The Brazen Head & Chicken Wings Galore

Wednesday Night after class we decided to make the most of our time in Dublin and go out on the town. Some of the other study abroad students were planning on hitting Dicey's later on, so we went out earlier to explore the city and enjoy some pub music. The pub of choice: the Brazen Head, Dublin's oldest pub. Founded in 1198. It's further away from the city centre so it was a little bit of a walk from O'Connell Street but the night was clear (a little crisp) and the River Liffey was all lit up. We may have passed some questionable people, whom Laura swears were shooting up on drugs, but I highly doubt that. We found the Brazen Head, so precious.

It's a small little pub with an attached restaurant and hotel. The pub was crowded so we found a table outside in the beer garden which was so classic and full of character. I had a celebratory vodka & coke in honor of Nicole & Caitlin's 21st birthdays in America. It only seems right to celebrate the besties birthday, even from miles away.

We enjoyed the live music. I love when they cover American songs...this time it was them playing a very Irish sounding version of Time after Time by Cyndi Lauper. We sat there for a bit soaking it in, while Claire went on the typical Guinness glass hunt and Laura ripped her coaster to bits.

We decided to move on, and headed back towards Trinity & Nassau Street. We decided to take the last bus home, so we sat in Porterhouse Central for a while waiting for it. 90s Night at Porterhouse meant songs like Dreamlover & 2 Pac Changes. Wondrous. Then it was home :)

Thursday after class, we decided it was time for the spring break wolfpack to fully reunite. A typical wolfpack dinner: chicken wings. Jen had been raving about the chicken wings at Elephant & Castle and so we all met up there at 6 pm. Claire & Laura had been shopping in the city all day so they made us a reservation and were sitting in the corner nook when the rest of us arrived. We ordered our wings and enjoyed the American motif going on around us. We had spent the bus ride talking about all things American...like the fourth of july and grandma's potato salad. We also discussed my new aspirations in life...like watching Oprah, joining her book club, and crossing things off my bucket list like the guys in the Buried Life. And making yet another reunion plan. This time for Nashville. So my style. We ordered dessert and after some confusion with the waiter ended up getting a banana split, hot fudge sundae (very much lacking the hot fudge element), and probably the world's best cheesecake. We shared our desserts and then headed into the Dublin Streets.

Jen, Laura, & Claire headed back to UCD to get some things done/drop off their purchases, so I took the others to the Brazen Head, since they had never been. Another beautiful walk in the city was only dampened by the rudest Dubliner I have met thus far saying some choice comments to me for absolutely no reason. We found our way back to the Brazen Head and barstooled it for a while. Pubs always make me sleepy. They are just so relaxing and dimly lit. Ah. But soon it was time to head back to Blackrock for Thursday's greatest tradition. We got to O'Connell Street, just in time to see the bus pulling up, forcing us to sprint towards the bus and have some man stop in the center of our path with a football looking pose. The bus driver was kind enough to wait, redeeming my love for the Irish after the earlier incident, and we were not ashamed to huff and puff as we paid our fare. The anticipation for karaoke was pretty high, and as soon as we got close to Blackrock, Laura called to tell us that Brock Jones had called in sick and that karaoke was cancelled. We were pretty much at the Wicked Wolf at this point so we got off the bus and met up with Claire & Laura. We were so disappointed and think that maybe we should be put on the phone tree for when these things happen. So we found sanctuary at Supermac's, but it's not quite the same without karaoke. Feeling depressed and defeated, we hailed a "maxi taxi" back to campus. I ended up in Claire & Laura's apartment forcing Laura to watch Foster's commercials as she showed us the Australian fruit commercials. To end the night, we played our favorite commercials. Pure Michigan. It was the voice of Tim Allen in my head as I fell asleep that would prove to be inspiration for tomorrow's adventures.

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost-- Sometimes you have to take your own path

The sun has been shining in Dublin. The weather is crisp but enjoyable and I've tried to spend as much time outside as possible, soaking up my last month in the beautiful country of Ireland. After class on Monday, I decided to go for a walk into town. I need some basic necessities from the grocery and to stop at Boots, the local chemist, to get some foot scrub because my feet have been taking a beating and Sandy and friends aren't here to give me a pedicure.

It's about a 5 kilometer walk to the city centre, which is about 3 miles. I figured I could walk into the city, and then if necessary take the bus back. You get a totally different perspective of the surroundings when you are walking them, rather than when you are in the bus and I definitely enjoyed the walk. Flowers are blooming in Dublin, the streets are full of people, and the sky was blue. You can't ask for much more than that. I took my camera with me to capture some of the simple beauties of Dublintown in the Spring.

After a stop at Boots, I headed towards St. Stephen's Green. The park was full of people on their lunch break. Sitting in the grass and on the benches enjoying the springtime. St. Stephen's is beautiful in the winter so when everything started blooming, color is everywhere.

