The good:
- We are heading to catch a train to Belfast in about 15 minutes!
- We'll see KATIE tonight!
- We have cava & orange juice and Irish bread for the train.
- Did I mention we were taking a train? Yeah.
- Huzzah for Giant's Causeway, Derry, Black Cab Tours & the whiskey distillery!
- Also I got a letter today & they make everything better (& no, you might not have enough time for another one, though you should expect one in Seattle when you get home).
The bad:
- Diane did more swingy choreography last night & we all hurt like hell.
- I am rapidly running out of socks. I really can't explain it.
- Belfasting this weekend means seriously less time to write the papers that I hate. Blech.
- I am feeling stupid over little things.
The ugly:
- Um. Mostly the socks. I'm running out of socks.
- Also the weather. But what can you do.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Farmer's Market / Kilmainham / Rainbows!
So, this week...& last week. First I'll just start with a picture of the upside of all this rain we've been getting: what happens when it stops.
On Friday night, Cozy, Kate & I went to Devitt's, for the live music sessions & to hang out & chat. We got drinks and sat near the bar & the musicians. A guy came up to us, started chatting--mostly, he said, to get away from the frightening drunk women at the other end of the bar. He was from Melbourne, & was in the middle of a long backpacking trip (headed to Russia at the end of the weekend). So we all talked for a couple hours, about traveling & Ireland & Americans. Apparently we were the best Americans he'd met so far, since too many of them were like the other US'ers in the bar that night--a pack of boys in matching shirts, with one tarty blonde girl all over one of the boys. I mean, they were entertaining, sure, but there's some days I really wish I lived two hours north of where I do. Oh, to be Canadian. Still, Devitt's was a blast, we had a good time having the craic (as they say) with the Australian electrician, & the fab live music:
Saturday a pack of us (Cozy, Kate, Meghan, Lee, & I) went to the farmer's market in Temple Bar. Oh, the glory of real food! It was amazing, especially the fresh hot apple cider that we bought. Mmm.
After the market, Cozy, Kate & I worked our way up toward Parnell Square via many small shops & interesting byways, to get to the Dublin Writer's Museum:
Mostly it was just readable information, though it had a good audio tour, & lots of objects like so & so's pen or first editions of books, etc. Upstairs there was a gorgeous library:
Sunday, Kate & Cozy & I (we were the culture team for this weekend, apparently) made our way to Kilmainham Gaol. I'm not really going to be able to give you all the history I'd like; suffice to say it was where all the leaders of the 1916 Easter Uprising were held, as well as many political prisoners from the War of Independence and the Civil War. It fell into disuse after that, and it wasn't until the 1940's that a group of volunteers stepped in to maintain it as an historical landmark (now it's under the care of the office of public works).
See those two lighter stones? That's where the gallows used to be. Huzzah for public hangings.
Passageway in the older part of the jail, the Georgian Wing.
Inside of a cell.
Old graffiti above a doorway: "Beware the Risen People that have harried and held, ye that have bullied and bribed."
Now, into the newer portion, the Victorian area, or the East Wing. The architecture is gorgeous.
One of the more bittersweet stories from Kilmainham is the marriage of Joseph Plunkett & Grace Gifford. They were engaged before the Uprising, and Joseph was brought into jail. The night before he was scheduled to be executed, they brought Grace to the jail at Joeseph's request, & they were married in the chapel there. They weren't allowed to speak except to exchange wedding vows, and after the ceremony Grace was escorted back home and Joesph was brought back to his cell. In the wee hours of the morning Grace was awoken and brought back to Kilmainham, for a last ten minutes, in the presence of two guards, with her husband. After that, Grace was sent away & Joseph was brought outside to the yard and shot.
A few years later Grace was held (in the new wing) as a political prisoner during the civil war. She painted a mural in her cell:
And finally, the stonebreaker's yard, where all the executions took place:
Now it is back to classes, and writing papers & all that jazz. I'm coming home in less than three weeks. Yikes.
On Friday night, Cozy, Kate & I went to Devitt's, for the live music sessions & to hang out & chat. We got drinks and sat near the bar & the musicians. A guy came up to us, started chatting--mostly, he said, to get away from the frightening drunk women at the other end of the bar. He was from Melbourne, & was in the middle of a long backpacking trip (headed to Russia at the end of the weekend). So we all talked for a couple hours, about traveling & Ireland & Americans. Apparently we were the best Americans he'd met so far, since too many of them were like the other US'ers in the bar that night--a pack of boys in matching shirts, with one tarty blonde girl all over one of the boys. I mean, they were entertaining, sure, but there's some days I really wish I lived two hours north of where I do. Oh, to be Canadian. Still, Devitt's was a blast, we had a good time having the craic (as they say) with the Australian electrician, & the fab live music:
Saturday a pack of us (Cozy, Kate, Meghan, Lee, & I) went to the farmer's market in Temple Bar. Oh, the glory of real food! It was amazing, especially the fresh hot apple cider that we bought. Mmm.
After the market, Cozy, Kate & I worked our way up toward Parnell Square via many small shops & interesting byways, to get to the Dublin Writer's Museum:
Mostly it was just readable information, though it had a good audio tour, & lots of objects like so & so's pen or first editions of books, etc. Upstairs there was a gorgeous library:
Sunday, Kate & Cozy & I (we were the culture team for this weekend, apparently) made our way to Kilmainham Gaol. I'm not really going to be able to give you all the history I'd like; suffice to say it was where all the leaders of the 1916 Easter Uprising were held, as well as many political prisoners from the War of Independence and the Civil War. It fell into disuse after that, and it wasn't until the 1940's that a group of volunteers stepped in to maintain it as an historical landmark (now it's under the care of the office of public works).
