Day 1 - Dublin, Ireland

I got a 3-hour nap today. Yup, 3 hours. It ended up being the only sleep I got today because of our adventure to Ireland. I went to bed at 11pm after calling me & telling her to call me at 2am. I had to be up at 2 so I could be ready to leave when the taxi arrived at 245am. The taxi came, Freddy & I picked up Johannes & Flor (2 German guys) & off we went to the bus station. Our bus left at 330. There were only 5 people on the bus so we all spread out, hoping to sleep. I didn't. We got into Bristol where we waited about 30 minutes to for the bus to the airport. The driver was really friendly - he originally lived in Surrey & after a few years, decided to pack up & leave. To decide where he was going, he opened a map of the UK & put his finger down. He ended in Bristol. In 6 months time, he'll repeat the action. We were at Bristol airport 2 hours early, so we checked in & then sat around. Our hop to Ireland (literally, with a 45 minute flight) was quick & painless with Ryan Air (our tickets cost $3 a person!). We landed in Dublin at 9am & to town we went.

Now, my overall impression of Dublin will contain a profanity that is much needed. It is a shit-hole, I am sad to say. It was horrible - completely not worth the money I paid to stay. The city itself sits on the river like most great Irish towns (think Galway & Ballyvaughan on the bay).

The river, however, has been polluted by drugs because drug-dealers & buyers, when seeing the garda (police), throw the evidence into the river. Hence, most druggies can be found at the river because it is so easy to dispose of the drugs. Dublin is also a huge brewery, in my opinion. The home offices for Heineken, Guinness, & Bailey's are in Dublin. The place has been industrialized to the point that it simply is no longer beautiful. I can't even call it pretty frankly.

Only 3 things were worth visiting in Dublin ... or so we thought. The first place we went was Trinity College. The campus itself is beautiful. The whole point of going was to see the Book of Kells ... well, if you wanted to pay 7Euros (approx. $11) to see the book, go ahead. And if you wanted to wait in a long queue, go ahead. I opted not to. As much as I wanted to see the book, I couldn't justify spending the money when that would be the only thing I would see.

Trinity College quadrant

The music hall where they were performing 12-hours of nonstop piano playing. The guys weren't up for listening. Losers.

This is the closest I got to the Book of Kells.

Playing cricket at the uni!

The trees in gorgeous bloom!

Our next stop was Dublin Castle. Castle my foot! I think that, just maybe, one of the walls was original. You couldn't even go into the "castle" but they had a gift shop! We found the castle gardens across the road, so spent an hour lying in the sun there. That was nice - I got a little red (i.e. tan for a red-head)!

Castle my foot ... can I sue for false advertising?

The original part of the "castle" is the round tower.

Already the castle gardens are looking better! I love this scroll work.

The Coach House from the gardens - it was actually never used.

Johannes enjoying the sun in the gardens. I think he fell alseep though he denies it.

I wanted to see St. Patrick's Cathedral (the guys were grumping because they don't like churches or museums & didn't want to do anything related to those). Off we went. St. Patrick's Cathedral is pretty impressive & maybe the only reason I would go to Dublin. Jonathan Swift is buried in the church. As an English major, I was quite excited. Freddy knew who Swift was, but the other 2 had no clue. (They don't have much of a clue about anything actually.) Some of my photos did not turn out, which was sad.

St. Patrick's Cathedral

Jonathan Swift's grave at St. Patrick's.

The altar at St. Patrick's

The interior of St. Patrick's looking towards the altar.

The outside of the pews are magnificently carved out of wood!

Inscription reads: "This stone was 13th June 1901 six feet below the surface on the traditional site of St. Patrick's Well, 91 feet due north from the north west angle of the tower."

We are dinner at 3pm. I had vegetable soup & soda bread (glorious) followed by a chicken wrap (not so glorious). By 6pm, we were back at out hostel. Flor immediately fell asleep. I was wading my way through Rebecca for the umpteenth time for my essay due in a week. I was asleep by 7pm. Freddy went to call Pippa, his girlfriend, while Johannes plotted where we would go the next day. The guys returned at 9:30. I woke up long enough to change & go back to sleep. They were stunned that Flor & I could sleep so long (almost 15 hours by their calculations), but I believe they forgot that I had only slept 3 hours, if that, the previous night.

I had to take a photo of this! It's Irish Literary History of which the Germans just don't get!

Walking a fine line ...

Have you ever noticed how, as soon as it warms up, women immediately dust off the sandals, short skirts, dresses, & heels? Well, if not, you should be more observant because that is what happens. I'm guilty of it myself - I wore a skirt & flip flops today. I wore a skirt & flip flops one day in Paris because the weather was glorious.

Now I am have nothing against wearing such things since I do it myself. What I am against is the way a woman walks in the outfit! I have noticed that British women do not know how to walk like ladies! Now maybe I am falling into the patriarchal conceptions of women, but you should see the way women present themselves over here.

Today, for example, I ventured into town so I could run by work to write down my schedule. I had to take the bus. Now a bus station, especially Swansea's, is the prime location to spot such fashion faux-pas victims.