I found a patch of grass and laid in the sun listening to my ipod. So peaceful. People were everywhere, and it reminded me of the Quad on a nice day. After about 30 minutes of rest, I continued my walk. It was too nice of a day to stop walking, so I followed the usual bus route, knowing there was a TESCO on that street. I stopped in a bookstore to find something to read but the selection wasn't too good. I found the grocery, got some basics-granola, blueberries, yogurt, digestives-- a book, and a chicken pasta salad. I ate the pasta salad as I continued to walk.

I'm well known for taking my own way. I rather navigate than go on the same path twice. However, in Dublin's fair city, the streets are windy, and the buildings short so there isn't really any navigational landmarks. I could've taken the way home that I knew, but where's the fun in that. Needless to say, I got a little lost. Not really lost per say, but not quite sure of where I was going. So I just kept walking until I found something I recognized. I walked past the Rugby Stadium, the birthplace of W.B. Yates, and just kept walking. Eventually I smelled the salty sea air and found myself on the shore of the ocean. Alright, definitely in the WRONG direction than I intended, but I am not going to complain about the ocean. At least I knew where I was, so I headed in the direction of UCD. Why walk on the side walk when you can walk in the sand, so I ditched my gym shoes and walked in the sand. The tide was out real far so it looked more like a big sand bar than a ocean, but it was sandy and sea shells littered the ground. No complaints. There was a man using the sand bar as a driving range...I liked his style. I kept walking, the sand in my toes. Kids were playing in the sand, dogs were running around, the sky was blue.

I found a rock to lean against, and soaked up the sun for a while. At this point, my ipod had long died. Tragic really. I need to charge it before I decide to go on hour long walks. I enjoyed the sun, ate some digestive, then decided I should head home. I still had like a 3 mile walk from the beach. I headed home, passing these two old men, one in the wheelchair with an oxygen tube. His friend was pushing him along the beach, making conversation about this and that. True friendship right there.

By the time I made it back to campus, I had been gone for four and a half hours and probably walked close to 10 miles. Wondrous for sure. I had some dinner then hung out with Claire and Laura, discussing our respective weekends. I went back to my apartment for a bit to get some work done. My roommates had friends over, and they were having a guitar sing a long in our kitchen. Brilliant. At about 7 or 8, there was a knock on my door. I thought perhaps it was my roommates inviting me to the singalong. Nope. It was Claire and Laura, inquiring if I wanted to go on an exploration for ice cream with them. Undoubtably yes. We walked up to the SPAR on Foster's Ave and got ourselves a Venetta Ice Cream cake, plastic silverware, and a lotto ticket (because Claire was feeling lucky). We found a bench along Roebuck Road, and sat and ate our ice cream cake with our plastic utensils as cars and joggers passed us by. Dusk had that magical quality, and it reminded us of summer, even though our feet were freezing in our flip flops.

I came back to my apartment to the singalong still going on. I laid in bed and finished up my work listening to the guitar music. Good day, good night.

Tuesday had the same wonderful weather. Unfortunately, I had a pile of laundry waiting for me after class that desperately needed my attention. So I put on my gym shoes, packed my suitcase, and ventured down to the Laundrette. I planned on going for a walk while my clothes washed and then a few laps around the track while my clothes dried. Seemed like effective use of my time. I paid my 3 euro for one load and took a stroll around campus. I set my timer on my Ipod and came back to the Laundrette after its prescribed 38 minutes. But my laundry wasn't done. The washer seemed to be stuck at 8 minutes. I watched for a few minutes and the timer did not change. I tried to open the door, it was locked. I began to play over in my head the scenario in which my clothes were locked in this broken washer. The majority of my clothes were in there. I tried to open, pry it, no luck. Finally the timer hit 7 minutes. Alright, it's just slow moving. So I went and sat in the grass outside for a bit. After 10 minutes, I came back, still 4 minutes to go. Longest minutes ever. Finally it hit 0 and I opened the door. My clothes were completely soaked. Drenched. This was problematic. So I took out the clothes that were the most wet and individually took them outside to ring them out before putting them in the dryer. Finally after about 20 minutes of this, I set the dryer and went to do some laps around the track. After 45 minutes I came back to find my clothes still wet. I put it on for another 45 minutes (and another 1.50 euro) and went back up to my room to grab my book and sit in the grass and read. When I went to retrieve my clothes, they were still damp, no surprise. Air drying would have to do. I came back to take a shower, have some dinner, and go to my 6 o'clock class. On the way to class, I stopped at the front desk for my mail. I had gotten a sweet letter from Gram and a package from the Dsigs. Good day for sure :)

After class, I ran into Jen & Claire out for a walk. Join them, ofcourse. The campus was still lively with people playing soccer, and hurling, and frisbee. We did a lap around the grass and then headed up to Jen's to chat it up while she made dinner. We considered going out on the town but we all had things to catch up on. Relaxed for a while, caught up on the rest of the blog, and went to bed.

