Paris
My trip started off with finding my way from the airport to my hotel. With the help of several kind local french men I was at my hotels doorstep. The Lorraine Hotel. You have to have a good sense of humour or really low self esteem to stay in a dive like this. My dodgy hotel was next to one of the main train stations. I did have a great view of the intersection and multiple drug deals no doubt. Well, I wasn't planning on spending much time in my hotel with a shower where the closet once probably was and when you book a room with a shower expect that. The toliet was shared by the floor, thankfully my floor's toliet seat was merely for decorative purposes... oh my is right!
I had this fantasy of how magical Paris would be which in reality it wasn't even one of the most beautiful cities I've been to (Florence). The Notre Dame and the Latin Quarter area was my favourite with lots of restaurants and shops. I would say it was the safest area.
Can't complain about the weather so I wanted to walk along the river over to the Eiffel tower. After being approached by two handfulls of street gangs (which are different than home-g gangs in Canada or the states) I decided to find a bus tour and be with the tourists instead of the people targeting tourists, especially me by myself. I was underwhelmed by the Eiffel Tower. It photographs very well but a lot smaller than I had dreamed. That day I mostly rode the bus tours. I was hoping to go to the Museum of Modern Art but never made it in time after the tour stopped. And the next day made it to the picasso museum but it was closed for renovations :(
My third day I went to find the Sacre-coeur which was beautiful! Oh it was magical up on it's high hill top over looking the city. I just had to get passed these african men trying to attach bracelets to my wrist yelling "Gift!" "Admission" what they should have been saying was "Red rover! Red rover!" Aggressive jerks. After that I was literally stalked by a young man and hid in a clothing shop where people didn't speak-a the-english-a! I waited it out and eventually got away.
I only share these stories because people are so in love with the idea of Paris when actuality there are better places. And Paris was the first place I feared for my safety constantly to not enjoy my trip. But I survived it is the point. I got a couple photos and grabbed some good greek, lebanese, food and obviously a stale baguette and this delicious chocolate filled pastry I could have rolled in a ball and popped in my mouth it was so light and fresh! MMMmm. A good way to end the trip and with a salmon quiche which I didn't know was salmon until I got it as none of the labels were in english but good none-the-less.
Another interesting thing I really adored about Paris was these bridges over the river covered in locks. The story is couple go there and attach the lock throwing away the key as a symbol of eternal love. That's kind of nice, delusional, but nice.
So that was my trip to Paris! I ended Portrush with a day at Barry's amusements with my bestie Irish friend Meabh doing bumper cars (twice) and all my favourite non-scary rides. We played the 10p machines which I got a tad obsessed with and then had a beautiful lunch looking out my window. A ramore head walk was necessary and a walk around ramore head rarely ends without a trip to the old mans pub the Harbour pub! We continued a little pub crawl and drank like it was our full time job, as you do. So sad to leave and my beautiful apartment. Dear god!
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Thursday, 28 June 2012
A County called Fermanagh
I recommend being unemployed to all of you reading this. It feels like when I first arrived in Ireland (except with more debt).
Yesterday I got back from a week in County Fermanagh out on the farm in a town I'm ashamed to say I still don't know how to spell but it's on Lough Erne Lake if that helps! Beautiful and peaceful besides a couple craic-filled nights. I ended up falling in love with this donkey out on the farm. I didn't know I even liked donkeys but this one is beautiful! I call it Donkey. Donkey's are surprisingly popular in Ireland. They even have donkey races in a small town down South in August. I'm not that obsessed.
During the weekend my cousin Sinead and I ventured down South to a town called Carrick-on Shannon. PS, also another popular Hen and stag party place! Crazy Irish. We visited this 300 year old Thatch pub just outside town that my moms brother ended up landing a job and room while cycling around Ireland a few years back. What a gem! It was amazing with all these antiques cluttered on any available surface not excluding the ceiling which held old farm equipment I've never seen and walls covered in character paintings and portraits of the thatch (one which has a corner missing because someone needed to roll a cigarette a few years back). Seriously! It was great. When we walked in at 8pm (when it opens) a 84 year old gentleman named pierce greeted us and was pulling pints for me in-between his football match. Nobody showed up really except Dublin Patty and his separated wife of twenty years and a trio from Notting Hill until the music started at 11pm. The band by the way was owner Gene who played the guitar, accordion, harmonica and sang. I could have stayed there all night but we had to hit the twisty rural road back home in the rain. I'll go back. You should too!
And drum roll please! To commemorate the Queen's visit to Enniskillen I got a tattoo! Just kidding. But I really did get the tattoo. I just never went to see the Queen while she was in town. After two failed attempts at getting a tattoo at this mysterious drop in only guy's house out in the country I went to a well known parlour. It was pretty rad because right when he started my tattoo Nirvana's Teen Spirit was playing... perfect. Sadly it was only to be followed by Arosmith's armageddon song. I hate that song. Anyways, the tattoo I love and I'm pretty proud of myself for making the biggest commitment of my life, thus far. It's only permanent.
Anywho! Off to Paris in three days and hopefully there's some good craic about town with the Irish Golf open going on just down the road... I swear I saw that Rory golfer character across the street when I was heading home but I could have been mistaken. I'm awful at spotting my friends never mind famous people!
Yesterday I got back from a week in County Fermanagh out on the farm in a town I'm ashamed to say I still don't know how to spell but it's on Lough Erne Lake if that helps! Beautiful and peaceful besides a couple craic-filled nights. I ended up falling in love with this donkey out on the farm. I didn't know I even liked donkeys but this one is beautiful! I call it Donkey. Donkey's are surprisingly popular in Ireland. They even have donkey races in a small town down South in August. I'm not that obsessed.
During the weekend my cousin Sinead and I ventured down South to a town called Carrick-on Shannon. PS, also another popular Hen and stag party place! Crazy Irish. We visited this 300 year old Thatch pub just outside town that my moms brother ended up landing a job and room while cycling around Ireland a few years back. What a gem! It was amazing with all these antiques cluttered on any available surface not excluding the ceiling which held old farm equipment I've never seen and walls covered in character paintings and portraits of the thatch (one which has a corner missing because someone needed to roll a cigarette a few years back). Seriously! It was great. When we walked in at 8pm (when it opens) a 84 year old gentleman named pierce greeted us and was pulling pints for me in-between his football match. Nobody showed up really except Dublin Patty and his separated wife of twenty years and a trio from Notting Hill until the music started at 11pm. The band by the way was owner Gene who played the guitar, accordion, harmonica and sang. I could have stayed there all night but we had to hit the twisty rural road back home in the rain. I'll go back. You should too!
And drum roll please! To commemorate the Queen's visit to Enniskillen I got a tattoo! Just kidding. But I really did get the tattoo. I just never went to see the Queen while she was in town. After two failed attempts at getting a tattoo at this mysterious drop in only guy's house out in the country I went to a well known parlour. It was pretty rad because right when he started my tattoo Nirvana's Teen Spirit was playing... perfect. Sadly it was only to be followed by Arosmith's armageddon song. I hate that song. Anyways, the tattoo I love and I'm pretty proud of myself for making the biggest commitment of my life, thus far. It's only permanent.
Anywho! Off to Paris in three days and hopefully there's some good craic about town with the Irish Golf open going on just down the road... I swear I saw that Rory golfer character across the street when I was heading home but I could have been mistaken. I'm awful at spotting my friends never mind famous people!
Tuesday, 19 June 2012
Where Rainbows end
Okay, I totally stole that from the latest Cecilia Ahern book
I'm reading. I just always seem to read her books at the right times.
Last night was my last shift at work. As my mom’s cousin Myra would say, "Yee - hoo!" I am now un-employed until my departure on July 9th. That's right, I'm coming home but not before one final Euro-trip to Paris on Canada Day, no-less.
I've seen a lot on my travels. But you can never really see enough, can you? I've been very lucky and very unlucky, it can't all be rainbows!
Last week my friend Andrew took me out on his job sites as he's a town planner and we took the coastal route to towns I've never been too. The roads were proper rural Irish roads along steep cliffs which on-coming traffic tended to drive outside the lines. It was only slightly terrifying. I met Randall's goat, hiked through mud to see really old farm houses, forest and hilltops with rocks that called castles (kidding) I conquered my fear and curiosity by crossing Carrick-a-Reede Rope Bridge. There has to be some deep seeded metaphor here as the bridge means, "a rock in the road". Ya, got it.
This past weekend I went 'camping' with my often-talked about friends Meabh and Andrew to Westport in the south in a County called Mayo, if you've ever heard of such a ridiculous name for a County. The landscape I saw through the fog on the way down and my reclined hung-over position on the way back was beautiful. If you ever plan on having a stag or hen party I suggest Westport as that seems to be where everyone in Ireland goes. While there, we visited Matt Malone's Pub and on the way up sipped delicious French wine in a castle and had a pic-nic at Yates's grave. The Irish love their graveyards!
