Pictures: Dingle Peninsula, Co. Kerry, Ireland

Some entertainment at Dingle city centre.
A horse right next to our hostel. He posed happily for us.
And so we had tea before we left Dingle.
Dingle harbour/marina.
Fungie, the resident dolphin, is a celebrity in Dingle.
After hitch hiking failed we waited for a taxi at the sign for Ventry, and this sign gives the Gaelic name.

A beach at Dingle... this is the coast of Ireland.
And this is how we felt about them after walking for hours and not seeing them.
This is where we were supposed to go horse back riding along the beach and through the fields of Dingle Peninsula.

Pictures: South Wales (Newport, Gwent, Cardiff...)

The house I stayed in while in Newport.
"Croeso" is "Welcome" in Welsh, and the second word is Welsh for "Cardiff". This was outside the Cardiff train station.
A Welsh bumble bee!
Greenhouses at St. Fagan's.
At the gardens at St. Fagan's.
Castle at St. Fagan's.
Dovecote.
A gazebo like structure, now a sitting area at St. Fagan's.
The first is the fish house exhibiting all the equipment used over time to fish, and the second is the boat house, which has boats on display.
At the wool mill.
Outside of the wool mill.
Thatched barn. Looked like it was made of wicker.

Looking from the wooded area toward the castle and gardens at St. Fagan's. This reminds me a lot of the Van Trapp's house in Sound of Music. Doesn't it look like their yard?
From the castle/garden level.
A tiny part of the gardens at St. Fagan's.

Millenium Stadium, Cardiff/S. Wales pride and glory at the moment. (Though, not to be mistake, Cardiff is known for more since it is the capital and has the castle.)
From the "basement" part of Cardiff Castle, up to what I assume would be the ground level, but we weren't allowed to go up there.
The "basement" tunnel. You can walk this around a great deal of the perimeter. I chickened out after ten minutes... very creepy after a while.
A good picture of the setup of the watchtower at Cardiff Castle. You can really get a feel for the whole moat situation.

Cardiff Castle from inside the watchtower.
Looking down at the walkway from inside the watchtower.
From inside the watchtower.
The watchtower from inside the tower.
Walk up to watchtower (from exiting the tower.)
The watchtower!
Moat!
Inside Cardiff Castle the walls were amazing. I took many pictures, so it was hard to choose. There is incredible detail in every part of the castle, from the mouldings to the fireplace to doorknobs.
Stained glass.
Yes, that's a castle at the end of the road in Cardiff city centre. No big deal.
USA nails... I had to take a picture.
A castle off in the distance at Newport (not Cardiff Castle).
At the cemetery next to Dasha's house in Newport. Supposedly the oldest cemetery in the UK.
At cemetery.
Room I stayed in at Dasha's house.

It is so hard to choose which pictures to post. There are so, so many. This is a mere hint of the whole thing.

Glendalough, Co. Wicklow; Kilkenny, Co. Kilkenny, Ireland

The program through which I am here is EUSA. Today someone came up the nick name "EU-Suck". Yes, immature, but kind of captured our sentiments at the time.

So, we set out at 9:30, in a Paddywagon tour bus. It took us just over an hour to get to Glendalough National Park (real name has another word in there, like "Miner's" or something.) We had two hours to explore. Here are some nifty facts:

-The 'park' (which is what we'll call it for this blog) is the 7th most holy place in the world.
-Why? St. Kevin made the park his home. I don't remember his claim to fame, but he was really big with the animals (supposedly birds would come to him just to lay their eggs in his hand), he lived in a tree (before Butterfly!), and lived to be 120 years old. Do you think his hair was grey or did he not have any left?

Anyway, all that's really left is a beautiful cemetery with a great sampling of Celtic crosses (like fingerprints, not one is the same.) There's a tower still intact, a 'house' of some sort, and then ruins of a wall, or another building. You'll see in the pictures. So, after seeing all that nifty stuff, we went into the park itself. Beautiful views of lakes and trees. So green, so blue, just beyond gorgeous.

Unfortunately, we did not have time to get to the remnants of the miner's village. Back on the bus, and it's just over 2 hours to Kilkenny. We have very gross sandwiches, a little fruit, not very good tea, and then go to take a tour of Kilkenny Castle.

