Ending our Summer in Paradise (a.k.a. Italy)

After saying goodbye to mom and pop Wessel, we had only one day left in Dublin before taking off for Italy. In Ireland, it’s potatoes and pints; in Italy it’s pizza and pasta. Here it’s “lashing down rain by half-two;” there it’s “bask in the sun until it sets.” Here it’s a Full Irish Breakfast, there it’s coffee and croissant. Here they love good craic; there it’s amore. We were off for our week of wonderment in Italy!
But first, we threw a going away party at our flat on Thomas Street. It was great to see everyone one last time, even if it left us a bit knackered for our day of travel to Rome. Our late flight got us to the hostel past midnight, so we went to sleep to load up for the exciting day ahead.

The first thing we learned is that the Italians aren’t big on breakfast. They demand a strong coffee but are otherwise content to eat a croissant. After an tiny breakfast, we set out for an epic day of touring. With only 24 hours to take it all in we purchased tickets for a hop-on-hop-off bus tour, assuming it would be the easiest way to see the sights. Unfortunately, in our panicked excitement, we chose the bus that toured “Christian Rome,” meaning it stopped at every basilica but deemed other things unimportant such as, say, the Coliseum. So we ditched the bus and became our own guides. In one day we saw the Forum, the Coliseum, San Pietro, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain, Circo Massimo and Piazza Navona. We ate lunch in the shade and hijacked several walking tours to catch free glimpses of historical information. We signed the guestbook at the Pantheon, drank water from the fountains near the Trevi and walked the streets without aim, reveling in the endless amounts of fascinating sights. Rome is an awe-inspiring city. It oozes history and screams culture at every corner. Once we felt we had satiated our curiosity thoroughly, we made our way to the top of the Spanish steps where we met up with Ben, our good friend from Dublin. Like us, he was from the states, worked in Dublin for the summer and was now traveling. It was nice to have good company. We bought a bottle of wine and shared it as we watched the sunset over Rome while being serenaded by opera pouring from the church behind us. Because no self-respecting Roman eats dinner before 9:00, we fought off hunger until then and made our way to an awesome pizza place for dinner. It had been suggested to us by Mariano, an Italian friend from Dublin, and his local advice turned out to be excellent. After dinner we enjoyed a glorious round of gelato which we ate all the way home, crossing beautiful bridges with views of lit-up castles. What a city!

We awoke early the next morning to start our travels to the coast. With our combined Spanish skills and a heaping portion of hand language, we translated our way through public transportation all the way to Sant’ Angello, a small town north of Sorrento. We walked to Hostel Seven which is easily the most amazing hostel in all of Europe – just ask anyone staying there. The owner is a flamboyant Italian man who can be seen in full linen suits smoking cigars and making sure his guests are enjoying themselves. His theory: “Everyone deserves beauty, no matter how old they are or how much money they have.” So he created this gorgeous hostel that feels like a 5-star hotel on a hostel budget. A restaurant within serves lunch and dinner for only 5 euro a piece. Guests can lounge on the three rooftop terraces, swim in the pool or relax beneath the circle cabanas overlooking the sea. The two bars – one near the courtyard on the first floor and the other on the terrace – are open late at night, so guests are encouraged to stick around and meet one another. This made for three great nights of meeting loads of people from Australia, New Zealand, Scotland and Switzerland. Truthfully, we could have chilled out there for our entire stay, but there was much to see!

The first afternoon we sunbathed at the Sant’ Angello beach where our Ireland-bleached skin stood out dramatically against these southern sun worshippers. After the sun set we walked into Sorrento for one of the most memorable dinners of summer. We sat at a cozy table for two on a patio listening to an accordion player, drinking wine and eating delicious pastas. The manager befriended us and on more than one occasion came to say, “Hello ladies. What you need? Tell Tony. He take care of you,” dramatic Italian hand gesticulations and all. With happy bellies, we strolled home, picking grapes off of vines on the way. We watched the sunset from the terrace and went to sleep. (This was the first of many moments in Italy where we realized how much the romantic atmosphere necessitates being there with a fiancé. Haha at least we have each other.)

Day two in Sorrento was downright amazing. We took a ferry out to Capri and ported at Marina Grande. This island deserves its reputation as being a hotspot for decadence, wealth and beauty. The shops were not the quaint marketplaces of Ireland. They were Prada, Feragamo, Fendi and other such champagne-budget stores. The women were dressed in expensive dresses and the ports were packed with enormous yachts with brown bodies lazing about on their decks. We decided to avoid the extravagance and opted a day of adventure. It began with a hike up and over the island to the other side, a 3-mile trail with a sharp incline and some serious heat. At the opposite side, we rented a double kayak and set out to sea. We paddled around ¼ of the island, through narrow caves and in and out of coves where the water glowed a bright blue. We eventually docked at a quiet shore, climbed the volcanic rocks and spent a few hours cliff jumping into the refreshing sea. During the grand finale jump, Mer got stun in the throat by a jellyfish. While most people may have panicked at this point, we decided to celebrate because – c’mon! How many people can say they’ve been stun by a jellyfish while cliff-jumping on Capri? Only slightly spooked, we hopped back in the kayak sang Disney songs all the way back. After a cheap pizza dinner in Sant’ Angello, we spent another fantastic evening on the rooftop hanging out with ten Aussies and swapping stories of travel and adventure.