I'm off to Co. Fermanagh for a long weekend and hoping to visit the Thatch pub my uncle worked/lived in while touring Ireland a couple years back. I'll be staying at my family’s remote, peaceful homestead on a lake and maybe I'll catch a fish! Weather allowing. It is June, right?
Last night was my last shift at work. As my mom’s cousin Myra would say, "Yee - hoo!" I am now un-employed until my departure on July 9th. That's right, I'm coming home but not before one final Euro-trip to Paris on Canada Day, no-less.
I've seen a lot on my travels. But you can never really see enough, can you? I've been very lucky and very unlucky, it can't all be rainbows!
Last week my friend Andrew took me out on his job sites as he's a town planner and we took the coastal route to towns I've never been too. The roads were proper rural Irish roads along steep cliffs which on-coming traffic tended to drive outside the lines. It was only slightly terrifying. I met Randall's goat, hiked through mud to see really old farm houses, forest and hilltops with rocks that called castles (kidding) I conquered my fear and curiosity by crossing Carrick-a-Reede Rope Bridge. There has to be some deep seeded metaphor here as the bridge means, "a rock in the road". Ya, got it.
This past weekend I went 'camping' with my often-talked about friends Meabh and Andrew to Westport in the south in a County called Mayo, if you've ever heard of such a ridiculous name for a County. The landscape I saw through the fog on the way down and my reclined hung-over position on the way back was beautiful. If you ever plan on having a stag or hen party I suggest Westport as that seems to be where everyone in Ireland goes. While there, we visited Matt Malone's Pub and on the way up sipped delicious French wine in a castle and had a pic-nic at Yates's grave. The Irish love their graveyards!
I'm off to Co. Fermanagh for a long weekend and hoping to visit the Thatch pub my uncle worked/lived in while touring Ireland a couple years back. I'll be staying at my family’s remote, peaceful homestead on a lake and maybe I'll catch a fish! Weather allowing. It is June, right?
Monday, 11 June 2012
When in Rome..
Visit the Canadian Embassy. They're really nice, (obviously). As if I don't spend enough time in self reflection the embassy made me write it out on paper. Every date, address and job over the past seven years! I highly recommend you do this and see how you feel after, besides headachy.
Despite a few non-alcoholic induced hiccups I'm happy I had the chance to spend five days in Italy. I had great weather, some really great food and Italy was the first place where I felt like a foreigner, and it's good to be a minority sometimes I think to keep you right.
I landed in Pisa. The air was warm which was a definite contrast to the cool Belfast airport air. I suggest only dedicating half a day to Pisa. It's amazing and slightly uncomfortable to see the Leaning Tower in person.
The following day I took a short train trip to Lucca it was in my tour book and I was lucky enough to stumble across the main attraction due to my extremely strong sense of direction. Ha ha! Then I secretly shadowed English speaking walking tour guides to see the rest, only slightly creepy I'm sure.
A bit of a detour as me and my passport parted ways around this point so I'm on the 5:45 am train to Rome! (PS, I have no love for that place.) I'll spare the 'humourous' details of my misfortunes that day which makes me wonder why when really shitty things happen people say, "Oh, one day you'll look back at all that and laugh!" I'm pretty sure I'll still be bitter but slightly smarter for it.
The only attraction I saw in Rome was a cardboard cut out of a Canadian Mountain Police saluting me. I can't remember the last time I saw one in person but felt oddly comforted by this none-the-less.
Um, a bit of interesting things I took with me from Rome (besides my Temporary Passport). People park in intersections. Seriously; leaving just enough room for a car to inch through if they so need to. And the homeless people that I did see were heartbreaking, they were about as old as the buildings I couldn't help but think about my granny sitting out there begging for money, (she'd probably be lecturing people too though with her crazy stories).
I made it in time to catch the last train to Florence! I love Florence, I could live there. Despite all the American tourists I really enjoyed the busyness and beauty this easily accessible city offered. AND FOOD! I finally had a chance to relax, eat and enjoy some vino.
I found this local gem recommended by a girl from my awesome Pisa hostel right outside the tower to visit this place called Trattoria Mario just around the corner from The Duomo Group, which is also a new odd obsession I’ve developed. It's stunning. Anyways, the food was amazing. Everyone sat with anyone and the staff were climbing over tables to take orders and deliver food. You know the food had to be good, right? My over-stuffed ravioli was silky and fresh and salty. I'll dream of it. The steaks looked like a religious experience and apparently that's what they're known for, if you're into steaks.
Later that night I found myself at an outdoor Ristoronte enjoying the best bruschetta in life. It was fresh, silky, salty, garlicky and crusty, don't-even-talk-to-me I'm eatting good! My Spaghetti tomato basil was delish too but a tad too salty... their noodles are much thinner than any I've had before and that was good. I also enjoyed three gelato's in Italy that I wanted to enjoy more than I did but how can ice cream be bad, really?
Of course my trip wouldn't be complete without being fingerprinted and mug shot by the UK Border control. Now, I did crack a smile when I was getting fingerprinted but that's another blog!
Despite a few non-alcoholic induced hiccups I'm happy I had the chance to spend five days in Italy. I had great weather, some really great food and Italy was the first place where I felt like a foreigner, and it's good to be a minority sometimes I think to keep you right.
I landed in Pisa. The air was warm which was a definite contrast to the cool Belfast airport air. I suggest only dedicating half a day to Pisa. It's amazing and slightly uncomfortable to see the Leaning Tower in person.
The following day I took a short train trip to Lucca it was in my tour book and I was lucky enough to stumble across the main attraction due to my extremely strong sense of direction. Ha ha! Then I secretly shadowed English speaking walking tour guides to see the rest, only slightly creepy I'm sure.
A bit of a detour as me and my passport parted ways around this point so I'm on the 5:45 am train to Rome! (PS, I have no love for that place.) I'll spare the 'humourous' details of my misfortunes that day which makes me wonder why when really shitty things happen people say, "Oh, one day you'll look back at all that and laugh!" I'm pretty sure I'll still be bitter but slightly smarter for it.
The only attraction I saw in Rome was a cardboard cut out of a Canadian Mountain Police saluting me. I can't remember the last time I saw one in person but felt oddly comforted by this none-the-less.
Um, a bit of interesting things I took with me from Rome (besides my Temporary Passport). People park in intersections. Seriously; leaving just enough room for a car to inch through if they so need to. And the homeless people that I did see were heartbreaking, they were about as old as the buildings I couldn't help but think about my granny sitting out there begging for money, (she'd probably be lecturing people too though with her crazy stories).
I made it in time to catch the last train to Florence! I love Florence, I could live there. Despite all the American tourists I really enjoyed the busyness and beauty this easily accessible city offered. AND FOOD! I finally had a chance to relax, eat and enjoy some vino.
I found this local gem recommended by a girl from my awesome Pisa hostel right outside the tower to visit this place called Trattoria Mario just around the corner from The Duomo Group, which is also a new odd obsession I’ve developed. It's stunning. Anyways, the food was amazing. Everyone sat with anyone and the staff were climbing over tables to take orders and deliver food. You know the food had to be good, right? My over-stuffed ravioli was silky and fresh and salty. I'll dream of it. The steaks looked like a religious experience and apparently that's what they're known for, if you're into steaks.
Later that night I found myself at an outdoor Ristoronte enjoying the best bruschetta in life. It was fresh, silky, salty, garlicky and crusty, don't-even-talk-to-me I'm eatting good! My Spaghetti tomato basil was delish too but a tad too salty... their noodles are much thinner than any I've had before and that was good. I also enjoyed three gelato's in Italy that I wanted to enjoy more than I did but how can ice cream be bad, really?
Of course my trip wouldn't be complete without being fingerprinted and mug shot by the UK Border control. Now, I did crack a smile when I was getting fingerprinted but that's another blog!
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
Portrush Adventures
The weather the past week has been uncommonly nice. The soft sandy beaches resemble what I can only imagine is a California lifestyle. But like all good things the weather is not lasting forever and I can see a change is coming. Thankfully I'll be in (fingers crossed) sunny Italy in three days time! Eeeek!
On Sunday my friends Meabh and Andrew took me on one of Andrews often-talked about never-personally-experienced long hikes; 10 miles around Giants Causeway. The views from the cliffs were both stunning and scary. They didn't understand why I was taking so many photos of cows but once I upload them onto my facebook page you'll see why. The weather was hot but the breeze and halfway picnic/pint stop at this little pub 'The Nook' helped keep the heat at bay.
