Category Archives: Travel

Our First Anniversary

Sujal and I took a quick weekend trip down to Washington, DC for our first anniversary. Here is a little “anniversary blogging” by the White House. Those of you who know Sujal well know that he has quite an affinity for the current White House resident, as do I.

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Our intent was to go to the National Mall and see a few museums in the Smithsonian. I wanted to do a quick detour to see the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. On our way, we stopped to see the new World War II Memorial. Here is a photo:

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It was a beautiful memorial, and it was very traditional, but Sujal and I both felt it lacked something. For me it lacked the personal quality the Vietnam War Memorial has. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful piece of artwork.

While there, I read an inscription that was a quote (now I don’t remember the particulars) about the naval force (I think?) being victorious. I mentioned to Sujal that I know that the US was “victorious” in WWII, but that I had never really thought of it in those terms. I don’t really think of wars as ever being victorious. Of course I know wars are fought to be won, but I don’t believe that wars have winners. That is not to say that I don’t believe the US should have been involved in WWII. Hitler needed to be stopped for sure! But I still do not think of the US as being “victorious.” Yes, we “defeated” Hitler, but we lost a lot. I think of the poem “Dulce et Decorum Est” by Wilfred Owen. These potential semantics made Sujal question me on my comment.

This line of thinking demarcates a zone where Sujal and I do not think alike. We have very different ways of conceptualizing and perceiving the world, thus it led to a bit of a confrontation. Being the established married couple we are (we are not newlyweds anymore), we easily weather all disagreements.

After we passed the WWII Memorial, we walked past the reflecting pool that separates the WWII Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. One end was pure sludge — algae and whatever else might have been growing. It was just disgusting, stinking muck. And yet, we saw this:

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These two ducks were in the sludge with their little beaks in the muck. Somehow it just seemed like a metaphor for the state of our current administration. Sujal and I had been talking about Dickens on the ride down, and this was just too Dickensian of a symbol to pass up.

After a long, hot walk, we finally arrived at the History museum, to find out it was closed for renovations. We then headed to the National Gallery. I really wanted to see one of my favorite paintings — it hangs there. I saw it twice before, and I love it. So we went to find it in the wing of American art — also closed for renovations. Then I recalled that sometimes the artist is groups with the French Impressionists. I asked at the info desk, and yes, Mary Cassatt is grouped with the French Impressionists. The clerk asked which painting I was looking for, and I told her that it was Child in a Straw Hat. She looked it up and said that it was not on display at this time. I was a little heart broken, but I somehow managed to go on.

We went to the Air and Space Museum next. After seeing a few exhibits, we went to see an Imax movie called Adrenaline Rush which was about skydiving and base jumping. It was decent — the camera shots were beautiful, but the script was really cheesy. Then we went to see Cosmic Collisions, a planetarium show narrated by Robert Redford, which was also decent.

After getting our space ice cream, we hoofed it back to our hotel. We stayed at the Topaz Hotel, a very trendy and eco-friendly hotel in DC. It is part of the Kimpton Group, trendy, eco-friendly fairly upscale hotels. We really liked the place a lot. It is decorated in a modern and eclectic fashion, so it is kind of funky. We definitely recommend it, especially during a summer weekend, because we got a really cheap rate!

We then went out for a lovely dinner at Raku — An Asian Diner. We were so hungry, that it tasted like one of the best meal we’ve ever had. It was good, too. We each had pad thai. I also had the vietnamese spring rolls. I love them! I used to order them whenever I went to Lotus, a restaurant in Minneapolis. Vietnamese spring rolls are tough to find around here.

The next morning, we met Sujal’s friend Kim for a lovely brunch at another Kimpton hotel. Then we headed home on another traffic-filled highway. Of course we made a pit stop in New Jersey where Sujal got me a great anniversary gift (I’d already given him his). All in all, it was a pretty great first anniversary. We’ve both been fairly busy (he more so than me), so it was good to spend some time together.

I Got to Thinking about Confrontation

The weekend in DC was a great weekend away. We both enjoyed the quality time together, but it was not a weekend free from confrontation. As I mentioned above, Sujal and I had a mini-confrontation over what I’d said about the US not really being “victorious” in WWII.

On our walk to the mall, I had the trip’s first confrontation. We were enjoying our walk, seeing lots of buildings of “interest” groups and lobbyists. Then we were walking by a series of offices in what looked like row houses. In from of one stood some people holding pamphlets and some other people wearing bright orange t-shirts. My first thougt was something having to do with orange t-shirt wearing weirdos. Then I read the t-shirts and looked at the office. It was a Saturday morning and we were passing by Planned Parenthood. The pamphlet bearers where right-to-life protesters. The people in orange were Planned Parenthood volunteer escorts. Something tugged at me, and I had to go back and say something. Because this is an issue that is near and dear to me, I went back to thank the escorts for the very important work they are doing. They make it much easier for women who have made the choice to terminate a pregnancy. I am fervently pro-choice, so I really respect what they do. Of course, they would not have to do what they do if the pamphlet bearers were not there. As I turned around, the pamphlet bearers were closing in on me, telling me that it is a child, that God wants me to keep it. They thought I was going in for an abortion.

