DAY TWENTY SEVEN

DAY TWENTY SIX CONT
Was another really relaxing day. Which is good because this traveling and cramming 8 billion things into four weeks thing is wearing me down like no other. When we finally left the apartment yesterday at around 1130ish we took the good old ten bus into town and headed to Temple Bar for the farmers market. It was so good! They tell you the food is good and fresh...but it really is good and fresh! You don't even have to feel bad about eating it. I got a salmon crepe - which sounds gross if you don't like salmon, but hey my people are from the ocean








I also got a lamb kebab that was definitely NOT made of horse. I hope. Haha, crazy Greek people. Just kidding though, really it was lamb. After that we headed over to Merrion Square to catch some of the Street Performer World Championships. Who even knew that they existed? It was a really cute fun event, really family oriented since it was free so there were tons of kids laughing at the funny performers. We caught a bit of the Flying Dutchman act, that had been together for over 20 years. Pretty fun I guess, but I mean...they were street performers.





So we decided to just chill on the grass, lay out in the gorgeous weather for a bit. We've been so lucky because the weather's been non-stop gorgeous. We've been knocking on wood and crossing our fingers that it stays that way for the rest of the trip. Can't believe we have less than a week left!

Anyways, did a bit of damage at H&M: aka I'm really not allowed to eat for the rest of this week - and finally headed home. Met up with the girls and we all went out together again! Yay! So fun. We actually went to this really weird chat roulette party. It was basically a venue where they usually have bands and such playing, but instead that night there was a laptop with chatroulette on. We played bingo with all of the things that could possibly happen and won free drinks. Pretty fun, if not one of the silliest things I've ever done in a bar. Ended up back in Temple Bar, surprise surprise where the high point was Hungry Harrys - haha - and eventually pouring ourselves into bed early. Good day, good night - I love DUBLIN!





DAY TWENTY SEVEN

Woke up to get a bright start on the day with a group meeting. We're such good students. We were going to a Hurling match at Croke Park, the stadium for the GAA - Galic Athletic Association so we were really excited. We caught the bus early so that we could grab breakfast - yummy crepes from Lemon Cafe. We were getting scared because we were traveling way north of the Liffy past the Spire but luckily we're so good at commandeering the Dublin Bus system that we made it with time to spare.







The hurling match was very...hot. Really, we have been having some gorgeous weather here. I have actually somehow achieved Mexico status in Dublin. Craziness. Anyways, a little about the match. It was the semi-final game for Dublin vs. Kilkenny, who were the favorites to win. They did end up winning after a pretty good match. It was pretty fun but honestly kind of hard to follow, although we had excellent third row seats. The hurling ball is just really small and we were kind of squinting to see it.



Came home and updating/emailing/chilling/giving our livers a rest. Tomorrow is the start of our last week in Dublin!!

DAY TWENTY SIX

whew. Yesterday was exhausting! But after Day 23's chill-ness I guess there had to be some exciting stuff to make up for it! Let's start with

DAY TWENTY FOUR
Brad held class for us at Powerscourt center again so that we could meet with our groups and discuss our progress so far. We met about an hour earlier so that we would actually have stuff to say to him. We got a really European breakfast of scones with jam and cream. Wow. How we've adapted.



Ha, anyways, the meeting was very productive and we thought we had a lot of good things to show for it especially after discussing our next steps. After our meeting everyone was being rather indecisive about what to do. In order to not have another dreary day Ashley and I decided to go tour the old Jameson Distillery. We really had to push, since we were feeling not so hot from the night before, but onward we pressed, down O'Connell street towards the northwest part of town.



In my opinion, the old Jameson distillery is a better tour than Guiness. Aside from the cheesy introduction video, the tour is guided so that you actually have someone explaining to you what everything is. Not that you need someone to read for you, but it's just easier than having a self-guided tour where you will be tempted to skip over the parts that look kind of boring.



Now if you ever get the chance to visit the old Jameson Distillery, let me tell you - RAISE YOUR HAND AND VOLUNTEER! Definitely makes the experience better. Unless you're not down to become and official Irish Whiskey Taster, it is definitely the route for you. As a part of the tour of course you do get a complimentary glass of Jameson mixed - the popular drink in Ireland is Jameson and Cranberry: Who knew?. However, as a volunteer in addition to the drink you get to sip three different whiskeys, which definitely left us a little tipsy. At 11 euros student price, that made it well worth the bargain.





