Picasso, Oxford and Cambridge

Pictures: 1) Trinity College, Cambridge, 2) bridge with punters on river in Cambridge, 3) me on bridge, 4) storm moving in on Cambrige, 5) St. John's College, Cambridge



On Wednesday I'd wanted to go to Hampstead Heath, but the weather was gray and rainy, so I stayed in until Shakespeare class. I have been getting more and more frustrated with our Shakespeare teacher - she rambles on and on about completely off topic subjects, and when she does address the play we are reading, it is stuff like: "What are the themes? Oh yes, death, life, love. Oh see the word bones? And that flower, that represents death. And oh! isn't that little dog sweet." I am not kidding. After coming out of Professor Gless' Shakespeare class last semester having learned so much, I am dreadfully disappointed with this woman and seriously haven't learned a thing (apart from how to write postcards while acting like I'm taking pointless notes).

Thursday morning we met our art teacher at the National Gallery where there was a Picasso exhibition. I really, really enjoyed the exhibition. I didn't use to care much for Picasso, but I realize now why he is considered a genius. His paintings are in so many different styles, from realistic still-life, to cubism, surrealism, and on and on. My favorite painting that I saw there was analytical cubism called "Seated Nude." It takes some looking at to realize that it is even a person, but once you see it, it is beautiful.

After the Picasso we went to the main part of the gallery and looked at some of the most famous paintings in their collection including “The Wilton Diptych” painted on wood in 1395, “The Ambassadors” by Hans Holbein the Younger, and "The Japanese Foot Bridge" by Monet. So beautiful! It is amazing to see paintings that you have seen again and again in books and know that this is the real, original thing.

On Friday I got up at 8 am and took the 10 am train into Oxford; however, the train was delayed and while it was supposed to arrive in Oxford at 11 am, it arrived at 11:40. I was supposed to be at Sylvia's between 11:30 and 12 because we were going to meet a friend of hers at 1 pm and needed to catch the bus from her house about 12:15. I couldn't find a taxi so I power walked the first mile or so, and then ran (with my book bag on my back) the last 3/4 of a mile to her house. I arrived, sweaty and panting, at 12:08 and had just enough time to drink some water before we headed out toward the bus stop.

As it turns out we needn't have left so early, but given that she does walk rather slow since her broken hip, she wanted to give us plenty of time. We were going to meet her friend Chris (probably in his 70s) at the Bodleian Library and he (being an official library tour guide) was going to give us a private tour. The libraries at Oxford and Cambridge are not open to the public, and usually tours cost money, so this was a real treat. Once we arrived at the library in the center of Oxford (pretty much where I'd started running from lol), we were 15 minutes early and thus went into a free exhibit nearby that featured hand-written symphonies and songs from as far back as the 1300s. It was so cool because each note had to be written in by hand and it was all so beautiful - it is amazing anyone could ever do such things!

At one o'clock we met Chris at the library entrance and we started in the Divinity Hall (which was used to film the infirmary scenes in Harry Potter). Built 1427–83, it is the oldest surviving purpose-built building for university use, specifically for lectures and discussions on theology. It is not used for that anymore, but it is still really beautiful. Next he took us into a connecting room that was used for meetings with the big wigs of the university. Today they still have meetings in there where all graduate alumni are invited to help solve university problems. It has been used in many films as the seat of a king and his advisers (since that is what it most looks like). Then we went to the actual library part above the Divinity Hall which was first built in the 1488 as Duke Humphry's library. However, all the books were taken away and destroyed in the 1500s for being "too Catholic." It was rebuilt in the late 1500s by Sir Thomas Bodley, however some of the same roof beams and other parts are from the original 1400s library.

After this Sylvia treated Chris and me to lunch in the restaurant of the church next to the library (also part of the school) and then Chris continued his tour. We got to go underground into the stacks where there are miles and miles of first edition books shelved. Like the British Library, the Bodleian is required to receive a copy of everything printed in the UK. They store some less requested books in salt mines in the country. Chris showed us a favorite shelf of his full of original childrens books from the very early 1900s. We also looked at some old newspapers and I read a shocking article called "How Women Should Behave Themselves." It was really cool to see the convayer belt moving books around and whatnot. I found out later that even students aren't allowed to go down into the stacks, so this was a big deal! From there he took us through an underground tunnel to the Radcliffe Camera Building which is part of the library, and it was so beautiful inside (sort of like Wilson Library at UNC).

