Sixth Day?

We got up and again, had a drop box breakfast. It was the same, except for having a pastry in it, too. It was ok. Not great. Not horrible. Ok.

We grabbed our suitcases and hit the bus. I was probably late. I don't remember. KorTnIE doesn't either. So I don't care. She thinks she was asleep...

We drove out of Wales, and while we did so Paul played traditional Welsh music. The gay snots complained a lot. Paul turned up the music. They said it was loud. He said they just had hangovers. They shut up after that.

I have to go now, so I will finish later. Bye! Love you guys!

Fifth Day?

We got up at five and left at six. Yow! My brain was throbbing. I didn't sleep. But at least I was already packed up, right?

They gave up drop box (paper bag) breakfasts. No comment. Well, actually, comment, just later on.

Continue.

We boarded our bus that fine EARLY Tuesday morning. Mr. Shamus drove us to the Docks. Lynn the Canadian-German said that Dublin has really been trying to clean up their docks. Now they are pretty nice. They are building some cool new buildings. We got to the terminal, checked out bags, and boarded the boat, the great Ulysses. It was nice and luxiurious inside. They had a giftshop which Cara wanted me to go into with her, so I did. Almost everything was overpirced and she didn't seem to understand. Example: that little foam soccer ball is £7.95. She did seem to realise how badly she was getting ripped off. I had to tell her. Eventually I just had to get out of that store, and a few minutes later, Cara came out with her purchase. As you may have guessed from my excellent foreshadowing, Cara got ripped off after I left. But she still didn't think this was the case. I gave up. Just smile at her.

Next, I was hungry because the drop box breakfast was altogether unsatisfying. It sole contents were as follows: a rotten apple, orange juice, and a cheese and butted sandwich. None of it was good. I bought a cappuccino on the Ulysses after convincing Dad to give me money. (This seems like a good point to mention that I like putting in the name of the boat because it makes me think of the funny song by Franz Ferdinand called "Ulysses.") It was alright, but Dad wanted something more substantial, so I bought us a ham and cheese melt to split from the café. It was quite delicious. After getting food, we all settled down and began playing some cards. There were two problems with this: first, I kept losing; second, we were sitting next to a window that faced out the side of the ship - not forward.

It was only three games later that I began to feel the sloshing. In the stomach. I withdrew from playing cards and decided to read the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. It couldn't read long. I grabbed Zach and we went to the deck. As soon as the cold air hit me, I was fine. Nausea gone. I walked around, got cold, and went back inside.

At this point, Dad and Matt began an effective attempt to start a game of Hearts. They successfully taught Courtney to play, but, due to my motion sickness from the gentle rocking of the Ulysses and what have you, I neither understood nor tried to learn how to play. I went upstairs with Gram. Again, just as before, cold fresh, non-oscillating air and I was fine. In order to avoid the problem with the cold, we went and sat down on the warm roof (it was painted dark green and the sun was shining) leaning against the smoking booth (no one was in it). But this hurt my back, you see, so I just completely laid down and took a nap. It was pleasant, mostly because I wasn't sick. About twenty minutes later, I went back inside. Gram showed me where Katie and Shelby were napping in the "cinema." When I got back to the area where card games were getting rather intense, I just sat and watched. Of course I felt badly again, but there was nothing else for me to do. I tried to look forward as much as is possible through a side-facing window. A short while later, Cara came and got me along with some of the gay snots and took us back out to the deck to take pictures. I didn't stay too long. Just enough to make her happy. I went back down as we were pulling into dock.

A short while later, we were walking off the boat. We didn't even have to go through customs. However, we had to take a bus from the dock to the terminal. Little me with my back pack and satchel was forced to stand up. I could hardly reach the dangling handholds. Sufficing to say that I couldn't feel my hands by the time we got to terminal. I may or may not have knocked some people on the bus unconscious with my bag...from swinging.

We got our luggage and dragged it to our new coach. It was full size. Nice.

