Before I go into a recap of my week-long drinking binge, I need to apologize for not updating the blog sooner. I've been recovering for the last couple days and had absolutely no desire to spend the time online required to give a proper recap of the week. My cousin Lana came for a visit, so we took a 6-day all Ireland tour, which was absolutely awesome. I went up to Dublin last Friday so I could meet her at the airport Saturday morning, only to find out that the plane was delayed. So what did I do for the three hours I had to wait for the plane to arrive? What any Canadian girl living in Ireland would do--I had a pint at the airport bar. And thus commenced my drinking binge. I took Lana to the Temple Bar area of Dublin because it's basically the thing to do in Dublin. Traveling up there again reminded me of why I moved to Cork. I really don't care for Dublin, and apparently the Dublin boys were not raised to be gentlemen (you know, unlike the Cork boys. Mind you, my "gentlemanly" Cork friends may be a bit biased on that one). On Sunday, we took a bus tour of Dublin, which helped me to re
alize that Dublin may not be as bad as I thought it was. It was nice to explore before settling in for dinner--nice, traditional American cuisine. We ended up at T.G.I. Friday's, where I finally got some buffalo chicken wings (not like at home, but close enough that I powered through). We got up early Monday because the tour left at 8 am from the hostel, and I had a bit of a rocky start. If you've met my mother, you'll wonder how I managed what happened next, but if you've also met my father, you'll understand that I had to take after at least one of them--I left my camera in the hostel and didn't realize until I was about to get on the bus. I couldn't get back up to the room, but they took my info and sent me on my way. About half an hour into the bus ride, Joe, our driver and tour guide, got over the microphone to tell me my camera would meet me in Belfast. So, while I missed some amazing photo opportunities the first couple days, I was able to mak
e up for it over the next four and still had Lana to take some pictures of me on the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge and the Giant's Causeway. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson after that, but I was still pretty absent-minded though managed to only almost leave things behind for a few days. Feel free to pause and shake your head. Either way, we made our way to Derry in the north, stopping to see the severed, preserved head of Oliver Plunkett, and settled into our hostel for the night. The guys at the hostel put on a barbecue for us for dinner, and as any true Albertan shouldn't say, the beef here is some of the best beef I've ever had. I've eaten more burgers here than I ever did at home. We went to a pub that night with some people from the hostel and our new friends from the tour to listen to some traditional Irish music. Unfortunately, I can't remember most of it since the drinks kept on flowin'. The next morning we made our way to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge and the Giant's Causeway. The bridge was absolutely amazing, but definitely not for the faint of heart. Though I may have an unnatural fear of ladders, bridges have never bothered me. Jump out 
of a plane with some weird French dude and a parachute attached me? Ahh, no problem! Cross an unsteady bridge made of rope overlooking some sharp rocks with waves splashing over them? Eep. I managed, though, and it was well worth it. The scenery was breathtaking and really made me want to move to a cottage by the coast. The Giant's Causeway on the other hand...I just thought it would be more impressive, I guess. It was really neat of course, but it just wasn't quite what I expected. We took a black taxi tour when we got to Belfast, which is the tour you'd take to get the history of the ongoing battle between the north and south. We got to sign the peace wall and had an informative ride around before heading for some traditional "boxty", which is a potato crepe type thing filled with meat. We headed out again with a few people from our group, but we were all pretty tired from the night before and didn't last too long. Instead of the peaceful night sleep we had planned, we were woken up by som
e guys yelling in the hallway. Turned out that someone had gone into the bathroom and had closed the door to the hall leading into the bathroom, despite the sign that said "Do not close this door! You will be LOCKED IN". Boy was he ever locked in. If it hadn't been so funny, we probably wouldn't have been so impressed about the rude awakening. From Belfast, we left the 3-day and 10-day tourists and continued with just the 6-dayers. Things seemed to just get better from there because we had all bonded a bit more (and I had my camera back). We headed down to Galway, stopping at the grave of W.B. Yeats (and me being the dork I am, I absolutely loved it). We stopped in a little town for lunch where we got to enjoy the ocean and marvel at the souls brave enough to venture out on surfboards in the freezing water. Galway was a really fun place and I had basically the best food I've had since I got here--why? Because the sauce on my tortellini tasted like a higher end Cheez Whiz sau
ce. Don't underestimate my love of orange, cheese-flavored plastic spread. We basically ended up bar hopping in Galway and somehow managed to make our way to a club with a local guy, where we partied it up inside a giant disco ball booth. Yes, I felt way too old for that but had a pretty fantastic time. I left the girls and made my roomie Gavin walk me home (because he had a key and I pretty much get lost doing anything), where I had a pretty good sleep in preparation for the part of the trip I'd been looking forward to most--The Cliffs of Moher. I really can't even explain how truly awesome it was to see them and how the pictures I got really couldn't do it justice. It's a bit unfortunate that I couldn't take more pictures of the scenery as we drove, but fortunately for us, we had a wonderfully fun bus driver who kept us entertained with songs, history, and, well, just the sound of the Irish accent of course. We made our way to the hostel on the Dingle peninsula, which was pretty isolated and attached to a bar. The only stipulation for the night? Karaoke! As anyone who knows me well enough would know, I'm as tone deaf as they come but never hesitate to show off. I teamed up with my new Canadian friend, Andrea, and the two Aussie girls (who I absolutely adore), Hannah and Jodie, and we belted out some Bryan Adams, Summer of '69. These girls plus Ga