After our tour, Sylvia and I went back to her place and chatted over her homemade lemon drizzle cake before I caught my train back to London. It was a wonderful day, though I'd forgotten my camera during the tour, so I don't have any pictures. :(

On Saturday I went to Cambridge. It was bitter cold, but the sun did make and appearance off and on and I got to visit several of the colleges (it is like Oxford in that there are many colleges that make up the University). I also got to watch people punting along the river (pushing boats with big sticks in the water). On my way back to the train station it started raining, so I sat in a Waterstones (bookstore) and read a travel book about Spain - I can't wait to go there! :)

When I got home from Cambridge last night I got a very sore throat and I definately have a cold now. However, I rested all day and should be feeling better tomorrow. I am going to "couch surf" tomorrow on the Isle of Wight off the southern shore of England. Couchsurfing is a thing you can sign up for online where you type in a place you want to go and see if anyone in that area has a couch or a guest room they will put you up on. It has loads of saftey measures and I would only ever stay with single females, but it should be a great experience to meet locals (all over the world) and get an authentic experience of the place. I'm so excited and can't wait to update my blog when I get home on Tuesday.

Brighton, Seaford, and the Seven Sisters

Pictures: 1) In Brighton, 2) Brighton pier from afar, 3) holding a shell on the beach, 4) the Royal Pavilion, 5) a pretty tree in the Royal Pavilion gardens, 6) view of Seaford Cliffs, 7) looking down from Seaford cliffs, 8) looking to the left from Seaford cliffs, 9) looking to the right from Seaford cliffs over the town, 10) the Seven Sisters Cliffs



Today I woke up at 8:20 to get ready and catch the 10 am train to Brighton. It is only about a 55 minute ride, which is nice, and from the train station in Brighton (which is up on a hill) you can see right down to the water. I thus started out down the hill at 11 am. I had a fleece on over my Harvard t-shirt, but with the bright sun shining down on me, I soon removed the fleece. When I reached the seaside, I ran across the familiar rocky shore down to where the waves crashed in a sonorous clacking of stone upon stone. The water didn't feel too cold, but it could have been that my hands were already a bit numb from the wind. I walked along the waters edge, picking up beautiful stones as the waves receded, and backing away when they crashed toward me again. The sun and sky were so lovely that I laid down on the stones for a while, soaking up the warmth. While they are uncomfortable to walk on (so many different sized stones under your shoes makes for quite a strain on one's ankles) they are perfectly suitable for napping.

After a few minutes I walked to the pier (one of Brighton's most famous attractions) which is filled with stands selling doughnuts, hot dogs, palm readings, etc. At the end of the massive pier there is a carnival with a roller coaster, thrill house, Ferris wheel, merry-go-round, and more. The music was playing as I walked through, and while many of the rides were lit up, nothing was open. It was rather eerie, like walking through a ghost town. I felt as though I were in some sort of strange land where all of the children suddenly disappeared, and left the music going and the lights on.

From there I walked to the gardens surrounding the Royal Pavilion. I went to the Pavilion last time I was in Brighton, so I didn't need to go inside again, but next door is a free art museum that I didn't get to see last time because I went on a Monday and it is closed on Mondays. I was quite excited that this time I'd get to see it, until I reached the door and read "closed for routine cleaning March 24-27." Someone is out to get me. However, I ate my packed sandwich and fruit on a little park bench, listed to a saxophone player whose music drifted across the meadow in the most heart-breaking and splendid tones, and watched two boys playing ball.

At one point, the boy nearest me missed the ball and it went flying behind him toward a group of people with a young son. As soon as the ball bounced near him you could see his eyes light up (he was probably 7), and he handed the ball to the older boy (about 13) with reverence. From thereon he hovered nearby until, luckily for him, the ball missed its mark again. Upon seeing this, the little boy ran for it, picked it up and hurled it all the way across the field to the initial thrower. Both older boys were clearly flabbergasted, as was I, not believing this kid's arm. After that they included him in their game of catch, and I found myself often smiling at the sight of them.

Finally I walked back toward the main street and to the station, catching the 1:10 train to Seaford (about 35 minutes away). Seaford was not a particularly pretty town, but I followed my nose to the water and the view of the white cliffs from the beach was utterly breathtaking. I had wanted to find this bike rental company so I could bike across the National Park that spans several miles between Seaford and Eastborn, but I wasn't really sure where the place was, and I am fairly certain I couldn't have biked up those hills anyway, thus I headed out on foot.

I climbed to the top of the the highest white cliff in Seaford, and gazed out at the unbelievable view. Hundreds of feet below, waves crashed onto a rocky shore, out at sea a sailboat was the only vessel to be seen, and the sun reflected across the water so brilliantly that the whole sea appeared to be made of diamonds. To my right was the town of Seaford, looking much more picturesque than when I was actually in it, and beyond that town was another cliff, jutting out into the sea with a lighthouse standing out on its farthest edge. To my left I could see the rolling hills atop the cliffs, and in the distance, standing out like new-fallen snow, were the Seven Sisters. Seven beautiful, chalky cliffs, so much more lovely than those at Dover, pristine and shining. No buildings detract from their splendor, and nothing graces their majestic peaks except the determined hiker or the rabbits and fat bumble bees that abound in the area. Behind me, acre upon acre of green rolling hill was dotted with plump white sheep and the vibrant grass was offset by the stunningly blue sky above. I found myself repeating "wow" under my breath, over and over.

