Home Sweet Home

I woke up wide awake at 4 am. Figuring it was pointless to lay in bed, I got up, and checked the Dublin Airport website, a new frequent site of mine. The flight information said that flights were operating normally, so I was hopeful as I showered, and got ready. I packed up the rest of my belongings and once again threw away my towels and sheets. I checked the airport website one last time and packed up my computer.

Now for the impossible task of lugging my luggage down the 8 flights of stairs thanks to the broken elevator. Thank you drunken fools. Both of my large suitcases weighed about 50 pounds each. Plus my backpack, and my carry on which was packed full, and then a bag of garbage. Needless to say, when I finally got downstairs with all of my belongings I was breathing heavy. The sun was rising over UCD, and I made my way down the street with my belongings, thinking the gate was closed so cabs couldn't get up to Roebuck. Turns out it wasn't closed, but either way, I called a cab instead of walking the mile to the entrance with all of my stuff. The operator told me that one would be there to get me in 15 minutes so I sat on the curb and soaked up the last moments in UCD-Belfield.

When the cab driver arrived, he got all my bags into the trunk and I said goodbye to the University College of Dublin. I told the cab driver I was going home to Chicago. He was quiet for about the first 10 minutes of the ride, but in true Irish fashion, that didn't last long. Soon we were talking about my time in Ireland, what I love and hate about Chicago, about drinking ages and hangovers, and life in general. We passed all of the things I saw on my very first day in Dublin-- the doors, the pubs, the Liffey. Things that have now become common and a part of my everyday. How soon we adapt to new surroundings. Soon we were pulling into the Dublin Airport. I paid the hefty 35 euro, and got out of the cab. The driver got my luggage out and asked me if I needed a trolley. I told him I'd be fine, but he insisted he would get me a cart. Glad he did. I wheeled my luggage through the airport and found the line to check in for American Airlines. I am pretty sure the only flight that AA operates out of Dublin is the one to Chicago so there was only one desk and it wasn't open yet. I made friends with a mother & daughter from Chicago in line and that passed the time until the desk opened up. I had to go through pre-security before checking in, an added precaution since I was flying to America. Safety first.

I got to the check in desk, paid for my extra luggage (all of which was miraculously underweight), and then headed through security. Through security and on my way to find my gate 313. I located it and had plenty of time, so I went to find the tax refund place. Honestly I only had about 12 euro in tax refunds but that's like $15 American dollars, so I went through the process of submitting all my receipts. Then I wandered through duty free for a while, got a Toblerone bar, and headed to my gate. I found a place to sit and read for a while. I got up to use the bathroom before we boarded and ran into Shannon and Katie who were also on my flight (original and new). They had to fly to Chicago and then fly from Chicago to Boston...seemed a little backwards to me but whatever.

We made friends with another student whose name I don't know, another Chicago boy. We all boarded and found our seats, mine conveniently located between an asian man with a diskman and an upper middle aged business man glued to his blackberry. 8 hour flight, and I wasn't really tired, so I read, listening to music, and slept for about 3 hours thanks to my Dramamine. It was all surreal, and when the Chicago skyline came into view, Dublin became another lifetime away. It was like I never left. Touchdown, and just like that, the adventure was over, and not even any RyanAir success music to signify it. I pulled out my American cell phone and turned it on...success. Within 2 minutes, I had notified as many people as I could text that I was indeed home. Instant communication to the outside world...definitely missed that. I followed the crowd towards immigration, waited to go through passport control, had the guy welcome me home and headed to the luggage carousels to grab my suitcases.

Through customs, with all my luggage and then out to free American soil. Welcome to the United States.

Returning to Dublin

After a long night's rest and waking up thinking about cancelled flights, we got up, and set out for another day. First stop, the train station, to see if I could catch a train back to Dublin. 67.40 Euros one way, no thank you. We found breakfast at the Bagel Bar, a place we've been to before in Cork, and must have forgotten how horrible the service was. We enjoyed our breakfast, then headed to the bus station so I could catch my 12 noon bus home to Dublin. I bid farewell to Claire & Grace and a big goodbye to Laura, my favorite Australian.

Four hours on a bus is a good time to sleep and listen to music. Given I had slept like 12 hours the night before, I was not tired in the least so I had some quality "IPOD therapy" and looked out the window. The four hours went by pretty fast and soon I was back in Dublin. As soon as we pulled into the city limits, my eyes went to the sky, hoping I'd see an airplane to give me hope of getting out the next morning. I saw none. But there was hopeful news on the radio saying that they were re-opening Irish air space. A little hope. I got off the bus, and headed towards the grocery to pick up something to eat. Then to a few bookstores to find some books to read on the airplane and the unlikely (or somewhat likely) event that I would be stuck in an airport for an extended period of time. I was a little more determined this time around to get home. After loading up on books and grabbing a salad for dinner, I headed home on the number 10. One last time.

I got back to my room after noting that the elevator was completely shut down. It had been working the day before..sort of. Laura may have gotten stuck in it. But I was hoping I could've at least used it for my luggage. Negative. I went back to my room, ate my dinner, caught up on my email and checked flights. So far so good. I finished packing my things and then headed to bed. Hopeful of a morning flight back to America.

Flight Status: CANCELLED

After three and a half hours of restless sleep, I woke up Sunday morning a little exhausted. But I got in the shower and got ready to go to the airport. Just as I finished blowdrying my hair and throwing all of my sheets and towels into an empty garbage bag I got the following gchat from Stacy: Our Flight Is Cancelled. My response was a feverish "WHAT?!?" And she quickly responded, "I'm not even kidding". Stacy Curry's travel luck strikes again. That and the Iceland volcano. Mr. Coleman was right, we should respect and fear its power. Stacy told me I should call the airline... which was a push in the right direction cause at that point, I was just staring blankly at my computer screen, not really processing. Problem #1: I had no phone credit left on my Irish cell phone, which made making phone calls impossible. Problem #2: The automatic "Top Up" wouldn't work, and customer service wasn't open for another hour. Solution: Skype. Yes, I skyped American Airlines with my free call that they give you. Success. Until I had to deal with the automated system, which at 6 am on little sleep, was about the LAST thing I wanted to deal with. After about 3290 menus, I finally reached an operator. She told me that the European Airline Authority and the never ending ash cloud had cancelled our flight. She then asked me if I could see it from the ground. My response was "No, the sky is perfectly clear, I feel like this is all a load of crap but what do I know". She told me that the earliest flight she could get me on was the Dublin to Chicago flight scheduled for Tuesday morning. Given that mother nature was the cause of the cancellation, I accepted this defeat and let my family know that I wouldn't be returning until Tuesday. I went downstairs to tell Stevie what was going on, since she was neither online nor had a cell phone. She was not pleased and set out to figure out her own arrangements. Next stop, Claire & Laura's to tell them that they would not need to say goodbye. Finally, I returned to my room, exhausted and disappointed. Figuring there was not much I could do, I fell asleep on my bed.

I woke up to a gchat from Claire at 10 am, asking if I was still here. I responded, yes, where else would I be? I told her I didn't know what Stevie & Stacy were doing and she responded "They left". I was in complete shock, still half asleep, so I went upstairs and talked it over. I was alone in Dublin with Claire & Laura's plans to leave the city in 30 minutes for an adventure around Ireland. Needless to say, I was a little upset. But determined to have the best attitude possible, I decided I was not going to sit in Dublin alone for the next 48 hours and pout about my cancelled flight, so I went back to my room, grabbed a toothbrush and a backpack and headed out with them on their adventure. Figure it out as I go.

We grabbed our stuff and headed out to say goodbye to Miss Matchett. Another tearful embrace and then we were on our way to the number 10, stopping at Centra so Laura could say goodbye to her one true love. We headed into Dublin, to the Busarus and got on a bus towards Cork. Like pros. I took the window seat and put in my ipod, to find perspective and to turn my frown upside down. I was definitely bummed to be missing the people at home who would only be home for a few days, as well as my best friend's bridal shower, but there's a lot in life you can not control. Volcanic Ash just happens to be one of those things. By the time we made it to Cashel and I had called my mom at the rest stop, I had a smile on my face. The expansive Irish countryside helped. A thousand shades of green. The sound of animals baaing and mooing. The abundant Irish sunshine.

