Thursday, April 10, 2014

My first* trip to The Land of Erie

[*this word is essential because it shows that I WILL return for another round(s) of Ireland someday...]

If I could sum up my experience in Ireland in 3 words, it would be: "cannot be done". To use only 3 words?? It cannot be done. In fact, I don't know if 100 or 1,000 or 10,000 words could fully describe the beauty, culture, kindness, and laughter I experienced in Ireland, the land of (most of) my ancestors. But, for the sake of looking back at this post years from now, and for the sake of giving you a glimpse of this magical place, I shall attempt to "sum it up":

With 6 midterms completed in 4 days, I was ready for my 5-day Winter Break travels through Ireland. I packed up my ONE (1) backpack with a couple outfits to cycle through for the trip (which was an accomplishment in itself since I'm a chronic over-packer), and on Friday morning +Mary Distler and I grabbed the metro to head to the airport. We didn't even have to wait for Ireland for the fun to start! Upon arriving at the airport, we hurried over to the Aer Lingus check-in desk. The Spaniard working the desk checked my passport and quickly asked me something. I didn't catch it, so I said "Mande?", which is the polite way to say "What?" or "Pardon?" Well, apparently it's only used in Mexican-Spanish, because when I said it, the man stared at me for a second and then burst out in laughter. "'Mande'?! Jajajaja! Ay Americana...." He even turned to his fellow employee at the neighboring desk and told him about it so that they could both get a good chuckle out of it. I was slightly embarrassed and a bit taken aback that they would laugh so hard at an innocent Americana trying to speak the language, but whatever. I hope I made your day interesting, Spanish-travel-agent-man....

DAY 1: (County Clare) Friday
In the middle of the flight, as we were getting closer and closer to Ireland, I felt a strong tug on my heart. It's kind of hard to explain: it felt as if there was a string attached to my heart, and now that I was finally close enough to the country, many of my ancestors from long ago were able to reach up and begin to pull me closer to the land. Of course I was excited to count down to this trip. But there was a yearning deep inside that became a concrete, present feeling only as I was 35,000+ feet above the English Channel.
As soon as we landed in Dublin, +Hannah Kilroy , +Mary Distler , and +Caroline Frame and I caught a bus toward Limerick to get to County Clare, the area in which some of Hannah's family lived. Being the Irish brogue-deprived tourists that we were, we were so excited to hear anyone say anything, so I struck up a conversation with the 2 Irish lads sitting next to us on the bus. (I never learned what their names were, but I suspect they were Sean and Patrick.)
 In Spain, it's normal to greet new people with a small hug and a kiss on each cheek, so I tried asking the gents what a normal greeting is when you meet new people in Ireland.
"Oh goodness, that's interesting... I mean, there's a lot of ways.. A simple 'hello' or 'how are ya?' can be used..." Sean clearly didn't understand what I meant, so I clarified. "No, I'm sorry, I meant as in a handshake? A hug? We're American students studying abroad in Madrid, Spain right now, and in Spain they do a kiss on each cheek, so we were wondering what it's like here."
"Ohh, well a hug or something would work. I mean, if I were to meet the mayor or something, I'd probably give him a good handshake... I guess it just depends," Sean answered.
"Yeah, I don't think I'd get far in a club without being slapped if I tried the kiss-on-the-cheek deal," chimed in Patrick. Good to know, bro....
We continued with some small talk on and off throughout the ride, talking about traveling; the weather, and how it could be "sunshine here and pissin' rain a couple kilometers away"; the low-employment present in the country, and so on. As Sean and Patrick got up to get off at their stop, they wished us a fun trip and told us that our stop was the next one, and we thanked them for their help and conversation.

We realized that the ride to our stop was taking longer than Sean and Patrick had said it would, so Hannah walked to the front of the bus to ask the driver if it was coming up. "Ahh, yes, we've passed that one," he told her. Apparently you have to get up or tell the driver to stop at certain stops. "But I could just drop ya off at this stop," he offered. So we got off at a random bus stop and waited for Hannah's aunt, who, luckily, was following behind us and knew we had missed our stop.

Her Aunt Siobhan arrived shortly after with our friend +Maria Bednar, who is studying abroad in Galway and also spent the weekend with us. A man walking by ended up being Eoin (pronouned like "Owen"), a friend of Siobhan's, so she introduced us to him. He greeted us cheerily and passed out his business cards to us: he started an online company that basically shows you a virtual tour of touristy places beforehand so you know what you're getting. We saw him a couple other times that weekend, and he was just as jolly and happy to see us as the first time.

Anyways, Siobhan was BEYOND gracious and kind to us throughout the whole weekend; she very willing volunteered opened up her house to us 5 girls for our Friday-Sunday stay. She made us breakfast each morning and drove us everywhere in her car; she was incredibly selfless and made sure that we had an easy and fun trip. I am always so grateful to have the opportunity to get to know such gracious and generous people in my life. People like Siobhan (and many of the hospitable Irish folk we met) act as a wonderful role model of how I want to spend and share my time and resources for others. And speaking of sharing my time with others....

After taking a short hike nearby and eating a chicken & curry dinner (I know, not exactly Irish, but nonetheless DELICIOUS!), the 5 of us, Siobhan, and 2 of her children, Ciara (12) and Sean (10), all hopped into their car and headed over to a traditional Irish "mourning luncheon"... at 9pm*. I don't know how else to describe it besides that; however, it seemed anything but a time of mourning. As people began to pour in, we were greeted by many a friendly face, smile, and/or conversation by the locals. Our only jobs were to pour coffee or tea for those who wanted it, but it was one of the most fun yet simplest activities I enjoyed over there! A kind, lil' ol' lady approached me and said "I don't recognize your face, my dear. Are you local?" When I smiled and said no, she replied "Oh, who are you?" Anytime I introduced myself and said I was from Chicago the reply was "Ah, 'The Windy City'!" One man was convinced I was from the suburb Elmhurst (it must have been the only one he'd head about) and kept repeating it.
(*A well-known boy in their town had recently passed away. Traditionally there is the initial funeral, mourning a month after the death and then mourning a year after the death)

The man who was mostly in-charge of the volunteers was quite the jokester: he yelled at me for not "selling" enough FREE tea at my end of the table, he complained that I wasn't working hard enough, etc. Clean-up was hectic (as the festivity was still full and occurring) but still fun, and afterwards we were allowed to eat and drink whatever was left. It came to my mind that some Irish tea (black tea, milk, sugar) with a touch of Bailey's Irish cream would taste nicely, so I tried it and was not disappointed :)

A little while after, Caroline and I followed some of the little kids upstairs to a small "gym" room. Hannah's cousins Sean and Ciara and their friends performed various silly skits for us, and one of Ciara's friends did some fantastic Irish dancing! Sean's 9-year-old friend named John was hilarious: he's one of those kids that says the most random things and nonchalantly makes things up on the spot. When asked to write his name on the frost on the window, he wrote "Liam" and then "Lady Gaga".... We asked what games they liked to play for fun and he shouted "Cross-hatch!" When asked what it was, he said "I don't know." (Turns out it doesn't exist. At all. Except as a design pattern for sketching.) Caroline and I told him our names were "Brenda" and "Penelope", which turned into "Penelope Pop Corn", and he pretended to write a story about us.
It was an incredibly fun time that I'm sure none of us were expecting!

