I spent the entire day doing work and going to class but by 9:15, I was more than ready to go out and have a pint of cider or Guinness!  Simone, Melanie, Ivie and I went to Corcoran, the Irish Pub we had gone to a few weeks ago.  It was absolutely packed, but we managed to get in within a few minutes of arriving.  Ordering beers was another story, but after about 20 minutes, we were all clutching overflowing pints of green Magner’s.

We pushed our way to the back, where two Irishmen were playing guitars and singing a mixture of American & Irish songs…and a random, scary German song.  They were a lot of fun to watch and were clearly enjoying themselves and the intensity of the crowd.

Even though I wasn’t able to go to Dublin as I had originally planned (before finding out that I had a presentation to do in one of my classes), it was still nice to find a little piece of Ireland here in Paris by way of this crowded little Irish pub near my apartment.

I got up early and saw Chrissy off to the Aran Islands, and then I decided to explore Galway some more on my own.  I walked around the St. Nicholas Collegiate Church, which was really pretty.  I checked out the Spanish Arch, which was interesting.  I wanted to check out a couple of museums, too, but they weren’t open at that hour.  After I did some last minute sightseeing, I bought myself a pair of Connemara wool socks (I’m in love), my Ireland shot glass, and a few postcards.  I made my way over to the bay to admire the Claddagh one more time before leaving, and sat there for about 20 minutes, just to drink it all in one last time.

I decided to grab some tea and bite at the G.B.C. (Galway Bakery Company).  Their vegetable soup was pretty good, but the sandwich was nothing to write home about.  The tea, however, was delicious, and once again, that feeling of “home” washed over me as I sipped.  I wrote in my journal and did some hardcore people watching from my window seat.  I must’ve been there for about an hour before I realized I should probably head over to the bus station.

My bus trip only cost 1 euro (woohoo!), took three and a half hours, and brought me directly to the Dublin Airport.  I had to sit in the airport for a bit (I took the earlier bus since it was 12 euro cheaper), so I grabbed a latte at Starbucks.  Have I mentioned how much I miss that stupid coffeeshop?  Drinking my vanilla latte was like drinking in “home,” so it was quite nice.  I grabbed my last scone and sandwich at this little airport cafe called O’Briens, and started walking towards my gate.  I finally boarded my ridiculous-looking blue-and-yellow Ryanair plane around 7, and waved good-bye to my green little country as the plane took off.  A coulple of hours later, I was back in Beauvais and boarding my shuttle bus.

As I struggled to keep my eyes open, and I managed to catch a glimpse out of the bus window.  What I saw was beautiful: the larget, reddest, fullest moon I have ever seen in my entire life.  I couldn’t help but smile and think, Paris ain’t so bad, herself.

Today, Chrissy and I woke up with the intention of going on a tour to Connemara and the Aran Islands.  We went to the terminal where the tour was supposed to meet, when alas, we discovered that the tours for this specific company would not be running until it was warmer.  Somewhat panicked, we ran back towards our hostel to talk to the other Aran Islands tour companies, only to discover that the shuttles had already left, and that there was no way we would make it to the port in time to catch the ferry over.  We were both bummed, but I was especially bummed because I wouldn’t get the chance to do the tour; Chrissy is planning on going tomorrow morning, but I have to head back to Paris.

We quickly decided on another plan of attack, and booked a cheap tour of the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher with Healy Tours for the day.  We stopped in the Burren first, at an Irish farmer’s little house.  His little house sat on acres and acres of Burren land, and he gave us a tour of the land, discussed some of the history behind it, and told us some great stories along the way.  It was pretty cool actually climbing the “rolling” mountain, even though there were a lot of rocks and it was difficult at times.  I didn’t realize how much grass there actually was in the Burren until I was walking in it; from afar, it looks like almost the entire area is covered with rocks.  After this little tour, our guide invited us into his house for some of his mother’s homemade apple pie and carrot cake.  Yum?  It’s one of the most incredible experiences when you are invited into someone else’s home to dine; I loved every second of it.