Our last day in Italy and indeed, our last day of adventure and freedom, came too soon. We took the train to Pompei and spent the morning wandering around the city. It was surprisingly large and well-preserved, making it possible to imagine what life was like for them. As is custom for us, we didn’t pay for a tour, but rather hijacked onto bits and pieces of other people’s. Among the highlights were the brothel with erotic frescos on the walls, the amphitheatre with an adjoining open-air lobby and the Gladiator barracks. It was a great dose of history and an amazing sight to see. The afternoon was spent on the seaside town of Positano which we reached by the most frightening bus ride ever, swerving down the winding roads while the cliffs dropped precipitously next to us. Unlike most of the Amalfi coast, Positano has a sandy beach so we laid out, read our books and basked in the perfect Mediterranean breeze. Back at the hostel we ate dinner with girls from Seattle and Vancouver. Ben got into town that afternoon and stayed at the same hostel, so we were excited to hang out with him once again. The five of us spent the evening on the terrace. We were so enthralled with the perfectness that we decided to sleep on the coaches. Imagine the most perfect weather possible – great temperature, slight breeze and no bugs. We slept in heaven.

We woke up yesterday morning and spent the entire day traveling. It took a train to Naples, a train to Rome, a bus to the airport, plane to Dublin, a bus home and about 12 hours before we were back to the flat. We packed up everything we owned, nudged in three hours of sleep and woke up at 6 this morning to fly home.

Now we sit in the Philadelphia Airport, a bit flabbergasted to be back in the country. There is no way we could sum up our summer, the things we learned and the experiences we loved. All we can really say is how grateful we are to have been able to go and how much we’re going to miss the life of adventure. Thanks for keeping in touch with us all summer. Cheers, slainte, luck and love,

Mer and Al

Travels with the Wessels

Closing up ties in Dublin came sooner than we thought. The Wessels arrived in Dublin on Wednesday, so we both went in for our last shifts at work. Despite the original complications, we ended up with jobs that brought us friends, fun and spending money, which is all we could have asked for. It didn’t take too long to get over the lament of leaving work because the Wessel adventure was about to begin. They spent two nights in Dublin seeing our favorite sights, checking out our flat and catching a glimpse of our Dublin life. Lewis and Karen visited both of us at work then enjoyed a night out with Al while Mer ran he last shift at La Med. The next morning brought a semi-sunny day, so the four of us strolled around St. Stephen’s Green with coffee, toured the National Gallery, and took pictures at the Oscar Wilde Statue. Mer went home to pack while the Wessels toured Kilmainham Gaol, the jail that housed food robbers during the famine and saw the execution of the organizers of the Easter Rising in 1916. That evening, we were treated to a delicious meal at The Church, a medieval church-turned-restaurant, before taking our seats at Abbey Theatre to see An Ideal Husband. The theatre itself is jam-packed with history, as it was first opened by revolvers in 1907 as a venue to showcase the Irish theatre, music and entertainment that had been forbidden by the British. The play, a classic by Oscar Wilde, was well done with excellent acting and staging and heaps of quotable one-liners. We even got in a bit of good craic that night with Lew, a pint of Guinness, and some live music at The Quay’s in Temple Bar.

The next morning we took off in a rental car headed to the Wicklow Mountains with Lew as our fearless left-hand driver. We stopped at the seaside towns of Dalkey, Brea and Dun Loughaire (pronounced done leary), grabbed lunch and enjoyed the scenic winding roads through the mountains, oftentimes driving with a stone hedge grazing our left mirror and an oncoming tour bus narrowly missing our right. We checked into an adorable B&B nestled in a river valley that led to Glendalough, an ancient monastery that is visited today for its history and mystical quality. From our B&B we were able to walk the skipping-stone bridge to a pathway that followed the river into town. That night we enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Glendalough hotel followed by a stroll around the ruins and a rousing game of Scrabble back at the B&B.

These Irish people take their breakfasts very seriously, Here, it is customary to order a “Full Irish” which includes potatoes, ham, sausage, black and white pudding (mashed up meat patties), poached eggs and toast. Lew ventured for the Full while we girls stuck to eggs and boiled tomatoes. We were going to need some serious fuel for the day ahead. The Wicklow Mountains are known for breathtaking views, great hikes and perpetual rain. We managed to experience all three of these things during an epic hike. We climbed a long and narrow pathway to the top of a ledge, hiked the length of the ridge surrounded by hills of heather and sheep, then climbed a slippery rock path back down, following a waterfall toward a lake below. In all the hike was about 6 miles and it didn’t stop raining once. Always the optimists, we rallied through the storm and the soaked clothes together, singing songs to the sheep like a scene out of The Sound of Music. By the time we trudged our drenched bodies back home, we were grateful for a hot shower, dry clothes and a simple pub dinner in town. To use a great Irish phrase, we were “knackered,” so sleeping in a warm and comfy bed never felt so good.