We left later on, and after Siobhan dropped Sean and Ciara off at their house, she took us out to a quiet pub in town, where we mostly just took the time to relax from our busy day of travels and serving tea.

DAY 2: (County Clare) Saturday
On Saturday morning, we woke up to a hearty, traditional Irish breakfast: ham, bacon, sausage links, black and white pudding, with bread, cereal, tea/coffee "on the side". After breakfast we headed to Bunratty Castle, which has been destroyed and rebuilt throughout the early 1300's. It was originally built by a Norman man, taken over and destroyed by the Irish, rebuilt for the King of England, destroyed again by the Irish, rebuilt and then taken over for good by the Irish in the 1350's. Sean came with us, and as we meandered through the gift shop to get into the old castle grounds, he decided he needed a new tin whistle and bought one. (He spent most of the remaining car rides practicing, which was quite entertaining for us but not so much for his mother.) We entered the grounds and began to walk towards the castle. Part of the exhibit was a small "neighborhood" of old-fashion fishermen homes, which were extremely small. How on earth did the Irish fit such large families in these tiny homes?! I kept thinking. Nonetheless, they were very cozy and precious to tour through.













There was even a cute little blue house made especially to match my blue coat and blue purse!

When we started to walk through the actual castle, we met a guide who told us all about the castle, and how it was built and destroyed and rebuilt; taken over by vikings, kings, noblemen, etc.; had tapestries that were "older than our country!" (a description used for many things on this trip); had 4 towers, each with clockwise-winding stairs (so that the right-handed defenders running down the stairs could more easily fight with their sword than the right-handed attackers); and so on. This history was very interesting to learn about at the time; however, I do not have the type of brain that remembers the history of things very well, and thus, that is all I remember. Thankfully I took many pictures to make up for it!

Bunratty Castle
Sean hanging out on one of the cannons.


The castle was filled with dining rooms, a huge banquet hall, servant rooms, the king's chambers, the earl's kitchen, a dungeon & such.

We spent the next 45 minutes or so exploring throughout the castle. We also took some of the tiny winding stairs up to the top of the towers where we could see far out into the green land of Ireland.

                                   


 Showing my Irish pride with the flag right here!
 <<
We took a sneaky selfie with Sean when he wasn't looking!
  After goofing around in the castle some more, we walked through the rest of the "grounds" and saw some more houses, a woman making homemade Irish soda bread, and a small "folk town" that included things like an old book shop, a barber´s, a photography business, and some boutiques. We passed through this on our way to look at the town´s old small church. Along the way, we also passed by some goats in a fenced-in field. Sean was so excited to see the goats, so he tried to call one over. He fed some berries to a very friendly and affectionate goat (that he later named "Barry" for his love of berries), and we all took turns petting him and feeling his smooth and (surprisingly warm!) horns. We bid adieu to Barry and continued onto the church.
Sean feeding berries to "Barry"
Me & the lil' ol' church!


BARRY!!
























Next stop was the mighty Cliffs of Moher (pronounced like "Moore", don´t say "Mo-hair" because you 1) sound very ignorant, and 2) make me very upset). The car ride was filled with sudden, jerky stick-shift movements through the winding hills (which almost made me sick), and it was also filled with the wonderful tin whistle tunes and anecdotes of Sean. Upon arriving at the Cliffs, nature and beauty engulfed us. Although it was misty and raining on & off, the beauty of it all still struck me to the core: how is it that people can live without seeing things like this?! It is true that "a picture speaks a thousand words", but I don´t think that´s enough words. I don´t think words or a picture will ever be enough to describe natural beauties things such as this; you need to come out and experience it for yourself. I don´t expect these pictures to be able to reveal nearly half the majestic and mighty character of the Cliffs, and I don´t expect my words to be able to fully describe my implicit joy during this experience; however, I still want to share with you some of the memories and beauty of it all!





Buenas amigas :)

That one time when I almost fell off
the Cliffs of Moher....



We spent about an hour and a half or so here and then headed out for a late lunch/early dinner. Despite the displeasure I usually experience in eating fish/seafood, I made myself order a plate of "Fish ´n Chips". I couldn't be in Ireland for 5 days and NOT eat their classic "Fish ´n Chips"! The 8-inch fried cod and heap of fries came out, and my hunger took over. Surprisingly, it didn´t taste very fishy at all, and I finished the whole plate! WOO! Erin:1, Fish:0. After dinner, we sat back and relaxed a little bit. Caroline and I ordered some Bailey´s (of course), while Mary, Hannah, and Maria ordered some Bullmer´s (apple wine) and hot port (a nicely heated, sweet red wine). Sean was feeling a little left-out, so he came with us to the bar to help us order our drinks. He also decided he wanted some dessert, so his mother told him to walk around and see if he saw anything he liked. As he would walk by a table, he would try to slyly look at other people´s food and turn away quickly when they noticed him staring. It was quite a funny show.
Soon afterwards, a small band of musicians began to "practice". Apparently a lot of the local bands use opportunities like this to practice with each other, although it sounded like an actual performance to outsiders like us! They were a hodgepodge of accordion players, banjo players, drum, guitar, flute, and clarinet players: it was incredible! When a song finished, everyone took a little break to re-tune or sip their pint, and then they resumed by just playing a couple chords and jumping into another song. We stayed for a couple songs and then headed home to drop Sean off before we headed back out for a play put on by 4 locals in a traveling acting group.