Our driver was Paul and our first stop was the village with the longest name in the world: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch. I promise I didn't just make that up. Translated, it means The Church of St. Mary in the Hollow of White Hazel Trees near the Rapid Whirlpool by St. Tysillio's of the Red Cave. NO JOKE. It was a boring town. The only thing that happened was that Dad's card got denied at the restaurant inside the clothing store. Really, that was the reason the credit card company gave for denying it. We left soon.

After that, we crossed over to the main land mass (Holyhead (port) and Llanfair P.G. were on an island) and drove down a skinny winding road through Snowdonia National Park. It was beautiful and nauseating. Poor Courtney got it bad. At least we got to see Mt. Snowdon

As we were coming down from the mountains, we stopped a place that Paul claimed had the best ice cream in Wales. It was pretty good, too.

After that, we went to a town called Conwy. It is the home of a ring castle (not related to the ring forts in Ireland) built by King Edward. It has a wall that served to fortify the city back in the day. It was open to the public so we went a walked along it. I saw all the places where the archers hid out and shot through holesj in the walls. The walls were six feet thick. The whole complex was ingeniously designed to protect against invasion. It was incredibly neat to see and explore. Sadly, the castle itself wasn't open, plus it charged for entry if it was. All I remember is having to pee badly. Curious, don't you think?

That was the end of our site seeing, so we drove to a small seaside village town where our hotel was. Strangely, 90 percent of the tourists there (at least) were grand, if you catch my drift.

Dinner was awful. The waitress got my order wrong twice, didn't want to but eventually did correct her mistake, and when she finally brought my order, it was worse than the wrong order she brought out first. We went for chips (fries) after dinner. They were nice and greasy. I was happy. As we were walking back to the hotel, we saw a seagull fly OUT of Shelby, Katie, and Gram's room. Mr. Johnson was inside guarding the window so it didn't come back in. The seagull just stood there about 3 feet from the window, just standing. It wouldn't leave. We went inside and packed up before going to bed. We were going to be driving the next day.

I am talking to a old drunk scotsman. say she like my granddad, not that I would know. I right now, I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He's crazy.

Fourth Day?

Sorry about not writing the last few days; we haven't had internet worth a five pence piece. So here's a recap:

Fourth Day?

We got up and went down to breakfast, after which we charged forth to pick up our locale guide. In downtown Dublin. During rush hour. Naturally we were late, which isn't really out of the ordinary for our family, is it?

Fourth Day?

Sorry this is a few days delayed. We haven't had internet worth a 5 pence piece.

So, rise and shine. We got up and had breakfast before charging forth into downtown Dublin. In a coach. During rush hour. We were late picking up our locale guide, but is being late really anything new to Dad and me or our family as a whole?

We picked up the guide, Mr. Jerry Cooley, and away we went to see the wonderful wonders that Dublin proper had to offer. I don't know how many times we made the same loop around the middle of the city while it was narrated and we were serenaded by one Mr. Cooley. (Apparently Jerry is a bit of a pub singer/historian/bloody cursing Irishman. (No cursing intended.) In a lavender sweater.

He showed us around the city, and we saw the American embassy, the White House of the (female) Irish president's house, and the cross and park where mass was held once by one of the Popes (over a million people came.). It was big. The cross and the park, I mean.

We concluded our tour by going to see the book of Kells at Trinity University. You can read all about it on Google. Apparently it ( the book) is one of the best preserved manuscripts from the 1st millennium AD. The colors of the ink are still brilliant. There was an exhibit all about it and other similar books. The story of how the book escaped demolition is one of granduer. It changed hands many times. Sadly, that's all I remember. Hmmm...(It must be the music blasting my brain as I write this and the next few posts from the bar next door; it's right over Shelby, Katie, and Gram's room. Sucks for them, does it not?)

After the exhibit, Jerry walked us back to Temple Bar (street with all the pubs and such). We thanked him for his excellent tour and then he left. We had lunch at the Hard Rock, and Shelby (18-the legal drinking age here) had a Bahama Mama. She said it tasted good. We then went on to explore the rest of the city some more. Courtney, her mum, me, and Dad walked over to the shopping district (on other side of the Liffy River). We bought some things at the gift store, but that was it. You will have to wait and see what things.

