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Days 200 & 201 |
Days 197-199/~200Counting down the days to my return to the United States is unsettling. I watched 200-something days turn into 2-3 in the blink of an eye. It has all gone a little too fast for my liking, a theme that seems to be constantly reoccurring despite my consistent efforts not to let my life slip through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.
In my final few days, it's been a mess of sorting out all of the logistics: who's picking me up from the airport? would vacuum bags be a good idea for packing? do I need to pay for checked baggage? what does my final day at work look like? who's cleaning the apartment? That aside, I tried to prioritize my lingering enjoyment for Ireland and all that it had brought to me during the time that I spent here. I may not get to stay forever and I may need to say goodbye to my friends for now, but at least I got one last Beef and Guinness Pie and a couple more late nights filled with laughter and good company. |
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Day 196/~200I think there's something to be said about goodbyes beyond the idea that they are hard. Sure, they never feel good - it's never easy to let go of the things you'd prefer to hold onto so tightly. However, I think first goodbyes are much harder than the following ones. At first, it's pretty easy to think, "God, I might never see them again". But as soon as you meet another time, something gets put at ease. It's a sort of promise that goodbyes aren't forever and that somehow, some day, you will eventually meet again even if you miss them in the mean time.
When I left Finland, I was horrified of not being able to return or see the people that I love so dearly for quite some time. I didn't like the idea that our digital communication was all we would have and that something like that across such a ridiculous time zone difference can prove to be so detrimental. I didn't want that friendship to fade. It was nothing short of a blessing that two of my dearest friends were able to come visit me in Ireland, and with that comes something that I can take solace in: This is but a temporary absence. Even if it's not right now, or even in the near future, I know that nothing is going to change. I know that when I do finally get the opportunity to return to Turku that I will be welcome with open arms almost as if I'd never left. It'll be like going home all over again. |
Days 194-195/~200Our next stop was Belfast, another guided tour thanks to Wild Rover. The city is a beautiful yet torn place with some bloody history to boot. Elina and I were driven from one place in the city to another via a black taxi (since we chose this over the Titanic museum), the driver (our tour guide) detailed Belfast's unfortunate past to us at each stop along the way - painting an unreal picture of the problems that have existed and those that still remain.
We made a brief stop at Dunluce Castle (aka Castle Pyke from Game of Thrones), before reaching the climax of our adventure: Giant's Causeway - an incredible natural wonder of volcanic activity that forms the stones into hexagons. I had a little too much fun climbing around on the rocks (pretty sure it's the right amount of fun, really). Riding that awe to our final stop, we crossed an old rope bridge together and got rained on before a long trek back to Dublin. I'm just happy I brought my Polaroid along. |
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In comparison to the day prior, our last full day together was quite relaxed. We spent the day moseying to the parts of Dublin that remained at least partly unexplored from our initial adventure, and shopped for some souvenirs. It was nice to have a slow paced and low energy day to finish things off right.
We stopped for lunch at O'Connells and I had a mouth-watering lamb stew. This was immediately followed up by a treat from The Rolling Donut. I'm surprised that none of us fell into an immediate food coma. In fact, I'm more surprised that Toni and Elina ended the night by cooking a delicious macaroni and cheese casserole (to share with my roommates and myself) and I still ate some without exploding (or crying). Threats of coming goodbyes plagued the rest of the night, so we made the best of what time remained by keeping each other in good company and sharing memories. If I'd have had a say in the matter, I think the following morning could have waited much longer to arrive. |
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Days 191-193/~200There's never a shortage of music in Dublin (in Ireland as a whole, really). I've said it before, and I'll reiterate, that it's absolutely everywhere. So, after little deliberation, we decided to pop into a popular and highly regarded local pub for some drinks and to enjoy some music.
The Celt was alive with the sound of conversation, bubbling with energy. My cider, as was usual, was a delicious way to sip my night away. It wasn't long before a couple of local artists set up shop and performed. Toni had a question for the man with the guitar and they got to "shooting the shit" - by the end of it, the singer was dedicating his next song to his new found Finnish friend and his Wisconsin companion (that's me). He even thanked us for our tips in Finnish. What are the odds? |
I don't really like being in airports. I think they're sorta stressful and overwhelming if not exhausting and droll. I've traveled enough at this point to know that I would rather be leaving an airport than arriving to one. However, it's an entirely different feeling when you eagerly await the arrival of someone.