See those two lighter stones? That's where the gallows used to be. Huzzah for public hangings.
Passageway in the older part of the jail, the Georgian Wing.
Inside of a cell.
Old graffiti above a doorway: "Beware the Risen People that have harried and held, ye that have bullied and bribed."
Now, into the newer portion, the Victorian area, or the East Wing. The architecture is gorgeous.
One of the more bittersweet stories from Kilmainham is the marriage of Joseph Plunkett & Grace Gifford. They were engaged before the Uprising, and Joseph was brought into jail. The night before he was scheduled to be executed, they brought Grace to the jail at Joeseph's request, & they were married in the chapel there. They weren't allowed to speak except to exchange wedding vows, and after the ceremony Grace was escorted back home and Joesph was brought back to his cell. In the wee hours of the morning Grace was awoken and brought back to Kilmainham, for a last ten minutes, in the presence of two guards, with her husband. After that, Grace was sent away & Joseph was brought outside to the yard and shot.
A few years later Grace was held (in the new wing) as a political prisoner during the civil war. She painted a mural in her cell:
And finally, the stonebreaker's yard, where all the executions took place:
Now it is back to classes, and writing papers & all that jazz. I'm coming home in less than three weeks. Yikes.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving & other things
Happy belated Thanksgiving to all you Statesers! IES took us all out to a dinner at a fancy restaurant yesterday evening...I guess they gave a traditional Thanksgiving menu to the restaurant to see if they could recreate it for us, but it really didn't work at all. It was sort of sadly & not very tasty, really. But if it's the thought that counts, then it was lovely & very nice of them to set the whole thing up anyway.
The night before was our real Thanksgiving-like Thanksgiving: all the theater kids, plus a couple extra (Charlotte, our french flatmate, & John, Lee's boy) all gathered in one of the Leeson St apartments & we all brought various kinds of food. There was cold-cut meats & dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes & sweet potatoes, mac & cheese, green beans, apple pie, pecan pie, fruit salad, I can't remember it all. It was fantastic, & loud & crazy & we all ate a LOT, & then played Mafia a couple times. That was really like Thanksgiving.
I realized that I haven't written in here at all about the plays I've been seeing, since I've mostly been posting photo-elaborated adventures. Well, I'm sorry about that... I won't try to catch up on any ones before, but I will mention that on Tuesday we saw "Improbable Frequency" which is a hilarious musical satire, written almost entirely in rhyming verse, about Ireland's neutrality during WWII. I know, that sounds weird--but it was so funny! Full of bad puns, overflowing with wordplay, with spies and mad scientists and costume changes (& character changes) every thirty seconds. It was fantastic. I'm glad I liked it, because I have to write a review/performance analysis for class about it (although it might be easier to critique a play I hated...). I'm not really thrilled about writing papers; the next batch is coming up soon. Oh well. I'll get through them.
This weekend will be spent in Dublin, but hopefully with some interesting things going on, so I might post a bit later on. But next weekend a whole passel of us is going up to see Belfast, Giant's Causeway, & Derry! I'm very excited to see Northern Ireland.... so expect photos & adventures from that!
Right. Back to my paper...
The night before was our real Thanksgiving-like Thanksgiving: all the theater kids, plus a couple extra (Charlotte, our french flatmate, & John, Lee's boy) all gathered in one of the Leeson St apartments & we all brought various kinds of food. There was cold-cut meats & dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes & sweet potatoes, mac & cheese, green beans, apple pie, pecan pie, fruit salad, I can't remember it all. It was fantastic, & loud & crazy & we all ate a LOT, & then played Mafia a couple times. That was really like Thanksgiving.
I realized that I haven't written in here at all about the plays I've been seeing, since I've mostly been posting photo-elaborated adventures. Well, I'm sorry about that... I won't try to catch up on any ones before, but I will mention that on Tuesday we saw "Improbable Frequency" which is a hilarious musical satire, written almost entirely in rhyming verse, about Ireland's neutrality during WWII. I know, that sounds weird--but it was so funny! Full of bad puns, overflowing with wordplay, with spies and mad scientists and costume changes (& character changes) every thirty seconds. It was fantastic. I'm glad I liked it, because I have to write a review/performance analysis for class about it (although it might be easier to critique a play I hated...). I'm not really thrilled about writing papers; the next batch is coming up soon. Oh well. I'll get through them.
This weekend will be spent in Dublin, but hopefully with some interesting things going on, so I might post a bit later on. But next weekend a whole passel of us is going up to see Belfast, Giant's Causeway, & Derry! I'm very excited to see Northern Ireland.... so expect photos & adventures from that!
Right. Back to my paper...
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Newgrange, Tara, Bray...
This weekend was cold, wet, blustery and very much turning toward winter. That didn't exactly stop us from doing anything, however...I & some others managed to get out of Dublin on both days. Saturday Cozy, Lee & I woke up early (again) and met a tour bus at the hotel near our apartments. The tour was led by Mary, a chatty & friendly guide, & took us & a bunch of others up to Newgrange, telling us all the while about the history of Ireland, from the Stone Age until now. We wandered the visitor centre for a few minutes, then took the shuttle bus up to the actual site of Newgrange Passage Tomb:
It's a mound covering about an acre, with a small passage leading into a chamber with three recesses off it. Cremated bones were placed in the recesses.
(The entrance.)