After this little diversion, we hopped back on the bus and began to head towards the famous Cliffs of Moher.  Our driver, as much as he loves them, is a bigger fan of a smaller set of cliffs that is about 20 minutes away from the Moher ones.  We got out, took in the beauty of Galway Bay, captured some photos of it, and then we got back on the bus to head towards our lunch destination.

We stopped at Fitzpatrick’s Pub in Doolin, which was a cute little place.  I got another delicious bowl of seafood chowder, and the BEST brown bread of the entire trip!  It was so dense and filling and tasty, I wanted the piece to last forever.  Does one ever get enough of this hearty Irish food?!

The idea that the world is actually a small place was proven to me AGAIN in that fateful little pub.  As Chrissy and I were eating, I looked over at the table next to us, and I caught eyes with a girl who looked extremely familiar.  Turns out, Morgan goes to BC, too, and was visiting her friend Elizabeth, who is currently studying abroad in Galway!  What were the odds that they were on our tour, of all tours?!  We caught up as we finished our lunch, figured out where we knew each other from, and proceeded to have a nice little chat as we made our way to the Cliffs of Moher.

After lunch, we finally arrived at the Cliffs.  Although it was my second trip (the first was in junior year of high school), this time was so much more incredible and overwhelming.  The skies were as blue as could be, the clouds were fluffy, white, and few, and the visibility was the best it could ever possibly be.  As a result, I was able to see for miles in all directions; I saw the Aran Islands, the Twelve Pins, and the Irish countryside, and I couldn’t seem to drink it in fast enough.

We were all exhausted at this point, and had a very sleepy ride back to Galway.  Along the way we stopped to look at Dunguire Castle, one of a dozen true remaining roof thatchers actually thatching his roof, and some silly Irish llamas.

Finally back in Galway, Chrissy and I realized we were pretty hungry, so we went to a cute little Restaurant/Pub called The Front Door, which I’m pretty sure was my favorite restaurant in Galway.  Our waiter (who I’m pretty sure was the owner as well) was so incredibly friendly, and we ended up having a nice talk with him for 20 minutes, about pretty much anything and everything.  He recommended I try the shepherd’s pie, which I did…boy, was that tasty.  So incredibly filling though; between the food and my pint of Bulmer’s, I was stuffed by the time we got back to our hostel.

We rested for a bit, and then I met up with Elizabeth and Morgan at Elizabeth’s apartment, which was adorable.  We went to Taaffe’s for a while, had some Baby Guinnesses & Bulmer’s, and ended up meeting a friendly Irish guy and his Spanish lady friend.  They bought us a couple of round (how kind!), and we set off for another bar, 953.  We ran into a few more BC girls outside the bar, who were on their way to a club called Cuba.  And so off to Cuba we went!  It was pretty fun, but the three of us were tired and left kinda early.  We stopped in Supermac’s so that I could grab a snack, and ended up meeting a drunk 15-year old knucklehead, to whom I introduced myself as Betty from Utah.  Good times.

It was so nice hanging out with these girls; I love running into awesome people in foreign cities, which seems to be turning into a habit of mine…

We arrived in Galway a couple of hours later, and ours smiles grew as we stepped out into the sunshine in Eyre Square.  Our hostel, called the Kinlay House Hostel, was a “1 minute” walk from the station.  We checked in, dropped our luggage off and chatted with the desk attendant about the city, picking his brain about what we should do.  He told us to take advantage of the weather and walk along the coast, which is exactly what we did.  It was breathtakingly beautiful, and my nose was going crazy with the smell of the salty air; it reminded me so much of being at LBI with my family.  I found a little park, and went on the swings for a while (honestly one of the best decisions I have made in the past several months).  There is just something so peaceful and comforting about the easy gait of swinging; pump your feet just a little bit, and off you go, forward and backward, forward and backward, flying through the air.