Today I had class, and then it was time to get down to business (my theme song according to my companions). I went to town on finding a summer internship. No more of this. According to our speaker last night, Bryan Cody--coach of Leinster Hurling-- confidence leads to success. I applied for a number of internships, anything I could find. From the Shedd Aquarium to NBC to Tiffany & Co to Zurich Insurance. There's no reason I can't get a sweet job that I enjoy...and sometimes you have to blaze your own trail. A little inspiration from my little Canadian friend.

We will see what happens, but after 3 hours of submitting resumes at least I'm not going down without a fight.

Northern Ireland. The Mysterious Disappearance of Whiskey Willy

I slept pretty well and woke up on my own at 7:30 ready for another day in Northern Ireland. Hostel sleeping can be sometimes questionable, since its basically like a dorm full of people you don't know with paper thin walls. Stevie had claimed to hear screaming in the middle of the night but Claire and I both must have slept through it because we had no idea what she was talking about.We had booked a tour of the main Northern Ireland sites that was planned to depart at 8:30 so we head down to the front desk that was next door about 7:50 to get some breakfast and to pay for our rooms. When we went to ring the bell, no one answered. We kept ringing the bell, Claire climbed up on the window ledge to peak in the window, we called William's cell phone...nothing. At this point, a group of woman joined us outside trying to get in. Now normally, it wouldn't be a big deal, we could shove the key through the mail slot and be on our way. But William had taken Claire's license as a deposit for the key and it was locked in the safe. Out of desperation, I kept ringing the bell (it had worked at the Nam de Mun) and then decided to start calling out through the mail slot. Still nothing. At this point, we had to go to our tour so we left a message on William's mobile that we would be back later to collect Claire's ID and pay. We head to Paddy's Palace Hostel (only about a 10 minute walk), only to find out that the tour actually started at 9:30 and that "it was wrong online". No big deal, such an Irish mentality. However, it worked out well for us, because it gave us an opportunity to head back to our hostel to get Claire's ID because William would have obviously opened the door by now. Breakfast was supposed to start at 8 and it was 8:30 at this point. When we arrive back in front of hostel, our three lady friends were not outside so we figured all was well and William had opened the door. We rang the bell and the women answered, told us that William was still MIA and that some other guests had let them in. We were beginning to get worried at this point. William was very on the ball and this seemed very out of character. But then again, underneath the desk were two empty bottles of whiskey and William's sandals. When we had left William the night before, one of those bottles of whiskey was full. Perhaps this explained his seeming disappearance. Passed out somewhere with one heck of a whiskey hangover.

All that was left of William--- two empty bottles of whiskey and his shoes

More guests came down and we told them that William was MIA. Some went to wander around the hostel to see if they could find him. Claire and I did what most people do when they are stuck in a hostel full of strangers. We made breakfast. Now I am fairly certain if we had time, Claire would have made the whole hostel breakfast. But given our time constraints, we rummaged through the cabinets and fridge and made one heck of a good batch of scrambled eggs with cheese and ham. And for the masses, Claire made toast. I was scrambling eggs, Claire was delivering toast, life was ridiculous.

We chatted with some Australians (everywhere we go we meet Australians) and even discussed the footie with them. Yep, hip to Aussie Rules Football, so worldly. Making friends wherever we go. It was almost time to go to our tour and William was still MIA. Another group of girls came down to the desk, and had to leave to go home and had flights (or buses?) to catch, but William had locked their passports in the safe. Problematic. Out of desperation, these women called information and local police authorities. I'm not sure what they were hoping to attain from this, other than reporting the fact that their passports were not in their possession. From the part of the conversation I heard, the police weren't very helpful. We didn't get to see how it played out because once again we had a tour to catch.

We headed back to Paddy's Palace to board our Paddywagon Tour. (More or less cheesy than a Duck tour?!?). We had to wait for another bus to come, and soon I was flagging people down to board the bus. They offered me a job on the spot. Driving a tour bus around Ireland (with my joke telling and camper driving skills) sounded pretty perfect. Summer plans, check. We boarded our little bus and got ready to hit the dusty trail. An hour to the Carrick-a-rede Rope Bridge. I napped a little, and listened to Troy, our tour guide, ramble about the Irish countryside. We passed Liam Niesen's Irish home, which Troy was sure to point out.

We arrived at the Carrick-a-rede Bridge. Carrick means rock in Gaelic and therefore is in the name of many places around Ireland due to the rocky/cliffy nature around the island. The rope bridge was on a must see list, and I am fairly certain Lindsay would've disowned me if I didn't make it up to the Bridge and to Giant's Causeway (spot 2 on the tour). Basically, the rope bridge was built so fisherman could put nets out on this small island to catch Salmon. Why it's become a tourist spot, not sure. Other than the views are breathtaking and we all like to feel like we are walking on the wildside and laughing in the face of danger. Especially when what seems to be dangerous, is not really. The bridge is about 30 meters (100 feet) above the ground. Underneath it is water, but not deep water so you'd probably break something bad if you fell. We made jokes with some fellow tourists in line about whether or not to point your toes if you found yourself heading down. Like I said, I'm not sure why its become a tourist attraction but whoever runs it (the National Trust) is making a killing. It cost us 4.90 GBP to cross the bridge and that was us not giving the donation that they suggest. You're only here once right, so I forked over my pounds and we hiked down to the bridge. These are the types of views that are majestic and that cameras can't capture. The sky was blue, the sun was warm, the air was fresh, and life was good.