I then decided I would hike across the Seven Sisters and take the train back to London from Eastborn. It seemed logical enough - no backtracking necessary. However, after an hour's hike, I realized my goal was perhaps a bit lofty. While I had gotten relatively close to the start of the Seven Sisters, I could not see Eastborn clearly. I thought I saw a town, far in the distance, but if that wasn't it, what would I do? And what if I couldn't make it there before dark, or what if it got too cold or the weather changed, or, most likely, what if my weak knees and ankles (already throbbing) just couldn't make it a further 5 miles (which was my estimate). Finally, I admitted defeat (being alone it wasn't worth the risk), but I plopped myself down on one of the cliff's ledges, watching the people on the beach at the base of the first Sister cliff, and ate some more fruit and some cookies. Knowing I wasn't going to go all the way made my journey from there on out much more leisurely. I don't really mind so much, since the view of the ocean from atop those cliffs would have been the same as the view from atop my cliffs, and in fact, my view of them would be infinitely better than their view of me.

As I sat there snacking, there was a bench up the hill a bit to my right, and one to my left, though I believe they could not see each other, I could see both of them. On my right an old man sat with a newspaper, reading and gazing out at the view alternately. While he looked content enough, I felt sad for him, sitting there all alone (though I wasn't sad for myself, so perhaps he would not have liked my pity for his solitude). On the bench to my left an elderly couple sat together, close as two turtledoves, whispering together and kissing as though they were teenagers. I couldn't help stealing glances over my shoulder at them and thinking how amazing their romance was after what was probably many years. After some time I looked back toward where the solitary man sat, and he was gone. I am probably the only person who ever knew he was there. Soon thereafter the couple picked up their walking sticks, and, hand-in-hand, headed the opposite direction. Something about this dichotomy struck a chord in me, though I can't exactly put it into words.

At long last, I tore myself away from my cliff side picnic area, and started my walk back to Seaford. I had been noticing on the walk earlier all the little round pellets on the ground, and upon seeing my first rabbit, I realized what it was. Luckily, most of the rabbit poop was not fresh and thus did not stick to shoes. There must have been thousands living in the area though. I saw five during my hike, and many bunny holes. They were quite large and fast as anything. I was only able to get a picture of one by sneaking up on it (not too close) and zooming in. Right after I took the photo it dove into a burrow.

I stopped several more times on my way back to Seaford, standing or sitting on the cliffs, smiling at the sun and braving the winds that had become very fierce and cold. My fleece and windbreaker were both donned at this point. When I finally reached the Seaford beach, I bought a scone and went and sat near the water on the smooth rocks. Sand is clearly a hot commodity around that area, because I didn't see any of it. lol

I debated on staying to watch the sunset, but as it was getting very cold (though the skies were still blue and the sun still shining), I decided to catch the 5:30 train back to London. I bet the sunset was really fabulous though.

Overall, it was a lovely, relaxing, calming, outstandingly beautiful day. Tomorrow morning I may go to Hampstead Heath which is a park that overlooks London a bit outside of town. We'll see how exhausted I am and how the weather holds up.

Tommy's Visit to London

Pictures: 1) me on the wall on the bank of the Thames, 2) Tommy and Me on the bank, 3) London Eye and the County building, 4) Big Ben by night, 5) Tommy and Lauren at pub for brunch, 6) on Millennium Bridge, 7) view from our seats at the game

On Thursday I went to a jewelry auction for my art class - it is truly incredible the amount of money these people pay for this stuff. From there we went to several small, private galleries, and stopped in some REALLY high fashion stores. Jeez those clothes are ugly - I really don't see why anyone would buy them, and no one actually wears them off of the runway, but to each his own I guess. After art some of us went to this little French patisserie called "illy" for lunch, and I had a great BLT and the best mint choc chip ice cream I think I've ever had.

Friday I caught up on my TV shows online until I met Tommy and Nate at the train station (where they had just arrived from Scotland, having taken the ferry over from Ireland). I figured out where their hotel was and guided them there via tube - they both said they never would have made it above ground again if it weren't for me. lol (It's really not that hard, you just have to read signs, and considering they'd gotten about 3 hours sleep, that may have been a challenge).

Their hotel was right near St. Paul's Cathedral, which was perfect because I'd done a little research about the best pub to take them for dinner, and I remembered a pub I'd gone to last time I was in London. It's called Ye Old Cheshire Cheese and is one of the oldest pubs in London (rebuilt in 1667 after the Great Fire). The pub was literally 3 blocks from their hotel, so after dropping their stuff, we walked there (as they were starving). The pub was way cooler than I'd remembered. It is an absolute maze of nooks and crannies, with 2 restaurants, and 2 or 3 bars that serve pub food. It is at least 4 stories high, with creaking steps, doorways you have to duck under, and no right angles in the place. It is just lovely! Even the tables and benches look as though they are from the 1600s.