I firmly believe these pamphlet bearers have the right to protest and the right to free speech, but in the moment, I became filled with anger — anger because they make it so difficult for women to make up their minds; anger because if one believes in God, the christian God, then whatever sin he or she commits (if that is the case) is between the sinner and God; anger because they assumed something about me; anger because they want to take away my rights; anger because this is misogyny. On my way over to the escorts, I merely waived one pamphlet bearer off. When he began to preach to me after I turned to walk away, after he assumed I was terminating a pregnancy, I stooped to a low blow. I flipped him off. As a few more pamphlet bearers began addressing me, I flipped them off, too. As I walked away and they continued, growing louder, I continued to flip them off behind me. I knew Sujal was not too pleased that I made this gesture, and I was still angry. Later, I thought about it, and not that I would have ever planned to deal with a confrontation that way, I realized just how dismissive it is — and what I mean by this is that flipping them off makes them dismiss me — it invalidates my points. Granted, I was not about to get into an intellectual debate with them, but I weakened my position on the moral high ground.

So I began to think about conflict in those terms. Compassion is important, and so is respect. I may not respect someone’s viewpoint or opinion, but I can respect him or her as a fellow human being. This is, of course, not entirely new to me, but this confrontation clarified this thought for me.

Reaching for the Brass Ring

As I previously mentioned, my mother vsited for about a week. Among the many planned activities, I slipped in a visit to The Carousel at Bushnell Park in Hartford. She’d been wanting to see the Capitol building, and the park is right there.

It also happened to be the carousel’s 92nd birthday, so they had a mini-celebration by giving free rides. As the music started on the band organ, and I know this is crazy, I almost teared up. Here is a good site that has samples from the Wurlitzer 153 band organ that is part of the Hartford carousel. The tinny sounding music has an out of tune, eerie feel, and yet it easily summoned up nostalgia for me — like a cheap shot in a Lifetime, Television for Women movie. I also wish I had a picture of the Wuritzer that plays the music, but this will have to suffice. It’s a pretty amazing series of instruments — lots of pipes, drums, etc. I wish I could bring it to you, so you could hear the dissonant pinging, the low strikes on the drums, the slight whistles — it’s a mix of strange nostalgia and something stale that one does not quite understand how it has survived this long. And to see the instrument, it’s antiquey-looking — but intricate and beautiful as well.

As I mentioned before, it was the carousel’s birthday, and so they also had free cake for everyone. I, of course, can never pass up cake, so I waited in line for this yummy cake with the other Hartfordians — kids and adults. There were also quite a number of what seemed to be homeless people in line. Of course this makes sense, but there was a weird, multi-layered irony to it. It had a ring of Marie Antoinette’s alleged words, “Let them eat cake.” My friend Lara has more recently jokingly accused me of taking cake out of the mouths of the homeless. How is it that people come to be humiliated to the point where they stand in line for free cake because it is food? Let me add to this, and bear with me as I make my second point about the irony.

When we were on the carousel, I looked up for the brass rings — or the gold rings, as Holden Caulfield calls them — and I saw no brass rings. One hears about reaching for the brass ring on a carousel. Metaphorically, of course, it is meant to convey the idea of striving for something that seems just out of reach. It even has a sort of capitalist feel to it — that if you work really hard, strive to succeed, yes, you too can become rich, or in this case, grab the brass ring. I see this as the big lie of capitalism, because that belief system is not true. Timing, privilege, and access have a lot to do with whether or no one will succeed. Yes, hard work helps pave that way, but it is wrong to say that alone will bring success in the capitalist society in large part because a capitalist society relies on a large working class — a hard-working class. Keep ’em wanting more, and you’ll get more out of ’em. So here the carousel stands, the brass ring metaphor hanging in the air, and those who obviously have not benefitted from capitalism are waiting in line for cake.

On another note regarding the brass ring and Catcher in the Rye, I looked for the literal ring and didn’t see any. I have always been a bit confused about it and could never quite picture it. I know that expression comes from carousels, but I still can’t visualize it. Anyway, here’s an explanation of the term brass ring.

Finally, to round out our carousel experience, my mother and I spent two days in New York city. We strolled through Central Park, looking for The Central Park Carousel. Our rides on this carousel were $1.50 each, not a bad price for a lovely ride. The one had a Wurlitzer 150, and frankly it did not sound as out of tune. I think this one might have been a bit faster than the one in Hartford, but the one in Hartford had real horse hair tails.

Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll become a carousel guru (or freak), but it was interesting to ride these two carousels. If you are around either of them, check them out.

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Updated Travel Posts

I updated the Ireland posts below. There are now photos and links. Enjoy!

Jiggity-Jig (days 12 and 13)

Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.

In our final hours in Ireland, the end of day 12, we all went out to the Indian restaurant. I don’t recall the name, but it was near the Town Hall Theatre, and it’s a damn good Indian restaurant, unlike the one in Dublin. We were the loud, obnoxious group of 15 Americans. It was a lovely birthday dinner. Actually, I had a pretty good birthday — had two rounds of singing, and the kids all chipped in and got me an Aran sweater. I knew I was getting it, because they asked me to pick it out, so of course it was in the most excellent taste. Jeff got a surprise. The kids had consulted me on the beautiful walking stick and Irish cap they gave him, and he was thrilled. It was a lovely moment of gratitude. Which brings me to comment on what wonderful kids we had on the trip. I joked to the Ard Einne innkeeper that they were MY thirteen children. The kids later commented that 1980 and 1981 were BIG years for me. These kids are smart, polite, talented, adorable, grateful, and most of all, fun!

We woke early the next day, had our last crappy breakfast, and got ready to go. When we met up at the breakfast place with suitcases in tow, we saw a lovely luxury bus waiting to take us to the Shannon airport. Alas, that bus was broken, and we had to instead pile into the 18 seater Corrib Village shuttle van. As the driver loaded the luggage into a precarious pile, my worry hormones kicked in. But we made it to Shannon okay.

What can I say? We had lunch, got on the airplane, and had a fairly uneventful flight. Most of us got to sit together, which was a big plus. Once we got to JFK, we sat on the runway for about 1.5 hours, tedious, yes. Finally we disembarked, went through customs, and found the K-O vans. We came home to happy parents and a sweet fiance who brought me flowers and birthday mini-cakes.

While we had some issues from time to time, the overall trip was great. I am so glad I went, because it was an affirming experience and a much needed break from wedding planning. I missed Sujal boatloads, so we have been spending lots of time together. Please see the above post.

Days 9, 10, 11, and part of 12

Hoo-boy — been a bit since I’ve written.  We had no access on Inis Mor (pronounced Inish Moor) — part of the Aran Islands, so I couldn’t do updates.

The finish to day 9 included a dinner at Cactus Jack’s or some goofy name like that.  May I recommend to my readers, when in Ireland, DO NOT go out for Mexican food.  Alas, it was raining and it was the only place we could find that would take 15.  The company was lovely at the least.

Day 10 we woke early to catch the shuttle to the ferry.  Of course there was no shuttle waiting for us.  As the group amassed by the breakfast cafe (which have I mentioned is terrible?), we got a bit dismayed by how late the shuttle was.  Finally the uber-cruiser pulled up — this silver-bullet looking behemoth — luxury liner of busses.  we were all very impressed with it, so the kids began to pile in while Jeff asked the driver if we were going to get to the ferry on time.  The driver replied, “Ferry?  I’m not going to the ferry.”

“Kids!  Wrong bus,” we yelled.  Several minutes later, a much sadder looking bus arrived with the world’s oldest man at the wheel.  We took off to the ferry, transferred to a different bus, and had a lovely ride along the coast.  We claimed our seats on the ferry, and as we got going, I went outside onto the back deck.  The salty spray of the seas coated my glasses and face.  I enjoyed the waves and the spray.  A man began chatting with me immediately as I approached the railing.  He was a former teacher (about my age) from Brookline — though he is originally from Ireland.  Then his fiance came over to us and we talked all about wedding plans.  It was nice to have some adult chat time as I chatted with them for the whole ride.

Things got a bit chaotic as we disembarked on Inis Mor..  Where were we going?  How were we getting there — lots of ideas, no hard decisions.  The night before we decided on a 22k hike.  The innkeepers that we called suggested bikes instead.  It was a supremely beautiful day — sunny and clear, breezy.  We ended up renting bikes, and the innkeeper took our bags to the inn.  After getting the “rules,” helmuts, and bikes, we were off.  We rode on the left side, of course, single file as this little caravan.  Before long, there were mechanical issues with bikes.  Hannah’s gears weren’t shifting, Collin’s chain fell off, etc.  We fixed those glitches, and we rode on to the ruins of a little abbey.  At this point, while I am about as athletic as they make them, I was exhausted from not just the pedaling uphill but also the additional weight I was carrying.  Brendan and Alex helped me by taking portions of the weight.  We explored the ruins and climbed up a hill where the view was exquisite.  This ride was along the coast, so the view consisted of the abbey ruins, grasses, stone walls, and then waves and waves and waves.  It is really an amazing island.

picture on Inis Mor

 Then we continued on, stopping for ponies and traps that went by.  Again, we experienced a few mechanical failures, and finally with a sandy beach up just ahead, Zach’s bike broke beyond repair — the whatchamacallit broke.  Zach was our bike fix-it guy, but even this was beyond his expertise.  So we walked the bike to the beach, where Jeff and I tried using our cell phones to contact the bike shop or the inn, but sadly we had no reception.  The kids were enjoying the beach with its sinking qualities — you know how when you go to the beach and you step on the wet sand, it’s like walking on thin ice that breaks — it can hold some weight but then sinks down about 2 inches — sand like that.

