Fancy a laugh?

So, a girl I know from good ol’ Atlantic, Iowa (A Town), is spending a year living and working in New Zealand and Australia. I’ve been following her blog and I must say the allure of beaches, sun, and surfing in New Zealand may influence my future travel plans. Anyway, I can’t help but share one of her most recent posts with you. It definitely made for a good afternoon laugh here in sunny Sevilla … hopefully it provides you with the same, wherever you may be …

Follow this link to her post, and the link at the bottom of her post to the video …

Continue reading...

brief update

So, I’ve been trying to keep my birthday under the radar. I don’t see much of a reason to get excited about birthdays. They’re important, yes, but don’t require special nights out, presents, and the like. I’ll be twenty three years old. I think a person should step back on their birthday and think about their life. Think about the person they’ve become. Think about what they want to accomplish with the rest of their life. Be thankful to be alive. But, this doesn’t require any action by anyone else.

I’m working Friday night – I didn’t see any reason to ask off. Quite frankly, I didn’t even think about it. I need the money. I like my job. So, I’ll work on the night of my birthday. But, as a coworker was leaving work tonight, she asked, “So, how old are you going to be on Friday Matty?”

“Twenty three,” I instinctively said. “But, whoa, wait, how did you know?”

So, who knows what will happen! I guess, if someone wants to treat me to a pint of Guinness, I won’t probably say no. It’s actually good for you, you know.

We’ve had some luck searching for couches in Norway. I’ve lined up a place to stay on the 26th when we arrive in Oslo. Brian purchased a Lonely Planet Norway book and has been researching and planning some sort of an itinerary for our time there. Fjords. Viking Ships. Who knows? From what I’ve read, despite being extremely expensive, Norway should be absolutely beautiful.

I realized today how much I love this town. I could see myself living here. I’m quite happy in Galway. Hell, I haven’t left since I arrived nearly two months ago. I think this is mostly because I really enjoy my job. I guess not surprisingly, I really like the hospitality industry. I enjoy the interaction with our customers. But I do reckon I’ll be happy wherever I eventually decide to settle down. I loved Iowa City and could see myself there. I loved Washington, DC, and could see myself there. Atlantic, well, I’m not sure I could settle down in Atown.

My roommates and I are planning our Christmas. We’ll make some sort of a dinner. Actually, I think Brian is going to bring a ham and a turkey from the Delphi Lodge. We also intend on jumping into Galway Bay. I made the suggestion weeks ago. It seemed like a interesting way to celebrate Christmas. Crazy, I know. Stupid, probably. Will it actually happen? We’ll see.

Continue reading...

your one

Today is the 15th of December – amazing how time flies. I have less than two weeks before I leave Ireland. I’ll miss this place, really, I will. Everything about it. I was walking up Shop Street today after work – it was windy, cold, and I was wrecked after eight hours at the cafe (I’ve caught another cold). As I was walking up the street, I said out loud to no one except myself and everyone that was walking by, “I’m going to fucking miss this country.”

I’m not sure what prompted it. One of the street performers playing their guitar? An old drunk walking down the street with his can – wishing people ‘Merry Christmas’ all the way? Overhearing the Irish accents of the people I passed? The pint of Guinness sitting in my stomach? Or, most likely, the combination of all of this and the realization that I have little time left in such a wonderful part of this world.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m unbelievably excited for what the next week, month, and year of my life will bring. I’m excited for the unknown. I still don’t know where I’ll be staying in Norway or Edinburgh – yet alone my nine days in Spain. Mom, don’t worry, I’ll figure something out!

I’ll end (as I often do) with a description of the title of this post. I’ve been trying to figure out some way to shed light on one of my favorite Irish phrases. I’ve picked up on many of the common ones – brilliant, grand, (occasionally) thanks a million (thanks a mil if you’re rushed), and the more common cheers. But, one I’ve been unable to add to my everyday conversation is the phrase ‘your man’ or ‘your one.’

