Frog Blog

when i arrived, it was raining. i took a cab to the b&b, which is lovely, and settled in. wandered the town, dropped off laundry at a place where they do it for you for £7, got lunch, wandered wandered wandered. surprisingly things are rather dead up here until july. the tourist information desk told me that they don't offer coach tours of the coast and giant's causeway until next month. i tried to call for a walking tour today but couldn't reach the guy; when i showed up at 10 this morning he told me the tour was already booked and to come back at noon. so i have some time to kill.

my head is in a little better space. i'm not freaking out as much as before. i'm trying to remind myself that yes, i'm tired and tired of traveling but i am in ireland, after all, and that's pretty cool compared to trying to find a job back home.

my thoughts on the irish so far: mixed bag. while some have been so frickin helpful in giving me directions or whatever, many have been cranky pants-- although the cranky ones have been selling bus tickets or driving buses or other relatively mundane jobs. maybe i'd be cranky too.

the bus ride up from belfast yesterday was stunning, rain and all. two old women got on the bus and it took me about 15 minutes to figure out that their clucking was actually the word "aye." one of them said "aye" about every five seconds to her friend as a way of agreeing or showing support. sort of like our "uh huh" or "oh" or "yeah." but it sounded more like a tick and like "ah-I." strange. it's difficult for me to understand people up here when we talk-- which is disheartening because most people are trying to engage me in small talk like, "onholidayareye?" and "mayeeitsbadweetherwerehafinuh?" and i'm like, sorry? excuse me? and trying not to sound all snobby. i'm looking forward to getting down to the republic of ireland. on verra, as we say in french. we'll see.

this morning at breakfast i met four people on holiday from london and they invited me along for a tour of the bogside murals here in derry. they were all very nice and entertaining. the tour was super cool but it started really, really raining about halfway through-- so much that my pants were completely soaked even though i had an umbrella. there were about 25 kids from australia on our tour as well, and we all kept bouncing from tree to tree trying to find shelter from the storm. the rain stopped as soon as we stepped into the bogside artists' studio to meet the artists and watch a short video of what they've done. it was fascinating but soggy. after the video when we went out to look at the murals up close, it started raining again so our viewing was short lived. i think i'm going to try and see them up close again this afternoon now that it's not raining (again).

the londoners took off and i changed clothes and grabbed a sandwich from the deli down the road. two days in a row now i've ordered what i thought was egg salad but what is actually sliced egg with onions and mayo. tasty, but not really what i've had in mind.

in their defense, the irish i've met so far seem to have a hard time understanding me, too. and most of them are relatively ... leery of me. at least it seems that way. i've decided that as a young woman traveling alone i'm easily approachable but that other women are often cold toward me. why, i can't say for sure. single women often treat me fine but most women in a couple--traveling with their husbands or boyfriends-- aren't all that nice. maybe i'm a threat? it's hard to explain-- more like a feeling.

the minute i open my mouth with the irish, though, i become a novelty. with the french it wasn't quite like that-- they seemed more annoyed that i couldn't speak french perfectly and were less interested about me and where i was from. the irish just stare and stare after i order something or speak; and this is more strange, i think, because we have a common language. i haven't met many people who've gotten past the staring part. maybe they're shy? or they're not used to americans all the way up here? all these half baked thoughts.

i'm in newry staying chez F and being well taken care of. so nice. she's about five miles from the border. tomorrow i have to do some travel housecleaning: call for hostels, buy a bus ticket, pack up th bag again, do some laundry, etc. it's so nice to be in someone's home, though, being well fed. we slipped into a town just across the border this afternoon. maybe it was just my imagination, but the folks seemed a little friendlier down in the republic. i can't blame them up here in the north, though, considering the troubles really only ended about ten years ago. and while everything may seem all cool on the surface, F's family pointed out that many of the same tensions remain as undercurrents. like how newry is mostly a catholic town in the north-- the roads here aren't nearly as nice as some of the roads in smaller protestant towns. stuff like that. it sucks really. it makes me a bit uneasy-- not that i'm fearing for my safety-- just the vibe of the place.

there were no visible garbage cans at F's house in newry. no little bins in the bathrooms or bedrooms and it didn't seem like any of them showered or used towels when i was there. the only garbage i could find was off the kitchen in the hall. but it was a really relaxing stay. i drank so much tea and pigged out on biscuits and watched (and loved) "celebrity love island."

