Adventures in Gingerland

My year in Ireland

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Worlds collide

In my previous life, just a few short years ago, I was introduced to the world of travelers.  No, I don’t mean the gypsy’s we have here in Cork.  I’m referring to those of the therapy world.  Little did I know that when Miss Amanda McCurry asked to rent a room in my Austin home for three short months that it would turn into 2+ years and the chance to meet some many amazing traveling PTAs, PTs & OTs.  I tell you this bit of history so the title of this little tidbit of life in Ireland makes sense.

When I moved to Ireland, I never expected for my Austin life getting to know the traveling therapists would collide with my new city centre living.  I got a message from one of the therapists I was lucky enough to meet, low & behold she was traveling to London then making a stop in Ireland.  We had to meet up! Now, in a perfect world I would have gotten time to meet them in London and join in the fun for the entire holiday.  In reality, I got to spend about 36 hours with them but that was just enough time for a great adventure!

Miller Time wasn’t traveling alone, she brought the best along for the ride!  So, on Saturday morning we piled five Americans into a car, drove on the wrong side of the road, shifted with the left hand and avoided head on collisions along the small roads of Ireland.  Now, we were on a mission to make it from Cork to Dingle and on to Galway before the end of the night.

As some of you may remember, I went to Dingle in County Kerry at the end of June but nobody can turn down another visit to the beauty of the Irish coast.  This time, I got to be the tour guide and see beauty I missed the last time around.  The sun decided not to bless us with it’s presence but that made for a true Irish experience with lashing rain, cloudy skies, wind blowing and sheep resting on the hills.

We even got to see one of the sheep crossing the road.  Luckily it was behind us so we didn’t get stuck waiting in any sheep crossing traffic 

The views were stunning, even with gray skies.

One stop we made while making our trek along the Wild Atlantic Way was to see what is believed to be an ancient Christian church called Gallarus Oratory.  The church is believed to have been built somewhere between 6th-12th century.  Building things to last, what an almost lost concept.

The above is a view of the fuchsia bushes which lined the walk to the church.

After circle back into Dingle, enjoying the local fish & chips along with the infamous Murphy’s ice cream it was time to hit the road for Galway.  On the way, we found an old abbey to snoop aroundWe made it just in time to hit the pubs.  The rain couldn’t stop us from taking in the local venues and listening to Irish music.  What I didn’t expect is that late into the night, I would be standing between one American and one Irishman, translating.  As I stood between the two, I was struggling to listen carefully in the loud pub as the older Irishman, who had overheard my traveling friends were from Seattle, started talking about the television show Frasier.  Wait, we all speak English right?!  Well, almost.  The Irish accent can be quite thick and sometimes hard to understand but there are also those random phrases with which we just aren’t familiar.  I found myself looking back & forth between the two as my American friend would smile at the Irishman then look quickly to me to translate.  The Irishman made a “joke” about spending a fiver a week on food then soon after refers to a hurling match.  I had to explain that spending a fiver just means spending five euros on food and that hurling is a sport popular in Ireland.  Again, world’s colliding.  I’m going to walk away from this year really understanding old Irishmen in pubs.  Success.

The next morning brought the end to my adventure time with this dynamic crew.  As they ventured around and made their way to Dublin, I took the train back to Cork City.  Don’t worry though, we made a handful of memories in our little bit of time together.  Thanks for letting me crash the party guys!

As for Galway, I’ll be back very soon when I can take in the scenery and share pictures.  Until next time…

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Adventures in Gingerland turned 5 today!

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Hauntingly enticing Edinburgh

I’ve come to love these weekend trips not only to new cities, but new countries.  It really doesn’t seem possible that it’s real life.  

The minute we arrived in Edinburgh, you could feel the gothic, haunting vibe of the city.  Dark structures backlit by glowing light, a castle situated high on a hill, old town versus new town.  I loved it all, even if it was frigid.  During my stint of traveling this year, I’ve come to realize that the location of your accommodations can make or break a city.  Thank goodness we chose well for the short time in Edinburg.  The hotel had the look of an old castle on the outside, filled with contemporary amenities on the inside and was nestled in the center of the old town right along the Royal Mile.

