Dublin, and Guinness, and trains, oh my!

No, I didn't almost miss my train! I'm just pretending. I nearly did...

I'm headed to Cork! Cork is situated on a river several kilometers from the Irish Sea. From what I've read, the town seems like an artsy town with many food markets (perfect for my budget). 

So much to tell! My stay in Dublin was full of exploring, hundreds of pictures, loud and drunk people, and a little bit of history. After I checked into my hotel, I crashed for three hours. My hotel room looked over a small alley. Out of the many back doors to the alley, one of them led to a small Chinese family residence. Several times, the distant laughter of kids echoed the alley walls while they played tag. Some may smile to this sight and sound but when you are trying to catch up on jet lag, the laughter sounds like banshees complaining about the knife wedged in their thigh. At last, I fell asleep.

I remember having my first Guinness in Chicago with my cousin about five years ago. Since then, I've loved the drink because of the flavor but rarely drank it because of the small "bite" ya get. Maybe it's just me. Anyway, last night, I wondered into a really nice pub. There was live music in a small corner and fortunately there was a screen broadcasting the performance because the corner was already crowded with people. At this pub, I had the real Guinness experience. The pint went down so smoothly and left a buzzed feeling where two of those in America wouldn't even come close to the essence because over here, the beer is so fresh.

The girl in the picture is Rose. Rose is from a small town 30 minutes from Barcelona, Spain. I met Rose just outside of St. Patrick's Cathedral. We both decided against dropping $9 to tour the building. So we sat and enjoyed the outside edifice while chatting about our travels. Rose had just finished up an 8-week volunteering adventure with the organization called, "WWOOF" (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms). It's a chance to learn about organic farming. Volunteers work on organic farms (pretty much) anywhere around the world. In exchange for the work they do, volunteers receive food and accommodations and knowledge about organic farming. I'm so happy that I met Rose. This would be a fantastic thing to do in the future and an excellent way to experience other cultures. 

8:00a

My flight arrived in Dublin just before 5:00a. After I had my little internal celebratory moment of, "I'm f***ing in Ireland!!!" I climbed down from the high of finally visiting a different country and anxiously waited for the Irish security to let me the hell into their country... Within minutes, Mike (my flight buddy) and I made our way safely through security and to the city centre. I must mention, though... The security guard asked me, "Do you have any friends in Ireland?" I said no and he responded, "No worries, you'll make a few," and smiled. Flippin' awesome guy. Cannot wait to make these friends he spoke of.

Mike was a fantastic human to sit next to during the flight. We talked about work, school, our families, and other small talk which grew into fun, sarcastic remarks about Irish security. Mike has dual citizenship and mentioned having visited Ireland several times within the past several years. Chatting with him was refreshing and made the flight a quick ride. He also paid for the cab! Thanks, Mike!

8:00a... After Mike left for his hotel, I wondered over to mine, mouth hanging open and gawking at the majestic architecture. On the way, I noticed that most of the food businesses open at 8:00a. In Chicago and New York City, most of those places open before the ass crack of dawn . When I arrived at the hotel to drop my luggage off, the desk clerk said that places open at 8:00a so people have enough time to recover from their hangovers before going to work. Sometimes I think that Americans wake up way too early. As I hiked around Dublin (the brick streets can be brutal) between 5 and 6 in the morning, I saw many people stumbling around as if the whole city were still chugging down pint after pint. Love it. 

The hotel I'm staying at has such generous and kind employees. Check-in is at 2:00p but the clerk and one of the kitchen staff invited me to relax in the lounge and join everyone for breakfast at 8! After breakfast, I think that a stroll to visit the home of Oscar Wilde is in order. 

View from my seat just before landing

O'Connell Street

Mike!

Castle Hotel

2 more days!

I better not forget this lovely little book. 

I really want to see a dragon when I go to Scotland.

Oh, the things I'll do!

Here's the thing: visions of the places I get to explore keep passing through my head and I suddenly want them all.

I want to find field and walk around pretending I'm traveling through the Shire.
I want to sit at a dark wooden table and enjoy an Irish band playing in the corner of the room.
I want to glue my face to the scenery as I ride the train northbound to Scotland.
I want to introduce myself to a dozen locals. Per day!
I want to sit on a bank with my feet dangling in the river like Mr. Toad of Toad Hall while eating a sandwich.
I want to look up in the English sky and squint hard enough to see a dragon.
I want to sit in bed and think, "Hell yeah, I'm frickin' in Ireland."
I want to make a friend for the day and explore Chinatown in London with them.
I want my nose and taste buds to experience real coffee.
I want to make a hilarious face at the Queen's Guards and watch them do nothing.
I want to walk by where Shakespeare produced his plays.
I want to see thousands of picture-worthy moments.

And I want this trip to one day be a great bedtime story for my kids.

Additionally, I want to safely come back home.

Brave

Just thought I'd share this song by Sara Bareilles:

Fantastic message. Did you know that she wrote this song to help her friend come out? Spending a month in Europe comes with a tiny bit of fear... This song eliminates that feeling! Thanks, Sara! I wanna learn the dance, too...

11 days and still planning...