[[Before I get to that experience, I MUST explain the car ride that occurred. To most people, it will seem insignificant or won´t seem funny, but it is something that I must write down so as not to forget it!:
Sean began this rant on how he doesn't like watching movies with his sister Ciara because all she watches is musicals, and love stories, and so on. His least favorite was "Mamma Mia".
"The worst is when they're getting married and walking down the isle, it's so BORING. It'd be a lot better if someone started singing "No Diggity" as they walked down the isle..." At that we all burst out laughing, it was so random and sounded so funny coming out of his 10-year-old brogue. this, of course, only fed Sean's confidence and imagination. We then moved onto the song "Our Last Summer" from Mamma Mia, where there's a line that says "A family man, a football fan/ And your name is Harry". Sean had different thoughts: "That scene would be so much better with BARRY in it! We could say.... 'A football-playing goat/ And your name is Barryyy...'! Oh man, I can just picture Barry in a jersey, runnin' down the field!..." I absolutely LOST IT. How the heck did he come up with this stuff??! He built upon that story even more, always relating Barry to the song lyrics. Barry went from being a football player to a  dancing flower, to a banker ("I can just picture Barry as a banker, wearing a nice suit, pushing money forward with his little hoof..."), to a business man. He asked where we were staying in Dublin, so we told him the name of the hostel and he said "Oh, I know that, Barry owns it. He owns all of the hostels there. I'll talk to him, get ya a discount..." It was a solid 30 minutes of side-splitting laughs and crazy, non-sensible made-up stories about this goat named "Barry" that we had passed by earlier that day. What a car ride....]]

The play that we saw was called "UNforgiven", here's the synopsis listed in the program:
"A real circus of a play, Unforgiven is a laugh a minute exposition of Irish rural life where nothing is ever as it seems to be. P.J. awaits the death of his father so that he can inherit the farm and marry his neighbor Mary andlive happily ever after. His brother Seamie (AKA One Word) holds a watching brief while Mary is blissfully unaware of P.J's plans for her. When the father ultimately dies another brother arrives home from America and a colony of cats land among the pigeons in this hilarious play."
It took place in a large old barn, with massive space heaters on the walls, and the audience consisted of close to 150 locals (& us) sitting in padded folding chairs. The first actor appeared on the stage to start his monologue, and I swear he was speaking a different language. Honestly, it probably took me 4 or 5 minutes to catch on to his thick, rural Irish brogue and finally understand what he was saying. Overall though, the play was great & very funny! The "American" brother did a phenomenal job with his accent and mannerisms, and the entire play was full of both Irish and American stereotypes that were pretty accurate and very funny. Some of the American stereotypes were the brother responding "Yea" to a lot of things; saying "No way José!" as if it were a very commonly used expression; talking about the bigness and greatness of the U.S.

After the play ended, Siobhan took us to a pub down the road. We got many looks and stares as we walked in because the locals all knew each other, so obviously we were "outsiders". We stood at a table in the back and ordered some drinks. A group of 3 very drunk Irish guys (probably in their mid-20's) kept coming over to talk to us, and it was one of the funniest experiences we had in a bar. First, there was a dude singing and playing guitar, so it was already very loud and hard to hear people talk. Second of all, the Irish brogue is a lot thicker in the more rural areas of the country (a.k.a. not Dublin). Third of all, they were quite drunk, and thus slurred their words a lot while they were talking. So it made for a fun exchange of words. One of the guys, John, was holding two drinks, one in each hand, with a shot glass in each drink. I asked him why he had two drinks at once, to which he replied "Oh, I'm just tryin' to slow down." Typical Irishman :) I laughed pretty hard at that one. It soon became a little odd and uncomfortable with them, so we decided to leave, and Siobhan took us to another pub, the one where all the play actors and other locals were hanging out. It turned out to be a much better decision because it wasn't as crowded and we got to meet some of the actors!! We complimented the "American" brother on his superb accent, and we had a great talk with "Mary" (real name Ruth) about Irishmen. Turns out Ruth is the wife of Eion, the man we met the day before! She was so happy and impressed that we were studying abroad and that we got an opportunity to see the real, true, country-side part of Ireland. We all had some good laughs together, and she gave us some good life advice. We finished our drinks, said goodbye, and headed home for the night.

DAY 3: (County Clare/Galway/Dublin) Sunday

Some slight flooding in the picnic areas....
We attended morning mass (which took all of about 30 minutes) with Siobhan and her family at their parish and then headed toward Galway. She was kind enough to drive Caroline, Mary, and I there on their way to County Mayo to meet some family. We stopped briefly to take a quick stroll through Coole Park. It was  mostly filled with walking paths, small fields, picnic tables, and gazebos to hang out in; however, a lot of the tables were flooded from all the rain (typical Ireland). This park also contains the "Autograph Tree", which contains the autographs of many of the leaders from the Irish Literary Revival, including George Bernard Shaw & Sean O'Casey.
















It's hard to see it in the picture, but the autographs and such are actually engraved into the wood of the tree trunk.



We hopped back in the car and made the final stretch to Galway. I sat in the back seat with Ciara and Sean, and after we passed the inevitable stage of "brother-sister-fighting", we were all talking and laughing and making jokes. We were on the topic of birthday dinners, and I asked Sean what he likes for his birthday dinner and he said "Oh! I like this and that and this... I also really like steak! It's really.... venemous?... No wait, not that..... Tender! That's what I meant!" (Again, tears coming from my eyes.)


We had to say goodbye to Siobhan, Sean, and Ciara as they continued on their way up to County Mayo with Hannah and Maria. It was an interesting goodbye, consisting of the two little ones taking a million random pictures & selfies of us trying to say goodbye to them!
Once they left, we walked around a bit until we found a nice looking homey restaurant/pub for lunch. After filling ourselves with yummy burgers and Irish tea (I know, a strange combination, but nonetheless delicious!), we set out to explore Galway. We had no specific plan and site to visit, so we walked through Shop Street, Galway´s biggest, main street filled with shops (*duh*)!


Mary and I standing on the bridge in Galway.
Mary, Caroline, and I meandered throughout the shops for a while and eventually found ourselves by some coasts of Galway. If I had to pick one moment of complete peace and happiness on this trip, it was while we walked along the ocean in Galway, with the sun shining bright in the blue sky and the strong breeze flowing through the air. The coast and the air and the ocean and the people, the overall atmosphere: it was so fresh and pure and clean. I didn´t want to leave. We would walk a couple hundred feet and say to ourselves "Okay, we´ll turn around at that next huge rock.".... and we would walk right past it. "Okay, at THAT huge rock, we´ll turn around." Nope. "We´ll walk to the bridge and then head back to town." We crossed the bridge. We paused in the middle of it to try to take in the moment: the wind, the sunshine, the ocean spray, the fact that we were IN IRELAND!....It was all such a beautiful gift from God, so seemingly simple yet so powerful. We decided that if we didn't head back now, we might never leave (which was a constant joke between the 3 of us, asking the others "So, when is YOUR flight back to Madrid? I´m staying here..."), so we walked back into town and grabbed a leisurely drink at The King´s Head.








