First off...classes. I've been to a full, real week of class now. Decided that Italian was a waste of time and brain power. Dropped it in favor of a history class taught by an awesomely cool Irish guy named Cormac. It's Geography of the Middle Ages, and two hours in that class felt like two hours watching the history channel. Absolutely loved it. So I went straight to the international office and changed my registration, and I'm totally excited about it. The other good news...is that my school week doesn't start until 3 on Monday, and it's over by 12 on Thursday. I also never have class before 11. I think about taking stats at the U of I at 7:30 in the morning and I just smile. The Irish like to sleep in, and I think it's brilliant.
Second thing...adjusting to life in Cork. I spent my first full weekend outside of Cork, and was actually starting to miss it by the time I got home. Home as in Leeside Apartments home...which is weird to say. I really like it here though, I like living in the city, even though I'm dying for the sight of grass and trees now and then. Cork is definitely less of a touristy spot and more of a business/ industrial center. But I think I like that, it makes me feel less like a tourist and more like I live here. Life's different here, people are in less of a hurry for sure, but I like it. I love that you walk to the grocery store (and bring your own bags! gosh don't forget that! 25 cents for a plastic bag? ridiculous!) I like sitting in my window and seeing all kinds of traffic. And the traffic doesn't even look so wrong anymore. Now I think it might be weird to see a car on the right side of the road. But the weirdest adjustment by far...every time I say the word sorry it comes out in an Irish accent. And I said cheers to the lady in the bookstore last week. It just slipped. Now that's weird. I must be starting to stick out a little less...the Irish kid sitting next to me in Government asked where I was from. He looked at me funny when I said Iowa, and then went "Oh gosh! You're American! Couldn't tell at first." I guess that's a good sign?
Now...about that weekend away from Cork.
Killarney is about an hour and a half train ride from us, so we got up insanely early (by Irish standards, by US standards we just didn't sleep in like bums) and made the 25 minute hike to the train station in the dark (it's not really light out here until 9ish). Got off said train, and realized we had a name but no address for our hostel. I swear hostel was not on my to-do list. I was train tickets and schedule. So, we wandered through Killarney, found some nice shop owner who pointed out the Neptune Hostel. Marvelled for a bit at our wonderful 5 star accommodations. (That was totally sarcastic - if you didn't catch that. We paid 16 euro for the night, for that much, I'm shocked we had hot water.) So our little group packed it into one tiny little room with tiny little bunk beds, thank goodness we were just sleeping there. It felt a little like summer camp, or 6th grade having a sleep over with all of my friends. The lady working the front desk was kind enough to direct us to Ross Castle and the Muckross Abbey and Muckross House. There was also a waterfall in there somewhere. So, hiking we went through Killarney National Park. ::Singing to the tune of the Wizard of Oz:: We're off to see the castle...
Now we are all about the castles, let me tell you. ALL about the castles. Through hell or high water we wanted to see that castle. I'm not joking about the high water.
We're trekking it down a lovely wooded path that seems to match the description the lady at the hostel gave us, and we come across a bright orange sign that says ROAD FLOODED. Now, normal people would turn around, but not us, we're all about those castles. We go a little further and discover the road to be, in fact, flooded. Just as the sign predicted. Funny, they didn't just waste money on a random sign. Two young men are headed our way on the path, so we ask if they've been the Ross Castle. They said yup, couple hundred meters that way. We asked if the water was deep, they said not too bad, up to your shins maybe. We asked if it was worth it, they said yes. We declared it to be a D.I.F.T.S. moment. Do it for the story. So, off came the hiking boots, rolled up the jeans, and into the water we went. I don't want to hear any cracks about the intelligence of this particular decision. A few hundred meters later, we realized something very important.
The Swiss lie.
About half a mile later (that's close to a couple hundred meters right?) we emerged onto dry land, to find a castle that looked a whole lot like the last one we saw, except this one was closed for the winter. Somewhere, a couple Swiss guys are sitting in a pub, drinking a beer, and laughing at the dumb Americans who trekked half a mile through knee deep water to see a closed tourist attraction.
One of our happy travelers took one look at the place and immediately declared "F*ck you castle!"
So, at this point, we're soaked, towel less, bathroom less (due to the castle being closed for the season) and not sure what else to do. So we continue our journey, hiking about 5 more miles to Muckross Abbey. In case anyone is planning a trip to Ireland soon, Muckross Abbey is under renovation at the moment, they're trying to preserve it. At this point we were considering having a drink at every pub we came across on the way back to the hostel. But we realized how expensive that was going to be, and how long of a walk we'd be in for on top of that. So we made it another mile or two (?) to Muckross house, which apparently shows up in some Nicole Kidman movie, but is also closed for the season. At least we were able to sit down, use a phone (yup, no cell phone reception in the middle of nowhere), and call a cab. For 2 euro each a very nice taxi driver brought us back into town, but only after taking one look at us and going "What on earth are ye doing on holiday out here this time of year? Place will be packed in the summer, but not now, never stops raining!" We noticed.
He directed us to a pub/restaurant close to our hostel. We had our first warm meal in quite awhile (we're study abroad students, we live on cereal and peanut butter sandwiches). We sat around and watched the rugby game (I think I'm starting to become a fan, it's fun to watch!) and made it back to our hostel slightly dryer, and in much better moods.
Day two was the Ring of Kerry tour. It was kind of like a 6 hour roller coaster ride, I think I might have gotten whiplash. But we saw some pretty scenery, the ocean, and got rained on some more. We had our second warm meal in two days, which is a record for us. And marvelled at how pretty the water is when you're not hiking through it. We saw the waterfall we missed yesterday, however, as Liam put it "Waterfall?! I've seen water fall all freakin' day!". When we were done our tour guide dropped us off at the mall next to the train station. We sat, had coffee, shopped, and made it to our train on time (some of us might have arrived at 8:49 to catch an 8:50 train on the way to Killarney). We had a delayed but otherwise uneventful trip home, and we're all now marveling at how nice our beds look, and how great a hot shower is going to be.
Really though, despite how bitter and sarcastic this blog may sound, it was one of the best weekends I've had in a long time. I'm not sure I've ever laughed so hard, and hey, we're studying abroad for the experience right?
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