If you look above the doorway, the other opening is called the roofbox. On the winter solstice (& the two days before and after it), the rising sun shines in exactly through that opening, down the passage & into the chamber, lighting it all up. They gave us a simulation...we were all standing in the dark of a chamber built half a century before the pyramids--and unchanged since then--when light starts creeping down the passageway, and the room gets slowly bright. It's hard, artificial light, not real golden sunlight, but it's still breathtaking.
And this is what you see when you step outside & look across the valley:
There's some incredible mesolithic (I think) art on some of the stones around the edge of the tomb:
No one knows exactly what they mean; one theory is that it's hallucinogneic art, another that it's astronomical and mathematical symbols. Real answer? No one has a clue.
It was cold, and starting to rain, so we headed back down to the visitor centre to get a cup of tea and finish looking at the museum on the Boyne valley (where all these passage tombs are located).
Then it was back on the bus, driving up toward the Hill of Tara.
This church, and adjoining graveyard, is the entrance to the fenced area at the top of the Hill. We had to climb through a gap in that wall there, since the visitor center closes for the winter, into a graveyard:
And out onto the Hill of Tara:
The hill is where the ancient kings of Ireland used to live, and where the center of it all was before Christianity really took hold of the island. When the celts came to Ireland they split it up into four areas (Ulster, Munster, Leinster and Connaght, I believe), and each of those had a king; those four kings elected a High King, who was crowned at Tara and lived at Tara. Nowadays Tara is mostly just a hill; there are mounds and lumps everywhere that signify archeological potential, best seen from the air. They do have a mound:
The best thing about Tara is something we couldn't do, because it was overcast and rainy and nasty. On a clear day, though, if you stand at the very top of Tara, you can see two thirds of Ireland. Just think about that.
We came down off the hill in search of somewhere dry. There is a coffeeshop and giftshop that we poked about in, but the real treasure was the bookshop next door:
We spent plenty of time there, especially in one corner that was filled with old, old books. I found a copy of the Decameron, and one of the Rubiyat, both old and gorgeous.
Saturday night a bunch of us went out to Ri Ra, a club. I'll see if I can sum it up: Music so loud my ears rang when I got home; really bad music downstairs until we moved up to the upstairs bar, where better, soul, reggae stuff was playing; bald Scottish people (well, one) who don't understand body language (for the record, if I've got my arms crossed, don't look relaxed, am literally leaning at an angle away from you, and refuse to look you in the face, there's a good chance I don't want to be talking to you); fantastic dancing from all my friends, including dance impressions of some of our teachers; a hilarious DJ upstairs who rocked out to all his tunes and looked like a more hippie version of my dentist; French kids dancing on the stairs; singing along; feet hurting & promising never to wear those shoes again; coming home at three.
Today we slept in (so wonderful!). We caught the train to Bray, which is along the coast, south of Dun Laoghaire. It was grey, like yesterday, & it started raining a bit while we were on the train, but we were determined to get to a beach nontheless. When we got into Bray we found the main town, and then sheltered in Molloy's to eat lunch away from the torrential downpour outside.
The rain finally let up a little, and we made our way to the beach, past some lovely old buildings:
I will miss buildings this old when I'm back in the states.
So it was cold, very cold; and wet, and blustery; but there was a beach, and it was gorgeous.
It wasn't unlike beaches back home: rocky, gray, wet. Beautiful.
Kate, Nora, and Charlotte stopping the waves:
And me, running from them:
And we arrived back in Dublin, on Grafton street, just in time for the Christmas lights to be turned on, making Grafton street full of, as they say, cheer:
It's a mound covering about an acre, with a small passage leading into a chamber with three recesses off it. Cremated bones were placed in the recesses.
(The entrance.)
If you look above the doorway, the other opening is called the roofbox. On the winter solstice (& the two days before and after it), the rising sun shines in exactly through that opening, down the passage & into the chamber, lighting it all up. They gave us a simulation...we were all standing in the dark of a chamber built half a century before the pyramids--and unchanged since then--when light starts creeping down the passageway, and the room gets slowly bright. It's hard, artificial light, not real golden sunlight, but it's still breathtaking.
And this is what you see when you step outside & look across the valley:
There's some incredible mesolithic (I think) art on some of the stones around the edge of the tomb:
No one knows exactly what they mean; one theory is that it's hallucinogneic art, another that it's astronomical and mathematical symbols. Real answer? No one has a clue.
It was cold, and starting to rain, so we headed back down to the visitor centre to get a cup of tea and finish looking at the museum on the Boyne valley (where all these passage tombs are located).
Then it was back on the bus, driving up toward the Hill of Tara.
This church, and adjoining graveyard, is the entrance to the fenced area at the top of the Hill. We had to climb through a gap in that wall there, since the visitor center closes for the winter, into a graveyard:
And out onto the Hill of Tara:
The hill is where the ancient kings of Ireland used to live, and where the center of it all was before Christianity really took hold of the island. When the celts came to Ireland they split it up into four areas (Ulster, Munster, Leinster and Connaght, I believe), and each of those had a king; those four kings elected a High King, who was crowned at Tara and lived at Tara. Nowadays Tara is mostly just a hill; there are mounds and lumps everywhere that signify archeological potential, best seen from the air. They do have a mound:
The best thing about Tara is something we couldn't do, because it was overcast and rainy and nasty. On a clear day, though, if you stand at the very top of Tara, you can see two thirds of Ireland. Just think about that.
We came down off the hill in search of somewhere dry. There is a coffeeshop and giftshop that we poked about in, but the real treasure was the bookshop next door:
We spent plenty of time there, especially in one corner that was filled with old, old books. I found a copy of the Decameron, and one of the Rubiyat, both old and gorgeous.