Finally Alex suggested that we just ride back to the bike shop to get them to bring a new bike, and Alex and I were off.  I figured I’d “take one for the team” by letting Jeff continue on as I did the extra riding.  Jeff took a large group to Dun Aengus while Collin, Laura, Max, and Brendan waited with Zach and his broken bike.  I was feeling heroic, riding back the “quick” road — the downhill road.  Well it was downhill, except for the giant incline we first had to climb.  So off like speeding bullets we went…for about 10 feet.  I needed to stop several times going up the hill to try to catch my breath.  Alex was kindly patient with me, though he had little choice.  We passed more ruins of abbeys, a statue of Christ, many little houses, stone walls, cows, sheep, roosters, and more stone walls.  The road was high up on the isalnd (it was quite a climb), so it had amazing views all around.  When I asked Alex at the bike shop if he enjoyed the views, he said he didn’t look around, he instead was focused on following me, on getting to the bike shop.  Lovely lad, implying that all I care about are views and not poor bikeless Zach.  Hmpf!  I can multi-task.  At the top of the island, the cows mooed and a rooster cock-a-doodle-do’d.  I responded with my own cock-a-doodle-do, and all hell broke loose among the cows.  They began making stange sounds that grew louder.  It was humorous for us.  At one point on the climb, as the cows were mooing, Alex said, “Hoj, they’re cheering you on!”

picture of Inis Mor cows

The bike shop drove us back with our bikes plus the new one for Zach.  When we got there, the kids wanted to join the others at Dun Aengus, so we set off.  But I was exhausted.  I needed to rest.  I told the kids that they could go, and that I would wait for them.  But then Collin had left his camera at the beach, so we went back for that.  We decided to just head for the inn.  We rode into town (Kilronan) and sat in an outdoor cafe with sodas to rest a bit, playing a little game where we cast the people in our lives with movie actors. Thus we set out to cast the entire cast of our trip.  About an hour or so later, Jeff arrived with the others, all saying how amazing it was.  They said it was infinitely more impressive than the already very impressive Cliffs of Moher.  Then we were all sad, but figured we could go the next AM.  We began our ride to the inn, and since we were all a bit clueless, we went down wrong roads, or should I more correctly say we went UP wrong roads.  We finally found it and climbed the hill to Ard Einne, our guesthouse. 

picture of my room at Ar Einne

Ard Einne was a great place.  It had the whole victorian quaint thing going on, but what was especially wonderful about it was the amazing views it gave us.  Also, the hospitality was great.  We had dinner with them, a four course meeal — the soup was very good.  (The chef was offended that not all of the kids ate everything on their plates.)  I called Sujal from my room, my room with two big picture windows, both showing sea, stone walls, green upon green, cows — and Irish wonderland. 

After dinner, the kids wanted a writing session, so we did some postcard poetry.  I went to bed early, but sadly I had a restless night.  As the evening came to a close, grey clouds were rolling in.  In the morning, it was raining.  We couldn’t go to Dun Aengus, and furthermore, most of us had pretty sore butts from riding so much the previous day.  I was physically exhausted.  Even my lungs ached.  We had breakfast at the inn, and then we got shuttles to Kilronan.  We all gave the Aran Sweater Shop lots of our money, and then we boarded the ferry.

It was an uneventful ride back, and when we returned to Galway, Jeff and I had lunch at the King’s Head Pub where we had yummy chodwer. We returned to campus after getting tea, and I took a long, hot shower, which felt so good!  In the evening, we split up for dinner, and I went with Heather, Hannah, Laura, Molly, Caroline, and Alex to the Druid Lane restaurant.  It was a lovely dinner.  I had salmon and risotto and then bread pudding (finally!) for dessert.  Hannah wasn’t feeling so hot, so we went straight home.  Most of us were pretty logey from the dramamine we took for the choppy ferry ride home.