For the second time, I strolled into the Dublin airport after a bus ride that took much too long and waited with baited breath for my friend Elina to walk through the arrival doors. As soon as I spotted her I waddled my way through the crowd and ran to her. When she saw me, she let out a small gasp of excitement and we crashed into one another, a lovely reunion embrace. The rest of our night was spent doing a crash course sight-seeing tour of the entire city. It was a lot of walking, but it was the easiest way I could think of to fit as much as possible into a sadly short weekend. There's so much to see and so much to do that it would be a shame to miss out on anything. Unfortunately, that's the nature of traveling - picking and choosing your battles and resigning yourself to the fact that you'll simply have to return to be able to see it all. |
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Day 190/~200It was inevitable that at some point I would want to drag Toni with me to all of the gorgeous places I'd seen. So, we took the train up to Howth for a hike and to get some dinner. The weather was nice, our hike was nicer (despite my asthma), and we even found some pretty funny (and relateable) street signs along the way.
Our night was to end with a delicious Beef and Guinness Pie from O'Connells Bar, but they informed us immediately that they had run out due to a particularly busy lunch rush. It's a shame that Toni wasn't able to experience such a lovely, Irish dish, but dinner wasn't a lost cause. For the first time in my working memory, I had a cheeseburger. That's not to say that I don't eat burgers. In fact, I eat them quite regularly. I just don't ever get cheese on them. Given that this whole experience was a series of wonderful firsts, why stop at something as trivial as a cheeseburger? It was delicious. |
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Day 189/~200Monday evening, we wandered across town only to find ourselves in the basement of The Stag's Head for a comedy event. This was my first time at a stand up show. After my experience here, I'm happy to say that I'd love to see many more in the future. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a while.
Incidentally, I ran into someone I went to high school with here. Our ISA adviser was talking to a couple of students, asking if they needed chairs. When I looked up, I saw someone who looked eerily familiar. I brushed it off until I heard her (that same girl, who was now sitting up front near the stage) say to one of the comedians that she was from Wisconsin. At that point, I figured that this had to be one massive coincidence - there was no way in hell I could know her. During the intermission, I wandered over just to see if it was her (fully prepared, mind you, to be embarrassed that it wasn't). When I tapped her on the shoulder, I asked her what high school she attended and her eyes widened, jaw dropped, and within seconds we were squeezing each other tight gawking over the fact that the world is so small. |
Days 187-188/~200The next stop on our many adventures was Galway. It was a long but easy train ride across the country (albeit early), from one coast to another. It's amazing how traveling such a seemingly short distance can result in such a significant change (apparently there are seven different accents in Dublin alone, not to count the rest of the country). Galway was alive in every way. We wandered the streets a while, watching street performers dance and sing, skimmed the shops of a pop-up craft and food market, and then parked ourselves by the canal to enjoy the sun and make a bit of music of our own. Next was a trip to the beach where I not only took off my pants in public to wade into the water but got to see my first, live jellyfish! When we checked into our AirBnB, it was like having a little Irish family of our own (we were basically treated as though we were these people's children, in a good way). It was a temporary, cozy place to call home during our stay. We were encouraged to hit the town and I think we found a bit more than we bargained for when we wound up at a small carnival. Even though we missed the sunset, I'd bet that we were all content enough with what we got: life.
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First thing in the morning, our AirBnB hosts went through the trouble of providing a delicious, traditional breakfast for us. They even drove us to the bus station so we could make it to our bus on time. (I have their business card if anyone's ever looking to stay in Galway).
