I appreciate those comments I have received already from Karen, Mr. Graham and others. I have just made it easier to leave comments by not requiring you to sign up for blogger.com in order to leave a comment. I would really like to know if you are reading my blog, what you think, and if you have any suggestions on things to blog about in the future, or any questions about my time here. And, for those past teachers, or friends that are now editors (I hope you are reading this JD) if they would like to comment on my grammar or something that would be great too. I was really excited when I saw that Mr. Graham had commented, but being a past English professor I was self-conscious about my potentially bad grammar. I actually went back to correct some grammar mistakes on a few posts. I had to my sure my blog looked a little more professional since it was gaining a wider and more erudite audience!
Oh and you can now email posts to friends if you want to spread the word about the blog! Just click on the little envelope icon below the post et voila!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
I am grateful.
Early this morning, while drinking an espresso and eating a pain au chocolat, still in the spirit of gratitude, I thought about the joy I had in the life I was able to experience. I was taking my espresso at an extremely touristy café at St. Michel on a Sunday morning. This is the kind of thing every true Parisian avoids like the plague. However, I needed an espresso, so I took a seat. I noticed that the only people around me were from everywhere but France. There is no doubt, had I been on vacation, I would have been sat right there as well, and in fact have sat in places like that all of Europe, and the Americas. And, so often, I was just a tourist peering just over breakfast trying to catch a glimpse of what life was like living in a totally different culture. This is the curse of the tourist. They get to see a place and they in most cases (especially Paris for me) they get just enough to know that they want more. They want to know more than just what Mona Lisa looks like in person. They want to know what it is like to walk past the Louvre and around a corner to that little place off the main street that has the best baguettes in the city. They want to know what it is like to be a fixture at the café on the corner that may not even be the best coffee in the world, or the best food in the world, but it is there that they are a regular. It is there they do some of their best thinking and maybe even their truest loneliness. But, it is a place that they go day in and day out no matter what life has thrown their way, because it is their café and it is there that they are comfortable. They know when it is open and when it is closed (this is actually quite a difficult task in France, and quite frustrating for a foreigner). Although I was sat in a touristy cafe and this was not my regular café, I was beginning to learn after several months what it was like to actually live out these dreams and begin to answer the question, "what would it be like if I lived there?"
I was quite thankful this morning in that moment because God has given me the opportunity to begin to answer that question. He has given me the protection and strength to walk through the toughest parts fo the answer of that question. He has given me hope in the loneliest hours that this too shall pass. He has filled me with wonder and awe at the seemingly simplest things, but the simplest things that you only get to experience when you actually live in a foreign country where they don't speak your language or follow your customs. You realize that not only is your house not the center of the world, but neither is your city, your state, your country or even your own language. You are in a place where you have to work to be understood and heard. It does not come easily or naturally but with time and patience it can come. With strength and hope from God your Creator you can begin to speak and, even more love in a way you never thought possible because you have become less and God has become more. I know this may not be the experience of all expatriates, but it has certainly been mine. Its not that I even asked God to show me these things but he has done because he is good and he does love. The hardest part that I have with even writing that last sentence is that I can only begin to understand what these things truly mean. It is greater than my small short-sided egocentric versions of them. It is for all these things and many more that I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving.
I was quite thankful this morning in that moment because God has given me the opportunity to begin to answer that question. He has given me the protection and strength to walk through the toughest parts fo the answer of that question. He has given me hope in the loneliest hours that this too shall pass. He has filled me with wonder and awe at the seemingly simplest things, but the simplest things that you only get to experience when you actually live in a foreign country where they don't speak your language or follow your customs. You realize that not only is your house not the center of the world, but neither is your city, your state, your country or even your own language. You are in a place where you have to work to be understood and heard. It does not come easily or naturally but with time and patience it can come. With strength and hope from God your Creator you can begin to speak and, even more love in a way you never thought possible because you have become less and God has become more. I know this may not be the experience of all expatriates, but it has certainly been mine. Its not that I even asked God to show me these things but he has done because he is good and he does love. The hardest part that I have with even writing that last sentence is that I can only begin to understand what these things truly mean. It is greater than my small short-sided egocentric versions of them. It is for all these things and many more that I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving.