We took a bus from Galway to Dublin (about a 3-hour ride), and arrived at our hostel around 10pm. Upon entering our room, we discovered that 3 of the 8 beds were already occupied, but no one was in the room. By our last night, our room consisted of 4 American girls (us), a French woman, an Asian guy, a middle-eastern-looking guy (who was perpetually asleep or MIA), and an Irish man. Interesting enough, our strangest encounter occurred with the Irish man, but I´ll come back to that.


We grabbed a quick bite to eat at a little "fish-n-chips" place that was just about to close and hopped into the pub next to it called The Old Storehouse Bar & Restaurant. We could hear the live music from outside: "We are Young" by Fun., "Blurred Lines" by Robin Thicke, and other popular American songs. Naturally it was our first choice! And it was a VERY good choice at that.
The singer, Jake, was extremely talented at both singing and playing the guitar, and he just whipped out well-known American music, one song after another. The coolest thing was that the pub was FILLED with people from all over the world: Italy, Great Britain, Brazil, Germany, and they all knew & sang along to every song he played! It was such an incredible experience to be in a different country with international strangers singing songs that I hear on the radio every day!
We stayed here until Jake finished his act around 1am. By the time he got to his last 2 songs he played, "Country Roads" by John Denver and "Hey Jude" by the Beatles, everyone was on their feet, singing (or shouting) along, filling the bar and the streets with the melody of voices from around the world. Those songs will now and forever remind me of my adventures in Ireland :)

DAY 4: (Dublin) Monday

Monday morning consisted of some more "self-guided tours" around the city of Dublin, hopping in and out of souvenir shops, and walking through some of St. Stephen´s Green. We found a very small corner "Mexican" place called "Little Ass Burrito Bar" (their logo was a small donkey - so clever) and grabbed a bite to eat. You´re probably asking Why did you eat Mexican food when you were in Ireland?! Answer: because I´m a poor college student on a budget, that's why! (We treated ourselves to traditional Irish food for dinners but looked for the closest/cheapest options for lunch.) Later in the afternoon we caught a bus to take us to the Guinness Storehouse. We weren't sure if we were at the correct stop, and we must have clearly looked unsure because a kind old Irish man saw us and said "Where are ya trying to go?... Ah, the Guinness Storehouse! Why yes, it´s along this way. Take this bus. Where are ya from?...Ah, the Windy City!..." We got on the bus with the charming old man and waited for the correct stop. He must have known that we would have no idea when the stop was coming up because he pressed the "Stop" button for us in order to let the bus driver know to stop. We thanked the old man again for his kindness as we got off. As the bus was leaving, we turned back to wave goodbye to him and found him watching us, frantically waving his arm to the left to guide us in toward the Storehouse. What a great guy!

The Guinness Storehouse tour was a self-guided walk through the 5 floors & stages of the factory & brewing process. It was actually very interesting! The first floor consisted of different areas showing the 4 main, key ingredients: water, barley, hops, and yeast. The rest of the floors were filled with many different things: one had "exhibits" of talking pictures of previous workers and various other people behind the scenes of the Guinness company. Another had a bunch of old-fashioned machinery and t.v. screens explaining the part of the process that a certain machine was used for. Another part consisted of thousands of old beer barrels and videos showing all the work that went into just making the barrels! It was amazing!
Eventually we got to the 5th floor, where we learned how to properly taste Guinness (or any beer):
1) Take a deep breath and hold it.
2) Take a big sip of Guinness.
3) Allow it to sit in your mouth for a moment.
4) Swallow it & breathe out through your nose.
And all of that actually worked! I'm not much of a fan of Guinness in the first place (sadly), but I'll admit that I tasted much more flavor while doing this process.

After that lesson, we moved onto the next step: learning how to properly pour Guinness draft. A bubbly blonde Irish woman brought us over to a small bar and taught Hannah, Mary, Caroline, me, and a random couple how to pour the draft. Then we got to actually pour ourselves a big hearty pint of Guinness! (Unfortunately I do not have pictures of this because they are stored in my lost phone, but I DO have a certificate saying I did it!)
We brought our drinks up to the 7th floor of the building, where we saw a 360-view of the entire city of Dublin: Trinity College, Temple Bar, St. Patrick's Cathedral, the ocean and other well-known places. I regrettably admit that I did not (could not) finish my pint; I tried my hardest and finished about half of it, but I'm just not a beer person. Oh well :/

We finished up our beers and mingling and headed back to the hostel. The woman working the front desk gave us suggestions for dinner that night, so we decided to hit up O'Neill's Bar & Restaurant because she described it as "a little pricey, but you get a HUGE portion with a bunch of different sides". Hannah, Caroline, and I all ended up getting a turkey & ham Shepherd's pie. My sides included: mashed potatoes, baked potatoes (can you tell I'm Irish?), stuffing, steamed carrots, and parsnip. For a reference as to how big this was: we were all starving, Hannah and Caroline split theirs, and they were well satisfied. (I think I was slightly hungrier than they were because I finished my plate single-handedly - whoops.) As we were finishing up dinner, the live music for that night began to set up for their act. We waited around a bit and I'm so glad we did: these 2 guys played traditional, beautiful Irish music, with 1 guitar and 1 banjo. It was really quite beautiful. Some of the songs sounded very "folksy", as in you could get up and do a "do si do" and not look out of place. Others were slower, and could be equated to a slow, smooth country song. We stayed for about 4 or 5 songs and then decided to check out some other bars' music.