Upon arrival, the first mission was to find a pub where we could watch a bit of Six Nations rugby.  We may have been the only ones in there cheering on Ireland in a terribly embarrassing loss to France but you know what they say, it’s all about the experience.  Scotland had the next match so it only made sense to stick around.  The hot, Scottish bartender working behind the bar, he had nothing to do with it all ;).  We even tried a bit of haggis, not that I’ll be craving that again anytime soon.

The next day, tourist time!  All aboard the hop on/hop off bus to get a view of the city.  A stop at the castle was a must.  I’d say we could have spent half a day there meandering about and the views are spectacular.

With the trip being so short, most of our touring was just walking the city streets.  The city was one of many levels, steps lead you somewhere new. Taking in the scenery and enjoying the atmosphere, which included stumbling upon an adorable market located inside an old church.  Local vendors set up selling clothes, jewelry, records, you name it.  A great use of the space.

After spending way too many pounds sterling with the local vendors, live music coming from a local bar was too inviting not to walk inside.  There we stumbled upon a couple locals who took us and let us tag along to the next bar, one located underground, with more live music.  

Short but sweet, the weekend came to an end but we left filled with fabulous memories.

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Madrid Familia

I knew when I arrived in Madrid, this getaway would be an experience of a lifetime.  Boy was I right…one much different than any other over the previous ten months in Europe.  I got the opportunity to see Madrid with a true local.  A friend of mine invited me to tag along on a visit home.  No hotel needed this time, we were staying with mom.  No paid tour guide or hop on/hop off bus required.  It turned out to be a true family experience complete with a local’s view of the city and it’s history.  Ainhoa's family welcomed me with open arms, spoiling me from the moment I arrived.  I wasn’t allowed to help clear the dishes or help prepare anything.  In fact, when I tried to help, Granny got on to Ainhoa telling her I should be resting.  I tried not to giggle when I was just standing in the living room, Granny was pointing the couch basically telling me to sit down and relax.  I gestured that I was ok then she slapped my hand and pointed to the couch!  Ha, ok ok, I will take a load off.  No words necessary.

We went straight from the airport to a fresh lunch being prepared and I’m not talking a peanut butter sandwich.  Fresh Serrano ham and a beer while we waited.  Paella, bread and wine served for lunch.  I was in heaven!

I could write an entire page on the amazing food prepared for me during my time.  Croquettes, fish, potatoes, raclette and the best Spanish omelette I've ever had!  Meal time was a family affair and I loved every minute of it.  The family spoke little to no English and switched easily between Spanish & French so needless to say, I was lost most of the time!  Everyone talking loudly back & forth, talking over each other, laughing uncontrollably.  Ainhoa did her best to keep up translating but sometimes it was better just to soak up the atmosphere.  

In between meals, we spent our time walking through the streets of Madrid.  The first day found us shopping and spending way too much on “bargains” we couldn’t live without.  The next day spent meandering around a local market that spanned several city blocks offering everything from jewelry and art to vintage clothes and antiques.  A look at the palace and cathedral.  Soon it was time for cerveza at the local bars.  The prices compared to Ireland were astonishing.  A bucket of five beers could be purchased for €5…about the price of a single pint here.

The next day I didn’t realize it but we were in for a walking tour of the city.  After taking the metro, Ainhoa’s uncle took us across the city to showcase history, beauty and bars. We stopped along the way for what else, cerveza!  The tapas were delicious and made the day even better.  We were exhausted but it was all worth it at the end of the day!

Since we saw the city from almost every view by foot, our last full day found as adventuring outside of Madrid to a small town El Escorial, in the mountains.  A tour of San Lorenzo which is a historical residence of the king of Spain and serves as a monastery, royal palace, museum, and school.

I left Madrid with a full heart and a full tummy!  I will be forever grateful for this beautiful family who opened their homes to me.  I know I couldn’t tell them directly how much I appreciated their hospitality but I hope my actions conveyed it beyond my words.  Madrid, I will be back that you can be certain.  I hope the family will be ready for me again!

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A Tenerife Thanksgiving

Since my move to Austin over five years ago, I’ve gotten used to spending Thanksgiving away from the majority of my family. Instead, I’ve shared the day cooking for friends, cooking with my brother or once attending a Thanksgiving day like no other.  That day is one for another blog, another day.