The Expatriate Thanksiving in Paris
As you may have guessed, my actual post dates don't necessarily correspond to the dates the events described actually occur. That is why I will have to posts today centered on the topic of Thanksgiving, but the events they described happened on two different days. The first post about Thanksgiving happened on the day. What I will describe in this post happened last night and into this morning.
As you already know (my egocentricity dominates my writings in this blog... I automatically assume that you have read the previous post), I spent this Thanksgiving away from home. I was extremely grateful for the French families invitation to dinner, but it was still Thanksgiving and I hadn't any turkey. So, when my buddy Brendan texted me to tell me that a bunch of American assistants were getting together to celebrate Thanksgiving on Saturday night, I told him I was definitely in.
The apartment that we had this feast in was about 2 hours from Paris, nearly the farthest you could be from Paris and still be considered "Ile de France." (basically Paris and its suburbs). That being the case, this was a sleepover Thanksgiving. At 4:30pm we left Paris on our way to the apartment. We didn't arrive at our destination until about 7:15 and we still had to do grocery shopping. We didn't start cooking until about 9. The actual meal didn't take place until 12:30 AM. I had my turkey this Thanksgiving, at 12:30AM with 14 other Americans, who under any other circumstances would never have met or spoken to each other in their whole lives. But, this is what makes the expatriate experience so unique. Although at home probably none of us would have never known each other, both due to distance and personality disparity, we shared this most intimate of holidays with perfect strangers. At times this was a rather trying experience both due to the tardiness of the dinner and the drunkness of the other males at the party. Yet, when it was time to eat, we ate happily and with much Thanksgiving because, dispite the vast difference of the culture we lived in, we were able to continue our American traditions. I am not sure I would ever want to do it like this again, but considering the circumstances, it was still something resembling Thanksgiving.
As you already know (my egocentricity dominates my writings in this blog... I automatically assume that you have read the previous post), I spent this Thanksgiving away from home. I was extremely grateful for the French families invitation to dinner, but it was still Thanksgiving and I hadn't any turkey. So, when my buddy Brendan texted me to tell me that a bunch of American assistants were getting together to celebrate Thanksgiving on Saturday night, I told him I was definitely in.
The apartment that we had this feast in was about 2 hours from Paris, nearly the farthest you could be from Paris and still be considered "Ile de France." (basically Paris and its suburbs). That being the case, this was a sleepover Thanksgiving. At 4:30pm we left Paris on our way to the apartment. We didn't arrive at our destination until about 7:15 and we still had to do grocery shopping. We didn't start cooking until about 9. The actual meal didn't take place until 12:30 AM. I had my turkey this Thanksgiving, at 12:30AM with 14 other Americans, who under any other circumstances would never have met or spoken to each other in their whole lives. But, this is what makes the expatriate experience so unique. Although at home probably none of us would have never known each other, both due to distance and personality disparity, we shared this most intimate of holidays with perfect strangers. At times this was a rather trying experience both due to the tardiness of the dinner and the drunkness of the other males at the party. Yet, when it was time to eat, we ate happily and with much Thanksgiving because, dispite the vast difference of the culture we lived in, we were able to continue our American traditions. I am not sure I would ever want to do it like this again, but considering the circumstances, it was still something resembling Thanksgiving.
Joyeux Thanksiving de France!
I have just spent my first Thanksgiving away from my family. The first time in my 23 years, that I was unable to get home for this most American of holidays. I thought it would be a lot more difficult to be honest. That is not to say that I didn't miss my family tremendously, but I was certainly looked after and cared for in ways I never imagined.