i'm currently in dublin and just took a somewhat boring historical tour of the city. i did it to meet people and get my bearings. it was only boring because it was just too many factoids for my brain to process in a short amount of time. it was like the entire history of ireland since the dawn of time until now in less than two hours. interesting to a point but not really at the same time. i met a woman from vancouver, canada, traveling with her 80-year-old mom and a recent cornell graduate here on a trip alone for a few more weeks. the latter says "like" a lot but it's better than nothing. i'm trying to find reinspiration and searching for my bootstraps to hoist up. it's a pretty cool city in which to do just that-- although i'm not the kind who goes out to bars alone at night so i'm counting on meeting more people at my hostel. i have a private room which i've yet to see. it wasn't ready when i arrived so i dumped my bag and got some lunch in town. if it's decent, i'll book two more nights and leave here on sunday, probably bound for kilkenny or a smaller town in between.

they say the republic of ireland is wicked expensive-- apparently it's right up there with finland as one of the most expensive countries in the EU. so far i haven't necessarily noticed except with lodging. i'm paying 32 euros a night for a hostel room. granted, it's a private room, but that's pretty steep if you ask me. the costs of things aren't that much different from france, and after paying up to 3.50 euros for a coke in franceland, 2 euros for the same coke ain't that bad.

hanging with F was relaxing. i slept so well because i didn't have anywhere to go. nothing really to do. her mother talked my ear off, though. many of our conversations involved her saying something and then spending 10 minutes asking me if i agreed and rehashing the same point again and again. i learned to tune it out after a while. she kind of overshadowed F and F's dad, which was too bad. F was a little hard to read-- rather quiet, young. she'd never seen dental floss. no kidding! she's never had oatmeal and had a lot of questions about america. she's never been to london, but i've never been to washington dc or even boise for that matter so i can't fault her for that one. strange girl but the hospitality was so appreciated on my part!!

now i'm drinking a hot tea and will most likely grab some dinner with my tour mate. it's luxury having a whole 28 mintues remaining on my internet time. one hour plus a tea costs 3.50. beats a coke.

where are the dubliners? granted, i've been popping into newsstands mostly and they sure aren't there-- but neither are any other natives in other countries. aka, the butter man. i've met a few natives scattered about but this city is filled more with tourists. not that i mind-- i'm sure i'll get my fill of natives down south.

all that being said, dublin has grown on me. it's a kickass town and it likes to party. it's helping that the weather is kicking ass too. my attitude has been adjusted. it's too cool a town to be all mopey. (pops, insert last laugh here.) it's about 70 degrees out and all breezy and everyone is out enjoying it-- literally-- the streets are clogged with people being out and shopping.

i went shopping! i certainly didn't buy anything on my measly budget but i did try on some diesel jeans and secretly hoped they wouldn't fit like the best pair of jeans ever. lucky for me they didn't, not today. but first things first. and there's a diesel store back home where i'm sure they're cheaper. it will be nice to not fucking CONVERT every price in my head anymore. although the euro vs. the dollar is rather decent now-- better than it has been.

this morning i met a woman in her 80s who's taking a class or training to give classes on hosteling. she's from county donegal, up north where i just was. she told me about this hostel she was in last week run by nuns. they have a 9 pm curfew and if you don't get in you're shit out of luck, no exceptions. so she spent two nights sleeping outside the door. !! she told me most of the women who stay there have been residents for a long long time. one of them didn't like her so she had her head banged into a mirror and got three stitches on her scalp. i thought her idea of a "bad" hostel would be nasty toilets and no breakfast. good gravy. she'll be at breakfast tomorrow. can't wait to talk more over toast and tea.

the guinness factory was over the top. too much, really. the part that made me cringe is when they said, "making wine is so simple: you just squeeze the grapes and the yeast from their skins ferments and you have wine. making beer is so much more of a challenge!" funny how any schmoe can learn how to make a crappy homebrew but you don't see too many people making a barrell of wine. but maybe i'm just biased.

anyway, i walked to the guinness storehouse with two other guys who were as lost as i was. they were somewhat nice at first but turned out to be duds, really. we split up halfway through the self-guided tour. the place is huge, gigantic, yikes. by the end of the six floors touting just how fucking great guinness is, even i was ready for a pint. i must say, it does taste a whole lot better over here. admission (14 euros!!) includes a pint in the gravity bar, a 360-degree space room bar with stellar views of dublin. pretty impressive. yeah, guinness is great, but it ain't the blood of christ like they want you to think it is.