We decided to have "pub food" as it was much cheaper. I got chicken and mushroom pie (like a chicken pot pie but with only chicken, mushrooms, and a type of gravy inside) and it came with beans similar to Lima beans and chips (fries) all for about 5 pounds. I was taking a chance getting that because I'm not really big on mushrooms, but Oh My Gosh was it good!! I ate it all in about 10 seconds. Tommy got a wonderful looking chicken salad and Nate got calamari and soup. Everyone was so happy with their meals and it was remarkably cheap and you don't tip at pubs so that was great. They were very happy with my selection of pub and we had a great time.

After that I took them on a walking tour of London by night. We walked along the North Bank of the Thames. It was a beautiful night and the London Eye, Big Ben, and all the buildings were lit up. We walked to Trafalgar Square and I stopped in the National Gallery right as it was closing to use the rest room, then we walked back to my flat so they could see that area of town. It was a LONG night of walking. lol

On Saturday Tommy and I had brunch at a pub close to his hotel (a full English breakfast which means eggs, sausage, ham, beans and toast). I only ate the eggs, toast, and some beans. The old bar tender asked me "did you eat all your food" and I sort of blushed and said "everything but the meat" and he said "do you not like our English bacon? (that's ham)" and I said, "well, I don't eat much meat even in America." I was so red at this point and thankfully we'd finished paying so we could leave. We then went to St. Paul's Cathedral to try to climb to the top, but it was 11 pounds for an adult and 8.50 for a student, which was a lot of money and the line was long and we didn't have much time, so we left. We then walked to the South Bank of the Thames and (very briskly) walked to Borough Market where we had scones. Then we power walked back in order to catch the train to Tottenham Spurs Stadium to go see a football (soccer) match.

It was a 23 minute train ride and the train was packed - everyone going to the stadium. When we arrived it was a crazy bustle as everyone gathered their stuff and got off the train, all walking in the same direction. Tommy and I had to pick up the tickets from a friend of Tommy's friend at the Irish Centre which was very close to the train station. When we got there I used the rest room and then we met the guy who bought Tommy a pint as we all chatted. We left for the stadium about 40 minutes before the game started, and when we were almost half way there, I realized I did not have my purse. It is a little Vera Bradly wrist purse that just fits my wallet and my oyster card (tube pass). I started to freak out, and we walked back to the Irish Centre very quickly, with me rushing into the bathroom. It was not there. Tommy checked at the bar, but nothing had been turned in. At this point I was sitting on the floor crying, and random guys were looking at me and saying "don't cry, don't cry" as they walked by.

Then, thinking about it, I realized that I didn't remember having it in the bathroom at all, but knew I had it on the train. We went to the train station and of course nothing had been turned in, but he called the last stop on the line to see if anything had been found. No. So we filed a report, and if it turns up they should be able to contact me. It was really sickening because not only did it have my only credit card, one of my debit cards, and my international student card (my only form of ID other than my passport) but I had about 76 pounds in there (having recently gone to get money from the ATM) and my oyster card had at least 10 pounds on it. Not to mention that I loved that leather wallet and the purse. I think perhaps that wallet is just bad luck, considering it is the one that was stolen last time I was in London (and found later in a trashcan and returned to me).

Anyway, I called mom and dad from my cell phone and asked them to cancel my cards, but since there was nothing else I could do, I told Tommy we should just go to the game.

We had 4th row seats and a great view! Even though I don't follow sports, it was really interesting and the match held my attention. The Spurs won (which Tommy was happy about) and we left a few minutes before it ended to take the train back. Thankfully I'd put our train tickets in my book bag and not my wrist purse. When we got to the main station in London we checked with the lost luggage people and made sure everything had been done, so now I have a million phone numbers I can call and check the status of my purse, but I have a bad feeling it is gone. Especially since that area of town wasn't great.

We went for dinner at Benito's Hat (the burrito place that my flatmates love so much) and it was really good. Tommy had to buy me everything (including a new tube pass) since I had no money, which was really sweet of him.

On Sunday we had lunch at this place called "make mine" and I had tuna fish on a bagel which was yummy. Then we went to the shopping district (Oxford Street) where Tommy had a great time in Sports Direct (the soccer jerseys and cleats etc are much cheaper here) and where he bought some souvenirs and he got me a Oxford University shirt for 5 pounds from a street vendor (much cheaper than the ones in Oxford).

We then went to a pub for dinner (I had lamb meatballs with tzaiki sauce and flatbread) and Tommy could watch a soccer game he wanted to catch the end of. I left after I ate to pack a bag for him to take back to the US with him, and met him at a different pub where we sat and talked and had garlic bread.

This morning I went with him on the tube to the airport to say goodbye, and have spent the rest of the day reading and watching some TV shows online. Tomorrow I think I will go to Brighton or a town near there. I'm excited. This weekend I think some of my flatmates and I will go to Edinburgh which should be fun!