I tutor in English two high school freshman every Thursday afternoon. We work at the boy's house usually, and I was teaching them about what was happening in America on Thursday. The boy knew a little about Thanksgiving, but the girl knew very little. As I was explaining it to them, the boy left for a minute came back with his Father and they told me in English, that they didn't want me to eat alone on this family holiday in America. So, they invited me for dinner. I was extremely happy and jumped at the oppurtunity because I knew what was awaiting me at my apartment, frowen lasagna. Now, I have become quite used to frozen foods over the last several months but I was not looking forward to eating another on this holiday centered around family and good food. Instead of a Turkey on this Thanksgiving, I ate speghetti carbonara at an Italian restaurant for this Thanksgiving. I was also able to practice French as much as I had in a long time with the family over dinner, as I told them about my family and American Thanksgiving traditions. It was an incredibly kind gesture and I wish that this kind of French genoristy could be known throughout the US. As most of you who read this can attest, the French don't have the best reputation in America, but since I have been here, the French have been nothing short of overly hospitable to me. We didn't get back from dinner until late, so I said a quick hello to my family as they were just finishing their Thanksgiving dinner and then I went to sleep. All in all, I was extremely grateful this Thanksgiving for a French family as welcoming as they were, at a time when, I needed them most.
I tutor in English two high school freshman every Thursday afternoon. We work at the boy's house usually, and I was teaching them about what was happening in America on Thursday. The boy knew a little about Thanksgiving, but the girl knew very little. As I was explaining it to them, the boy left for a minute came back with his Father and they told me in English, that they didn't want me to eat alone on this family holiday in America. So, they invited me for dinner. I was extremely happy and jumped at the oppurtunity because I knew what was awaiting me at my apartment, frowen lasagna. Now, I have become quite used to frozen foods over the last several months but I was not looking forward to eating another on this holiday centered around family and good food. Instead of a Turkey on this Thanksgiving, I ate speghetti carbonara at an Italian restaurant for this Thanksgiving. I was also able to practice French as much as I had in a long time with the family over dinner, as I told them about my family and American Thanksgiving traditions. It was an incredibly kind gesture and I wish that this kind of French genoristy could be known throughout the US. As most of you who read this can attest, the French don't have the best reputation in America, but since I have been here, the French have been nothing short of overly hospitable to me. We didn't get back from dinner until late, so I said a quick hello to my family as they were just finishing their Thanksgiving dinner and then I went to sleep. All in all, I was extremely grateful this Thanksgiving for a French family as welcoming as they were, at a time when, I needed them most.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Life, with a car?
I have done some posts out of chronological order. This post should have gone before the one about the football match, but I will just leave it after, since that is the order I posted it in.
Part of the delay in any recent posts, was the visit from my mom and my uncle. They arrived in Paris just after I got back from Ireland. In the midst of my recent return and their visit, I was unable to write for a while.
My mom decided to rent a car because we were going to go to Mount St. Michel and because there fears of a strike. She had a GPS and several maps, but because the hotel in Massy was so obscure it took her nearly 3 hours to get from the airport to her hotel in Massy. In fear of the potential strike, we decided to do everything we could in Paris before the strike was supposed to start on Tuesday. Thus, we cancelled the trip to Massy and spent the weekend and early week in Paris. We went to the flea market twice, took in the Louvre (rather quickly), and attended a beautiful service at the American Cathedral. I also finally got a Harris Tweed jacket at the flea market! I look like a 1950's British man.
Although my sister said it wasn't worth it, we had Sunday afternoon free and a car, so we drove to Giverny to see Chez Monet and his gardens. It had closed about a week before we got there. Yet, with a little detective work, we were able to climb a fence and see the pond (although the lily pads were already gone). Not being a lover of Monet myself, I could have gone either way, but it was quite a pleasant drive into the country and Giverny was a wonderful little town. It was readily apparent why Monet was inspired to paint as much as he did.
It was a unique experience being in France, and in particular Massy with a car. I have never had a car here, so I was not very much help in navigating. However, it did expand my knowledge of the town of Massy. We saw sections of Massy I didn't even know existed. It was quite a unique experience when one day, we were driving down a street heading back towards my lycee, I realized, to my amazement, that we were on the street I lived. Somewhat puzzled, I told my mom, "hey this is where I live." Incredibly, you can live in a place for 2 months, and on a street for 2 months and not knowing what exists on the other side of that very same street, in this case, it was a McDonalds. It reminded me of learning about how the Age of Discovery and the Age of Reason coincided in the Middle Ages. The spirit of the time was a general awakening with Columbus sailing to America and just general exploration around the globe. The world seemed so much larger. This then translated to an expansion of the mind. If the world is larger and there is more to be known about the physical landscape of the world, this then leads people to think that there is more knowledge that can be gained. This then expands your mind (not in a 1960's way) or expands what you are willing to consider as possibilities.