We used our heritage cards to get into the Rock of Cashel for free. We explored the castle, navigated around the German tourists, and then found a patch of grass on the outskirts of the cemetery full of celtic crosses to sit and enjoy some homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies Claire & Grace had brought. The mountains and the endless fields and stone walls and animals grazing. Pure Ireland. I think we could have probably all sat there all day and enjoyed the scenery but we headed back down the hill, found a bathroom, and towards the bus stop.

I had about 6 euro in my pocket so I went to the ATM to withdraw money off my credit card, given that my checking account was about empty. "Can not complete the transaction". I tried two different machines. Hmm... this could be interesting. I returned to the others, who had found the bus stop and were perched on the sidewalk. Determining to get to the bottom of the mysterious money shortage, I called Chase, who told me that they would unfreeze my accounts which had been frozen due to the fact that I was using my card in Ireland. (Hello, Chase, I've been using it for 4 months in Ireland). We boarded the bus and headed to Cahir to see another castle.

The castle was closed when we arrived, so we set out to find another ATM and somewhere to have dinner. Once again, denied. This was beginning to get frustrating. So once again, I called Chase, talked to this quiet talker who I couldn't hear at all, and basically just hoped he figured out what I was trying to say. He said to wait five minutes to use it again so we went and found some place to eat. Slim pickings. Not in the mood to spend too much money, we found a little cafe and ordered greasy food. Cheeseburgers, chips. Not the best cuisine I've ever had, but it was food nonetheless. We returned to the ATM where I was finally able to withdraw money, found somewhere to sit, and sat in the sun waiting for the bus to come pick us up.

We arrived in Cork and found our way towards our hostel. As we were walking, backpacks on our backs, Laura's large mountain pack on hers, we were stopped by this older Irish man asking us where we were from. Chicago, Melbourne. He greeted us happily, told us to enjoy our time in Ireland, and walked away saying God Bless Chicago, God Bless Melbourne. I love the Irish. We found our hostel no problem and were greeted happily by another lovely Irish woman. She gave us the door code, we paid our rate, and she showed us around and gave us tips about Cork. Lovely. We checked our emails and just relaxed. I made friends with some people in the living room who were watching Friends. Hometowns: Minneapolis and Ames, IA. I love the Midwest. I also checked the airport website after hearing news about flights and the radio and found that all flights out of Dublin were pretty much cancelled. Looking not so hopeful.

We tried to find some dessert but couldn't so we just went back to our room and fell asleep. It had been an infinitely long day. But when it rains, you just gotta man up, grab an umbrella, and make the best out of what you have. And for me, that was another sunny day in Ireland.

Saying Goodbye

I woke up early to seize my last full day in Dublin. I packed more of my stuff, which seemingly mutipled in the last four months. Still craving pancakes, like I had been for the last three weeks, I googled "pancakes in Dublin" and found that the Queen of Tarts had a weekend brunch. Pancakes and the Queen of Tarts were both on my hit list, so I enlisted the interest of Stacy and Grace, Claire's sister. While Claire and Stevie took their last finals, the three of us hit the city in search of pancakes. We got off the bus and took a side street, where I mistakenly took Stacy for leading the pack. It was fine, we just did a little wandering and went by a bunch of the places we had stumbled upon on our first day. Dublin full circle. We found the Queen of Tarts, and ordered our pancakes and omelets. The place was super cute, like a little bakery, and the food counter had all sorts of cupcakes, tarts, and cakes that made our mouths water. Not quite the chocolate chip pancakes I was craving (I miss the weirdest assortment of food-- pancakes, Jimmy Johns, ice). But they were really good and garnished with delish strawberries and bananas. Given that we were enjoying our last day of vacation, we ordered dessert, the Queen of Chocolate Cake to split. Pancakes, then cake, perfect.

What goes perfectly with pancakes and chocolate cake? Whiskey. We headed to the Jameson Distillery to take a tour. A tourist must do, and we were feeling like we should do all the touristy things. We got our tickets, browsed the gift shop and waited for our tour to start. The Irish love John Jameson like they love Arthur Guinness, he is a hero and an icon. His family motto (former pirate fighters) is "Without Fear" and the Irish eat that stuff up. We toured the old distillery and learned a little bit about whiskey making and distilling. And to end it all, a free whiskey cocktail. Curry took hers with Ginger Ale, appropriate, mine with cranberry juice, and Grace with Coke. We enjoyed our cocktails, and then headed back to meet with Claire & Stevie who had been jealous of our Queen of Tarts experience and had gone there for lunch.

Stacy wanted to go see Oscar Wilde in Merrion Square Park so we headed there through Temple Bar. As we were walking through the lively Temple Bar, the sounds of a guy playing Jack & Diane floated out of our new favorite place, The Auld Dubliner. We decided to go in. Why not, right. Have another whiskey & cranberry before 3 pm? Sure. When in Dublin, do as the Irish do. Unfortunately as soon as we got our drinks, the live music stopped. Fail. We considered taking them on the road, but we decided to just finish them and head on our way to see the famous Oscar Wilde statue. Stacy wasn't wearing the proper shoes to scale it, but we enjoyed the Oscar Wilde quotes.

We headed back towards St. Stephen's Green and wandered through the park. We were going to make a pit stop in the shopping mall to use the bathroom but we stopped to see some street performer's act. A Scottish man who was going to "do freaky things with his body". Somehow Stacy became a part of the show. Typical. She had to inspect the bottle that he was going to smash and then lay on. Basically she had to stand in front of the crowd and act entertained while this guy did his act. He was somewhat inappropriate in his joke making and his stunts were mildly entertaining, but the fact that Stacy had to stand up there for like 20 minutes was probably my favorite part. After the show was done and the man had convinced all the small children to beg their parents for money to tip him, we headed through St. Stephens and down Grafton Street doing a little window shopping. I am going to miss Grafton Street, the live musicians, the street performers, the flower stands.

We headed to M.J. O'Neils to secure a table for our Last Supper with the Wolfpack. We were starving so we were anxious for the others to arrive. We had an array of true Irish meals. Stew & Bulmers for me. Corned Beef. Carvery. We enjoyed our meals and cheers-ed to Dublin. I think we were all in denial that it was our last time all together. We enjoyed our meal, and decided to do dessert in typical fashion, at a different establishment. We headed towards Elephant & Castle, stopping to give our love to Molly Malone.

I loved those moments, just together wandering the streets, laughing, feeling young. The wait at Elephant & Castle was really long, and they wouldn't let us take our cheesecake to go so we gave up on that dream and headed to find some live music. Gogarty's never lets us down. As we climbed the stairs, we heard the familiar rhythm of "Galway Girl". Perfection. The band played a bunch of Irish favorites and ofcourse Johnny Cash. There was a bride and her hen party, dancing, the bride looked and was dressed like a clown. And while the music played on, I couldn't help but feel sad. I just looked around and soaked it all up. These are the moments that'll last forever. The band played 7 Drunken Nights upon Stacy's request and we all sang along. A few more reels and jigs and then Wild Rover. We sang and clapped along and then headed out.

We sat in the street, trying to figure out what to do. None of us really wanted to go home, because going home meant that we'd have to say goodbye, and I don't think any of us were ready for that. But after a few failed attempts, we gathered in the middle of the street, huddled up and said goodbye. Nothing would ever change how much these last four months had meant to us. Tears were shed, and like a change of events, tears spread from one to another, until we were all crying, except Grace, who was probably laughing at us standing in the middle of the cobblestone, as the Irish music filled the air, sobbing. Strangers had become friends, and friends had become our own little Irish family.