They’re both really wonderful. Every time I hear an Irish person use the phrase I smile. Really, I do. My Irish friend Danny uses it often – and I love it. Or, for example, I’ll be working at Nimmo’s and opening a bottle of wine for table 10 and I’ll hear a woman on table 12 telling a story – I won’t have any idea what the story is about, but then I’ll hear, “… and then your man …”

So, I’m sure you’re dying to understand how it is used. Basically, ‘your man’ or ‘your one’ functions as a pronoun. Instead of, he-she, you use your man (or your one if it is a woman).

eg.

I was at work today and there was this lady on table 13 who complained about everything – in the end, what she had to complain about really boiled down to nothing at all. She just wasn’t happy. And, she wasn’t fun to deal with. So, when my coworker Courtney came upstairs, I said to her, “Your one down one table 13 is loads of fun (me being sarcastic). She’s a real headache.”

When I use it, it sounds scripted, fake, and pushed – and for this reason, I rarely use it. But, when a proper Irish lad or lassie uses it, it truly is … brilliant.

Continue reading...

new travel plans

Next up, Spain.

Brian booked tickets to Spain. We’re leaving the UK on the 9th and will be flying into Barcelona. We’ll be traveling throughout Spain until the 18th. I’m not sure what we will do, but I reckon we’ll make our way south and west to see our friend Cat in Seville. Warm weather and the sun will be a nice change from the cold, dark, days we’ll have spent in Ireland, Norway, and the UK.

As of now, we’re looking for potential couches to surf in Edinburgh and Norway.

Continue reading...

ireland with the parents: pints, b&bs, and more pints

At long last, I have posted pictures from the week I spent traveling with my parents. We had a fantastic time. The craic was grand. I was thrilled to find my parents loved the country as much as I do.

Ireland is an addictive place. It’s a beautiful country filled with brilliant and kind-hearted people. As someone my mother met said, “If the Irish were any more laid back, they’d be horizontal.”

I must give most of the credit for the below pictures to my mother. She acted as our photographer for most of the week. This is evident as most of the pictures include my dad and I. She took heaps of pictures and below I’ve posted my favorites from the week. There are plenty, so feel free to look at some, read my comments, and stop back later to view the rest.

This is me leaving the DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) station in Howth. I met my parents early Saturday morning. Notice my enormous backpack. As the days pass, I’m not loosing luggage, but gaining more. Namely, a tent and a daypack (thanks Bec!).

The harbor in Howth. Howth (pronounced Howt) is essentially a suburb northeast of Dubin.

Our first pints of Guinness. Plenty more were to be had over the next week. By one or two each day, we were ready for our ‘Guinness Stop’ at whatever local pub we came across. Drinking, a way of life in Ireland. It’s okay though, because Guiness is good for you. Seriously. The only morning we struggled with a hangover was the morning after the only night we drank anything but Guinness. The last night my parents were in the country, we had a bottle of red wine with dinner. Next morning? Headaches. One point Guinness.

Our first scenic stop. Glendalough (The Glen of Two Lakes) in the Wicklow Mountains of County Wicklow.

Dad and I at the Blarney Castle in County Cork.

Blarney Castle. Notice Dad’s eyes are closed. You will find this to be a common theme in his pictures…

Dad, kissing the Blarney Stone. “There is a stone there, That whoever kisses, oh he never misses, to grow eloquent.”

Dad and I at Charles Fort outside of Kinsale. An impressive site, this star shaped fort was built in the 17th century.

One of our many Guinness stops.

Mom and I outside of a bar / bed & breakfast we stayed at one night.

Oh, it looks like we should go … These sign posts are a common site in Ireland. In more rural areas, you often can’t even rely on the directions they provide. Be it wind or teenagers, the signs often point in the wrong direction.

beautiful

Sheep (in case you didn’t know). Plenty of sheep in Ireland. The vast majority of them have colors dyed into their wool. Why? We’re not entirely sure. In Cong, we met a young man at a pub who was a farmer. My mother asked him why some of the sheep have purple or other colors dyed into their wool. “No ma’am, we don’t have no purple sheep in Ireland.” He wasn’t the smartest lad in the pub, to say the least.

A spacious, country road. Plenty of room to meet oncoming traffic.

View from the Ring of Kerry.

Ring of Kerry.