The rocks were pretty neat to walk along at low tide but honestly not as beautiful as the sights from the heights.
They also took me to the smallest church in Ireland which luckily is located across from the beach with the cows! I know it sounds like I have a thing for cows now but weird to see them wondering on beaches, no? Anyways, this church or chapel was small. I would say a priest and two people comfortably... or a preist and one very round person. Cute place for a wedding anyways! Again pictures will be uploaded at some point.
Friday hoping to get to the Rope bridge which someone who is afraid of heights undoubtingly looks forward to! Weather permitting.
On Sunday my friends Meabh and Andrew took me on one of Andrews often-talked about never-personally-experienced long hikes; 10 miles around Giants Causeway. The views from the cliffs were both stunning and scary. They didn't understand why I was taking so many photos of cows but once I upload them onto my facebook page you'll see why. The weather was hot but the breeze and halfway picnic/pint stop at this little pub 'The Nook' helped keep the heat at bay.
The rocks were pretty neat to walk along at low tide but honestly not as beautiful as the sights from the heights.
They also took me to the smallest church in Ireland which luckily is located across from the beach with the cows! I know it sounds like I have a thing for cows now but weird to see them wondering on beaches, no? Anyways, this church or chapel was small. I would say a priest and two people comfortably... or a preist and one very round person. Cute place for a wedding anyways! Again pictures will be uploaded at some point.
Friday hoping to get to the Rope bridge which someone who is afraid of heights undoubtingly looks forward to! Weather permitting.
Thursday, 26 April 2012
My Edinburgh
My Edinburgh experience was monumental. You'll better understand that pun after seeing my photos. I'm not big on monuments but Edinburgh sure is and I was okay with that because although a tad excessive, it's part of its charm.
I left my place at dawn on Monday morning only to be informed my 10:30am bus was full so I had 4 hours to kill in Belfast. I chatted with an interesting hippie chick I met on the bus who is over from the states writing a book on wild mushrooms. A refreshing free-spirit to say the least! After departing I hopped on the Hop Off bus and toured Belfast in an attempt to give it do respect I lacked last visit. Gladly there are some bits to Belfast with heart that I heart, like the Peace Wall and this other activist wall I'll call the PSA wall and obviously the Titanic sight.
Segway to my maiden voyage to Scotland and I couldn't help but get a bit of a sinking feeling in my gut. I won't go too much into detail about the ferry itself as I could fill a page but I will say: comfy lounge seats and tables, wii, big screens, theatre, virtual fish pond that rippled when you stepped on it and ipads everywhere for use! Oh, and a bar. I Thoroughly enjoyed my plastic pint of stella at the bow of the boat. Very Kate Winslet I know.
My boat docked in Cairnryan, very South West. It was a beautiful day and the bus took the coastal route to Glasgow then over to Edinburgh. Glasgow has hints of Vancouver's layout to me. I swear we were driving down Pender.
Edinburgh. What a great city! I should know, I walked almost all of it. If Edinburgh were a video game I would be pac man and the streets and hilltops would be damn near cleared with little over-lapping. Some of the prettiest spots I found while finding my way, except when I got lost in Botanical Garden, that place is lost on me.
I arrived in Edinburgh at half nine on Monday night. After checking into my hostel (Castle Rock Hostel) just below the castle and right off the Royal Mile street in Old Town Edinburgh I climbed down the steps to the back and grabbed a fish and chip which I enjoyed on the benches outside while taking in all the intoxicated and eclectic passers-by. Edinburgh didn't seem to be a buzzing city but to be fair it was a week night and there's lots of construction going on.
Tuesday morning I was up and out of my hostel to take on The Royal Mile by 8am. I walked by many attractions; Giles Church, The Queens Palace, her church, parliament buildings (which I found quite odd and modern - not in a good way). Lots of tourist traps peppered throughout and I'm off to climb Calton Hill. Beautiful views of the city and a hodgepodge of monuments. In-between showers the sun appeared just in time for me to take photos. Don't let the blue sky pictures fool you!
After lunch I make my way over to New Town area and start finding my way to those unappreciated Botanical Gardens. After finding my way out I'm off to the Museum of Modern Art (which by the way most of the locals didn't even know where that was - or that they had one!) I got lost a lot and unfortunately ran out of time to see Our Dynamic Earth but I did see Edinburgh's MOMA and I'm in heaven! On the way I cross Dean Gardens - water of leith walkway and it's beautiful! I'll go into MOMA in more detail at the end as some people will not share my appreciation I'm sure.
Half seven I meet my cousin from Glasgow, Louise, for a meal. Unfortunately we pick a terrible place and do not stay for dessert. Off to royal mile with all the intentions of finding a cafe for tea - no go. Old mans pub it is! I sample a local dark ale - delish! And a crisp scottish lager, not as good. Brands I forget. We part, I sleep.
Up and out by 8am again I'm in search of Arthur's Seat as instructed by my father. What wasn't mentioned is that there's no actual seat so 45 minutes of speed hiking, two direction attempts and running into some locals I come to that relieving conclusion. Back down I go I have a bus to catch but not before stopping for tea in the least touristy place on the Royal Mile Clarinda's Tea Room. I enjoyed a warming pot'a and cinnamon toast in the antique looking room out at the street. I'd go back there! On my way home I find the last two attractions on my list; the Storytelling Cafe and John Knox house. Perfect! I'm racing to the Edinburgh bus station and back I go.
My UK stay-cation is finished at the legendary Crown Bar in downtown Belfast for a pint of the dark stuff.
Edinburgh's Museum of Modern Art:
Let me start by saying. What I love about modern art is looking at it and drawing your own conclusions and then reading about what the artist was trying to portray and looking at it again. It's conceptual and I like that.
One of the first pieces I loved where these 5-6 white canvases where there were impressions of peoples feet just past the toes. Miroslaw Balka "Entering Paradise" invited 12 homeless people to leave thier traces on an etching plate.
There was this series of six which the artist posted impressions of his body and orifices on black and white canvases. His anus and other unmentionables would be with a black background and fingerprints on white. Take what you want from it but he was trying to share a communality by using himself.
There was this Sculpture exhibit with a 20 ft new born baby and these pictures of people pinned up against the wall by wooden planks. Interesting.
One series was all about construction. Flat pictures on mirrors so you could see yourself it it. The picture was flat and you were the depth etc...
One room was full of vertical stripes of primary colours with the same colours waved throughout the middle horizontally around it. It was an american artist called Sol Lewitt who said, "The idea becomes the machine that makes the art." (Oprah voice) LOVE THAAAAT!
I left my place at dawn on Monday morning only to be informed my 10:30am bus was full so I had 4 hours to kill in Belfast. I chatted with an interesting hippie chick I met on the bus who is over from the states writing a book on wild mushrooms. A refreshing free-spirit to say the least! After departing I hopped on the Hop Off bus and toured Belfast in an attempt to give it do respect I lacked last visit. Gladly there are some bits to Belfast with heart that I heart, like the Peace Wall and this other activist wall I'll call the PSA wall and obviously the Titanic sight.
Segway to my maiden voyage to Scotland and I couldn't help but get a bit of a sinking feeling in my gut. I won't go too much into detail about the ferry itself as I could fill a page but I will say: comfy lounge seats and tables, wii, big screens, theatre, virtual fish pond that rippled when you stepped on it and ipads everywhere for use! Oh, and a bar. I Thoroughly enjoyed my plastic pint of stella at the bow of the boat. Very Kate Winslet I know.
My boat docked in Cairnryan, very South West. It was a beautiful day and the bus took the coastal route to Glasgow then over to Edinburgh. Glasgow has hints of Vancouver's layout to me. I swear we were driving down Pender.
Edinburgh. What a great city! I should know, I walked almost all of it. If Edinburgh were a video game I would be pac man and the streets and hilltops would be damn near cleared with little over-lapping. Some of the prettiest spots I found while finding my way, except when I got lost in Botanical Garden, that place is lost on me.
I arrived in Edinburgh at half nine on Monday night. After checking into my hostel (Castle Rock Hostel) just below the castle and right off the Royal Mile street in Old Town Edinburgh I climbed down the steps to the back and grabbed a fish and chip which I enjoyed on the benches outside while taking in all the intoxicated and eclectic passers-by. Edinburgh didn't seem to be a buzzing city but to be fair it was a week night and there's lots of construction going on.
Tuesday morning I was up and out of my hostel to take on The Royal Mile by 8am. I walked by many attractions; Giles Church, The Queens Palace, her church, parliament buildings (which I found quite odd and modern - not in a good way). Lots of tourist traps peppered throughout and I'm off to climb Calton Hill. Beautiful views of the city and a hodgepodge of monuments. In-between showers the sun appeared just in time for me to take photos. Don't let the blue sky pictures fool you!
