letter From Ireland
2/2/05 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHere's part of a letter my BelovedNiece sent- *beams* this is a hike they went on.
There's something about standing on top of a 15+ foot stone fort that just makes ya feel damn cool.
So, the archaeology club here arranges all sorts of trips; this was the first of them. We were going to the Aran Islands, in particular, Inis Meain (or something to that effect) and it all sounded very interesting. Except I had no fucking clue what I'd be doing before I agreed to go with the roommates. But I figured, another Saturday morning watching Spongebob in Gaelic? No thank you!
Which, by the way, is so, so unnatural.
So, I was up at 7:30. On a Saturday. If you know me, you know how physically painful this is. I'll say it again-7:30. in the morning. Arrrrghhhh.
But! I was the first roommate awake, so BOOYAH.
We slopped our way to the school, a bit of a walk for 8:30 in the morning. We waited for the group to collect, then we walked to the bus station, which is around the corner from our house. Ooooo, sweet fucking irony...
Oh, oh oh. One of my lifetime dreams has come true, ladies and gents.
I rode a double-decker bus. I rode on the top! IT WAS SO COOL. Until I fell asleep. And until I woke up and realized riding on the top had given Natalie a Grade-A case of motion sickness. Ooo, I'm a bad person.
Which made the FERRY ride all the more fantastic for her. The ferry had this bit underneath where people could sit and it looked like a big bus. I sat down, and as soon as we began moving, I shot up to the top of the ferry and stayed glued there, absolutely adoring being shot in the face with salt water.
Oh, that's just...never mind, moving on!
I got 1000 pictures of the ocean, and the coasts of Ireland, which are amazing because you can see the land divided up by stone walls. I never realized fully how much I -LOVE- the ocean and all things connected to it. The ferry ride made me just giddy.
The boat was rocking A LOT (poor Natalie) and I couldn't help but notice I was standing across from a strange box with gold on top...oh wait, that gold is a crucifix...oh, wait, that box is...yes, yes it's a coffin. Awesome. Dead body on board. Just swell.
Shameless, I tried to discreetly catch it on my digital camera's movie thingie. I am, as ever, a bad human being.
So, we hit the island and start walking. The island was so, so quaint. The houses were adorable, and there were the cutest damn dogs all over the place. And, hens. Not so cute, but neat to see.
Then the houses, which were amazingly sparse (island: about 2 miles by 2.5 miles, total population: 200) disappeared, and the hill started. AUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Nothing is worse, my friends, then being the hefty chick hauling her huge hindparts up a hill while panting like she's having a heart attack. "No, no, just leave me here. If hyperventilation doesn't kill me, humiliation surely will."
Or, "Um, yes, I am a tad winded. I have asthma. And a cold. And...the black lung. Pray for me."
The path was dirt, cow poo, and stone, and we travelled between the stone walls which were everywhere! We got to the top of the hill (alive) and there was the first site, a giant fort made from stones.
Though it was about ten foot high, there were stones jutting out that you could use to climb up. And, with minor amounts of struggling, I did.
Amazing view. The fort (yah, um, forgot the name, go me) was amazingly well preserved, dates back to the 7th century AD. It was so...bizarre... to know that I was simply standing on lots, and lots of rocks.
I squiggled down again, and was so pleased with myself for all the activeness. And I didn't make a jackass out of myself, either! No falling, no head trauma, I was feeling very fine indeed.
So we walked and walked, which wasn't bad or taxing as there was so much to look at (like windmills, and really, stonewalls sound extremely boring, but I couldn't get enough of 'em! It was like, WHOA, LOOK! More stone walls! Excellent! I took so many pictures it was ridiculous). There were a lot of angry looking cows as well, although I don't know how they got where they were, inside the stone walls, because...well, are cows good climbers? They must be, because we found cow poo in places that were simply inexplicable. These cows are in much better condition then me, apparently *sad*.
So, it took us a while to realize our leader was lost. How, I don't know, as she had all of those stone walls to use as landmarks. Actually, she wasn't a tour guide, just another student, as the real tour guide had bailed on us. So, we went back to town for lunch, and decided to find the second site afterwards.
Well, apparently that coffin had been a person from the island, and the whole place was shut down, as the whole island was in mourning. Tragic.
More tragedy followed, as we trooped all over the island, and found no place to eat, and worse yet, no toilets. Oh, dear god.
We found this place that was like a tiny cornerstore, which had no bathroom, but some foods. I selected chips and a loaf of cherry bread (lunch o champions) and within minutes, we were off again.
We followed the group, and there was a bit of struggle involved in getting to the second site. There was climbing over walls and down walls and thorn patches to be narrowly avoided...not your typical Saturday afternoon stroll. But finally, I saw the fort. This one was about 15 or more feet high, and with steps that only appear to go up about ten. So, I carefully made my way up the steps, but once they ran out, I tried to climb up using the grooves between the rocks. Did I make it? Did the rocks give way? Did I go tumbling to the ground like a sack of potatoes?! Find out after this break.
Intermission.