There is so much going on around me, but because I cannot see it, it might as well be dark to me. With the advent of a car here, I was able to see so much more around me, what was once darkness became as a light. (This might not make any sense but it did to me so I wrote it down. If it doesn't make sense just ignore it and wait for the next post). Living without a car has been quite a unique experience (that probably could have been sufficient and I wouldn't have had to write all the rest but all that other stuff went through my head as I was walking to that very McDonalds the other day in search of Wi-Fi. They didn't have it but I had a good walk).
My mom and uncle also got to me several of the teachers at the school who have been very helpful in getting me settled here. We all went out for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. I think it went pretty well. It was a good thing they had a car or it would have been quite costly and difficult to get to the airport without one! I was sad to see them go, but my mom and the rest of my family will be here in about a month for Christmas!
Part of the delay in any recent posts, was the visit from my mom and my uncle. They arrived in Paris just after I got back from Ireland. In the midst of my recent return and their visit, I was unable to write for a while.
My mom decided to rent a car because we were going to go to Mount St. Michel and because there fears of a strike. She had a GPS and several maps, but because the hotel in Massy was so obscure it took her nearly 3 hours to get from the airport to her hotel in Massy. In fear of the potential strike, we decided to do everything we could in Paris before the strike was supposed to start on Tuesday. Thus, we cancelled the trip to Massy and spent the weekend and early week in Paris. We went to the flea market twice, took in the Louvre (rather quickly), and attended a beautiful service at the American Cathedral. I also finally got a Harris Tweed jacket at the flea market! I look like a 1950's British man.
Although my sister said it wasn't worth it, we had Sunday afternoon free and a car, so we drove to Giverny to see Chez Monet and his gardens. It had closed about a week before we got there. Yet, with a little detective work, we were able to climb a fence and see the pond (although the lily pads were already gone). Not being a lover of Monet myself, I could have gone either way, but it was quite a pleasant drive into the country and Giverny was a wonderful little town. It was readily apparent why Monet was inspired to paint as much as he did.
It was a unique experience being in France, and in particular Massy with a car. I have never had a car here, so I was not very much help in navigating. However, it did expand my knowledge of the town of Massy. We saw sections of Massy I didn't even know existed. It was quite a unique experience when one day, we were driving down a street heading back towards my lycee, I realized, to my amazement, that we were on the street I lived. Somewhat puzzled, I told my mom, "hey this is where I live." Incredibly, you can live in a place for 2 months, and on a street for 2 months and not knowing what exists on the other side of that very same street, in this case, it was a McDonalds. It reminded me of learning about how the Age of Discovery and the Age of Reason coincided in the Middle Ages. The spirit of the time was a general awakening with Columbus sailing to America and just general exploration around the globe. The world seemed so much larger. This then translated to an expansion of the mind. If the world is larger and there is more to be known about the physical landscape of the world, this then leads people to think that there is more knowledge that can be gained. This then expands your mind (not in a 1960's way) or expands what you are willing to consider as possibilities.
There is so much going on around me, but because I cannot see it, it might as well be dark to me. With the advent of a car here, I was able to see so much more around me, what was once darkness became as a light. (This might not make any sense but it did to me so I wrote it down. If it doesn't make sense just ignore it and wait for the next post). Living without a car has been quite a unique experience (that probably could have been sufficient and I wouldn't have had to write all the rest but all that other stuff went through my head as I was walking to that very McDonalds the other day in search of Wi-Fi. They didn't have it but I had a good walk).
My mom and uncle also got to me several of the teachers at the school who have been very helpful in getting me settled here. We all went out for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. I think it went pretty well. It was a good thing they had a car or it would have been quite costly and difficult to get to the airport without one! I was sad to see them go, but my mom and the rest of my family will be here in about a month for Christmas!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Allez Les Bleus!
