In continuation with the ‘Sean and Jaime in Ireland Adventure Week,’ we arrived in Killarney by bus and  found our way to our hostel.  Killarney is considered a tourist town and is looked down upon by some of the Irish folk that we have met along the way, but I really liked Killarney.  It definitely did have its fair share of souvenir shops and tourist attractions, but I didn’t think that took away from the town at all.  I liked the winding cobblestone streets and pubs and cafes on every corner.  Our first day in Killarney we rented bicycles and rode to the Killarney National Park which, as was expected, was perfectly beautiful.   The park had its own mountains, lakes, waterfalls, and forest trails to be explored.  We discovered an old monastery within the park; an exploration which included waltzing about the open hall, and a brief game of hide and seek.  We also came upon the Muckross House, which is a grand and elegant manor.  We all approached the door to the house, and seeing that it was open we innocently walked in.  The rooms were perfectly composed of all the finest chandeliers, china, massive room-length dining tables, and anything you would envision royalty owning in the past.  We were in awe as we stumbled our way from room to room, and didn’t think anything was odd until we realized we were the only people we had seen since entering the house.  We then heard a tour beginning in the entrance hallway, which was when we came to the realization that we were not supposed to be in this house without a guide.  The rest of our time was like the scene in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, when the children are hiding in the giant house, trying not to be discovered by the tour.  We ducked into the next rooms as the tour group rounded the corners right by us, and ran upstairs to avoid being discovered.  We eventually found our way out.  Sean claimed someone on the tour looked back and saw us just as we were exiting, so it was a close call.  The whole thing was quite exciting, and as there were no signs and the door was open, I would argue- not our fault.   

The following day we walked the 7 km through The Gap of Dunloe, which was a very lovely walk among the mountains.  We stopped along the way and had our picnic lunch- baked beans directly from the can and cheese or apple slices and cheese on a baguette, and fig newtons.  I’m not even sure how many times we had this over the course of the week, but it became our signature meal.  We had it so many times, that this food combination is now forever going to remind me of Ireland.   From Killarney we took the bus to Cork, which is quite an industrial-looking city.  Certainly there is nothing wrong with the city-life, but it is not what I think of when I imagine Ireland, so it wasn’t my favorite Irish location.  We had a nice time walking around the streets, but we didn’t spend a lot of time right in Cork city.  Instead, we took a bus out to Blarney Castle, where we all kissed the Blarney Stone.  According to legend, as a result we have all now been bestowed the gift of blarney.  The whole affair is a rather unusual tradition, and I’m very curious now to learn how kissing the Blarney Stone came about.  First you have to climb to the top of Blarney Castle, then once at the top you lean backwards over a pretty extensive drop, and have the man working lower you upside-down a hole in the floor so you can kiss the stone, which is simply part of the wall.  A very curious tradition.  The rest of the grounds surrounding the Blarney Castle are quite lovely and picturesque as well, so we took a wood nymph/fairytale photoshoot.   

It was sad to see Sean and Jaime leave when it was time for them to go.  They could have stayed the entire time and I would have been fine with that.

The next week we spent in a town called Dunmanway with a woman named Phoebe and her horses.  Phoebe is a very sweet British woman who was very welcoming and watches a lot of British television with humor I can’t quite understand.  Chad and I stayed in an apartment outside of the main house, where we had to light a wood-burning stove to keep warm at night.  Our work at Phoebes included a lot of weeding, stacking wood, cleaning out horse stables, and repairing fences.  Chad forgot to add ‘do not touch electric fences while the charge is on’ to his ‘Things I Have Learned in Ireland List,’ because he got shocked and thrown to the ground at least four times.  What a ‘shocking’ experience.  Phoebe let us each ride one of her horses down the road one day.  The horse only walked, but it makes me wish I rode horses.  Chad was able to make his famous cornbread one night, which was delicious as always.  We think a leprechaun dropped off the cornmeal we needed to make it though.  We had been looking for cornmeal every time we went into a grocery store for a month so he could make his cornbread, but we have never been able to find it.  Phoebe even helped us search for it, but said she couldn’t find any.  Then out of nowhere cornmeal just appeared on her counter, and she claimed she didn’t know where it was from.  Magical Irish leprechaun magic. 

things i've learned in ireland - by chad

- Lunch is called dinner and dinner is supper. - It threw me off the first day of wwoofing when John, our first host, called us in for dinner and it was still the middle of the day. I was a bit worried that that would be our only meal.

- Do not describe small Irish towns as "cute." It is an insult.

- Dogs chase sheep. Don't take them out without a leash because they will find sheep to chase. Especially in Ireland.

