hands it back to me, and I bid them adieu and go into the pub. The next few nights, whenever I walk by and one of them is there, I wave, and they wave back. We went back to the Oak a few nights later, and as we're sitting waiting for a not-so-good band to finish and the DJ to start, in walks one of the doormen! He sees me and waves, and later in the night we formally introduce ourselves and chat for a bit. I've made a friend! Last Wednesday, I walked by kind of late at night with Donncha, and Ken was outside the Oak. I of course stopped to chat for a bit, and he gave me a look like 'what are you doing with this guy...' to which I just laughed. Good times.

Love the Old Oak!!!