Ireland (Saturday through Wednesday)

Pictures (double click to view large, back arrow to return to blog): 1) Dunluce Castle, 2) looking to the west from the castle, 3) shore near castle, 4) on a bridge connecting parts of the castle, 5) looking east from the castle, 6) me in the castle, 7) inside the little cave we hiked down to, 8) Tommy and Lauren on the upper pathway at Giant's Causeway, 9) God's sun rays shining down, 10) Giant's Causeway from afar, 11) the Giant's Causeway basalt steps, 12) me on the coast in Portrush, 13) the suspension bridge from afar, 14) the beach at Ballycastle taken from the dunes, 15) Dublin by night, 16) Tommy and Lauren at pub in Dunloy, 17) at "mini-stonehenge", 18) Car, Lauren, Tommy, Adam, Paul, Nate in hotel on St. Patrick's Day, 19) Jan, Tommy, Lauren, 20) Car with Neive and Stephanie in The Temple Bar

On Saturday morning Krystle and Stephen left at 7:45 to take the tube to Heathrow and catch their flight back to America. I left at 8:30 and made it to my 10:50 flight in plenty of time to fly into Belfast. Tommy and his friends met me at the gate in Belfast – I was a little shocked to see all of them because everyone except Cathaoir (pronounced Ka-her, but Car for short) was supposed to have just flown out to Glasgow, Scotland for a football (soccer) match that was happening the next day. Well, as it turns out, the guys (Paul, Nate, and Adam) missed their flight by about 3 minutes, so after they said hi to me, they went and booked tickets for a ferry to the Scotland mainland then a train from there. Car and Tommy then took me to their BMW rental car and Tommy drove us back to Car’s house in Dunloy (about 30 min away). Car would’ve driven if he hadn’t been so hung over, but despite driving on the left side of the road, Tommy did a really good job. When we got to the house I met Jan (the woman who is letting Tommy stay in her uptown condo in Charlotte until he closes on a place) and another Irish friend named Francis. Car’s parents weren’t there at the time, so I didn’t get to meet them until later, but their house reminded me of my grandfather’s house in Miami, which struck me as funny. The bathroom was all tiled and there was one long hallway with all the rooms off of it. It had 4 or 5 bedrooms, and a kitchen, dining room, living room and family room. It was nice to be in a real house instead of a flat.

After I met Jan and Francis, Tommy and I left the three of them in Dunloy (all of which were recovering from the night before) and drove the half hour to the northern coast. The drive was just beautiful, with tiny little roads lined with fields of sheep and small mountains all around. It was so exciting to see mountains! If we put the windows down we could hear the sheep baaing and there were many lambs, so it must be the season for them. They were so cute, running about chasing each other.

When we got to the coast we drove along the Giant’s Causeway Coastline and the view was phenomenal. I saw this castle on the side of the road and we stopped there. It was only £2 per person, and it was right on the edge of a coastal cliff. Dunluce Castle (located on the edge of a basalt outcropping in County Antrim, Northern Ireland) was more like the shell of a castle, being so very old (built around 1200). I had a great time climbing all over the castle ruins and gazing out at the breathtaking view. While it had been overcast all day, the sun started shining through breaks in the clouds in glorious rays, illuminating a little island off shore and showing off the waves’ lovely green color. The wind whipped about ferociously, but after walking about it didn’t feel so cold, and the dessert given to the eyes made up for the wind’s cruelty.

There was a little path near the castle that led down to a cave which was hard climbing into (the floor was covered in slippery smooth rocks) but the back of the cave opened onto the ocean and standing inside you could watch the waves rushing up onto the rocks and retreating again. It was so cool.

After exploring that area we drove to Giant’s Causeway (the site, not the road). It is an area of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns, the result of an ancient volcanic eruption and is considered the 4^th greatest wonder of the UK. That was £5 for both of us, and because it was later, we didn’t have to pay for parking. First we walked along the upper path that led along the cliff line, looking down on the Giant’s Causeway, then we took the lower path and climbed on the rocks. It is amazing to think they are naturally built. From atop the rock columns, we looked west and watched as the sun set over the ocean, and it was magnificently beautiful. We didn’t get to walk the whole path because it was getting dark, but we thought it was worth the money nonetheless. By this point we were nearly starving, weren’t quite sure how to get back to Car’s, and it was getting dark. We drove over to a nearby town called Portrush and decided to just stay there for the night so we could see more sights in the morning and get back to Car’s in the daylight. After dropping our stuff at a Ramada, we walked over to a “wee little place” to a get a bite to eat. (This was what the Irish receptionist said when we inquired about where to eat – the Irish use “wee” a lot).

There were three main restaurants in Portrush, all in the same building, but the lines were so long, thus we went to a place called The Blue Duck across the street. While there was no line, it took them forever to serve us. I got lasagna with a side salad and Tommy got a steak burger (a real steak on a bun), and we split. The lasagna was strange (not really bad, just not like US lasagna) but the steak burger was fabulous. All of it was £12, so not bad for a real restaurant.