Or so we thought. Our "tour" was self guided with a little piece of paper to help. And Castle? Not by my book. It was bought in the mid 90's by Ireland for fifty pounds (the family who owned it just needed to give it up, but they auctioned off EVERYTHING inside.) Anyway, Ireland state went about "restoring" it and making it accessible to the public. Now, my tone may sound a bit bitter, and it is, but trust me when I tell you that very, very little about it was "castle". From the outside it looked like an appropriate term. But, not inside. Another thing: NO photography. Now, I might understand if it was really old and they were worried people would use flash even if asked not to, and flash can damage stuff-- BUT, nothing inside was new. On the conrary, it was all very new. I mean, it was replications of 1800's things, when the castle itself dates back to early 1200's. The wallpaper was fake, EVERYTHING was practically fake, except for a few pieces here and there-- mainly the fireplaces, and a toilet (which looked like it would have been very ineffective to use...) The rooms were poorly marked, so there was lots of guessing of location and all that. I'd guess at least half of the castle was not for view.

Very disappointing. But, when we got back on the bus-- feeling as if the day mostly a fail-- our bus driver was very nice and said we could ask him anything. So, for three hours he answered any question we could pull out of our... heads... anyway-- he was awesome. Not only do I love hearing things from a local's perspective, speckled with a bit of their own personal history, but I learned so, so much. For sure, I learned more in those three hours on that bus than I will and have so far in our class every week (which most of us want to protest, especially seeing as how it's not part of our grade.)

I'm doing laundry. (In my sink, heck yes. I'm not paying 3 euro to wash and 3 euro to dry. Ghetto chic!)

Will get to the pictures tonight or tomorrow morning... I know I've fallen quite behind with that. (Not sure if people actually keep up with this, but I try to get it all "down" before I forget, so pictures come second to the actual entries.)

Hope you all had a great weekend! At least the weather was absolutely fabulous here, and I got a rain coat from Penney's for only 7 euro (score).

County Kerry, Ireland (IN PROGRESS)

Lots of disappointments, and lots of great moments. A good dose of frustration, amazing scenic treks, blisters and hungry, the best food of my life, bumpy buses, waterfalls, and the best of all: I held a baby lamb. Okay, I'm a wee bit tired, but here we go:

Friday:

Kari and I leave our apartments at 6 am, taxi waiting, and go to Heuston Train Station in Dublin, which is on the west side of the city centre. We get there with time to spare, get on our train, and off we go to Killarney, a city in County Kerry. After two hours, we switch trains, and once we get off the train in Killarney, a nice man is holding a sign that has our names (misspelt, but still good intentions.) He drives us to the tour bus, where we pay and get one quickly. So, off we go. Where to? Glad you asked.

County Kerry is famous for two things: Dingle Peninsula (we'll get to that) and the Ring of Kerry. The latter is a circular journey which touches on all the "goodies" of the area. Our tour guide was quite the eccentric old man, who talked very openly about his marriage, his wife, and made quite crude jokes. Of course we laughed, but it's that kind of laugh you do with crazy people to keep them calm. He meant well, and added some great character to the tour. He sang us two songs (traditional Irish songs about the cities we were in at the time), and I'll admit, he had a great voice.

It's hard to explain the tour, which was roughly just under 5.5 hours. Here's what their website says (and I agree):

The tour leaves Killarney for Killorglin via the banks of the river Laune. Killorglin is famous for its ceremonious Puck Fair. Caragh Lake is on our left and then we get our first view of the Atlantic at Rossbeigh. The route then takes us to Cahirciveen where we see Valentia Island on the right. Waterville is next, then along the coast via Coomakista Pass and Derrynane, the home of Daniel O'Connell "The Liberator". From Sneem it's up the mountain to Moll's Gap and then down to Ladies View and home by the Lakes of Killarney. To describe this Tour in Detail is an impossible task as this is an experience you must "see & feel". The tour will stop at many point of interest and ample time is allowed for Lunch. (Corcoran's Tours)

Here's a map of the Ring:
For more detail on the specifics of the Ring, here is a good link.

I'll get into the specifics of the tour when I post the pictures (easier that way), but have to explain the baby lamb, because that is the highlight of my European stay so far. (For those unaware, I'm a huge fan of livestock, and not as food.)

We pull off into this gorgeous senic point, and we're snapping away pictures. This is after the lakes of Kerry, so we're high up looking down at lakes, and above us are mountainous hills. Basically, it was unbelievably gorgeous. If you look well enough, you can find a historic ruin every mile anywhere in Ireland, so we got a good view of a stone circle.