The making of whiskey - or any spirit for that matter - is definitely more complicated than the making of beer. Since we have now seen the process of both, I can tell you the difference - distillation. I think. Haha. I don't really know man, there were 8 steps in the tour and the first ones were kind of similar but the last ones were kind of fuzzy. I know that Jameson is on average a 5 year old spirit because they will mix a 7 year old matured cask with a 3 year old. The casks themselves are made of wood that comes from Spain and sometimes Kentucky. Which gives it a rosier flavor. I think. Welcome to the downside of going on a guided tour: since there are so many people you're not always going to be in the front, sometimes you'll be in the back not really paying attention. Check out this old man's murse. From Amsterdam. What a boss.



Seriously though, we came to the end of our tour and learned that we would be taste testing whiskeys. The first, Johnnie Walker black, the best selling whiskey in the world. Who knew? Second, Irish Jameson. Third, the best selling whiskey in America - you guessed it, Jack Daniels. We were supposed to compare the tastes, as Scotch whiskey is supposedly smokier and American whiskey sweeter. It was getting kind of rough man. Chaser anyone? In the end we were supposed to say which one was better after sipping all three. It actually really was the Jameson. If it was because we sipped it before we sipped the others i'm not sure, but a good game all in all and we had three baby shots leftover besides. As we sat there pounding the last of our samples - although it "wasn't a shot competition" we met a new friend. Michael Boyd, a firefighter from Round Rock - what are the odds? He told us about how he was only in town for a day and somehow he ended up being our couch surfer and going out with us that night?...slash agreeing to go to Galway and the Cliffs of Moher with us as our photog [you know how we girls love our pictures]? What a strange and beautiful life it is.



DAY TWENTY FIVE

So our bus to Galway was leaving at 545 in the morning, so our brilliant idea was to stay up all night long. brilliant. We went out with all of the girls that night and had so much fun at The Purty Kitchen watching a band whose lead singer they all knew. It was definitely all fun and games till I realized that little Mikey was kind of serious about staying up all night. I just couldn't do it. Call me lame, but my body still hadn't recovered from Spain! We got home in time for one hour of sleep. The next thing I knew we were awake and heading to the bus stop to leave for Galway.

Now Galway is kind of a ways away, kind of like when we left super early in the morning to go to Cork [where the Blarney Stone is] so the bus ride was about two hours long into the city of Galway. However, since we had decided to go super early in the morning it was seriously dead because it was 845ish when we got there. We literally saw the last of the drunkies ambling down the street on their way home. Our bus into the mountains towards the Cliffs didn't leave for a few hours so we decided to walk around the city centre for a bit. We saw the monument to JFK in the middle of the square and the Spanish arch that had been built in the Spanish Quarter in the 1500s.





After all of that excitement we weren't really sure what to do with ourselves. You see Galway is a town that is known for two things. The Cliffs of Moher and Connemara tours that you can go on during the day; and the "hen and stag" [bachelor and bachelorette] parties that go on at night. Meaning not too much going on in the early hours of the morning. After going through a really low point at Finnegan's and Dunnes, we ended up getting coffee and bagels just to kill time before the bus. Let me just tell you we looked really good. Ha, so we got on the bus for Galway and it was going to be a two hour guided tour. Not one of those again haha. But seriously, me on public transportation = sleep sleep sleep. Oops. I mean I'm sad that I missed some of the interesting things he was talking about although I did manage to wake up for every time we stopped at a picturesque scene for photos. Such as the Dunguaire Castle and the pastures and landscapes in Kinvara and Ballyvaughn. I heard the stories about the stone tables in Poulnabrone Dolmen that were supposedly not coffins, but actually burial places for the bones after the bodies had decayed. Cute. And of course, the miles upon miles of penny fence that had been put together from stone using no concrete or anything hundreds of years ago that still stood today. They were called penny fences because the poor workers had put them together at the price of a penny a meter.







Not that all of that wasn't insanely interesting to me but I really just wanted to see the Cliffs. Besides having been told to definitely not miss out on it, it is touted as one of the top three things to do in Ireland [the top three being Guiness, Blarney and Moher - check on all of them!] After stopping at a small pub for lunch the bus finally made it's way to the top of the mountains. Aren't they beautiful?



