Ireland 2009 Day 6

St. Patrick's Day!


The morning of St. Patrick's Day started out somewhat early, but not too early. We needed to take the car back to the airport, but we couldn't check into our hostel in Dublin until later. But first, breakfast. Leaving the part of the building known as the hotel, we found out that the abyss of last night turned into a beach. 'Tis a shame, we could've visited the beach last night. We got down to the restaurant at exactly 9 am, and the poor girl who was working there didn't even have the windows and doors open. Everyone but Alicia got the full-Irish breakfast, which, if I haven't mentioned it before, is little more than a plate full of cholesterol. And sometimes toast.


We got directions from the girl for the quickest way to the airport. Apparently we were really close and we only had to make about two turns all in all. Simple, right? We thought so. Although our history with the insane lack of any marked roads in Ireland ever, we should've been much more on our toes. She told us to look for a road, the name escapes me now, which we did actually find. It was a half-rusted, partially-bent, faded road sign and was no bigger than a US license plate, and at about 90 kmh we went soaring past, but we turned around and found it. Going off the map that the lady at the car rental place gave us, as well as a giant map of Ireland that Alicia had, we found the airport exit on the M50 (I almost don't want to add that due to my navigation we took the right exit once, decided it was wrong, continued down the road, had to turn around, and took the right exit once again). We made it to the car return parking lot after filling up with gas. I think we figured it out the be around $4 a gallon, which is pretty spendy. Good thing their cars are microscopic.

From Ireland

Goodbye little Opel!

It was a huge relief to know that we made it back in one piece and to know that I didn't have to navigate anymore and I know Philip was relieved he didn't have to drive anymore. For once I was glad to rely on public transportation. The shuttle took us back to the airport where we found a taxi driver who was willing to take us to our hostel. It was getting very near parade time, so they had the road in front of our hostel blocked off, but our driver talked the Garda into letting us through. Also, every building on that street was seemingly assigned the most random numbers anyone could think of. We were looking for no. 7, and found it between no. 52 and 108. It was around 11:30 by the time we lugged our luggage up the stairs to the lobby of the hostel, only to find about a group of 10 people trying to leave. The guy in charge, who we later learned was a Serbian refugee living there with his family and a couple other Serbs, thought we were trying to check out. We stood there waiting for about 10 minutes to learn it wasn't check-in time yet. I paid him for the rooms and we left our luggage in the kitchen area and went off to the parade.

There were vendors upon vendors upon vendors selling cheesey St. Patrick's Day swag. There were people from all different countries everywhere. We found a spot next to the Spire on O'Connell St. to watch the parade. There really wasn't anything out of the ordinary to note, except we stood by students who were in Ireland studying English (some were Dutch, German, etc), I'm pretty sure I deflected a pickpocket while holding Lauren's mom-purse, and people were climbing into trees to get a better view of the parade. Oh, and we got sunburnt. In March. In Ireland.

From Ireland

Parade Crowd

After the parade we made the short walk back to the hostel to put our bags in our rooms. The Serbian, I wish I could remember his name, was nowhere to be found, neither was our key. So Lauren and I put our stuff in our room and closed the door. We actually didn't have a key to that room for the whole time we stayed there. Which also meant we didn't have a key to the front door. That's a funny story, but that comes much later.


After that, we were off to explore Dublin's Fair City. Our first order of business was lunch. Where else to get lunch on St. Patrick's Day in Dublin? The Brazen Head, Ireland's oldest pub, of course. We walked a good while along the river Liffey, which runs right through the heart of the old city. Everywhere you looked you'd see people dressed in orange and green. We made it to the Brazen Head, est. 1198. They're not sure how much of the original buildings still remain, but the Brazen Head consists of three or four rooms, a patio, and an upstairs area. We had to wait outside for some people to leave and walked in to the patio area only to find one of the crowdest pubs in Dublin that day. The only place they were serving food was upstairs, so we found our way up to the second floor where it was suddenly more restaurant-ish than like a pub. They were communal tables so we had to sit wherever there was an open spot. We ended up next to a couple from Germany who were in Dublin just for the weekend to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. As soon as we sat down, the German man took an immediate liking to Phil (if I remember right, it's because of his red hair). They talked the entire time we were there up until the German couple left. "He's my Jake O'Connor" ~Philip

From Ireland

Irish Stew

After lunch we set out to see some more of the city. We went south to see if we could find St. Patrick's Cathedral, but yet again, we got lost. We did, however, end up seeing Dublin Castle, Christchurch Cathedral, and hoards upon hoards of fellow tourist clearly enjoying St. Patrick's Day a bit too well.