Last night was the first football (soccer) match I have attended on European soil. It was an incredible match. Part of the experience of this particular match, was the experience of getting to the stadium. In order to further flex their muscle, the transportation union continued the strike into the weekend in order to create chaos for people trying to get to the match. This is (I use the present tense as the strike is still in effect and could be possibly for up to month as some are predicting) the 2nd strike in as many months as the transportation workers are trying to fight Sarkozy's plan to increase the amount of time required to work before retirement. The transportation workers have to work the least amount of any government workers before retirement. Yet, this small percent of the population has the ability to bring the whole city to its knees. There were riot police all throughout the subway system. The walk ways were so packed with people you did not walk by your own will, but by the will of the person behind you or next to you. Once you started down the corridor, there was no turning back. It was impossible. I had to change trains 4 times in order to get to the stadium. It is normally a straight route from Massy to La Stade de France. It took me nearly 2 and a half hours to make a trip that normally takes about 45 minutes. If it were not for my desire to see this match, there is no way I could have braved this trip on public transportation.
Yet, the match was well worth the journey. You could hear the supporters as we approached the stadium. We turned a block in order to see swarms of people of people covered in red gathered around huge drums lit in this darkest of nights by the glowing of the red flares in the center of the circle. The only color noticeable other than the red, was the green star on many of their backs. This is not a symbol of France. It is a symbol of Morocco, the visitors of tonight's match against the French National Squad in a qualifying match for Euro 08 this summer. Although Morocco was the visiting squad, the preponderance of fans showed up to support them. I am not sure why this is other than the fact that there are many North African immigrants in France and most French supporters only care about matches that really matter.
I was there to support the French, as this is my current country of residence. Wanting to be like the football supporters I had seen on TV, my first purchase was a French national scarf to go with my jersey and blue shoes. Much to my chagrin, I was unable to bring my camera into the Stadium because it looked "to professional." The match included 4 goals and a tie between the two teams. The match was electric as the crowd. In order to keep warm on this coldest of Parisian November nights, we were constantly participating in waves and other full body movements like jumping up and down at the excitement of each of the many goals, slide tackles, or great saves. It was a good thing the match was full of these. I would have liked to see a French win but it was a great match. It took me longer to get home because I had to wait for the night bus that goes back to my town and I was ready by 1:30 AM to sleep after a evening that started nearly 9 hours earlier. Total travel time, 4 hours and 45 minutes. Total football time 94 minutes. It was well worth it.
Yet, the match was well worth the journey. You could hear the supporters as we approached the stadium. We turned a block in order to see swarms of people of people covered in red gathered around huge drums lit in this darkest of nights by the glowing of the red flares in the center of the circle. The only color noticeable other than the red, was the green star on many of their backs. This is not a symbol of France. It is a symbol of Morocco, the visitors of tonight's match against the French National Squad in a qualifying match for Euro 08 this summer. Although Morocco was the visiting squad, the preponderance of fans showed up to support them. I am not sure why this is other than the fact that there are many North African immigrants in France and most French supporters only care about matches that really matter.
I was there to support the French, as this is my current country of residence. Wanting to be like the football supporters I had seen on TV, my first purchase was a French national scarf to go with my jersey and blue shoes. Much to my chagrin, I was unable to bring my camera into the Stadium because it looked "to professional." The match included 4 goals and a tie between the two teams. The match was electric as the crowd. In order to keep warm on this coldest of Parisian November nights, we were constantly participating in waves and other full body movements like jumping up and down at the excitement of each of the many goals, slide tackles, or great saves. It was a good thing the match was full of these. I would have liked to see a French win but it was a great match. It took me longer to get home because I had to wait for the night bus that goes back to my town and I was ready by 1:30 AM to sleep after a evening that started nearly 9 hours earlier. Total travel time, 4 hours and 45 minutes. Total football time 94 minutes. It was well worth it.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Simplicity
This process of moving to Europe will no doubt change me in many ways. However, there has been one aspect of my life which I didn't expect to be affected which has been. It should have been obvious but I wasn't prepared for it. I am not even exactly sure how to best describe it. Basically, it is my dealings with time and the passage of time. I expected to be so busy and constantly traveling that I wouldn't have time to be, well, bored. It is an embarrasing thing to be bored for me. I love my family and friends. I love to read. I love to travel. I love to play sports. I like to watch movies and some TV shows. Yet, it is amazing how much time is consumed at home with TV shows, and video games though. TV and video games are not bad things in and of themselves it just how I used them that became a distraction. I know this now, because for one, I don't have video games. I spend so much of my life playing video games because I am terrified of what might happen if I don't have something to distract me from silence, and the mere contemplation of the passage of time.