It was quite unfortunate that our bus ride was long and bumpy since it led to some mild (or severe for some of us) bus sickness, but the sickness melted away pretty quick upon arrival. The infamous Cliffs of Moher were a sight like no other. I'd heard many a thing about the Cliffs, specifically that they are one of Ireland's most well known landmarks (and I can see why). I was captivated immediately by the steep drop into the crashing, blue waves below. It wasn't vertigo inducing so much as entirely awe inducing. We were lucky enough to spend the better part of the day hiking along the cliffside, pausing only to take a few photos. At the end of the day, I don't think pictures really do it justice and neither does a brief day trip. I wish we would have had some more time to complete a full hike. |
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Day 186/~200I am constantly reminded that there is a wealth of talent and skill in our world and it comes in an awesome variety. The world championships of street performances began Friday (today, and will continue through the weekend) at Marion Square in downtown Dublin. Everything from comedy acts involving crazy stunts to magicians, men withstanding incredible feats of pain, sword swallowers, and musical based acts. Nothing beats being able to sit in the sun and enjoy a good show.
At this point, I've hit the home stretch of my internship. I'm like 2/3rds of the way done, and only have a couple more weeks to go. Something about that is incredibly terrifying. You'd think after this long I'd be itching to go home, but I'm really not ready for it just yet (I don't think so anyways). Dublin's where I need to be right now, and I'm going to be sad to have to say goodbye. |
Day 185/~200It was a long time coming, but it finally happened: One of my Finns came for a visit! At first, it was just a tempting (admittedly taunting) idea, but it soon developed into a full blown plan. Days were set, tickets were booked, and then it was only a matter of counting down the days until arrival. Collecting him from the airport was pretty surreal but without a doubt it was relieving to have a piece of Finland back within my grasp. There was no denying that I was (have been and will be) homesick for my apartment in Turku and had been struggling without the adventure crew I'd grown so used to (not to say that my Dublin crew wasn't enough, but I definitely missed my friends from Turku). Now, it was my turn to take the reins and show him a thing or two about Ireland. I can't say that I'm your resident expert, but I at least (sorta) know where I'm going.
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Day 184/~200One thing about being abroad that has proved to be hard is feeding myself well. I've found that I stray away from eating out and cook, but this limits the amount of local food I end up eating. Furthermore, it prompts me to be lazy. I cook in bulk and live on the same five foods for months. It's been a pretty boring and tedious process overall. So, I was due for a change.
Bull and Castle is a local steak shop that not only gives off a pretty relaxed atmosphere but they also have some of the best steak I've ever eaten. It was nice to take on a large order and stuff myself until I felt like I'd be rolling out of the restaurant instead of walking if only for the fact that I was growing really sick and tired of eating the same old things. I went home with a happy stomach and newfound motivation to cook and eat with variety. |
Days 182-183/~200I began to realize recently that I started to take my work home with me. It wasn't that I was experiencing difficulties at work and carrying those troubles out the door, but rather that I was learning more than I was teaching and had plenty of new strategies to implement in my life to enforce positive changes in my relationships with others and myself. It really feels like Coolmine is exactly where I needed to end up (especially since the whole purpose of my time abroad was to develop myself as a person).
In other news, I finally had a cheeseburger. This seemed to shock a lot more people than I was expecting. Up to this point in my life I ate my burgers relatively plain (maybe lettuce, maybe onions, probably bacon, but no cheese or sauces/condiments). I don't really know why I decided to take the risk, but I ordered cheeseburger sliders from Eddie Rocket's. Some people may think I was missing out for all that time, I just like to think of it as if I got around to it exactly when it was right for me to do so. |
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Days 175-181/~200After a sad bout of "not enough people signed up for this tour, so we're cancelling it but you can transfer your ticket to a different day!", Terri and myself decided to take on the challenge of Northern Ireland's Stairway to Heaven. The drive there was scenic enough (and I'm pretty sure our driver pretty much got us lost in the countryside on roads that were far too narrow for a mini-bus), but it was nothing in comparison to the hike.
It was over a mile to even get to the actual beginning of the trail, but wow did it blow me away. We crossed rivers, hopped fences, and spent way too much time going uphill on a boardwalk over a bog only to be swallowed by a fog that engulfed the entire mountain. Once we'd reached the top, I was astounded to see a place that looked more like a graveyard than heaven. It was other-worldly. Sadly, after perusing around at the top for several minutes, we were forced to begin our descent in the interest of time. Nine miles later, we were back on the bus with legs so sore we could barely walk. Good thing I got to sleep through the altitude sickness on the way home. |
I've never been much of an actual gambler. I like my occasional scratch off card and mom used to buy us things like PowerBall when the jackpot was really high (more-so just to amuse us and less because we have any hope of winning), but I've never placed a bet that meant anything more than something between friends.