I finally talked them into crossing back over the Liffy so I could go to the one store I wanted to: Forbidden Planet (Mrs. Mary...I thought of you.). Stuff was really overpriced, so we didn't get anything. But I have pictures so don't worry.

Next we beat feet back to Gogarty's (pub recommended by Jerry himself for having good music) and met up with the others. Mr. Johnson was, as usual, sipping on expensive black coffee. We all stayed around for about 15 minutes listening to the music, and, luckily, it wasn't crowded. The singer was quite good; he sang the common bar song about one Molly Malone. After that we left to get me some good coffee. Once again, we crossed the Liffy, and I was sent to Costa Coffee to get my cappuccino. One problem, Dad didn't give me any money (and hasn't the entire trip except for a few small coins not enough to buy a scone.). I borrowed a fiver from Gram, but Dad paid her back as soon as he arrived. I slowly sipped the hot goodness for twenty minutes. Then we had to leave to meet Lynn to Canadian-German back at the Molly Malone statue. On the other side of the Liffy.

We made it back on time, took some pictures, then boarded the bus. We got back to the Days Hotel (I think it is the European form of Days Inn.) and had dinner. After which we packed up. We were going to be leaving EARLY the next morning for the docks. And so we did (pack and leave).

Oh great. Now they are playing Bohemian Rhapsody in the bar. The wall is rattling. Ugh. Next post. You know, at this point it sucks that Bohemian Rhapsody is ten minutes long. Again - Ugh.

Third Day?

Today, the wake-up call was still late. I got up late and downstairs on time. Breakfast was about the same as yesterday. We had to pack up last night (and finish this morning) because Lynn was incessantly insistent that we not be late to the bus this morning due to us being on what she called "pressure time." Dad and I were on time (for a change) and most everyone else was, too (at least all the Goodpasture peoples - the gay snots were late).

After we got on the road to Dublin, everything was ho-hum. Two hours driving, then we had a two hour-long stop at Blarney Castle. It was bland, in my opinion. You go into the complex (beautiful grounds) and when you finally get to the castle (remnants), the staircases are TINY, STEEP, SPIRALS of DOOM, DEATH, and DESTRUCTION. I was fine. I still don't know how certain people got up and down the stairs at all...

Anyway, once we got to the top (about four stories up) there were great views and pictures. The castle itself is somewhat dull; it's just a tower - nothing compared to castles in Germany, Dad said. The Blarney Stone (which just looks like a hunk of mortar) is greasy and worn down. Apparently when the McCarthies lived there, some Scotsman conquerer man gave half of the Stone of Scone (what Scottish kings were ordained on) to McCarthy, who then had it stuck in a wall in his house. It supposedly gave him and his family eloquence (especially in speech) because when Queen Liz of England sent multiple men to get McCarthy to surrender his land and castle, they all came back with messages that they were "working on it," but nothing ever happened...until Cromwell came along. But that's another story entirely. Moving on.

After going back down the equally steep Blarney staircase and popping into some random rooms connected with it, Dad and I took a quick stroll around the grounds and got some pictures. I was trying to properly document the "Poison Garden," but Dad rushed me, so I apologize in advance to those who are upset by my incomplete reference guide to it. We also saw a man with two dogs playing in the stream that were exactly like Clif and Luna (if they were Labs) down to the white spot on Clif's chest.

After kicking Blarney Castle in the buttocks, we went into town to grab a bite before we ran out of the 4th dimension - time. Dad had a sausage (braut) and I had a beefburger (not entirely unlike a hamburger) and we split a coke (because I was cheap). With our remaining minutes we looked around the Blarney Woolen Mill. Dad found a sweater he liked for Erin (in one of the model pictures), but we couldn't find the color in real life. So sad, I know. It was knee length. And probably expensive. We went back to the bus at which point wee Mr. Shamus was inexcusably thirty seconds late. Shameful. Shamus.