We crossed the bridge and it wasn't scary at all. I even looked down, which Troy advised us not to do.

The view down.

We made it to the other side and then decided to lounge in the grass and enjoy the sunshine. It was a perfect day. I was even warm. I looked for puffins (Lindsay's new favorite bird) but spotted none. We decided to take advantage of the sunshine and have a little photoshoot. Mostly us goofing off. Nothing new.

Time was short and we had to be back to the Paddywagon at 12:30, so we hustled across the bridge, and up the hills and towards the bus. Stopping to admire the views and take it all in. We power walked up the hill, and even in my t-shirt I was breaking a sweat. Warmness, haven't felt this in a while. We made it to the bus, to find it almost full, but there were a few stragglers who came after us. I was glad we not the last ones because Troy was not pleased by their tardiness. An Irishmen who expects promptness, that's a new one.

We headed to the Giant's Causeway. We placed our lunch orders in the Causeway Hotel and headed down the road to see this natural wonder. As my buddy Albert had told me the night before, the rock formations had been caused by a volcanic eruption under the seas thousands of years ago. The rocks had cooled in the hexagonal shape. Natural wonder for sure. But ofcourse, there is an Irish Myth used to explain the Giant's Causeway. The Irish love their myths and Giants. This is how the story goes (thanks to Claire, because I didn't feel like typing it all out). The story centers around a Giant named Finn McCool. Legend goes that Finn heard that there was a beautiful female giant in Scotland. Finn didn't have anyone to love in Ireland (and no one to make "jiggy jiggy" with) and therefore built a path between Ireland and Scotland to meet his lady love. He went over to Scotland and fell in love with Eda and she returned with him to Ireland to live.

Eda was promised to another giant in Scotland who was out fighting the English at the time. When he returned to his town and found that Eda wasn't there he got angry and asked Finn for a duel for Eda's heart. He was a very skilled fighter and Finn would stand no chance against him. Finn told Eda what was going on and she said "Lovey, don't worry I have a plan. First, when he arrives I will tell him that you are out on a run around Ireland and you will be back in ten minutes. That way he will think you are a fit giant. Then I will serve him scones that are really rocks and they will break his teeth. While I am doing this you sneak into the bedroom and put a blanket over yourself and make a noise. I will tell him that this is our baby and then he will think you are a magical giant and will not want to fight you."

The day came for the duel and they began the plan. When the Scottish giant arrived Eda told him that Finn was dong a lap around Ireland and would be back in ten minutes. The Scottish giant thought that Finn must be a very fit giant if he could make it around the island in ten minutes. Next Eda served him the rock-scones and he broke his teeth. Eda said that the scones were prepared just the way "her Finny" liked. Next they heard a noise from the bedroom and Eda said that way their baby. The other giant asked if he could have a look and Eda said sure, but just from the hall because the baby was sleeping. The other giant took one look at the "baby" and ran because if the baby was this big imagine how big Finn was going to be. He ran down Finn's causeway breaking it up as he went and Finn and Eda lived happily ever after. Special right?

The Causeway is surrounded by mountains, and the rock formations stretch into a beautiful blue ocean. While the rocks are less colorful then the Irish countryside, the beauty of it was undeniable. The rocks themselves looked like building blocks and people were perched upon them enjoying the day. I undoubtably climbed up on the rocks and explored, careful not to fall and break anything.

We explored some more, enjoying the waves and the sunshine, taking pictures of tide pools for Lindsay, loving the natural wonders. Claire sat on a rock and then somehow fell into a pool, so her butt was wet. Glad it wasn't me and my natural tendency to stick my feet in a pool. We didn't have much time, because we had to be back for lunch, so we headed back up the hill. The hill was steep, and my legs were burning, and it became clear why people would pay 1 pound to take the bus up the hill.

Hot and sweaty, we found a seat in the restaurant and waited for our food to come out. When our food finally arrived, we were missing our chips and any silverware. The service not so good at the restaurant. Typical for Europe though. I ate my cheeseburger and some of my chips when they finally arrived. We had to eat fast because we were supposed to leave at 2:30, so we ate quickly, paid for our meals and headed to congregate around the Paddywagon. We got back on the road and headed for a pit stop on the side of the road to take pictures of the Dunluce Castle driving through the town of Bushmills, home of Bushmills Whiskey. About this time, William, the missing hostel worker, called Stevie and told her that he was sorry about the morning, that we could pick up our ID when we got back from the tour and because of the inconvenience our stay would be free. Win. That was all we got from William so we were still curious about just where he was all morning.