We were both starting to get hungry, and we found a cute little restaurant on Quay Street called the Spanish Arch, which was apparently part of the Spanish Arch Hotel.  We ordered some tea to start, and I finally realized why exactly tea is such a large part of Irish culture; when I took a sip of this tea, I felt like I was home.  It was so warming, so nourishing, so…welcoming, almost.  Chrissy and I went through two whole pots, enjoying each sip more than the last.  We ordered some lunch, too, and both had seafood chowder and ham & cheese sandwiches.  The seafood chowder was the best I had tasted, with fresh shrimp and salmon, and a bit of chorizo, too.

Instead of doing intense sightseeing, we decided to have a relaxing day.  We walked around the city, perused the cute stores lining Quay Street, Shop Street, and the surrounding area, and strolled through Eyre Square.  Chrissy bought an adorable pair of red Keds (jealous), and we both got little pastries from Griffin’s Bakery.  Sometime in the late afternoon, we went back to the hostel to freshen up before dinner.

We talked to a different desk attendant this time, and asked him about the best places to eat a traditional Irish dinner (as if I hadn’t had enough stew already).  He recommended Monroe’s Tavern, and off we went.  I had another delicious Irish stew, this one with beef and a Guinness base; so tasty! I also had some brown bread and a pint of Bulmer’s (hehe).

After we finished our dinner and pints, we decided to head out to the pubs.  First, we went to the Quays (excellent recommendation by my friend Mike), which was a great, multi-level, traditional Irish pub with traditional Irish music.  While Chrissy and I were sipping our pints, I looked up and was astonished to see my friend Doug walking down the stairs.  It made me realize what a small world it is; out of all of the countries, cities, and pubs we could have been in at the same time, we were in the same one.  Crazy!  We had a nice chat before he went off to dinner.  After spending some time at the Quays, we went to another pub called Tig Coili, which my friend Stevie recommended to me!  We both loved this one, and tried a shot Kelsey told us about, called the Baby Guinness.  It consisted of Kahlua and Bailey’s…wow.  Party.  In.  My mouth.  It was the best alcoholic beverage I have ever tasted, which could possibly be dangerous if I decide to invest in a bottle of each of these.  After Tig Coili, we went to Taaffe’s for one last pint.  We were exhausted at this point, so by the time we had finished our beers, we decided to head back to our hostel.

On the walk home, I had a realization: my heart was made for Galway.  I had fallen head over heels in love with its quaintness, its charm, and its location on the coast.  The smells and the people simply made this incredible little city feel like home.

After breakfast, we met up with our group and guide for our tour of the Wicklow mountains.  We were going with OVER THE TOP Tours, which had great reviews because of its smaller sized tours; they could only take 16 people maximum due to their smaller buses.  As we drove through Dublin to leave the city, our guide told us a bit about Irish history, which I found absolutely fascinating.

Our first stop was a little town on the coast called Bray.  Our guide told us that it used to be a really popular vacation town several decades ago, but that it slowed down once people started going to cities along the Mediterranean.  It was still beautiful, and he made us tea & cookies for a late morning snack.

After a while, we were once more cruising along the coast and eventually started our ascent into the Wicklow Mountains.  Before we knew it, we arrived at Guinness Lake!  It was absolutely breathtaking; the lake was black, and the narrow, sandy beach provided a contrast to the lake, making it indeed look like a pint of Guinness.  It was set in a valley with mountains behind it, and supposedly the property right by the beach is owned by a descendent of Arthur Guinness, who started the company.  After this, we drove a bit further along the road and came to Glenmacnass Waterfall, which was more of a trickle than waterfall, but beautiful nonetheless.

Next, we went to the Monastery in Glendalough, which was pretty cool because it was built in the 6th century by St. Kevin.  We walked through the old settlement and made our way around the two lakes.  Again, these lakes were located in the midst of the beautiful Wicklow Mountains, and the views were incredible.  We took so many pictures, and Chrissy and I actually ended up making friends with a couple of Scottish guys.  We asked one of them to take our picture, and he looked at my lens, and playfully said I was a “disgrace to camera owners everywhere” because of how dirty it was.  We both laughed as he proceeded to whip out his lens cloth and some other handy tool he used to give my lens a good thorough cleaning.  EVERYONE IS JUST SO FRIENDLY.