The next morning we bid farewell to the gorgeous views of Wicklow and to Holly the dog who had become our buddy. We drove to the Rossborough House, a lavishly-decorated mansion that holds the art and antique collections of wealthy owners through the centuries. We took a tour with a knowledgeable guide who had stories behind every painting, chair, table, and statuette. Just before the last owner of the mansion died he built a hedge maze in back of the house, which we had a great time getting lost in. The hedges grow thick and green so finding the end was pretty tricky. At one point, poor lost Lew had to resort to waving his hat above his head so we could lead him around. That afternoon we toured the Rock of Cashel, another beautiful and impressive ancient castle. It was built atop a rocky hill in “the most fertile area of Ireland” which, for this country, is really significant. We also drove to Roscrea, the hometown of Al’s ancestors. We toured the castle they lived beside and walked the streets of their quaint town. Finally we drove through Cork to the south end of the island, ending at the lovely seaside town of Kinsale where we would be staying our final two nights.

The Old Presbytery B&B was beautiful, with a spacious living room, comfy beds and a delightful breakfast. Kinsale itself is a compact town and nothing is more than a ten minute walk away. We enjoyed walking the narrow, winding streets, taking in the seaside vistas and enjoying the epically good craic at night. Our first night there, we committed an Irish cardinal sin and ate Thai food. There are only so many versions of fish, chips, cabbage and stew that one can eat before one just craves some Pad Thai! After dinner we found two great live acts. Both were old Irish dudes playing guitar and belting out Irish ballads intermixed with Simon and Garfunkel, Van Morrison and Nancy Griffith tunes. We made it a habit to always request our favorite Irish tune “Galway Girl” whose charm is quickly waning after our hundredth round of it.

The next morning we set out to explore Kinsale after a great breakfast of fresh fruit crepes. Our walking tour was very informative. Not only did we learn the history of Kinsale, but we also got a refresher course on all of European History as the guide was keen on making connections between Kinsale and the fate of the world. For instance, if you think about it just the right way, without Kinsale, the United States never would have gained independence in 1776. Maybe a stretch, but at least he kept our attention. Lunchtime was spent wandering the local market where we drank amazing hot chocolate (orange flavored for Mer and praline for Al) and browsed the craft market. We spent the sunny afternoon walking to a scenic point a couple of miles away from where we got great views of the harbor and a star fort that was the reason Kinsale was such a well-protected harbor. In yet another act of Irish defiance, we dined at an Indian restaurant. Sorry Paddy, but our palates were craving some spice! We returned to the same great pub as the night before for more great entertainment. That night, an old Irish dude was telling jokes and intermittently singing a song or two. Irish people love to laugh at themselves, so most of his act was making fun of Irish people and their strange habits.

We slowly drove back to Dublin the next day, stopping for lunch at a classic pub along the way. Lew even braved the streets of the city to drop us right off at home where we bid them goodbye. Al will be going home to South Carolina before school starts, so it was only goodbye for a little while. What a great way to spend our final days in Ireland: excellent company, beautiful scenery and real good craic. Now back to Dublin for one night only!

Our Encounter With Fame

We're home for a day between the Wessel adventure and the Italy extravaganza. So sorry this post is short, but we'll update more soon!

Work seemed as usual for Mer last Tuesday. In the lull of the 4:00-5:00 period she was folding napkins, slicing lemons and doing other such tedious tasks to pass the time. That’s when fate walked in the door in the form of a 7-foot-tall black man clad in tight jeans, leather boots, massive sunglasses and two pierced ears. “This guy must be kidding,” thought Mer who was somewhere between impressed and embarrassed at the way he turned heads.

So she sat him at table six and brought him a menu. The man introduced himself as Franklin who grew up in Chicago and now lived in L.A. Franklin and Mer started blabbing away about their love of Chicago and their thoughts of Dublin. It turned out Franklin was the drummer in a band that had been touring around since April, so they talked about his travels and his favorite cities. “What kind of music do you play,” asker Mer. “Rock and Roll,” responded Franklin with a smooth smile. “And what’s the name of your band?” asked Mer.” “Lady and the Krumpets…” mumbled Franklin.

Well, Mer had never heard of them so they continued to have mindless conversation about nature, Australia and other such random things. Then at the end of the meal, Mer brought Franklin his bill and said, “Hey why don’t you write down the name of your band and I’ll look up some of your stuff?”

Franklin looked kind of surprised, but started writing…”L…E…N…LENNY KRAVITZ!” He’d only gotten to the “V” when Mer started freaking out and apologizing for not reacting with more excitement initially. “I must have misunderstood you!” she giggled nervously, “Of course I’ve heard of your band!” Franklin laughed, “Ain’t no thang, girl. I’m used to people freaking out so I’m glad you stayed cool. Just gimme a moment.” He pulled out his blackberry and called up his agent and ten minutes later, Mer and Al were “on the list for the show tomorrow night…just for being you.” Franklin strolled out of the restaurant and Mer sprinted into the kitchen to shriek and giggle out her excitement.