The bus headed towards Derry, another prominent town in Northern Ireland. Full of history. The town is known by either Londonderry or Derry. Londonderry by the Protestants in honor of the support of the town by the British. Derry by the Catholics who reject the British influence. Or by the name of Stroke City by those who want to remain neutral. Obviously there is some conflict and hostility surrounding this. The wounds are still fresh and you sometimes have to watch what you say so you don't say the wrong thing to the wrong person. There has still been some violence in the North, even after the Good Friday Agreement. The Good Friday Agreement states that Northern Ireland will remain part of the Commonwealth until majority decides it would rather be apart of the Republic of Ireland. Currently 55% of the country wants to stay as a part of the Commonwealth and thus it is so. However, the Real IRA, a spin off group, still believes that terror is the means to the end. The city of (London)Derry is a walled city, dating back hundreds of years. Troy told us about a walking tour we could do of the city, and must have told us 304 times about what a great value and tour this was, but we decided we had had enough of the rushing around and wanted to go at our own pace. Plus I think we were all sick of the depressing history. Instead we wandered around Derry, and found a woman selling jewelry on the street. We bought some cute rings, and I ended up getting 2 for 5 pounds. We went into a little mall to find a bathroom and ended up at a shoe store. Splurged on some black heels. I'm blaming it on Stevie, the shopping queen. After shopping success, we got smoothies and walked around the city and back onto the bus.

Aboard the Paddywagon, we headed back to Belfast. Troy continued his jokes and his eclectic music selection. One after my own heart. Everything from Faith Hill, to Lady Gaga, to Garth Brooks to Beyonce. I fell asleep and soon we were back in Belfast. We got dropped off at Paddy's Palace at about 7 pm and we headed back towards the Lagan Backpackers to get Claire's ID. Stevie headed to grab some food, divide and conquer since we had less than an hour before we had to be at the bus station and on our way back to Dublin on the 8 pm bus. We got to the hostel and William opened the door. I'm pretty sure he was wearing the same outfit as the night before. Claire gave him the keys and then excused herself to use the bathroom. We were so curious about where William had been, but he didn't seem very chatty, and I could tell he had had a rough morning. He broke the silence and apologized about breakfast. I replied smiling, telling him not to worry and that we had made breakfast for ourselves and made toast for the crowd. He laughed. I asked if everything was okay, and he said yes. The answer to where he had been last night/this morning: JAIL. Yep, Jail. Now I have a pretty good sense of people, and William seemed like a pretty trustworthy guy. A bit of an alcoholic, maybe. I inquired to what had happened and he told me the story. The girl from the night before had returned again with her ugly male friend, the one that William had already kicked out. William escorted them out of the hostel, a little less patient and understanding than the first time. (At this point, there's no telling how much whiskey he had consumed). The girl was hysterical and screaming outside (the mysterious screams Stevie had heard) and the neighbors called the police. The police arrived and William told them the story and they understood. However, after running the standard protocol cross check on his name, the police came back to arrest him for an unpaid traffic violation from 2 years ago. William claimed that he had paid it over a year ago, but nevertheless he spent the night in jail for it. He plans out suing the state since he lost 1000 pounds due to his absence that morning. Mystery solved. Whiskey Willy was in jail. How perfect of an excuse is that. We thanked him for our stay, and headed on our way, in a bit of a rush to make our bus.

We met up with Stevie and headed to the Europa Bus Station. The men at the desk told us the bus would be 12.50, but they didn't tell us it would be 12.50 euro so Stevie took out more pounds. Stupid different currencies. We got on the bus and made friends with a guy named John Franklin who sat in front of us. We must have a sign on us that says "we're friendly". We chatted as the sun went down over the mountains. Beautiful.

Slept some more on the bus and then we were back in Dublin. Found a 10 bus and headed back to campus. Did some homework and then fell asleep, laughing at the ridiculous weekend we had had in Northern Ireland.

Belfast. How Many Bacardis Have You Had Victor?

Saturday marked another UCD study abroad trip. This time to Belfast, Northern Ireland. It's only about a 2 1/2 hour bus ride, and we departed UCD at about 8:40 with Dorothy and our bus driver Ian. Stevie, Claire, and I were excited to see this part of the island, and we always take advantage of Dorothy's free trips to do so. We made arrangements to stay the night in Belfast after confirming with Dorothy that we could just stay up in Belfast when the rest of the students went back to campus. The best part about Dorothy's trips is that she always makes sure we are fed properly. This meant that we stopped at the Carrickdale Hotel after about 1 1/2 hour of travel for a full Irish breakfast. We sat with friends from Bentley and loaded up on eggs and ham. We debated the ins and outs of black and white pudding and decided against it.

It was about an hour further to Belfast, and we crossed the border soon after breakfast. Northern Ireland is it's own country... it has its own money (British Sterling Pounds since its still a Commonwealth Nation). However, there is little to no border control and it was basically like crossing from Illinois to Indiana. Another similarity is that people come to N. Ireland to buy their illegal fireworks and then come back. Made me miss America.