The Ramada came with a full Irish buffet breakfast, so in the morning we ate very well. Eggs, croissants, toast, French toast, juice, and yogurt – all in all, I ate far too much. Lol When we left the hotel we went to where we had parked the car and it was right by the water, and the view was beautiful. I climbed down some rocks to the water and smelled the salt water and enjoyed the fabulous sunshine. We then drove to Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge which is a suspension bridge that links the mainland to the tiny Carrick Island. It wasn’t nearly as high or long as the suspension bridge at Grandfather Mountain, but it was really cool and the water was absolutely beautiful! It looked very much like the water in the Cinque Terra (Italy) that I saw with Mom and Dad junior year of high school – turquoise green.

I haven’t mentioned the grass yet – all of it was soft and a luscious green – long, but blown over by the wind in a kind of carpet. It felt so amazing to sit or stand on, and I found myself often reaching over and running my hand along some of it.

From the Carrick-a-Rede bridge, we drove to Ballycastle. We were looking for the actual castle,

but only found the lovely little coastal town. They had a sandy beach that was quite beautiful, so we parked and walked on the beach, looking at all the pretty stones (I carried two back). They don’t have shells – just perfectly smooth stones – most beaches in England only have stones and no sand at all. The dunes were also covered in the long, lush grass, so it made a nice spot to sit and people watch. We left about 1:30 pm in order to buy a map and then make it back to Car’s before the Manchester United football game at 3 pm. We were going to watch it in Dunloy’s local pub with Car and Jan (and watch to see if we could see the boys in the stands on TV lol). The whole group of them are HUGE Manchester United fans, and if the tickets weren’t so expensive, I’m sure they all would have gone to Glasgow to watch the game.

When we arrived at Car’s house, no one was home, so Tommy let me drive us to the pub (a mile away) – it was the first time I’d driven since I’ve been here, and the first time I’d driven on the left side of the road. I ran the left side of the car off the road into a muddy ditch right off the bat (didn’t get stuck or anything, just scared Tommy to death), spraying the BMW in mud, but after that I got the hang of it. However, Jan and Car weren’t at the pub either, so after figuring out how to call them from my cell phone, we found out that they had just arrived back at the house from being out. Tommy wouldn’t let me drive back. Haha

Francis, who still hadn’t gone home yet, drove us to the pub and dropped us off before heading back to whatever part of Ireland he lived in, then Jan, Car, Tommy and I watched the game, chatted, and ate at the

pub. Since we didn’t have a vehicle with us, Car’s dad picked us up after the game finished (Manchester won). We got back and I was officially introduced to his parents before Car said we’d have a “wee” tour around his town. I drove (despite Tommy’s chagrin) since they’d all been drinking a bit, but I did very well, though at one point Car said, “Hey Lauren, see that pedal to your right there? Use it.” They drive VERY fast in Ireland – according to Car it’s 60 km everywhere (not really). But I ignored him considering his town is all of about 3 streets anyway and there were no cars behind me – I didn’t want to speed up and risk hitting any more ditches.

Car directed me first to what he refers to as a “mini Stonehenge.” Basically, Dooey’s Cairn, a Neolithic tomb dating from around 2000-4000BC, is a burial mound surrounded by rocks that stick up. When excavated in 1935 they found remnants of an axe head and other tools. That was pretty neat. Next he directed me to a graveyard where several things make it important. First off, the first victim of the potato famine is said to have been buried there. Secondly, some years ago a boy was going to the graveyard to visit his grandmother’s tomb when he saw a pile of guns (laid there by the British). The British were hiding nearby and thought that if someone saw the guns and returned to collect them, then the person was involved with the IRA. The boy ran to get his grandfather, and appearing back in the graveyard before the old man, the SAS (the Brits) shot him to death. Incidentally, he had absolutely nothing to do with the IRA, and the SAS were not held accountable when the grandfather came running in after hearing the shots. In more recent years the IRA’s goal is to join Northern Ireland with the Republic of Ireland in the south (i.e. – to be independent from England), but back then the IRA’s goal was to gain equal rights for Catholics. If it were not for their efforts, Car said he would not have even been allowed to go to university. The population of N. Ireland is almost 50/50 Catholic and Protestant, and the Republic of Ireland is mostly Catholic. Because with King Henry VIII’s split from the Catholic Church, the Catholics in Ireland have been egregiously mistreated. I’m telling you, everything in the UK has something to do with Henry VIII!

After that grave yard Car directed me toward one more spot where some IRA guys were killed by some SAS guys. I think some SAS may have been killed as well. This was before the peace agreement in the 80s when the IRA and SAS decided there would be no more killing of potentially innocent people, and equality strides would be made in other ways (though I believe the IRA didn’t officially declare cease-fire until much later). The radical IRA men who recently shot two British soldiers in Belfast and the two innocent pizza delivery guys were looked down upon by everyone, even Car and other Catholics who essentially support the goals of the IRA. Their actions were “totally not cool or supported” according to Car. Thus, they should not be seen as examples of the IRA as a whole today.