The next night, we showed up to Marley Park, a huge outdoor venue to see One Republic, Alanis Morrisette and Lenny Kravitz. Outdoor venues in Ireland are, of course, a recipe for disaster as the concertgoers inevitably leave covered in mud and soaked from rain. So we danced in the rain, rocked out to Alanis and Lenny and had a blast. At the end of it all, we went to get a snack for the ride home and struck up a conversation with a man eating a hot dog. He claimed that his father owned the park, but Al was skeptical and told him, “Get me a hotdog to prove it.” He thought she was crazy, but, determined to prove his lineage, he got Al a free hot dog. Free tickets. Free hot dog. Sweet concert. Life is good.

Just when we thought things couldn’t get better…

At the risk of sounding hyperbolic, we won’t say our trip to Edinburgh was the most incredible three days of summer…but it was pretty darn close. What began as an impulse purchase on Ryanair.ie ended up being a vacation whose charm was only rivaled by its entertainment. Knowing we’d only have 48 hours to take it all in, we solicited the advice of the experts: Carolyn Bishop and Anne McMurray, our NU buds who had studied abroad there. Anne’s suggestions coupled with Carolyn’s impressive hour-by-hour schedule took all the stress out of planning. Carolyn’s itinerary told us where to eat, play, shop, tour, rest, view, dance and even grab some late night munchies!

We arrived on Tuesday and took a bus to our hostel. Unlike other hostels, this was hotel-like and inhabited by families who hit the sack hours earlier than us. Not to worry– we weren’t here to make friends. We were here to explore! We made our way to the Fringe Festival booking office to pick up tickets for an evening show. The Fringe is the largest arts festival in the world and takes over Edinburgh all August. There are over 200 venues and every day features 100s of acts of theater, comedy, music, dance, and street performance. The streets are lined with costumed lunatics trying to pedal their shows, each attempting to make a bigger spectacle than the next to draw in patrons. There were men on stilts, women hula-hooping, young Chinese kids screaming “Free hugs!,” a man laying face-down on the pavement feigning death, and more unicyclists, fire jugglers and human statues than we’ve seen in a lifetime. The Fringe schedule was overwhelming so we frantically chose an evening show with a catchy title in the comedy genre to hit up after dinner.

Maggie Dickinson’s Pub on Grassmarket Street filled us up with traditional Scottish grub and delightful atmosphere. We savored plates of Haggis, Neeps & Tatties (they even make a veggie version!), and drank Cider which we paid for in pounds, not Euro. We then strolled the winding cobblestone streets to Sweet Trevia Place for our unique comedy show whose gender-therapy-class atmosphere threw us a bit off-guard. The show let out around 10:00 and, always the sweet tooths, we began a quest for a “wee sweetie.” The stars were aligned when we stumbled upon Maxie’s Wine Bistro, a cozy old restaurant with wrap-around couches, plush pillows, chocolate cake and a bottle of sauvignon blanc. What a slice of heaven.

On Carolyn’s request, we ended the night at Three Sister’s, a great Scottish pub. Though we met some entertaining Scottish lads, we were far more enthralled with watching the Olympics. (It’s interesting to hear the British commentators’ take on the games, as they focus very little on Americans and much more on Team GB.) The walk home involved a pilgrimage to Pizza Palace for chips n’ cheese, the Scottish heart-attack-in-a-box that was just indulgent enough to suit our fancy.

After a restful sleep in family-friendly land, we arose early to carpe diem. The sun was shining, but the air was cold, so we bundled up for the walk down the Royal Mile. This happening stretch leads to the center of Edinburgh: the castle which is built on a high rock precipice and visible for anywhere in the city. In true obnoxious tourist fashion, we purchased not only castle tickets, but

audio guides as well and spent the next hours buried in our headphones, listening to tales of the Great Hall, Mary Queen of Scots, Oliver Cromwell, the Crowned Jewels, William Wallace and even the Royal Dog Cemetery. The castle walls boasted brilliant views of the surrounding city and the sea to the East.

The afternoon was packed with activity. Near St. Giles Cathedral we saw a rousing performance by Sam Wallis, the Kiwi who juggled fire while balancing atop a shaky tower. We stopped for lunch at the Elephant House, the site of J.K. Rowling’s literary inspiration, and marveled at the views of the castle and the plethora of elephant-themed statues, books, furniture and shortbread cookies. The next hour was spent roaming the halls of the National Museum of Scotland (these Europeans really have the right idea with their free admission to museums) where we learned about medieval torture, the making of tweed, the burial practices of Vikings and how the tumultuous progression of Scotland’s kings and queens made it the country it is today. We also learned that before the continents shifted, England and Scotland were actually part of different land masses that collided together creating a giant valley that is still known as the Borders. We strolled Princes Street, the major shopping district, creeped around in a breathtakingly green graveyard and drank some coffee at a beautiful Starbucks whose Victorian windows looked out on the Castle and a handful of other magical-looking ancient edifices.