From Ireland

On top of the Bars

From Ireland

Christchurch Cathedral

From Ireland

Dublin Castle

I had written down the address to Whelan's Pub, the one they filmed P.S. I Love You in. It is, in fact, a very real place, with a very rich musical history, and is a long ass way from the part of town we were in. 0.8 KM to be exact. By the time we got there I didn't even care about going anymore because I was so tired (we had already walked a couple miles just to get to Dublin Castle). Alas, we made it. And let me tell you, it is purely unlikely Holly would have randomly walked into the same exact pub Gerry was playing in that night. In the movie they make it seem like it was in a little town perhaps in Wicklow and quite possibly the only pub around. Wrong. It's on a busy street and is absolutely surrounded by other pubs. Nonetheless, we were there so we went in to have a pint.

From Ireland

We walked in to a pub that was barely recognizable. It was not the same one as the movie. Sure the colors were the same, but the layout was entirely, unrecognizably, changed. And the entire place was crowded. So was the upstairs area, which was closer to an enclosed rooftop with heaters. We didn't find a seat anywhere so we went out into the hallway and sat on the stairs. That is, until a bouncer came up to find someone and told us we couldn't sit there. So we stood at the top of the stairs. While we were there the manager, one of the guys who wears the white button-down shirts, came walking by to put something in the closet. As he was walking away I asked him if the movie was filmed here. He asked which movie, and said the title of one I'd never heard of. Then he asked if it was the movie Once (which is an absolutely fantastic movie, by the way, and you should check it out sometime). Lauren, miraculously, got what I was getting at and played along. She said something to the effect of "The one with Gerard Butler... where he dies..." and the manager said "Oh, yeah, that one! Yeah, it was filmed downstairs." He then explained that up until about six months prior they had the row of snugs down the middle of the pub but they opened up the whole thing for more room so they took them out. Now we were content. Then he continued to ask where we were from and things like that and Lauren gave her usual spiel about studying abroad in Italy and how we were here for spring break, etc... He asked us if we had ever heard of the band that was playing that night, which we hadn't. Turns out, You Am I, the band, had just performed in Australia for 100,000 people for a benefit concert to help with the wildfires. They are virtually unknown in the US and Ireland. The manager put us on the list.

By then it was getting late, and we went off to find another pub. We went next door to one that seemed like it might have a place to sit. It was called Flannery's. It was probably one of the most eclectic places I've ever seen in my life and was insanely busy. Near the dance floor (or what would have been the dance floor if it hadn't been so crowded) the ceiling and walls were frescoed in classic Michelangelo-style paintings. We found a seat as a couple drinking wine was leaving. Phil opted to stand while the three of us shared the bench. There we had some shots and Philip had, yet again, another pint. Although I have to say that I at least kept with the country we were in and had a shot of Jameson. Lauren and Alicia had Jaeger. Bleh. After we were there for a bit a group of girls started talking to Philip, much to Alicia's discontent. When they were leaving they said they were going next door because it would be quieter. I can't remember the name of the pub now, and I almost want to say it started with an L. No matter, if you're ever in Dublin in Flannery's pub, it's next to it.

From Ireland

Shots at Flannery's

After a few more minutes we decided to follow their lead. Quiet would be a good thing. However, we weren't expecting a completely empty pub, which is what we found. There was one patron at the bar and that was it. It was sort of a mod type of place, too. It had two big screen TVs. Which was great because we had about 15 minutes before The Simpsons' first-ever St. Patrick's Day episode aired. I owed Lauren a shot so I told the bartender "a shot of the cheapest gin you have." I wouldn't even tell Lauren what it was and her face was priceless afterwards.

As it got closer to the beginning of the episode the pub started to slowly fill up with people. Everyone was looking for seats. My guess is that this was the only place around where they were showing it. Finally, the episode started. It was a pretty special moment to be a group of four Americans sitting in a pub full of Irishmen and tourists and laughing at all the same jokes. Some were aimed at the Irish, some at Americans. I don't even like The Simpsons but this was a really funny episode.


The funniest part of the episode. Sorry, but it's the only clip I could find.

After it ended we headed back over to Whelan's for the show. After we were cleared we walked into what was an unmistakably unaltered room where Gerry sang to Holly. It made sense then. The only difference is the door she walks through carrying the Guinness was shut because of the show. Other than that, it was perfect.