After the goodbyes had been said, we headed for the bus, as the Dublin rain started to fall. Like our emotions. We got on the bus and went home. We retreated to our respective apartments. Laura, Claire, Grace, and I stumbled upon the elevator which had literally been torn apart by some drunken fools. Glass everywhere, the number paneling ripped off the wall, ridiculous. Which means that I will be carrying my 4 suitcases down the 4 flights of stairs. Thank you, idiots. Just as I got into my room and took off my jacket, the fire alarm went off, and it is about the most obnoxious alarm in the world. I evacuated and found the girls outside. More antics of the drunken students celebrating their last day of exams. I had to still pack and be up in 5 hours to catch my flight. Not pleased. Finally we were able to go back in, but the alarm continued to go off. I finished packing, headed up to say goodnight to the girls, and went to bed to get my 4 hours of sleep before my expected departure of Dublin.

It's A Beautiful Day, Don't Let It Get Away

To be honest, I woke up slightly depressed. The goodbyes at the Wicked Wolf had left me a little sad and not ready to say leave. But I was determined to make the most of the day. Stacy, Laura, & Jen had finals. Stevie was studying and Claire & Grace were going on a tour. I tried to join them but the tour was full. Desperate to enjoy the countryside one last time, I decided to head back to Howth. My last time there was pure magic and I figured a day by the seashore would be a good last memory of Ireland. I headed out on the 46A to the city center, exchanged my bus refunds for 7.50 euro, bought a sandwich, rice cakes, and a candy bar from Dunnes and headed to Connolly Station to catch the DART.

I bought my tickets, found the platform and waited for about 20 minutes for it to come. I munched on rice cakes, and ended up dropping a piece, which become food for the pigeons. Who literally battled for it, up and down the tracks, it was surprisingly entertaining. The DART only took about 20 minutes, and I just listened to my IPod and stared out the window.

I arrived in Howth, and set out towards the harbor. We had heard that seals were known to frequent the harbor and last time we were in Howth, it was too cold to venture to see them. I approached the dock and found a group of people standing by the edge. I walked over and saw 4 or 5 seals just swimming around. Some kids were throwing fish in and feeding the seals and they dove and splashed for them. I felt like a little kid at the zoo and couldn't take my eyes off this old seal who just looked at me and smiled, that is if seals can smile. I could've probably sat there all day and watched them, but I decided to keep walking. I walked along the docks and then climbed down the shore. I sat for a bit and listened to the waves crashing against the rocks. I picked some seashells and headed up the hill towards the hiking trail. Everything was a greener shade of green and the yellow flowers exploded upon the mountain.

I hiked to the top of the little mound and stood and enjoyed the views of ocean all around me. It began to sprinkle, so I pulled out my umbrella. I had prepared for the elements, four months in Ireland will teach you that. I strolled around the peninsula enjoying the scenery and listening to my ipod play. The sun came back out and I hiked down to the edge of the cliff. I sat and watched the birds flying, the waves crashing, and the sun shining. I laid in the grass and looked at the sky and thought of the last four months. The rain came again, and I just put up my umbrella and let it fall down beside me. Maybe that's the metaphor that best explains the four months. You can't stop the rain, you can only man up and go outside or sit inside and hide from it. And fittingly, the songs played on my IPOD reflected the moment perfectly. I always believe in song lyrics as signs, perfectly placed to make you see something that perhaps you can't see yourself. Shattered by O.A.R. played and my whole Ireland experience came full circle. And then A Beautiful Day by U2. Irish men who know what they are talking about. I think that Ireland has made me a U2 fan.

It's a beautiful day, don't let it get away.

I kept moving, and stopped to get my sandwich out of my backpack and eat it while I walked. The rain continued to fall, then the sun came out. I came to the crossroads of the path, and decided to take the long way home. I was in no rush to leave the sea. The path that followed was one of the best hikes I've ever been on. Not a person in sight, wandering, but without getting lost. The hike was along a rock wall, that reminded me of P.S. I Love You. The sea was at my left, the countryside at my right. Then through this forest area, up and down rock steps, emerging in the sunlight.

I found another piece of grass on the edge to sit down and enjoy my dessert. The cliffs were alive with the crashing of waves, and there were a few fishing boats in the distance. The sun was warm, and it was completely silent except for the melodies of my playlist.

I found a path down the cliff to the shore, so I climbed down and found a couple and their dog playing catch. It began to pour so I took out my umbrella again and continued to explore. The rocks had this redish hue to them and I found a box that from far away looked like some kind of treasure box. For some reason, I thought of the Goonies.

The rain subsided and I hiked back up to the trail and passed some fisherman with their poles. There were little gates everywhere, and it was just picture perfect. Another rain shower. At this point, I had to pee real bad. I had to for about the previous 3 hours, and the seashore and the rain were not helping. So I found this cove and reunited with nature. I laughed at myself and the situation, and continued going.

Up and down more rock steps, and along a rock wall. Which upon closure inspection was actually thousands and thousands of seashells. The trail led me down to the beach where I dropped my backpack and umbrella and wandered, picking up rocks & blue seashells.

The sky behind me was a perfect blue and I swear I saw a heart in the clouds. I was searching for a rainbow, my favorite Irish miracle. No dice. The trail led me away from the seashore, up the hill, across and road and through the yellow flowers.

I continued walking along the marked path and found myself at the Howth County Golf Course. Signs told me I had to walk through the golf course to get to the other side. I love golf courses, it's peaceful, and this one had amazing views. I may have been so caught up in the moment, thinking of the Florida friends, that I missed the small rocks that I was supposed to follow. Needless to say, I wandered through the golf course, obviously out of place, until a nice woman with a group of gentlemen golfers, called me over and asked if I was lost. She explained that many people miss the trail, and that she'd lead me to it, so I wouldn't get clocked in the head with a golf ball. My green sweatshirt probably didn't help, since I pretty much blended in with the greens. I bid her farewell and thanked her, and continued on.

Through a forest, breeding grounds for shamrocks. Success. Picked a few, and headed on. The trail led me down through some residential areas and finally to the main street across from the DART. There was one waiting so I boarded. 6 hours of hiking and who knows how many kilometers, it had been an infinitely good day.

My good day was sidetracked by an incident on the DART that shut down the line. We were told to get off at the Howth Junction and find a Dublin Bus. I followed the crowd, waiting for a while for a bus, and made it into the city center. My 20 minute DART ride turned into a 2 hour ride into the city. I caught the 10 and headed home.

And then, like the perfect ending to a perfect day, a beautiful rainbow filled the sky and remained there until I made it home. It was so bright, and so beautiful. I know the scientific explanation, but there is just something so majestic about rainbows.

I got home and went upstairs to spend time with the girls for a while. They were all studying so I just enjoyed their company and uploaded some pictures. Then it was time to rest up for the last day in Dublin.

Sunset outside of my apartment building

The Wicked Wolfpack Sings Its Last Song

Although we've come to the end of the road, I still can't let go. It's unnatural, you belong to me, and I belong to you.

Here's the day we hoped would never come. The last Thursday night at the Wicked Wolf. Much anticipated. After a day of packing my things and organizing my life, we all got dressed up and took the newest arrival in Dublin, Claire's little sister Grace, to Blackrock for dinner before karaoke. We had never been to Blackrock in the daylight, but we found a little pub called Jack O'Rourke's and settled in for some traditional Irish food and a Caesar salad. We had some Bailey's and headed towards the Wicked Wolf. Much earlier than normal. We took a detour to take a view of the sea, and we ran into Brock along the way. We offered to help him bring in his stuff....groupies for sure.

The Wicked Wolf was full of the after work crowd. Some type of work mixer. Eugene pointed to an empty table for us. This was not the same Wicked Wolf. Light was streaming through the windows and we could see the bay. And they were playing Eminem. But like clock work, the crowd shuffled out, we took our front row seats and Brock got going. He came up to us and chatted with us and talked about our last night and told us that we looked nice.

He started the night out slow, but quickly dedicated our favorite song HUMAN to us announcing to the whole bar that it was our last night and that this one was for us, who had become regulars. We took to the dance floor, and he even changed the lyrics and made some Chicago (and Melbourne) shout outs. Perfect. Then Ring of Fire...which Laura and I decided to interpretative dance to. He then dedicated another song to us. A U2 song called "The Unforgettable Fire". He said that we had left an unforgettable fire at the Wicked Wolf. Way to make it even harder for us to leave. But before he could finish and hand the microphone off, he sang "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World". Another dedication to us.