Our first stop on our tour was the Northern Ireland Parliament Buildings known as the Stormont Estates. Its an imposing building on the top of a hill with a mile long entry road. We got a tour of the building and learned about the political structure of Northern Ireland. This was also a British command post during WWII and so they painted the whole building black using cow manure & tar so that it wouldn't be a big white target. It was interesting but the sunny skies were beckoning me outside. We had soup and sandwiches for lunch at Stormont and then headed out into the world.

As we left the grounds, we picked up a firey woman named Wendy Hood who would be our tour guide for the city. This woman was passionate about Belfast and had a don't mess with me attitude. When she used the phrase "Okay Cokay" I knew I'd like her. She also later used the phrase "If they don't do what we want, we threaten to blow them up and then they do it".

Our first stop was the Belfast shipyards. For years, Belfast had been the world's leader in ship building. The most famous of these ships was the one and only unsinkable ship, the Titanic. For years, Belfast didn't place much emphasis on this fact. They didn't get caught up in the hype, until Americans started making a huge deal out of the Titanic. Oh Leo. Then Belfast wanted some positive publicity and a piece of the tourist action. Now, Birthplace of the Titanic is one of Belfast's major points. Claire wanted to remind them that the boat sunk after all, but Wendy alluded to the fact that people understood this. Supposedly the people of Belfast came up with T-Shirts with clever slogans like "It Sailed, It Sunk, Get Over It" or "It took Irishmen to build it, but Englishmen to sink it" and "It was alright when it left here". Ah the Irish. All of the boats of the White Star Line were built in Belfast and one remaining ship, the Normanic, has made a return to the harbor. The Normanic was used to transport people from land to the Titanic and is still floating today. Wendy is part of a team that is trying to raise money to restore it since its interior is similar to that of the Titanic. We saw the dry dock where the Titanic was built, which took something like 500 men 6 months to hand dig out. Impressive.

When a bus of chinese tourists arrived, it was our cue to move on. We discussed how well known the Titanic is, and how it is a universal word around the world. That and Coca-Cola. What else does the Titanic & Coca-Cola have in common? They both go down good with ice.

We then took a tour of the downtown area of Belfast, mostly around the city hall area. We stopped in front of city hall where Wendy pointed out "all the goths here". She instructed the bus driver to pull over in front of City Hall.

He told her that it was a no parking zone, and we could see the police just a few feet away. She assured him it was no problem. She also assured the police that it was no big deal when they came to tell us to move. She was ah don't worry, we'll move in a minute. Thank you Wendy. Belfast police by the way are legit. They have like bulletproof vests on and armored cars. While Belfast is peaceful now, the troubles and turmoil were only a few years ago.

The police yelling at Wendy

We toured around the city and by Queen's University. We then went to once turmoil area of Belfast. And now for your short history of Belfast, Northern Ireland, and the IRA. For years, Ireland as a whole was occupied by English settlers. The crown took over Ireland for strategic and monetary reasons, and once occupied they took power and never let go. After years of oppression and mistreatment by the British, the native Irish wanted a Republic for the people and of the people. The original Irish settlers were Catholic--converted by St. Patrick back in the 1400s or so. However, the British settlers were Protestant and therefore a clash of both political and religious views. The British settled heavily in the North, in a town named Derry. In the early 1900s, the people of Ireland were more desperately seeking Home Rule of their country. After the Easter Rising of 1916, the Irish Republican Army (IRA) gained momentum after several leaders of the Easter Rising were executed at the Kilmanhiam Gaol. However, the population in the North and a group of Unionists believed that a continued relationship with Britain was in the best interest of the people of the county of Ulster. These Ulster Unionists claimed they would never end their loyalty to the crown and therefore were against home rule. Thus when the Republic of Ireland was formed, these 6 counties stayed loyal to the crown and formed the country of Northern Ireland, a British commonwealth nation. However, not everyone was happy about this. Many believed that Ireland should be one. These people made up the IRA. However noble their cause or ideals were, their tactics were seen as terrorist like. For 30 years, the city of Belfast was divided, protestant vs. catholic, unionist vs. nationalist. This conflict plagued the city, and left the people in fear. Car bombs were common. A wall was erected to separate the different parts of the city. People were imprisoned. Hunger strikers protested and 10 died due to starvation. While peace has been in Belfast since 1998, the scars are still fresh and murals line the streets depicting the troubles. We drove by all these things including a cemetery where Wendy told us that the hatred was so high that a wall was created beneath the ground so that Protestant and Catholics were not buried next to each other. It was amazing to see how a place could have so much hate. We even passed a school that had bullet holes in it. Shooting at children, really? While I understand the IRA's mission, I do not understand their means. How would war and violence and terror unite a country.