Saturday night a bunch of us went out to Ri Ra, a club. I'll see if I can sum it up: Music so loud my ears rang when I got home; really bad music downstairs until we moved up to the upstairs bar, where better, soul, reggae stuff was playing; bald Scottish people (well, one) who don't understand body language (for the record, if I've got my arms crossed, don't look relaxed, am literally leaning at an angle away from you, and refuse to look you in the face, there's a good chance I don't want to be talking to you); fantastic dancing from all my friends, including dance impressions of some of our teachers; a hilarious DJ upstairs who rocked out to all his tunes and looked like a more hippie version of my dentist; French kids dancing on the stairs; singing along; feet hurting & promising never to wear those shoes again; coming home at three.
Today we slept in (so wonderful!). We caught the train to Bray, which is along the coast, south of Dun Laoghaire. It was grey, like yesterday, & it started raining a bit while we were on the train, but we were determined to get to a beach nontheless. When we got into Bray we found the main town, and then sheltered in Molloy's to eat lunch away from the torrential downpour outside.
The rain finally let up a little, and we made our way to the beach, past some lovely old buildings:
I will miss buildings this old when I'm back in the states.
So it was cold, very cold; and wet, and blustery; but there was a beach, and it was gorgeous.
It wasn't unlike beaches back home: rocky, gray, wet. Beautiful.
Kate, Nora, and Charlotte stopping the waves:
And me, running from them:
And we arrived back in Dublin, on Grafton street, just in time for the Christmas lights to be turned on, making Grafton street full of, as they say, cheer:
Joel in Dublin, part two: Malahide!
I feel a little silly writing this, since Joel already wrote it up quite well, and since it's weird now to post about my adventures without adding photos. I'll probably edit this later to put in some of his photos (I have none from the last couple days of the trip), but before I get too far ahead in other posts, here's Malahide:
On Sunday, we took the DART up north to Malahide, which consists of a tiny village, a lot of suburban-style (but Irish) sprawl, and a castle. (Yes, a castle. It's fantastic.) We got off the DART into a train station that looked like a run-down Victorian train depot. There was a sort-of map of the village and castle demesne on the wall, which was utterly confusing; I tried to trust my sense of direction instead, which was a total failure. We ended up wandering Malahide for a while, which was fine as it got us introduced to the town. It's small and cute and takes about five minutes to cross it; mostly it consists of pubs and restaurants and a few other stores, plus a Starbucks near the water. (Everywhere I go...) We asked for directions to the castle, which we found by walking out the other way; once we'd walked around two sides of the castle grounds and had no idea where the B&B was, I called the proprietor to ask how to get there. "Oh, you just go to the Grand Hotel and I'll meet you there," she says, all friendly, on the phone. "Where's the Grand Hotel?" I ask. "It's in Malahide," she tells me, "It's big. It's got a fountain in the front. ...everyone knows it!" (This, ladies and gentlemen, is the art of giving directions in Ireland: you must end them always with either "everyone knows it" or "you can't miss it.")
So we walk all the way back to the village, and find the Grand Hotel: it is indeed big, and does have a fountain. I call Olive again, and she comes to pick us up, driving back through the houses outside Malahide and chatting away about Chicago and about Malahide and numerous other things. She was very sweet, in the most honest use of the word, and very friendly; she kept making offers that would get rescinded in favor of our comfort: "Do you want tea? Or coffee? There's instant but I can make a pot, no trouble--oh, nevermind, don't answer yet, you're just in the door!" Or, "I'll draw you a map to the village, and how to get through the castle--oh, but not now, you'll want to rest awhile." And so forth.
We did get the map, and set off through the castle grounds toward the village. Malahide Demesne has huge perfectly kept lawns, blindingly green and very vast. (Games of Capture the Flag were discussed with enthusiasm.) We explored around the outside of the castle, but bypassed the tour inside in favor of the best playground I have ever seen in my life, all kinds of swings and things to climb on and kids everywhere.
We found our way through the grounds to the village again, where we walked along the water and investigated dinner menus. We ended up eating at a lovely little cafe which I can't remember the name of: bruchetta with the smoothest pesto I've ever eaten, salmon & lamb all flaky and delicious, and berry cheesecake with a nutty crust and cream. (I still think about that cheesecake. Guh.) I had to spent about twenty minutes just lying down & doing nothing after we got back, I was so full. It was really good.
Monday morning we ate breakfast at the B&B, and found our way back to the train to Dublin, and then to the bus stop on O'Connell, where we waited for the bus to the airport. All I'll say is that I was very proud of myself for not pretending to get lost to keep him in the country (although I know that missing airplanes wouldn't be practical, not really). All told we got a good deal of things into a few days in Ireland, and it was amazingly fun. And that really doesn't do it justice, but nothing will...so I'll stop here, and go make dinner. Over and out, ladies and gentlemen.
On Sunday, we took the DART up north to Malahide, which consists of a tiny village, a lot of suburban-style (but Irish) sprawl, and a castle. (Yes, a castle. It's fantastic.) We got off the DART into a train station that looked like a run-down Victorian train depot. There was a sort-of map of the village and castle demesne on the wall, which was utterly confusing; I tried to trust my sense of direction instead, which was a total failure. We ended up wandering Malahide for a while, which was fine as it got us introduced to the town. It's small and cute and takes about five minutes to cross it; mostly it consists of pubs and restaurants and a few other stores, plus a Starbucks near the water. (Everywhere I go...) We asked for directions to the castle, which we found by walking out the other way; once we'd walked around two sides of the castle grounds and had no idea where the B&B was, I called the proprietor to ask how to get there. "Oh, you just go to the Grand Hotel and I'll meet you there," she says, all friendly, on the phone. "Where's the Grand Hotel?" I ask. "It's in Malahide," she tells me, "It's big. It's got a fountain in the front. ...everyone knows it!" (This, ladies and gentlemen, is the art of giving directions in Ireland: you must end them always with either "everyone knows it" or "you can't miss it.")
