As of late!

I've fallen so far behind! Since Aberdeen, things have been quiet over here. We've had some due dates for class assignments (because we are going to school here, after all) and have spent many hours working in the dorm. Last Saturday Aditya, Kalli, and I finally managed to go dancing at Dandelion and had a great night! The drinks were outragously expensive (over 6 euro for a Bud Light is too much, I don't care if it is an import here) and some of the music wasn't quite our taste, but it was FUN. Good mix of people, great dance floor, and a beautiful bar. We couldn't have asked for a better night in an Irish club.

This past Monday I took myself to the National Gallery of Ireland and tried my best to absorb some artsy culture. I'm a big advocate of going to art museums alone - you can linger in front of whatever paintings you choose for as long as you like and you get to look at only what you want to see. Best way to do it, I promise.

This week, Aditya's parents were in town and we had our first opportunity to get out of the city in quite a while. Yesterday we took a day tour of the Hill of Tara and Newgrange. The Hill of Tara is near the River Boyne and was once the seat of the High King of Ireland. Today, it's mostly just a hill: no ruins remain, just beautiful scenery. On a clear day (and yesterday was a sunny clear day) you can see 3/4 of Ireland from the top of the hill. I will never get enough of this gorgeous Irish scenery.

From the Hill of Tara we trekked to Newgrange and Oh. My. God. Newgrange is tied for first on Colleen's List of Great Things to See in Ireland. I've been patiently waiting to see Newgrange after our failed attempt earlier in the semester and it was definitely worth that wait.

Newgrange is part tomb, part astrological observatory. Built over 5,000 years ago, it is older than the Pyramids in Egypt and Stonehenge. It is a designated World Heritage Site by UNESCO. In short, it is the oldest, man made, standing, functional building on Earth.

So what is Newgrange? It's a mound built into the ground with a beautiful limestone front facade. It was possibly used as a tomb, as archeologists found the cremated remains of 5 people inside, but it is best known for it's astrological significance. At 8:58am on the winter solstice every year, a narrow beam of sunlight enters a box cut out above the entrance to the tomb. As the sun rises, the light travels through the tomb, eventually lighting the entire chamber, before it fades back out. The entire process takes 17 minutes. A lottery is held each year to draw names to view the winter solstice from Newgrange.

The accuracy of this is what amazed me the most. Assumptions about stone age people are generally very negative - they were undeveloped, uneducated, ignorant people. I can't believe that claim anymore, not after learning about the accuracy with which Newgrange was constructed. To stand inside of a tomb which is positioned in exactly the right place to celebrate the winter solstice every year . . . great study and care went into the construction of Newgrange. It took an understanding of their environment and the calendar year that we cannot grasp.

Aside from the astrological significance of Newgrange, not much is known about it. Carvings decorate the stone inside, though no one knows for certain what they mean. Nothing is known about the remains of individuals found inside, about why the tomb marks the winter solstice, or about what ceremonies took place there.

Newgrange is flanked by two other mounds, neither of which can be entered. Dowth marks the sunset on the winter solstice, in a similar fashion to the phenomenon in Newgrange. Knowth has east-west passageways for the sun to mark the equinox.

So what does the interior look like? We weren't allowed to take photos inside of Newgrange, which was unfortunate. The entrance is very low and very narrow - and becomes increasingly smaller as you go deeper into the tomb. You walk up a gradual incline to the central chamber, which is about 2 meters higher than the entrance. As you enter the tomb, you walk throug a series of stone arches, each becoming gradually shorter and narrower (by the last arch, my shoulders were too wide to fit through and I had to enter sideways).

The stone comes from the Wickow Mountains, many, many miles down south. There are over 400 boulders which weigh over 1 ton each; the means used to move the stone were rudimentary at best. The wheel had not yet been invented, and it is estimated it would take at least 80 men to lift one stone.

This passageway leads to a large chamber which three small inlets flanking the room. The ceiling is fascinating. It creates an arched dome above you, constructed entirely of loose rock - no mud, clay, or any cement-style fixture holding it in place (which isn't exactly what you want to hear when standing under it). The stones constructing the ceiling are a series of large boulders, then a layer of small rocks, then massive boulders, then small rocks. The small rocks act as shock absorbers to prevent the larger stones from crushing themselves.