Alastair took to the stage, the X's went up, and he serenaded us, his favorite Americans with "You Raise Me Up" and "A Million Love Songs". Supposedly he is auditioning for the X Factor on Saturday at Croke Park. Let's hope he makes it, so we can watch him when we are back in America. He promised us if he made it famous, he'd buy us tickets back to Dublin.

Then we had a girl sing a very poor version of Barbie Girl. Not good. She didn't really sing, as much as just say the lyrics, off tune. Then her friend serenaded her boyfriend with Spice Girls' 2 Become 1. She was decent, but the googly eyes she was making at her boyfriend were somewhat disturbing as he mouthed the words to her. She then sang OUR song which we had literally waited all semester to sing. American Pie. And she butchered it... but we danced anyway.

Claire & Stevie took the stage to sing "What A Girl Wants". The version was a little different so they had a bit of trouble but mastered it pretty well. Then Claire & Grace sang "Don't Stop Believing". Which is just always a jam. Fist pumping, Stacy Curry jumping, Aussie rules moves. Brock called us to the stage to sing our selection of the evening. "Save Tonight". The perfect goodbye anthem. It ain't easy to say goodbye. It was so surreal, I am not sure any of us are really truly aware of the fact that we're leaving on Sunday. And never coming back. At least not to live. I think if we really knew that it was our last night, we would have cried.

It didn't seem like the usual Wolf. Maybe our expectations were too high. Maybe it was the fact that the normal barkeep was not there and we had some other random person pouring our pints. Usually Stefan knows what we want. Or the fact that raspy voiced Mark had called in sick and no one was there to sing Gangster's Paradise or Streets of Philadelphia. Or maybe we were all just more melancholy then usual. But we did all we could do, and lived like Gaga, and just danced so it would be okay.

We did have the pleasure of a "one trick pony" who was break dancing all over the dance floor. He entertained us and spun us around. His friend got up and sang Home for us. Another depressing anthem about sunny days we are lucky to know. We swayed on the dance floor, and tried to delay the misery.

Alastair got up again to sing our song for us. "You Are Not Alone", dedicated to us. Theme of the evening. We swayed along, Brock stood behind him and swayed his lighter in the air. Then the guy who sang Home and one of the "Don't Stop Me Now" ladies got up and sang "The Time of My Life", another song we considered singing. We did our best Swayze & Baby impression, jokingly dancing and pretending to run to Brock for the signature lift. We serenaded Brock and told him that "we owed it all to him". Cheesey, perhaps.

Don't Stop Me Now & Don't Stop Believing (Round 2) were next performed by the usual ladies. Laura got up and sang "Love Song" and rocked it. Solos were the theme of the night, as it was our last chance. Me and Laura were going to rap to Gangster's Paradise in traditional form, but Brock did not get to us. I am not sure it would've been the same anyway, since I don't have Mark's raspy voice.

Sam and Aoife then sang "Wonderwall", a song that will forever remind me of Claire trying to imitate an Irish brogue while in a cab and tried to sing this song.

"Home" guy took to the stage again, and sang an American classic for the American girls. "You've Lost That Loving Feeling". Which apparently I have since he serenaded me while his friend spun Stacy around the dance floor. Not quite Maverick & Goose but Stacy and I appreciate any Top Gun singalongs we can get.

We had waited all semester to sing American Pie so we weren't going to let the fact that the other woman had sang it stop us. But Brock played the Madonna version for us. Which was a little different. The stage was also rushed by our dancer friends. It wasn't quite the well executed American Anthem we were looking for....but still ridiculous as we all crammed on the stage and sang with friends (old & new) the timeless classic.

And then it came, the literal and metaphorical End of The Road. A final dedication to us. We all swayed together as Brock & Alastair sang their final rendition of the "End of the Road". And all too soon it was over. We took some photos, we did the usual impromptu singalong with Alastair. Some old guy told Stacy that Alastair may have the "X Factor" but she had the "Sexy Factor". That's usually our cue to leave. We hugged Alastair and found Brock once last time. He told us that he "doesn't like Goodbyes, so this is until next time", wished us luck, and gave us all a hug. We headed for the door and Eugene told us to "be good, and have safe travels home, and find the Wolf on Facebook". And just like that, we bid farewell to the Wicked Wolf.

Appropriately, it was raining when we emerged from the Wolf. The weather reflected our moods. We went to Supermac's, found our favorite worker, who knew our "tenders" order. We got chips & tenders, slathered them with ketchup, and enjoyed our last Supermac's Afterhours. Laura, the warrior, purchased 3 diet cokes, determined to pull an all nighter since she has a 9 am exam and needs to study, but wouldn't let that stop her from coming to our last night. I finally had the award winning tenders, which are as good as they are acclaimed to be.

We found a "maxi taxi" to fit all of us in, and headed home. The taxi driver was not too entertaining, although we had a good laughs about the asshole Irish drivers. And my alter ego, Whitney.

Said goodnight and went home, all just a little depressed. All good things must come to an end, I suppose. But the fire we left at the Wicked Wolf perhaps lies within all of us. The desire to take the stage, dance with all you've got, make friends with strangers, and find that all we need out of life is a few good songs, a few good friends, and a few good laughs.

Sing Your Heart Out.

With exams over, and Dublin calling, Stacy and I headed into the city center to do some shopping. Going home with ANY money in our bank accounts just seemed foolish. So we hit the town with a few missions in mind. Bus refunds. Carrolls. And checking out the local department stores for a new outfit. We felt like really cool tourists with our Carrolls bags. And I would like to know how many Carrolls stores are in Dublin. There's got to be at least 12.

We spent most of the day wandering through Henry Street wishing we had millions of euros. We stopped for a sugar lift at the cafe in Debeham's. Stacy got cappuccino and luxurious chocolate cake and I got a chocolate muffin shake. It was good but not as good as Portillo's Chocolate Cake Shakes. After a few hours of shopping, Stacy headed back home and I finished up looking for things. I headed home a bit exhausted, so I decided to take a little nap before our plans to head out on the town.

Stacy and I went over to Megan's at about 10 to hang out before going downtown. We listened to some 90s music in one minute segments, while we talked about all our summer plans. Mariel & Allie joined us and we waited for Megan's friend James to arrive from London. He is a journalist in London, covering mostly music, and had a sweet accent so he was definitely a treat. He showed up, well dressed, and insuring us that he was not gay even if he called the lead singer of Kings of Leon good looking. We headed out about midnight, caught a maxi taxi and headed to Harcourt Street.

We tried to go to D2, but it was closed, so we headed to CooperFace Jack's. The clubs here are just like in the row of townhouses. This place was pretty cool and the music selection was awesome. They played all of our favorites, Total Eclipse of the Heart, Don't Stop Believing, Don't Stop Me Now, Galway Girl. And ofcourse there was the Westlife songs...When You're Looking Like That. Great European Popstars. We ran into Chris and his friend whose name we can't remember. They played Sex on Fire and Mr. Brightside and we were jamming out and screaming it as loud as we could. Madness. Tequila. Let go, live free, dance it out. James was playing the air guitar. The only weird thing about this place was that there were a lot of older people there. In suits. Like the businessmen's Wednesday night hang out?

We lost a few of the group, so once we finally assembled we headed out to catch a cab. We found a maxi taxi and Stacy flagged him down. His name was Alan and like us and every other cab driver in Dublin, we befriended him while we waited for Megan & James to come. They had wandered off down the street. Alan made fun of James for being British and we all jammed out to "With or Without You". Classic. I am going to miss these nights, singing loudly, U2, and the world's most friendly cab drivers. Stacy even sang "Alan's Song" for him.

Home. Bed. Chatting with Lindsay. Glee. Falling asleep at 4:30 am.

Pub Music, The Music of My Soul.