When 2015 found me in Ireland, I wondered to myself what the heck I was going to do in a country where Thanksgiving isn’t recognized.  I can get over not being surrounded by family but going to work like it doesn’t exist, I just didn’t want to do that.  Well, did I ever end up with an alternative.  Turkey, stuffing and pie would be replaced with bread, brie and Serrano ham in the Canary Islands!  A direct flight from Cork took us to a short but sweet holiday in Tenerife.

Most of my trips this year have been chalk full  of tourist sightseeing.  This one was all about relaxation, sun, a good book and maybe even an umbrella drink.  We arrived in the early evening and made the decision to take advantage of the resort restaurant for “Thanksgiving” dinner.  Walking in, the place wasn’t too crowded.  We chose a seat so we could see the stage because in true resort style, there promised to be in-house entertainment.  Seated next to us a nice older couple.  All was good as we ordered our prosecco and black tagliatelle with garlic butter prawns.  Holy smokes, I like turkey but give me shrimp any day!

As the entertainment was setting up, we were in for a surprise pre-show.  It was just then we noticed a table of 12, all well over the age of 65.  We took a further look around and realized we may actually be bringing down the average age by half.  Don't we know how to choose the most happenin’ place to be!  The table was a group of holiday-goers that we believe we from Sweden and they proceeded to start a dance competition.  Pure entertainment as this group moved and “grooved” on the dance floor.  Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better…the ABBA cover show started!  I’m laughing as I type this just remembering us sitting there, sipping a bubbly and shaking our heads at our choice of venue.  Don’t let me fool you though, we were singing right along with the best of them.  I’m not ashamed to admit, I can’t resist a bit of ABBA.

The rest of the time was spent poolside with a book, eating fresh bread with brie and ham, mimosas in the morning, a nice massage outside while the sun was setting.  The sun didn’t come out to play quite as much as I would have preferred but a little goes a long way when you’re used to days of rain.  We even left the resort to see a bit of the city for a lovely dinner out.  More prawns, of course.

I have to say, I love my family and my friends-givings but I could handle another Tenerife Thanksgiving in the near future.

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A pickle of a time with the Dill sisters

I’m now flashing back to mid-October.  Mom was in town, we’d survived the spa trip.  I headed back to work while Mom adventured during the day but we made the most of our time together. This being her third visit and all, it was high time she was introduced to a proper afternoon tea.  The Kingsley Hotel was the perfect place for a spot of tea.  Oh, who am I kidding?  My afternoon tea includes champagne.

The quiz night crew welcomed Mom with open arms and she loved getting in on the game!  The next night I arrived home from work to fresh stir fry with cauliflower in place of rice.  I mean, what visit from Mom is complete without a homemade meal??  Solo time with Mom came to an end as we made our way to the airport to collect the one, the only, my Mexican taxi cab driver.  Ok, inside joke. For the rest of the world, aunt Annette had arrived!

These two still pick on each other like 10 year olds and I love it.  We wasted absolutely no time to begin the laughter.  If you’ve never attempted a lip sync-off, Jimmy Fallon style, don’t.  Unless you are prepared to make a fool of yourself and laugh until it hurts.  I swore on my life I wouldn't share photos or videos, yes videos, of this event that took place in my living room.  I’ll just say Mr. Roboto and Walk This Way never looked so good.  

It was time now to take these two sisters on a Paddywagon tour.  This ‘wagon’ picked us up in Cork, stopped long enough in Killarney for a stroll through town and an all important coffee.  Then on through Killorglin, Dingle Bay, Waterville, Sneem, back through Killarney National Park and then a stop at the Torc Waterfall.  The views were gorgeous even through fog and wind.  Bus tours make for a long day but such a great opportunity to make our way through the country without a car.  

The next day required a little rest and by rest I mean we milled about the city of Cork, enjoyed the gorgeous day and made an introduction to my new love, rugby.  As those of you who know my Mom can imagine, she was immediately into it.  Much longer and she’d likely have been yelling at the tv!

To bring the weekend to an end, my dear friend offered up her own tour guide work.  We were picked up and taken on a beautiful drive to Carrigaline, on to Crosshaven and then to Bunnyconnellan for lunch with a view on the coast.  Fresh air, nice food, stunning views with great company and laughter.  What more could you ask out of life?  On the way home, a quick stop in Kinsale.  Even on a day without sun, this little coastal town is adorable.