First, there was a girl, probably teen-ager, dressed in a not so modest jean mini-skirt (if she bent over, I bet I could see her knickers (aka underwear - Zoe's trying to break me of my horrid American English ways) & half a shirt (I say half because you could completely see her stomach, which looked as if it had never heard of crunches or sit ups). Anyway. Shoes. She was wearing these hugaciously large stiletto heels. How she walked in them in the first place, I will never know. But the way she did walk in them was problematic. She took overly large strides that threw her body off balance, causing her to teeter-totter back and forth. All with her stomach hanging over (I don't see how people tolerate that!). On top of that she was chewing gum like a cow chews their cud. And we know that is not lady-like (at least mom always yelled at me for chewing with my mouth open). The overall picture was very displeasing. She looked uncomfortable.

Second, there was a woman - 30s maybe, but you never know with Swansea residents - wearing a knee-length skirt and sandals (very cute ones at that). Think how male high school students walk with their pants halfway to their knees. That's how she walked. Didn't work at all.

There were many other examples I could cite, but I won't. Those were just two that I can quickly recall. Now, again falling into gender stereotypes and patriarchy, my mom had the decency to teach me how to walk in all types of shoes. In heels, I take smaller strides even though I hate doing that. In flip flops, I walk so my shoes stay on. In tennis shoes I can run. Most of all, I walk upright, stomach sucked in (at least I try to hide the flab), and, of course, modestly dressed (most of the time). I don't slouch (unless I'm sitting down). I walk with a purpose. It's not rocket science people. If I kind figure out, surely everyone else can!

So next time you go out, watch how people, especially women, are dressed and how they present themselves. Maybe etiquette classes should be brought back into the school curriculum.

Anyway, I'm off to Ireland tonight (at 3am!). Freddy and I (and 2 of his German friends) fly out of Bristol early tomorrow morning and return sometime on Friday. I'm sure I'll have tons of photos to post as we are flying to Dublin, picking up a car and going to Cork and Limerick. At least I'll be in heaven for a few days.

It's Good to be "Home"

I am sure some of you have been keeping up with what I have been doing over spring break the past week with the OCHS blog. Well, that was written by the students. So now it is my turn to write. And since none of the students have this blog address, I don’t have to romanticize anything.

I got in Friday night to Luton, which is right out side of London. I didn’t have an option to come in on Saturday before my flight because train & bus times. After consulting with mom, it was decided I would stay in a hotel. I stayed at the Express which is a branch of Holiday Inn I believe. I would just like to say that I had the best shower EVER (finally a bathroom with water pressure!), slept in the biggest bed that was all to myself, & watched an actual television! It was glorious! Getting there was a pain, but the room completely made up for it. I took the train from Swansea to London & a friend of Freddy’s was on there as well, so we sat together & chatted (he was going to Thailand for 2 weeks for his brother’s wedding).

I woke up bright & early on Saturday to get to the airport for an early check in. I was flying EasyJet, & the earlier you check in, then the better options on seats because they board by sections A, B, C, & D which are designated by how soon you check in. Since I was there 2 hours early, I sat at a table where I met the cutest twin boys ever. They were 3-years-old & were traveling with their parents to Ireland (where the parents’ families live). They were telling me all about what they were going to do & their favorite colors. And you can’t resist little kids with British accents (if you don’t know what I mean, watch The Holiday with Jude Law & Kate Winslet in it; then you’ll understand). The flight was uneventful. I got in on time & then had to figure out where to find the group. I came in at Terminal 3. They came in at Terminal 2E. So I hopped a bus to the terminal. Luckily mom & some of the students were standing outside the bus stop to catch the bus to come to MY terminal, so we saw each other & everything was great!

We only had one issue & that was with Ryan & his attempt to put his RER ticket in the wrong slot, thus causing me to jump the turnstile & go to the information desk to get someone to help us. First attempt at using French … well, I never learned the vocab I needed for that issue & luckily the lady spoke English. We made it to the apartment okay with only a few suitcases getting stuck on the way out of the Chatelet RER terminal.

That night, we went to Palm Sunday (on Saturday) mass at Notre Dame Catherdral. This was the first time I had seen the middle doors opened! So that was really cool to see. Luckily Mom had gotten some English versions of the Mass & the French bulletin had the readings so we could follow along. And I sang the Creed in Latin – go me! After Mass we went to dinner at the Greek Restaurant that Mom & I had eaten at when we were in Paris last summer. The owner remembered us, gave us free drinks, & I got free dessert! It was glorious! I love knowing people in Paris! Afterwards we ran over to Le Grenier to see if Riadh was there. He was, so we made plans for him to meet up with us on Thursday since he was off that morning.

Sunday was an early morning (i.e. 6am) to go to the Loire Valley to see the castles. My housemate Freddy flew in to Paris to stay with us. Nothing particularly exciting happened. Monday … well, I don’t even remember what I did Monday quite frankly, so it must not have been too terribly exciting either.