Tuesday Night meant the end of exams for me and time to enjoy the last few days in Dublin. While the rest of the Wolfpack was studying for their remaining exams, I convinced Stacy to brave the rainy night and go out on the town. We decided to head towards Temple Bar for a chill night of pubs and live music. We figured we'd chill for a while and head home, which translated into us coming home at 3 am. Woops.

The rain had subsidized enough for us to get to Temple Bar. We found the first pub that had live music playing and made our way inside. The Auld Dubliner. A new one for us. And a definite home run. We found a barrel and some stools, got some Bulmer's and listening to this dorky guy play some of our favorite hits. When he broke into "Save Tonight", Stacy and I looked at each other with these looks of sadness, clinked our glasses together, and cheers-ed to Dublin.

Well we know, I'm going away, and how I wish, I wish it weren't so, so take this wine and drink with me, and let's delay our misery.

Tomorrow comes with one desire, to take me away. It ain't easy to start goodbye, darling don't start to cry, cause girl you know I got to go, and Lord I wish it wasn't so.

The perfect anthem. And our choice of Karaoke goodbye songs for Thursday Night at the Wicked Wolf. The guy continued to play hit after hit and some Norwegians got up to dance. Tourist central. He even played "Business Time", the Flight of the Concords song that we joke is "my song", cause I'm always down to business. He ended his songs, and we decided to move on. Across the street to Gogarty's. Upstairs was live traditional music. I ordered a Bailey's and we sat and enjoyed the music for a while and chatted then decided to head back downstairs. The traditional music was nice, but I prefer music with lyrics. We were just going to finish our drinks, but then the music was too good to leave. When American Pie came on, and this goofy Irish man next to us literally "kicked off his shoes", we knew the evening was going to be humorous. He had on a purple zip up sweatshirt, and when he noticed us laughing at him, came over and wrapped Stacy in his sweatshirt and swung her around the dance floor. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt and I couldn't breathe. His friend twirled me around the dance floor and we laughed at purple jacket's moves.

The song selection continued to rock. The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Take Me Home Country Roads. Which Stacy was in the bathroom for, but came sprinting out and jumping up and down. She loves that song. The random Irish people I was talking to gave me a look and I just told them she loved that song. We must have had a sign on our backs that said "We're friendly Americans, come talk to us" because we made friends with every person in that bar. Mostly the creepy locals who come to the tourist spots. We moved into a booth, and instead of escaping, we got trapped by some businessman from Seattle & Missouri. Stacy inquired if the Missourian was from Illinois because he had on a corn festival t-shirt. Meanwhile, the Asian from Seattle was asking me if "I was here with anyone". I laughed and pointed to Stacy. I should've told him my handsome, ripped boyfriend was in the bathroom. Maybe then he would stopped talking to me. Asian tourists are not my type, especially ones whose next stop is Amsterdam to "get their weed on". I started chatting with his Irish friend who was much less weird and as soon as possible I got out of the booth and found Stacy who was making friend with old businessmen who she had apparently cut in front of when ordering drinks. The businessmen offered to buy us drinks, but we declined and tried to escape from the numerous groups of creepers that we had befriended. We sought shelter in the bathroom for a few minutes, to laugh about it. We went back upstairs and found friendship with an Irish woman who decided to dance with us to Build Me Up Buttercup in typical "save me" form. Perfection. We also danced with the Gogarty statue...

When the businessmen asked to dance with Stacy and prepared to take off his suit jacket we took it as our cue to leave. We found a cab and Stacy unnecessarily took the front seat. She likes to chat with our cab drivers. This one turned out to be from Nigeria, been in Dublin for 9 years, and inspiring to go to Chicago someday. That's where he would go if he "had a ticket to the world".

Home. 3 am. Bed.

UCD Exams

Like everything else, UCD does examinations a little bit different than the University of Illinois. Starting off, the students get a whole week for "revisions" or studying time. At home, we get one day to "read". So we took advantage of the week given for studying and went to Italy to study Italian cuisine and culture. Then exams take place from May 4-May 15 which spans over two full weeks and one bank holiday. My 5 exams all took place over a 3 day span in that two weeks which actually was fine with me. I had International Marketing at 9 am on Saturday, Irish History at Monday morning at 9 am, Understanding Entrepreneurship at 6 pm Monday Night and then Cross Cultural Management at 3 pm Tuesday and Business Excellence at 6 pm. Done.

It was a lot of information cramming but nothing worse than any of my exams at the University of Illinois. The grading system is much different here so it'll be interesting when I finally get my grades (in late June) to see. All of my exams were essay format, so the grading is rather subjective.

The next difference is that exams take place off campus at the Royal Dublin Society. It's about a 40 minute walk from UCD. The University provides a shuttle bus every 20 minutes. ONE shuttle bus. That fits about 40 students. The exam hall holds over 2,000 students. Not really adequate transportation and some people have seen people get into fist fights and shoving matches to get on this bus. Not the way I want to start off my exam, so I took the nice scenic walk to the RDS Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday. I enjoyed the walk, and usually had my signature Eminem pre-test music pumping. The Royal Dublin Society is pretty much a large barn. It is the type of place that would usually hold craft shows or horse competitions, but for two weeks in May, UCD drops off 3,000 desks and it becomes exam central. I was at desk 2,283 for one of my exams. You are not allowed to bring anything into the room (or arena rather) and it smells faintly of livestock. One man announces for all the exams, and he likes to crack bad jokes about how many people we have taking tests. But like most Irish he tends to mumble so no one is really sure what he is saying. I tend to think he is like the University President because he is always rocking a suit, but who really knows.

The exams went fine. It's hard to say because their expectations and grading scales are so vague that we weren't really sure how much to write, etc. But it was so nice to finish on Tuesday evening, that I didn't even care that I had to walk/run home in the pouring rain. When I stopped at Centra to grab a sandwich for dinner, I was literally dripping wet. Nothing like playing in the Dublin rain.

Junior year. Done. How did that happen?

Saturday Night at Church

After taking our International Marketing and being somewhat fed up by the lackluster professor we had named Simon and his equally incompetent sidekick Qun Tan, we decided we deserved a few hours off from the library and the books. Jen and I laid in the grass in the sunshine for a bit, until the wind got too chilly (it still feels like March, not May here). We considered being productive, but then we decided to watch the beginning of Mulan. Which ended up turning into watching the whole movie. Surprise surprise.

I went home and showered and got ready to go out to dinner. None of us had really left the confines of UCD in a while and we were in the mood to get out on the town and enjoy Dublin while we had it. Rather, I was in the mood. The rest of the group was laying in their respective beds, taking naps. I convinced them to get up and man up and explore with me. Given my love for the road less traveled, I found a new restaurant for us to explore. I had read about in an airline magazine (yea, I have spent THAT much time on a plane recently). The restaurant was called "The Church" and basically a church that was converted into a restaurant/bar. It had good reviews but I never promise anything. I found that they had a BBQ terrace with a special menu which was a little more in our price range and we headed out. We took the usual bus to the usual stop on O'Connell and walked down Henry Street, which in my 4 months I have yet to explore. Win. We found the restaurant with no problem and found a table on the terrace. We got our meals-- a hamburger, assorted salads, and a baked potato and enjoyed them. It was a little chilly on the terrace so after we finished eating we decided to move inside to the bar area.

The inside of the place was beautiful and the building itself is one of the oldest balconied churches in Ireland. It is also the place were Arthur Guinness (man behind the famous stout) was married. To commemorate this, his bust is available "for great photos". It is also the final resting place of the judge who sentence Robert Emmett (Republican Icon) to death. It has beautiful stained glass and an old school organ and right in the center is a fully stocked bar. Kind of strange. I'm not sure how we felt about the drinking in church concept, but we ordered Strawberry Daiquiris and cheers-ed to God. Claire & Laura ordered a chocolate fudge cake and enjoyed that. I think that if food was served in church (like popcorn during a movie) people would have a better attention span during the sermon.