Anyway, since it's a tourist stop, these two men were ploped down on the pavement. One was playing an accordion, and the other had animals: two lambs, a baby lamb, and a BUCKET of kittens. I went to just go see them, but then the guy ker-plunked the baby lamb in this girl's arms, and my heart melted. I wanted to hold it! And I did. I cannot wait to retire and have a farm with sheep. It was very light weight, totally easy going. It was very affectionate, actually. You might not think of sheep as cuddly, but it was happy being held. It leaned into my arms, curled its body so it was easy to hold, and nuzzled its face all over me. It sucked on my hair and buried its face in it, and when I held out my hand, it sucked on my fingers. Precious. It tried eating my fingers, but had no teeth, so just gummed. Precious. I cannot even describe it.

After the tour, we get dropped off near the bus station, which after scoping out we go to grab food. We ate at a pub, which did not seem to care about our business, especially once a slew of old men locals came in. Anyway, we rushed out of there and off to the bus station, where we headed for Dingle. Now, I'll explain something. There's "Dingle Peninsula", and then there's "Dingle". Yes, Dingle is in Dingle Peninsula, but they are not synonymous. Suffice to say, our hostel was not very well located, as it was in Annascual, outside of Dingle. Anyway, the bus driver drops us off a bit from the hostel, and we trek it to the front door, where we meet, Brian. It has to be said that Brian is wonderful. Epitome of an Irsh "lad". Very easy going, not the most organized, but the friendliest ever. He runs the hostel himself, and he is very lax about it all. It was dirty cheap, and actually nicer than our last hostel, so thumbs up.

Also, our roommate (4 to a room) were these two travelers: Gillian and Alex. They had a car, and quite enthusiastically and happily offered to drive us to Ventry (our destination in the morning.) We chatted with them, and it was lots of great conversation. The most important part from the convo (note: Gillian is a local born and raised Dubliner/Ireland native): Dingle and surrounding areas are following Donegal's lead, and making their primary language Gaelic. What does this mean? Instead of signs reading: Dingle, An Dingean, they'll read An Dingean, Dingle. So, the English version is the paranthetical, and the Gaelic is brought to the forefront. Apparently there is some controversy over this, but Gillian was thrilled.

Well, we cannot find 'Long's Horse Riding & Pony Trek', which was our goal in Ventry. Gillian drops us off in Ventry, and we call John Long. We're two miles away, he says. So we walk. Mind you, the weather has been lovely the entire time. But, lots of walking plus sun equals sweat. Kari did a lovely pee-on-the-side-of-the-road, which I'm sure she'd love me mentioning. The walk was long, very long. We come to a little section of eating establishments, and enquire how much further to Long's. We keep hoofing. We see the sign! We go up a road... and up a road... and we're still following the signs... and still walking... and then we stop. By this point we've been walking for about 2 hours straight, with our big backpacks, in the sun. And, we realize that time is an issue, we're a bit not-in-the-mood as the magic has turned to frustration, and we also need to keep in mind that the further we walk is the further we have to walk back... plus the distance Gillian drove. You've got to be kidding.

So, we turn around and walk. (This is how the blisters were earned.) We try hitch-hiking to no avail, at which point Kari throws down and demands we call a taxi. So we do. They were very nice, and picked us up, and dropped us off in the city centre of Dingle-- for only 10 euro. Cheap. So, we get lunch, and find this lovely place on the marina. I had the best food ever: Seared tuna burger with tomatoe and black olive chutney. Sound amazing? You can't even imagine. beyond delicious. So, once we were fed, drank lots of water, and happy, we explored Dingle. And then we still had time (read: Dingle is not very big.) So, we located our bus stop, and then went off for some tea. We went to Bee's Teas, which was adorable, had LOTS of tea for 2 euro each, and then went off for the bus. So, then we went back to Killarney. We had an hour, so she went her way and I went mine and explored. I scoped out the mall and "amusements" around the area, like a carousel and bunge jumping. We get on the bus, and then get to Tralee, and get the train to Mallow, then from Mallow to Dublin Heuston, then take the Luas (like a tram, or monorail on the ground) to Abbey Street, and then walked to O'Connell, and went home.

And here I am. Exhausted. Tomorrow is Glendalough and Kilkenny. And then I'll post pictures of the last two weekends... so much work.