We probably ended up visiting 3 or 4 other bars, ranging from a 10 minute stay to a 30 minute stay. One bar had two musicians and a man & woman river dancing! AND the waitress there was handing out free burgers! (We couldn't really eat/finish them after our huge meal at O'Neill's, but free food is still pretty cool nonetheless!) One of the bars had just too many people in it, so we didn't stay long. Another one that we stumbled upon was FULL of other SLU students (it was a very popular weekend to go to Ireland), and the music gig for the night was Jake, the guy from The Old Storehouse the night before! We grabbed some seats at the bar and a couple drinks and listened to Jake perform some new songs and some old ones. A 60 or 70-year-old Irish gentleman took a particular liking to Caroline at the bar and started talking to her. Well, more like "scolding" her for various things: "Why are you on your phone so much?", "Why are you studying to be a nurse - don't you want to be a doctor?!" Hannah, Mary, and I couldn't help but giggle as we watched all this happen and tried to figure out a rescue plan. The man took a break to turn to his other side and talk to some other gentlemen, so we grabbed Caroline and headed to the other side of the bar. The man turned around just as we began to pass by him and called out after Caroline "Bye! Have a great night!" It was strange, but so funny at the same time, especially since: 1) Caroline wants to work in geriatrics, and 2) she had been looking for a nice Irish man to sweep her off her feet so that she wouldn't have to leave ;)...

Jake finished his set with "Hey Jude" again and we decided to head back to our hostel. The famous Temple Bar was literally right next to our hostel, and we would be remiss to not visit a Dublin landmark, so we quickly popped in there to hear the last couple of songs being played by another fantastic traditional Irish band. There were many.... "silly" Americans in this bar as well, and the band took a particular liking to them, so they honored their request and played "Galway Girl". The floor was packed, but a lot of fun dancing still commenced. At the end of that band's set, we returned to our hostel and finally called it a night... or so we thought...

As I said before, our room contained 8 beds, or 4 bunk beds. One bunk was filled with the sleeping middle-eastern guy and the asian guy; the bottom bunk of mine was occupied by the french woman; and the Irish man below Hannah was apparently still out and about. Mary and Caroline shared a bunk in the corner of the room and thus didn't disturb anyone. We all got ready for bed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the strangers in our room.
At about 4am, I half-woke up to what felt like someone moving my bunk. I heard the Irish man talking out loud to himself, but I was too tired to turn over and see what was happening. Then I heard another voice "No, this is NOT your bed. Your bed is by the DOOR!" Apparently this guy was sleep walking and trying to climb into Caroline's top bunk! "Nooo, YOUR bed is by the door." She said again. He then stumbled and fell into Mary's bed, accidentally hitting her, to which she turned over to face the other way so as not to have to deal with this fool. My half-awake self was not conscious enough to realize that Caroline was the one saying all this, or to realize what exactly was happening in our room at 4am. Eventually he felt his way along the wall back to his bunk, laid down, and apparently began to poke Hannah through the mattress.
I got the full details from Caroline in the morning when she whispered them to me as we got ready. We tried to control our laughter and confusion as the rest of our roommates remained asleep. The Asian kid woke up to take a shower in the bathroom and proceeded to hum/sing to himself as he did so. (Mind you people are still asleep in the room at this time). Clearly irritated, the middle-eastern guy gave out an audible "HAH!" and turned over, as if to say "Wow, are you kidding me?!" That whole morning was just very.... interesting. We packed up all our stuff and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
On the way there, I passed the french woman, who I had briefly talked to the day before. She smiled at me, but then looked worried "Are you leaving?" "Yes, we have to go back to Spain. We were only in Dublin for 2 nights," I explained. "Oh, that is so sad," she said, and she legitimately looked sad/concerned. I think she might have thought we were leaving because of the incident in the middle of the night. Honestly, that memory is so much more funny than it is upsetting/annoying. We said goodbye and wished each other safe & fun travels and parted ways.

Our flight wasn't until around 4pm, so we spend the morning walking through Trinity College and touring the building dedicated to the Book of Kells: "The Book of Kells contains lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the four gospels. It was written over 1000 years ago, probably produced early in the 9th century by the monks of Iona, an island off the west coast of Scotland". It was a very interesting tour that had different signs, rooms, and sections explaining the meaning behind the Book of Kells, its physical construction (a lot of hard book-binding work), its artistic drawings, the symbols and animals used in it, and other such things. The last room contained the actual Book of Kells which was opened to a random page and displayed on a table under a glass display. It was incredible to actually see all the detail and work present on the pages! At the same time, it was slightly disappointing to go through the whole tour, learning all about it, and then only get to see 2 pages under a sheet of glass. After the Book of Kells room we walked up to the Trinity College Old Library, which was a huge, long hallway of about 200,000 books.

"Trinity College Library Dublin is one of the world's greatest research libraries, holding the largest collection of manuscripts and printed books in Ireland. Since 1801, it has had the right to claim a free copy of all British and Irish publications under the relevant copyright acts and has a stock of nearly three million volumes housed in a total of eight buildings...The earliest surviving building was built between 1712 and 1732 and is nearly 65 meters in length."

The roof was originally flat but latter raised and rounded in order to store more books. The library also had 14 sculpted busts, a harp from the 15th century, a copy of the 1916 Proclamation of the Irish Republic, some hand-written sheet music for different songs and psalms, and other various tidbits of information. After that we walked half a mile or so to St. Patrick's Cathedral. We approached the church and noticed a bunch of cameras and some people dressed up in costumes; some movie was being filmed right outside the church! I thought about asking to be an extra, but it didn't look like they were in need of any.
The inside of the church was full of many different historic elements pertaining to the church and former clergy of Dublin. It was nice to walk around inside, but to be quite honest, we were all so beat from the non-stop excitement and activities of the past 4 days that I don't remember much of the specifics of the church. Sooo, here are some pictures! :)









"But Christ is all and in all"
We finished our stay with lunch at a cheap yet delicious Italian restaurant and then headed to catch a bus to the airport. We were tired and travel-worn, but full of memories, laughs, music, and an unforgettable experience of a lifetime. If this blog seemed boring or unrelatable : I suggest you book a plane ticket to Ireland as soon as possible. If this blog was enjoyable and peaked your interest: I suggest you book a plane ticket to Ireland as soon as possible!

All in all, I could not have asked for a better experience in the land of my ancestors with these great people!

+Hannah Kilroy , +Maria Bednar , +Mary Distler , +Caroline Frame  and me

Just being goofballs (a.k.a. ourselves)....





















































Saturday, February 8, 2014

Portugal: Never a Dull Moment

*WARNING: This post is extremely long; read at your own risk (or at your own leisure; you might need some breaks).*

One of the most eventful, crazy, unbelievably hectic and fun trips I have ever taken in my life was last weekend when I spent a total of about 57 hours in the country of Portugal. And I didn't even have to wait to be in Portugal for the craziness to begin!