Before my arrival at the racetrack, I was told to bet all my money on number 13 (a suggestion I was willing to take seriously because I consider 13 to be my lucky number). However, there was no way I was about to risk money I didn't have in hopes of a cheap thrill. In reality, I find animal racing to be a fairly cruel practice because it's so common for animals to be mistreated in those spaces. I felt a bit weird agreeing to go to a horse race, but I was willing to suspend my own opinions for the sake of cultural immersion. We stayed for all of the races (which weren't particularly exciting beyond making our guesses about who would win), enjoyed some snacks, and admired some gorgeous horses. Funny enough, number 13 did win the final race - suffice it to say that hindsight is always 20/20. |
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Days 168-174/~200Beyond the usual "I'm in Ireland and I love my job!" hype, this week was particularly special and exciting. It started off with a casual meeting with the ISA staff to check in with us regarding our internships. Snacks were provided (of which I ate a significant portion of them) and we even got to watch a game of cricket on Trinity College's cricket pitch.
Once evening fell, I ventured downtown to the George (the local gay bar/club) for an event called Win, Lose, or Drag. People in the crowd went on stage to do challenges and win prizes, drag queens performed intermittently, and the night was topped off with a lovely performance by Lucy Spraggan. This was, for me at least, the beginning of Dublin's Pride Week in celebration of Gay Pride Month. This was only one of many events throughout the city, all of which worked together to create a positive, loving, and proud environment. Needless to say, I was thriving. |
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It saddens me to say that I began to think of Dublin as home at a time that felt like it was far too late to start thinking that way. When I say that, I mean that Dublin began to feel like home but my program was already about halfway done. I walked familiar streets, saw familiar people, and began to really know my way around. I was getting entirely adjusted to my new routine, and growing used to having a new set of friends whom I could think of as family (albeit temporary). I had started utilizing a lot of the colloquial language. I felt as though I began to be less of a tourist and more of a local.
What I hadn't realized at the beginning of this whole journey was how hard it was going to be adjusting to living in a new country again. It felt like I had only gotten a handle on living in Finland and then it was torn out of my hands and I was thrust into completely different circumstances. For a long while, I felt lost and disoriented. I think that's another reason why I was so excited for Pride, it was a space where I could really get stuck in and ride on the good vibes. |
Whatever potentially negative thoughts had been creeping about in my head were quickly pushed aside. After work, we took an unfortunately lovely trip to Lush (a store I struggle to walk into and leave without buying anything from) where we got an excellent dinner recommendation from an employee. I can never pass up a good burger, so when I heard it was one of the better places in town to grab one I was all in. After a bite to eat, we went to PantiBar where an LGBT+ group of musicians would be performing some traditional music. Someone even took on the trouble of teaching some of the crowd how to do a really simple Irish dance.
The next night I took a trip to the headquarters of the Transgender Equality Network of Ireland (TENI) to volunteer my time and make some signs for Pride. With a group of extremely lovely people (including 2 other Sams), I contributed some paint and marker art to a sign to recognize the organization. I got a little stuck when it came to my own sign, but I had some ideas cooking up that were to be put into the making soon enough. |
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The real warm up to Pride festivities was a night at Street 66. We went with the intention of watching a drag show, but we were a bit mislead but the description of the event. What ended up happening was that a drag queen was dj'ing for the evening. We wound up having quite a lengthy conversation with a couple of inebriated Irish women. I can't say that I'm entirely sure why they chose to speak to us other than the fact that we stuck out like a sore thumb (as Americans usually do). Despite this, I can't say that I didn't enjoy the conversation we had. Eventually, though, words were drowned in music and we spent a good portion of the evening dancing.