what was even cooler than the guinness tour was the kilmainham jail. i had a guided tour of the nasty old prison that hosted many irish rebels for nearly 150 years. you could look right into the cells and it was easy to imagine how shitty it must have been staying there. it was fascinating in that way that spooky prison tours are. it was much more realistic than alcatraz and definitely not as hollywood.

i'm going backwards sort of but this morning before i left for touring i met a girl from new brunswick, canada, over here on a nursing exchange for the summer. we walked to the river together where i caught a bus and she had an orientation meeting. the best thing happened with the bus. i was waiting at a stop, not sure which bus to take, and started walking down toward another stop to see if i could catch a different bus when i spotted #79, my bus. he was about to drive by me but slowed down and motioned to me and then stopped and said, hop on! i said, are you going to the jail? and could you give a shout out when we get there? he said no problem! hop on! there's a group in the back going there too in case i forget to shout out but i bet you i won't forget! all with this super big smile and a twinkle in his eye. he was a dubliner! it's a miracle! and he whistled the whole way there! as i got off the bus he honked when i started walking the wrong way and waited until i was going the right way before driving off. so nice!

now i'm totally beat but still have exploring to do. i'm drinking a wee cup of tea at my usual swank internet spot and finally feeling... content. stay tuned.

today is my last day here. i stayed up waaaay too late last night which is a shame because i'm sluggish on the most beautiful day i've had so far in ireland. i don't believe there's a cloud in the whole sky at present and it's just warm enough to walk around in a t-shirt but not too hot. gorgeous.

yesterday i went against my usual travel shtick-- i booked a bunch of rooms in advance. part of the fun for me while traveling is not really knowing where i'm going, but i've quickly figured out that places tend to book up fast here, especially hostels. so i have every night except one planned, and i'm pretty sure i know what town i'll be in on that one night but just don't know the hotel. here's my sched: kilkenny, cashel, kinsale (near cork), kenmare (near the ring of kerry), dingle (-town), galway, ennis, paris, boston. i leave this island in 20 days. ready... go!

i'm ok leaving dublin tomorrow. it's a wicked town with a whole lot to do so i've been nice and occupied. yesterday i left the bustle of town and headed out to the coast on the DART. i spent the afternoon in dun laoghraie (spelled wrong i'm sure) and soaked up the sun and the sound of the sea. it was lovely squared. i watched the ferry arrive from holyhead, wales, and depart a half hour later. it was a tad chilly in the wind but there was this tiny beach in sandycove (where james joyce's "ulysses" begins) about the size of my toe and it was packed with sunbathers and swimmers. a group of brave souls jumped off rocks into the crashing waves and ocean. superb. there was a james joyce museum but i skipped it because it was too nice to be inside.

when i got back to dublin (only about a 20 min train ride plus a 20 min walk back to the hostel), i was raggedly tired. i actually took a wee nap after a wee cup of tea. at 7, i met up with L, a girl i met from aubrey, australia, the night before. she told me her aussie friends from belfast were coming down to visit her and asked me to come out with them. a german guy, A, showed back up at the hostel after missing his plane home, so he joined us, too. thank god-- he was the only sane one in the group save myself.

good gravy, nearly every aussie i've met in my life drives the shit out of me in one way or another. i hate to even write that because i'm not one to generalize a whole people (save the french) but it's my blog so i'll write what i want. here goes. most aussies i've met are arrogant and brash and loud-- much like americans but with different accents and more chutzpah. last night's group fit the bill:

L is sweet, 25, and completely self absorbed. somehow all conversations lead back to her. friend no. 1, D, aka, GULL (no shit-- that's what people call him and although i don't use names in this blog i have to make an exception here for GULL because GULL is the most annoying fucking name and amusing at the same time and rather hard to say), had a tongue stud and greasy hair. GULL is one of those guys who plays this game in conversation where you say something--anything-- to him and he shows no reaction and says nothing for longer than the usual pause in regular conversation. do you know what i'm saying? i really hate that. it's so disrespectful and manipulative. and annoying. friend no. 2, J, was this wacked aussie who plays by no rules, has life totally figured out and enjoys Xtreme sports! yeah! needless to say, conversation wasn't exactly stimulating but it was amusing how J was so into astrology and attempted to read my palm.