...and that's OK! Fellow solo travelers, I must ask: Isn't it a blast planning your itinerary without the involvement of another individual a blast? It is for me. I'm thrilled to be traveling by myself. Oh, the places I'll see, the people I'll meet, and the alcohol I'll drink. The main idea behind this trip to Europe is to experience new people and to gain more knowledge. Another idea is to hopefully give back to the world a piece of my own soul through conversation, a nice gesture, a smile, paying for someone's beer, traveling with a fellow traveling stranger, placing my hand on someone's if they're crying, and many more. The possibilities are endless. Come with me through this blog!

Current love affairs: Rhoda from The Mary Tyler-Moore Show, Liverpool, Skype, old blog posts, campfires, my family, identity, Calvin Klein underwear, the Isle of Man, new car smell, white glasses, "Skinny Love," and conquering old memories. 

Oh, the places you'll work!

Many times over conversations with people, I'll start a story with something like, "I used to work at this_____." Usually within a month and half a dozen similar situations, they say, "Jeeze, you've worked everywhere!" It's been a while since I sat down and attempted to compile list of places I've worked at since the ripe age of 11. This may scream child labor. Some I'll give descriptions. Let's begin.

1. Furniture Grunt Farmer--3 houses down from our house. I was 11 tears old, visiting the neighbors and their upholstery shop when the wife asked my sister and I to stay for an hour or two to assist with removing fabric from a couch. She offered money. We both looked at each other and said, "Sure!" We apparently had nothing better to do. No schoolwork, no chores, no babysitting, nothing. Apparently. So began my first real job--taking apart furniture, harvesting and grading eggs, stamping egg cartons, and babysitting the neighbor boy on an average of 25-30 hours per week ALL while trying to keep up with school, church chit, (some) sports, home chores, home projects, babysitting siblings, and participating in daily hour-long (sometimes more) home Bible studies. Some positives about these experiences: every time I look at furniture I immediately formulate a plan and connive the best way to take it apart. This went on until job # 2. Finally, a little more freedom.

2. Greasy Cashier--My older sister paved the way for this fast-food failure once she left for college. I started working after I got my license until shortly before I graduated HS. This job was my first real exposure to the secular world. God, was I a naive, happy-go-lucky little Christain boy hoping to change one per day life for Christ. I didn't make many deep friendships here. I was too innocent and preachy in the "nice" way. I always nicely asked people to stop swearing around me and encouraged people to stop smoking because it could lead to sin. God, why!?!? I was so oblivious to being real with people. Never did I hang out outside of work with anyone there. My regret. Truly.

3. Real-Estate Gopher/House-Sitter--This job was supposed to be inside working on website design, answering phones, and filing papers. But it turned out to be the assistant to the owner's wife. She had me do EVERYTHING--file papers, upload website real estate pictures, vacuum offices, wash windows, mow the company's massive lawn, haul trash, distribute brochures, run grocery, bank, and gas errands, babysit her twin boys, clean her house, housesit, and feed the dogs. Again, I was so naive but this time to the opportunity I had in front of me. I hated most of what the job but I do believe it instilled a busy and strong work ethic. Same with the chicken chit furniture job. Work ethic. Can't buy it. I learned how to work hard at a young age. However, I really did miss out on some key education in HS and friendships. I was pressured to make money--everything that my friends did, I couldn't do unless the funding came out of my pocket. This typically starts late in HS, but for me, it started when I was 11 years old.

4. In-Between Jobs--My mom always recruited work for her kids--home chores/projects (renovating the basement with dad, building the garage, getting firewood, painting, etc...) or paying jobs. We usually did both to survive--home chores/projects because we had to earn our keep and paying jobs to get away from home to be with people other than family. It sucks that I had to pay to hang out with friends. The in-between jobs I had were raking, mowing lawns, baling hay, dog-sitting, babysitting, and many more countless wrecks. One time I volunteered at Habitat for Humanity--but not building houses. No, I made pointless phone calls to pissed-off church pastors creating awareness for the Habitat organization. I hated making those calls--I believe that has instilled a fear of phone sales in me.

5. Golf Course Clerk (summer position)

Post-HS/Undergraduate years:
6. College Work Study (2 school years)
7. Math/Writing Tutor (2 school years)

Mackinac Island Summer Gigs:
8. Carriage Tour Driver (2009)
9. Moonlight Hotel Pianist (2009-10)
10. Bike Shop Renter (2009-10)
11. Fudge Shop Cashier (2009-10)
12. Sailboat Deckhand (2010)

Grand Rapids:
13. Macy's Associate (2 months)
14. Family Video Associate (4 months)
15. Bridal Show Sales Position (terrible 1 month... it was really a scam for future couples :[ )
16. Dog Daycare Handler (3 months until they randomly stopped scheduling their workers)
17. Server/Bartender/Assistant Bouncer (7 months)
18. Bridal Boutique Intern (3 months)

Chicago/NYC:
19. Unofficial Merchandise Mart Intern for Ebel Inc. (6 months)
20. Model (one-time gig)
21. Showroom Assistant/Visual Merchandiser--India Handicrafts Inc. (seasonal in Chicago and NYC)

Home:
22. Substitute Teacher (8 months)
23. Institutional Advancement Intern (9 months)

I'm sure this list will continue to grow. I constantly yearn for growth. Hopefully the teaching assistantship will be a grand experience.

Thanks for reading!

Current love affairs: NYC, France, dusting, Oberhofer, neurology, cells, twitter, instagram, photography, Harbor Springs, cheese, The London Candy Company, and memories.