The time had come for Mom to head back to reality.  Sad to see her go because there’s never enough time when we vacation together.  Annette and I were left to adventure on.  I introduced her to DeCalf and they made a loyal customer for the rest of her time in Cork. I again had to go back to work.  I mean, you’d think I was here for work or something?  Annette was so very brave, after tips from her sister, and went adventuring out on her own making day trips to Blarney Castle and the Cliffs of Moher.  The next weekend brought on another Paddywagon tour.  This round to see the Rock of Cashel in county Tipperary, Kilkenny and a quick beach visit in Youghal (pronounced y’all).  

Ireland shenanigans with the Dill sisters.  How lucky is this girl?  I can’t wait for our next trip.  Thank you both for making the long haul across the pond to experience this Cork like with me.  

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Spa Day = Relaxation, Right?

The day had finally arrived, Mom was visiting Ireland.  This wasn’t her first trip overseas or even her first trip to Cork.  I think after three visits now, my Mom knows Cork better than me.

So, what could I do to make this one a little different?  A spa day in Fota, just a short train journey away from Cork City.  I visited the site for Fota Island Resort and Spa, it said it was only a short five kilometers from the train stop.  OK, we could handle that.

Mom made it safely and I surprised her with the spa day full of facials, massages, pedicures and rest.  We hopped on the train prepared for relaxation. Well, thank goodness we built in plenty of time…

The train took us swiftly to the stop in Fota, directly at the Fota Wildlife Park.  Sounds ok, right?  Except that the stop looked deserted and led directly to a gravel road.  A sign told us the Fota House & Gardens was just ahead so we had to be on the right track.  As we pounded the pavement, well in this case, gravel, I looked to the right and was sure my eyes had deceived me.  “Mom, is that a kangaroo on the side of that fence?”  We continued our walk and made it to the Fota House, gorgeous gardens and fresh our.  One problem - where the heck was the spa & resort?  Modern technology prevailed as I got out my phone, gave them a ring.  I told them we were at the house & gardens, how far were they from that location?  Oh, only a couple kilometers up the road but walking here wouldn’t be safe.  Well isn’t that great for my transportation limits. In the middle of gardens and wildlife, no taxi is to be found.  I started to get upset because all I wanted was to treat this lady to a day of luxury, not a walk in the wild.  Visibly frustrated at this point I look over at Mom, who was clearly in vacation-chill mode at this point, as she said “Brandi, it will be fine.  This is an adventure”.

Adventure it was.  We made it to the entrance for the home of the kangaroo, called the spa and they sent over a van to rescue us just in time for our appointment.  We delighted in spa time, complete with lunch and time to rest in the heated recliner chairs.

Oh, in case you were wondering, forget the train…we took a taxi home.  

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Transportation, all aboard!

I know you’ve heard me mention before that during my stay in Ireland, I’m reliant on public transportation.  Note my excitement here people.  If you’ve never noticed, I’m a bit independent and a lot stubborn.  Not having the option to hop in my car and go wherever I please on any given day has been a bit of a struggle.  Thank goodness for an apartment with the perfect location, a bus route directly to work and friends with cars!

Most days I take the bus to work.  I’m all ready to leave in the morning, then check the clock only to realize the next bus isn’t for another 20 minutes.  Come on, I’m ready to go now %@$!  Fine.  Walk to the bus stop, stand for a bit except oh wait, the bus is running behind so it will be an extra five minutes.  Tick tock, tick tock. I could be checking items off my to do list at work by now.  Instead, I’m choking on the smell of smoke from everyone waiting alongside me. Alright, I make it onto the bus and hope it isn’t so full that people are crammed together like sardines.  The smells on the bus aren’t much better than the second hand smoke inhalation.  Sweat, coffee, smoke, curry and general body odor could describe the mix of smells some days.  Yummy!