Too bad we didn't see those. Ha, no I mean...here



Ok, so we were mildly disappointed. We had come all that way but honestly I could only make out the Hag's Head side of the cliff through the fog. It was definitely an experience however. It was different from Barcelona and it's sprawling city, I guess because it was all natural. In Spain we had seen the rooftops from a man made platform and marveled at what one person could create. These cliffs though, you feel like you're in the presence of something truly not of this world. It's weird to think about something that has stood for so long - the cliffs have been attracting visitors since the 18th century - that will continue to be there always. Even after you leave for the day, or leave the country, or even leave this earth they will still stand there, proud and strong, allowing others to view their grace. They're different from buildings and monuments that are made for other people, for those too, may stand the test of time, but these things are there for no one but themselves, they will just continue to be.



They are 214 meters up. That is a long way down. When you stand so close to the edge that you are almost falling off as you peer down - not that I did that, sorry mom - you feel very insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Not in so much of a way that you don't matter but that you are only one little piece of this huge puzzle of life, and that you should be thankful for being allowed to stand in the presence of something greater than yourself.



Anyways, that was all I got from being close to them. It's a shame because I'm sure on a gorgeous day they are truly breathtaking and inspirational. So I bought a postcard. Ha. Maybe I'll just have to marry an Irish boy and come back someday - kidding again mom. We did stop at the smaller cliffs in Fanore where we got some pretty cool pictures; check me out real close to the edge:



After that, back to the city our little bus went. Our driver was an incredible singer, who gave us a taste of his Craic in both story telling and sining in Irish. We got off the bus and realized that he had also been hauling all the way back to the centre as we found that we had nearly an hour and a half before our bus back to Dublin.

This brings me to a point that I have made several times during this trip and will continue to make as it seems to ring more and more true every day. I know the reason the Irish drink so much. Because the sun never sets here. There's a little tip that Rick Steeves never told me. But I'm serious. It rises at about 4 in the morning and doesn't set till about 12am. Seriously. We were going out the other night and it was 1130ish and in the distance the sky wasn't even dusky, it was light. Now, when you're in the type of city where most things close at five, what else is there to do? I mean, there's a pub on every corner and there is a huge chunk of time from 5-9 when you have to go home and get ready. I mean in America we do love our day drinking but it will normally start to get less sunny at about sevenish. I don't know, maybe it's the time of year. Because granted, it doesn't start to get too dark till about 8 or 9 during the summer in the states as well. But I mean really. People drink a lot here...which is why when we had that time to kill we of course headed to Fibber McGees. Irish Coffee anyone?





Seriously though, we were kind of sad at not getting a chance to see the Galway nightlife. People really do come from all over Ireland and some of the UK to have their Hen and Stag parties here. I mean we were there at 6ish and we already saw two pass our way. Even the ticket man at the bus depot told us he would gladly switch our tickets to the 115 out bound bus so that we could experience it. We did end up heading back to Dublin. I guess this is the other reason that I will have to do Galway again.

DAY TWENTY SIX

Now although last night's festivities may not have been out of control we've gotten a late start to our day. I blame Michael. Ha. But it's actually a gorgeous sunny day so I can't wait to get out there so I don't waste it - although as mentioned earlier it's not like the sun's going away anytime soon. We hope to play around on St. Stephen's green for a little - continue working on this tan from Spain - and check out the Street Performer World Competition in Merrion square, as well as the Farmers market across from the temple bar area. Looks like the start of a busy day and making the most out of our time left here!

DAY TWENTY THREE

Holy jeez I can't believe it's been that long! so much to catch up on. Mainly BARCAAAAAA - which I have apparently incorrectly been calling barCa not barSa. I'm an ignorant American. Go figure. Anyways, Spain was crazy and I was, for the first time in my entire life, romanced. And I fell in love.
With the city mommy, don't worry, I won't be having any Spanish babies :) But yeah, so I've a lot to catch you up on...get readyyy