Behind us, you see the remains of some old fortification. A castle? A monastic site? I don’t remember. The amount history in Ireland is fascinating. Everywhere you look, there are remains of an ancient building of some sort.

In the distance you can see the Skellig Islands.

closed eyes.

Skellig Michael. We took an hour long boat ride to the Skelligs with the hope of spending the afternoon there. Unfortunately, the seas had other plans. It was too rough to land.

By the time we got back, my jeans were soaked (and remained this way for the next five days).

pints

Looking quite American in my plaid, colorful, shorts and chacos.

A castle outside of Doolin. We took a shortcut on the way from the Rink of Kerry to Doolin. Mom was convinced we were lost. Fair assumption, as we were traveling down roads through cattle fields that were getting smaller, and smaller. But, she was wrong.

Enjoying a pint in Doolin.

A great trad session. We had brilliant luck with finding some wonderful traditional Irish music. It’s hit or miss, but the best sessions are impromptu, with locals showing up throughout the night.

The beginning of our hike from Doolin to the Cliffs of Moher. We left on a cold, wet morning. Not twenty minutes into our hike, Dad stepped into a cow pie and Mom a boggy puddle. We took an indirect route to the Cliffs – along the way, we dodged many cow pies, attempted to avoid the bogs, and ducked under electric fences. Only with me in Ireland.

Midway through the hike. A lunch break of sandwiches, crisps, and red wine.

Dad peering over the edge of a six hundred foot cliff. What?!

A small fishing village. Roundstone. This picture was taken mid-morning. Probably around 10. Low tide. Notice the red boat.

The same boat at around 5pm. High tide. According the fishermen we talked with, at this time of year, there is a sixteen foot vertical change in the tides. Fascinating.

Said fisherman, weighing the day’s catch of shrimp.

Pints in Roundstone.

View from ‘Sky Road’ in the Connemara. The night before we headed north to the Connemara, we met an old, drunk, lobster fisherman in a pub in Spiddel. We asked him about the Sky Road. “Oh, it’s a beautiful sight to see. Yes, the Sky Road, it brings tears to my eyes just to tink about it.’

On the way to the Aran Islands. We spent the day on Innishmore, the largest of the three islands off the coast of Galway (8miles x 3miles). The island is inhabited by few and provides the ideal setting to spend the day biking along its beaches, walking along its cliffs, and taking in its peaceful beauty. Unless, of course it blows and rains all day long …

… which it did.

Innishmore is covered with miles and miles of stone fences.

On our bikes, more stone fences behind us.

There isn’t anything too special about this picture, other than the story that lies behind it. For as beautiful as the island was, we picked a horrible day to bike around it. It was cold. It was rainy. It was windy. By the end of the day, Dad was a bit frustrated. In addition to the weather, we did a fare amount of biking – it really did seem like we biked slightly uphill the entire day. I didn’t mind, but it may have been a little too much exercise for dad considering we were on holiday. So, you can see Dad’s a bit perturbed in this picture. To be fair, I was somewhat stressed as I had to make a decision on working for face2face or not. But, then dad had the audacity to say, “You seem a bit surly.” Dad, you were the surly one! Anyway, this was moments after.

Empty kegs strewn about the pub

The view behind our b&b in Cong.

The grounds of the Ashfurd Castle outside of Cong. This 13th Century castle was once owned by the Guinness family and now serves as a luxury hotel.

We didn’t have a chance to go inside, but you can see the place is class.

The last day my parents were in Ireland, we hiked Crough Patrick (seen in the background). Located just outside of Westport in County Mayo, this 2,510 foot mountain is climbed by some 20,000+ religious pilgrims each year (many barefoot). Saint Patrick is said to have fasted at the summit for forty days and forty nights.

Matthew and Mark at the summit (not pictured here, Luke and John)

I hope you enjoyed the pictures. Mom and Dad, thank you again for a wonderful week.

Continue reading...

farewell, brian!

Hi, everyone. I just saw off my travel buddy in this year I’m spending abroad. Brian’s hours were getting cut back at the Wine Bar where he was working, and he decided he was ready for something new. He was ready to escape the busy streets of Galway.