The above descriptions may help you to understand why some days, I skip the circus and pay for a taxi. On one particular day in January, I took a walk past the bus stop and on to Patrick Street when I realized I would be standing waiting for quite some time. As a general rule, a walk along Patrick Street will find taxis lined up and prepared to take me anywhere my little heart desires.  I should have known this would be a much different experience when, on this day, I turned the corner to find only a single taxi in queue.  Felt odd but I’ve got to get to work.  I jumped in the back seat, which automatically indicates I’m a foreigner considering others have no problem getting in the front seat on a solo journey.  The driver is older, quite normal.  The fun began as soon as the driver turned the car on and struggled to get out of park.  The car was sputtering and shaking and I started to wonder if we were going to make it up the continuous hill that leads to the office.  We turned a corner and started the climb of yet another hill, the car begged the driver to shift gears.  I struggle to hide my facial expressions on a good day, so I can only imagine I looked frightened.  Don’t worry, we made it safe and sound except when we arrived, he started asking me questions.  My face turned from frightened to confused as I didn’t understand a word he said!  All that ran through my mind was concentrate, Brandi.  Just nod and smile.  I may have agreed to call him later, who knows.  I made it out alive and at that point, that was all that mattered.

I should point out, the above are quite dramatic, even if true.  Most days are quite standard and hello, I’m surviving.  I’m also learning to appreciate my car and freedoms.

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Oktoberfest, Cork style

Right now you’re probably saying to yourself, hello Brandi it is January, not October.  Yeah, I’m fully aware but I’m still playing catch up and I couldn’t bring myself to leave out the fun of Oktoberfest.  No, I didn’t get the opportunity to venture over to Germany for the main event but instead, I was able to partake in Cork’s very own miniature celebration.  When I say miniature celebration, what I actually mean is an party spread out over 1 October to 11 October and filled with tents at the old Beamish factory, hats, sausages and who could leave out...beer.

The tents were packed with locals, transplants and visitors alike taking in the atmosphere.  Lines were forming for the tasty Paulaner Oktoberfest brew.  Vouchers in hand, I made my way to the front of the line and bartends asks “would you like the glass or the liter?”.  My inside voice was saying “Sir, who are we kidding?  Go big or go home” but my outside voice just politely said, “I’ll take the liter”.  Game on.

The party started in the daylight and went well into the night.  The bavarian style hat was necessary to celebrate in style.  Sausages, sauerkraut, pretzels & chips qualify as dinner, right? 

Celebrating the night with friends made for a helluva time from beginning to end.  It was so good, I had to make a second appearance to close out the festival.  I think I’m now ready to tackle the original party.  

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Italy was bellissimo

When I set out for my Adventure in Gingerland, I never could have imagined my bestest friend would make the journey over!  The joy of seeing new places is doubled when you have your friend by your side.  Even better when it means bad influence time on the other side of the ocean.

A brief celebration of Beth’s arrival, then it was off to Dublin so we could catch a flight for Italy.  First stop, the sinking city of Venice.  Arrive by plane, get whisked away on a 40 minute bus ride to finally travel by a water taxi to our hotel.  We only had a brief moment in Venice but it was enough for me to know, I have to go back!  

The streets were busy with tourists, gondolas parked along the shore, small restaurants with outdoor seating and a series of steps to get you up and over the canals curving through the city.  The view from our cozy room was nothing short of stunning.

Dinner was, of course, pasta followed by birthday gelato.  Who would have thought Beth’s #33 would be celebrated in Italy??  Now, what would a trip to Venice be without a gondola ride?  Beth even sweet talked the guy into a lower price for the relaxing trip through the canals.  It was a like a scene right out of the movies and I loved every minute of it.

What better way to see Venice quickly than touring around the island via water taxi?  Hopped on and off as we pleased, pizza by the water for lunch, a little wine (for me, anyway).

Now, off to Rome.  It was late in the evening when we arrived so we chose to take a taxi, flying around the streets.  The traffic was insane!!  People driving in every direction and honking wildly.  My first thought as we drove through town was complete and utter awe for the shear size of every building surrounding us. Add to that the fact that the city was built thousands of years ago.  I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, our ancestors built things to last.

The first day on any trip for me is an adjustment.  I get annoyed because I don’t know where to go, frustrated as I attempt to figure out the public transit and then realization that these are first world problems and I’m traveling in a foreign country so I need to buck up and put my big girl panties on.  So, that is exactly what we did and we dominated Rome.  Even if we did get lost about fifty times, pass the correct path to the Trevi Fountain four times and almost get taken out by the erratic drivers.  The first time we needed to cross the road, it seemed as though traffic was never going to allow.  Then, locals joined the waiting “tourists” and revealed you don't wait for traffic, traffic waits for you.  On a wing and a prayer, you just start moving.  Low and behold, traffic allows for pedestrians to scoot across the road.  When one car gets wieldy, hold up your hand and yell “ehhhh”.  By the end of the trip we had gotten so good, we didn’t even wait for others to risk their lives before we crossed.