Now, drive. For 2 more hours. Lynn sang. It was horrific. Mr. Johnson joined in. At that point, I brought out the noise-cancelling headphones. I listened to the entire Killers album Sawdust before they shut up. No, in fact, I DON'T care about Molly the fish monger. I really truly don't. Promise. I'm not marching to Tiparary, and therefore, I am not singing the song about how I left my heart there. But it's ok because I had three of the most important things in the entire Universe with me: good music, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and a towel. Also, we stopped soon after that (precisely one Kaiser Chiefs and half of a Matt Kearney album later).

That time, we stopped at Cashel's Rock. Basically, it's a huge limestone outcropping in the middle of very completely flat Irish farmland. There were ruins of a church on top. According to legend, it is where the Irish kings were ordained and also where St. Patrick converted the first Irish king to Christianity. We took pictures after hitting the toilets (I'm sure you wanted to know that.). On the road again.

Two and a half hours later, we arrived in the Dublin suburb where our hotel is. It's nice. It has internet in the room. We had dinner relatively early at 7 o' clock. The appetizer was some sort of split pea soup and the main course was a fried white fish with dill sauce, carrots and broccoli, and some whole miniature potatoes that were delicious. For dessert, lemon cake and, of course, tea. It was very good. We went back to the room for a bit before getting on the public bus and riding into downtown Dublin for a stroll (completely optional - almost).

The ride was fun. We sat on the second deck. I don't believe that the driver believes in slowing down for speed bumps or not hitting trees or not taking turns too fast. Where's the fun in that, right? We got out and walked around for about an hour. We saw the Guinness brewery and the Heineken headquarters and the Bailey's Irish Cream headquarters. We also saw a lot of drunk people in pubs. We walked down the Temple Bar (entertainment street - lots of pubs). Many of the restaurants had their doors open and you could hear the horns at football games booming out of their TVs. It was exciting. They were all watching the Mexico vs. Argentina game.

After I made an untimely stop in a four story McDonalds to pee (I went to all the floors before I finally found the toilets...on the ground floor) and bought a coke just to make it look like I wasn't complete disregarding their "Toilets for Customers Only" sign, which I would have, we rode the bus back to the hotel. Two guys were smoking in the back. Gross. We went inside and Mr. Johnson proceeded to show Dad the basics of how to work a Mac computer. And that was all we did today. The end. I love you all and will see you soon.

Second Day?

Let me preface with this: we heard unidentified screaming in the wee mid-morning hours.

Our wake-up call came thirty minutes late. Lynn the Canadian-German had them send it when the first utterly failed. I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night because when it was time to go to bed here, I am used to eating dinner then staying up for four to five more hours. I finally got to sleep about 2 o' clock in the morning. Shortly thereafter, I heard the screaming in the alley outside our room (the window was open because they do not have nor do they need air conditioners). That, of course, woke me up a bit, and then it took a while for me to get back to sleep. By the time I fell asleep, Dad got up when his alarm went off (on time, might I add). He proceeded to take a shower. Ergo, I never got to sleep again. Then Courtney knocked on the door to give one of our adapters back thus forcing me to get up. I think that was the Universe's way of rubbing it in.

We finally got downstairs to breakfast where I learned that the Irish themselves love a hearty breakfast; and so one we had. I had a fried egg, grapefruit and plain yoghurt, a bowl of cereal, a piece of back bacon (Canadian bacon), orange juice, corn bread, and tea. I was quite content.

Interruption - my abs are starting to look nice from all my workings outs.

After breakfast we grabbed our backpacks and headed to the bus. We were five minutes late. But it was ok because Zach and his mum and his dad were much later. I no longer feel so obsolete and ashamed. It's refreshing. When they got there, we departed for the Ring of Kerry.

What is the Ring of Kerry, you might ask? It is simply a scenic driving route that goes around the county of Kerry onto a peninsula. It passes over streams, between hills, and through towns. It was quite beautiful. We got some nice views of the Atlantic. My pictures are repetitive since I was taking them from inside a moving bus. I was trying to make sure I give you an accurate representation of the countryside, so consequently there is a great deal of glare in some of the photos, but at least I have them, so don't complain. We passed lots of rocky craggy hills and small family farms. We went through a few towns and stopped in some, too. You will just have to look at the pictures; it's too difficult to explain what it looks like.