So we walk all the way back to the village, and find the Grand Hotel: it is indeed big, and does have a fountain. I call Olive again, and she comes to pick us up, driving back through the houses outside Malahide and chatting away about Chicago and about Malahide and numerous other things. She was very sweet, in the most honest use of the word, and very friendly; she kept making offers that would get rescinded in favor of our comfort: "Do you want tea? Or coffee? There's instant but I can make a pot, no trouble--oh, nevermind, don't answer yet, you're just in the door!" Or, "I'll draw you a map to the village, and how to get through the castle--oh, but not now, you'll want to rest awhile." And so forth.
We did get the map, and set off through the castle grounds toward the village. Malahide Demesne has huge perfectly kept lawns, blindingly green and very vast. (Games of Capture the Flag were discussed with enthusiasm.) We explored around the outside of the castle, but bypassed the tour inside in favor of the best playground I have ever seen in my life, all kinds of swings and things to climb on and kids everywhere.
We found our way through the grounds to the village again, where we walked along the water and investigated dinner menus. We ended up eating at a lovely little cafe which I can't remember the name of: bruchetta with the smoothest pesto I've ever eaten, salmon & lamb all flaky and delicious, and berry cheesecake with a nutty crust and cream. (I still think about that cheesecake. Guh.) I had to spent about twenty minutes just lying down & doing nothing after we got back, I was so full. It was really good.
Monday morning we ate breakfast at the B&B, and found our way back to the train to Dublin, and then to the bus stop on O'Connell, where we waited for the bus to the airport. All I'll say is that I was very proud of myself for not pretending to get lost to keep him in the country (although I know that missing airplanes wouldn't be practical, not really). All told we got a good deal of things into a few days in Ireland, and it was amazingly fun. And that really doesn't do it justice, but nothing will...so I'll stop here, and go make dinner. Over and out, ladies and gentlemen.
Friday, November 16, 2007
a post without pictures and not about anything special!
-Poetry class. Actually called Voice Class, but it really is Cathal introducing us to loads of Irish poetry, which we all then read aloud in various ways, with various things to think about / play / people to talk to etc. Since this is one of the integrated Gaiety classes we're not actually working toward a goal, which makes the class literally pointless, although sometimes enjoyable nonetheless. Today, reading a poem which potentially contained sheep-shagging, we were required to have a partner, and switch off reading verses with them, while one chased the other as farmer and sheep. You think I'm kidding? I'm not. Baaaaaaa! Oh, Cathal...there will never be another teacher quite like you. I was far less disturbed than I expected to be, given the horror stories from the IES kids who had to do this on Monday; mostly I laughed a lot at it & now enjoy the fact that I can say I attended a poetry class about sheep-fucking.
- Movies. Cozy, Nora, Kate, Lee, Meghan & I went to see American Gangster at the enormous movie complex in Parnell Square. The movie was actually really good: violent, though, & I winced a lot; but the cast was on the whole quite good (it has Denzel, people, how can it go wrong? Plus Chiwetel Ejiofor, Russell Crowe, Cuba Gooding Jr & a host of others) and the story was engaging. Also: gangsters. Need I say more.
Then we stayed in the theater & saw another movie, for free. I feel so illegal. It was The Jane Austen Book Club and was totally unremarkable, so that's all I'll say. We were at the theater from noon until five-ten. Yes.
- Le Office. I came home, fought with my internet & talked to Joel for a few minutes while I made rice, reheated leftover Thai curry (may possibly be better the second night? Cannot tell, will do more experiments), and then sat on the couch with Kate & watched about four episodes of The Office and knit.
So...not a bad day, actually. A lot of just sitting about and doing nothing, which is exactly what I wanted. Tomorrow is Newgrange, for which I am getting up appallingly early. Again. (When do I ever get to sleep in?). Sunday is Bray!
- Movies. Cozy, Nora, Kate, Lee, Meghan & I went to see American Gangster at the enormous movie complex in Parnell Square. The movie was actually really good: violent, though, & I winced a lot; but the cast was on the whole quite good (it has Denzel, people, how can it go wrong? Plus Chiwetel Ejiofor, Russell Crowe, Cuba Gooding Jr & a host of others) and the story was engaging. Also: gangsters. Need I say more.
Then we stayed in the theater & saw another movie, for free. I feel so illegal. It was The Jane Austen Book Club and was totally unremarkable, so that's all I'll say. We were at the theater from noon until five-ten. Yes.
- Le Office. I came home, fought with my internet & talked to Joel for a few minutes while I made rice, reheated leftover Thai curry (may possibly be better the second night? Cannot tell, will do more experiments), and then sat on the couch with Kate & watched about four episodes of The Office and knit.
So...not a bad day, actually. A lot of just sitting about and doing nothing, which is exactly what I wanted. Tomorrow is Newgrange, for which I am getting up appallingly early. Again. (When do I ever get to sleep in?). Sunday is Bray!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A visitor from overseas
And this, ladies & gentlemen, was my weekend:
Actually, nearly my whole week. Joel arrived on Wednesday morning, and I had to wait through voice class before I could go meet him. I swear those were the longest three hours of my life! But I got through them somehow, and met Joel on the bridge over the canal, and finally, finally got to see him. Words are really not enough to describe this week, and how wonderful it was to see Joel again. This post will probably just be lots of events, and totally inadequate as to what I felt, but if I go off babbling, forgive me. Wednesday night was fajita night at Cozy's, where I dragged Joel to meet everyone, and where I pretty much failed as a girlfriend because I couldn't for the life of me remember who I'd introduced or hadn't and ended up not managing to do that social thing very well. But he handled my social idiocy well and it was really fun to hang out with all the theater kids and have him there as well. Also the fajitas were really tasty.