St. Thomas Aquinas, the patron saint of Catholic schools, colleges, schools, and students, had his feast day on January 28, but the university decided to give us the 31st (Friday) off instead, i.e. 3-day weekend!! Therefore, a Thursday night flight was perfect for me and my fellow travelers +Kristen +Aman , +Kelsey , Kelly, & +Danicole. Four hours before we needed to be at the airport, +Mary and I decided to go to the nearest ATM to take out some cash for our weekend trips (she went to France). 
We happily frolicked over to our Metro stop to its ATM, excited for our first trips out of the country! Well, long story short: my card went in, nothing came out. No money, no card, no NUTHIN'! The metro people tried to help, but all they could do was provide me with the phone number to call the ATM company that owned the machine. Now Mary and I frantically walked back home to explain the situation to Gabi and Roberto. Roberto sat me down in his office as he used the phone to call the ATM number and talk on my behalf. That conversation got us nowhere, so he called an international number for Visa, who eventually put me in contact with my bank. Card was canceled and a new one was ordered (which is now on its way here!). "No te preocupes, cariña," Gabi kept saying. She and Roberto, being the wonderful and generous people that they are, both offered to give me cash if I needed it. Fortunately I still had ~80 Euros with me, so I politely declined the kind offer.

We got from the metro to the airport in good time, and our plane landed in Portugal on time at 10:45 pm and without any problems. Now all we had to do was take the airport metro to the Blue line, take the Blue line towards Santa Apolónia, walk up a big hill and arrive at Equity Point Lisbon Hostel. Apparently the chaos of losing my debit card wasn't thrilling enough for my life, so I had to step it up. The Blue line metro, which was all of about 3 cars, made a quick 10-second stop to allow everyone a chance at getting on 1 of the 3 already-crowded metro cars. "Come on guys, we got this!" I yelled to my group as I asserted my way onto the train. My arm got slammed by the closing door, but I made it on! Woo! I thought Danicole was right next to me, but it turned out he wasn't. I looked out the window to see Kelly still standing on the platform. "Ah, bummer" I thought to myself. It was then that I realized EVERYONE ELSE was still on the platform as well; I was the only one who had made it onto the metro. I helplessly smiled at my group as the metro left.
I should have just gotten off at the next stop, waited for the next train (which most likely contained my friends), and re-grouped with them there, but I thought "Okay, I remember Kristen saying we had to take this toward Santa Apolónia, so I'll just ride it to the end and wait for them there". Simple enough, right? So I stayed on the train for the next 7 stops until the end of the line. I got off and sat on a bench and prepared myself to wait for my friends. 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes.... it was 12:30 a.m. and they still weren't there. I didn't know this then, but it turned out I had neglected one tiny detail: our actual metro stop was Restauradores, 3 stops before Santa Apolónia. Whoops! Oh well :) When I finally realized that I was clearly at the wrong stop, I 1) laughed out loud to myself (because really, when does this ever happen in real life??!), 2) had a quick convo with God about the situation (he loves to do this stuff to me, he's a pretty funny guy), and 3) prepared myself to venture out into the Portuguese world.
All in all, I ended up wondering around Lisbon for a solid 45 minutes-1 hour. I asked directions from a guy in the metro; a metro security guard; an english-speaking taxi driver outside of the metro; a bar "bouncer" & his friends; a (different) hostel lady; a woman on her way home. All I had was the name of the hostel, which wasn't very helpful, but everyone I encountered was so incredibly kind and they all tried their best to help me find my way. The funny thing was that I was lost, alone in a completely foreign country at 1 a.m., but I wasn't worried. I have God, St. Christopher and my guardian angels to thank for that :) At one point though, I was just so tired and wanted to see my friends (who were more worried than I was!), so I stopped by a police station and decided that if I had to sleep anywhere, that was probably the safest place. I walked in on 3 Portuguese-speaking cops standing around talking, and in perfect spanglish I asked "Hablas inglés?" Spanish and Portuguese (and not to mention english!) are completely different languages; (there are similarities, but for the most part they're very different) however, one officer understood me and shook his hand as if to say "I kinda know English". He helped me look up the address of the hostel, wrote it down on a piece of scratch paper, pointed it out to me on the computer, and directed me back towards the taxis outside of the metro. I found my English-speaking buddy again, and he directed me to the taxi that was next in line.

After a 10 minute taxi drive, we found the hostel. I walked up the stairs and buzzed in. The door opened, and I turn to find the hostel desk worker. My mind raced with what to say/how to explain myself, so I started with "Um, I..." but he cut me off, smiling and saying "Are you Erin?" Thank the Lord!
"Yes, that's me! Are my friends here?!" A huge smile of relief appeared on my face before he could answer.
"Yes, they've been pretty worried about you. Here, come in and take your bag off, I'll give them a call. Would you like a glass of water?" I chatted with Tiko (the kind desk worker) about the crazy mishap and my wondering of the streets as I filled out the hostel paperwork and waited for my friends. He gave me a map of Lisbon and pointed out all the touristy things along with some good local restaurants, bars, and clubs that we would have never found on our own. My friends arrived shortly after and embraced me with cries of relief. They brought me up to our 6-bedroom room (a free-of-charge upgrade, thanks to Tiko), showed me the bathrooms and showers, and then we all got ready for bed.
Night 1 in Lisbon: Done :)

Friday morning, my friend +Grace Daly met me at my hostel, and we ate a quick breakfast before we ventured to our bus to Fátima. We asked Tiko for directions to the bus station and he gave us another map to point out the correct metro stop. On our way there, we had to ask for directions from a man on the street (for the metro); a metro security guard (for the bus station); a couple on the street (for the right direction
to the bus station); and bus ticket vendors (to the correct bus). We made it to our bus station with 15 minutes to spare, and we met up with +Hannah  and Joe and got on our bus.

The countryside on the way from Lisbon to Fátima was gorgeous! There was a light fog, but the mountains and greenery and little houses still looked awesome. When we arrived in Fátima, the bus ticket lady there directed us to the shrine, and we walked a couple more blocks up the street. It was a dreary, cloudy day, but even that couldn't take away from the beauty and magic of Fátima. We walked through the huge open square, passed the statue of (soon-to-be-Saint) John Paul II and the High Cross. We toured through the Esplanade that branched out from the front of the Basilica, adorned with the Stations of the Cross in "polychrome ceramic designs".