it's a relaxing little town of about 10,000 people and a gorgeous castle. right now i'm in the back of a newsstand shop paying 5 cents a minute for "high speed" internet but it's moving pretty slow. i can't complain about the price, though. but i got rather used to my sleek internet cafe digs in dublin.

the bus ride out here was gorgeous. i don't think i've ever seen so many different shades of green. green green green and rolling hills and valleys and tiny streams going through all of it. just lovely. my hostel is hippie funky but i do have my own room, complete with a springy bed. i slept for about 10 hours last night as i was dog tired and am currently fighting a cold. so far i'm winning, knock on wood. i met some girls from virginia and we used the hostel's kitchen to make a simple spaghetti dinner. comfort food and extra cheap to boot. they were nice but had to leave early this morning to catch a ferry from dublin to wales and a train up to edinburgh. long day for them.

it's not rainy but it is a bit chilly-- first time i've been cold since i arrived in ireland. tomorrow i leave for cashel-- i have to take three buses to get there and it takes about 3 hours total-- funny cuz it's only about 60 miles away. the roads here are a real laugh-- super windy and in bad condition but it makes for interesting, scenic bus rides.

i'm due to stay in a dorm in the next hostel in cashel. i'm so done with hostels. the only upside is that i meet people, but i haven't really met many people as it is. yesterday i switched from a hostel to a b&b in kenmare-- more money but worth it to me just to have some privacy and comfort. it is vacation, after all.

speaking of hostels and why i'm DONE: yesterday i returned to the hostel in kilkenny when the manager asked me if i'd paid for that night's room yet. i said, yes, i paid the day before. well, apparently the sum i'd paid (40 euros) was for only one night and i still owed 40 euros for the second night. cash! i was staying in a private room that happened to have two beds and the manager explained to me that it was not 20 euros per person per night but rather 20 euros per bed per night, and since there were two beds in my room, i owed 80 euros (cash!) total. good gravy. i was stunned and had obviously heard wrong on the phone when i called to make a reservation. we worked out a deal and i paid 20 more euros instead of 40, but she was all annoyed and i felt like crying for about a minute. lordy. the hostel was waaaay funky for even 20 euros a night, no breakfast, scummy bathrooms, etc. anyway.

i did meet some french people staying at the hostel too, so we all went out for a beer and listened to some traditional irish music. it was rad and good to speak french again. it took me about 15 mintues to make my mouth work again, i was stuttering and sputtering all the words in french but then it was all good. i'm still fighting this cold so i called it a night at 11 but slept like shit nonetheless. some of the frenchies and i got breakfast together this morning and one of them, G, and i rode the same bus out of town-- he was heading to cork, me to cashel, where i am now. i got off at clonmel, waited three minutes, hopped another bus to cahir (pronounced like "care"), had an hour layover, got some lunch and then waited for the bus to cashel to show up.

at the bus stop i met a lovely lady who was full of bus riding factoids; where to buy my tickets, where to catch my bus, where to get off in cashel. she was going to cashel too, and the more we talked, the more i realized how sweet she was. she lived in vancouver and victoria, bc, and modesto, california, for a bunch of years. her name was sister jo and she personally walked me to my hostel here in cashel and told me where to get a quick lunch and tea. so nice!

i checked into the hostel and found out they had single rooms for a little bit more so i took it and took a two hour nap. luxury. so quiet! there's a kitchen so i scoped it to see if there was any community food like butter, salt, tea, whatever, so i wouldn't have to buy any of that tonight for making dinner. the kitchen was complete with two older men who abruptly stopped talking when i walked in. this sucks about hostels. weirdo men and school groups. i don't know which is worse. anyway, no community food so looks like it's spaghetti for me. i walked to the TI and saw sister jo again and she gave me a big hug. she comes to cashel every tuesday to visit her brother in a nursing home because he has parkinson's disease. he used to be a priest in stockton, california. i had some tea and realized that i'd checked into the wrong hostel. they have similar names-- one's in my guidebook and the other is on a flyer i picked up in dublin. luckily i have my own room here at this one and they take credit cards, but maybe the other one wouldn't have so many strange men walking around? and more people my own age? oh well. only two nights. won't kill me. heading to b&bs until galway. thank god. give me a tv and a nice bed and a huge irish breakfast and i'm a happy girl!