Nights like these make me a little nostalgic for Madison. I'm reminded of late nights in the city streets, singing songs we don't know all the words to as we walk our way back to Edgewood from a long night at Plan B. I can say with honesty that I miss it, at the very least to a small degree, but still I lack pure homesickness. |
Finally, the day had arrived. After a week filled with tastes of greater proverbial fruit, I was ready to go all out. Donning plenty of colorful apparel, the lot of us went to meet the parade by St. Stephen's Green. We parked ourselves on an island in the middle of the road and joined in the shouts and cheers of those marching past. I held a sign of my own, proud to be standing where I was while surrounded with such lovely people. "Treat yourself like you're worth it" - a sign that several people stopped to take pictures of (shamelessly my aim). Float after float, corporation after corporation, organization after organization, all of which flooded the pavement in waves of supporters. Eventually, we joined the crowd and marched with the parade across Dublin to Smithfield Square. Smithfield was alive with music and plenty of people to boot. Over the course of the afternoon, quest speakers took the stage, local LGBT+ musical artists played, and there were performances from local drag queens. I couldn't ask for a better way to spend a Saturday.
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Riding the good mood from Pride, I carried my smile with me to Bray. Even though I'd been running around all week and had been on my feet all day for Pride, it was a beautiful day for a hike and there was no way I was going to pass that up. Our adventure started with a steep climb up to a large stone cross off the coast of Bray. The view from the top was incredible, but it was getting there that was the hardest part. I'm consistently reminded that I need an inhaler to ease the weight of these situations on my body. I suppose the bigger danger was less-so my own lungs and more-so the strong breeze that nearly sent us flying off the top of the hill.
From Bray, we took a gorgeous coastal hike to Greystones. Funny enough, when we finally got to Greystones and were on our way to catch the train back to Dublin, I saw one of the Sam's I met at TENI. Turns out, he's on his way to Norway with a troop of (basically) boy scouts. To lend a helping hand and satisfy my own selfish need for a sugar boost, we bought some sweets to eat on the way back. |
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Days 161-167/~200One of the more recommended tours in Dublin is Kilmainham Jail. After being taken on a riveting tour through the jail, I can understand why. The walls ooze history and tragedy. Kailmainham is known for its terrible conditions, especially around the time of the Great Hunger (aka the Famine). Women, men, and children were crammed together in small cells. Prisoners weren't separated by severity of crime even, so murderers and petty thieves lived together. During the Great Hunger, many people actually preferred being in the prison because they were guaranteed one meal per day which was a much better set of circumstances than the outside world had to offer. Kilmainham is most well known for housing and executing the leaders of the 1916 rebellion, an incident which eventually led to the uniting of the Irish people to fight for (and subsequently gain) their independence from Great Britain.
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After being able to go swimming in Greece, I had been aching for another day at the beach. So, once the sun decided that it wanted to shine, the crew and I took advantage of the opportunity to head up to Dollymount Beach. The breeze was warm and dusted my skin with salt water, the beach was lively, and the water wasn't even that cold (especially not compared to Greece).
I'd love to say that I ran to the sea as if it was an old friend and dove in headlong, but I'd only be kidding myself. As my usual fashion, I waded in nice and slow to get used to the chills running up my legs. Once you were in and moving about it was actually a comfortable temperature, all things considered. I spent the bulk of my day treading water, letting the waves gently rock my body. I found myself crawling toward the shore if only to enjoy the warmth of the shallows. Sooner or later though, it was time to dry off and head back towards home. I count myself as lucky since I didn't get roasted by the sun again (but I was smart and actually used sun screen this time around). |
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Days 155-160/~200Hurling is Ireland's national sport and has been described as a brutal mix of lacrosse, field hockey, baseball, and rugby (originally someone said "cage fighting" as well). I wasn't so sure that I believed the intense rumors I had been hearing, but as soon as I saw a match I was awed. As a sport, hurling puts all other sports to shame by way of its violent and fast paced nature. It is notorious for sending players to the hospital with broken bones and concussions. What's more, is that they only started requiring the players to wear helmets within recent years. Before then, players had no protection what-so-ever. The aim of the game is to get the ball across the field and either hit it above the H-shaped goal for one point or score a goal past the goalie for three points. The team with the most points at the end wins (obviously), but I don't suppose they factor in how many players leave the game with injuries of all natures.
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We were quite fortunate since we were able to sit and watch three hurling matches in a row (cup final games as well). Toward the beginning of the second game, some little boys sat in the row in front of us. This didn't seem odd to me given that the sport is quite popular among locals, but I was surprised to learn that the boys (who were likely no older than eight) were not only fans but athletes in the sport themselves. It was evident once I noticed that the boys' fingernails were black and blue.