That marked the end of our tour, and the three of us and Wendy got off the bus at the City Hall building. Wendy gave us directions to our hostel and we headed that way. After about 10-15 minute walk, we found the Lagan Backpackers Hostel. We rang the bell and met hostel owner/runner William. William quickly won me over when he told us to go get settled and then come back so he could give us the information. He told us not to worry about paying until tomorrow, which was good because none of us had taken out pounds from the ATM. We found our room, 10, and then went back downstairs where William gave us a full out explanation of the city, where to go, where not to go, where to eat, coupons for the place to eat. He gave us his cell phone number in case we got lost and sent us on our way. What a gem. The city of Belfast is not very big so we had no problems navigating it, especially with Williams map full of notes. We tried to go up in the lookout tower at the Victoria Mall but it closed at 6 and it was already 6:30. Everything closes so early in Europe...or at least in Ireland. Hungry, we decided to head to the restaurant William suggested, Laverty's.

Saturdays in Ireland usually means pubs are full of people watching sports: rugby, soccer, Gaelic football, hurling, you name it, there's probably a game on. Therefore, Laverty's was booming and it was difficult to find a table. We asked a waiter for a suggestion and he pointed us in the direction of a long table with a large booth that was halfway occupied by three older men. We took our seats at the other end nonchalantly. Within 3 minutes of sitting down, these men began a conversation with us. The first question: Where you from? Obvious our accents aren't Irish, especially Northern Irish who have even thicker brogues. When we told them Chicago, they burst into song..."Chicago...Chicago". Should have been an indicator of the evening ahead of us. Claire was situated right next to the eldest looking man, who looked somewhat like a drunken Santa Clause. We soon found out his name to be Victor. Victor offered us three Diet Cokes and we took them sort of skeptically. He then reassured us, saying that he got them free with his Bacardis. And he just likes the Bacardi. (Turns out it is cheaper to buy bacardi & coke then just plain bacardi... Victor knows the system) Alright. Claire whispered "Do you think they're roofied?" and I laughed. Victor didn't look like a premeditating, roofying kind of guy. However, he did start off his conversation with Claire by saying "I'm a born again virgin". Well thanks for that information Victor.

Trooper in Blue. Claire & the man, the myth, the legend:Victor

It was loud in this bar, and it was difficult to hear/understand them partially because of their accents and partially because I think the Bacardi was impeding their speech. Most of the time, I smiled and nodded like I had any clue of what they were saying. I did not. We ordered our food from a very handsome looking waiter (he left earlier or I was going to try to bring him home for myself/Lindsay). A man looking lost found his way near our table, so I offered him a seat hoping that he would deter some of the attention off of us from the Three Musketeers.

Stevie & Spaussie

Turns out he is a Spanish Australian who was born in the Canary Island, grew up in Wollongong, Australia, and in the past year has lived in both Berlin and Liverpool. He is currently teaching English or Spanish in Liverpool. Spanish I think. I gave him my best freshmen year spanish phrases. I had a really interesting conversation with this Spaussie (we never caught his name.) We talked about how the United States educational system has a very ethnocentric style of teaching. Basically we learn about the USA and that's it. Whereas in other countries, you learn about everywhere. He actually made an interesting analogy about how Americans focus on the nuts and bolts and everyone else focuses on the whole car. Specialization is definitely our style of learning, I'm guessing it dates back to Adam Smith and the industrial revolution. Specialization and Standardization. I think at this point Albert and Trooper (Victor's friends) were getting mad that I had diverted my attention from them and began to shout my name from across the table. BRITTANY ! BRITTANY! They ofcourse did the standard Britney Spears reference. Everytime in Ireland, everytime. Trooper took it one step further and told me not to shave my head. On the ball that Trooper, on the ball. I went back to my conversation with the Spassie, and then I heard it. The most magical sound of the evening. From across the table, Tropper and Albert had their hands in the ear, waving them side to side, singing "AND THE BRITNEY SONG WAS ON....SO I PUT MY HANDS UP, THEY'RE PLAYING MY SONG, AND THE BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY". In the middle of this Belfast pub, these Irish men were acappellaly singing Miley Cyrus and doing the hand motions. What else could I do but join in. This must have happened at least 10 times throughout the evening and every time I laughed in disbelief. Since Albert & Trooper were obviously trying to get my attention, I tried to shift my conversation to them. But it was so hard to hear/understand them. I confessed to the Spaussie that I was just smiling and nodding. I did however catch the part where Albert was talking about how that morning he had watched Friends, the one were Ross was selling the cookies. He did a good overview of the episode, but I still didn't understand why he was randomly talking about it. But who really needs a reason to reference Friends.

At this point, we had eaten our delish meals. I had a chicken quesadilla. When we asked for more ketchup, the waiter (a new one, not the handsome one) told us he'd bring us the American one. He brought back the holder with nothing but Heinz ketchup packets stuffed in. Wonderful. When we went to pay, we found out that our waiter had spent 3 years in Chicago off and on. He has family all around the US and spent most of his time in Park Ridge area working at The Abbey. Making friends wherever we go. Another highlight was that after the Rugby game, Harry Potter was on for a brief moment. Until the bartender realized. We told him that we liked the HP and he just laughed.