This morning (my birthday!), I was going to rent a car to take some kids up to the Connemarra, but the weather was looking inhospitable, and I was extremely tired.  I spread the word, had breakfast, and went to sleep.  We were meeting at 10:30 to have a writing session, but I slept until 11:30, which was much needed and glorious.  As I strolled into the writing session, the kids belted out a harmonizing rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Then we came into town for lunch.  Today is a day of souvenir shopping. Tonight is the big last dinner blowout!  More later.

Day 8 (and part of 9)

Yesterday we took a bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher.  I have to take this moment to rant a bit.  I’m really not a fan of bus tours in general, and while the bus was not full of blue hairs (which I realize I will one day be — and maybe then I’ll enjoy bus tours), it was full of bad jokes, quick stops, and superficial sightseeing.  I like to explore at my leisure, even if we have a time schedule.  Also, when I explore, I read up on what I’m seeing.  And while a guide explains things, I can’t see the map, and I don’t know how to spell the names, etc.  It didn’t stop me from reading up on it this AM, but I like to go with guide book in hand and steer the exploration, or at least have a say in it.

picture of the Burren

So, we first went to the Burren, a section of Ireland in County Clare that is full of blocks of dolomite.  It is wonderfully rocky, but between the crags grow tufts of grass and wildflowers.  Farmers work the region, mainly by having their sure-footed cows graze on the lowlands in the summer and the hilltops in the winters.  John, a young man whose family owns a 1,000 acre farm (yes, like the novel), gave us a tour of his land.  We hiked up one of the dolomite-ridden hills, enjoyed luscious views of green countryside dappled with brown and lines of stone fencing (which the British hired the Irish to build during the great famine so as to keep people employed without actually building and economic infrastructure, thus keeping Ireland under its colonizing thumb).  It makes me want to build a stone fence, and actually, we have some missing fence.  Perhaps that will be my post-wedding project.

Which, come to think of it, while I have missed Sujal terribly (I woke with such a sadness and longing for him this morning), I haven’t thought a hell of a lot about wedding planning, which frankly has been nice. 

Nonetheless, John, our walking guide, was handsome and all the kids commented on his handsomeness, though I believed the word they used was “hot.”  Even past visitors remarked about his attractiveness on a graffiti wall.  When Alex said he wasn’t sure how Sujal compared, I assured him that while John was handsome, Sujal is irresistible.  On our walk, we lay down at one point to “feel what it is like to be a cow.”  It was a marvelous walk.

Then we hopped back on the bus for a very quick stop at some ancient burial site.  And I frankly have little to know idea what it was.  We had next to no time to read any placards, so I saw some burial site, and I have photos of it….  Woo-hoo.  I also photographed sheep.

picture of a dolman

picture of sheep

Okay, so I found out it was the Poulnabrone Dolman. Dolmans are ancient burial sites located all around western Europe.

picture of Cliffs of Moher

Then we went to the Cliffs of Moher, which were quite beautiful.  It was also tourist-infested, but cool.  It wasn’t until we were on our way back that we stopped at lower cliffs (cliffs nonetheless) that I was really wowed.  Here I could feel a much closer relationship to the rock and water.  Also, there were nowheres near as many people, so I could really focus on the sound of the wind and water.

picture of lower cliffs

Then we stopped at a castle — don’t recall the name, but I have it marked in the guidebook.  It’s now a banquet hall.  What was great were all of those little towns, farmers’ markets, coastlines, etc that we sadly drove right on by.  It made me want to rent a car to go exploring, so I may do that and take some kids on a little adventure.

We came back to the rooms to find we were locked out.  Our card keys stopped working.  Sigh, another glitch, but we just got new card keys.  Jeff has locked himself out now many times.  Several of the kids have as well.  The card keys are a pain in the arse!  Then we raced into town for dinner.  I took 10 kids to an Indian restaurant, which was much better this time.  It was a lot of fun.  I helped kids to navigate the menu, and we had a good time.  Then we went to see this play, “How the West was Won” by Peadar de Burca.  It was at the Town Hall Theatre.  This was a VERY different play from the one we saw the other night, farcical, more Beckettian.  It was about poor (semi-homeless??)  people from Galway at a time when Reagan came to Galway (1984) to get an honorary degree from University College of Galway.  It was odd, hard to follow at times, and funny.  It liked it better than “A Month in the Country”, but it did go on a bit too long.  I was curious to know what the kids were thinking during the first act, because it was such a non-linear, non-traditional play, and mainly they seemed to like it.  Then we strolled home just in time before they closed the gate on us.