The climate is supposedly moderate, but because I am so used to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, 65 degrees is cold. And then it rains a splash here and there. And then it's windy from the Atlantic ocean. But that is fine. I had a jacket. And a BLT in Waterville.

The first landmark (I guess that is what it is classified as being) we passed was the tallest mountain in Ireland: Carrantuohill. The pictures of it are hard to make out because of the fog. After that, we came to a town (whose name I don't know) that had a statue of a goat named King Puck. Apparently every year there they have a three-day festival during which a selected goat is "king" over the town. Mostly the festival days consist of drinking. If the special goat has things covered, why not drink then?

Along the beginning of the drive, we passed many peat bogs (which are now protected due to their disappearing). If they don't have oxygen enough, they don't survive. Peat bogs are constantly moving, so in the old days (hundreds of years ago) when they were used as natural refrigerators, whatever people stuck in them to keep cool was lost by the time they came back to get it. Peat bogs preserve things really well. The butter that those people stuck in it so long ago has been found today along with some well-preserved complete human bodies. Mmm butter 'n' giblets. There are blanket bogs and raised bogs. Google them if you are interested.

Next we passed through a tiny town where a certain Daniel O' Connell was born. It was called Cahersiveen. O' Connell was a Catholic reformer man.

When we stopped in Waterville (a place where Charlie Chaplin liked to hang out back in the day), we had lunch. Dad and I split a BLT. Waterville is on the edge of the peninsula we were driving on, so it is only to be accepted that we were near the Valentia Islands - where there are puffins. I guess that answers the question about where do puffins go in the winter.

We kept driving (after we were 20 minutes late getting back on the bus because it took forever to get our food - all of us were late, not just me and Dad) and got some good pictures. We finally got to Sneem. It was there that I went to the bathroom, and Dad bought traditional Irish music (the likes of which I am listening to know because I am in the lobby of our hotel not far from the bar just to get Internet access). We kept going and going. We drove through Killarney National Park and stopped to get pictures of some really pretty lakes. When we finally got to the city of Killarney, there were a bunch of tourists. Lynn the Canadian-German only gave us thirty minutes. We had enough time to walk around the block once and buy coffee. Well, I bought a cappuccino. Dad bought hot chocolate and burnt his tongue. We were early back to the bus. The gay snots from New York were quite late. (They have their own story later on in this post.)

After Killarney, we drove back to the hotel and had dinner. I had egg salad, beef stroganoff, and creme puffs. It was very delicious. Again, I was (and still am) content.

So, to my story about the gay snots from New York. There are four girls and two (twin sister) adults. One sister is a crappy drinker; the other is just weird. Apparently the entire group went out to a pub last night and didn't get in until 2:30 AM. The twin sister with little flame tattoo bands around her biceps got uber drunk and they had to go get her and bring her back to the hotel. Screaming. When they got her upstairs, she banged on doors (thankfully not ours) and even walked into Shelby, Katie and Mrs. Billy's room at 2:30. Katie hadn't been able to sleep due to the time change, so she had gone down to the lobby to get on the computer. She saw them come in and went back to her room, but her door was still propped open (for reasons I am foggy about). The drunk twin actually came into her room asking if she could sleep there. Meanwhile, Billie thought it was time to get up because of all the noise, so she was just plain confused. To conclude my story, we didn't see the drunk twin all day until dinner. By the way, I call them gay snots because they all talk like airheads (teeny-bopper girls), and two of them are...well...touchy-feely if you understand what I am getting at.

But for a change of topic, Dad and I are having a great time. Tomorrow we are driving to Dublin and are going to Blarney castle (A.K.A. home of the Blarney Stone). Hopefully I will be able to write, but if not, know that I love you all. Goodnight from Ireland.

Also, I can't figure out how to put pictures albums on my blog, so I am putting them on Facebook (Not all my pictures are there yet. I have too many to upload at once...). Here's the link:

http://www.facebook.com/photos.php?id=100001023794508

First Day?

Except for a (relatively) short delay out of JFK, our air travels were rather seamless. It is, however, rather disconcerting to be on a plane and watch the moon come and go and then the sun rise all in a matter of 5 and a half hours. Just a bit, though. Not too bad. Much.