We began Wednesday evening with our second homage to the Fringe. We saw Free Outgoing, a powerful play examining modern gender roles in rural India – both provocative and tragic. After the show, we wandered back to St. Giles where we were to meet our tour guide for a look at the underground city of Edinburgh, including, of course, some rousing ghost stories. We were saddened to hear that our tour guide crashed his car and that we’d be transferred to a later tour. What were we to do with this half hour of down time? But wait. It’s Edinburgh. And it’s Fringe season. So naturally, we turned the corner and there was a scrawny Scottish lad throwing fire around. He juggled machetes and fire while stolling over an Israeli man he’d picked from the crowd. I’m not too sure Mr. Israel enjoyed having fire flung over his face, but the crowd ate it up.

The post may be getting lengthy, but our ghost tour is worth retelling. Deborah, our gothic guide, drew us in with creepy tales of Edinburgh’s dark past. She began by recounting a tale of medieval torture that was prescribed to a rebellious Lord who attempted to take over the thrown. His punishment involved three days of public torture, including the reception of a scalding hot iron crown that melted his skull, to the shouts of a cheering and jeering mob. Creepy stuff. Then Deborah led us into the Vaults. Edinburgh actually has an entire underground city that was created as a second marketplace. It once held legitimate shop owners and craftsmen, but quickly disintegrated into a breeding ground for crime, prostitution, body snatching and murder. There were entire populations who lived underground and never saw the light of day. We saw abandoned wine cellars and tunnels where body snatchers took their dead to the hospital to receive payment. Deborah told stories of ghosts who still roam these vaults. There is Mr. Boots, the lonely cobbler who despised our company and was known to be the most hostile resident of the underground. There was little Johnny, the boy who people felt tugging on their hands and there was The Lady of the Corner, an evil spirit known to target women – especially pregnant ones – and impart on them severe back aches and fits of nausea. (Never mind that pregnant women are prone to sore backs and queasy stomachs…)

After a pleasant helping of ghost stories coupled with creepy historical tales, we exited the vaults, relieved to be back in the fresh air. One especially hysterical woman on our tour started complaining about her sore back to the two of us and seemed deeply offended when we laughed at her idea that it was caused by the Lady in the Corner. The tour concluded in Cannongate Cemetery, the supposed burial ground of Adam Smith and the trusted lover of Mary Queen of Scots. Here, Deborah told a final true story about the cannibal of Queensbury House, a haunting tale that deserves retelling…another time. What a thrilling and disturbing view of Edinburgh!

Our short but sweet pub crawl that night began at Mitre Bar where we drank Snake Bites and heard great Scottish music, including 500 Miles and Auld Lang Syne (whod’a thought that was Scottish!). We traveled to The Tron Bar for shots of Sambuca (a rather vile licorice liquor). With the Fringe in town, the young and Euro theater crowd was in full force, which made for some excellent people watching. It is with only slight embarrassment that we admit to making a second chips n’ cheese run that night. Devilish, but worth it.

Our final day began with a visit to the ½ price Fringe ticket office where we purchased tickets to an afternoon showing of On the Waterfront, the theatrical interpretation of the 1950’s Marlon Brando classic. The poor girl behind the counter had doubtlessly had a long day because instead of a 50% discount, the change she returned made for a 95% discount. We’d fueled the Scottish economy enough by this point that we didn’t feel too guilty about seeing the show for 1.25 pounds each!

We walked to the East end of town and saw the Parliament Building (with marvelous modern architecture) and Holyrood Palace, the Queen of England’s home during her Scottish visits. The weather gods blessed us with perfect temperatures to climb Arthur’s Seat, the lion-shaped mountain that rests at the end of the Royal Mountain. The top of the climb was steep, but well worth it as it warranted us a magnificent view of the city and the sea. We caught our breaths up top then sauntered back down to make our way to Pleasance Grand to see On the Waterfront. The show was brilliantly done, with creative staging and powerful acting.

Our final few hours were spent listening to bagpipes at the base of the Scottish Memorial, souvenir shopping on Princes Street and wandering aimlessly around New Town in search of a dinner spot. New Town had an entirely different feeling than Old and it was interesting to see the more modern buildings, shops and streets that juxtaposed the antiquity of Old Town. We wandered through Rose Street, Queen Street, George Street and the Queens Gardens before finding a B-quality dinner at Bar Napoli, an underground Italian spot. The food was nothing special but it filled us up for our flight home.

When we left Galway in June, we were anxious to get back to Dublin. When we left Edinburgh, we were seriously bummed. We agreed we could have easily lived in that magical city and had a lovely summer there too. In any case, we vowed to return to the land of castles, ghost stories, bagpipes and Haggis.