This AM we did some writing and a longer workshop session.  It was good to hear the variety of pieces, just about everyone’s.  Then we went into town, and I had lunch with the girls at Busker Brown’s.  We had paninis, which were good.  The girls ate there the other day, too.  While Caroline and I were in the toilet (the word used here), there was a little girl who got locked into a stall.  When we came in, her older sister was trying to help here out.  The older sister was maybe 6, but could not fit underneath the stall door.  She went and got her mother.  When the mother came in,she was instructing the little girl how to get out, and the girl would say she was at the door trying to move the latch but could not.  Then Caroline got in the stall next door, climbed onto the toilet and peered over at the little girl who was NOT at the door trying to unlock it.  Instead she was on the toilet seat, sitting there saying, I can’t get out.  Caroline finally instructed her that she first needed to get off of the toilet, then go to the door, grab the circle, and pull it toward the wall.  Caroline will be a very good mother some day.

And then I came to this very expensive internet cafe, and here I am.  Tomorrow we leave for the Aran Islands — specifically Inis Mor. 

Days 6 and 7

We moved on day 6 — the 15th, which also happened to be Heather’s 17th birthday. I can’t say that’s the best time to have a birthday — the day one is taking a train across a country. After we were all packed, the day started ever so slightly painfully in that the 3 cabs we had arranged for did not show up. Once they finally did, about 40 mins late, we raced over to Hueston station with little time to spare to get our train tickets. When we got to the station, it was easy enough to see that our train was leaving from Track 4, easy enough to see right in front of us. I just found out that Jeff got in line to get our tickets — in the line for the men’s’ room! Alas, we got our tickets just in time, and all was fine. Then we ran to the train, had issues with getting all the luggage on, and finally sat together, for the most part. A few kids needed sit with other riders. I sat with an elderly man, and in regular Heidi form, I began to chat him up. Before long, I knew I was now not going to get any reading done on this little train trip. Soon Graham came and sat with us, because I think he was intrigued by the old fellow. As we watched the green countryside go by, seeing lots of cows, horses, sheep, rustic stone walls, and other things Irish, the Irish gentleman spun yarns for us. He told us about his wife, Greta, now dead, whom he call “pal.” He showed us pictures of her, and then pictures of his model trains. He showed us pictures of himself from his boyhood. He made all sorts of wise cracks, and he was not only congenial, but really funny! Then he went to the snack car and got us tea and cakes. He was really quite an incredible man. I know Graham enjoyed his company as much as I did if not more.

picture of Graham and old man

As I mentioned, this was a day of travels, that had not gotten off to the best start. There were many instances of crabbiness (on the parts of many of us). It took us awhile, but we finally got transportation to Corrib Village, which is university housing for University College, Galway. Galway itself is a cute town, and the brightly colored houses made us think of Bray, though it is certainly bigger than Bray. The streets are windy here as well, so I am bound to get lost.

Once we got to Corrib Village and got into our rooms, we were delighted to find that the accommodations were MUCH nicer here than in Dublin. The only problem was that there were many Jimmies in our apt’s. Kids were in apt’s in pairs, which meant the two remaining rooms in each apt. were occupied by Jimmies.

So we had to all leave our rooms and get Corrib Village to rearrange our assignments, and we finally ended up in the same building. After we settled in, we went out for a group dinner in Galway to celebrate Heather’s birthday. it ended up being quite a nice evening. We scouted out places for shopping and relaxing the next day, which brings me to day 7…

We woke early and I took four kids on a walk along the river. It was a drizzly Irish morn. Then we had breakfast here, which was a less than appealing breakfast, but it was fine. After some longer writing exercises in honor of Blooms day – I read my favorite passage from Ulysses, we all split up to explore Galway. I shopped a bit, had lunch, made some accommodation arrangements, and watched a bit of a football match in a pub. Making the arrangements was a bit of a cultural adventure, as was ordering a black and tan in a pub – not something the Irish drink. I thought they did. Silly me.

When I was making he accommodations, I was trying to get room on the Aran Island of Inismor. I told the woman at the tourist center that we could also use cots, if the place had them. She said, “The youngest in your group is 15, right?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Cots are for babies.” Apparently, in Ireland, a cot is a crib. Silly me.

Then this evening Molly and Hannah made a multi-course gourmet dinner. It was lovely. Tomorrow we go sightseeing on a tour bus. More to come.

Days 3, 4, and 5

Has it been this long already? Hoo-boy. We’ve been very busy, as one can imagine. As I mentioned in my last post Jeff and Alex ran, and I mean ran, to catch the bus. On day 3, Alex explained that indeed they were not running to catch the bus but because Alex began taunting Jeff, so Jeff took off to prove he could out run Alex. And again, I was VERY impressed by just how fast Jeff ran! We all were. But here’s the funny thing — as I was walking to get to this internet cafe, lost as all hell in Dublin — I do not know why, but I just do not get the geography of this city. I’m generally pretty good with navigating, but all the twisties and turnies — I’m just really lost in this city — Nonetheless, on my way here, I saw some more damn fast running. This kid came running down the street in my direction. He was carrying a 6 pack of something. He was running at a pretty good pace — teenager, perhaps in his early 20’s. But leaving a trail of smoke in his wake came a thin man running out of the Centra (a convenience store), not only at top speed, but with this amazing determination in his face. This was not just about the stolen 6 pack of whatever, but about the “principal.” I wondered if he was a storeowner or merely an employee. Either way, to chase like such madness after a stolen 6 pack, it seemed extreme. A semi-circle of a crowd looked as the kid rounded the corner and the pursuer began to slow. I peered into the store, because I was now passing, and I saw no other employees. Frankly, that moment would have been the best time to lift whatever anyone wanted.