END OF DAY SEVENTEEN -
In a flight that was a horrible rival for worst place right after the getaway cargo plane from Casablanca and the tailgate airport tent set up in Boracay Philippines 05, Ryanair was quite possibly the most uncomfortable two hours that felt like five that I've spent on a plane in my life. Never again will I complain about my economy class seat on Continental which is quite the luxury, let me tell you. Although as I was soon to find out on this trip, you get what you pay for. Upon touching down in Giorona and realizing I was in Spain however, my excitement was tantamount to being an explorer discovering a whole new island. This lasted for the entire 1 hour bus ride into Barcelona...upon which I realized that we were in a foreign country where no one understood us, hated our culture and where we would probably have to sleep on the street that night. Cool. We were forced to seek refuge at a youth hostel called St. Jori's, which if you care to Google it, is actually quite cozy and well reccomended. Which is all well and good except that there was no room there. They did kindly let us use their internet to find a hostel. We ended up booking the cheapest one on La Rambla y Catalunya. After walking the entire calle of La Rambla we finally found Hostel Windsor. Now I haven't seen the movie hostel but as I sit here on a creaky bunk bed whose slats will surely fall on the stained sheets where Ashley rests under me, I feel as though I am in a movie. Now I understand these are marginal locations but having never even lived in a dorm untill UCD, suffice to say this this experience is quite eye-opening.

DAY EIGHTEEN - (SPAIN DAY 1: Sangria, Sand, Splinters)
We decided to tour the city on our next day and to take the first day to sort of just explore the way we did in Dublin. The street that we were staying on, Las Ramblas, was amazing. Definitely one of the main thoroughfares of the city. There were crazy street performers dressed up in costumes from Edward scissorhands and the mask, to warriors and gladiators and Spanish senoritas. We walked down the pier and to the travel center to arrange bus tickets for the following morning. We walked an walked and walked and walked and took pictures of things although we basically had no idea what they were. We stopped at a small beach cafe for some sangria in the sun.



Walking back fown through the city center on Las Ramblas street, we stopped at an open air market. It was so cute and colorful and everything was fresh and organic. Ashley got some juice and I got a dragon fruit. Delicious! A little piece of heaven before heading back to hostel hell.



Now I've moved onto the porch of our 8 bedroom suite to write this and I must say I am being a bit harsh. I mean I'm so lucky that I have the opportunity to go to Spain and be a real world traveler. I am here and nothing horrible has happened so far. It is more rough than I'm used to, but it's a washroom/lavatory, albeit lumpy bed/place to rest my head, electricity, and even a locker for my valuables. That's pretty much all we'll need although we'll see if this gets posted. Praying that we make it back to Dublin!



Oh ya, and I got a really big splinter in my hand from this wooden bench on the pier. Had to perform a bit of unsanitary surgery. Hope I don't get gangrene. Texas fight.

DAY NINETEEN (SPAIN DAY 2)
Last night was very...festive, to say the very least. We went to a club called Shoko which is in Olympic plaza, a port on the coast that was built up during Spain's hosting of the 1992 Olympic games. It was basically a Cancun/Boracay touristy area but we had honestly had our fill of the locals after our amble down the Rambla all day so it ended up being a great time. Finished off the night at a shot bar a little closer to the statue of Columbus that is the tourist center at the end of Las Ramblas by the pier. It was called Chupitos and it had literally 100s of different kinds of shots. Awesome. They told me Spain knows how to party and as we were so tired when we got in at about 5 that we didn't notice our wafer thin mattresses barely held up by equally thin slats, I guess they were right - whoever they are.



Now as I'm starting day 2 I'm going to apologize for all of the snide hostel remarks, It is most certainly not the Waldorf Astoria but on the walk back up the hostel after a day of sightseeing, I found myself calling it home. Weird. I guess in the daylight anything does feel like home. And that's not to say that I'm going to sit here and chill on the sheets laced with cigarette burns all night instead of going out but honestly

i. am. inlovewith BARCELONA!!!

Now this is a very big turn around from when I woke up 10 hours ago saying to Ashley "we need to stop waking up in Spain" [I probably meant to say we need to stop waking up in hostels] but I've really only been here 5 hours max out of a glorious 24 hour day and 4 of those I was dead sleeping. It's really hard for me to describe the thrill of being in a foreign place. We went up both the Mountjuic and Tibidabo mountains and in both there was a certain peace that I felt above the city. It's a feeling that takes me to a really happy place and I hope that I remember that. I'm sure it's the feeling that explorers get when they survey the land. That emotion that incites them to conquer the land and make it their own, to shape into their wishes and pour their emotions and feelings into. That's what Spain makes me feel like - minus the hostility towards the natives. To be awed be the majesty of not only the sweeping countryside but the glorious backdrop of houses in towns that have stood for centuries through war and abuse but still stand strong and proud. I sat there breathing in this serenity and I felt like I could take on the world. As if all of the bad things that were looming in the distance that were uncertain and daunting were not pushed away, but that they would all work out. Like I could see with a clear head and I knew what I wanted and would get there and time would go on like it has for so many years in this antiquated city.