I am rather surprised that this restaurant hasn't had much more criticism. People are literally having cocktails next to a wall that lists the ten commandments. I am not much for the separation of church and state, but somewhat between sinners and sainthood. Still, it was a very unique restaurant and I enjoyed it. Plus there is something about sipping a daiquiri, listening to Bon Jovi, surrounded by the artifacts of God. A reminder of all things good. Good friends, good times, Good blessings.

We walked back to the bus and the Dublin crazies were out. Boys in track suits, girls rapping the lyrics to Ludacris. We headed back to the famous spire and headed home to relax and study some more.

Only The Irish

A random thing happened today on the street that I am pretty sure only happens in Ireland. Stacy and I were walking to the Royal Dublin Society where our exams are held (which is weird, and inefficient, but that's the Irish) and we were going to cross the street. Which is sometimes a gamble since we still haven't mastered which way to look and the Dublin drivers are a little ferocious. There was an older man crossing with us and he made a comment about the poor driving abilities of the Irish. We laughed and said yea. Just as he finished saying that you have to be careful about crossing the street because they will just run you over, the light turned green and we had to run out of the way of a city bus who had started to move in our direction. We bonded with this older man about the driving. We said goodbye to him as we turned the corner and he proceeded straight. But before he continued on his way, he turned and said to us "What did the Pope say to his favorite altar boy". A little taken a back by the random joke telling on the street, we asked "What?". His response "Giddy Up". Only in Ireland are you walking along, make a friend, and get told a dirty joke on the street at 3 pm in the afternoon.

Oh Dublin, how we will miss you and your friendly friendly people.

You're Gonna Miss This

No matter how much studying needs to be done, Thursday Nights are Wicked Wolf Nights. And every Thursday night brings us the type of euphoria and pure happiness that you can't get anywhere else. Somehow this small town bar, staff, and patrons have become so much apart of our four months. We are all dreading our last night at the Wicked Wolf and our metaphorical and literal last songs.

We left like we always do, on the 9:45 bus to Blackrock. Jen, Stacy, and I had indulged in some Domino's since all of us were hungry and too lazy to cook. Frau Curry (her German outlaw name) had since returned from her adventures in Manchester and London which culminated in a 11 hour adventure home from London by train (four of them), a ferry, and buses due to the relentless Iceland volcano and its never ending ash cloud which once again shut down the Dublin Airport. In the words of Sir Coleman, we should fear and respect its power. I'm about ready to buy a ticket for the Queen Mary or another Titanic like boat to get back to the USA. However, I'd like my Titanic like boat to actually be unsinkable. My solution to the ash cloud (and the recent oil spill) is a giant wet-vac. However, some people and their engineer boyfriends doubt the feasibility of this idea.

We arrived at the Wicked Wolf on time to see karaoke in full swing. We took our front row seats and on cue Brock sang "Human". I honestly prefer Brock's version to The Killers version, but that may just be my emotional attachment. There was an interesting crowd tonight, including two over served guys who just happened to sit next to us. It was instantly a good night when Brock called Stacy to the stage to hand her money to buy us a round of drinks. Stacy had bought Brock a drink last time we were at the WW, so he owed her a drink, but buying us all a round was super nice of him. When Stacy returned with our drinks, the red shirted man (Brian, I think?) had taken Stacy's seat. She kindly asked him to get up, but he refused. We did not like this man. Although him and his friend's rendition of "Nothing Else Matters" was quite entertaining. And when he got up to sing, Stacy reclaimed her seat. Then one of them sang "Total Eclipse of the Heart", which WE wanted to sing, and did a poor job to top it off. His only redeeming quality was that he unnecessarily threw the F bomb in the lyrics occasionally, and Claire about choken on her Wicked and had to remove herself from the table to pull it together.

At first we were worried that our usual friends were not in attendance, but soon Allistar was taking the stage for a rendition of "I Swear". He was definitely fired up again tonight and belted out "The Only One" as well. He greeted us with hugs and asked us what song we wanted him to sing. We saw Mark walk in and the barkeep emerge from the basement. All was right in the world. Then Mark took the stage to sing his usual hits. This time he brought props. Sunglasses to make himself a little more bad ass as he rapped his way through Gangsta's Paradise. He had to remove them about halfway through, too gangsta or did he just feel ridiculous. Or perhaps he couldn't read the lyrics, which by now he should know since he sings it EVERY WEEK. Brock automatically played Streets of Philadelphia next, and the way he acted, you'd think he'd never seen the song, or sang it, instead of doing it EVERY WEEK. He was so into it though. I thought he was going to cry or pass out from the sheer intensity of his singing. Normally my favorite part of Gangsta's Paradise (excluding the genius lyrics) is Brock's ghetto dance moves in the background. However, Brian (the stool stealer) was getting up in Brock's face in the back of the stage. It got so intense and Brian was just so relentless that Brock had to get Eugene to come up to the stage and tell the guy to leave. I wanted to give Eugene a round of applause for his escorting skills but the guys next to us seem to be friends with red shirted Brian so I refrained.

I think Brock was fed up and needing his favorite Americans' company because he called us to the stage to sing. Um... we hadn't submitted a song request form. We ask him what he wanted us to sing, and he said "Britney Spears". Typical. While we thought of a song, we let some woman sing a rather poor version of "Summertime" which was slow and not a crowd pleaser at all. Not that the crowd was that receptive. Because we belted out "Don't Stop Believing", the ultimate karaoke song and the crowd was just so-so. Laura & Claire even threw in some harmony.

Then Suzanne got up and sang "Nothing Compares to You". Later on, we will wonder who she is singing about. She was borderline awful so Brock had to help her out. Sam & Aoife followed up. Heaven & Heartbreaker. Appropriate dance songs. Sam is a serious badass in the way that she can rock combat boots at the Wicked Wolf. We are still trying to decide (lyrical interpretation and otherwise) the status of her relationship with Allistar. It seems as though there is some hostility.

Bridget, Amy, and Lauren showed up and we followed up our first song with Girls Just Want to Have Fun. A suggestion by the barkeep, Stefan. We've been going to the WW since January but just figured out the barkeeps name today. Better late than never. We had to get resourceful since he wouldn't tell us, so we asked Eugene. The song wasn't our greatest since the words were a little rusty but we danced and Brock laughed at us. He also let us in on a secret. Mark, the raspy voiced Canadian rapper has a thing for Suzanne, the German Cougar who has a thing for young Italians. In fact, they dueted to a somewhat Jamaican version of "I Got You Babe". It was totally weird, but we were laughing the whole time as they danced together with Brock in the back pushing them together and making ridiculous gestures.

Mark confessing his love to Suzanne while Allistar sings (note Allistar's hair)

Allistar took to the stage to sing "Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me". A dedication to his American friends. We swayed and slow danced and sang along. Follow up song, "End of the Road". The four of us swayed together, and sang to Brock and Allistar as they dueted to us. A shout out to us, and the song ended. Allistar announced his love for his American friends, gave us all hugs and kisses on the cheek.

To wrap up the evening Brock sang "All Night Long", one of his signature closing anthems. We sang with him, throwing in a "Party" "Fiesta" "Forever". Pure happiness.

We said goodbye to Stefan and Eugene, who told us to come early next week. We headed outside to talk to Brock and Allistar about next week's finale. Bittersweet for sure. We've definitely become regulars and WW staples. We thanked Brock for our drinks and headed to Supermac's with Bridget, Amy, and Lauren who were perhaps a little shocked by the fact that we know everyone by name and every one's life story. They got their food and left to go study, and the girls enjoyed their chicken strips and ketchup. Then taxi ride home. As always the driver, another Mark, was entertained by us. He however insulted us by saying we must not get out much if the Wicked Wolf is our favorite spot. It definitely has a special characteristic you can only see from the inside.

Home. Chocolate ice cream with Curry.

In the words of Brock Jones, Karaoke Master....Absolutely Fantastic Stuff.

Girls Nights In

Since returning from Italy, we've all turned in our adventure hats for study caps. The general consensus is that we have learned very little inside the classroom compared to what we've learned outside of the classroom. If we could take an exam on hostel crazies, public transportation, and getting from Point A to Point B in the most efficient and cheapest way, I think we'd all do well. Unfortunately, we are testing on 4 months of irrelevant facts. We have no idea what to expect from these finals or the grading procedures because the minimal grades we have received thus far have been awfully vague and strangely stringent.