From Ireland

Us in front of the stage

From Ireland

You Am I

The show was actually pretty good, too. A band called The Minutes opened and then You Am I came on. Some people in the crowd were singing along, most weren't. Before the end Lauren and I decided to head up to Temple Bar because her friends were meeting her there. So we left Philip and Alicia there and made our way up. The walk was odd, because it seemed infinitely shorter than it should have. Its roughly a kilometer between them. Oh well. Oh, and we stopped for some Chinese food on the way. Yes. Chinese food. Get over it. Lauren conned a couple of guys who were sitting there to open her bottle of beer, which they did. Then we got yelled at by the employees. So we had to sit the furthest away from the front counter as we could so they wouldn't see she hadn't thrown it away. We were on our way again.

We were almost to Temple Bar when we had to make a short detour to cross the street easier. We found Philip and Alicia sitting in some sort of American hamburger shop eating fries and a bacon burger. It was possibly the most random moment of my life. So we went in and talked to them for a bit and continued on our way.


So great

When we got to the mayhem known as Temple Bar (for future reference there's a bar/pub called Temple Bar - or Temple Barra- and there's also a block of shops known as Temple Bar - in this case, "bar" meaning an area next to the river). We were simply to the block. There were Garda all over as well as the most drunk college kids I've ever seen in my whole life. We eventually found her friends, some were cool, some were possibly so annoying it would have been entirely justifiable to slap them. Philip and Alicia found us and after a while we decided to go find a seat in a nearby gelatterie (right? I think that's right...) anyway, to avoid confusion: gelato shop. Lauren eventually went off with her friends and tried to get into Temple Bar but they wouldn't her in because she had a bottle of Bud in her hand. I don't know where they ended up but Philip, Alicia, and I were going to call it a night. So we walked back to the hostel (crossing the River Liffey over Ha'Penny bridge, I might add). It was only when we got to the door that we didn't know how Lauren was going to get in without a key. We only had a key because Phil and Alicia had a key to their room. Then I started to get worried about her getting in but I went to sleep anyway.

From Ireland

One of the lines to get into Temple Bar

From Ireland

Back at the Hotel in one of the hallways by the bathrooms

I was woken up by the sound of someone tromping on the floor seemingly as loud as they could. Then Lauren, miraculously, burst through our unlocked door, scaring me to death. She was drunk, and I don't know how long I'd been asleep but I was mostly just impressed that not only did she make it back on her own, but that she actually got through the front door without a key. She burst into the story without being asked and, like with all of Lauren's stories, they are a billion times better to have her tell it in person but seeing as how I didn't magically record her (man, that would've been a great idea), this is the best I've got: One of her friends had a hostel nearby so she walked back with her. If I remember right, she almost took the wrong street and got lost. When she got to the door she found it locked, of course, so she started ringing the bell. No answer. So she rang it and rang it and finally just held it in. Then she said a guy with long hair who was in his boxers and a t-shirt answered the door. She recounted his voice with an accent, which can only be described as possibly Eastern European, "My room is next to the bell. I heard it so I came to see who was out here." She then went into further description about this guy. By the time she told me this I was laughing so hard because not only did I imagine this guy to look similar to what Viktor Krumm would look like, she has a way of making things a hundred times funnier than what they probably are. So she finished getting ready for bed and we both fell asleep to drunk tourists walking the street outside our window. Thus, the end of St. Patrick's Day 2009.

Bonus!
This is the trailer for Once, because I believe it's a great movie. Also, it has some shots of Dublin, which makes me want to go back so bad...

Ireland 2009 Day 5

On the morning of day 5, we awoke to the breeze from the bay, the sounds of seagulls, and our miserable little yellow room. There were no boxes or vats of corn flakes in the morning, all we had were a couple of bananas and some of the oranges. We slowly got ready. Phil even braved the freezing cold shower. I can't remember when exactly we were ready, but it was early enough for none of the stores in Bantry to be open (on a Monday morning, mind you). We had wanted to visit the Woolen Mills shop to see if they had any Aran Island sweaters, since we weren't going to realistically make it to Galway, Bantry was probably going to be be our best bet. (Side note: the Aran Islands are located off the coast of Galway in western Ireland). We decided to just pack up and head out, we needed to make it to Dublin by that night.