Now we’re back in Dublin until Thursday. As the summer comes to an end, friends slowly begin leaving the city for their homelands and we begin to get an itch for our own. Luckily we have two weeks of exciting travel before then, but it seems that our length of stay will be just enough. The Wessels arrive on Wednesday and we can’t wait for our time in Dublin, Wicklow and southern Ireland with them.

Until then, we leave you with an Irish blessing: “As you slide down the banister of life, may all of the splinters be pointing the right way.”

Slainte, luck and love,

Al and Mer

The Land of Luck

The Land of Luck

We are in shock. Although our flight to Philly doesn’t take off until September 3^rd, our various vacations mean that we only have 10 DAYS left in Dublin! Luckily, we’ve been making the most of this precious time. Instead of taking naps in between shifts, we try to meet up and explore areas of the city we’ve yet to see. Yesterday we took a quick trip to the Irish Memorial Garden at the top of O’Connell to catch up over hot chocolate, and today we got traditional fish & chips from Leo Burdocks and ate dinner on the lawn of Christ Church Cathedral. (Quick note: during one these excursions, a light blue Previa drove by! For all of you that don’t know, this is the beloved van of TFox, and has –dangerously – taken us all over the U.S. It made us so happy to see this little piece of home that we chased it for a few blocks to get a picture.)

The highlight of the week was Katie’s (Bergie’s) visit. She arrived late on Friday, and after a quick catch-up we went to bed to rest up for Saturday’s sightseeing. We took her to the Saturday food market in Temple Bar, and then we all got crepes at LemonJelly café. Unfortunately, Al had to go in to work, but Bergie began her sightseeing with the Dublin City Hop-on-Hop-off Tour. This bus takes visitors all over Dublin to about 30 must-see sights, including Trinity College, the Grand Post Office, The Kilmainham Jail, Saint Stephens Green, etc. Bergie didn’t waste time at those silly tourist places, though, she only got off at the Guinness Factory and stayed there for about four hours! After dinner at Blue Lounge and a drink at Dakota, Bergie and Al met up with Mer, Ben, and Louise (Mer’s friend from the restaurant) at Doyle’s to dance. The DJ rudely dismissed Al’s requests for Britney Spears and Madonna, but he was more than happy to play “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton for Bergie. Apparently this 80s song is still a favorite in London clubs, and we are now on a mission to bring this dance hit back to popularity in both Ireland and the U.S.! We braved the rain the next morning and toured around Trinity College and Grafton Street, a pedestrian hub with great shopping and cafes. Bergie trekked around the entire city (literally!) while Al had a short shift at The Body Shop, and afterwards they met up for dinner at Market Bar. Full from tapas and dessert (apple and rhubarb crumble, mmmm), Al and Bergie met up with Mer, Tom, and Javi (Mer’s manager) in Temple Bar and took it easy at The Auld Dubliner and The Foggy Dew. These are two traditional pubs with some of the best craic and “black stuff” around. Despite a totally dysfunctional blow-up mattress, Bergie got to sleep and was off to London by 4:30 AM! It was way too short of a trip… we miss you, Katie!

Eager for a change of pace from our usual pub routine, we planned a Poker Night with our group of friends. Without proper poker chips, we creatively brainstormed other options. Some top contenders were skittles or M&Ms, with the colors representing different denominations. Upon discovering how much these treats cost in Euros, we desperately contemplated using grains of rice! Ben came to the rescue, suggesting using real money. GENIUS! We counted and divided tons of coins, set out a smörgåsbord of snacks, refreshed our poker skills by reading Wikipedia articles on strategy (which were very helpful, Mark! wink, wink), and were ready to play! Texas Hold ‘Em was the game. Out of pure determination to break gender roles, Mer and Al took the play very seriously- it’s 2008, we obviously weren’t just there to provide snacks! To the boys’ shock, Mer dominated the first half of the game. A few of the boys went all-in and lost it, bringing the players down to Mer, Al, and Tom. Then just Al and Tom. And then, on the “river” of the last hand, Al got 4-of-a-kind and was declared champion! The prize, 25 Euro. Girl power! Even if Al hadn’t have won, the night was a success- delicious food, friendly competition, and amazing company of course.

Last night, Al invited all her co-workers over to our Vicar Street flat and then they went out on the town! Rachel, Larissa, and Saoirse are American/Irish, Australian, and Irish, respectively, but they are all long-time Dubliners and obviously showed Al a different side of the nightlife. They went to Sheheens first, a cozy bar that boasts couches instead of barstools, and walls jam-packed with artwork, mosaics, and mirrors. Then they went to Andrews Lane Theater, a theater-turned-club tucked away in a small side street, and danced to indie house music. It was a great night, and made us realize how lucky we are to work with such social and genuine people. It’s obvious now that we are both enjoying Dublin not despite working, but because of it! Working at La Med and The Body Shop has brought us so many good times with amazing people. We obviously love hanging out with just each other, but it’s the people that we’ve met on this adventure that make it such an incredible experience!