On our way back, we drove around the largest man-made lake in Western Europe, which I thought was pretty neat.  Apparently the guy who built it (can you build a lake? I don’t really know how to phrase that) didn’t even bother to knock down the houses that remained, and instead just let the water bring them to ruins as he filled it.

We returned to Dublin around 5:45, and even though we were exhausted, we managed to sprint to Queen of Tarts.  We had a dinner scheduled for 6:45, and Chrissy wanted to make sure she got a little taste of heaven before we left for Galway.  The two of us decided on apple scones, which were just as delicious as the carrot cake I tried yesterday.  Happily munching on our scones, we walked toward The Brazen Head to grab a pint before our special dinner.  The Brazen Head is the oldest pub in Dublin, and it was also my favorite.  It had a smaller, cozier atmosphere than some of the other bars we went to, and the bartenders were extremely friendly.  We nursed our pints of Bulmer’s while waiting for 6:45 to roll around, and when it finally did, we made our trek up the stairs to our special dinner: Food, Folklore and Fairies!

I read incredible things about this special dinner performance.  Not only was the food supposed to be amazing, but also the stories and the storyteller himself.  The little dining room was candlelit and gave off such a cozy atmosphere, and Johnny was so welcoming!  He told us all about the history of the Irish potato, the famine, and Irish migration.  He regaled us with tales of Irish fairies and the role they have played throughout history.  He poked and prodded at our imaginations as he recounted other stories that have been passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years.  Throughout all of these stories, I was eating a delicious, traditional Irish meal of fish cakes, stew, and apple pie.  I could not have been happier.

Hours later, we emerged with full bellies and the intent to grab a few pints before heading back to our hostel!  We walked toward the Temple Bar, and stumbled upon a fun-filled pub called Mulligans.  We had some more Bulmer’s and enjoyed the live (American?) music while chatting with some Londoners and Irishmen.  We then moved on to the Temple Bar itself, which was so incredibly crowded that it was difficult to move.  I actually wasn’t the biggest fan; on top of the crowd, the bartenders weren’t that friendly and it was difficult to get a drink.  At least we checked it out, though!

We strolled back to our hostel, and I was so exhausted that I’m pretty sure I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Anyways, we finally boarded the plane, and as we took off, I marveled at the adorable innocence of children around the world.  In front of my, there was a little English boy telling his mother he thought that clouds were the consistency of cotton candy.  Behind me, there was a boy telling his father that he wanted to be a professional traveler when he grew up.  They were both so adorable.  I didn’t get a chance to listen to them very much, because within minutes, I was passed out, most likely with my tongue hanging out and a wee bit of spittle beginning to form at the corner of my mouth (kidding…sort of).

Before I knew it, the pilot was announcing our arrival in Dublin.  I got off the train and felt a smile bubbling up.  Everything was in English!  It felt as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulders; I hadn’t realized how stressful it was to constantly be thinking in French and trying to figure out how to ask for directions, advice, and suggestions from people, until I no longer had to do it.  In addition, I saw these weird, shimmering white things on people’s faces…teeth?  Could it be?  Were people actually…smiling?!  Yes, genuine smiles, even early in the morning.  Hell, even the simple thought that I was in Ireland was enough to put that large, dopey grin on my face.

I hopped on a bus to get to the heart of Dublin, and just missed the walking tour I wanted to go on.  I managed to find the tourist information office and grabbed a map and some brochures.  I thought I knew where I was going, but as I’m directionally challenged, I ended up on a random street corner, holding my map upside-down (and probably inside-out) trying to figure out where I was headed.  I must have had an absolutely bewildered look on my face, because a kind-looking older man came up to me and said, You look like you could use a bit of direction! To which I responded YES PLEASE!  And with that, kind old Jerry began leading me to the bus stop, which was easily a 10-minute walk out of his way.  We discussed some Irish history, the best places to grab a pint and eat fish & chips, and he was the nicest stranger I’ve encountered in months.  I mean, geez, ask for directions in Paris and you get scowled at!  Talk about a difference!