We tried, unsuccessfully, to get to Bantry's Great House before leaving. The gate was locked and it had a sign that said the real way was through town somehow.


Leaving Bantry

Needless to say much of the day was spent driving. But that's not to say it wasn't interesting. Much of southwestern/western Ireland is in a sort of prairie. None of us had known this before. You certainly never see it on postcards. The road out of Bantry lead us north through hills and mountains. We weren't going to make it to Galway, but we were hoping for Limerick at least.


Miles away from Bantry, looking south

Along the winding roads, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we found sheep that had gotten out. The gate was also swung out onto the road so if anyone hadn't been paying attention, they would have clipped it for sure. We stopped and got about 5 of the sheep back in (there were about 4 left out) and closed the gate. I figured that leaving 4 out rather than letting the whole herd out was much better.


Notice the obvious lack of a guard rail.


Oak-lined drive


Sheepies!

Somewhere around Dromgariff we stopped at an outlook spot called Bard's something-or-other. Phil and I got some good pictures there.


This is probably my favorite picture from the whole trip.

It was just outside of Kenmare that we took a wrong turn. Well, it wasn't an actual wrong turn, we just accidently got on the road that completely bypassed Killarney National Park. At the intersection of the N22 near Inch, we got back on the road to Killarney. We were getting hungry and decided to stop for lunch. Unfortunately at this point it was only about 10:30 or 11 by the time we arrived, so not many places were open for lunch. We killed some time in the Killarney Woolen Mills shop and wandered into what we thought was a deli but it turned out it had an entire restaurant attatched to the back. After we ate we slowly made our way back to the car but we found a little ice cream shop that had two special flavors of the month. Irish whiskey and Guinness. Of course we tried both, and the girl in the shop told us that Killarney has a couple of neat things to see, if we had the time (which we didn't).


Killarney


Ice Cream!


The cones were awesome.

We continued north on the N22, N23, N21, and N20 to get to Limerick. I'm not really sure why Phil and Alicia wanted to go to Limerick, other than the fact that it had one of the most direct routes back to Dublin, but it is cool to say we had been to Limerick. Thanks the the guidebook, we learned that there were two major points of interest in Limerick. St. Anne's Cathedral, which was built in 1280, and the castle which was built sometime in the 1400s. We got lost, of course, on our way to the cathedral due to very poorly marked signs. After visiting the cathedral Lauren lead the way to a celtic bookstore she had seen down the street. Of course it was closed for whatever reason, but it would have been great to go in. From the looks of it, every single book was devoted in some way to Ireland, the Celts, myths and lore, and so on. We walked back to the car and attempted to find the castle, but got severely lost in the process. We ended up down by the harbor, a new shopping centre, and back by the way we came. It was a lost cause, and it was growing a bit late so we gave it up.


St. Anne's Cathedral


St. Anne's Cathedral


St. Anne's Cathedral

Since we were in Limerick, the Cliffs of Moher were only about an hour and a half to the west. I tried to get them to go, but ultimately we decided against it. We were on the way to Dublin and not very much more exciting happened until we were on the outskirts.


You know you're in Ireland when...

After driving for three hours straight (on top of the 3ish hours we had spent in the car before Limerick) we were in desperate need of a pit stop. By this time we were all hungry but the only things to eat in the gas station didn't look appealing. After stretching our legs we got back in the car and made the decision, to avoid the M50 and the toll fee, to drive through the center of Dublin and try to find lodging in Howth or Swords or somewhere in the area. Unfortunately, we didn't fully counter in the fact that it was the night before St. Patrick's Day, therefore the entire city was absolutely crawling with tourists and buses and taxis.

We made it through, however we missed an intersection and ended up in the northeast part of Dublin. We were lost for about an hour until, in the complete dark, we came upon a B&B in Baldoyle. It was across the street from some black abyss that we couldn't see what it was... mountainside, farm, ocean.... no clue. Don't ask me how we found it, but it was entirely by chance. The only other business-type place around was a kebab shop right next door. I went in and asked for a price on a room which came to I believe 45 or 50 euro a night per person. I went back to the car and we discussed it. I then asked a couple of guys standing on the street waiting for the bus if there were any hostels in the area and they replied that the closest ones were in Dublin. We ultimately decided that this was better than nothing, and it did come with breakfast in the morning. When we got back in to talk to the guy he said he realized that he only had double rooms left and dropped the price to 75 euro per room.