i'm a city girl by heart and nature. give me a city any day. that said, i do really enjoy the countryside-- the fresh air, beautiful views, cleanliness of it all. today i hiked up to see the rock of cashel. it was super spooky and deserted and the tour made it even cooler. it was cold at the top and rainy and foggy and in a shroud of clouds. just lovely. after the tour i walked down the hill to see hore abbey, a 12th century abandoned monk home in the middle of a field. the path to the abbey was clogged with cows from the neighboring farm. i'd seen a couple of people walk ahead of me and they clapped their hands and the cows dispersed and cleared the walkway. when i got about halfway down the walk, i gave a pitiful clap. the cows stared at me and didn't move. i know very little about cows, except that i like steak once in a while and i have milk in my tea and that cows are really quite large when you're standing only five feet away. so i stood there staring at the cows and they stared back at me. i could have walked around them but the grass off the path was super squishy and mucky and full of cow shit and it had been raining, so, going off the path wasn't an option, especially since i have only one pair of shoes. a farmer cutting his field smiled and laughed at me standing in the middle of his farm staring at the cows. yeah. i'm a real farm joke. finally the couple came back from the abbey and the man clapped his hands and the cows moved for him. i said, hi, i'm not really familiar with the cow phenomenon and he said, no problem, you just clap your hands and they move. simple. right. so i did. i clapped and walked forward like i knew what i was doing, like i was some kind of farm hand and the cows moved. i felt like i was parting the red sea. just click your heels and say there's no place like home. voila. and the abbey was cool. and on the way back i clapped my hands and the darn cows moved again. i rock.

it's a gorgeous day here in kinsale. i'm about 18 miles south of cork and it's lovely. a real tourist town, and i've been into every shop, but the sky is blue and the harbor is sparkling. it's rather crowded here today but it's sunday so i'm not surprised.

i arrived on thursday. my b&b does not have hot pots in the rooms for tea (as most of them do) but instead offers free coffee or tea in the breakfast room whenever you want it. each time i've had tea i end up talking with one of the women who work at the b&b-- usually for an hour or two. it's so nice! my room is pure luxury compared to the hostels i've been staying in and i feel like i'm experiencing more just by talking to those ladies over tea. at the hostels i haven't met many people and have paid a lot of money for funky, uncomfortable accomodations. for a little more money plus a humungoid breakfast, the b&bs are so much more worth it.

it was cold and damp and drizzly when i arrived-- i actually bought a little wool cap to keep warm-- but today i'm walking and walking and walking all over the place in a t-shirt. tuesday i head to dingle for five nights, then galway for four nights, then ennis for one night before i fly to paris for four nights. then home. i recently changed my hostel accomodations in galway to a b&b. it's the only way to go. i'm too old for hostels!

i'm a creature of habit. i like to do things the way i do things. it's a vice and a way of survival for me. case in point-- it's gorgeous out, but my creature of habit has taken over-- an internet cafe and a cup of tea beats out a walk around dingle, at least for the time being. maybe because i'm alone i need to be linked up, maybe because i need me time in this huge amount of me time i'm having in ireland. i need time to focus and see what's happening in the world through the news, my email, my blog.

so where to start? kinsale was lovely. i really enjoyed talking to the women who worked at my b&b. we met nearly every day for tea and biscuits and conversation. it made my time there really special and i finally felt like i'd made a connection with someone. so that's cool. monday morning i came down to breakfast and met a mother and son traveling together-- T and K-- he's a student in dublin and she was here for a visit. they had a car and invited me for a drive and i said yes. it was wonderful! i saw places i normally wouldn't have seen on the bus or even on a tour. we went to courtmacsherry, clonakilty, timoleague-- places i'd never heard of. it was a treat tooting around in a car and having new company to trade stories. i've developed a love for irish pottery and we stopped at a tiny shop and bought some. they reminded me of myself and dad traveling together-- adventurous, appreciative, fun-- the kind of people who say, let's turn down this road, who knows where it will lead? we saw an ancient stone circle at drombeg and it didn't rain. cool all around.