So we've been good little children and spent time in the UCD library like little study minions. And when we need a little peace from academia we break bread like a family. We've had a bunch of nice chill dinner times. Claire's famous cheeseburgers and fried potatoes. Two nights in a row. Watching "Into The Wild" and deciding that when society gets too hard, we are going into the wild. Then a night at the Woolshed for footy, which didn't tape so we had to settle for cheesecake and Now & Then. And vegetable stirfry and some funky chicken wings that tasted like lemon soap.

Then last night after a day of laundry, jogging, and the library trekking to Tesco to load up on exam rations and being so loaded up with groceries, we decided to take a taxi home. Loving the cute little taxi driver who whistled the whole way home and was just so jolly. Then tag team Caesar salad making with one Jennifer Matchett, who shared her grandmother's famous chicken caesar salad recipe with me and gave me all the big jobs. She even made me eat something with anchovies-- getting wild.

From now until Tuesday at 8 pm, it'll be study face. Then Tuesday night-Sunday morning, it'll be living up our last days in the Emerald Isle.

I am going to miss my new found Canadian and Australian amigas. It's the simple nights that mean the most, just chilling, and cooking, and laughing.

Venice: I Could Float in a Gondola All Day (Thursday April 29 & Friday April 30)

None of us wanted to repeat the running to the train incident, so we alloted plenty of time to get to the train station, grab breakfast, find our platform, and board/find seats. It may have been a little unnecessary since our platform wasn't announced until about 10 minutes before our scheduled 9:30 departure and our seats were assigned, but nonetheless it limited the stress. The train was really nice, which it should be for the 42 euro we paid for a 2 hour ride. We all slept and listened to our ipods and enjoyed the ride. When we pulled into the Venice station, I loved it already. We had to cross this bridge that reminded me of the Tampa Bay Causeway with water surrounding us everywhere. We exited the train station and found ourselves facing the Grand Canal. Beautiful. Now to find our hostel.

The directions they gave us to go where a little vague... things like "walk straight to you get a square, continue straight and to the left, cross a bridge, turn right" etc. When we arrived at 2205, there were no signs indicating that this was indeed the "Venice Fish" but we rang the bell. No answer. Ah repeat of Paris. Ring again, a scrappy looking italian man popped his head out the window. Deja vu. He opened the door, and we stepped in another cellar looking room. Shady. He lead us upstairs and we exchanged the typical "oh geez, what did we get ourselves into" looks. He said our room wasn't ready yet, so we put our luggage in an open room, and got out of there as soon as possible. We promised to return to check in in a little while. We all looked at each other and laughed as we walked outside. The beady eyed italian man with the rat tail was not quite the host we were excited to have. Whatever, move on, enjoy the Venice day. We got pizza and sandwiches and sat by the canal and ate them. Good pizza... more crust than the other pizza I had had. After we finished our lunch, we wandered down the street, stopping to look at the shops and Venetian glass & Carnivale masks.

We crossed the Grand Canal and sought out how to get to the airport the next day. We had a 10 am flight so we wouldn't have much time for figuring things out in the morning. After 3 different stands and shops, and being scared by this nun talking to me in Italian, we finally found the tourist information office who explained what bus to take to get to Venice Treviso Airport the next morning. With that out of the way, we set out for our only other mission: a gondola ride. We were sure to ask the tourist office the standard rate for a gondola ride so we knew what to expect and not to get ripped off. 80 euro per boat. Worked out to be about 26 euro per person for a 40 minute ride, but as soon as we boarded our gondola, none of us regretted it.

Our gondola ride was 40 minutes of pure bliss. I could have stayed in that boat forever, just gently rowing along the canals peacefully. The gondoliers were really nice and the captain said he is a fifth generation gondolier. I told him that it was an awesome job, and he agreed. Just cruising on the canals in the sunshine everyday. If accounting doesn't work out, I'm moving to Venice, buying some stripes and becoming a gondola driver. It was such a serene ride. They picked us flowers.

I asked him if he could sing to us in Italian, but he said he had a terrible voice and wanted us to sing for him. I nominated Claire to sing for him, and she belted out "On My Own" while we paddled through the Venetian Canals. We weaved under the many bridges. There are no cars in Venice, just boats. Boat buses, boat taxis, boat mailmen, boat ambulances, boat police vehicles. My kind of town. The sun was warm, the wind was blowing enough to keep us comfortable, and I didn't want the ride to end. But like all good things, it came to an end.

We bid them farewell, and paid our money, and headed to find a cool snack. Gelato and slushes, perfect. We sat by the canal enjoying them. Then continued to wander and found another place to sit by the canal. Unfortunately, a garbage barge occupied the same space as us for a bit. Smelled like Berlin.

We wandered some more and then decided we should go back to the Venice Fish and check in so that we could continue to wander, find dinner, and enjoy the Venetian evening without worry. In hindsight, we should've probably just stayed away as long as possible. When we got back, we found the little Italian rat taking a nap on the couch in the common room. He didn't get up when we walked in, so we just stood there awkwardly. He finally arose and rambled on about people leaving our room, etc. We were confused but we followed him, picked up our bags, and followed him to our room. He opened a padlocked door (super super shady) and led us into our dusty closet of a room. He brought us our linens (which we had to pay for) and we looked at each other in digust. Stacy's bed had some kind of stain on the mattress, I was missing a pillow or blanket, but we quickly made our bed and left as soon as possible.

Before we left, Stacy asked the question on all of our minds....are you going to pad lock the door while we are in there? He looked us like we were crazy and accusing him of something, and said no. Relief.

Once we made it outside, we did the typical look to one another and just laugh. What else could we do. We continued down the street in search of the famous Rialto Bridge. Without a map we had to rely on signs and my sense of direction. But we eventually found it.

We enjoyed the scenery and then found a little cafe to have some water & coffee at. We decided to walk a little more before dinner. We sat along the canal on the docks enjoying the sun for a bit than headed to San Marco Square. Another beautiful square, another beautiful church.

So many canals, so many gondolas. I think the funniest moment was when we were walking behind a group of teenagers who were shouting to the people in the gondolas (who were asian). At first the girl said "bonjourno" then "bonjour" then "Konichiwa".

We found a little restaurant near the Rialto for dinner. I had pizza, and it was just okay. The dinner was not that good, and the breeze from the canal was kind of chilly. We were in no hurry to get back to our hostel. We wandered as slowly as we could, but Venice seems to shut down early, so we headed back to the Venice Fish. At one point, we considered going back to the hostel, getting our stuff and just sleeping in the airport. It would work if the airport was like O'Hare, but we figured there would be like 5 gates so not really conducive to spending the night. After trying to figure out a possible solution, we gave up, gave in, and returned to the Venice Fish.

We were happy to find our room unpadlocked, but not so happy when we got into our room and it was pitch black. We searched for light switch, none, we looked for a lamp, none, we looked for a ceiling light, none. We looked at each other, NO LIGHTS, what is this place, this padlocked cave we are paying 30 euro to sleep in? Claire was doing her nervous laugh, so she sought out the rat tail hostel worker to be like "ummm where is our light". I sat next to Curry, head in my hands, laughing. Just when you think things can't get anymore ridiculous, in comes the hostel worker, I glance up, only to be faced with a Michaelangelo's David apron.