He showed us to our rooms which were only accessible by walking outside to the back of the building. He pointed out a small off-license store, which was apparently (and believably) the only place to buy anything to eat. After we got settled in we headed back downstairs to get something to eat. The kebab place looked like it had better food from the outside, but when we got inside we were pretty sure we'd get food poisoning or something worse. So we went back to the pub next door and had dinner, which seemed like it took forever to get there (in all actuality, even though we were hungry, it really did take a long time to get there).


Mine and Lauren's room... most of that stuff is her's. It's like it exploded when we set our bags down.

Lauren and I ventured into the convenience store to get some ice cream before heading up to our room. Walking into the little run-down c-store was like walking into its own city. It was so crowded and there were maybe one or two cars outside. Lauren bought a bottle of Budweiser and a bottle of Heineken. I bought two miniature bottles of Paddy's Irish Whiskey. One for my mom, who collects miniature whiskey bottles, and another one that I had intended to drink, but never got around to and ultimately ended up giving to my dad when I got home.

Nothing much more happened that night, it was around 9 or 10 when we first got there and dinner (due in large part to the waiting time) took a long while, and we decided we should rest up for the big day ahead of us.

Lauren was in the shower when our drunk Danish (or Finnish or Swedish... whatever) neighbors got back to their rooms. They were loud and pretty interesting to listen to. I'm pretty sure one fell down right outside our door (which we later found out never locked properly). I told her about them when she got out of the shower but after about two minutes I needn't have bothered. They came back out into the hall for whatever reason. After my shower I went to sleep to the sounds of drunk Scandanavians, next to an abyss, in the middle of nowhere on a bed that was concaved around my body. This was definitely turning out to be a great trip. Little did we know how great it was about to get.

Ireland 2009 Day 4

Our first encounter with a "Full Irish Breakfast" came when we went down to breakfast once we woke up. Of course they offered us tea or coffee, and there were vats of corn flakes to be had, but our 30 euro a night room let us order a choice of Full Irish, Eggs, or Toast. When she brought Lauren's Full Irish out, you could just smell the cholesterol. Define Full Irish Breakfast: Irish bacon (like ham), eggs, sausage, potatoes, and grilled tomato optional. I opted for the eggs, which was somewhat of a mistake since they were boiled, just not hard-boiled. (For the record, I was only expecting them to be hard-boiled, apparently it's common for them to be cooked like these were).

After breakfast we packed up and lugged our luggage down the three flights of stairs, since we had energy and we were all secretly afraid of the elevator. It became very apparent to us that we were not in America anymore when we walked down the "main drag" on a Sunday morning in Europe. In America by 9, maybe 10, all of the stores on the "main drag" would have been open since we're the blood-sucking capitalists that we are. But of course the stores weren't open. Especially since there were quite a few that we wanted to go to. None of them even had hours posted. I guess that it's actually quite true when they say Europeans take time to enjoy life.

We were headed to Blarney, but we wanted to mail some postcards since the map said we were close to a drop box. However, we got the map turned upside down and ended up at St. Finbarre's Cathedral instead, which was, coincidently, the exact opposite of the post box.

Since it was Sunday they weren't allowing any visitors until after mass, but we still got some pretty cool shots of the outside. After deciding that it was too far away to walk to the postal drop box we were originally trying to get to, we just walked back to the car and headed for Blarney.


St. Finbarre's Cathedral, Cork, Co. Cork

Blarney Castle, as I'm sure you've heard of it, is quite famous for the "Blarney Stone". If you kiss it, it gives the gift of eloquence (not luck, as is mistakenly believed). And, since it's such a tourist hot spot, it was actually well pointed out on the road so we didn't have any trouble with finding it.

After paying the 8 euro admission, you are faced with some of the castle grounds before you even glimpse the castle. There's a small stream with a bridge to cross as well as a somewhat long but very enjoyable walk. And, just to sum up what took about an hour or two: We entered the queue at the very bottom of the castle in the basement but the upper floor/basement ceiling has been rotted away so it's one two-story room. There's also a fireplace floating in the middle of the wall, which is kind of odd if you didn't read the sign to realize what was going on. After that room you move through the master bedroom, around a corner, and up a very narrow, steep staircase all the way to the top of the castle. There are side rooms that you can walk through, if people would be nice enough to let you back in line, but mostly you just look at them. Once you're at the top of the castle, you wind around the outside walls because the entire center floors of the castle have been rotted away.


Blarney Castle


Floating fireplace. It would have been located in the Great Hall.