Victor kept passing us diet cokes. The table was filled with them. Victor was busy mixing his drinks. Which was more like mixing one glass of Bacardi with another, and adding a drop of coke for coloring. At this point, Claire turns to Victor and goes "How Many Bacardis Have You Had Victor?". Claire was busy getting his life story, which was hard since we could only understand about 40% of what he was saying. Turns out he comes to Laverty's every Friday (and occasionally on Saturdays for the matches) and has done so in the last 9 years since his love of 27 years died. We also found out that he was 64. While Claire got Victor's life story, I was still talking to the Spaussie. Albert thought I was bored and so he tried to come "save me". I was actually listening to the myth of the Giant's Causeway but Albert was having none of that. So he put his arm around me and tried to tell me about how it was caused by volcanoes. Thanks Albert.

The girls & Victor

Around this time, Spaussie's friend showed up. Another Spaniard from Madrid, Claire told me his name was Manuel, it was actually Claudio. Too many diet cokes for Claire.

Us & Claudio

She was continuing to listen to Victor's life story, and one of the other guys in the bar walked by and yelled across the room "Victor is that your new wife?". Ah a little bit of an age difference. Claire laughed and said no, we're just BFF. She must have made some comment about sending Victor a Christmas Card because a moment later he was digging in his wallet to give Claire his business card. A legit business card, laminated and everything, with a picture of Victor on it, in what looked to be this very pub, smoking a cigar.

Claire commented about the cigar. Victor then reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small stogy for Claire. Yep, Claire Fisher, Miss Musical Theater, Classic Movies, Classy lady is a fan of cigars. Trooper leaned over and tried to light it, falling over Victor, while Spassie was yelling "you can't smoke that in here". True statement, Ireland is smokefree. (Reason #2084 I love Ireland). So Claire and Victor go outside to smoke their cigars, and I accompany them to document the event and because we never let a soldier wander alone. What a moment, standing in the beer garden in Northern Ireland while Claire smoked a cigar with a 64 year old Northern Irish man. Priceless.

We went back in to find Stevie and Albert in a deep conversation about tattoos. Albert had tattoos on his arm but he was trying to convince Stevie NOT to get one. He wrote "THIS IS IT" on her receipt and he told her that if she needed a reminder of this, this is it, write it on a receipt and not on yourself. Then he told her that if she got one, to get it somewhere where you could hide it. Life lessons we were learning here.

The Real Madrid vs. Barcelona game came on and therefore we lost Spaussie & Claudio to the game. Spassie was for Barcelona and Claudio for Real Madrid so there was a lot of trash talking back and forth and lots of yelling and cursing in Spanish. Hanging out at an Irish pub with soccer hooligans, check that one of the list. We were just enjoying the music, a good selection of American hits like "You're so Vain" and "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay" and "Hotel California". But when RESPECT came on, the three of us busted it out. Everyone in our general vicinity turned to look at us, America representing. I am also pretty sure the Spaussie got video of it. Ridiculousness for sure. Soon, Victor and Trooper and Albert bid us farewell and went to get Chinese. But we sang Miley one last time before they left.

We walked a little more soccer and then decided it was time to leave. Laverty's had been good to us. We headed in the direction of the Crown, Belfast's oldest pub to just check it out since everything inside is original and dating back at least 100 years. The Crown was busy and we didn't feel like sitting anymore so we headed towards our hostel. The streets were lively and we saw lots of bachelorette parties and one guy who claimed to be going swimming with a ginger haired dolphin. Yea, we weren't sure either.

We got back to the hostel and changed into our PJs. Two girls were in our room asleep so we went downstairs to chat for a while, still alive with energy from all the laughing. We wanted the WIFI code so we sent Claire next door to the main reception area to get it. She comes back and tells us that William wants us to come hang out with some of the other hostel stayers and have some whiskey. Feeling very adventurous, we decide why not and head over. William answers the door in his tshirt, shorts, socks and sandals and grabs us some mugs as we join the crowd. There were 2 girls from Dublin, 2 guys from South Africa, a trainee and William all sitting around drinking Powers Whiskey mixed with a little bit of Coke to "make it drinkable". We sat around and drank our whiskey out of our coffee mugs as William told jokes that began with "An Irish guy walks into a pub..." which were kind of hard to understand due once again to the mixture of heavily accents and alcohol effects. I remember thinking what a life this is. How ridiculous. Sipping whiskey in our hostel lobby with our South African owner in Belfast. The rest of the crowd heads out after a bit, and we sit and talk about random things with William. We discussed my career path and how he found accountants to be heartless and soulless. Well thank you. He did say that accounting is a great background for everything. One point for me. We sat there for a while, he topped up our whiskey, and made random conversation. At one point, William excused himself to yell at a girl staying at the hostel for bringing a guy back with her. The rules are pretty simple. I'm pretty sure he had 2. No smoking, no guests. He escorted the guy out and told us that he doesn't care what we do on our free time but it's a security issue to have random people in the hostel. I can understand and appreciate that. He also commented that the guy was just plain ugly. Like real ugly. William sent his trainee via taxi to the local liquor store to get another bottle of whiskey. We were exhausted however so we headed to bed, leaving William with his bottle of whiskey.

Most random evening ever. I think so.