Thursday morning was class-free, so we decided to poke around a few museums. We were exploring St Stephen's Green when it began to mist at us, but since we're Seattleites, that's nothing we can't handle. The downpour two minutes later, however, was something slightly different. It caught us just outside the park, and by the time we found shelter on Kildare street we were dripping with rain. The Archeology Museum was just next door, so we stopped in there--it was warm, and dry, and historically fun! We wanted to leave our coats and bags but I wasn't sure if the cloakroom was free, so I went to ask. "Are you students?" the attendant asked, and when we admitted we were he added, "that's a typical student question." Oh, college students: the same the world over.
Thursday night was Thai Takeout Thursday, which put me & Joel & Katie V into a food coma. Joel & I had talked about going salsa dancing, but the place isn't terrific and I was pretty much unable to get up from the couch, so instead we just flopped together for a while & talked to my roommates and I eventually managed to get up and pack for Friday.
Our first outside-Dublin trip was up to Glendalough. We caught the bus after my early class, armed with lunches and hot chocolate & a scone for me. After riding all the way to Glendalough, we realized that we should have gotten off the bus in Laragh, just a kilometer back on the road. So we hitched a ride back on the next bus toward Dublin, and we found our B&B down a small lane past the main road. After leaving our things in the room (small & cozy & ridiculously cute), we found a path back to Glendalough and the monastic site.
This is along that 1km path to the monastery. Joel mentioned that a lot of the scenery around us looked like a stage, which led into discussions of what plays we would do in the forest. A lot of it, including this photo, reminded me of Chekhov.
(The colors were so striking!)
We wandered the graveyard (speaking of outdoor theater, I still really want to do Carthaginians in an actual graveyard) and the monastic sites, and then down the long path to the lake. It was terrifically cold and windy, especially around the lake, but we sat & ate our lunches anyway, & shivered & laughed at how ridiculously cold it was & took pictures:
See? Gorgeous. (The scenery in the back's not all that bad, either.)
(Sorry. Sorry, I couldn't resist!)
We went for dinner that night in Laragh, after a debate on whether it was worth braving the wind and the cold and the dark, or whether we should just eat our bananas and stolen hostel-rolls. Hunger won out, and we bundled up and went up the tiny road toward the village, swiping our flashlight out to warn any cars that we were there, since there were no streetlights. It was rather exhilarating, though, and with the trees all around and the high wind it sounded like we were right next to the ocean. And you could see the stars, so many of them that it was hard to pick out constellations at all.
The next morning we had a slow breakfast at the B&B before packing up and going back to Glendalough. Can I just say that I love B&Bs for the fact that you can just sit and linger over breakfast that is really good but you a) didn't have to cook & b) won't have to clean up? It's awesome.
We walked back over the small bridge & the path to Glendalough:
(I'm really fond of the light in this picture.)
We walked back toward the lake, via the opposite path from the day before, and there was more amazing woods and beautiful colors. It sounds so pointless and repetitive when I say it, but it all really was so pretty. Here, have a picture instead of me babbling.
When we got to the lake we went into the information office and looked at trail maps. The lady working there was ready to tell us all about which trails we ought to take and tapped out a route on the map on her desk, and was even nice enough to let us store our bags in her office although it really wasn't a cloakroom. We hiked up the mountains a little (enough to make my calves hurt the next day) and then sat by a stream to eat our lunch of B&B brown bread, oranges, bananas and stolen chocolate biscuits.
Yep, that was where we had lunch.
We hiked up a little further along the trail, hoping to find the great panorama view the lady had promised. We found enough of one to satisfy us at any rate, and came back down the mountain via the waterfall-side trail:
We came back to Dublin on a really warm bus (heaters going full on). I fell asleep, and Joel is a very comfortable pillow...but it was only for a few minutes. We told jokes on the way home.
Saturday night was me attempting to write some on my papers (which really didn't happen), and hanging out in the apartments, and then going to Cozy's birthday party! Where there was lots of drinking and dancing around and drunk french girls hanging out of windows and that one kazoo... it was a little crazy. And I took Joel to the Barge, to see a proper Irish pub & get a pint of Guinness, and then we walked back along the canals at night. And I should add that Kate is a doll & a darling for not minding Joel crashing in our room that night, since he had no hostel bed to go to. Good roommates are a godsend.
We woke up & put together some breakfast & some packed lunch on Sunday, before catching the train out to Malahide, which is a far away suburb area of Dublin. I didn't take my camera out on this part of the trip at all, so I have no pictures; they're all on Joel's camera. So I'll wait to update the second part of this until I can steal some photos from him, I think. That'll be all for now.
Actually, nearly my whole week. Joel arrived on Wednesday morning, and I had to wait through voice class before I could go meet him. I swear those were the longest three hours of my life! But I got through them somehow, and met Joel on the bridge over the canal, and finally, finally got to see him. Words are really not enough to describe this week, and how wonderful it was to see Joel again. This post will probably just be lots of events, and totally inadequate as to what I felt, but if I go off babbling, forgive me. Wednesday night was fajita night at Cozy's, where I dragged Joel to meet everyone, and where I pretty much failed as a girlfriend because I couldn't for the life of me remember who I'd introduced or hadn't and ended up not managing to do that social thing very well. But he handled my social idiocy well and it was really fun to hang out with all the theater kids and have him there as well. Also the fajitas were really tasty.