After lunch I make my way over to New Town area and start finding my way to those unappreciated Botanical Gardens. After finding my way out I'm off to the Museum of Modern Art (which by the way most of the locals didn't even know where that was - or that they had one!) I got lost a lot and unfortunately ran out of time to see Our Dynamic Earth but I did see Edinburgh's MOMA and I'm in heaven! On the way I cross Dean Gardens - water of leith walkway and it's beautiful! I'll go into MOMA in more detail at the end as some people will not share my appreciation I'm sure.
Half seven I meet my cousin from Glasgow, Louise, for a meal. Unfortunately we pick a terrible place and do not stay for dessert. Off to royal mile with all the intentions of finding a cafe for tea - no go. Old mans pub it is! I sample a local dark ale - delish! And a crisp scottish lager, not as good. Brands I forget. We part, I sleep.
Up and out by 8am again I'm in search of Arthur's Seat as instructed by my father. What wasn't mentioned is that there's no actual seat so 45 minutes of speed hiking, two direction attempts and running into some locals I come to that relieving conclusion. Back down I go I have a bus to catch but not before stopping for tea in the least touristy place on the Royal Mile Clarinda's Tea Room. I enjoyed a warming pot'a and cinnamon toast in the antique looking room out at the street. I'd go back there! On my way home I find the last two attractions on my list; the Storytelling Cafe and John Knox house. Perfect! I'm racing to the Edinburgh bus station and back I go.
My UK stay-cation is finished at the legendary Crown Bar in downtown Belfast for a pint of the dark stuff.
Edinburgh's Museum of Modern Art:
Let me start by saying. What I love about modern art is looking at it and drawing your own conclusions and then reading about what the artist was trying to portray and looking at it again. It's conceptual and I like that.
One of the first pieces I loved where these 5-6 white canvases where there were impressions of peoples feet just past the toes. Miroslaw Balka "Entering Paradise" invited 12 homeless people to leave thier traces on an etching plate.
There was this series of six which the artist posted impressions of his body and orifices on black and white canvases. His anus and other unmentionables would be with a black background and fingerprints on white. Take what you want from it but he was trying to share a communality by using himself.
There was this Sculpture exhibit with a 20 ft new born baby and these pictures of people pinned up against the wall by wooden planks. Interesting.
One series was all about construction. Flat pictures on mirrors so you could see yourself it it. The picture was flat and you were the depth etc...
One room was full of vertical stripes of primary colours with the same colours waved throughout the middle horizontally around it. It was an american artist called Sol Lewitt who said, "The idea becomes the machine that makes the art." (Oprah voice) LOVE THAAAAT!
Monday, 16 April 2012
Good Friday
t's been a while since I've blogged. Truth be told, lack of financial funds have taken some of the 'fun' out of My Grand Travels. Thanks to the Canadian Government (oh but, once a year) times are changin'!
I never aspire to materialistic wealth (despite what some may think of me) but money can bring about so many other riches in the form of trips and experiences. Come June I'll be going to Pisa and Florence, Italy. (Happy birthday Hirmer!) Although I bought the Top 10 Rome book friends and personal research has changed my mind.
Looking at the map of Italy there's so many other places I would love to see and spend time in. Places that sappy novels turned movies and trashy US TV shows bring to light. I think the most important misfortune is four days in Italy couldn't possibly be enough to enjoy all the delicious food! So far I'm going solo if anyone wants to join or meet me there! I bet florence is beautiful in June!
Obviously my broke-ass spirits are lifted! And I just finished reading my fourth Cecelia Ahern book, "The Gift." Fuck she's profound and insightful for a fictional chick-lit author, (something she'll surely want someday written on her book cover as a review). I really must get cracking on my Eckhart Tolle book I started before Amsterdam or it'll succumb to the same fait his other two novels have with me.
That's my little travel update. I do plan on seeing Scotland this month and more of Northern Ireland and the Aran Islands have just popped up on my radar! (Sometimes I wish I drove as it'd be so much easier then a forever-taking bus.
(This may not get posted as my publisher is on holidays until after Easter.) Which remind me, happy easter! This may be my first once ever without being around family and lots of food so my soon-to-be-maid-of-honour body is thankful.
I never aspire to materialistic wealth (despite what some may think of me) but money can bring about so many other riches in the form of trips and experiences. Come June I'll be going to Pisa and Florence, Italy. (Happy birthday Hirmer!) Although I bought the Top 10 Rome book friends and personal research has changed my mind.
Looking at the map of Italy there's so many other places I would love to see and spend time in. Places that sappy novels turned movies and trashy US TV shows bring to light. I think the most important misfortune is four days in Italy couldn't possibly be enough to enjoy all the delicious food! So far I'm going solo if anyone wants to join or meet me there! I bet florence is beautiful in June!
Obviously my broke-ass spirits are lifted! And I just finished reading my fourth Cecelia Ahern book, "The Gift." Fuck she's profound and insightful for a fictional chick-lit author, (something she'll surely want someday written on her book cover as a review). I really must get cracking on my Eckhart Tolle book I started before Amsterdam or it'll succumb to the same fait his other two novels have with me.
That's my little travel update. I do plan on seeing Scotland this month and more of Northern Ireland and the Aran Islands have just popped up on my radar! (Sometimes I wish I drove as it'd be so much easier then a forever-taking bus.
(This may not get posted as my publisher is on holidays until after Easter.) Which remind me, happy easter! This may be my first once ever without being around family and lots of food so my soon-to-be-maid-of-honour body is thankful.
Irish Easter
The morning sun and I see eye-to-eye, and I dont' agree with it. Instead
of writing my post overlooking the beach I'm sitting on my green comfy
couch watching terrible music videos.
Unlike Canada's four-day easter holiday in Ireland it's treated like Christmas with two weeks off for school kids. With 'ques' outside my work doors before they even open I have a taste of the busy summer to come. Mental.
Even though I missed my traditional/Ukrainian fusion Easter dinner with my extended family and friends I had a lovely afternoon easter dinner at my family's holiday caravan up the road. Definitely missed the cabbage rolls though. The wine helped me forget though ;) Getting to know and becoming close with all my Irish family members has truly been icing.
Barry's Amusements (theme park) behind my building is up and running. I hear, on repeat, the butchered song, "we like to move-it move-it. WE. LIKE. TO. MOOOVE IT!" and what I can only assume is a two-ton baby laughing from my back patio (fire escape).
Last week my Fermanagh family came up with some friends to celebrate my moms cousins 50th. It was the type of evening you would see americanized in a film about Ireland I'm sure. (They played that song Galway Girl from PS, I Love You twice, and honestly most pubs I've gone to in this twon play it!) Just for being Canadian the two-man band invited me up to play the banjo in front of a crowded pub in Port Stewart. I think I'll always be proud of myself for being so awesome for that. No lie, the band must have been proud too as I later went up for an encore performance. I now think I could possibly go semi-professional at banjo playing. It was some good craic that night until venturing into the attached night club only to find that's where all the under 19 in the world were conjured. I tried to dance it off but couldn't help open-mouth staring at someone I probably resembled 10 years ago and had to leave.
On an unrelated note I've decided to take a couple weeks off the drink, which I've never had to consciously do but I think my physical body will benefit. After work yesterday sitting with people really enjoying their drink I thought I'd crack, but going strong! That just shows you how easy it is to drink in Ireland. It's like going out for coffee. My parents are proudly reading this I'm sure (or worried).
Unlike Canada's four-day easter holiday in Ireland it's treated like Christmas with two weeks off for school kids. With 'ques' outside my work doors before they even open I have a taste of the busy summer to come. Mental.
Even though I missed my traditional/Ukrainian fusion Easter dinner with my extended family and friends I had a lovely afternoon easter dinner at my family's holiday caravan up the road. Definitely missed the cabbage rolls though. The wine helped me forget though ;) Getting to know and becoming close with all my Irish family members has truly been icing.
Barry's Amusements (theme park) behind my building is up and running. I hear, on repeat, the butchered song, "we like to move-it move-it. WE. LIKE. TO. MOOOVE IT!" and what I can only assume is a two-ton baby laughing from my back patio (fire escape).
Last week my Fermanagh family came up with some friends to celebrate my moms cousins 50th. It was the type of evening you would see americanized in a film about Ireland I'm sure. (They played that song Galway Girl from PS, I Love You twice, and honestly most pubs I've gone to in this twon play it!) Just for being Canadian the two-man band invited me up to play the banjo in front of a crowded pub in Port Stewart. I think I'll always be proud of myself for being so awesome for that. No lie, the band must have been proud too as I later went up for an encore performance. I now think I could possibly go semi-professional at banjo playing. It was some good craic that night until venturing into the attached night club only to find that's where all the under 19 in the world were conjured. I tried to dance it off but couldn't help open-mouth staring at someone I probably resembled 10 years ago and had to leave.