We made the most of our time in Rome, hitting the Colosseum, Spanish Steps, Vatican City, St. Peter’s Basilica, Sistine Chapel, Cesar’s tomb, Trevi Fountain, Pantheon.  We walked about 26 miles over the course of three days.  Yep, that’s right Brookfield - we made it to Chillicothe in three days.  Out of everything we got to see, the Colosseum will stand out as my absolute favorite.  To imagine, I’d ever have the chance to walk through something completed in 80 AD, that the Romans had such insight into crowd control, the movement of traffic and what we call today stadium seating.  I was in complete aww and amazement.  So then, we snapped a selfie :)

The Sistine Chapel was a once in a lifetime experience and I mean that truthfully...I’m glad I went and that I will never feel it necessary to return.  It was beautiful, breathtaking, historical.  Touring through The crowds + the heat + feeling like cattle in a shoot while enduring a three hour tour, I was over that very quickly.  Once you are allowed into the Sistine Chapel itself during the museum tour, you are told to be silent and take no pictures, out of respect and preservation.  As you walk in security is shouting “move to the right!” “no talking”.  Errr, what happened to silence, taking in the moment??  St. Peter’s Basilica was a bit more my style - less crowded and gorgeous.

I will say this now, I will go back to Italy one day.  I have whet my appetite and I’m ready for me.  What better way to have gotten my first taste of Italy’s beauty than with my bestest.  Thank you, Beth for joining on my adventure!

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Modern Conveniences

Most of the time when sit down to blog, I write about a recent trip, an event, visitors.  This one is a bit different. 

This week is the Cork Film Festival so I’m hoping to sit in on an interesting short or see an off the wall independent film at some point.  The first film I chose for the week wasn’t actually part of the “film festival” offerings but a local film of sorts anyway.  The film Brooklyn features a young girl who has the opportunity to leave Ireland and immigrate to Brooklyn, New York in the 1950s.

Now, I’m not doing a film review and I won’t leave any spoilers.  I will simply say the movie is worth seeing.  

My point to this rambling is that when I was asked to begin this Adventure in Gingerland, I was scared to death thinking of all the things I might be giving up or missing.  How would I live so far away?  Could I actually move 4,000 miles away to a different country?  Obviously, I made the move with the support of so many but after watching tonight, I realized yet again how lucky I really I have been.  

I let my mind take me to a place where I was living this life in the 1950s.  Instead of taking a journey to the U.S., headed to Ireland.  Leaving my family, friends and everything I knew to be “normal”.  Instead of a comfy flight with a stop or two, travel would be several days on a ship with a not so gentle sway, possible illness, odors and too-close quarters.  Upon arrival, being picked up at the airport and taken to a furnished apartment with a beautiful view of the city, I would likely be sent to hostel-style living arrangements with several other people, getting my own room only if I’m lucky.  A job would be set up for me, but it would likely be one in a department store or local grocery.  Calling my family would be a luxury left for special occasions and writing letters would be standard communication, allowing for weeks rather than days for delivery of said letters.  A visit home?  Likely out of the question unless it is planned at least a year in advance and I save carefully.

Just thinking about it makes me realize how fortunate I am with today’s modern conveniences.  I traveled by plane in a comfortable seat, watching movies and eating hot meals along the way.  I don’t have a car but I live in the middle of city centre and I’m in walking distance of pretty much anything I might need.  I live, quite literally, on top of the grocery store.  Yes, I’m living 4,000 miles away from my family but with FaceTime and texting, it feels almost like I’m just back in Austin and my normal 850 miles from home.  I can pick up my phone and reach anyone within a matter of seconds.  If something happened and I needed to go home, I could be there in less than 24 hours.

Would I have been brave enough to answer the questions in the same way?  How would I live so far away?  Could I actually move 4,000 miles away to a different country? 

I have no idea what decision I would have made back then but today, I will cherish the conveniences I’ve been allowed and do my best to remember them when I’m missing something easily accessible in the U.S.