Jeff and I were just talking about the alpha-male quality that happens, and a student was mentioning alpha-females earlier. It’s funny how this exists. As we were riding up O’Connell this morning on the #10, I was looking at the smattering of people walking down the street. Humans have all these clothes, distinguishing apparatus, bits that make us “human” — but we are animals, and we behave as such. It’s funny to think if we took away the clothes — the distinguishing clothes — how much less “human” we might actually be. Or is this just psycho-drivel after a long day?

Along our hike

Each day, we begin with various writing exercises, and then we go off on our “touring.” So on Monday (day 3), Jeff needed to go to the airport to go meet Heather. I took all 12 kids on a hike between Bray and Greystone — the Bray Head trail. It was such a wonderful hike. Bray is an adorable town, brightly colored row houses, sea coast, narrow streets. It felt like Ireland. The kids seemed to really enjoy the hike. Some of them wanted to climb up alternate trails, but being the nervous Nellie that I am, we stuck to the trail. One student, Zach, has a very good eye for photography. It was fun to watch him shoot pictures. Graham loved the sea, the green, the nature. I was thrilled to see real Irish sheep. (You should have heard their accents.) (Speaking of accents, I’ve heard it parodied so much — especially my old roommate Jonathan. He would always do his wannabe irish accent — that when I hear irish people speaking, I sometimes think it’s one of the parodies.) Views were amazing. I had us sit and write for awhile, which was a great opportunity to take the moment down.

Along our hike

The hike was 9k, and we came into the town of Greystone. It was equally wonderful as Bray. We split up for lunch, though most of us sat in the same restaurant. Finally we caught the bus back to UCD. Some kids went out in the evening. Jeff and I went to an Indian restaurant for dinner. Note to self: don’t order Indian food in Ireland.

Day 4 was museum-laden. In the morning we went to Trinity to go to see the library exhibit of the Book of Kells. It was a very cool exhibit, and I found myself most drawn to the colors in the decoration of the book. It was cool to read about the pigments. One of the book, though I don’t think it was the book of Kells, had this gold pigment that was truly gold (in tone). Amazing. But honestly, my favorite part of that exhibit was that they had a Beckett exhibit as well. There were all of these letters he wrote, texts, manuscripts, notebooks, etc. There was one photo that I loved. It was of a play rehearsal. In the background, two actors were slightly blurred, and silhouetted in the foreground was a sharp image of Beckett (from behind). It was a very cool shot.

After lunch, crepes — yum, we went to either the history museum or the national gallery. I opted to go with Graham, Sam, and Zach to the history museum, a grand museum. It was pretty cool. The others who went to the National Gallery liked that museum, too, though Jeff was heart broken that the Caravaggio that he’d been hoping to see was on loan elsewhere.

That afternoon, I went for tea with all of the girls, which was so much fun. We went to this cute place, The Queen of Tarts, and had very yummy desserts. Finally, I went to a pub for about an hour and just sat and wrote. it was so fun to sit and listen to all of the different accents, languages, and havering. Oh wait — that’s Scotland!

Finally, in the evening, we went to see “A Month in the Country,” a play adapted by Brian Friel from the Turgenev short story. Frankly, I didn’t really like it. Most of the kids really enjoyed it, and I thought parts were really funny, but it did not pull off serious well. It was melodramatic and flat. Though, my dislike of the play led to a great bus ride home discussion with Max, which leads me to the fact that we have really great kids here with us! We really do.

Day 5: Today, I led the writing exercises this morning. We then took off for the James Joyce Center. We had to go in two groups, and by the time Jeff and his group got there, we were ready to skidaddle, because the exhibits were not quite open yet. ‘Twas very sad.

The we split up for the afternoon. I spent another day with the girls and Alex. We had lunch at the Badass Cafe (Caroline suggested it…), and then we went out to Kilmainham. Molly, Alex, Laura, and I went to the Kilmainham Gaol (Jail) and Hannah, Caroline, and Heather went to the modern art gallery. We all had fun at our respective places. The jail was really interesting, but the best part came after as we were leaving. I asked this older Irish man if he would take out picture. As Alex was trying to show him how to use the camera, he held the lens up to his eye, ready to take the picture. Alex tried to help him by setting the camera right. After several more turns of the camera, and finally the man once again putting the lens up to his eye, we figured that he HAD to be pulling our leg. But after a long time, we had a successful shot of us taken. He was very funny. He told us he was taking the picture “the irish way.”