He has succeeded in doing that, to say the least.

Brian accepted a position to work at the Delphi Lodge, in the beautiful Connemara of Northwest Ireland. Check out the link to find out more about the scenic area where he will be spending the next six weeks. I’m not entirely sure of what he’ll be doing (nor, for that matter, is he), but he’ll be assisting in the salmon farming that goes on at the Delphi Estate. It won’t be easy work, but it is right up Brian’s alley. “I’m a farm boy from Iowa who isn’t afraid of hard work,” is what Brian told the staff at the Delphi Lodge.

He is going to at least give it a week and see how it goes. Best of luck, Brian.

As for me, I’m off to check out a potential apartment that has a room to rent for the next eight weeks. If this doesn’t pan out, some friends from the hostel have rented a place near Galway’s city centre. They don’t have an extra bed, but they do have a couch. Even if I get the couch, I’m moving up in this world from the life of living in a hostel dorm room.

Also, I have pictures on the way from the week spent traveling with my folks. I’m working on descriptions of them but hope to have them posted in the next couple days.

cheers

Continue reading...

alive

Hi everyone. I wanted to quick post – really quick – and let you know that I am, in fact alive. I’m just finishing my first week with face2face. This is the first time since my last post that I’ve been able to sit down at a computer with internet access. I’m on my short break in a shopping mall. My feelings on the face2face job are somewhat mixed, but as for now it is providing income and a place to sleep – all very crucial things!

In training, we were told in not so many words that working for face2face wasn’t a job, but a lifestyle. How true this is. I wake up at 8, am on the road to the town that we are working by 8:30, and on the streets fundraising by 10. We are only scheduled to work until 6:00, but the earliest we’ve finished this week is 7:30. The work is difficult, long, and many times frustrating. To be true, it is rewarding as well.

I’m in Limerick right now and heading back to the streets to raise support for Barnardos. So, until I’m at a computer again, take care.

cheers, mk

Continue reading...

work

My days of roaming are coming to an end – I officially begin work tomorrow morning at 10am. Where I’ll be tomorrow night? Still up in the air. Advantages to soon having a ‘home.’ Personal space. A real shower towel. Income from the job. Disadvantages? The thrill of not knowing where I’ll be spending the night until 6 or 7 that evening.

From Cork, Brian and I hitched a ride to Youghal (Pronounced yall). Youghal was a splendid little beachside town. Our hostel should have been named the Beach Haven Hostel as this one was indeed a stones throw away from the beach. We arrived in the dark last night but had a chance to walk around town today. We found an old pub on the edge of town that had closed down – it was for sale. We decided we should purchase the building and bring Clyde’s back to life. Any potential investors out there? If I would have walked past a hotel that was hiring and provided accommodation, I would have stayed in Youghall. Alas, I didn’t find this hotel, so here I am in Dublin, ready to begin work for face2face tomorrow.

I don’t have much else for you. I should be attempting to sleep – early morning tomorrow. I’ll leave you with this …

Continue reading...

running

Today, I went for a run. It has been … well … a long time. I haven’t run since I left the states. I’ve been on the road for seven days, tomorrow. I don’t think I’ve ran since I had a home in Iowa City. So. It has been at least a month.

I question why I waited to so long. The obvious answer is that I’ve been in transit. When living out of a backpack (or a camper!), it is tough to follow any sort of a set schedule. As I write this last sentence I realize that I DID run while living out at the Res – a couple times, but the deer were honestly to friendly for my likings. Either way, I ran today along Galway Bay and it was great. It was cool and cloudy. Since I’ve been here, I’ve yet to experience an Irish rain. Last night, after we left the pub, we were kicking it with the Aussies next to Abrakababra (a food joint. I’m bringing one to the states), and it misted – but still not rain. I’ve seen the sun a couple times which is really enough for me. I’ve always said that in Iowa I love cloudy, rainy days. Every day has been cool, cloudy, and threatening rain. The run. I ran along Galway Bay towards the ocean. I never actually made it out of what is classified as the bay, but I ran along rocks, beaches, and clear ocean water.