The man that sat beside us was their coach and he explained to us that the boys had been playing since they were about five years old. This man was also a former hurling player and he told us that he had broken all of his fingers during his time on the field. It should be no surprise to learn that this sport intrigued me to no end and I strongly considered buying a hurley (the stick/bat like object used in the game) to take home with me. I even looked into learning how to play at a local Gaelic sports club. It is my hope that I will be able to catch some games in Madison once I return (unfortunately it will not be anywhere near as intense). |
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Day 154/~200Monday's bank holiday turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It gave me a much needed break from work to really process the job that I was doing and ground myself, but it was also a beautiful day to head out into the town and do some exploring. Dublin's Riverfront Festival was happening down by the port, so a friend and I ventured across town to find out what all the hype was about. I knew as soon as I saw ships parked along the Liffey's edge and heard the music pumping that I was in for a good time. Through street performances, water shows, and a quick swing ride I felt a familiar sense of child-like wonder. On the way home, we stopped for a bite to eat (a delicious Cottage Pie) and dessert (a wonderful apple pie donut from The Rolling Donut). There's nothing like having a simple, fun day to remind you that life is good.
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Day 153/~200Given that I work five days a week (with weekends off), I tend to be unable to enjoy a lot of Dublin during the daytime (during the week at least), but I do get to see some of Dublin's night life. Recently, a friend and I took a stroll in the night time along the River Liffey. Perhaps it was simply the occasion of the long weekend that everyone was going to a party in the port, but the streets were flooded with people all going the same direction. It was a bit strange to watch, like I was going the wrong way. I suppose that it was weirder to see so many people braving the rain (sure, it let up eventually, but still). My friend and I took the time to go puddle hopping and people watch on one of the bridges, enjoying the sound of the water passing underneath while lights danced along the surface.
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Day 152/~200I don't think it would be fair of me to say that I'm in Ireland solely for working purposes. I most definitely had a personal agenda when I chose to travel here, so in all fairness to myself I think I deserve a nice day doing touristy things from time to time. So, despite being fairly exhausted from my first week at my internship (in my defense, I get up at 7am every day), it was time for a day-trip. The plan was to get up early (of course) and head into town (coincidentally near to my workplace) to catch a bus. Wild Rover Tours is a local tour bus company that leads three different tours throughout Ireland, one of which we were about to embark on. These days trips are pretty action packed but reasonably priced - happy students, happy tourists, happy wallets all around.
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After a lengthy bus ride through the Irish country-side, we arrived at our first destination of the day: Kilkenny. Kilkenny is known as the medieval capital of Ireland, and given that a castle was our first real sight to see upon arrival I can't say that I disagree with that statement. Our short-lived walking tour started at Kilkenny Castle, where Ireland's first and only witch was burned at the stake. Following this, we took the butter slip (where the butter venders used to sell butter since the temperature in the alley was more or less the same all year round and the butter wouldn't melt) to a witch's house (the actual woman who stood accused but escaped being tried and burned at the stake at the castle by paying off a guard, but rumor has it that she turned into a cat and slipped away silently into the night). The tour guide left us at the city walls, where Irish Town was separated from the rest of the city (back in the day, the Irish were seen as peasants and weren't allowed in the city). From here, we ventured to the Chuch of St. Canice and the Black Abbey before poking our heads into some shops and hopping back onto the bus to continue our adventure.
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I did everything I could to stay awake while we were on the bus. I kept my eyes peeled out the windows, trying to take in as much of the scenery as possible. I remember having a moment where I thought, "Wow, this place really is green." Rolling emerald hills lined with bright forests and low, dark valleys - Ireland truly is gorgeous.
On our way through the Wicklow mountains, we crossed a bridge that is known for being in the movie P.S. I Love You. It's a small, stone bridge in the middle of a valley on a winding road through the mountains. I would never have guessed its significance without being told. Our next pit stop was a brief pause in the Wicklow Mountain Gap, a large rift through the mountains that seemed to cut straight through the hills into the horizon. Despite the bit of wind and the drop in temperature here, we lingered a long moment to appreciate the awe inducing views. Had it not been for the fact that we were on a bit of a time crunch, I would have loved to stay and take a hike through the hills here. |
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Next was Glendalough, a small town situated nearby the Wicklow Mountain Gap. We began our brief tour in a graveyard. Wading through the headstones, we came upon the second round tower that we encountered that day. As it turns out, the purpose of the tower was to protect nearby residents and their belongings from viking attacks.