Although at the tail-end of the summer, we are still tickled by all the little nuances that differentiate American and Irish culture. Did you know that if you ask for the “bill” at a restaurant here you’ll get a blank stare? It’s a “check.” Irish people also love to say “pop.” For example, “I’ll just pop down to the loo,” “Pop over here a minute, will ye?”, or “Let me just pop this in me bag.” When asking questions, it’s worded in reverse. Instead of “Did you have fun at the movies?”, it’s “Have fun at the movies, did ye?”. And the word “would” is no longer conditional. “My mom visits Scotland a lot” is instead, “Me mum would visit Scotland much.” Forget the “th” sound, it’s just pronounced “t”. So if you think about it, “third” is now “turd.” We are getting used to it, but don’t judge us if we sound a little funny when we get back to the States.

Now then, we’ve gotta pop on outta here but we would be in touch after our Scotland holiday so check back in with us, could ye?

Miss you all!
Mer & Al

Oh the people you'll meet!

We have to begin with an enthusiastic shout out to HP Customer Service who in one week revived our sputtering computer back into its old useable self. That, combined with the internet connection we waited so many weeks for, has made us a wired flat once more. Hence the onslaught of new pics, which we were unable to upload due to the untranslatable blog directions on our Spanish roommates’ computer. Hooray for technology.

The past ten days have carried a theme that will likely ride out the rest of our month here in Dublin: work, play and the joy of visitors. Mer’s job became set in stone about a week ago and she’s been working quite a bit. She enjoys good tips and works most nights until 12:30 or 1:00, at which point she meets Al and friends at a nearby pub to catch up on that day’s happenings. Though our schedules are still as different as could be, we treasure our late nights and lazy mornings together, where we gossip for hours over cornflakes and vanilla yogurt.

We’re in the middle of a wave of visitors, each of whom bring us great entertainment. Last weekend we had Drew, a friend of Jen Wessel’s from college, meet up with us. He was a fascinating guy and great fun to have around. He and Al enjoyed a scrumptious meal of tapas and the three of us had two raucous evenings in the pubs, one of which included three Irish girls falling in love with Drew, announcing that Mer was their “new favorite American” and introducing us to several rounds of God-knows-what Irish drinks.

On Monday, Elek arrived, who was the first person we met in Dublin during our stay at the hostel way back in mid-June. Elek hails from L.A. and spent the past six weeks crisscrossing Europe. We were thrilled to have him back and hear his tales. He was equally thrilled to crash with some friendly faces, as travelling alone for so long can leave one feeling a bit lonely. In addition to some food, talks and wandering around the city, we also had an adventure trying to see Dark Knight with he and Tom, our friend from Australia. Upon arriving at the theater, we were shocked to see Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider had decided to throw their own party and have a highly dramatic premiere of their new movie Zohan. They had the nerve to block the entrance to our movie with a big obnoxious red carpet, lots of cameras, cheesy smiles and autographs. Maybe we were bitter that they prevented our entrance, but those dudes were not looking so hot. We settled on seeing Baby Mama at a different movie theater, but every slight downer for the rest of the night was blamed on “Damn Rob Schneider.” Perhaps you had to be there to sympathize with our agony.

Tomorrow Bergie arrives! She is one of Emily Wessel’s friends from NU who is now living in London and is coming to spend a three-day weekend with us. It should be epic. After that, Kevin Westerwick and Dustin Nirschel, two old friends from Mer’s high school days, will be hitting up Dublin for about a week. We can’t wait for all of these reunions!

Our new roommates are still awkward as ever. Pepe spends his days running computer programs on the patterns of survival for blackbirds while Sandra goes to English school. When they’re around the flat, they don’t say much of anything to us, in English or in Spanish. There is nothing offensive about them, so we’ve settled on a peaceful coexistence, albeit not a camaraderie. Makes us miss good ol’ Gionni.

It seems like every week we learn something new here. We learn how to file a tax form, or how Czech people of our generation view Slovaks. We learn how Austrians organize their school systems and how oranges from the market go rotten more quickly than oranges from the grocery store. It’s thrilling to live in such a stimulating culture. One thing that embellishes it most is the coming-and-going nature of Dublin. This city is full of wanderers like ourselves who are here for a year, a summer, a week. Every time you meet a new person, you assume they will be in your life for a limited amount of time. Very few people stay. Some of our peers find this frustrating, but we’ve decided it’s fascinating. People come and go in and out of our lives every week. Mer became close with a coworker from Brazil who one week later quit and flew away to Italy. When working at Dobbins, Al met a fabulously flamboyant man from London whose stay in Dublin expired a couple of weeks later. Our friend Ben is flying away on August 13^th and our friend Louise is going home to Holland on the 6^th. It’s tough to build lasting friendships in this whirlwind of travels so instead, you try to embrace each relationship while you have it and then hope that your paths cross again. Having both lived in basically the same place all through childhood, this is a different culture for us, but one that has certainly challenged and intrigued us.

Enough with the introspective nonsense. Here are loads of new pics to laugh and smile at. Rest assured that we’re in the right place and happy as can be. We miss you all and think about you often.