Tuesday … ahh, Tuesday. That was a fun day. Again, another 6am morning as the group was to go to the Normandy Beaches. Well, that didn’t happen. Apparently the tour company didn’t get the reservation & the bus was full. They said we could go to Thursday. Thursday I was going to a Moulin Rouge show, so I wouldn’t be able to go. So Freddy & I found spots on the bus & went on the Normandy. It was a blustery day – right out of Winnie the Pooh story when they get blown around all day. And it was COLD! It was really interesting being on a tour in France, tailored to Americans, with a German that was about WWII. Very interesting. When we returned, I joined the group to go on a Seine River cruise in the evening. Of course, it was cold!

Wednesday … don’t remember much again. Thursday the group went to Normandy while Freddy & I kept the engagement with Riadh. We met him at 10am & walked to the Luxembourg Gardens which I had never been to. It was sunny, so we moved with the sun on to various benches. Freddy spoke with Riadh in French while I just sat there & tried to understand what they were saying. Riadh informed me I spoke “bad French” so I told him he spoke “bad English” which is somewhat true, though he speaks English better than I speak French. I finally met up with a Welsh friend of mine who was supposed to join me (with 2 of her friends) to the Moulin Rouge. (Their flight has been canceled a few days prior.) We had some miscommunication & they booked a MR tour as well. So we had to figure out how to cancel without losing out 500 Euros. (Freddy figured out we could change the date to the next week & then cancel at least 3 days prior to get 80% of the money back which is what we did.)

Friday was our last day in Paris and it was Good Friday at that. Jena McCarty & I went shopping for engagement gifts for her brother (& my good friend) Brent while the rest of the group went to Versailles (which was under heavy renovations). We ate at Le Grenier where Riadh works since it was a vegetarian restaurant. Freddy & I got into an argument on the way back to the apartment – he said I was pissed off at the world & taking it out on him. My theory is that we aren’t used to living under each other’s feet like we had been & eventually someone would blow. I figured it would be mom & me getting into an argument, but I should have known it would be Freddy since we are way too much alike. We all packed up Friday night so we could say goodbye to Paris on Saturday.

On Saturday we caught the metro to go to the RER station to go to the airport. I was glad to be heading back to Swansea because I wouldn’t be around 11 other people. But I really didn’t want to leave Mom & Paris because, well, it’s Mom & Paris – she pays for everything & I love Paris. J Freddy & I had no problems getting back to Swansea. And the first, shocking, words out of my mouth when we finally stepped off the bus onto Swansea property –

I missed this place!

Yes, I, Katie Bartlett, will admit to missing Swansea. I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth, but they did. And Freddy can verify that I said them! I was finally back in a place where they spoke English (with an accent, but that’s ok), had pubs, had my own room with my own bed, and could just be. Paris didn’t feel like a vacation, though I was gone a week. I didn’t even feel like I was gone that long!

I now know that I am not crazy about traveling with people unless it’s Mom. We know how each other works. We know what irritates the other (& of course pointedly irritate one another at times). We travel well together. And it’s SO much easier to get 2 people on a metro as opposed to 13!!!

So next time I travel to Paris, it will be with Mom.

It’s good to be back in Swansea.

Trip to Paris

Hey everyone! Just wanted to let you know that I will probably not be posting this upcoming week. I am off to Paris to "chaperone" Mom's group of 8 students. If all works out with the internet at the apartment, the students will be blogging on their own address. You can read about their adventures at http://www.ochsinfrance.blogspot.com. I'll try to post, but it will be dependent on how long they use my laptop & how much time I have.

Sexing the Cherry

OK, so the title may sound suggestive or weird, & maybe it is but I offer a new explanation. Sexing the Cherry is a crazy weird book by Jeanette Winterson. She uses TONS of myth, fairy tale, & biblical allusions. At first I really didn't like it, but once I got into it, I did. These are two of my favorite quotes from the book on running away & religion.


"... When I left England I thought I was running away. Running away from uncertainty and confusion but most of all running away from myself. I thought I might become someone else in time, grafted on to something better and stronger. And then I saw that the running away was a running towards. An effort to catch up with my fleet-footed self, living another life in a different way." - p. 86-87

"...God has had a great deal written about Him; nothing has been written about me. God is bigger, like my mother, easier to find, even in the dark. I could be anywhere, and since I can't describe myself I can't ask for help. We are alone in this quest, and Fortunata is rigt not to disguise it, though she may be wrong about love. I have met a great many pilgrims on their way towards God and I wonder why they have chosen to look for him rather than themselves. Perhaps I'm missing the point - perhaps whilst looking for someone else you might come across yorusef unexpectedly, in a garden somewhere or on a mountain watching the rain. But they don't seem to care about who they are. Some of them have told me that the very point of searching for God is to forget about oneself, to lose oneself for ever. But it is not difficult to lose oneself, or is it the ego they are talking about, the hollow, screaming cadaver that has no spirit within it?
I think that cadaver is only the ideal self run mad, and if the other life, the secret life, could be found & brought home, then a person might live in peace and have no need for God. After all, He has no need for us, being complete." -116