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Dublin + friends this time

I’m playing catch up again but we’ll just call it a throw back.  When I left you last, Amanda, Christy & I just spent a fabulous weekend in Paris.  Bringing them back here to see Cork and Dublin was almost just as fun.  I went back to work and left the girls to explore Cork, Blarney Castle, Kinsale, the Cliffs of Moher.  We made the most of late afternoon random pub crawls and me showing them the city by night.  The week passed way too quickly and soon, it was time for that train ride to Dublin for a weekend of exploring.

First up on the agenda, a tour of the Guinness Brewhouse.  What better way to prepare for this tour than by reading The Search for God and Guinness.  Thanks to Christy, that is exactly what I did.  Arthur Guinness and his family descendants have done more for their city of Dublin than anyone may realize.  Plus, the beer is fab :)

A stop at St. Patrick’s Cathedral was just as beautiful as the first time.  Dublin Castle’s view from the garden, beautiful.  A little shopping in the local stores and tasty food made for great memories.  

Christy insisted we make a stop at Trinity College and thank goodness she did.  Seeing the Book of Kels, pretty cool.  Walking into the Long Room, absolutely breathtaking.  Books on books on books.  The history in this room is almost unfathomable. 

Next up - a musical pub crawl.  Tell me, how could we pass that up?!  It turned out a little different that expected but we started upstairs in a pub within Temple Bar but quickly took the show on the road.  Led by two guys and their local instruments, we learned the history of Irish music.  From sad & depressing to dancing a jig, what a history lesson.  Right up to the point that they asked for volunteers to share their own song.  Unwittingly listening to the first volunteer and easing into the awkward silence waiting for the next victim, my “friends” suddenly pointed to me, claiming “hey, she can sing”.  To quote my mother in the past “What the?!??!”  I was frozen, turning more red by the second, knowing I had not consumed enough of any beverage on this crawl to open my mouth.  I failed.  Instead, quiet Christy stepped in and blew us all away with a stirring rendition to Boom Chickaboom!!  Class Act.

Alas, it was time to part with these two.  The memories made on their visit, the random quotes we have in our back pocket and the laughs will hold me over until next time.

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Guinness Brewery tour when two of my favorites came to visit Ireland!

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Oui, oui belle ville de Paris

Bonjour, je m’appelle Brandi.  Parlez-vous anglais?  Preparation for this European holiday included a flashback to Ms. Hahn’s 7th grade french class.  Thankfully for us, the citizens of Paris were kind enough to speak english.  If not, we may not have made it out of the airport.

Now, this trip wasn’t just another excursion to a new city.  It included the chance to meet up with two of my favorite ladies.  Amanda & Christy made the long trip over the pond to meet in Paris before coming to Cork to see where I’ve been living all this time.

Our original plan was to fly in and meet up at the place we booked for the weekend.  Life, however had different plans.  Amanda’s bag was late getting in, Christy stayed to provide support and although they spent way more time than planned in the Paris airport, they were still there when my plane arrived from Cork.  Thank goodness because the Paris metro was not as self-explanatory as the London tube and the three day “freedom pass” was the size of a large stamp. By the time we made it out, we had exactly two hours to check-in to the Airbnb, drop our luggage, eat dinner & make it to the bike tour we had booked. Challenge accepted!  We made it with time to spare.

Said bike tour came highly recommended and had me highly concerned with my safety.  Sadly enough, it had been YEARS since I took a spin on a bicycle so the thought of tootling around Paris traffic had me on high alert.  I had actually rented a bike to practice the weekend before Paris, which only served to heighten my fears.  

The good news is, it all came back as we started the tour.  Four hours of zipping through traffic around Paris had me feeling like an old pro on the ol’ bicycle.  Ok, I may be exaggerating a little but I can tell you I’d do it again in a heartbeat.  Seeing Paris as the sun was setting was breathtaking.  As light turned to dark, we traded in our seats on the bike for seats on a boat for a ride along the Seine river with views of the lit-up Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and Parisians enjoying the city’s beauty.