Of course I made it, jackass. And I was damn proud of myself too. The view up there was incredible, and inside the fort were these designs made out of-you guessed it-cow poo. No, no, it was stone. I enjoyed exploring a bit, but then when we went to clear out, there was an issue.
There was an Irish guy there, Martin (yes, and he was cute) and as me and Carolyn went to leave the way we came, he told us we were taking an easier way out (which meant there was an easier way in-WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED??). I told him I couldn't. Why not? Because I left my bag at the big stairs.
Oh, you.
I watched as Martin shimmied up the side of the fort, effortlessly made his way down the stairs, and leapt back up again like some sort of hormonally enhanced monkey. He was amazing. And all to get my bag. Oh, there was major swooning. He's so my hero. ANNNDD he may be in the mountaineering club. *GRIN*
So we walked with Martin to the local pub (whose owner had been persuaded to open it by guess who-oh yah, Martin, he's the man). By this time we'd wandered all over the island, and my roommates and I were exhausted. I was only wearing a sweater and a sweatshirt, (oh, and pants...ha...can't leave those out...) and it was getting colder by the second. Then they all decided to go hang out by the water, to catch that nice ocean breeze.
Yay for numb extremities!
The ferry was late picking us up, and the boat was FRIGID. The way home was pretty miserable; I couldn't get warm and was at that point of cold when things touching your skin hurt. Jill, you're a nurse, what the fuck does that mean? I have nerve damage, don't I? Stupid Island!
Getting home was beautiful, I changed into warmer clothes, bundled up on one of our chairs and made myself a yummy dinner. I was so warm and happy, and it was a nice time to look back at the day. Considering everything, I thought I'd done very well. I'm by no means graceful or good at moving, and I'd kicked ass. Also, when you think about the fact that I'd worn the only boots I have-a pair from Hot Topic 3 years ago, you gotta give props to the good people at Demonia Shoes. Nice footwear.
I'm really happy with this experience, and have been on some weird Irish high ever since (must be all the shamrock fumes I inhaled...or the cow poo). I think in some ways it made me realize that I really came here not just to do things I've never done, but to really take time for myself, to do what I really want. One thing I really want is to try, as much as I can, is to sort of think about who I am. God, that sounds so new-age bullshittty. But, this as on-my-own as I've ever been, and seems like the perfect time to see who I am without the reflections of the people around me.
Okay, I'm just totally embarassed by that whole last paragraph. While I'm at it I'm going to have my chakras opened and my aura cleansed (it tickles!).
end transmission
There's something about standing on top of a 15+ foot stone fort that just makes ya feel damn cool.
So, the archaeology club here arranges all sorts of trips; this was the first of them. We were going to the Aran Islands, in particular, Inis Meain (or something to that effect) and it all sounded very interesting. Except I had no fucking clue what I'd be doing before I agreed to go with the roommates. But I figured, another Saturday morning watching Spongebob in Gaelic? No thank you!
Which, by the way, is so, so unnatural.
So, I was up at 7:30. On a Saturday. If you know me, you know how physically painful this is. I'll say it again-7:30. in the morning. Arrrrghhhh.
But! I was the first roommate awake, so BOOYAH.
We slopped our way to the school, a bit of a walk for 8:30 in the morning. We waited for the group to collect, then we walked to the bus station, which is around the corner from our house. Ooooo, sweet fucking irony...
Oh, oh oh. One of my lifetime dreams has come true, ladies and gents.
I rode a double-decker bus. I rode on the top! IT WAS SO COOL. Until I fell asleep. And until I woke up and realized riding on the top had given Natalie a Grade-A case of motion sickness. Ooo, I'm a bad person.
Which made the FERRY ride all the more fantastic for her. The ferry had this bit underneath where people could sit and it looked like a big bus. I sat down, and as soon as we began moving, I shot up to the top of the ferry and stayed glued there, absolutely adoring being shot in the face with salt water.
Oh, that's just...never mind, moving on!
I got 1000 pictures of the ocean, and the coasts of Ireland, which are amazing because you can see the land divided up by stone walls. I never realized fully how much I -LOVE- the ocean and all things connected to it. The ferry ride made me just giddy.
The boat was rocking A LOT (poor Natalie) and I couldn't help but notice I was standing across from a strange box with gold on top...oh wait, that gold is a crucifix...oh, wait, that box is...yes, yes it's a coffin. Awesome. Dead body on board. Just swell.
Shameless, I tried to discreetly catch it on my digital camera's movie thingie. I am, as ever, a bad human being.
So, we hit the island and start walking. The island was so, so quaint. The houses were adorable, and there were the cutest damn dogs all over the place. And, hens. Not so cute, but neat to see.
Then the houses, which were amazingly sparse (island: about 2 miles by 2.5 miles, total population: 200) disappeared, and the hill started. AUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Nothing is worse, my friends, then being the hefty chick hauling her huge hindparts up a hill while panting like she's having a heart attack. "No, no, just leave me here. If hyperventilation doesn't kill me, humiliation surely will."
Or, "Um, yes, I am a tad winded. I have asthma. And a cold. And...the black lung. Pray for me."