South Wales

Here we go:

Friday:

I left my room at 6:30, rushing to catch the bus. I get to the city centre and walk around searching for the bus station, which I'd been to but I was pressed for time, so a bit stressed. Of course, I was right across the street from it for twenty minutes. Anyway, I figure it out just in time, with mere seconds to spare, and get on the bus to the ferry. I get the ferr,y which is a huge process: you get a print out of your ticket confirmation, then you get your ticket, then you go through security, then up some stairs to a waiting room, then down some stairs, more security (which was really just people with badges standing around looking bored out of their minds), and then you get onto a bus, which takes you to the ferry, where you get off and get on the actual ship. Wheew! Did you follow that?

I get to Holyhead, and have twenty minutes to catch my train. I wander around for a minute, thinking the ferryport and train station are connected (which they are), but the train station was like ghost town, so I doubted myself. I asked for help, was redirected, and then got my ticket (which was pricey). Okay, now I have even less time, so I rush to get the train, and just make it. I change trains in Shrewsbury, Wales, and then disembark in Newport, S. Wales. Dasha, the woman I was couch surfing with, was waiting to pick me up at the carpark (which was another kind of nightmare to find.)

Dasha showed me around her house, and then introduced me to her daughter, Jessica (19) who comes home many weekends from university, and her son who lives at home, Dan (28). They were both wonderful. Dan is hilarious, and Jessica and I bonded over Sex in the City and Friends reruns.

Dasha was having friends over for dinner. Neil, her friend who is English, and his girlfriend Gwen, who is French. Neil and Gwen live in South Africa, and were visiting Neil's family and friends in Wales. Dinner was amazing. Some rock band was played, and there was just lots of good conversing. We listened to some songs by Stephen Lynch. Gwen and I got along great, especially because were the two non-English/Welsh outsiders. The whole night was a wonderful intermingling of accents, customs, heritages, and all that jazz. Invaluable.

Saturday:
I started off by 9, and went to a cemetery right next to Dasha's house, which is the oldest cemetery in the UK (allegedly.) Anyway, it was absolutely fabulous. I spent an hour getting lost among all the stone angels and headstones, and then went to the train station (an easy walk from her house.) I caught the bus to Cardiff, which was an easy 15 minutes. At Cardiff (the capital of Wales), I looked into a bus to go to St. Fagan's, the tourist event/museum that Dasha insisted I had to visit. Unfortunately, I had just missed the bus, which only came once an hour. So, I wandered around Cardiff city for a bit, which was fabulous. And then, behold! At the end of a street, just minding everyone's business, sits gigantic Cardiff Castle. I wanted to turn to the person next to me and say, 'Uhm, excuse me, do you see that?'

Anyway, I went in, got a souvenir, and then off I went to explore the castle. You get an audio tour guide which was pretty cool. The castle is basically like this: a well preserved old castle, that this guy bought/inherited in the 1800's. He, and his son after he passed on, took it upon themselves to spend their lives restoring and preserving the castle, which included lots of excavations and bringing in archeologists constantly to make sure nothing was missed and the history was accurate.

I spent a good three hours there, and could have spent more, but had to get the bus to St. Fagan's. Anyway, I got a wee bit lost, so instead of getting the 1:2o bus I got the 2:20 bus. The bus stop was right outside an entrance that wasn't the main one, but one right infront of a castle. Oh my gosh. I want a castle. You know how little girls grow up wanting a pony? Well, I want one of those too, but castle's kick ponies' butts right now. Anyway, there were these amazing gardens, which I'm not going to even try to describe. I had some crackers and a nectarine while sitting among the trees. I fed some baby ducks. And then I actually did the seeing.

St. Fagan's is hard to explain, but I'll try. It's a "museum", but not the kind you or I know. It's basically this castle and a bunch of land, that Cardiff bought and then decided to make into this incredible place. So, they uprooted a bunch of ancient buildings and moved them into the "backyard" of the castle. So, there was a boat house, and fishery, and a wool mill (run by water even today!), a dovecote, a townhome, etc. that are all old but bought and then relocated. Inside these dwellings are artifacts (in comes the "museum" aspect). For example, in the wool mill there was a guy making wool the modern way, but there were also samples of all the old tools used to make wool over time. Anyway, I spent a good two hours there, and even got to read among the gardens and eat some homemade Irish ice cream (very good, and the ice cream scooper was a cute young man.)