yesterday-- tuesday-- i caught a bus from kinsale to cork, then cork to tralee, then tralee to here (dingle). it took about five hours total and luckily i didn't have to wait at any station for more than 10 minutes (although that meant i missed lunch which always throws me off mood-wise). the ride from tralee to dingle was one of the most breathtaking sights i've seen in my life. it's up there with a drive from salerno to positano on the amalfi coast with my dad four years ago, and up there with the train ride i took from verona to salzberg-- the kind of drive where you're glued to the window and wish you had your camera and think holy shit how is it possible for there to be so much beauty in the world? it was hill after rolling hill in the most fabulous shade of green; grazing sheep, a bluff overlooking the atlantic, a windy narrow road with no guard rail and barely enough room for one car let alone two. that drive was worth my trip to ireland.

so typical for internet cafes-- i just typed this huge long lovely entry and had just named it and was ready to post when an "internet glitch" happened and the whole thing logged off. (aka, the chick at master controls hit a wrong button when logging someone else in and turned off my computer by mistake). such a sad frustrating feeling, but here goes, i'll type it all again. i wonder if it's possible to save as i go? dumb question but i'm a newby.

i switched b&bs. the new one is more like a hotel but it's clean and cheery and smack in the middle of town and has kick ass breakfasts. i had to tell a white lie to my host at the old b&b-- that i was going out with J since she had a car. i hated lying but i hated telling the truth more. of course, when i got back after breakfast that first day, she'd cleaned my bathroom, fixed the tv and gave me a space heater. and i bonded with her dog and had a nice chat with her husband. cue the catholic guilt music now. oh well-- it's good to break it up.

J and i had a great time at a concert in a church the other night-- trad. irish music in a small setting. illum pipes, flutes, guitar, the whole works. after the show we went to a pub for more music which was equally as cool. the pub music scene is hopping here and super informal-- often times you just get a pint and stand and listen. don't even have to interact with anyone.

yesterday i took a minibus tour to slea head and the dingle peninsula. it was stunning! perfect day-- not too hot but sunny and nifty clouds. being a northwest girl, it reminded me of home in a big way but so so so gorgeous. J and i met up again last night for pub music-- it was a different pub but happened to be the same musicians. they were good but you can tell they're still cutting their teeth a little. it was a group of brothers and a cousin-- all very young-- but their dad stepped in to play and he was excellent. a real treat. we met this guy who played illum pipes but explained to us he was too drunk to play at the moment because he'd been in that pub drinking all day. he was sobering up with cup after cup of tea.

today is a dub day-- so sunny it's hard to be inside. i've really lucked out with the weather-- hardly any rain and not too hot. perfect traveling weather. let's hope it lasts!

i took a walk at dusk yesterday down to the bay, near the cow fields and high tide. it's lovely having the time to think and ponder and empty my mind and listen to the wind.

not much to report today. the new digs here in dingle are lovely and quaint and quiet, everything you'd want in a b&b. i had options at breakfast and chose french toast-- such a nice change from the usual fried grease breakfast. it's another lovely day and sunny and dear, good for a walk or reading the papers and having a tea. which is what i plan to do. tomorrow is the long bus ride to galway.

i have four days left in ireland, including today, and eight days left in europe before flying home-- er, home to my mom's in maine via zurich and boston.

it's a gorgeous day. am i really in ireland? there's not a cloud to be found. i hope it lasts because i just booked a bus/ferry to the aran islands (inishmore) for tomorrow. should be lovely and crowded. i am looking forward to it. i'd like to get down to the cliffs of mohar on wednesday. i leave here thursday morning for ennis for one night and then to paris on friday morning.

i can sufficiently say that i am irelanded out. i've had enough shamrocks and pub grub and leprechans and penny whistles. i can't stomach anymore fried breakfasts but i am still enjoying the tea and scones. that being said, galway is a pretty neat town with plenty to do and not too much touristy shit. it feels more like a real town.

i feel like i've mastered the bus system, so i got that going for me.
yesterday i took a 6-hour bus ride from dingle to here and toward the end i was feeling pretty ragged. the last leg was spent talking to a guy named tony who talked my ear off and was way too smart for me, too cool for school, a real go-get-em kind of guy. he was working on a documentary for a local television station and had some interesting things to say, but dominated the conversation and just talked way too much. plus it was hot on the bus and no air conditioning and he was sitting right next to me. ugh. it made the bus ride go faster but then again, so does napping.