Further in the graveyard is a worn down church and a tall cross. The Christians of old Ireland were quite devious and had many ways of converting Pagans. They used to have a sacred Pagan stone built into the wall of the church and they would only allow the Pagans to touch the stone if they stayed for Christian mass. A short hike away are two different lakes, the upper and the lower. We took the time to make the trek and enjoy ourselves by the water. I took it upon myself to find a couple of good climbing trees amidst the forest and scamper around in the branches. I suppose some things never change. |
Our final destination before heading back home was Annamoe. In Annamoe, we arrived at a sheep farm where we were to witness a sheep dog at work. A farmer taught us a bit about sheep, what it takes for a dog to be a herder, and the wool industry. Unfortunately, wool is not in high demand at the moment, so many farmers who rely on wool as one of their primary export are struggling quite a bit.
With a sharp whistle, the farmer sent his dog into the field to round up the sheep. He had them herded into a small pen so that we could pet them, see the different kinds of sheep, learn what the different markings on the wool meant, and so he could show us the newest lamb. Afterwards, he released them and showed us how different pitches of whistles mean different things and instructed the dog to do all sorts of complicated things to move and separate the sheep. It takes a lot to be a sheep dog, and it is readily apparent from the moment they start to move. It is truly an incredible thing to watch such a smart animal at work. The puppy that was following the farmer around for the entirety of the demonstration has quite big "shoes" to fill in the future. |
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I can't say that I believe that everything happens for a reason, but I can definitely say that I heard Ireland calling my name from across the stormy seas. I knew from the very start that I needed to come here sooner or later. The whole point of me studying abroad and interning abroad was that I thought I would find myself somewhere out in the world, and as it turns out I'm finding little pieces of myself all over the place. It has less to do with the places I've been and more to do with how those places have left an impression on me just like I left my fingerprints everywhere I've been. It's probably only coincidence that I keep seeing my name all over Dublin. In fact, it's definitely only coincidence that some business names share their name with me, but I will take what I can get by way of a "sign" showing that I was meant to be here.
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Days 146-151/~200After what felt like quite the wait, the ISA crew (myself included) finally moved into our respective apartments. Sure, they aren't the most luxurious accommodations but they're much better than I had been expecting all things considered (completed with a washer/drier, my own bathroom, and a reasonably well stocked kitchen space). It felt nice to have my bearings in my own space again. One thing I hate about being in places like hotels or hostels is the idea that eating out or buying non-cook meals is the only way to keep yourself well fed. I like being able to cook meals in advance or prepare something nice after a long day. Can't exactly do that when you don't have a kitchen (even if the Clayton BallsBridge was a pretty sweet place). It took a bit of cleaning and unpacking before this place really felt like a home (albeit temporary), but my roommates and I were able to band together and make this place our own with what we had (even if it meant finding some weird stuff in the closet).
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Once we had settled into our apartments on move-in day, we didn't exactly catch a break before we were shipped off to work. The very next morning, I was on my way down the River Liffey to get to my workplace: Coolmine Therapeutic Community. The first day(s) was (were) sort of a blur. It was an excited haze of information coming in all at once, so naturally it was a lot to process, but here's what I got...
Coolmine is a drug and alcohol treatment facility that has both day programs and residential facilities (for men and women respectively). All of these places work via therapeutic community models and use the community reinforcement approach in order to function properly. This means that the clients are the primary driving force behind the whole operation - it doesn't work if they aren't invested and doing their part. It's nothing like I've ever seen before despite the fact that this model was developed in the US for Vietnam veterans. Between Coolmine House (my main place of employment), Ashleigh House (the women's residential), and the Lodge (the men's residential), I've been absolutely blown away both by the system and the people I've encountered and had the pleasure of interacting with. |
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Near the end of a long first week, the ISA crew got together at The Cobblestone to share a drink in celebration of Stephanye's birthday! The Cobblestone is a local hot spot to hang out during the evening, and it has nothing to do with the drinks - the bar doesn't serve food. People here are drawn together with the promise of beautiful, traditional music. Unlike many bars in the area (specifically ones like Temple Bar), The Cobblestone doesn't pay musical artists to come in and perform - it isn't a tourist attraction. Tourists and locals alike frequent this pub to enjoy a pint and some lovely music in an authentic atmosphere. The artists that arrive are there of their own volition and play because they enjoy it, because they can, and because the bar will serve them free drinks while they play. One after another they come in, join one another, and the magic begins.