On an unrelated note I've decided to take a couple weeks off the drink, which I've never had to consciously do but I think my physical body will benefit. After work yesterday sitting with people really enjoying their drink I thought I'd crack, but going strong! That just shows you how easy it is to drink in Ireland. It's like going out for coffee. My parents are proudly reading this I'm sure (or worried).
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Being present
It's 7am here on the Farm in Ardboe. Birds are chirping and the sun is warming my back through the open blinds. Yesterday I took a quick road trip to my familys' because even when you're away you have to get away from it all sometimes! I forgot how cathartic a bus trip can be... all that thinking while looking out at moving grass and sheep.
Yesterday I got the news that my brother got engaged. (This was after the bus trip - more thinking!) Not unexpected but great news! A long relationship but short engagement it looks like. It's a good motivator for me to hurry up with my trips and hurry up with any more weight loss I hope to obtain! Wine's a fruit right? Ugh. At least I started running again. Running on sand is a welcomed change with a sore neck from twisting it left staring at the rolling waves, sometimes jolting right if my judgement on how far they're going to roll in is off.
I still wake up and go to sleep feeling lucky that it sounds as if the waves are crashing into my apartment building. Those damn seagulls remind me now and then that their conversation is unwelcome through my window at ungodly hours.
Once I see my upcoming work-week there may be a last minute trip to Edinburough, the place I thought I'd live in the UK. Hopefully I don't fall in love with it.
Oh and for those of you wondering, my St Patricks day was quite shit. But I always find that most days that you HAVE to do something fun turn out that way.
Yesterday I got the news that my brother got engaged. (This was after the bus trip - more thinking!) Not unexpected but great news! A long relationship but short engagement it looks like. It's a good motivator for me to hurry up with my trips and hurry up with any more weight loss I hope to obtain! Wine's a fruit right? Ugh. At least I started running again. Running on sand is a welcomed change with a sore neck from twisting it left staring at the rolling waves, sometimes jolting right if my judgement on how far they're going to roll in is off.
I still wake up and go to sleep feeling lucky that it sounds as if the waves are crashing into my apartment building. Those damn seagulls remind me now and then that their conversation is unwelcome through my window at ungodly hours.
Once I see my upcoming work-week there may be a last minute trip to Edinburough, the place I thought I'd live in the UK. Hopefully I don't fall in love with it.
Oh and for those of you wondering, my St Patricks day was quite shit. But I always find that most days that you HAVE to do something fun turn out that way.
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Dank u Amsterdam
've been dreading writing this a bit as I know it'll be a long-winded post and draining. What a 'wee lazy bastard' eh?
My second day in Amsterdam pretty much consisted of getting lost, finding a floating flower market and a delicious dinner in an Amsterdam Irish pub on the canal with a pint of Heineken. Turns out I don't much care for that beer so 'happy days' I skipped the tour.
My last two days were my favourite and although no new friends to speak of I had a brief encounter with a fellow Vancouver girl trying to find her way around. Good luck!
(And this is where I have to stop for air.)
Although the tales of the Anne Frank Huis 'que' were a bit off-putting this was my main mission in Amsterdam. I arrived early enough and the line up moved quickly. It feels that writing about such an experience won't live up to such a notable place that housed ordinary people at that time. I may fail in my efforts to convey the emotion I felt and how much it meant and pained me to stand where they once tip-toed and to read where they once whispered. To see the pictures of the Jews being lined up on the street where I stood to a horrible fate was chilling. I wanted so much in that moment to go back and change history. So needless and horrifying.
It was also heart-warming to see how they got on. As I said before I read the book almost twenty years ago now, time for a re-read, but to see the dedication and hope Anne had for her future was tragically uplifting. I can't help but wonder what she could have been. She probably would have been one of those great people who changed the world for the better. But I suppose she still is.
It's probably best you can't take 'fotos' because you have to feel the steepness of the ladder disguised as stairs to the attic to appreciate where they lived and 'fotos' would only cheapen their legacy.
On a lighter note! That night I bought a ticket to the 4D Ice bar and felt like a complete ass! Normally I would never be enticed to par-take in something so gimmicky but there weren't many attractions open at night. Turns out it was a small 4D theatre, you guessed it, made of ice and a temp of -10. Awesome dude, right? Okay, amusing at best. Two drinks were given out. One at the start of the film and one after where people danced to "Ice Ice Baby" and these wild guys in eskimo attire snapped pictures. Needless to say I slammed my free beer and got the fuck outta there!
My hostel - The Van Gogh Hotel was great. I met some interesting bunkmates from Holland, Germany and Brazil. It's interesting comparing travel stories now that I have some!
Obviously staying at that hostel I had to visit the museum. Not being a big fan of old art or having much understanding of it's importance I wasn't super keen on this attraction - until I went inside! I adore Van Gogh. His personal story was so tragic. His art was his strength and his struggle. I am in no way comparing myself to Van Gogh, believe you-me, but I could appreciate how he wanted his work to come from an authentic place, how he wanted it to come from within and be true. But also how he tried to adapt his work upon the suggestions from others, for lack of better phrasing, to become more commercially appealing. I understood where his art came from (with help of descriptions)and appreciated his emphasis on certain pieces and proportions to better convey his intentions. (Like, the painting with the lady working in the field with dis-proportionate big hands.) I loved his fascination with the peaceful countryside , hard working people, and even his love of Japanese influence. I must seem like a complete sucker for a tragic story but it was honest. And like Anne Frank, he passed away before being recognized for his talent.
I told you I was dreading all that I had to write! Thanks for staying with me.
So although I couldn't find the cafe with the view, or the building with the hidden Catholic Church on the third floor, and I regrett buying the canal boat tour tickets, I feel like I experienced Amsterdam how I wanted. No, I did not smoke ot eat any weed to which my only regret about that is your regret.
My advice to future visitors, give yourself an extra day to get lost, use the canals as your grid, ask for directions often as I'm not entirely sure it's locals intentions to get you lost, I'm not sure it's not. And respect the people on bikes, even at first if it's hard to differentiate the difference between a sidewalk and a bike-lane at first.
And, visit the locals Market North of the Heineken experience. So much food and clothes and cheap! If I hadn't adopted this new need vs. want-need sensibility I'd be shopping!
I hope you enjoyed my trip to Amsterdam :) Below are just some quotes I took along the way...
"He loathed conventional language that did not derive from nature."
(I do) "what I am not yet able to, in order to learn how to do it." - VG
"See bleak things bleakly." - VG
"I exaggerate, I sometimes change a motif, but in the end I don't invent the whole painting. Instead I find it ready made in nature, though I still have to extract it." - VG
"I don't think anyone really knows their children." Anne Franks Father giving an interview about publishing her diary.
My second day in Amsterdam pretty much consisted of getting lost, finding a floating flower market and a delicious dinner in an Amsterdam Irish pub on the canal with a pint of Heineken. Turns out I don't much care for that beer so 'happy days' I skipped the tour.
My last two days were my favourite and although no new friends to speak of I had a brief encounter with a fellow Vancouver girl trying to find her way around. Good luck!
(And this is where I have to stop for air.)
Although the tales of the Anne Frank Huis 'que' were a bit off-putting this was my main mission in Amsterdam. I arrived early enough and the line up moved quickly. It feels that writing about such an experience won't live up to such a notable place that housed ordinary people at that time. I may fail in my efforts to convey the emotion I felt and how much it meant and pained me to stand where they once tip-toed and to read where they once whispered. To see the pictures of the Jews being lined up on the street where I stood to a horrible fate was chilling. I wanted so much in that moment to go back and change history. So needless and horrifying.
It was also heart-warming to see how they got on. As I said before I read the book almost twenty years ago now, time for a re-read, but to see the dedication and hope Anne had for her future was tragically uplifting. I can't help but wonder what she could have been. She probably would have been one of those great people who changed the world for the better. But I suppose she still is.
It's probably best you can't take 'fotos' because you have to feel the steepness of the ladder disguised as stairs to the attic to appreciate where they lived and 'fotos' would only cheapen their legacy.
On a lighter note! That night I bought a ticket to the 4D Ice bar and felt like a complete ass! Normally I would never be enticed to par-take in something so gimmicky but there weren't many attractions open at night. Turns out it was a small 4D theatre, you guessed it, made of ice and a temp of -10. Awesome dude, right? Okay, amusing at best. Two drinks were given out. One at the start of the film and one after where people danced to "Ice Ice Baby" and these wild guys in eskimo attire snapped pictures. Needless to say I slammed my free beer and got the fuck outta there!