As I was running, I approached a rocky peninsula, and on the end of this I found a thirty or forty foot tall cement structure that jutted out into the bay. There were people swimming off said tall, cement structure. There were people jumping off of said structure. (I put my feet in Galway Bay yesterday. The water came up to my knees. It was cold. At the time, I couldn’t imagine actually swimming in the water.) I somewhat confusedly walked around the benches that surrounded this swimming area. It was really a shocking sight. It was firstly shocking because the first thing I noticed was the arse of a seventy plus year old woman drying off after a swim. There were ten or fifteen people toweling off after their swim in the bay. There were older folks swimming back and forth along the bay and younger kids jumping off of the cement structure. I made my way to a lifeguard who was on duty. “Whats the water temperature?” I asked him. “17.5 degrees,” he let me know. I’ve stopped trying to make the translation from C to F. They deal in C, so I’ll try to do the same. I stripped to my running shorts and made my way up the stairs to the top of the diving platform. Looking down, I could see the bottom of the bay that I was preparing to jump in to. On my way I met a guy who had just got out of the water. “Hows the water temperature?” I again him. “I think its lovely, meself.”

Lovely

After making the 25 foot leap for the first time into the bay I realized, a) that 17.5 degrees C is cold and b) that lovely to me, and to a local Irish lad are distinctly different adjectives. The water was really spectacular though. Very cold, extremely salty, vividly clear, and refreshing after a two mile run. I would hazard to guess I will make my way to this cement structure again soon.

Brian and I left the hostel around seven today with the hopes of finding some grub for our one, substantial meal for the day. We stopped at five or six pubs along the way and found some great pints of beer, but no food that struck our fancy – most importantly, nothing that fit with our budgets. We opted to pick up some food at the grocery store/convenience store on our way home. Our meal – better than the assorted, pickled vegetables from last night – cost just over Eur9.00. Penne pasta, white ravioli sauce, and … drum roll … black and white pudding. Black pudding is an Irish sausage that comes with a traditional Irish breakfast. Have you read my linked Wikipedia article yet? It wasn’t good, but a cheap addition to our pasta. If nothing else, it served as a fantastic conversation starter at our common hostel kitchen.

The job / accommodation search is in the air as Brian and I wait to hear from a fundraising organization we sent our resumes to today. I’ll keep you posted.

cheers mk

Continue reading...

whats the craic?

Whats the craic (crack)? Irish for, ‘whats up?’ I’m sitting outside of a cappuccino bar in the Temple Bar district of Dublin. I’m enjoying a great cup of coffee – strong coffee. Suits me well.

I woke this morning to some inconsiderate hostel roommates. One of them decided it was necessary to dry her hair with a hair dryer at 7:30am. She didn’t have the necessary voltage converter so in turn fried her hair dryer. I can’t say she has my sympathy!

Overall, I’ve really enjoyed the hostel experience. Staying in a low budget, ten bunk room is a great way to meet fellow travelers. Two German students left this morning for Galway. One of them spoke amazing English. I am also bunking with a woman who is traveling from Paris. Her English is questionable, but it is undoubtedly better than my French. Rarely in Iowa do you run into any sort of a language barrier, but not surprisingly it seems to be more common in Ireland. I’d be lost in a non English speaking country. Maybe I’ll pick up another language while abroad?

Brian and I had our orientation with USIT this morning. Nearly everything covered had been provided in a book that came with my work permit. It was helpful to have the overview of what we need to do re: tax laws, registering immigration, etc. Until we have a tax certificate, our wages will be taxed at an emergency rate – 42%! Some of this will be refunded once we our issued the certificate.

Tonight is the last night in Dublin. I think as of now, our plan is to head to Galway tomorrow afternoon. We originally thought we might travel south through Cork and then up the west coast to Galway. EUR 5.00 pints and 2.35 cups of coffee have most likely changed that plan. I think it will make the most sense to get to Galway, find a flat, and search for a job.

The weather has been beautiful. Its 60 and partly cloudy right now. I’ve yet to smell an Irish rain. The woman who led our orientation said Dublin has had one of the wettest summers she can remember – 58 straight days of rain!

cheers

Continue reading...