Slainte,

Al and Mer

Travels with the Laitos Clan

We’re back from our Northern Ireland adventure with so much to talk about! The beautiful coast of N. Ireland was a great break from the city life of Dublin, and any homesickness we were feeling was quickly healed thanks to the company of Mer’s parents this past week.
Mark and Julie had been touring Ireland for a week when they arrived in Dublin and got a glimpse of our summer lives. The first stop was our Thomas Street flat. The high ceilings, funky decorations, and our roommate Gionathon won them over just as they did for us. Mer, Mark, and Julie went to the oldest pub in Ireland (established in 1198!), The Brazen Head, for dinner and storytelling, and then met up with Al at the Auld Dubliner for some traditional Irish music and pints of Guinness. While “the black stuff” was delicious that night, it didn’t come close to the fresh pints we received the next day while touring the Guinness Storehouse. At one time a functioning factory, the pint glass-shaped building now tells of the history, production, and distribution of Guinness as it winds up to the “Gravity Bar,” where every visitor gets a complimentary pint of Guinness and 360-degree views of the Dublin. With some batting of the eyelashes at various bartenders, we also received two huge stacks of Guinness coasters. A week later, Mark found a discarded Guinness pint glass on a dock which was in perfect shape. Apparently we’ve mastered this free souvenir thing!
Mer and her parents visited the famous Kilmanheim Jail and then coasted up to Belfast with Mark driving on the right side for the first time. Meanwhile, Al took a short bus ride (which felt like a lifetime due to the lack of AC) to Belfast, where she reunited with the Laitoses to begin the journey along the Antrim Coast of Northern Ireland. What a gorgeous area of the world! The windy drive took us to various scenic areas overlooking cliffs, crashing waves, Scotland, and lonely rock islands. The dramatic sights easily rivaled the Cliffs of Moher in beauty, and we began to understand why they call the Northern Ireland coast the 8th Wonder of the World. We took a hike down to a dramatic waterfall in the Antrim Mountains, and explored the areas of Torr Head, Murloch Bay, and Fair Head, which we got to by trekking through a private sheep farm!
No trip to Northern Ireland is complete without a trip to the Carrick-a-Reede Bridge and the Giant’s Causeway. The Carrick-a-Reede is a rope bridge connecting a cliff to a small island about 20 yards away. It was a really blustery day, and needless to say the bridge was a little scary to walk across! Mer got a good laugh at Al as she waddled her way across very slowly saying “Isn’t this scary? Don’t you think this is scary? It’s kinda windy. I’m a little scared. Are you scared? I’m a little scared” over and over again. The view from the island was worth the fear, and we spent an hour or so taking pictures and videos and napping on the plush grass. We probably wouldn’t have stayed as long, but an English soccer team arrived and further enhanced the view.
The Giant’s Causeway was next: an area of impressive rock formations said to be formed when the Irish giant, Finn McCool, built a road across the sea to fight his rival giant in Scotland. It resulted in interlocking hexagonal stones along the coast, rising in dramatic columns. After all the sightseeing, B&Bs in Carrickfergus and Coleraine provided great beds, cute atmosphere, and delicious breakfast for the tired travelers.
Our last stop before heading back to Dublin was the city of Derry, the only completely walled city left in the British Isles. What the four of us thought would be just a nice medieval town turned out to be the highlight of our whole Northern Ireland excursion! We took two walking tours to learn about all of the city’s rich history from the 105-day siege in the 1600s, which failed to penetrate the city’s walls (giving the city one of its many nicknames, “The Maiden City”), to the more recent Bloody Sunday in the 70s. Derry, or Londonderry if you’re a loyalist to the British Crown, also boasts cobblestone streets, great shopping, cute restaurants, and plenty of pubs. We were definitely sad to leave.
Before Mer and Al resumed their summers in Dublin and Mark and Julie returned to the States, we had one last night in Skerries, a seaside town near Dublin. We found great “craic” (pronounced “crack,” it’s basically Irish for a good time and fun environment) at a local pub/restaurant called “Stoop Your Head” and walked along the town’s beautiful quays. A great last night to our family vacation!

Back in Dublin, we hosted a going-away barbeque for Gionathon. Sadly he left for Italy for a month and is arriving back to our flat only two days after we’ll be back to the States! We’ll definitely miss Gion’s friendship, not to mention his authentic Italian cooking. The flat didn’t feel empty for long, though – two new roommates moved in the next night! Sandra and Pepe are from Valencia, Spain. Pepe will be working on PhD research while Sandra takes English classes (quite a challenge considering it’s a stretch to call what the Irish speak, English.) While we haven’t forged strong friendships with them yet, Al is at least being cured of her involuntary vegetarianism thanks to copious amounts of Spanish chorizo that Pepe brought from home.

A sunny streak of about 3 days have Mer and Al really excited about the coming weeks, which feature visits from Drew, Elek, and BERGIE!!!

Miss you all.
Slainte!
Al & Mer