Thursday morning was class-free, so we decided to poke around a few museums. We were exploring St Stephen's Green when it began to mist at us, but since we're Seattleites, that's nothing we can't handle. The downpour two minutes later, however, was something slightly different. It caught us just outside the park, and by the time we found shelter on Kildare street we were dripping with rain. The Archeology Museum was just next door, so we stopped in there--it was warm, and dry, and historically fun! We wanted to leave our coats and bags but I wasn't sure if the cloakroom was free, so I went to ask. "Are you students?" the attendant asked, and when we admitted we were he added, "that's a typical student question." Oh, college students: the same the world over.
Thursday night was Thai Takeout Thursday, which put me & Joel & Katie V into a food coma. Joel & I had talked about going salsa dancing, but the place isn't terrific and I was pretty much unable to get up from the couch, so instead we just flopped together for a while & talked to my roommates and I eventually managed to get up and pack for Friday.
Our first outside-Dublin trip was up to Glendalough. We caught the bus after my early class, armed with lunches and hot chocolate & a scone for me. After riding all the way to Glendalough, we realized that we should have gotten off the bus in Laragh, just a kilometer back on the road. So we hitched a ride back on the next bus toward Dublin, and we found our B&B down a small lane past the main road. After leaving our things in the room (small & cozy & ridiculously cute), we found a path back to Glendalough and the monastic site.
This is along that 1km path to the monastery. Joel mentioned that a lot of the scenery around us looked like a stage, which led into discussions of what plays we would do in the forest. A lot of it, including this photo, reminded me of Chekhov.
(The colors were so striking!)
We wandered the graveyard (speaking of outdoor theater, I still really want to do Carthaginians in an actual graveyard) and the monastic sites, and then down the long path to the lake. It was terrifically cold and windy, especially around the lake, but we sat & ate our lunches anyway, & shivered & laughed at how ridiculously cold it was & took pictures:
See? Gorgeous. (The scenery in the back's not all that bad, either.)
(Sorry. Sorry, I couldn't resist!)
We went for dinner that night in Laragh, after a debate on whether it was worth braving the wind and the cold and the dark, or whether we should just eat our bananas and stolen hostel-rolls. Hunger won out, and we bundled up and went up the tiny road toward the village, swiping our flashlight out to warn any cars that we were there, since there were no streetlights. It was rather exhilarating, though, and with the trees all around and the high wind it sounded like we were right next to the ocean. And you could see the stars, so many of them that it was hard to pick out constellations at all.
The next morning we had a slow breakfast at the B&B before packing up and going back to Glendalough. Can I just say that I love B&Bs for the fact that you can just sit and linger over breakfast that is really good but you a) didn't have to cook & b) won't have to clean up? It's awesome.
We walked back over the small bridge & the path to Glendalough:
(I'm really fond of the light in this picture.)
We walked back toward the lake, via the opposite path from the day before, and there was more amazing woods and beautiful colors. It sounds so pointless and repetitive when I say it, but it all really was so pretty. Here, have a picture instead of me babbling.
When we got to the lake we went into the information office and looked at trail maps. The lady working there was ready to tell us all about which trails we ought to take and tapped out a route on the map on her desk, and was even nice enough to let us store our bags in her office although it really wasn't a cloakroom. We hiked up the mountains a little (enough to make my calves hurt the next day) and then sat by a stream to eat our lunch of B&B brown bread, oranges, bananas and stolen chocolate biscuits.
Yep, that was where we had lunch.
We hiked up a little further along the trail, hoping to find the great panorama view the lady had promised. We found enough of one to satisfy us at any rate, and came back down the mountain via the waterfall-side trail:
We came back to Dublin on a really warm bus (heaters going full on). I fell asleep, and Joel is a very comfortable pillow...but it was only for a few minutes. We told jokes on the way home.
Saturday night was me attempting to write some on my papers (which really didn't happen), and hanging out in the apartments, and then going to Cozy's birthday party! Where there was lots of drinking and dancing around and drunk french girls hanging out of windows and that one kazoo... it was a little crazy. And I took Joel to the Barge, to see a proper Irish pub & get a pint of Guinness, and then we walked back along the canals at night. And I should add that Kate is a doll & a darling for not minding Joel crashing in our room that night, since he had no hostel bed to go to. Good roommates are a godsend.
We woke up & put together some breakfast & some packed lunch on Sunday, before catching the train out to Malahide, which is a far away suburb area of Dublin. I didn't take my camera out on this part of the trip at all, so I have no pictures; they're all on Joel's camera. So I'll wait to update the second part of this until I can steal some photos from him, I think. That'll be all for now.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Gardens & Castles.
I haven't gone anywhere spectacular since midterms, which is okay by me. It's been paper-writing time (& I didn't get as much done as I wanted, but I wasn't really expecting to. I have time). Over the weekend we explored Dublin a bit more; I went to Dublin Castle with Cozy, Lee & Meghan. And before that I found Ivaugh Gardens, which are somewhere behind St Stephen's Green, & smaller, & much emptier of people. You know those determined quests to find something you know is around & you know is worth it, where you get lost & then stumble upon it randomly & it turns out to be just as good as you wanted? Yeah, well...it was like that.
But first have some DUCKLINGS!