My hostel - The Van Gogh Hotel was great. I met some interesting bunkmates from Holland, Germany and Brazil. It's interesting comparing travel stories now that I have some!
Obviously staying at that hostel I had to visit the museum. Not being a big fan of old art or having much understanding of it's importance I wasn't super keen on this attraction - until I went inside! I adore Van Gogh. His personal story was so tragic. His art was his strength and his struggle. I am in no way comparing myself to Van Gogh, believe you-me, but I could appreciate how he wanted his work to come from an authentic place, how he wanted it to come from within and be true. But also how he tried to adapt his work upon the suggestions from others, for lack of better phrasing, to become more commercially appealing. I understood where his art came from (with help of descriptions)and appreciated his emphasis on certain pieces and proportions to better convey his intentions. (Like, the painting with the lady working in the field with dis-proportionate big hands.) I loved his fascination with the peaceful countryside , hard working people, and even his love of Japanese influence. I must seem like a complete sucker for a tragic story but it was honest. And like Anne Frank, he passed away before being recognized for his talent.
I told you I was dreading all that I had to write! Thanks for staying with me.
So although I couldn't find the cafe with the view, or the building with the hidden Catholic Church on the third floor, and I regrett buying the canal boat tour tickets, I feel like I experienced Amsterdam how I wanted. No, I did not smoke ot eat any weed to which my only regret about that is your regret.
My advice to future visitors, give yourself an extra day to get lost, use the canals as your grid, ask for directions often as I'm not entirely sure it's locals intentions to get you lost, I'm not sure it's not. And respect the people on bikes, even at first if it's hard to differentiate the difference between a sidewalk and a bike-lane at first.
And, visit the locals Market North of the Heineken experience. So much food and clothes and cheap! If I hadn't adopted this new need vs. want-need sensibility I'd be shopping!
I hope you enjoyed my trip to Amsterdam :) Below are just some quotes I took along the way...
"He loathed conventional language that did not derive from nature."
(I do) "what I am not yet able to, in order to learn how to do it." - VG
"See bleak things bleakly." - VG
"I exaggerate, I sometimes change a motif, but in the end I don't invent the whole painting. Instead I find it ready made in nature, though I still have to extract it." - VG
"I don't think anyone really knows their children." Anne Franks Father giving an interview about publishing her diary.
Monday, 27 February 2012
Here I am in Amsterdam safe and stoned. Sound! I mean, safe and sound. Totally haven´t made it to a cafe yet. Today was a very hurtful day on my feet. I´ve travelled many miles in these addidas today, most of which was a pacing motion for getting lost so much. I don´t know how people do it high, Amsterdam is a complicated city to get around, and please don´t tell me the street name as I cannot retain Dutch yet. Thanks though, friendly people!
Thankfully today on the train fom the airport to downtown I made a friend for the day. On and 8 hour layover from New York to his Home in Amsterdam Tsvki ..close enough I hope, accompanied me around town. Very interesting as I never met anyone from Israel. On our travels we made friends with this trio of two Canadian gents and a London bloke. Where else am I going to go with four strange early twenty something boys. Red Light District. It a different and slightly disappointing experience as I wouldn´t call most of the women attractive and they all looked quite angry in the window actually, understandably the one banging and yelling at my Israel friend taking photos BIG NO NO! And please excuse the lack of punctuation the keyboard isn´t doing what it says so i´m limiting my stylistic additions. Anyways, I could bring myself to stare at the angry window ladies too much, maybe I would be more bold if it was night time but the unadmiting feminist in me felt quite discuss with hem actually. I washed my hands before eating lunch with my day friends.
Tomorrow is my bus-boat tour which I´m looking forward to. But with only an hour on each I´m pondering what I will fill my days with besides the Anne Frank Huis. A girl can only go to H and M so many times, I don´t care how many there are in this city! What up with that Amsterdam. Two would be more than sufficient.
Thankfully today on the train fom the airport to downtown I made a friend for the day. On and 8 hour layover from New York to his Home in Amsterdam Tsvki ..close enough I hope, accompanied me around town. Very interesting as I never met anyone from Israel. On our travels we made friends with this trio of two Canadian gents and a London bloke. Where else am I going to go with four strange early twenty something boys. Red Light District. It a different and slightly disappointing experience as I wouldn´t call most of the women attractive and they all looked quite angry in the window actually, understandably the one banging and yelling at my Israel friend taking photos BIG NO NO! And please excuse the lack of punctuation the keyboard isn´t doing what it says so i´m limiting my stylistic additions. Anyways, I could bring myself to stare at the angry window ladies too much, maybe I would be more bold if it was night time but the unadmiting feminist in me felt quite discuss with hem actually. I washed my hands before eating lunch with my day friends.
Tomorrow is my bus-boat tour which I´m looking forward to. But with only an hour on each I´m pondering what I will fill my days with besides the Anne Frank Huis. A girl can only go to H and M so many times, I don´t care how many there are in this city! What up with that Amsterdam. Two would be more than sufficient.
Sunday, 26 February 2012
Belfast Intl.
Up up and away! Just a quick update as I await my flight to Amsterdam! How exciting? Normally I don't really get excited for trips believe it or not... hopefully I don't make a habit of it.
xoxo
xoxo
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Here I sit on my Pedestal
Here I sit (when I roughed the blog) writing this update on my pedestal with my oversized morning mug of tea while watching all the rainy-day Portrush dog-walkers. Actually, I believe it's more of an ikea bar stool I'm sitting on, but serves the same purpose.
There's a part of Ireland that eats away at my soul and every day a piece of me dies a little. One container at a time. People here do not recycle anything! Well, cardboard if it suits them. I'm throwing away milk jugs, plastic packaging and I feel like all the churches on my doorstep couldn't save me from the dark fires of hell for deliberately filling up the planet with packaging. Over-dramatic much? If you grew up with Katrina Dwulit as your sister, you'd feel guilty for not recycling a toilet paper roll, too! I have an abundance of wine bottles and beer cans I can't bring myself to toss in the trash, I foresee a small living space come summer.
To make up for that earthly injustice the Irish can't be bothered by, they pour a hell-of-a glass of wine. My eyes light up every time I go to the bar to deliver a glass and my inner-voice screams, "you lucky bastards!" Seriously folks, it's a generous 9oz at least. Rule of thumb: pour whatever you would pour yourself, (to the rim).
I must interject: as I write this I am distracted by a couple riding horses on the sandy beach outside my window. If that doesn't paint the prettiest fucking picture then I can't bring you any joy today.
And a side note: This blog has really sparked an overwhelming desire to try and write a novel, chick lit, of course. It's equally created an overwhelming fear of commitment to such a project. Hmmm... And what would I write so much about? Hmm....
There's a part of Ireland that eats away at my soul and every day a piece of me dies a little. One container at a time. People here do not recycle anything! Well, cardboard if it suits them. I'm throwing away milk jugs, plastic packaging and I feel like all the churches on my doorstep couldn't save me from the dark fires of hell for deliberately filling up the planet with packaging. Over-dramatic much? If you grew up with Katrina Dwulit as your sister, you'd feel guilty for not recycling a toilet paper roll, too! I have an abundance of wine bottles and beer cans I can't bring myself to toss in the trash, I foresee a small living space come summer.
To make up for that earthly injustice the Irish can't be bothered by, they pour a hell-of-a glass of wine. My eyes light up every time I go to the bar to deliver a glass and my inner-voice screams, "you lucky bastards!" Seriously folks, it's a generous 9oz at least. Rule of thumb: pour whatever you would pour yourself, (to the rim).
I must interject: as I write this I am distracted by a couple riding horses on the sandy beach outside my window. If that doesn't paint the prettiest fucking picture then I can't bring you any joy today.
And a side note: This blog has really sparked an overwhelming desire to try and write a novel, chick lit, of course. It's equally created an overwhelming fear of commitment to such a project. Hmmm... And what would I write so much about? Hmm....
Friday, 10 February 2012
The Big Smoke
Well, it's official. Come Febrauary 27th I'm off on my next adventure to Amsterdam for four days! (My 20-year-old stonner self would be so envious of my 27-year-old not going there to smoke weed self.)
The part I'm truly looking forward to the most is the Anne Frank Huis. Besides the Babysitters Club, Anne Frank was the first real novel I read prior to seeing the play and I just think it's always resonated with me. Ever since I was a kid I've always had a twisted optimism in spotting prostitutes on the streets. I don't know if it's because I was raised in a town that wasn't that colourful or if it's from the hollywoodization of 'Pretty Woman.' (Adding 'ization' to something makes it a word, right?) So I will undoubtingly see some of those. It just looks Dublin beautiful with an even more relaxed open mind than Canada. I look forward to all the creative music, (and the Heineken tour). It'll be nice to take some artsy photos as well.