It is amazing though, that today if you have a Catholic name and you go into a Protestant bar, there is definitely potential for physical danger (bar brawls) or they can refuse to serve you. It is probably the same the other way around. For the most part, even if no one knows your name, they can tell by your accent where you are from. Most little towns (like Dunloy) are mostly Catholic or mostly Protestant. Dunloy only has 1,071 people, and 97% are Catholic.

After that last shooting location, I drove us back to Car’s place, and we sat around with his parents, and they told us some stories about the history of their area during the potato famine and during the intense tensions between the IRA and the SAS. Back then, if you were stopped by the SAS driving somewhere, they could choose to detain you, etc. if you were Catholic. Even a couple days ago, after the recent Belfast shootings, Car’s parents were stopped and asked to see their licenses and asked where they were going (though they didn’t have to fear for their lives like they had a few times in the past). So different from America where you have to have a reason to stop someone!

The next morning (Monday), the four of us got up and ate breakfast (Car’s wonderful mother set out cereal, milk, juice, jam, and butter and made tons of toast). She said if she’d known we weren’t in a rush to get to Dublin she would’ve made us a hot Irish breakfast. I guess mothers are the same everywhere – always trying to feed people. Haha

Tommy drove us to the airport (Car is too fast a driver and would scare the crap out of Tommy, Jan, and me) where we were to meet the boys (back from Glasgow) and drop off the rental car. Car didn't seem real concerned about picking up the guys on time, so he directed Tommy to the site where the SAS were recently shot in Belfast by the two IRA radicals. The site (right at the entrance of the British military base) was covered in flowers. It was crazy that we could park across the street and walk right up to it. (Tommy and I stayed in the car, but Jan and Car walked over and even asked the guard how many rounds had been fired - 60 by the way). They saw the bullet holes and everything. In America, after something like that had happened, you'd not be able to get anywhere near it! When they got back in the car Tommy and I were like "Do you know how many guns were probably just aimed at you two?" Car just laughed and said, "And the guy knew I was Catholic too." I asked him how and he said, "Well, besides my accent, probably the way I asked how many rounds had been fired at them."

When we finally got to the airport, Paul, Nate, and Adam all looked absolutely exhausted (having gotten two hours of sleep the night before), and after we got on the bus to go to Dublin, they all fell asleep. I slept part of the way, but the trip was 3 hours long, and I woke up 45 minutes before we arrived really wishing the bus had a bathroom so I could pee. Car and Tommy were the only ones who stayed awake the whole time, but they still had a lot of catching up to do (as they were best friends when Car was in Charlotte last summer). Car really liked Charlotte and hopes to come back again this summer to work at Connolly’s Irish Pub. Car is almost 23 and plays Gaelic football very seriously, but doesn’t have a real job yet in Ireland. He went to “uni” (university) for exercise and sports science and wants to be a physical education teacher eventually (probably teaching Gaelic and soccer).

When we got to Dublin air port, we found toilets then switched buses to a bus that took us into the center city. After dropping our stuff at the hotel (there were 7 of us staying in two 3-person rooms – bet the hotel staff wouldn’t have been real happy about that), we walked around Dublin, looking at the beautiful buildings (the architect who designed them also designed many in D.C. and thus they had a similar feel). Finally we decided to find somewhere to eat, but everything was very expensive (I was having Paris flashbacks). Tommy and I thought it was because we were in the Temple Bar district (which is touristy) and so we decided to go elsewhere while the rest of them ate at some greasy looking fast food joint. Car gave me his phone to call them when we were done since Tommy’s phone wasn’t working in Ireland and mine only had thee pounds left on it. Tommy and I walked for what seemed like forever before we found a nice Irish pub that wasn’t too ridiculously priced. I had shepherd’s pie (a combination of mashed potatoes, carrots, peas, and mostly – mincemeat…yeah, well, it was authentic!), and Tommy had a curry chicken sandwich. They are famous for their curry in Ireland, but it is nothing like the spicy curry we have in the US. And of course there were chips (French fries) because there are chips with any and every meal in Ireland.

We left and walked back toward the Temple Bar District and tried calling Jan, but she didn’t pick up, so we stopped in an ice cream shop to wait for her. The streets were getting really crazy at this point (with TONS of loud, obnoxious, drunk Americans). Everyone was reared up to bring in St. Patrick ’s Day at midnight. Finally Jan called back and told us what pub they were settled in, but the directions we got from the ice cream shop lady were wrong, and it took us forever to walk there. When we’d finally given up and got into a cab to take us there he said “Uh…Flannery’s is that red door right there.” He was very nice, as he could’ve easily driven us around and dropped us off in front of the place and we would’ve never been the wiser. He wouldn’t even take a tip.