Some of the Stations of the Cross in "polychrome ceramic designs"

We stepped inside the Basilica that contained 15 altars dedicated to the 15 mysteries of the Rosary and the tombs of the 3 children, "The Seers of Fátima" (Jacinta Marto, Francisco Marto, and Lucía de Jesús, later Sr. Maria Lucia of the Immaculate Heart). Incredible.




 We stopped by the Monument to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which stands tall in the middle of the square over a spring, "its waters being the instrument of many graces". So we took a sip and ungracefully splashed our faces with some graceful water.


Then we went to The Chapel of Apparitions, where there is a beautiful yet humble statue of Mary standing on a pillar over the exact spot in which the apparitions of Our Lady occurred. I knew as soon as I walked through the threshold of the Chapel that it was an extremely holy place and that it was the actual place of Mary's apparitions to the children. Grace and I prayed a Rosary, and I couldn't keep my gaze fixed on anything other than the statue of Mary. What a powerful experience.




After spending a good amount of time in the Chapel, I headed over to this covered wall that had a bunch of burning candles: some skinny, some fat; some were 2 feet tall, and some were little nubs of wax; some were newly lit, some were burning through their last inch of wick. I gathered that they were all Intention Candles, candles lit for loved ones, special intentions and prayers, etc. I bought a skinny 9-inch candle, lit it from the flame of another, and placed it in the holder. I said a few quick prayers for my special intentions and left it to burn with its fellow prayer candles.

 After that, we walked around the outskirts of the shrine and grabbed some lunch. There were well over 20 Fátima souvenir shops, all right next to each other, all selling pretty much the same stuff (I don't know how any of them make money). We re-entered the shrine to look at the piece of the Berlin Wall that was there. "This segment was offered by means of Virgilio Casimiro Ferreira, a Portuguese emigrant to Germany and is here placed as a grateful memorial of God's intervention for the fall of Communism as promised at Fatima. This segment weighs 5,732 lbs. and measures 11'9'' high by 3' wide."













We started to walk back to the bus station to try to change our tickets: originally we planned to stay until the 6:30 bus, but we were done touring by 2:30. For Joe, Grace, and Helen, it was no trouble, a simple change in the system and a new printed ticket. However, when Hannah and I attempted to switch our tickets, there was a problem. "No internet, no change" said the ticket man in his broken English. We realized that because we bought the tickets online, he was unable to change them. And, because I was without the credit card used to pay for said ticket, he REALLY could not change it. Hannah even tried approaching the bus driver to explain that we had the paid ticket, we just wanted an earlier bus. A nice Portuguese stranger tried to help the situation by being her translator, but the bus driver wouldn't let us on. So we said bye to the other 3 and prepared to wait for 3 hours until our bus. The 3 pm bus left with our 3 friends, and 3:15 bus stopped by the station next. All of a sudden the Portuguese translator man from before comes inside and starts excitedly speaking to Hannah and me. "Bus 50, here, it is your bus" he tried to explain to us. He saw that our tickets said 'Bus 50', and the one that had just pulled into the station was also 'Bus 50'; therefore it was our bus, just a different time. "Thank you! Gracias! Obrigado!" we told him as we walked toward the bus. The bus driver had his back to us, so he didn't see our tickets, so Hannah and I "sneaked" onto the bus (with our pre-paid tickets!) and headed back to Lisbon.

Joe and Hannah needed directions to their hostel, so I brought them back to mine (only after asking for directions from 2 guys on the street). The desk worker gave them directions and we parted ways. I then took a much-needed 2 hour nap :) We decided to check out a local restaurant called "Casa de India" (recommended by Tiko) for dinner. It was a loonngg wait for a table of 6 to open up at one of the most popular restaurants, but it ended up being soooo worth it. The chicken, which they're known for, was pretty good, but what made it worth it were the friends we made during our meal. In most of Europe, when you go out to eat, you are just placed at any table that your party fits in, and if there's seating available right next to you, you eat with a complete stranger sitting right next to you. *Culture shock!* After only being seated for about 5 minutes, the young lady next to me turned and asked, in English, "So where are you guys from?" We explained to her that we were students from America, studying abroad in Madrid, Spain and traveling through Portugal for the weekend. Sophia and I quickly became friends as we asked each other questions about each others' lives, our cultures, and the truth or invalidity of the stereotypes about the U.S. What an incredible experience! There was a seat open across from Sophia, and within 10 minutes or so, a random French man named Phillip sat down there. Sophia and Phillip started bonding as they both spoke in their mutual language: English! Why isn't the U.S. this cultured?! A French man and a Portuguese woman converse in English while they share a dinner as strangers next to a table full of American study abroad students from Spain: SO. COOL.
Dinner at Casa de India Restaurant in Lisbon, Portugal, with our new friends Sophia and Phillip!
We bid adieu to our new foreign friends as we headed back to our hostel for the night. We hung out in the hip, chill lobby of Equity Point and planned our next day in Lisbon.
Night 2: Done.
The next morning I had a tour at 9 am with "We Hate Tourism Tours"; it sounds crazy, but it was such an interesting concept! Instead of sitting in a big coach bus, driving to big historical monuments and museums and such, we got a personalized tour by 1 of 4 local guides who drove us around all day in big 9-person vans. Our tour guide was Johanna, a spunky 27-year-old who really knew her Portugal history and enjoyed her job! They took us to Sintra, a town within the Lisbon region where old royalty used to take "vacations", where we saw many beautiful old palaces built into the mountainside or on top of hills, including the Quinta da Regaleira. We sampled some of Portugal's classic queijadas (it was kind of like a crunchy little cinnamon cupcake with a rice-pudding-like filling) and ginja (a sweet liquor made with sour ginja berries).
Hannah, Theresa and I trying a small shot of ginja
in an edible chocolate shot cup (tiny, but delicious!)

Joe, Hannah and I eating the queijadas - soooo good! :)


















The palace of Quinta da Regaleira
Another unique thing about this tour was that we allowed to go out and explore on our own; our guides did the driving to and from places, but upon reaching our destinations, they would kick us out of the van and encourage us to get lost. "Get lost; we'll meet over at such-and-such place in an hour or so" Johanna would always say. We toured through the gardens and grounds of Quinta da Regaleira for about an hour (not long enough), climbing up old towers, walking on (stones in) water, traveling through mazes of caves, and touring the main house palace.