"That's me!"
The part I'm truly looking forward to the most is the Anne Frank Huis. Besides the Babysitters Club, Anne Frank was the first real novel I read prior to seeing the play and I just think it's always resonated with me. Ever since I was a kid I've always had a twisted optimism in spotting prostitutes on the streets. I don't know if it's because I was raised in a town that wasn't that colourful or if it's from the hollywoodization of 'Pretty Woman.' (Adding 'ization' to something makes it a word, right?) So I will undoubtingly see some of those. It just looks Dublin beautiful with an even more relaxed open mind than Canada. I look forward to all the creative music, (and the Heineken tour). It'll be nice to take some artsy photos as well.
"That's me!"
Monday, 6 February 2012
Something about nothing
When I moved into my apartment the realtor man neglected to mention the evident noise pollution of a mocking mass of seagulls, daily swarming above my window to greet me good morning in their friendly fashion I imagine. Seagulls and I have very different opinions of friendly it seems. Their idea is annoying and I'd be upset but they're just fucking seagulls so that must mean the weather isn't so bad.
I just started reading "PS, I Love You." If I ever figure out how someone could possibly possess enough words and detailed story plots to write 500 pages several times over I think I have found an unknowing mentor in Cecila Ahern. I'm momentarily obsessed with her writing, starting backyards, of course with her newest, to middle, then her first book. It's interesting to see the progression that way. Normally I wouldn't read a book to which I've already seen the major motion picture. Normally I wouldn't cry either. The lady in the used book store in Portstewart where I bought the book for £2 informed me that it was so good even her husband read it. So fellas...
I read on this cheesy card the other week, (the kind I love), that the biggest distance between us is time. In my case it is actual distance although funilly enough I feel like I could be only living as far as Vancouver. I miss the unlimited phone calls, over-sized dinners with friends and family and low-key couch banter but that'll have to wait until I'm still unsure when.
And a quick travel update if you'll excuse my personal-growth exercise on my literary skills. Still loving my place, the town, my job. Definitely a learning curve and finding it once again hard to fully understand what people are saying, but a smile goes far. I don't care what Cat Stevens says. I've found the most beautiful running route, although I've only managed to walk it so far. Between work and the stairs to my apartment I don't really need the additional cardio, but it can't hurt. And I have managed to visit my local, (and not make an ass of myself I must triumphantly add - obviously not the same night some loved ones got a mid-afternoon phone call from me).
So hopefully you found that uneventful entry written artfully enough to be somewhat entertained about nothing. Worked for Seinfeld.
I just started reading "PS, I Love You." If I ever figure out how someone could possibly possess enough words and detailed story plots to write 500 pages several times over I think I have found an unknowing mentor in Cecila Ahern. I'm momentarily obsessed with her writing, starting backyards, of course with her newest, to middle, then her first book. It's interesting to see the progression that way. Normally I wouldn't read a book to which I've already seen the major motion picture. Normally I wouldn't cry either. The lady in the used book store in Portstewart where I bought the book for £2 informed me that it was so good even her husband read it. So fellas...
I read on this cheesy card the other week, (the kind I love), that the biggest distance between us is time. In my case it is actual distance although funilly enough I feel like I could be only living as far as Vancouver. I miss the unlimited phone calls, over-sized dinners with friends and family and low-key couch banter but that'll have to wait until I'm still unsure when.
And a quick travel update if you'll excuse my personal-growth exercise on my literary skills. Still loving my place, the town, my job. Definitely a learning curve and finding it once again hard to fully understand what people are saying, but a smile goes far. I don't care what Cat Stevens says. I've found the most beautiful running route, although I've only managed to walk it so far. Between work and the stairs to my apartment I don't really need the additional cardio, but it can't hurt. And I have managed to visit my local, (and not make an ass of myself I must triumphantly add - obviously not the same night some loved ones got a mid-afternoon phone call from me).
So hopefully you found that uneventful entry written artfully enough to be somewhat entertained about nothing. Worked for Seinfeld.
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Etc.
Well, (that's Irish for hello, or how's it going, I really don't know. Some sort of greeting). Today was great because I talked to my bff and parents back in Canada. It's easy to feel guilty when so far away, missing out on nephews, 'nieces' growing up and grandparents growing old but you just have to overlook it and hope that they understand that right now is a selfish time. Everyone needs to be selfish sometimes, most just feel too guilty to be it.
I really don't have much to update, I came back to my families in the country over an hours drive to Nowhere, Tyrone. (Don't take that seriously it just sounded good.) But anyone who lives here knows that's not far off with a few shops and a lot of grass. So, anyways, I took this time to write my own blog without depending on my mediator to post them, (and double posting the title... oh technology). It's late here and back 'home' in the early a.m. EEeeee! Love it. Start work Monday which isn't always the most comfortable but they are very welcoming and looking forward to being hilarious with them as I see a lot off humourous potential to be reached.
I wouldn't say this is a drunk post but it can't possibly be sober post at near 1 a.m. and a half empty white wine glass affront. "Cheers to the freakin' weekend, I'll drink to that yeah-e-ahhh" - Rhianna.
I really don't have much to update, I came back to my families in the country over an hours drive to Nowhere, Tyrone. (Don't take that seriously it just sounded good.) But anyone who lives here knows that's not far off with a few shops and a lot of grass. So, anyways, I took this time to write my own blog without depending on my mediator to post them, (and double posting the title... oh technology). It's late here and back 'home' in the early a.m. EEeeee! Love it. Start work Monday which isn't always the most comfortable but they are very welcoming and looking forward to being hilarious with them as I see a lot off humourous potential to be reached.
I wouldn't say this is a drunk post but it can't possibly be sober post at near 1 a.m. and a half empty white wine glass affront. "Cheers to the freakin' weekend, I'll drink to that yeah-e-ahhh" - Rhianna.
Thursday, 26 January 2012
A welcome mat of waves
This is how I was greeted by the staff and the scenery outside the restaurant window. It's like night and day, it really is and I look forward to starting on a regular basis come Monday. And, I'm am starting to get an idea of just how small the town I live in as I start meeting more people and frequenting the same places, I find it both intimidating and homey.
The other day I spent a girls day out window shopping my street, (one of the only streets here) full of shops, pubs, restaurants and hotels. Most were tourist traps but I found a couple gems that really lit me up. Across the road is a local Photographer named Peter Nash ( http://www.peternashphotography.co.uk/ ), I may become an annoying fan with his shop as he displays some beautiful, moving print work of scenery in and nearby Portrush. You'll die. It's great. The shop next door is up my alley as well, full of local and Uk work like pieces of a fence with inspirational typography on it. Genius. Really. I eat that shit up. And a local artist that designs cards. And tarot cards, all eco-friendly etc you get the picture I'm painting kind-of-place: zen.
On another note: Despite that orange silk ribbon from the Dublin MOMA exhibit, "I wish your wish", falling off my wrist some time ago I still am no closer to knowing what I want to be. But, I am realizing the things that bring me joy and make me feel energetic: photography, modern artwork, writing and food. And not in that order necessarily. So, I guess I could write a cookbook but how does one go about publishing one? And is it wrong to plagiarize other peoples recipes if you put your own twist on it? I've seen it done lots in advertising and that still sells. It's an idea anyways.
I am also researching a trip to Amsterdam that will hopefully take place within a months time. Yee ha! (How embarrasing?) I look forward to a couple of the main attractions there and no, I do not believe I will be par-taking in any freedom of smoke, FYI.
Thursday, 19 January 2012
At 27
My birthday was good despite having to work a split shift. At the end I just ate some homemade veggie pasta in my snuggle I got for my birthday and did laundry. Sound sad? I quite enjoyed myself on my big comfy pea green couch watching trashy UK tele. And thank you so much to everyone for wishing me a happy birthday I couldn't wait to check my facebook this morning and was surprised by how far down the page I had to scroll. That's nice.
Do you ever feel like you're walking around experiencing a reality that is so unreal it couldn't possibly be yours? No? Just me? Sometimes anyways.
Now 27 I feel like 'I have lived many lifes though I'm not old' - Nelly Furtado: Try. Some chapters are longer than others and some are merely paragraphs. I've just been thinking lately, now that I've had the chance to fully experience a different way of life, even though similar in a lot of ways different in other ways you wouldn't notice unless you lived it for some time. If that makes sence. It's just a shame we only get this one life to live when there's so much out there and how great would it be raised in different cultures then pick the one that brought out the best in you? An impossibility surely but just some food for thought.
I guess that's why people often say, "you're given this one life so you better make the most of it."
The Irish also have a saying, "What is for you will come to you."