The boat was a nice break from the bike, except for the added crowds.  As part of that crowd, the people directly in front of us (not part of our tour group) were taking in the beauty of the ride through the lens of every device possible (iPad, iPhone, camera) and the use of the ever-amazing selfie-stick.  As they prepared to take what might have been photo number 234, Amanda decided to join in on their selfie-fun with a little photobombing.  The result - one stink eye from the photographer herself followed by a death stare from the entire squad.  Whoa nelly, it was a joke and not intended to ruin one out of 234 photos.  Christy and I were now tasked with making certain Amanda made it off the boat without any selfie-stick injuries.

Safely back on the ground, we headed for a late night snack of bread, cheese & wine before heading for bed.

We prepared ourselves for a full agenda on day two, attempting to take in as much of Paris as possible.  With Christy’s walking tour (guided by the help of Rick Steves) we made our way back to Notre Dame, the Deportation Memorial (commemorating the french victims of Nazi concentration camps) the love lock bridge, the Latin Quarter, Conciergerie (where Marie-Antoinette was imprisoned), the Arc de Triomphe and Le Louvre.  The trip through Le Louvre was speedy and just enough time to see the ever popular original Mona Lisa along with the Venus de Milo and the sassy looking Athena.  One day, I will be back to spend proper time wandering about this museum.

The unexpected awww of the trip for me was our visit to Sainte-Chappelle.  Upon first glance at the outside of this chapel, I wondered what made people stand in line waiting to see this place.  It was pretty but seemed to be nothing special.  A step inside and up a few stairs, my jaw dropped immediately.  A story told from left to right through intricate stained glass windows.

The rest of the trip was just a cherry on top of this moment.  The walk back to our short term “home” that included wine and snacks at another quaint cafe, a bottle of wine on the lawn of the Eiffel Tower where we met a random group of new friends and a trip to see the one and only Moulin Rouge.  I might suggest if you are in Paris, you don’t wait until midnight to take the metro into said area.  Hilarious though as we strolled along with sidewalks watching out for the famous windmill, amidst the crêpe makers catcalling and the erotic stores in every other building.  

Day three was a short one so we used our time wisely.  A stroll along the Paris streets, a visit to Notre Dame - this time inside to join in on part of a mass then on to crêpes for breakfast.  

If only this was how our trip ended.  Instead, much like it began, we spent way too much time in the airport.  Our flight delayed to Cork by five hours led to drinking wine and eating snacks on the carpet.  The important part was we survived with a lifetime of stories from our very first trip to Paris.  Never a dull moment with the three of us and the story shall continue in the next segment as Amanda & Christy join me in Cork then on to Dublin.

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Becoming a Schull regular

After my first trip through West Cork, I knew it wouldn’t be my last.  Not just as part of instinct, we actually booked a second trip to Schull as we were leaving town.  How could we miss the annual sail boat races in this tiny coastal town?

Fast forward to the holiday weekend in August (Irish bank holiday that is) and off we go to Schull.  This small town was bustling with visitors and locals alike, all dressed head to toe in Helly Hansen gear.  Our first stop, back to L'escale for some of the tastiest fish & chips served by a french family living locally.  Even better than the main course is dessert.  The crêpes are to die for!  I have been ruined for other crêpe options in Ireland.

Since the races weren’t set to begin until mid-afternoon, we took advantage of the morning and to a jaunt over to Mizen Head.  The trip did not disappoint...breathtaking views, history and laughs.  The tip of the peninsula is almost an island itself, connected by the bridge that leads to the old signal station, a weather station, and a lighthouse.  As we made our way across the bridge, up to the looking point and back down towards the shore we took the opportunity for a million pictures and fit in a little random exercise swinging on the railings.  

As our Mizen Head viewing ended, it was time to head back to Schull for the boat races.  I have to say though, the boat races were a bit of a disappointment.  I was expecting excitement, crowds and 100 boats in the harbor.  With that behind us, we thought it was important we follow the post-race “tradition” of making our way to each pub in town, starting with the one closest to our hotel.  This “tradition” was that you had a pint (or other beverage) in each pub until you make your way back to the hotel.  Now, I’m not one to miss out on a tradition so of course, I had to participate :)  Not only did we participate, we succeeded and survived.  

One last view before going back to Cork, we stopped off in Baltimore.  Based on the scenery, I’d say I better go back when I can spend more time and maybe go out on the water.   

Thanks to Ainhoa & Nicola for bringing me back to Schull/West Cork.  Now, on to more Adventures in Gingerland.

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Mizen Head - an Ireland must!