I really like the architecture in Barcelona. It's different from the Alhambra in Granada or the castles in Madrid [although i've never seen these structures i'm sure they're awesome as well] but it's all fairly new. 20th century art. I have a new favorite artist! His name is Gaudi and he built basically everything gorgeous in this city. Overstatement obviously, but he really did concieve and construct some real beauty. His art is flowy and he incorporates colorful mosiac tiles into much of his work, though he is actually an architect, using steel and stone primarily I believe? To be truthful I had no idea who he was before today so I don't know much about his style except that it is driven by nature. The Park Guell which was one of the highlights of the day, is a perfect example of his work as it incorporates it directly into the source from which it is derived. As I said, it was the first stop on our bus tour, and although it sounds crazy I actually felt myself tearing up. Which just felt wrong because there are plenty of other structures that I've seen especially in Dublin that have stood for centuries that have not evoked the same emotions as this one park. It was built in the 1930s and I mean how many amazing monuments in the world have been erected since then? I mean even in America, the Empire State Building was being built at the time or even to put it in the same Genre, central park was probably getting started at the same point. But this park man. I mean, it got to me.





We had many other stops on the bus tour, we saw the Sagrada Familia church from the outside. Perhaps Gaudi's most well known work. It is a church that is actually still in construction, I believe the approximate date of its completion is 2027? Which is another thing that amazes me about Gaudi. He was a legend. He conceived that idea for that church and even after his passing literally hundreds of people are still working on continuing his vision. To be the kind of person who can leave that kind of legacy, to impact that many people, I believe, is what one should strive for. Anyways, we didn't go into the church because the line around it was seriously two blocks long. Other momentous things that burst into my conciousness off-hand are the Olympic stadium, as well as the Barca Stadium but my other favorite, as I mentioned before, we did head to Mount Tibidabo, the highest point in the city. It was gorgeous. This is where I was getting that conquering feeling I was talking about earlier. There was a gorgeous church on the top where I stopped to say a blessing to God for getting us through our first 36 unharmed but after that we just sat for a long time thinking about our blessings, our past, present, and what lay ahead in our future.





Came back and decided to make friends with people in our hostel, you know, to get the full experience. Ended up hanging out with one of the guys who runs the hostel, Pedro and pregaming hostel style with Sangria. We were going to a bar with him but ended up getting a surprise lesson in taking the metro [subway] late at night, back to Olympic Plaza. Let me just say, that the nightlife there really never sleeps. I'm typing this as I wake up so it's actually day three...which really still feels like day two because we got in at about seven this morning. Watched the sun rise on the beach with a few new friends. And even though it was sandy and cold, it was actually quite enjoyable. There are just people going up and down the beach basically until seven, selling ice cold beers for one euro. It's quite the place to be. Kind of like this hostel, which I can't believe I'm saying, is begining to feel more and more like home. Jeez. I am calling an 8 bedroom mixed hostel room where Ashley and I are the only girls home. In the daylight anywhere really does feel like home. But honestly that's what it feels like when you're traveling. You just need a place to park it for a few hours and to keep your stuff out of the rain while you explore. Weird. And to be fair, it's not horrible. Although I feel bad because we were actually chilling with Pedro I hope we weren't bad mouthing the hostel. Honestly, it's people like us who make it gross. When you're rolling in at 7 from being out all night at a club then a beach and then just hitting the sack, it's no wonder the sheers aren't 800 thread count. Why would they provide luxury when most people are gone 80% of the day? At 40-50 euro for 4 nights, it's pretty much the best bargain I've seen in Spain. Love it mayne.

DAY TWENTY (SPAIN DAY 3)
So I was a bit upset at first today because I lost some money but sitting here on the beach I have a lot to think about. I'm not sure if it's because I've been romanced by the country or because the waves on the beach ease my mind but i'm in quite the contemplative mood.



Just got home from a really relaxing day in Spain. Slash I also really need to stop calling this hostel home...awesome. Anyways, after the rough start to the day we took the metro again to the Olympic Plaza and parked it there. Not the idyllic beach of your dreams, but not spring break either. Just a typically, family beach day. The water was gorgeous, the sun was bright, and we're about 12 shades into the tan-o-meter so i'm really excited to go back to the dreariness of Dublin. I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE. Even as I sit in this hostel, it's kind of beautiful. We really are right in the center of the city, our terrace is open to Las Ramblas street and there is soft jazz music coming up from a one of the sidewalk cafes. Accompanied by the cool breeze and rumblings of the city sidewalks I would have to say that I am utterly content.