Do you ever feel like you're walking around experiencing a reality that is so unreal it couldn't possibly be yours? No? Just me? Sometimes anyways.
Now 27 I feel like 'I have lived many lifes though I'm not old' - Nelly Furtado: Try. Some chapters are longer than others and some are merely paragraphs. I've just been thinking lately, now that I've had the chance to fully experience a different way of life, even though similar in a lot of ways different in other ways you wouldn't notice unless you lived it for some time. If that makes sence. It's just a shame we only get this one life to live when there's so much out there and how great would it be raised in different cultures then pick the one that brought out the best in you? An impossibility surely but just some food for thought.
I guess that's why people often say, "you're given this one life so you better make the most of it."
The Irish also have a saying, "What is for you will come to you."
Monday, 16 January 2012
My Home by the Ocean
It's a crisp clear day. Today was the first time I've actually had the privilege to take in the sights around my seasonal seaside town. Gorgeous. I was walking around near-stupid smiling the entire time. I just went for a little stroll around the block around the waters edge and regretted not wearing my glasses as the sights are as beautiful near as they are afar, (I just couldn't quite take in the far)! Today was my first time going to a butchers by myself and purchasing meat, as tonight I'm going to make my first decent meal in my apartment: Chicken vegetable stirfry with sweet and sour sauce as it's pretty much that flavour or sweet chilli in stores here! The butcher is only a 30 second walk from my doorstep and must say that I may eat meat more regularly as the butcher is quite cute. I also went to a little grocery store around the corner which I will be frequenting as the fridges over here are small. Tomorrow I will be touring the town more with my cousins girlfriend, Gemma. My one friend in town so far but I don't think others are far off as some of the people I work with seem cool. There's a bar in-between my work and apartment that has karoke on weekends, I will make no friends there I'm sure.
Hey Canadians, want to become instantly popular and loved? Come to Ireland. Even though the first question from customers is am I American once they find out I'm Canadian they're shaking my hand like I'm the president and ask me so many questions it's prety awesome. And they seem to tip pretty well too (although the staff shares the tips). Everyone asks what I'm doing here etc etc and I don't mind sharing the same story about that!
I love the restaurant outside my window on the waters edge. Last night I had a delicious vegetarian enchilada with my cousin. Hey Atlas, snap peas in an enchilada actually works! Tasty. Anyways, "that's me." I was walking around thinking in my head about all the things I was going to share and it was going to be a terrible blog entry of random thoughts but now I can't seem to think of anything! (Oh, and the voice in my head is starting to sound like an Irish person so I must fight that or I'll come back accented.) Oh! But welst (haha, that's not Irish just smart) on my walk I saw so many puppies! (Dogs.) I friggin love it because they're friendly dogs here as aposed to the scary country side mean dogs. This is a total dog-walking town and dog people are so friendly and I just so happen to LOVE dogs so it's great. People let me pet them. Ha! You can imagine my excitement. Cheerio.
Hey Canadians, want to become instantly popular and loved? Come to Ireland. Even though the first question from customers is am I American once they find out I'm Canadian they're shaking my hand like I'm the president and ask me so many questions it's prety awesome. And they seem to tip pretty well too (although the staff shares the tips). Everyone asks what I'm doing here etc etc and I don't mind sharing the same story about that!
I love the restaurant outside my window on the waters edge. Last night I had a delicious vegetarian enchilada with my cousin. Hey Atlas, snap peas in an enchilada actually works! Tasty. Anyways, "that's me." I was walking around thinking in my head about all the things I was going to share and it was going to be a terrible blog entry of random thoughts but now I can't seem to think of anything! (Oh, and the voice in my head is starting to sound like an Irish person so I must fight that or I'll come back accented.) Oh! But welst (haha, that's not Irish just smart) on my walk I saw so many puppies! (Dogs.) I friggin love it because they're friendly dogs here as aposed to the scary country side mean dogs. This is a total dog-walking town and dog people are so friendly and I just so happen to LOVE dogs so it's great. People let me pet them. Ha! You can imagine my excitement. Cheerio.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
1000+
Thanks for keeping reading and being a part of my Irish experience, (and giving me an excuse to write)!
10/10
Now I don't mean to sound like an asshole and I don't want to jinx it but I have found the most perfect little fourth floor apartment in Portrush. It's overlooking the beach and golf course. I kind of think I could write something amazing sitting at my unusually high breakfast table. There is a giant Church of Ireland right outside my window and a Protestant church to the left of my building so I guess I have some gods watching out for me. Or same god, not sure what their beliefs are there. My place is completely furnished, I'm talking two tallboys in the fridge furnished. Vacuum, utensils, furniture, six lighters in the drawer furnished. It's pretty cute because the entrance is on the third floor to which I open my door to two story stairs with a love seat, table and chair at the separating landing. Why I'd want to sit there staring at stairs going each way is beyond me but it's character I suppose. It's right downtown, a five minute walk from my work. I can not wait to go for runs along the water and there's endless shops right next-door (and pubs). I won't have a computer but I am two minutes from the public library. I've never lived in my own apartment (because I've always rented basement suites) and it's all pretty unbelievable to me right now that I can afford this little slice of heaven on earth. Work starts on Thursday and I went with family for lunch today so looking forward to getting the menu under my belt. It's no Atlas Cafe menu but it's nice to be a part of a place that cares about giving good service as it's the first time I've experienced it in Ireland (except for at that place I worked for two hours in Dungannon the other night, but I was working not eatting, so...) Next chapter.
Monday, 9 January 2012
Phase two
Ask and you shall receive.
In the case of finding employment in Portrush it's true anyways. As the status update on facebook explains I have found fulltime employment at the Ramada Hotel right along the gorgeous ocean (as are a lot of the hotels and restaurants there). The people seem nice and it sounds like a multi-cultural environment which I appreciate and find interesting. Maybe I'll meet some travel buddies. Tomorrow my cousin Madonna is taking me apartment shopping. It's really thanks to her being a Portrush pusher in the first place that I got a job there and get to live there. My family has a trailer (caravan) there too so it'll be nice to see everyone. Looking forward to loosing some holiday chub and exploring this foot-friendly seaside town. Did I mention that the Irish Golf Open will be held there this summer? Sounds familiar but i'll write it again and hopefully start drying out my wine-soaked brain a bit!
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
Rome wasn't built in a day.
The reason for that being the title is it was on the 'tele'. And it struck a cord. I had a crazy dream last night. It was about a high school teacher from my childhood school. One of the two big ones. She wasn't mine, but knew me well enough just the same. She told or asked, (dreams are always hard to recall), but the just is she stated that I'm afraid of achieving my dreams. The truth is that I haven't had a dream or any sort of real feeling of ambition since I pursued my advertising career in Vancouver several years ago. I hesitantly say that I now know that that type of writing (restricted and scrutinized) is not for me but when I think back I still get a tightness in my chest. I've never really found resolve. I think because when you have such a strong dream that it consumes you and you have the chance to touch it, it's hard to let that dream go. What does this tid-bit have to do with "My Grand Travels" you may be asking? It's the catalyst for my travels.
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
I heart Port Rush
http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/Europe/United_Kingdom/Northern_Ireland/Antrim/Portrush/ Copy and paste that link and you'll see some beautiful photos of where I was today looking for work, I must be fare, they do not do it justice. I guess it's the feeling you get when you see waves large enough you could surf on crashing into the shore line and just how much water surrounds this town and it's steep edges. I have a different love for this place then Dublin, it's more of serenity and breath-taking natural beauty you could go for peaceful runs in verses fast-pace speed walking. I would want to be there for the summer. Gawd!
Monday, 2 January 2012
A time for resolve.
My nephew would be happy to know I brought my party pants to Maguires Bridge in Fermanagh for New Years 2012! Okay, the pants were in the form of purple tights to compliment my asymmetrical leopard dress but you get the metaphor. New years was a great time and I spoke with a jolly gypsy, (just don't call them that to their face). For some odd reason there were a group of 'travelers' in my families local, I must say they were a well behaved group and when the load of their wife's came in to collect cash one said, "and mind your manners will you!" I'm sure they weren't so polite come midnight but they left and me and my younger cousins were off for a night of taxi rides and craic hunting. Three cabs and five pubs later we found our dancy spot. We were literally dancing on broken glass on one place, that stay was short lived. I partied in three different towns that night and no worries if you weren't done your drink before leaving as every place provided a to-go cup. Seriously? Yep. And you could drink in the cabs no worries. As if. Ireland you are a giant enabler.
I spent the weekend at the homestead out on the lake with a few of my cousins and it was so peaceful, a narrow long lane away from any other farm land. Quite enjoyable. I am happy with the amount of photos I took only wish I could give them my mac treatment but had I gone out fifteen minutes later you would have seen showers.
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