So, I left St. Fagan's and went back to the city centre with some time. So, I wander around a bit more, and then looked for a place to eat. I decided upon this cute place called Bella Italia, apparently an Olive Garden equivalent in the UK. I had an hors'de... of olives, then a main dish of goat cheese, spinach and tomatoes (no sauce though!), and then an amazing truffle/mousse cake, which was not too rich, and a nice glass of wine (not a puny one for being 'small'.)

So, I caught the bus back to Newport, walked back to Dasha's house, and had a lovely time chatting with her daughter and watching TV. Sunday morning I chatted with Dasha and her daughter for three hours, then hurried off to go back to Dublin. It was a very long and stressful (again, catching everything in time as I only had minutes in between my connections) trip back.

Back in Dublin Sunday night I met some interesting CA boys on the bus, and am still kicking myself for not giving them my number, because they were looking to hang out in Dublin for a bit and I guided them to Temple Bar, the bar scene in the city centre. Anyway, I'm waiting on O'Connell St. to get my bus back to Santry, and this random guy comes up to me... I'll spare you the fifteen minute conversation, but let me just say it was amusing to me, a bit offensive, and probably not the most appropriate as far as PC goes. But, I gave him my email, because he is supposedly going to email me 24 questions, which after I answer them and he analyzes my responses, he will know everything about me. The psychologist in me was utterly fascinated, while trying to not be insulted. I don't consider myself easily offended, but I was tired and taken aback by his abrupt conversation. An amazing story I wrote down for myself, tough, because I wouldn't want to forget it. We'll see if he emails me...

And here we are. Pictures to come... (some awesome pictures at that!)

Good with the bad...

Here's an update: there is some bad in all of this good. I'm trying to stay positive. So, here is how I'm looking at it all:

Good: I got to sit in on an Assessment at work Tuesday! This means I sat in the room while the psychologist got the history/story from one of our clients. If you sit in, then you automatically are the one to do the write up. I love doing the assessments. Doesn't seem like the other interns do, so I'm happily leaping to take them all. Since the other (3) interns are all leaving next week I'll be only one left, which I'm thrilled about.

Bad: Have not felt like the other interns like me. Very hard, so I just don't take and I do my work. Feels like American Idol: I'm not here to make friends! All the people here make it feel like high school, except my high school wasn't even this bad.

Good: Making amazing contacts!! I love the people (non-interns) I work with. The main psychologist, Garrett, is awesome. He entertains our questions, will have great conversations with us, tell us (confidential) stories, explain Irish perspectives, etc. etc... I had this great conversation with him today because he has his Masters in Organizational Psych (the field I want to go into) and he is interested in counseling of the person/personality, with an emphasis on the workplace-- read: he is going for exactly what I am aiming for. Fabulous.

Bad: My room kept flooding (due to the setup of the handicap bathroom, which is the room I got stuck with). The flooding was bad enough, but then it molded. A lot. It smelt worse than any room should smell, and mold was growing on surfaces upon which mold should never grow.

Good: They moved me.

Bad: Now, I'm not with Kari, who is my only ally here.

Good: Going to Wales this weekend! I have not planned for it much, mostly because I want to be able to just hop about because I think a lot will be based on what locals tell me to do (since it's really just a lot of gardens and castles.) I do want to see Buckingham Palace though...

Bad: I miss everyone so, so much. I am homesick a bit, I'll admit. No "culture shock", just miss being able to talk to people and having friends around. The Americans here are ready to pick us all apart... why is that?

Good: I love Ireland immensely. I'm seriously considering moving here. I've even looked into graduate programs (Trinity has one in clinical...) I could even live in Wales, it'd be under two hours commute, which is not much more than what I have now. I love it here.

Don't worry... I'll come home. But, seriously, I could easily live here forever.

And I'll leave it on a good note.

Pictures: Blarney, Ireland

Yes, I was terrified. It was scarier than it looks.
The Blarney "house". There was a car out front and you can't go in. We wondered if someone actually lives here, but we didn't find out... maybe we should have knocked.
No explanation necessary.

The underside (backside?) of a waterfall in the "rock climb".
View of towers form the top of the castle.


View from fourth story.
Looking into the castle from 2nd (or 3rd) story...

First step into the Blarney Castle.
Lookout tower.

Dungeons!
Pucker up!


First sighting of the Blarney Castle!



(No worries if you wish there were more pictures of something, because I took approx 380 pictures last weekend, so I'm only showing a sample.)