A shot of the beginning of the queue

While waiting in line to get to the stone, a guy a few people in front of us went to look over the top of the stone wall. He stumbled and dropped his camera from the top of the castle. It fell 4 stories. After they kissed the stone he quickly ran down to retrieve it. Lauren and I were almost to the Blarney Stone when the guy who holds onto people said he would be right back and he rushed off down the other spiral staircase. About 8 minutes later he emerged again, wheezing and winded. The Australian man in front of us said "Don't get weak on us now!" and we laughed. Kissing the Blarney Stone consists of laying on your back and holding onto the bars and kissing the stone upside down. Lauren kissed the stone, I couldn't. I couldn't stomach all the germs (it was a really long queue).


Lauren kissing the Blarney Stone

After the kiss, we were free to wander down to the bottom again on the down staircase. The top of the castle also provides awesome sights of Blarney and the surrounding countryside as well as the Blarney estate house. While Philip and Alicia were kissing the stone, Lauren and I headed down to the dungeons, which is where they kept water as well as the prisoners. We entered the dark casm to sounds of screaming and whining and both Italian and French. Apparently a group of teenagers had dared two girls to climb back under the rocks, which were still part of the dungeons, but there was absolutely no light whatsoever. There was also water dripping off the moss on the ceiling. I also found a staircase carved into the rock that literally lead into the ceiling, just like in the Winchester House in San Jose, California.


One of the two stairways. The stone supports itself. (Look closely).


The middle of the castle where the floors used to be.


A view of the Irish countryside.


Me in the dungeons on the staircase that leads into the ceiling.

After we met up with Phil and Alicia again we headed to the Blarney estate house, which wasn't terribly exciting, since it was closed for the winter and wouldn't open until June. The outside was impressive, and we did find a magnolia tree that was absolutely beautiful.


Blarney Estate House


Magnolia Tree

We wandered into the town of Blarney to the grocery store for some lunch. We sat on a park bench to eat. I had strawberry yogurt, Lauren had blueberry yogurt, Alicia had some sort of toffee yogurt, and I can't remember what kind of yogurt Phil had. We also finally found a post box in Blarney.


This was found in the grocery store in Blarney. I HAD to take a picture of it.

It was on the park bench that we decided that we wanted to find a beach because none of us had been to the Atlantic ocean. We then headed south, with no real plan as to where to stay or where to go. We were driving along the N71 and got closer to the coast, somewhere around Clonakilty we passed at least 30 rally cars heading the opposite direction. Around Rosscarbery we found a little inlet so we decided to stop. There was an enormous mansion off the road so we got some pictures of it and were about to head out again until we saw a little, faded, bent up, metal metal sign that said "BEACH". We followed the winding one-lane road about a quarter mile and came upon a parking lot and some dunes and the Atlantic Ocean, via Rosscarbery Bay. Pictures will follow, but I will say one thing... up to that point the coldest water I had ever been in was the Mediterranean off the coast of France.


Between the parking lot and the beach


Rosscarbery Bay





After successfully acheiving our goal of finding the beach, we were then left with the question of "now where?" Our options were limited as it was now around 2 or 3 in the afternoon and we definitely didn't want to drive in the dark. There was Skibbereen, Dunmanway, or Bantry. I was really hoping for Bantry but I didn't want to be a bitch and dictate the trip so I was really glad when Alicia said "Oh! Bantry! I wanted to go there!" Apparently Bantry has one of the Great Houses of Ireland. Then we were off to Bantry, which was about a 2 hour drive. On the way there, we spotted a cool landscape photo op, so Philip slammed on the brakes onto the side of the road and put the hazard lights on. He was getting the hang of Irish driving. I didn't have my shoes on becasue my feet had sand all over them from the beach so I had to walk back to the spot with bare feet. Luckily I didn't cut my feet on glass or something. But the picture was worth it, and I made a friend.


My friend. I named him Brody (like from P.S. I Love You). He wanted to go with us.

The sun was set and was lingering on twilight by the time we finally reached the outset of Bantry where we found this sign:


"NOTICE: This anchor was taken in a trawl by the motor trawler "Saoirse", skippered by Pat Deasy on the 11th September, 1964. Experts believe that it is one of those anchors left behind when the French fleet under Wolfe Tone, which was coming to assist Irish Rebels in 1796 were forced to cut their anchors in a gale and retire. The anchor weighs 17 CWT. Not quite so historical but equally as interesting if you are dying of thirst is the Anchor Bar which erected this sign."