However, when we got out and walked to Flannery’s, the line to get in the door was about 500 people long! We were like “you’ve GOT to be kidding me!” So, we turned around and started walking back in the direction of the hotel (or so we thought…until I recognized the tall space needle thing that is near our hotel in the completely opposite direction). All in all, we probably walked about five miles. Haha I’m glad we went back when we did though, because by the time we got there it was already 11:30 and the rest of the them didn’t get back in until about 3 am and were completely wrecked.

On St. Patrick’s’ day Tommy and I woke up before all the guys but Jan, (who apparently doesn’t sleep) got up at 9 to meet some Irish girlfriends who also were in Charlotte last summer. I went to the pub in the lobby to get a scone (or as Car would say, it’s not a scone, it’s a “scon” – with the ‘o’ pronounced like ‘aw’), and when Tommy was ready we walked down to Subway. The St. Paddy’s day parade started at noon, and it was only about 10:30, but the streets were already packed. Everyone had on crazy green hats and beards, were blowing whistles, screaming – basically, it was mayhem.

Once we got our foot long subs (my tuna sub was on special so it was only 4.99 Euros for a foot long, otherwise I would’ve gotten a 6” which, as it turns out, I should have), we walked back to the hotel and ate in the room until the guys were ready. Then we met Jan and the two Irish girls downstairs and all of us sat around in the pub as the parade went by, listening and watching it on TV. This may sound crazy since it was literally going right by the front of our hotel, but it was so crowded, we couldn’t even walk out the door of our hotel. It was nice chatting with everyone, but I started feeling sick, especially when Tommy made me eat another half of a “scon” he couldn’t finish.

After the parade was over they were all going to walk over to Croke Park where there was a hurling match and a Gaelic football match that Car especially wanted to see. Tommy wasn’t sure if he wanted to see the Gaelic match or not (for 25 Euros a ticket), and I was so full that I couldn’t even conceive of walking all the way there. Thus, I let them go and went to the room where I read some Bleak House and took a two hour nap. By the time I woke up I was feeling much better and Tommy and Adam got back about 5 pm. They had all walked down to the park, where the hurling match was already over, then sat around at a pub to have a couple pints. The Gaelic match started at 4:30, and since Adam and Tommy opted out, they walked back, but got a bit lost on the way. Adam wasn’t feeling well either, so we all just sort of hung around until Car, Jan, Nate, and Paul returned.

After they got ready we went to a fish a chips place for dinner (which was not very good – I had a hamburger and it looked scarier than the mincemeat from the night before and I couldn’t even bring myself to try the chips). We started walking to the Temple Bar District again, and I picked up some yogurt with granola from a newsagent along the way.

First we stopped in a club called The Living Room where we met Neive (that’s not spelled right, but it’s pronounced like Eve with an ‘n’) and Stephanie, who were two other Irish girls who lived in Charlotte last summer. Stephanie and Car used to date, so he wasn’t real keen on seeing her again, but we essentially picked them up and all walked to Temple Bar (the actual bar, not the district) which was really crowded, but a good place. It played mostly American music, but really good sing-along kind of songs like American Pie. We basically formed our own little party and danced and talked (and everyone else drank). After Neive and I danced to “Hot Potato” which was in Dirty Dancing, she

said “Why haven’t I met you before?” It was said in a way that made me feel good like – ‘you’re cool, why aren’t we friends?’ It was a really fun night and I just love all those people. Some of them may be bits of lushes, but they are great people with hearts of gold. Car was just hysterical and we had a constant teasing banter the whole trip – we seemed to fall into a brother/sister dynamic right off, and I hope he is able to come back to Charlotte, because he really is amusing and a good kid. I don’t know why any girl would ever date him (he’s a total player with little responsibility and drinks too much), but I can see why Tommy is such good friends with him. Jan is so incredibly generous and sweet as can be, Nate struck me as so young (though he’s 2 years older than me), but he was also very sweet. Basically, everyone was lovely and I had a great time with them.

Tommy and I left the bar at midnight since I’d have to get up at 9 to fly back to London this morning. Again, the rest of them didn’t come back in until after 2 (and Jan had to get up at 6 am to catch her flight back to America!). The next morning I realized we not only had

the 7 of us in two rooms, but Stephanie and Neive ended up there as well. Haha Tommy came with me to the airport where we had breakfast before I caught my flight. He and the rest of the group were going back to Belfast today, then on to Car’s today or tomorrow.

On Friday Nate and Tommy will take a ferry from Belfast to Scotland, then the train from Scotland to London. Nate has friends he wants to see here and Tommy wants to see London as well, so I’ll get to see them in two days. Then they fly out Monday back to the US.

My flight back on Ryanair was really good (great weather), and the guy sitting next to me was from South Africa and we chatted the whole way. He told me all about Cape Town (he’s been mugged there 10 times!) and how he’s trying to get his British visa right now (which he’ll get after he lives here for five years since

his grandmother was British). He told me about him and his friend’s troubles with their flight over and how they had missed the flight they’d tried to get on earlier in the morning. It was nice to have someone to talk to the whole time, and it made me less conscious of my motion sick tendencies and my slight fear of takeoff and landing.