I had always wondered WHO buys these ridiculous aprons, but now I know. I put my head back down in my hands to silence my laughter. He shows us our "lamp" and plugs it in for us. The lamp: a broomstick with two lightbulbs duct taped onto it. I was not at all tired so I went outside to the main common area full of people who seemed much happier to be staying at the Venice Fish. We sat on the balcony which was pretty nice, I mean the scenery was. We made friends with a Canadian named Matt who had been traveling for 7 months. He was pretty nice, but everyone else seemed a little odd. The hostel worker offered us sangria... and I decided to stick with the "never take candy from strangers" mantra on this one. I decided to give in and try to get to sleep. But we had to pay first. We had kind of hoped to sneak out without paying, since this place was just a joke. I literally slept in my jeans and sweater and used my jacket as a pillow. Claire got me a blanket but it was questionable so I just used it to cover my legs. It was not a good nights sleep all around. The bunk bed had no ladder to the top, and it was a little reeky deeky, and everytime I moved it rattled the pane of glass it was next to. Then in the middle of the night, this incredibly annoying dog wouldn't stop barking. Then people were yelling, music was bumping. I woke up at like 5 am, ready to get out. We made plans to leave the hostel at 6 am, even though we didn't have to be to our bus until 7:30.

None of us had slept well. Claire had woken to the annoying dog. Stacy had woken up to one of the girls in our hostel standing above her trying to shut the door. We were glad to get out. We bid a good riddance to the Venice Fish and sought out some breakfast and a little cafe by the Grand Canal. We had plenty of time to get to our bus, so sat at the cafe for a bit and we strolled along the Canal to the bus terminal.

Treviso Airport was about an hour away by bus, and we got there no problem. Claire had to check her bag due to all the things that she had acquired on the trip, and we made it through check in, security, and passport control without issue. Then just the wait for the boarding, which in these tiny little airports is always so crowded. We got on the plane and headed back to Dublin.

A rocky landing, through passport control, and on to the Aircoach. Traffic was worse than normal so it took us a bit to get home. Back to UCD for our last two weeks.

Florence: Under the Tuscan Sun (Wednesday April 28)

Stacy decided to sleep in, so Claire and I headed to the market for round two. We had a few things in mind that we wanted to purchase so after completing all our missions and Claire almost getting sucked into buying an Italian leather jacket, we headed towards San Croce Square, home to a chapel of the same name which is the resting place for legends Michaelangelo & Galileo. Claire decided she wanted to explore the inside of the church and take a closer look at the tombs of these priceless men, but I was feeling more like enjoying the sunshine & the day. So I sat on the steps, and relaxed.

Claire had a reservation to go into the Uffizi Gallery to look at art all afternoon, and I once again opted for the sunshine. I walked along the river and found a beach. Sounded like a good way to spend my afternoon. I walked down the banks and laid in the grass surrounded by daisies and little yellow flowers but the ants started crawling on me. Then I moved to the sand. Aborting any hopes of staying sandless, I flopped down and naturally got sand everywhere. I didn't care though, and I laid in the sand while the hot sun beamed down on me. I fell asleep for a bit until Claire texted me to come meet me. Join me at the beach was my reply.

We sat together on the beach for a bit, until I needed water. We found a fountain (all the water in Italy is drinkable out of the fountains) and continued walking around. We weaved through the backstreets to find the Galleria de Academia, stopping to get a pesto & mozzarella panini. Claire had another stop on her art day, to see Michaelangelo's David. I chose gelato & sunshine. Stacy was spending the day with her roommate so we met up with her to get the hostel key and we headed back so I could change out of my sandy clothes. My skin had the beachy feeling to it, and I laid in my towel on my bed and fell asleep. It was such a great nap, so good that Claire said she had to shake me a few times before I woke up.

We wanted to see the sunset from Piazza Michaelangelo so we headed that way. We made it to the top, out of breathe, and just in time to see the sun turn the sky into a rainbow of colors. Absolutely beautiful.

We watched the sun go down and then watched this man paint using only spray cans while blasting the PussyCat Dolls and All-Star by Smash Mouth.

Ofcourse the Piazza was also filled with the creeper Italian men.... typical. We got some pizza from a cafe and enjoyed it while we walked home. Claire had to use the computer to claim some ICS shifts for next semester so the nice hostel woman let us the computer. It was all good until this creeper came to the door and wanted us to let him in. No thank you. I did what most mature adults would do in the situation, I ducked under the desk, until he couldn't see us and just left.

We went to the train station to get our tickets for our train the next morning to Venice. Which turned out to be our saving grace, since according to the ticket machine we got the last 3 tickets. We headed home for a shower, to wash off the sand and beach feeling.

Felt like a day at the beach. Relaxing. Sunny. Wonderful.

Florence: Just Don't Happen Twice (Tuesday April 27)

We all slept really good. For me, it was a luxurious night of sleep because I had stolen the extra pillow off of extra bed. 2 pillows. Seriously luxury. I ditched the jeans and a tee for a cotton skirt and a tank top and flip flops. Change from traveler clothes to vacation clothes. We headed towards the San Lorenzo Market.

The San Lorenzo Market was huge, full of vendors selling leather, leather bags, leather wallets, leather belts, ties, scarfs, etc. etc. The vendors loved us for our American looks and Stacy's ging hair. We spent about an hour or more wandering the market, looking for the perfect gifts for those at home, and trying out our bartering skills. We wandering through the fish and meat market, which actually made me nauseous so I escaped outside as soon as I could. We found a cute cafe for lunch and enjoyed some bruschetta and ravioli.

We walked towards the river, crossed the Ponte Vecchio which was alive with jewelry stores, and headed up the hill to the Boboli Gardens. It was 10 euro to get into the gardens, but with our Irish Garda card proving we were EU citizens (temporarily at least) we only had to pay 5. We headed in and wandered with no ambitions, just taking it all in. We found a bench near a fountain surrounded by lemon trees and sat down enjoying the scenery and making jokes about which little kids that were touring the gardens best represented us.

It began to rain and we sought shelter in a little garden room until the rain subsided and we headed up the hill and more through the gardens. The hill was steep and a good work out, life's a climb, but the view is great. We could see the whole city and the mountains surrounding it. Perfect.

We sat on a bench for a bit and enjoyed the view. Then we continued to wander and found a cute little nook to enjoy.

It began to rain again so we found a stone gazebo carved in the hill and we sat inside listening to the rain. Written on the wall was a simple message "Happiness Only Real When Shared". Ironically after we returned from our Italian adventure, we watched the movie "Into the Wild" and the ending of the movie ends with that exact phrase.

We walked down the hill and out of the gardens, in search of our true Italian love: gelato. Flavor of the day: dark chocolate and mint. We walked along the river and sat by the bridge while Claire checked on the hours of this art museum that she wanted to go to. People were scattered along the river, sketching and painting with watercolors.

It began to sprinkle again so we sought shelter in a chocolate cafe. Claire and Stacy got the world's richest hot chocolate and we enjoyed the quaint cafe with views of the square.

We decided to head back to the hostel to change into jeans and grab jackets, then headed out for dinner. We wandered through the streets of Firenze and found a cute restaurant to have dinner at. We ordered a bottle of wine and some calzones for dinner. We sat there for a while, talking, laughing, drinking wine. Stacy and I had cheesecake, and when our waiter suggested Chello, we said why not. When in Italy, do as the Italians do.

We had planned on making it up to the Piazza Michaelangelo for sunset, but the sun had gone down somewhere in the middle of our dinner. Still we headed towards the hill to see Firenze by night.

We sat on the railing and looked out on the city of Florence sparkling like fireflies in the night. Stacy wandered away and returned with a bottle of wine and two dixie cups. Cue Kenny Chesney...these are the moments that don't happen twice. We enjoyed the view, laughed, talked, and headed back down the hill. Happy. Or as the Italians say: La Dolce Vita. The Sweet Life.

And to Bebop's...a bar Lydia had recommended for their Tuesday Night Beatles Cover Band. When we found it, we headed to the bathroom, where we literally ran into Stacy's roommate Maria from U of I. Small world. Maria is studying in Versailles and we just happened to be in the same place at the same time. Stacy decided to stay and hang out with Maria and her friends, but the bar was really hot so Claire and I decided to head home to our hostel. Stacy said she was going to stay with Maria at her hostel, so we were a little surprised when she knocked on our door at 3 am, didn't say a word and went to bed. But nothing was as great as when she locked herself out when she went to the bathroom, knocked, gave up, and decided to sleep on the ottoman outside our room until I opened the door and let her back in. Another great day and great night in Florence.