When we got back from the beach we decided that we would actually get to eat today and decided to go for the real deal. We had tapas and paella. So. Freaking. Delicious. And I'm sure we didn't even go to the best place. It was just that amazing. YUM. So we were definitely ready to go hard our last night out. We met a teacher named Carl who actually really freaked me out with the advice he was giving. But we chilled with him for awhile, mmm...boxed sangria. The good stuff. Then we went to this place club promoters were passing out flyers for. Not tight. So of course, back to Olympic Park we go...except that the metro wasn't running at this point, so we walk. Yes my friend, we walked from Las Ramblas to Plaza Olympic during the night. Now if you get your google map out and handy, you'll see why it was better that I didn't bust out my heels for our last night. But yeah, we went back into Shoko, Catwalk, CLDC and a few other places. I was honestly feeling - especially after our heart to heart with Carl - kind of over the whole club scene when something mildly entertaining happened. There were two Italian guys talking to me and ashley. Now I know that this may sound obvious but we couldn't understand them because they were speaking a different language. And that just amazed me. It's like being illiterate. There's someone in front of you clearly trying to communicate with you, a fully grown human being and it's just not getting through. The amusing part was when our friend Carl ended up being our translator for the night. One can only imagine the hilarity that ensued...After another night of staying up untill the Metro was up and running again - what an amazing city Barcelona is - we crashed back at the Hostel Windsor.



DAY TWENTY ONE (SPAIN DAY 4)
We checked out of our hostel at 11 and had a few hours before we had to get back to Girona. We ambled back down Las Ramblas, stopping at the Plaza to take a few pictures, and walking a little ways down the Passeig de Gracia just for fun. We stopped at the cutest bakery and got really good pastries for cheap. Sat down on the park bench to enjoy the leftover paella and the best proscuitto and cheese croissant I've ever tasted. We strolled along the shops for a bit and got some souveniers and before we knew it we were making our way to the bus station.
In Girona we actually ate again, although it was McDonalds, it was damn good. I was actually starting to feel all of the traveling in my bones, which made me feel homesick. Weird how McDonald's can quell that fear. Our plane ended up getting delayed for two hours so it was quite the wait, and when we finally arrived to UCD at 3am I was dying. If I hadn't been at the disgusting hostel all week I would've crashed but I took a nice hot shower and sank into the sheets.

DAY TWENTY TWO:
After the night of no sleep, we stumbled into class in a daze, burned to a crisp. A few of us decided to check out the city of Howth, accessible by Dart and suitable for a day trip. Now, we had originally wanted to go to Bray for the day, where we had been told there were some nice beaches, so I packed according for that. What I should have done was consulted Rick Steeves. Man, that was not a beach town at all! We arrived at what looked like a quaint little fishing village. Shops along the pier, boats docked, sailors mending nets. At the small tourism office someone told us that we should check out the trails leading along the mountain. They are definitely not trails, and they definitely are hikes. We walked literally all around the island. But I'm getting rather ahead of myself. We really weren't expecting that this day. We stopped and saw some sea lions. Aww aren't those guys cute?





And we started up the hill at first. We took lots of scenic pictures. Really, quite beautiful landscapes. Then we headed up the trails. Honestly, around this island I'm pretty sure we saw everything. Jungle, forest, coast, inlets, coves, sand, rocks, mountains, grass, fields, flowers, trees. Everything was green. Slash we walked right through a golf course. I mean honestly it was quite intense. If you care to google map the city of Howth I'm sure a little picture will come up that is their Island's official map. It looks hand drawn. We literally saw all of the things on it from the Rhodoendrons to the two lighthouses, to the sailing club. We were walking for about an hour and a half when we all said oh, should we head back? But of course there's nothing fun about heading back, so we resolved that we were already halfway and that turning back would be a waste. About forty five minutes later, we came to a trailhead that said we had about an hour and forty five more to go. We lost half of the group - Ashley, Rachel and Jenna a ways back when we stopped at an inlet to step in the Ocean [one of the only times in my life that I will be able to say I was standing in the Atlantic Ocean :)] so it ended up being myself, Sly, Tori and Alicia. So, word of advice, people visiting Howth: do not go down the purple trail. Unless you are wearing proper shoes, pants and a backpack. Luckily I had on a dress flip flops and my longchamp. GOOD. DAY. ha, no really though it was gorgeous. I snapped some amazing photos, and there really was every type of scenery imaginable. It was great. Honestly though I started thinking that we weren't going to make it as the sun went down. I was just getting more and more tired and sweaty, stumbling more and more. And just like that, as I thought wow, it's about to start turning into nightime, the trail spit us back out into the city. We were all laughing to ourselves about how we had finally made it and we were quite proud of ourselves for having made it the whole way, especially after consulting the map and seeing that we had come full circle that day. We stopped to eat before we caught the dart home and I had pretty much the best seafood chowder of my life. Hungry or not that would have been damn good, it was all fresh seafood, probably caught that day. So perfect. And so KO when we got back home :)









