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!