After disembarkation, we made our way through the Shannon airport. (Did you know that the first trans-Atlantic flights were to and from Shannon?) We met our tour guide, Mrs. Lynn Howard, who is, strangely enough, a Canadian German. Strange. Our bus driver is wee Mr. Shamus. When asked which part of Ireland he was from, his response was simply, "the middle of Ireland." While this is somewhat nonspecific, it is a perfectly acceptable answer due to the fact that Ireland's middle is altogether bland.

After about 45 minutes on our Lilliputian (but still nice) bus, we arrived at a tiny village all for the purpose of looking at thatched-roof buildings. There were three. Lucky for us, we also got lunch. Dad and I split an Irish Beefburger. I liked it. Dad...he wasn't so optimistic. But we managed. After "here's a menu for ye and here's another for ye," I was all game for this lunch. Our waiter looked to be about 14 years old and on his first day. As he brought our drinks out, his hands were shaking so badly you could hear the glasses clinking together. It was...pitiful but very effective advertising at the same time. Also, as a side note, there are a bunch of crows. It was creepy because in case you didn't know, crows only crow when it's quiet, cold, and gusty. I think they do it for effect. I love it. There are, by the way, many monastaries and old medieval castle ruins that were destroyed during the Norman Wars.

After a quick restroom break, we got back on the bus. We waited. What for, you might ask? We waited for girls from the other group who can't tell time. And to make things better, the entire other group is quite snobbish. They don't even talk to us, thank goodness. It's ok though because we outnumber them. If there is a battle, we shall be the victors. Anyway, we got back on the bus, and there we sat for 2 hours. I dosed. The tour guide rambled. I tried to listen. I failed. Wow, I need to vary my syntax. And so I shall.

Our hotel is called the Abbey Gate Hotel. It's on the main street in a moderately sized town called Tralee in the county of Kerry. We napped and grabbed some showers then went out exploring the downtown on our own during our down time. We went to the Supermart and got water and, strangely enough, floss. All I can say about that is silly Dad. 50m of floss cost €2.73 and 5L of water cost €1.50. Why, I do not know. Dad kept forgetting where he was going; good thing he had me. The downtown is all of 4 blocks. Difficult. We took a stroll through an inconceivably small mall and even found a GameStop. It seems video games will consume the collective human mind one soul at a time. Sorry Jon.

When we made it back to Abbey Gate, we refilled our water bottles then hit the sack again. My bio-rhythm is so confused, and I am unsure about when to take my medicines. Now that it's time to go to bed, I'm just ready to get up. Wooo Wooo! Par-tay! and there is traditional Irish music downstairs just to get things hopping a bit. Props to the man on the accordian and the other on guitar. Hmmm. Questionable. But that didn't start until after dinner. Dad and I both had Cream of 'Shroom soup for an appetizer and Ham and Turkey for the main course. There were mashed potatoes that, as expected, were delicious. We had a fruit medley jello whipped cream dessert dish. I thought it inventive that the chef had prepared the jello with what appeared to be Lady Fingers in it. This made for an interesting texture, but over all it was fairly tasty. And just to wash it down, how appropriate that I had a cup of tea.

So far it has been fun. Hopefully tomorrow once we get over our jet lag, it would be even more enjoyable. We don't have very many pictures yet, so you will have to wait for those to come later. Right now, I need to go check my email and figure out when Doctor Who comes on. We only have around 7 channels on our TV, so we may not even get it. Time only shall tell. More tomorrow. Goodnight. I think I will pitch off to bed soon. Thanks for reading even though I am longwinded. I love you all.

39 Hours and 31 Minutes

We leave in only a couple of days. I'm sure all of us are busy packing and double checking to make sure we have everything. Myself of course, I like to feel the vibrations of the universe in my soul and have not started packing. I plan to experiment with packing lightly and washing clothes in hotel sinks. I will post my findings on the matter.

Because I can think of nothing else to write, at the moment, I trust that this is an adequate first commentary. Thank you for your time and patience.