As for Ireland, the trip was incredible, frustrating, and rewarding all rolled into a weekend. The plan was for me to meet my friends from Pepperdine's Florence program in the airport, despite the fact my flight got in four hours early. Luckily there was a pub there and I lounged in a booth with my book and some of the local fares until their flight landed. I haven't seen my friends since last April, so the feeling upon embracing them for the first time was that of sheer jubilation. My dorm last year had some fantastic guys that really bonded together and had an amazing atmosphere. In fact we became notorious for always rolling to different places together and for being so tight-knit. Seeing two of these dorm mates and spending the weekend with them in the Emerald Isle was terrific. Also there were four girls, two of which I was friendly with all the way back to freshman orientation, and another two I met for the first time (though after four hours in the pub they were welcomed to the same hug given to my closest friends).
We proceeded to Dublin and after getting dropped off in Parnell
Square located our hostel a few blocks away. Boy, what a dump. We were in a ten person mixed room with three other really odd kids there but all of our beds appearing to have been slept in previously. After going back to the front desk, we were instructed to flip the mattress over if it was that big of a deal to us. Yikes. After stripping our belongings of everything valuable, we dropped off our bags and headed over to Temple Bar, the section of Dublin notorious for it's nightlife. Unfortunately, many of the most active pubs and bars were limited to those 23 and over (for the record, its 18+ to drink, so this goes well beyond anything I would consider "reasonable." Is 21 not considered responsible enough?). Eventually we found a few places we got to enjoy and had a merry time. The exception being of course the litany of folks hitting on the four girls in our group - all asking bluntly to begin "Do ye have a boyfriend?" And doing the math, us guys couldn't always cover for every girl.After that we went back to our hostel where the lights weren't shut off until 3:30 by the guys who controlled all the lights at the front desk. Then there were the rowdy mobs who went door to door knocking and yelling and just being flat out obnoxious. After they ended there reign of misery, and just as it looked like we could get some sleep, someone pulled the damn fire alarm. I mean really, who does that? Suffice to stay, I don't have fond memories of Mt. Eccles Court.
After we woke and showered (which I'm relatively certain made me dirtier) we went to, where else, the Guinness Factory for some nice pre-noon drinks. Oy. It was one of those things you have to do in Dublin and we did it, though I suppose I was still reeling from the night before to enjoy it fully. Afterwards we went to Christ Church, built in the 11th century and the oldest church -I believe- in Ireland. From there it was off to the bus station to catch our bus to the country side where our next night was to be spent. Here's where it got "frustrating."
Our hostel was in a tiny village called Glendalough (pronounced Glen-da-lock) though our sales person at the bus station advised us to go to Wicklow, leading us to believe Glendalough was just a part of Wicklow. Well, technically that was correct, except Wicklow was a town as well as a county in which Glendalough was located. The town of Wicklow itself, where the agent sent us, was a good 40 minutes from our desired destination. And lo and behold, the buses stopped running to Glendalough from Wicklow a half hour before we got there. Ugh. At least our initial bus ride was amazing as we got a sunset view of the gorgeous countryside. The only problem now was that it was getting dark and we were gradually getting marooned from our desired location. We tried to catch buses that would at least get us closer, but even then we could only get as close as 20 minutes away.
We got as far as a tiny village called Killmakaneic before we ran out of options. We could either try and find a reasonably priced mini-bus/taxi or take a bus back to the only place where they were running to that late on a weekend: Dublin. We literally went door to door at the handful of establishments that populated the small village, and upon getting to the last gas station nearly gave up. Literally the last person we approached before we were about to leave, a Garda, an Irish policeman, turned out to be our saving grace. He just so happened to have a neighbor whose brother ran a one man mini-bus company and offered to take us to Glendalough for 50 Euro, reasonable considering there were seven of us. After four hours we finally got to our hostel a half hour before the front desk closed and we would have been without a room. Our driver was pushing 90 on some twisting mountain roads, and I happened to be one of the poor souls facing backwards on the bench seating of the Ford Transit. I almost booted on everybody and everything, but made it to solid ground and the comforting embrace of one of my friends just in time.
The hostel there might as well have been Versailles compared to the night before. We had our own room in a quiet enclave nestled in the Irish country side. For weary travelers it was perfect. We went to bed relatively early but after some good banter about old times. We were exhausted and relatively broke, affording us little opportunity on the pub-front. However, it did mean we could get up extra early for a sunrise hike around our hostel, which was absolutely divine. Seriously, the Irish countryside is gorgeous. We would have stayed longer except only two buses leave Glendalough for Dublin all day, a 9:45 AM bus and a 5:00 PM bus. We had to take the former since our flights left in the mid afternoon. Still, the ride back to Dublin was amazing in it's own right as well. Definitely well worth checking out for anyone in Europe.
Back in Dublin, we walked around some of the swankier shopping districts (whose names allude me at the moment) before ending our journey at St. Patrick's Cathedral. -Begin rant- What upset me the most was the 5 Euro fee to get into the church they required. Had they asked for a donation, I would gladly have paid to keep one of the most revered and stately institutions in good stead. But I just have a problem with a priest riding a cash register at the head of a queue to get into a place of worship. Wasn't Jesus against this kind of practice in the church? Did Christians not learn anything from the Reformation? -End rant-
St. Patrick's green beside the church was lovely and remarkably vibrant for a January afternoon. the grass was as green as any New England lawn in the summer and flowers were even in bloom. And to think that was the spot where St. Patrick converted a great many of the native inhabitants of Ireland centuries before our journey. The whole spot was just so serene and inviting. Unfortunately, though, that was the spot of our departure as my flight left a few hours before there's. After navigating my way back to the airport, I made it back to my flight and eventually back here with some incredible memories and one wicked cough.
Overall, it was a great learning experience. Much of the traveling I did was on my own and while the native language was always English, it was still very foreign. I learned a great deal about hostels, courtesy with the locals, and how not to panic when plans seem to unravel. But best of all, I got to have some fantastic moments with my friends, something that can never be taken for granted.
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