- As a Nation, the United States is very young; I know it's cliche to say. But when you make it to a country in which old castles dot the landscape, you begin to understand.

- The association between Ireland and rainbows is not an over-dramatized publicity stunt. In just a month and a half I have seen more rainbows here than I would see in a year's time back home.
- Over here, almost all weeds come in the form of devilish plants known as nettles. DO NOT take them lightly. Nettles refuse to recognize the rules of warfare and will torture any captives that they happen to brush up against; leaving them with large white and red welts that last for about half an hour.

- When being offered real Irish coffee, be sure that that's the only alcohol-based drink you have for the evening.

- Ireland is green....enough said.

- Sorry Mom and Dad, but this is hilarious. (Especially when you're laying awake in your hostel bunk and one of the two drunken Australians that came stumbling into the room says it to the other)
"You could walk into a brothel with a handful of fifties and still not find a whore!"

- If you're leaving home for three months, bring someone you love. It helps.

- Nothing beats an Irish penny whistler on a street corner.

- While abroad, one can look back at their home country from the outside. Here, they are able get full view of all the happenings that, had they been back home, surround them. The ability to weigh and judge your country with a clear head allows you to see where you stand as a citizen. This trip has brought to life an admiration for America that, although I feel has always been there, has been laying dormant.

- Cows suck.

This past week my two wonderful friends, Sean and Jaime, came to visit, and we spent the entire week traveling around Ireland; hopping from beautiful place to even more beautiful place.  We met them in Galway, where we didn't spend much time, but we met an aspiring musician in our hostel room who played his guitar for us.  The next morning we tried to rent a car, but discovered there is a strict age limit of 23 to rent a car in Ireland, so in record time we threw our bags together and rushed to the bus station to catch the only bus going to Doolin, where we had already booked our hostel for the evening.  Doolin was absolutely charming- everything you would expect in a small Irish town, and I believe I would say it was my favorite spot in Ireland so far.  After we each spent every cent of money we each had on our hostel and a picnic lunch, we decided we needed to walk to the Cliffs of Moher, where the nearest ATM was.  Our hostel owner gave us the advice to take a path that took us walking right along the cliffs, and I am so grateful that he did.  The scenery we saw on this walk was absolutely spectacular- I don't think pictures will ever be able to do it justice.  We had our lunch right on the edge of a huge drop off the cliffs into the ocean, saw dolphins playing in the waves from afar, made friends with some horses, and discovered giant caves all along this path.  By the time we reached the Cliffs of Moher tourist office, the room with the ATM was closed, so none of us were able to take out the money we were planning on using to take a bus back to Doolin.  Since the walk there along the cliffs had taken the better part of the day, we decided to start the long walk back by way of the road.  After going some ways we decided to be brave and started sticking out our thumbs as cars went past to see if we could hitch.  Fortunately, a friendly Irish man with a big van picked us up and brought us back to our hostel.  So now we can say we have hitchhiked in Ireland!  The next day we rented bikes so we could ride back to the ATM at the cliffs (the people here are so very trusting- the man gave us the bikes that day just taking our word that we were going to get money to pay for it later!).  We stopped frequently along the way every time someone saw a particularly large patch of black raspberries that we needed to stop and eat.  Jaime did an artsy photo shoot with her fancy new camera in some old church ruins and graveyard we found, then we rode our bikes closer to the ocean, until we had to leave our bikes and climb down rocks to reach the water.  The waves crashing against the rocks were massive, so naturally we all had to stand, fully clothed, right at the edge of the water and let the waves crash over us.  When we finally left the water to go return the bikes we were cold, soaked, and positively thrilled.  Every moment of the wet ride back was 100% worth it.  Standing in those waves with these people has to go on my list of life's best moments.
After Doolin we took the bus to Killarney, where we had plenty more adventures, but will have to be recounted in my next post- which will hopefully be very very soon!

If you are lucky enough to see my mother today, wish her a happy birthday and give her a big hug from me, because I can't do it in person right now! 