I don't have TV in my room or a fully functioning internet. I spend my time either reading, writing or talking to my family, and occasionally my friends (it is quite expensive and my parents don't pay for me to talk to them). I only spend 12 hours a week in the classroom. I feel downright guilty to think that there are days when I can't wait for 9:30PM to come around so I can go to sleep and be ignorant of the passing of time while I sleep. I am living in Europe!
This is not to say I haven't done a lot while being here, but it is amazing with all I have done how much time is left. I have been reading on average about 2 books a week. I love it that I get that much time to read, but even reading, I can't believe I am about to say this, gets boring. I have no one to discuss the books with. To fully process what I am reading, I need to talk about it with someone.
I am not complaining either. It is good for me. I speak a lot less which when I do find someone to talk to, has to be good for them. I know I can't talk too much as it is. I am rather long winded on certain subjects, i.e. this one. Plus, I am learning a lot as I do read. One writer who has challenged me the most on this very subject, is Henry David Thoreau. I read about his time at Walden Pond and how he would sometimes spend his entire mornings sitting or lying in the entry way to his house. He only really describes one book he brought to the woods with him, along with some pen and paper. Yet, it is within this book that he writes his famous quote that he wants "to live deliberately and to suck all the marrow out of life." Lying in the entry way to your house seems nothing like what it might mean to "suck the marrow out of life." At least at first glance. But, as you continue to read, I began to go with him on the journey and recognize how much of my life was spent trying to ignore its passing. I lived in virtual worlds of video games and voyeuristic worlds of reality television shows because my life was so boring i couldn't stand to come to terms with it and so I sought distractions. If I did not come here to Europe, I would not have had the opportunity to forsake those things and learn as best I can how to truly life in such a way as to "suck the marrow out of life." I may not live in the woods and so seek to live exactly like Thoreau (I am not convinced he was as consistent as he wanted to be anyway) but I can seek to learn how to live without those distractions. Spend time in the woods when I have the oppurtunity, but most certainly I can learn to live purposefully, which to me is the real wisdom of Thoreau. Live on purpose.
I don't have TV in my room or a fully functioning internet. I spend my time either reading, writing or talking to my family, and occasionally my friends (it is quite expensive and my parents don't pay for me to talk to them). I only spend 12 hours a week in the classroom. I feel downright guilty to think that there are days when I can't wait for 9:30PM to come around so I can go to sleep and be ignorant of the passing of time while I sleep. I am living in Europe!
This is not to say I haven't done a lot while being here, but it is amazing with all I have done how much time is left. I have been reading on average about 2 books a week. I love it that I get that much time to read, but even reading, I can't believe I am about to say this, gets boring. I have no one to discuss the books with. To fully process what I am reading, I need to talk about it with someone.