Anyways, I got on my bus (thank you, Jerry) and was off toward Kilmainham Gaol.  I made it just in time for the guided tour, where I learned a lot of interesting things about both the jail and Irish history.  The jail was built in 1796, and operated as a prison for around 130 years until 1926.  Our tour guide told us that children as young as seven years old were imprisoned for crimes such as petty theft, which I still can’t get over.  I’ll spare you the rest of the history…

After taking some spooky photos in the jail, I made the 15-minute walk to the famous Guinness Storehouse!  I was overwhelmed by how tall it was – seven stories, and shaped like a pint of Guinness to boot!  The tour itself was self guided, and I learned all about the ingredients in Guinness (barley, hops, yeast, water!) and how they are combined to make the perfect pint.  The tour culminated in a free pint of Guinness in the Gravity Bar, which is the 7th floor of the building.  It offered amazing views of Dublin, so I snagged a seat by the window and looked out onto the city sprawling in front of and beneath me.  It was incredible.

I slowly enjoyed my pint, and eventually decided to make my way from the Storehouse to my hostel.  After a lovely 40 minute stroll through Dublin, I arrived at Isaacs Hostel.  Chrissy had actually done the research on hostels, and I must say, she did a great job.  It was located only 5 minutes from O’Connell Street, and about 10 minutes from Temple Bar.  The hostel itself was really nice, new and clean, and the desk staff was extremely helpful and friendly.

After I dropped my stuff off, I decided to explore the city some more.  I walked down O’Connell Street and peered into the storefronts (English bookstore? SO AMAZING).  I walked by the beautiful Trinity College.  I walked down Dame Street, and “accidentally” stumbled upon a little pastry shop Kelsey highly recommended, called Queen of Tarts.  I knew I simply had to go in, so I ordered some of their famous carrot cake.  I (very carefully) shoved it into my purse to save it for after dinner (pretty sure I looked ridiculous carrying around a piece of carrot cake, but…well, that’s just me).  Carrot cake upright in tow, I decided to check out Beshoff on O’Connell Street.  This was the fabulous fish and chips place that Jerry recommended earlier in the day, so I had high expectations.  I ordered the cod and chips (even though I think Jerry told me the haddock was where it was at), and was very pleased with the delicious greasiness of the meal.

With a tum full of fish and chips, I decided to head over to the Celt on Talbot Street to wait for Chrissy, who was due in within a couple hours.  It was an adorable little Irish pub with live music and great beers on tap.  I tried Cashel’s, which the bartender told me was similar to the Bulmer’s I originally ordered.  Lo and behold, I discovered my affinity for cider!  I had a few pints and ended up talking to the bartender and to a Scottish girl and her mom.  I still can’t get over how friendly every one is!  After a few hours in the Celt, I was feeling pretty sleepy, so I headed back to the hostel.  Chrissy made it eventually, and the two of us decided to call it a night so that we’d be recharged and ready to roll for our tour of the Wicklow Mountains early the next morning.

After less than 24 hours in Dublin, I was already wondering why I didn’t choose Trinity College instead…

I heard about this great guided tour out of Dublin to Wicklow, run by OVER THE TOP Tours.  I’ve been e-mailing back and forth with the woman, and I called her today to give her my credit card info to make the final reservation.  We had a GREAT chat; she used to live in France for 5 years when she was younger, and we were talking about how cold some French people can be, and how excited I was to go to Ireland, where most people are ready and waiting to help you with a smile.  Sweetest e-mail response after, too, telling me how “lovely it was to chat.”

Note to all those who care about me/will be looking for me: I might go to Ireland and never come back.