Twilight was dimming by the time we reached Bantry, which is situated on a bay. We stopped to get a couple of pictures of the grey bay when Alicia noticed a massive cemetary behind us with hundreds upon hundreds of old and interesting tombstones. Right at this point the music we had been listening to (an odd classical station) had turned into something similar of the Jaws theme with deep and foreboding sounds. We joked that it would surprise none of us if a giant sea monster rose out of the water right in front of us.


Awesome cemetary just outside of Bantry.

We continued into town and parked in the main square. We asked three teenage girls if there was a hostel around and one pointed it out to us, since it was right by. We walked over and were met with a sign on the door saying to inquire at the B&B next door. We walked over and didn't even get into the door when we were met with an old lady who then showed us the way through the hostel. She was going to put us in a room with 10 metal bunk beds but when we asked if the door locked she said no, but the small room down the hall did. To our dismay (well, mine at least, since I'm pretty sure I noticed it before anyone else did) there were two wooden bunks that looked like they could barely support the mattress on top, let alone a 100+ lb body. After paying her 12.50 euro (which was a great price, since our room faced the bay), she went on her way and we went to dinner.


Walking to the hostel in Bantry


Swans in Bantry Bay


Dinner in Bantry

We then walked to our car and drove back to the hostel to bring our luggage closer. We lugged it up the stairs and by then Alicia decided that she wanted to stay in for the night but insisted that the rest of us go out. We left her there and walked up one of the streets and stopped outside "The Anchor Bar". The sounds coming from the inside sounded a lot like Pirates' Tortuga. We were interested in something a little less busier. So we walked another two blocks (which were all the way completely deserted) until Lauren said she didn't want to go anymore. I made her walk a little farther until we saw a "Guinness" sign and found Ma Murphys.

There was laughing so we walked in. Not being used to the way the off-license stores in Ireland work, we walked into a deserted room with a counter and another door. It was seriously odd what with all the laughing. However we braved the second door and walked right into the pub.

The scene was this: A group of friends sitting and talking and laughing, an old guy manning the bar (who Lauren still insists was drunk, but I'm not so sure), a couple of older guys sitting around, about three guys in their 20s trying to make a bet over something or other with the bartender, and Jake O'Connor. Now, Jake was in with the group of friends, but he was so significant that he gets to be mentioned seperately.

As soon as he saw Lauren enter (she was first), he saw her and must have thought "fresh meat" or something because he wouldn't leave her alone the entire time we were there. Truly, the retelling can't do the story justice. Just look at the picture:


Jake O'Connor and Lauren. Notice the dribble on his shirt.

After the old man, whose name is Bill, disappeared for a while, his daughter took over bartending. She told us the story of the guns on the wall. Apparently about 16years ago a man from Virginia was in the bar and got to talking to Bill about some war in America (I can't remember which one it was... I think Civil). He told Bill he collected relics from the beach from that war and when he got back he'd send him some. Her dad never thought much of it until about 2 months later the guns and relics arrived in boxes.

We were getting tired (I opted to not drink anything tonight to try to get a decent night's sleep) but we had to escape Jake who kept trying to get Lauren to go to the bar "across the street" with him. He eventually left with his friends to go there. In truth, there was no bar across the street, or anywhere else in sight aside from the Anchor Bar down by the square. So we hurried back to the hostel, constantly looking around for Jake. We got back to find Alicia still awake and recounted the whole tale to her.


Leaving Ma Murphy's

We got ready for bed, and we were the only ones in the entire two-story hostel. Apparently Lauren saw someone's stuff in one of the rooms downstairs, but there was no one in sight. We slept with the window open to the bay so we could feel the breeze and smell the saltwater.


I got the bunk above Alicia, and Philip got the one above Lauren (the wobblier of the two).

There was no side rail to prevent anyone from falling off so every single time I wanted to roll over, my mind woke itself up enough to consciously roll over without rolling off the bed. Which is a good thing I suppose, but my "decent night's sleep" was shot. And apparently soon after I fell asleep (Alicia was awake still) I stirred enough to hear someone or something tearing through all the rooms in the hostel, opening and slamming doors (like, literally slamming them). I didn't hear it, but Alicia said they tried our door but it was locked thankfully. The next morning the stuff in the room on the first floor was still there, untouched. And the front door was locked by a combination, so we had no idea what had gone on the previous night.