I found Ivaugh Gardens, & they were wonderful. I found a side entrance & came down a ramp to this:
There's a rose garden near that entrance, & when you're inside all of the outside views are framed by the tall fence:
In summer I imagine it's covered in vines & flowers...in winter, it's just bare green metal. There were only a few roses in the rose garden, & none of them very bright. The gardens in winter have a hunkered down feeling, a more peaceful feeling. It's a little desolate, but not unhappily so.
I climbed up a little rocky hill outside the rose circle to look down on it.
Just to the side of the roses, further into the garden, is a large landscaped lawn, everything manicured (or as much as one can with leaves going everywhere), and two large fountains.
The angels take their job seriously.
And more lawns--and a waterfall!
And there were identical gates to either side of the waterfall, gates that were sadly locked. This was more frustrating than usual, because--well, just look at that gate! It's too interesting to be unbroachable.
Further afield, there's...a field. (...sorry.)
And some art, artistically placed near a litter bin...
And some more art, this time with a head:
DUBLIN CASTLE
These are the gardens behind Dublin Castle, right outside the Chester Beatty Library (to which I went to with the parents last week--really gorgeous & eclectic collection, mostly of religious books and art).
Back on the other side--this is the entrance.
The figure of Justice, inside the ground & opposite the entrance to the main castle building. But this Justice isn't blindfolded, like the allegory usually is.
So Dublin Castle is not exactly a castle anymore; most of that burned down a few hundred years ago, although one tower survives (I bet you can spot it in my photos...). It was the home of the Viceroy for England before Ireland gained independence, and as such was home to state dinners, balls, Important Guests & other suchlike. Now it's government offices. But lots of the old sumptuous still remains:
(Outside the main room, just up the stairs from the entrance.)
(A side room, once a drawing room, now used to show off a table donated by a narcoleptic judge.)
(The Ladies' Drawing Room, where said Ladies would wait to be asked into the ballroom. If you were a Ladie you weren't allowed into the ballroom except as a man's partner. Pshaw, I say.)
(The banquet room. The Viceroy would sit in the middle, opposite all those mirrors, which were tilted just so, in order for him to spy on everyone in the room. Hah.)
(The ceiling of the ballroom / state room / etc. The painter of those (whose name I sadly can't remember at the moment) was an Italian, who was living in Irish society. He was invited to a wedding, and the groom wasn't showing up, with the poor bride waiting at the altar...so he walked up there & offered to marry her instead. & she said yes.)
And the last part of the tour was down into the other tower they still have, which is all underground; it is being excavated & archeological work is being done on it. Mostly it is old walls & stopped up passages & rocks. & because I am a nerd, I think it's way cool. (Sorry the photos are dark. We were basically in a big hole.)
& it's definitely time for bed; classes are starting to wear us all out. And tomorrow? Tomorrow is finally Wednesday. Which means Joel's arriving in Dublin!
But first have some DUCKLINGS!
I found Ivaugh Gardens, & they were wonderful. I found a side entrance & came down a ramp to this:
There's a rose garden near that entrance, & when you're inside all of the outside views are framed by the tall fence:
In summer I imagine it's covered in vines & flowers...in winter, it's just bare green metal. There were only a few roses in the rose garden, & none of them very bright. The gardens in winter have a hunkered down feeling, a more peaceful feeling. It's a little desolate, but not unhappily so.
I climbed up a little rocky hill outside the rose circle to look down on it.
Just to the side of the roses, further into the garden, is a large landscaped lawn, everything manicured (or as much as one can with leaves going everywhere), and two large fountains.
The angels take their job seriously.
And more lawns--and a waterfall!
And there were identical gates to either side of the waterfall, gates that were sadly locked. This was more frustrating than usual, because--well, just look at that gate! It's too interesting to be unbroachable.
Further afield, there's...a field. (...sorry.)
And some art, artistically placed near a litter bin...
And some more art, this time with a head:
DUBLIN CASTLE
These are the gardens behind Dublin Castle, right outside the Chester Beatty Library (to which I went to with the parents last week--really gorgeous & eclectic collection, mostly of religious books and art).
Back on the other side--this is the entrance.
The figure of Justice, inside the ground & opposite the entrance to the main castle building. But this Justice isn't blindfolded, like the allegory usually is.
So Dublin Castle is not exactly a castle anymore; most of that burned down a few hundred years ago, although one tower survives (I bet you can spot it in my photos...). It was the home of the Viceroy for England before Ireland gained independence, and as such was home to state dinners, balls, Important Guests & other suchlike. Now it's government offices. But lots of the old sumptuous still remains:
(Outside the main room, just up the stairs from the entrance.)
(A side room, once a drawing room, now used to show off a table donated by a narcoleptic judge.)
(The Ladies' Drawing Room, where said Ladies would wait to be asked into the ballroom. If you were a Ladie you weren't allowed into the ballroom except as a man's partner. Pshaw, I say.)
(The banquet room. The Viceroy would sit in the middle, opposite all those mirrors, which were tilted just so, in order for him to spy on everyone in the room. Hah.)
(The ceiling of the ballroom / state room / etc. The painter of those (whose name I sadly can't remember at the moment) was an Italian, who was living in Irish society. He was invited to a wedding, and the groom wasn't showing up, with the poor bride waiting at the altar...so he walked up there & offered to marry her instead. & she said yes.)
And the last part of the tour was down into the other tower they still have, which is all underground; it is being excavated & archeological work is being done on it. Mostly it is old walls & stopped up passages & rocks. & because I am a nerd, I think it's way cool. (Sorry the photos are dark. We were basically in a big hole.)
& it's definitely time for bed; classes are starting to wear us all out. And tomorrow? Tomorrow is finally Wednesday. Which means Joel's arriving in Dublin!
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