my b&b is decent-- my room is a closet and my bed is springy but at least it's not a hostel, so that's cool. i met a psychotherapist this morning at breakfast. she's from LA and her airline lost her luggage so she's on bare bones basics until she gets it back. she asked me a lot of questions, psychotherapist that she is.

i'm off to explore and get some sun. imagine, sun in ireland!

yesterday was kick ass. i booked a bus/ferry trip to inishmore, the largest of the aran islands. i had no expectations and actually had doubts-- it came down to a trip to the islands or the cliffs of moher. as it was, i had no expectations about the islands so i was pleasantly surprised. on the hour-long bus ride to the port, i sat next to a girl (also named N) and we yakked the whole way there, then more on the ferry to the island. she's from NYC and a real kick. once we got to the island we hired a minibus coach tour for 10 euros that took us to dun angus (totally misspelled!!)-- an ancient celtic fort overlooking the atlantic. we walked to the edge of the cliff-- 300 feet up-- and crawled on our bellies to the edge. what a rush! it was dizzyingly fun. my brain was telling me there was no way i could fall or topple over-- i wouldn't topple forward if i was laying on the ground anywhere else-- but my gut was silently pleading with me to get up. what a stunning view and feeling-- ocean for as far as i could see. we lay there for about 10 mintues just talking about where we were and how crazy it was.

after the cliffs we had a stellar lunch and toured the rest of the island. i lost track of her before i caught the boat back and thought i'd never see her again cuz we didn't exchange emails or anything. but on a fluke i met her in a convenience store while she was buying trashy magazines and i was buying a phone card. it's nice to meet people along my way, but it's a treat when i meet wicked cool people i'd like to hang out with again. most people i meet are good just for a day (or an hour).

so i'm not making it out to the cliffs of moher. another time. all i wanted to do was lay on my stomach over a cliff wall and i did. and it rocked!

i'm in ennis, a small town near the shannon airport. my flight leaves at 11 tomorrow morning. luckily it only takes about a half hour to get there by bus, and my B&B is a four minute walk from the bus station.

am i sad it's my last day in ireland? not really. i'll miss all the tea and cadbury and being able to understand everyone and having nice, genuine conversations with strangers. but soon enough i'll have that at home.

i'm a little anxious to get home. i haven't been in america in nearly 10 months and i'm sure not much has changed except the price of gas. the psychotherapist and i discussed things we don't like about the usa at breakfast this morning, and here are some of the things we came up with: american anxiety, obesity, big cars and trucks hogging the road, too much fast food, constantly being inundated with stuff, too much consumerism, advertisements, impatience, stupidity, the lack of intellectual, stimulating conversation and aggressive, in-your-face people who are too picky about what goes in their starbucks. in a nutshell. it's depressing to think about but at the same time it's home, and i have to say there are a lot of things i'm looking forward to. (when mentioning the bad things on the phone to my mother this morning she said, oh god, am i going to have to listen to this for a month as you readjust??? and i said, maybe, but it doesn't give me free reign to bitch, so not to worry, ma.)

i do like how i can do whatever and be whatever in america-- i can walk down the street in my pajamas and not turn a head, i can use my debit card on a pack of gum and i can order a no-cheese pizza. not that i plan on doing any of these things (although i am looking forward to getting my debit card working again). i'm also looking forward to not calculating euros to dollars in my head all the time and i'm excited to drink dr. pepper again.

in ireland most people are dressed up to just go shopping-- nice-- i feel like a shlubby in my travel clothes. in france, people are so polite-- they always say hello and goodbye and excuse me, even to weirdos they don't want to talk to. i do like how everything is on the go in america, but i haven't missed rushing and i've learned a certain amount of patience, which was my weakest virtue.

mostly what i want to do is see my family and boyfriend and friends again and enjoy being back where i know things but am eager to learn new things-- eager to meet more people and try new bars and just do more things in my hometown.

it's weird that it's coming down to it, that my time here is almost up. but it's ok. it has to be, at least for now-- it's unavoidable. i need to find a job to pay off the credit card bill, i need to change clothes and not live out of a bag, i need to buy groceries and not eat out all the time. i need my own bed, at least for a little while. at least until the next something comes along. who knows what that will be? i'm eager to find out. on verra.