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Day 145/~200If there's anything I was mentally but not actually prepared for about being in Ireland, it's the rain. It didn't start off too bad, tolerable sprinkles, but it eventually developed into a steady, consistent rain. Needless to say, I was soaked by the time I arrived back at the hotel to spend the rest of my evening kicked back and recuperating.
But, there was no shortage of adventure, even if the weather wasn't great. A group of us went to the National Museum of Irish Natural History, followed by a trip to the National Gallery of Ireland. Both of these museums were bursting with things to see, it was just a matter of navigating the places that were open to the public. We spent a couple of hours appreciating all of the artistry (literally and otherwise) of these places, before we dared to brave the rain for lunch. The burrito I ate at Mama's Revenge was probably the largest I have ever eaten (probably one of the tastiest too), and the conversation we had while packed around a small table in the downstairs dining area psyched me up to move into our apartments the following day. |
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Days 142-144/~200Arriving in Dublin was like something out of a dream that I'd had far too many times for this one to be real. Breaking through the clouds on our descent to the airport, everything the light touched was green and very much alive. It may have taken me forever to get through passport security and I may have cut my arrival deadline a little close, but I made it to exactly where I needed to go with a fond "It's across the street, love" from the bus driver as I stepped off and gathered my bags. Turning around, I found the gorgeous building seen to the left and muttered to myself, "No way." Perhaps it was the reality of not being in Finland anymore, or perhaps I really was altogether shocked that I finally made it to Ireland after all this time. The rest of the first day was a blur of noise from our Bridging Cultures Program (BCP) straight through to our dinner and our trek back to the hotel. Nothing really sank in until I crashed into bed early and woke up the next morning to find myself still in Dublin.
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The next day was a bit more lucid. With some rest under my belt it was easier to get my bearings with the BCP and the buses, and I was finally starting to process everything that I was seeing instead of relying solely on my legs to take me where I needed to go. Perfect timing considering we took a walking tour of Dublin that afternoon.
We met our guide in the square of Trinity College. Though I can't remember most of what he told us, it was during our walk around that I began to fall in love with Dublin and just how beautiful it is. As we trekked to Dublin Castle, our guide made sure to place a lot of emphasis on the importance of stories, especially surrounding historical figures. It seems that many things about this place are entirely fabricated or based very loosely on the truth. But, as our guide said, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story." We ended the tour at St. Patrick's Cathedral, the largest of its kind in all of Ireland. Afterwards, we parted ways and coincidentally got lost walking off the map. This is when we stumbled upon the EatYard, a place where food trucks had set up in an alley and created a warm environment for people to come, sit, and eat together. It was a long walk back, but our stomachs were full and we were happy albeit a little sore. |
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The last day of our BCP, I did a little more talking than I was expecting to. Our last conversation was about culture shock, and as someone who experienced both it and reverse culture shock so recently (and because I took a class on it this past semester), I turned out to be a good source of information.
There was no time to linger on these thoughts, though. Today we went to Howth, a city north of Dublin that is practically an island. Here, we met up with another guide who led us on a hike into the cliffs. She wasn't all stories and random facts like our last guide, but she knew plenty about the trails we took and was kind enough to snap plenty of photos of our group as we went. The cliffs were gorgeous enough simply by sight, but hearing the water crash against the rocks far below was simply fantastic. It was such a calming, relieving thing to be back in the thick of it, in nature. But, it was just as much of a relief to take a seat and enjoy a meal among new friends. I don't reckon I've ever had a more delicious after-hike meal (Beef and Guinness Pie with mashed potatoes and a bottle of Irish Apple Cider), even though I'm pretty sure it put me into a food coma for most of the way back to the hotel. |