I am not complaining either. It is good for me. I speak a lot less which when I do find someone to talk to, has to be good for them. I know I can't talk too much as it is. I am rather long winded on certain subjects, i.e. this one. Plus, I am learning a lot as I do read. One writer who has challenged me the most on this very subject, is Henry David Thoreau. I read about his time at Walden Pond and how he would sometimes spend his entire mornings sitting or lying in the entry way to his house. He only really describes one book he brought to the woods with him, along with some pen and paper. Yet, it is within this book that he writes his famous quote that he wants "to live deliberately and to suck all the marrow out of life." Lying in the entry way to your house seems nothing like what it might mean to "suck the marrow out of life." At least at first glance. But, as you continue to read, I began to go with him on the journey and recognize how much of my life was spent trying to ignore its passing. I lived in virtual worlds of video games and voyeuristic worlds of reality television shows because my life was so boring i couldn't stand to come to terms with it and so I sought distractions. If I did not come here to Europe, I would not have had the opportunity to forsake those things and learn as best I can how to truly life in such a way as to "suck the marrow out of life." I may not live in the woods and so seek to live exactly like Thoreau (I am not convinced he was as consistent as he wanted to be anyway) but I can seek to learn how to live without those distractions. Spend time in the woods when I have the oppurtunity, but most certainly I can learn to live purposefully, which to me is the real wisdom of Thoreau. Live on purpose.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Failte Eire
For more than a week now I have been in Ireland. I arrived to an appropriately foggy and rainy Dublin. The taxi driver got me pretty close to my friend's apartment and I walked from there. On my walk, I was watching this van taxi fly around this winding side street and I was impressed by how fast he could drive and still make these turns. I was looking ahead of where the van was going and I noticed there was a very dark figure crossing the street. Before my mind could make the connection THUD! The van hit the dark figure crossing the street that happened to be a middle aged woman. I was quite impressed by the fact that after being hit by a van going 30 kilometres an hour, she got up relatively easy and just kept walking. That's an Irish woman for ya! The taxi driver looked around for a minute said he was sorry and then just kept driving. With that, I knew I was in Ireland.
For my first couple of days, I was in Dublin. I saw Iron and Wine saturday night and they left a little to be desired. It was perfect weather so I was able to read and enjoy St. Stephen's green in the afternoon. I saw the National Gallery of Ireland and was able to learn a lot about Irish painting and Polish as well. There was a fascinating exhibit on Polish art for the last 100 years (I think i need to make a visit to Poland. I have heard Krakow is cool).
Anyway, the main part of my trip was going to be my drive through the country. My initial desire was to see the whole country but I realized quickly that I would have to settle for the middle and south.
My first day was spent in Glendalaugh and the Wicklow National Park. St. Kevin's 6th century monastery is nestled in the middle of the Wicklow Mountain range and two lakes. It is a beautiful area called the Garden of Ireland. (I took tons of pictures and will have those on a link to your right). I did a nice hike to get a good view of the lakes and hike one of the ridges of the moutains as well. That evening was my first experience with a hostel and it was thankfully uneventful. (This is going to be a long entry so bear with me).
The next day, I drove to Cork. I decided to go to Cork to be near the south where I would hike one of the peninsulas jutting into the Atlantic. Cork was a dirty city. Around every turn, I thought I was going to be jumped by a knacker (not sure how to spell that but it is a young person who wears a track suit tucked into his socks and will beat up anyone in their way, kind of gangster type but not exactly the same). While I was in the hostel there, the owner had to throw out a belligerent drunk who was locked in the bathroom for quite a while with a girl. Other than that little episode, I slept alright. At least he wasn't in my room.
HIking the Sheap's Head peninsula was absolutely beatiful and peaceful. Wicklow was nice but quite crowded. I only saw two other people on the trail in Sheap's Head. I climbed a few couple hundred meter peaks and took lots of pictures (links on the left). That evening, I drove to Killarney.
Killarney had the nicest hostel I stayed in but by that point I was quite sick and my whole body ached and I was having trouble sleeping because hostels are no place for a good nights rest. I called a B & B in Galway and made a reservation so I didn't have to stay in a hostel another night. I have been reading Thoreau's Walden and have been thinking a lot about how much I need to be comfortable. I am a long way from Walden Pond. Either way, I needed a private bed and a locked door in Galway. I biked the Gap of Dunloe with a girl called Audrey from Quebec. We had a good bike ride and a boat ride to finish.