We met back at the spire, and we all went out to dinner at Cafe Una, a very nice Irish cafe. We had a nice, slow dinner, though kids began trickling out after a short time. Finally, Jeff and I were left to relax and chat. I left and came here. So here I am. And there you are. Hi.

Okay, bye. More adventures to follow.

Jimmy update: on day 3, Jimmy left the apt. We all miss him and anything that goes wrong — we blame on him. It’s very convenient.

Day 2 in Dublin

We had a very good day. Can I say it began last night? No, I guess not, but I’ll tell you about last night. The accommodations are, well, if anyone knows the accommodations at Long Beach, Long Beach cottages 18 and 19 have a few more stars. We’re staying at the University College Dublin in the dorms. There is a little grocery store on campus, and they have quite a nice size selection for being convenience store-esque, but the produce was mainly rotten. Nonetheless, we bought potatoes (which Jeff said were picked long before the potato famine), sad iceberg lettuce, semi-sad red peppers, bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and baguettes. We had not cooking utensils (pot/pan), so we made do. ‘Twas a lovely dinner all told. It was like we were one big family. One student, Caroline, remarked, “This evening makes me feel better. We’re more like a family” — or something along those lines. Jeff and I later enjoyed tea and digestives. Yum! MOST of us went to bed early, by 9.

This morning I was awoken by knocks at the apartment door. See, the 15 of us are staying in 4 different apartments. Each apartment has 4 single bedrooms. So beginning at 5AM, knocking begins. Thinking it might be one of the kids, I got the door, and it was some bloke looking for his friend. Ugh, no. I happily went back to sleep. at 6:30, another knock woke me. Same thing. It was a girl looking for a friend. By this time, I was wide awake, so i got up and went for a stroll around and outside campus. It’s out in the ‘burbs, so it feels kind of desolate around campus. I came back and began to get breakfast ready. The kids came in for breakfast, and Jeff led us in some writing exercises, which was fun. We shared pieces, and it was a delicious way to start the day. Soon we piled on the double decker bus (we almost always sit on top), an headed to the Dublin Writers Museum. I really wanted to go, because there was a one man “play” about the writers. I have to say, I was disappointed. it wasn’t bad, but it reminded me of what I used to do at the Edgar Allan Poe house, sans the “voices” he did. The museum was very small, and they said they were going to give us a tour, but it was one of those pre-recorded audio tours. It was a let down.

Then I had lunch with Hannah, Molly, and Caroline. We just went to a sandwich shop, but then we stumbled into the Temple Bar district (Bar was a Viking word for street — so no, I did not take my kids into a tavern), which was this really cool little area. yes, it was littered with tourists, but it was fun. there were tons of little restaurants, shops, cafes, etc. Then, after having lectured the kids on being places ON TIME, we realized we were going to be late, so we booked it back to the meeting spot. Caroline said I could blame it on her. Instead, I decided to teach her something useful — the ol’ set your watch back to the time you should have been there routine. Her parents will LOVE me.

We decided more “wandering” time was in order, because it was uncharacteristically sunny weather. I called Sujal, went into a fancy shop, and then ran into some kids back in the Temple Bar District. We went to an outdoor cafe and shot the breeze. it was a lovely afternoon. Once again, after having lectured the kids in the AM, we we ran late getting back to campus. We had a fun busride back, complete with taking lots of pictures. When we got back to Campus, Brendan and Collin made dinner — and they bought a pot, so we had spaghetti, except they bought tomato puree instead of sauce. After giving them a lot of sh*t for it, we went and got sauce.

Oh — how could I forget! As we were heading to the bus stop, when many of the kids were late, hence he lecture, Jeff and I saw the boys coming. Collin told us there was “some guy” in Jeff’s room. Jeff and Alex promptly ran off to investigate. While they were gone, I delivered my fabled hypocritical lecture. When Jeff and Alex were coming back, the # 10 bus was pulling up, and they started running to the stop. I began as a light jog, but soon Jeff was booking. They kids were beside themselves laughing, and then Alex pulled ahead. It was a beautiful moment of father-son (hee-hee) bonding.

So here was the story. The “some guy” was Jimmy. When they went in the apt, they heard the shower running, so Jeff knocked and asked who was in there. Of course the response of “Jimmy” came back to Jeff. Soon Jimmy came out of the shower in a towel, and Jeff tried to explain that the room Jimmy was staying in was already taken by one of our students. Jeff went to complain, and basically, the Jimmy problem is still unresolved. Needless to say, there have been many Jimmy Jokes.

More soon, as the adventures unfold.