The stone inside is decorated with carvings - concentric circles, zig-zags, and diamonds. No one knows what they mean or why they are there, but they are beautiful to see. Of course, there are also initials carved all over the place from visitors 100 years ago, before it was a protected site. As our tour guide said, graffiti has always existed, the means have just developed from chisels to spray paint . . .

Each small inlet contained stone hearths which housed the remains. The most fascinating inlet contained a large, ridiculously smooth, boulder which can only be described as a giant soapdish. These inlets were also decorated with carvings.

I'm so happy to have finally seen Newgrange and I can't express enough my excitement for the site. It's best seen in person and all who haven't seen it should make an effort to do so!

Cheers!

1.5 days in Aberdeen, Scotland

I'll be honest, I hadn't heard of Aberdeen, Scotland before Kalli pitched the idea of visiting the city. I bought the plane ticket on a whim for 20 euro (20 euro!!!) and didn't do any research into Aberdeen before deciding to go there. (See the trust I have in you, Ms. Bennett?)

To my delight, Aberdeen is a wonderful city. It's nicknamed The Granite City, and it's abundantly clear why - everything there is made from granite. All buildings are a wonderful gray stone and, though I'm sure things get a little drab around the January/February time of the year, we were blessed with sunshine for our visit and it made for a very scenic city centre.

No major adventures to speak of, just lots of fun. We went there with no plan, no rush to do anything. I think it was the most relaxed trip I have ever taken, and it was perfect.

Aberdeen is quite tiny. We arrived in Scotland early Thursday, November 11, and after dropping our bags off at a Holiday Inn, we covered all of city centre on foot easily. We picked up a tiny, ink-jet printer map from the local tourism office and set out to see what there was to do. We found churches, parks, graveyards, shopping, cafes (one with a delightful used bookstore inside) and lots of restaurants. It was a relaxing day, with our site-seeing not going much past stepping inside some churches and stores. We took a break late-afternoon so that the three of us could indulge in a bit of TV in the hotel just before dinner (there's something amazing about access to MTV when you've been separated from pop culture for 3 months).

Dinner that night was delicious Thai food. The restaurant was around the corner from our hotel and as we took a gander at the menu on the front door, a group of 20-somethings walked passed us into the restaurant. Aditya stopped them to ask if the restaurant was worth it, and a girl promptly told us this was the best Thai restaurant in Aberdeen. She was right: the cheesy decor, bad music, and delicious noodles made for a great dinner. From there we visited the Justice Mill (appropriately named, no?) for a beer sampler (The World's Biggest Real Ale and Cider Festival!) and some good conversation. Thursday was a great introduction to Aberdeen.

Friday included a lot more time on foot. We walked many kilometers that day, taking ourselves from city centre to Old Aberdeen. We walked cobbled streets, visited King's College, and found our way to the Cathedral Church of St. Machar and Seaton Park. The cathedral was really beautiful and a lot less ornate than all of the others I've seen thus far on this trip. It was stunning in it's simplicity and seemed to place more emphasis on its connection to the community than the greater church. The ceiling was adorned with various Scottish crests and displays showing community activities were posted throughout the sanctuary.

From the Cathedral we followed the River Don in Seaton Park (and we may or may not have stopped to carve our initials into a tree . . . ) to the Brig O' Balgownie, a 14th century granite and sandstone bridge. I marveled over the fact that something so old was still holding us up quite sturdily (what do they build today that will last 600 years??) and we paused to take photos. The Brig O' Balgownie was a very quaint end to a very quaint day.

Lunch was at a place which appeared to be the Scottish version of TGI Fridays - we indulged in a greasy bliss. I ordered some mac and cheese, Aditya a large burger, Kalli some chicken fingers. Delicious. Our looooong walk back to town culminated in a visit to the Mercat Cross, then tea at Cocoa. That night we found ourselves back at the Justice Mill for dinner and a few more drinks, and before we knew it we were back in Dublin the next day. What a wonderful weekend!

The Cliffs of Moher

Our third day in Galway was much more pleasant. The weather agreed with us on Sunday - it wasn't sunny, but there was no rain and no fog. It was the best we could have asked for.

We took a very generic bus tour of the Cliffs of Moher. Generic or not, it had some great benefits: (1) it was a warm coach bus; (2) it was cheap; (3) it took us to a lot more than just the Cliffs. The most significant downside to the entire operation: the couple sitting behind seemed to be in the process of breaking up. Even this wasn't really a downside - we listened to (and chuckled at) a ridiculous fight and were amused by anonymous drama. Fantastic.