The path was dirt, cow poo, and stone, and we travelled between the stone walls which were everywhere! We got to the top of the hill (alive) and there was the first site, a giant fort made from stones.
Though it was about ten foot high, there were stones jutting out that you could use to climb up. And, with minor amounts of struggling, I did.
Amazing view. The fort (yah, um, forgot the name, go me) was amazingly well preserved, dates back to the 7th century AD. It was so...bizarre... to know that I was simply standing on lots, and lots of rocks.
I squiggled down again, and was so pleased with myself for all the activeness. And I didn't make a jackass out of myself, either! No falling, no head trauma, I was feeling very fine indeed.
So we walked and walked, which wasn't bad or taxing as there was so much to look at (like windmills, and really, stonewalls sound extremely boring, but I couldn't get enough of 'em! It was like, WHOA, LOOK! More stone walls! Excellent! I took so many pictures it was ridiculous). There were a lot of angry looking cows as well, although I don't know how they got where they were, inside the stone walls, because...well, are cows good climbers? They must be, because we found cow poo in places that were simply inexplicable. These cows are in much better condition then me, apparently *sad*.
So, it took us a while to realize our leader was lost. How, I don't know, as she had all of those stone walls to use as landmarks. Actually, she wasn't a tour guide, just another student, as the real tour guide had bailed on us. So, we went back to town for lunch, and decided to find the second site afterwards.
Well, apparently that coffin had been a person from the island, and the whole place was shut down, as the whole island was in mourning. Tragic.
More tragedy followed, as we trooped all over the island, and found no place to eat, and worse yet, no toilets. Oh, dear god.
We found this place that was like a tiny cornerstore, which had no bathroom, but some foods. I selected chips and a loaf of cherry bread (lunch o champions) and within minutes, we were off again.
We followed the group, and there was a bit of struggle involved in getting to the second site. There was climbing over walls and down walls and thorn patches to be narrowly avoided...not your typical Saturday afternoon stroll. But finally, I saw the fort. This one was about 15 or more feet high, and with steps that only appear to go up about ten. So, I carefully made my way up the steps, but once they ran out, I tried to climb up using the grooves between the rocks. Did I make it? Did the rocks give way? Did I go tumbling to the ground like a sack of potatoes?! Find out after this break.
Intermission.
Of course I made it, jackass. And I was damn proud of myself too. The view up there was incredible, and inside the fort were these designs made out of-you guessed it-cow poo. No, no, it was stone. I enjoyed exploring a bit, but then when we went to clear out, there was an issue.
There was an Irish guy there, Martin (yes, and he was cute) and as me and Carolyn went to leave the way we came, he told us we were taking an easier way out (which meant there was an easier way in-WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED??). I told him I couldn't. Why not? Because I left my bag at the big stairs.
Oh, you.
I watched as Martin shimmied up the side of the fort, effortlessly made his way down the stairs, and leapt back up again like some sort of hormonally enhanced monkey. He was amazing. And all to get my bag. Oh, there was major swooning. He's so my hero. ANNNDD he may be in the mountaineering club. *GRIN*
So we walked with Martin to the local pub (whose owner had been persuaded to open it by guess who-oh yah, Martin, he's the man). By this time we'd wandered all over the island, and my roommates and I were exhausted. I was only wearing a sweater and a sweatshirt, (oh, and pants...ha...can't leave those out...) and it was getting colder by the second. Then they all decided to go hang out by the water, to catch that nice ocean breeze.
Yay for numb extremities!
The ferry was late picking us up, and the boat was FRIGID. The way home was pretty miserable; I couldn't get warm and was at that point of cold when things touching your skin hurt. Jill, you're a nurse, what the fuck does that mean? I have nerve damage, don't I? Stupid Island!
Getting home was beautiful, I changed into warmer clothes, bundled up on one of our chairs and made myself a yummy dinner. I was so warm and happy, and it was a nice time to look back at the day. Considering everything, I thought I'd done very well. I'm by no means graceful or good at moving, and I'd kicked ass. Also, when you think about the fact that I'd worn the only boots I have-a pair from Hot Topic 3 years ago, you gotta give props to the good people at Demonia Shoes. Nice footwear.
I'm really happy with this experience, and have been on some weird Irish high ever since (must be all the shamrock fumes I inhaled...or the cow poo). I think in some ways it made me realize that I really came here not just to do things I've never done, but to really take time for myself, to do what I really want. One thing I really want is to try, as much as I can, is to sort of think about who I am. God, that sounds so new-age bullshittty. But, this as on-my-own as I've ever been, and seems like the perfect time to see who I am without the reflections of the people around me.
Okay, I'm just totally embarassed by that whole last paragraph. While I'm at it I'm going to have my chakras opened and my aura cleansed (it tickles!).
end transmission
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Re: Ok, I got to Martin getting the pub open and I died! *g*
2/2/05 05:50 pm (UTC)Heh, in our family, funny and smart is way more important then anything else. :)
And thanks so much for huggles, they're so toasty warm! mmmm!