and finally, DAY TWENTY THREE:



Started off really rough because of stress from school and work and home back home. We were really indecisive about what to do after class. We wanted to maybe do Dalky with B.Lo but I was really still dead. First from Spain and then from the day before. The body does need time to rest, surprisingly enough. So the day was mostly just relaxing. Attempted to celebrate a bit of James Joyce through Bloomsday but ended up in the city too late. Decided to check out the Ivy gardens on the other side of St. Stephen's green after a 99 cone [basically soft serve with a stick of chocolate in it, I don't know, everyone in Europe eats them] and it was beautiful. I mean actually all of the parks in Dublin are beautiful. Not only are they perpetually green of course, but they are kept so manicured and nice that you can just sit on the grass. There's actually everyone just on the grass, especially since the weather is nice and everyone just feels like lazing out in the sun. Honestly a perfect peaceful, restful day. Which is exactly what we need because it just hit us that we have about ten days left.
BETTER MAKE THEM COUNT - whatever that means :)

DAY SEVENTEEN

DAY FOURTEEN:
We had the day off Monday because it was a Bank Holiday! We had to go to the city to pick up some pharmacy supplies and we stopped at Beshoff brother's fish and chips for a typical Irish meal. It was such a typical day because it was drizzly and cold, we felt like real natives. I had quite the interesting cab ride home because most of the city was blocked off for the Africa run. That night's festivities...were much better than Sunday's to say the least. Yay bank holidays!

DAY FIFTEEN:
Went to Carr Communications today to see how PR is handled in other countries. It was a very informative visit and we all felt very official sitting in the boardroom. Too bad we didn't get any pics! The Irish PSA's are really intense though. Seriously. Campaigns that would never fly in America. Here is an example of one of their campaigns that they worked on *do not watch if you are squeemish...that's not even the right word, just be careful we were all really shocked**

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDdHWmnfYrw&feature=related

On a lighter note, that night was really fun [for me anyways] because we had a total dorm night. We stayed in and ordered pizza. Took care of some general business like booking our flights for the weekend. Had some girl talk and then visited with the boys downstairs. Ha, three years in and I finally had a typical college experience.

DAY SIXTEEN:
Our first real day of class this week. We looked at different models of communication used. After class we decided to do something as a big group and go to the Kilmaemn Gaol [Jail] pics to come soon since i'm in a rush, i'll just say that it was quite a startling experience. Definitely do not ever want to go to jail. Just saying. It was built of limestone and even in June was freezing cold. Aside from the fact that they were forced harsh sentences like 6 months of hard labor breaking rocks for stealing one cart wheel, the sentences were mandated to children as young as 8 years of age. It was even more devastating to hear that during the 1800's in the period of the famine people were trying to get into the jail just so that they would be guarenteed a day's meal. The Jail itself became a national monument because it was where the great revolutionary leaders spent their last hours. We were literally in awe at the bleak conditions. Quite the cultural experience.









On a lighter note, right after that a few of us decided to go to dinner with Brad and Mei-ling. After a few pints at Doyle's pub we proceeded a few blocks down to Gruel for the best bangers and mash ever, at the price of the special of the day. Can't get better than that! We also learned a lot about the background of our teacher. That honestly is one of the best things about study abroad. We really get to connect with Brad and develop a unique relationship that we could not gain just from the classroom and office hours. It was fun, and we stayed in to rest up for the weekend.



Which brings us to today...BARCAAAA! I'm half excited, half terrified. We'll be staying at a hostel? Hopefully? I'm serious, if this blog doesn't see some action by Tuesday start calling the Spanish coast guard. Not to scare you mom...ahh this is probably the most adventurous I've been!!!