The bus first took us through the Burren Hills, a beautiful bit of geography on the west coast. The hills are covered in limestone and were once under the ocean, as evidenced by fossils found in the mountains. They are easily the least-green thing we've seen since our arrival. The hills are still entirely covered in rocks; the only green patches were those that were cleared by farmers. And those ingenious farmers, wouldn't you know it, made fantastic rock walls out of all those hunks of limestone they had to remove. Called dry rock walls, these walls are made entirely out of stacked rocks. No cement, no wire, no adhesive of any kind. They are incredibly even in height (uniformly about waist high), solidly stacked, and still made to this day.

From the Burren Hills to a stop for lunch to the Cliffs of Moher!!

The Cliffs are fantastic. If you have not seen them in person, you really need to, because these photos cannot begin to do them justice. The cliffs rise about 685 feet high and jut out into the Atlantic Ocean. It's a sheer drop; the cliffs are very straight and create what can't be any less than a 90 degree angle with the water. Moss covers parts of them, waves are constantly crashing at their feet, and starkly white seagulls circle their bases incessantly. The height of the cliffs cannot be captured on film (er, jpeg) nor can the grandeur of the view. We wandered the top of the cliffs for an hour and every time I turned around I seemed to be taking in a view that was even more beautiful than the one before.


I know that I'm witnessing something truly beautiful when it pains me to walk away from it, and I felt a tug in my belly when we had to leave the Cliffs. My ideal trip? Visiting something breathtakingly beautiful - be it city or scenery - and being able to sit. And stare. For hours. Sitting and staring for long enough that I could truly absorb what I'm looking at, long after I've taken all the photos and explored all of the terrain on foot. I could have stared at the Cliffs all day.

Alas, this wasn't an option as our bus left promptly 1 hour and 15 minutes after our arrival. Bummer!

From the Burren Hills to a stop for lunch to the Cliffs of Moher!! to . . . Pulnabrone Portal Tomb?

This was an unexpected stop for us on the bus tour. The tomb is in the Burren Hills and dates back to the Neolithic period. Excavations by University College Galway found the remains of 16 adults and 6 children. I'm endlessly fascinated by ancient objects which continue to stand and was pleasantly surprised by this stop on our bus tour. It made for a great short and sweet photo opp!

After the tomb we carried on through the hills to Aillwee Cave. The cave is in the hills and was once a home to hibernating ancient bears. It was discovered in 1940 by a farmer, Jack McGann, whose dog ran into the cave. He explored as much of the cave by himself as he could and then kept it a secret for thirty years. In the 1970s he spilled the beans to some archeologists visiting the area, and by 1976 the cave was open to the public.

I've visited caves before and knew what to expect here. Stalactites. Stalagmites. Columns formed by stalactites meeting stalagmites. A random waterfall, markings from the river that used to run through the cave, and interesting rock formations. And, of course, turning off all of the lights in the cave to experience true absence of light (that's always my favorite part). I felt the weight on my shoulders when they told me just how many tons of limestone were sitting on top of us, and I imagined all the mystery that lay in the cave beyond were explorers were able to reach. The visit was a great stop on the tour. We weren't able to hike through the Burren Hills (which I would have loved to do) but this provided a nice alternative. It was a great opportunity to see what was (quite literally) in the hills.

SO! From the Burren Hills to a stop for lunch to the Cliffs of Moher!! to Poulnabrone Portal Tomb to Aillwee Cave. It was a full, full day and the perfect tour. Our driver was great, the bus was warm (I mention this again because that was so, so important after our trip to the Aran Islands) and the sights were spectacular. En route to Galway City our driver pulled over so that we could photograph a castle which shall rename nameless (because I cannot for the life of me remember which particular castle this was). Within a short time, however, we were back in town and settled in another coach bus. This one took us back to Dublin. From one coast to another, in 3 hours flat. You can't beat that :)

Me, perfectly (and obliviously) blocking the castle with my umbrella - a photo I have posted only because I know how it will amuse all who know me. See the actual castle below:

The sea was angry that day, my friends.

We finally made it to the west coast! Last weekend was a short trip out to County Galway to visit Galway City, the Aran Islands, and the Cliffs of Moher. It turned out to be a fantastic (albeit chilly and wet) weekend!