 It was so cool to see the beauty of nature that encompassed the entire grounds (and Sintra in general). It always amazes me to see the old castles, towers, palaces, cathedrals, churches, etc. that were built thousands of years ago and have lasted this long! The God-given talent and dedication of artists just completely blows my mind; beautiful.
 Hannah walking on water!^

<Here's me posing with some nice rocks :)
From the bottom of the Unfinished Well, looking up
From the top of the Unfinished Well, looking down



 Next Johanna took us to eat traditional Portuguese empanadas (sadly, I do not have pictures of these tasty treats) and red wine at a side-of-the-road little mobile trailer kitchen thing (?). An empanada can be compared to a calzone; it's dough that is folded over a filling of sauce, cheese, and chorizo and then baked. Mmmm.... We stayed there a bit and walked around the fresh produce market that was near it. We had some of the freshest strawberries and sweetest oranges there. Mmmm x's 2....

Our next adventure was a drive to The Most Western Point in Europe. I wish I could express the beauty of the ocean and cliffs that I saw there, but words just cannot do it justice. Even these pictures only contain a fraction of nature's true beauty:










(It was insanely windy while we were there, too, which made it that much better for pictures, ex: crazy hair^

A short 5-minute drive took us to another part of the ocean with accessible beaches, so the tour guides allowed us to roam free on the sand for a quick 10 minutes. A number of people took off their shoes and socks, including myself, and just walked around. I decided it was now or never to get to step into the Atlantic ocean while I was here, so Hannah and I waited for the the next tide to creep in. When we saw it coming, we both took off toward the tide, not knowing that this incoming wave was MUCH stronger and bigger than the last. Needless to say, our jeans were SOAKED. But hey, ya gotta embarrass yourself and live a little every now-and-then, right? ;)
           
     
Luckily I had a small washcloth in my backpack that I used to scrub most of the sand off my feet, but it did nothing to dry my pants. Fortunately it was pretty sunny that day (although windy, too), so my pants (kinda) dried eventually. Another drive in our van brought us to the "rich, posh" part of Lisbon, as described by Johanna. We stopped for some amazing gelato (I got milk chocolate and caramel) and then we were on our way to the famous Belém Tower (pronounced like "Beh-LIME"). Honestly, I had never heard about this tower before that day, but apparently it's a well-known icon of Portugal that "is proof you were actually in Portugal. Otherwise, people aren't going to believe you" said Johanna.

The Tower of Belém!




 We looked at another huge monument that symbolized some war, but by then I was getting pretty exhausted from the busy day and didn't take many pictures or interest in the exact history (sorry, not sorry).
This is an example of a Pastel de Nata;
it has a buttery crust and is filled
with a thick, sweet cream. You usually
sprinkle some powdered sugar and
cinnamon on these as well!
We finished the day back at We Hate Tourism Tours brand-new headquarters! We were the first group to see their office that was going to open the following week; pretty cool! All the groups enjoyed the classic Pastel de Nata (literally "pastry of cream") from Casa Pasteis de Belém as we reminisced on the awesome day that just happened.
My W.H.T.T group with our awesome guide Johanna (third from right)!




Back at my hostel, I took another much-needed siesta before going out for our last night in the wonderful Portugal. For dinner, we went to another Tiko-recommended local restaurant called "Zapata". We had another long wait, but once again, the dinner and company greatly outweighed that inconvenience. As we waited for our food, we tried to decide what wine to order. The 6 of us were all conflicted on which wine to try since the only wine we had ever really experienced was Sangria. In the middle of this wine confusion, I feel a tap on my back. "Excuse me, do you need help with the menu?" asked the Portuguese stranger sitting directly behind me. I explained to him that we were trying to pick out a wine to drink with dinner, but we didn't know what to choose. "Ah, let me see," he said. It turns out that he has been studying different types of wine and was a sort of "wine connoisseur"! He and his friend both knew a lot about all the wines, and after we discussed the different options, our table ordered with their suggestions: a light rose wine to drink before the meal, and a green wine (made only in Portugal) to go with the meal. Both suggestions were spot-on, and the wine was phenomenal. The food was amazing as well: I got a pork steak with a fried egg on top, a portion of rice, a small salad, and some french fries for only 7 Euro!! Kelly and I talked to Arthur and Peter (the names of the wine connoisseur and his friend) for a little bit after we thanked them graciously for their knowledgeable and tasty wine suggestions.

After dinner we decided to stop by the park that Tiko had suggested. All he had said was "It's pretty cool because you can pretty much see the whole city from there." With that being said, we pictured some trees and a swing set on top of a huge hill in the middle of the city. However, it turned out that "The Parque" was a parking garage, which you climbed to the top to see the view. And on top of it there was a cute, chic little restaurant & bar, complete with inside and outside seating, a stereo system, and small fire pits outside. If that wasn't cool enough, the view definitely was: the lights of various buildings and houses could be seen for miles, as well as the April 25th bridge (built just like the San Francisco bridge) that touched the ocean. It seriously took our breath away; we had to sit down in silence for a good 5 minutes to attempt to take it all in. Even with the lights of the city, we could still see numerous stars in the sky, including the Big Dipper. We didn't want to leave the Parque, much less Lisbon in general. (It brings back bittersweet memories even now as I type this, but I knew it couldn't last forever.) We stayed a bit longer, trying our very best to soak in as much of the view as our eyes and memories would allow us, and then we departed.

We met up with Miguel, another tour guide from W.H.T.T. who Kristen, Aman, and Danicole had as their guide, and he told us how to get to the Pink Road (it's a street in the young, hipster part of town that is literally painted pink!). We made our trek through the busy streets of Portugal, crowded with groups of young people hanging out or on their ways to the bars/clubs. We passed many streets that were filled with people who were just standing around, right outside the bars, drinking and socializing, completely calm and peaceful. Why can't this happen in the U.S.??!  If we tried this at all, 1) people would get arrested for walking around with alcohol in public, 2) the immature teen/young adult population would probably do what they do best and get hammered/wasted/smashed, and 3) the aforementioned idiots would undoubtedly cause numerous scenes of embarrassing stupor or violence and thus ruin it for the rest of us. *Sigh* Oh well. It will just have to remain another aspect of Europe that makes it so much more interesting and mature than The States. Regardless, we eventually arrived at The Pink Road, took an obligatory "Look, we're tourists!" selfie with the road in the background, and headed back home to Equity Point.

Our plane left the Lisbon airport at 7:45 a.m. Sunday morning, which meant we had to be in a taxi around 5:30 a.m., which meant we all got about 2.5 hours of sleep. But hey, that's the traveler's life :)

Obrigada por tudo, Portugal!