Late that night, I finally made it to the last stop on my trip, Galway. I had a better night's sleep in Galway. The lady who ran the B & B was truly Irish. She met me in the middle of Galway and let me follow her in to where her B & B was located cause she was afraid I might get lost. Her breakfast was wonderful that morning and with a full stomach I set out for Connemara National Park. It happened to be closed but it was a nice drive. I spent the rest of the afternoon in Galway. I stumbled upon a special demonstration by the Irish Army in a Cathedral that was to honor those who were lost in the Great War. Hearing the bagpipes in an Irish Catholic Cathedral could not have given me a truer sense of Irish Culture.
By the last day, I was finally getting used to going 100 kilometers an hour on the wrong side of a one lane road that winds more than Missouri roads and is in worse condition, thats not including the small roads. I think it is a miracle I made it back to Dublin alive. I have a few more days here, but they will be spent a bit more relaxed than the last few. I am going to see an Irish folk artist tonight and I am pretty excited. If any of you made it to the bottom, well, I am impressed.
For my first couple of days, I was in Dublin. I saw Iron and Wine saturday night and they left a little to be desired. It was perfect weather so I was able to read and enjoy St. Stephen's green in the afternoon. I saw the National Gallery of Ireland and was able to learn a lot about Irish painting and Polish as well. There was a fascinating exhibit on Polish art for the last 100 years (I think i need to make a visit to Poland. I have heard Krakow is cool).
Anyway, the main part of my trip was going to be my drive through the country. My initial desire was to see the whole country but I realized quickly that I would have to settle for the middle and south.
My first day was spent in Glendalaugh and the Wicklow National Park. St. Kevin's 6th century monastery is nestled in the middle of the Wicklow Mountain range and two lakes. It is a beautiful area called the Garden of Ireland. (I took tons of pictures and will have those on a link to your right). I did a nice hike to get a good view of the lakes and hike one of the ridges of the moutains as well. That evening was my first experience with a hostel and it was thankfully uneventful. (This is going to be a long entry so bear with me).
The next day, I drove to Cork. I decided to go to Cork to be near the south where I would hike one of the peninsulas jutting into the Atlantic. Cork was a dirty city. Around every turn, I thought I was going to be jumped by a knacker (not sure how to spell that but it is a young person who wears a track suit tucked into his socks and will beat up anyone in their way, kind of gangster type but not exactly the same). While I was in the hostel there, the owner had to throw out a belligerent drunk who was locked in the bathroom for quite a while with a girl. Other than that little episode, I slept alright. At least he wasn't in my room.
HIking the Sheap's Head peninsula was absolutely beatiful and peaceful. Wicklow was nice but quite crowded. I only saw two other people on the trail in Sheap's Head. I climbed a few couple hundred meter peaks and took lots of pictures (links on the left). That evening, I drove to Killarney.
Killarney had the nicest hostel I stayed in but by that point I was quite sick and my whole body ached and I was having trouble sleeping because hostels are no place for a good nights rest. I called a B & B in Galway and made a reservation so I didn't have to stay in a hostel another night. I have been reading Thoreau's Walden and have been thinking a lot about how much I need to be comfortable. I am a long way from Walden Pond. Either way, I needed a private bed and a locked door in Galway. I biked the Gap of Dunloe with a girl called Audrey from Quebec. We had a good bike ride and a boat ride to finish.
Late that night, I finally made it to the last stop on my trip, Galway. I had a better night's sleep in Galway. The lady who ran the B & B was truly Irish. She met me in the middle of Galway and let me follow her in to where her B & B was located cause she was afraid I might get lost. Her breakfast was wonderful that morning and with a full stomach I set out for Connemara National Park. It happened to be closed but it was a nice drive. I spent the rest of the afternoon in Galway. I stumbled upon a special demonstration by the Irish Army in a Cathedral that was to honor those who were lost in the Great War. Hearing the bagpipes in an Irish Catholic Cathedral could not have given me a truer sense of Irish Culture.
By the last day, I was finally getting used to going 100 kilometers an hour on the wrong side of a one lane road that winds more than Missouri roads and is in worse condition, thats not including the small roads. I think it is a miracle I made it back to Dublin alive. I have a few more days here, but they will be spent a bit more relaxed than the last few. I am going to see an Irish folk artist tonight and I am pretty excited. If any of you made it to the bottom, well, I am impressed.
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