Friday was spent in Galway City. It fell somewhere between our expectations - Aditya was expecting a smaller Dublin, I was expecting the standard quaint, seaside town. It wasn't as big and urban as Dublin, but it definitely has more going on than Bray or Dun Laoghaire. We spent the afternoon in the town wandering. We took in the Spanish Arch, the Galway City museum (which actually had a fairly interesting exhibit about JFK's visit to Galway), a cathedral, and a little bit of shopping. I've been missing reading material while I've been here and I finally stumbled across a wonderful used bookstore. It reminded me of Magers and Quinn Bookstore in Minneapolis (which is my favorite used bookstore of all time). It had shelves and shelves of old books (with some new ones sprinkled in) and so many rooms it gave the impression that the store goes on forever. Being in Ireland, I've been tempted to pick up some James Joyce, but I always remind myself at the last minute that I absolutely cannot stand that sort of literature. Instead, I bought a book about the Easter Rising in an effort to learn a bit of Irish history while I'm here.

The bookstore was followed by dinner at a wonderful little Italian place and later some Guinness at a local pub.

Saturday, however, was a horse of another color. I have been determined to see the Aran Islands since our arrival in Ireland, and Saturday we made our way out there. A forty minute bus ride followed by a forty minute ferry ride (in some Very Choppy Water) and we were there! The Aran Islands consist of 3 islands; we hopped off the ferry at the largest one. It had a quaint yet rustic feel. Located just west of Ireland in the Atlantic ocean, the island doesn't have the polished image of most Irish tourist destinations.

After exiting the ferry, you are immediately surrounded by people pushing bus tours, bike tours, and horse-and-buggy tours of the island. Aditya and I heard that the bikes were the way to go, so for 10 euro we rented some crappy mountain bikes and set out to see some scenery!

This is Ireland, however, and let's not forget that the weather can be tricky over here. The choppy water should have been our first clue, but we were naive. Promptly after rounding the corner from the bike rental, it began to POUR rain on us. I immediately pulled out my poncho and put it on, but it was too late - my mittens were soaked, my jeans were wet, and I was cold. Stubborn as we are, we kept the bikes and kept moving forward.

Biking in the Aran Islands requires a lot of biking uphill. We headed up a road that ran along the edge of the island, next to the ocean. The scenery was stunning. The wind was less exciting. Twenty minutes in and we were both breathing heavy, pushing uphill into the kind of wind that will bring you to a halt if you stop pedaling. We were getting nowhere fast (note the wind on the poncho below and the frustration on my face!).

Soon enough we both lost our patience with the situation and turned around to go back downhill. There was a pub at the base and we thought maybe some hot tea and soup would rejuvenate us enough to finish the ride an hour later. As we walked back, however, we were passed by several happy, seemingly dry, not-tired individuals. Feeling foolish for giving up so quickly, we looked at each other and decided, Why not, let's give it another shot.

We turned around, hopped on our bikes, and yup - it instantly starting raining again. Shrugging off yet another omen, we pressed forward once more.

This time we made it farther. We passed some monastic ruins and a few lookout points (see below - but don't be fooled by the blue skies, the weather changed quickly!). We took lots of photographs and began to really appreciate the scenery we were riding through. A single-lane road with the ocean to the right and farms to the left, it was truly breathtaking. Small stone walls separated us from grazing horses and cows. Farmhouses, trailers, and ruins dotted the lands, cars were few and far between, and the grass was a brilliant green. The view was priceless.

After passing the ruins, Aditya and I began our ascent of yet another hill when the wind picked back up. Then the rain started again. Then, just as we rounded a corner with a small breakwall separating us from the ocean, the hail hit. Before we knew it were were being pelted in the face with small bits of ice and we were forced to get off of our bikes, hide our faces, and wait for the storm to pass. The ocean slammed into the rocks below us, the wind whipped up our ponchos, and the rain soaked our pants, hats, gloves, and shoes.

The hail was our breaking point. After the clouds passed overhead and we could look up again, we decided that God wasn't intending us to explore the Aran Islands that day. As the rain continued, we turned to go back down the hill, where we knew a warm pub was waiting for us.

Eventually the sun came out, assuring us that we had made the right decision. This time, we weren't fooled by the bikers heading in the opposite direction and we continued toward the pub. Forty-five minutes later we were inside the bar which was warmed by a small fire in the corner. Aditya and I ate piping hot shepherd's pie and listened to four old men speak Irish at the bar. It wasn't scenic and it wasn't rugged, but it was the best part of our day.

(Don't worry - a post about the Cliffs is coming!)