To start off, we should just establish that cows are not my favorite.  I might even be okay with not seeing another cow again for a very long long time.  Maybe I don't even want to look at milk for a bit.  I'm sticking to soy milk from now on.  Chad and I started herding the cows up the many fields and into the milking barn, which was going perfectly smoothly until the cows decided they wanted to take a little detour off on an old beaten swamp path that neither of us had ever even NOTICED before, let alone thought that it should be blocked off.  (Gerard has since confirmed that he doesn't block it off because the cows always take no notice of it and just pass it by and continue up to the barn.  The cows decided today, when Chad and I were in charge, would be a good day for some exploring.)  Once one cow starts going, there is no stopping the rest of them.  They all filed happily into the swamp, which Chad and I had to try and wade around in frantically trying to herd them back to the main path.  We finally get them headed out, but all the cows walking about created a literal quicksand muck at the opening which I get stuck in, and on top of that, they decide to all turn the wrong way and start hurrying off into far off distant fields in the complete opposite direction.  Some of them even break over the fences into areas that I still don't know if Gerard owns, or if they were loose on someone else's property.  Picture me, literally knee-deep stuck in the mud, trying ridiculously to find my boots, both of which have fallen off and have been swallowed by the muck, while Chad is running, waving his hands, and shouting at sixty cows all intent doing exactly the opposite of what he was screaming at them.  (When I said in an earlier post that there were fifty cows I was wrong- sixty is the total count)  The family dog, Jack, followed us down and did what I'm sure he thought was helping by barking at the cows and getting them to run around.  Problem was, Jack always chose to herd them in exactly the opposite direction of where we wanted, and every time we got them almost going the right way, he would bark and terrify them into scattering about.  In the end, Chad had to carry Jack up through the fields so he wouldn't run the cows into the wrong direction, and Jack is not a small dog.  Getting these cows assembled, in the barn, and milked was an evening-long process.  Eventually Gerard came home once we had started the milking, took one look at our exhausted expressions and filthy suits (remember, I spent a good portion of this time shoeless in the mud- needless to say I was a mess), and told us to go inside and shower; he would finish up.  I was extremely grateful to him.  Looking at this scene now, I am fully aware of how absurdly hysterical it is.  We've already laughed pretty hard about it, and I have no doubt in twenty years we are going to love reliving this story.  Believe me, at the time none of this was funny.         
On a much less exhausting and ridiculous note, we spent two days in a town called Dingle last week.  Dingle is a small fisherman's town, right by the ocean.  I would say it has the feel to it that Maine does, except with the addition of cobblestone streets and different accents.  I really loved Dingle.  We spent a long time walking about the streets, stopping in little shops and their farmer's market.  From the farmer's market stands we bought cheese truffles (just because they sounded interesting) and baguettes, which we ate for lunch by the water.  We also tried 'spaghetti of the sea,' which turns out is seaweed.  I wasn't a fan, but Chad said he liked it.  Dingle is famous for their mascot dolphin named Fungi, which swims around the bay and shows off for tourist outings that boat out to see him.  Chad and I decided to take the cheaper way, so we walked along the beach, climbing over the rocks out to where Fungi stays.  Our timing was lucky because we arrived just as a tourist boat did, so from a distance we could see him swimming around in the water.  We made a new friend who joined us on our walk, and stayed with us the entire afternoon; a friendly dog who we named Squirrel Tail because...he had a tail that looked like a squirrel's.  No deep hidden metaphor in that name.  We were sad to leave him at the end of the afternoon, and wished there was a way to package him back home with us.  

Some infrequent internet use has caused some infrequent posting.  I'm hoping to change that soon.  We're staying with a really great family now on a dairy farm.  Irish parents Gerard, Claire, and their three daughters adopted from Vietnam (ages 9, 5, and 1).  These children are adorable.
Chad and I can now say that we have milked fifty cows by ourselves in less than two hours.  Usually the WWOOFers staying with this family work mainly in their gardens and around the house and don't really interact with the cows, but because  Claire and Gerard went away this weekend, he had to show us how to milk the cows so we could do it while they were gone.  Even though it is all by machine, this is an INTENSE process.  I have a list of notes front and back detailing what we have to do each time.  First we suit up in some Dharma Initiative Jumpsuits so that we can stay relatively clean throughout the process (this is often not that successful), then go through a pretty extensive procedure of pushing buttons, lifting levers, unscrewing nozzles to get everything in order and make sure the milk is being cooled properly.  We round up the cows from one of the fields by shouting and clapping at them and they eventually all file into the milking barn, where we let ten in at a time into these narrow platforms.  From below, we disinfect the utters, then attach suction machines.  The whole thing is definitely an experience far unlike anything I've ever done before.  While I don't know I would want to milk cows everyday, I am glad to say I have done it.
We're trying to put together a meal for the family tomorrow night when they come back to give Claire a break from cooking, and we finally decided Mexican food would be a good idea because it would certainly be different for them than the standard meat and potatoes. We are finding, however, that the groceries sold at the stores here are not the same as what are sold at home.  This meal for tomorrow has already involved some emailing to my mom, listing the ingredients I have and asking how in the world I can turn that into a meal.  She figured it out; I knew she would. :)    
There is much more of beautiful Ireland that is worth telling about, but as I have to be up in six hours to milk the cows, those will have to wait until sometime in what will hopefully be the not so very distant future. 
We're sending our love to everyone back home.