vin and Lana made my roomies for the rest of the trip, and we had way too much fun. After Dingle (where I hopped on Fungie the Dolphin's statue--you know, being the classy Canadian broad that I am), we made our way to Killarney for a carriage ride and more heavy drinking. We ended up in a dorm with 14 beds, but at that point, I was so exhausted and used to sleeping around other people that I managed to sleep through the night. It was our last night with the group, which was really sad because we'd all made some really great friends. So, we partied it up and managed to get Dana and Jim to come out a bit more than they had. They were a 50-ish couple from Virginia who turned out to be bloody hilarious. We had a lot of fun with them and Pierre, who was the French Canadian guy we had picked up half-way through our trip. It was a nice send off before heading to Blarney in the morning. My friend Tanisha was visiting from Scotland, so Lana and I decided to end our trip before heading back to Dublin, partially because I didn't want to make that 4.5 hour bus trip back to Cork after spending the day tr
aveling there. Since I'd already kissed the stone, I figured I didn't need any more gift of gab and watched as the hungover girls I was with attempted not to grace the stone with some stomach contents. Joe dropped us off on the side of a busy motorway inside the city (and unfortunately, it was the side of the city I hadn't ventured to yet). He left us saying "Follow that road down and you can get a cab on that road). Didn't seem so bad until we realized the sidewalk ended and we had to try and hail a cab on the busy motorway. We 
made it home and Lana was feeling the effects of the week-long binge/lack of sleep probably more than I was (because I turned in early enough most of the time...I'm definitely not 19 anymore...sigh), so she decided not to join me with Tanisha and the boys. Of course, I didn't hear from Alan until about 9:30 telling me we'd be going out at 10:30, and I certainly didn't think I was going to make it all night. I met him and John at a rooftop bar that was packed and loud, so we headed to a pub across the street to wait for Tanisha and Brian before heading to yet another pub to sit with them for a bit. I suppose where the gentleman in Cork boys comes in is where they can't stand to see us empty handed--so much for taking it easy for the night. We ended at a club where Brian's sister was with a few of her friends, and we didn't leave there until about 2:45ish. I cut myself off, from what I can remember, and we headed back to Brian's house to app
arently continue with the drinking. I spent the night there and certainly wasn't going to complain because the bed was basically amazing, especially in comparison to the one I've been sleeping on for the last month. He made us all breakfast in the morning (finally some Irish sausage) before playing taxi for us. After checking out the Cork Gaol on a Cork city bus tour, Lana and I decided to go out to a pub that night, which was unfortunate because it was a Sunday and there weren't too many cute locals out where we were. I took her to Sin E, which is the pub the boys took me out to the weekend before I met Lana in Dublin. They had a live band, and Alan ended up meeting us there after a bit, so we had a nice mellow night. We took it pretty easy Monday, ordered some pizza and chilled out at my place because neither of us felt like moving much. Since last night was her last night here, I decided to take her to a place that I read was a "meat market" so that she could hopefully find a cute local to take home to mom and dad ;). We showed up at the Old Oak and it was basically empty. So much for the meat market. After sending a text or two, I found out the place would probably pick up a bit later, so we ordered a few Bulmers and waited patiently. A band came on and the place definitely filled up, so I had the duty of playing wingman. I'm horrible for scoping guys, so Lana basically pointed boys out and I took over the duty of talking to them. Leave it to me to find the one Canadian in the place. We saw the two guys talking and maybe it was the Bulmers, but we thought they were F
rench. Turned out one of them was Columbian living in Rome and the other one was from Ottawa. We had a fun time and called it a night early enough because Lana had to be back in Dublin tonight so she could catch her flight in the morning. As we were waiting for the bus, we got grabbed around the shoulders by none other than the Columbian. The guys had taken off a bit earlier than we did because they had to be back at the hostel, so it was just sort of random to run into him. He was apparently on his way to Dublin too to catch his flight back to Rome in the morning. So, after seeing Lana off to Dublin, I headed home to relax for the night so I can get up and apply for some more jobs in the morning. Ahh, back to the routine of real life. The trip definitely helped me feel better about not being in Canada though. This place is absolutely gorgeous, and being able to "come home" to my place here helped reinforce that I have settled in. It was a really great trip and I can't wait to continue on my journey. No more drinking, though. At least until the weekend.Oh, and I will post the link to my Facebook album again so you guys can take a look.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=169008&id=511448357&l=5ebcb2b501
