Zug and Zürich: Switzerland Part IV

Here's another delayed posting. I wrote this in the airport leaving Switzerland (to give you some context). Enjoy!


            I started missing Interlaken as soon as we headed toward the train station, but I had a flight out of Zurich and we wanted to see the city before we left. Zurich hostels were insanely expensive and we’d been told by someone at the Geneva hostel that we should see Zug, a little lake town outside of Zurich, so we decided to spend our last night in Zug. We left Interlaken on the 11:00 train with a plan to train to Zug, check into the hostel and put down our stuff, then train back into Zurich for the rest of the day. Erin’s train left Monday at 3 and my flight wasn’t until 9:00pm, so we could spend Monday morning either walking around Zug or back in Zurich. It seemed like a perfect plan: not too structured with plenty of flexibility, while ensuring we could see at least part of both places. I now refer you back to my earlier post about my trip to Italy, and my magnificent track record of “perfect plans”.

            We reached the Zug hostel around 2, aided by a French tourist who barely spoke English but helped direct us down the hostel street, which was completely unmarked and almost blocked by construction. We walked through the door and were greeted by the empty reception desk and a sign saying that they would be back at 5. Now we had a dilemma. Option 1: Haul our bags back to Zurich, pay for a locker in the train station and spend the day walking around the city. Option 2: Lug our stuff around Zug, which as of yet gave us the impression of being tiny and closed for Sunday. Option 3: Try to find somewhere new to stay. Option 4: Sit in the hostel kitchen swapping pictures and watching downloaded episodes of Castle and Glee. And the winner is…Do you have a guess?...Is the suspense killing you?...Well here it is…OPTION 4!!!

            Yep, that’s right, we spent our 3 hours sitting in what looked like a personal kitchen watching tv on a computer, and it was the best way I could imagine spending the time. We checked in at 5:00 and then tried to find a grocery store, but everything was of course already closed, so we settled for the pasta and sauce we’d bought the first night in Geneva.

            After the amazingness that was Balmers and Interlaken, a relaxing night was welcome and, in our opinions, deserved. This morning we woke up insanely early to see the sunrise over the lake, which was made difficult since the lake turned out to be to the west. Still, it was a goal of ours to see a Swiss sunrise, and it got us up and out early. We made a longer-than-expected stop at Starbucks since the Zug Hostel’s promised free-wifi was MIA, then headed into Zurich. People had been right to say it was insanely expensive, but we walked around and saw most of the sights featured on tourist postcards and had lunch at a guidebook-recommended sausage stand (delicious!). Erin and I then parted ways. She headed to the train station and headed to Italy. I caught a showing of Black Swan, thus successfully shortening my wait time in the airport and checking another 2011 Oscar Nominated Movie off my list.

            My flight is boarding, which means it’s time for this post to be over. I love Dublin and know I need to be home studying and writing papers before Mom and Dad come to visit Friday, but I had no idea I would be this sad to leave Switzerland. It’s dangerously close to Australia (maybe even above?!) on my list of favorite places that I want to (semi-unrealistically but you never know) move, and I can’t wait to get back. If anyone’s heading to Interlaken and needs a bunk buddy at Balmers, let me know!

Balmers and Interlaken: Switzerland Part III

I know this post is late in coming, but I just couldn't forget about it completely. It's been written since April, I just didn't find the time to upload until now.


            I’m not sure how to write this next post about Interlaken, so forgive me if I ramble or it seems like I’m writing an extended, repetitive love letter. I assure you, Interlaken deserves it.

            As I realized in a flash of genius on a hike, the name “Interlaken” refers to the town’s placement between two lakes. The city is known as a hub of extreme sports from snowboarding and skiing in winter to skydiving, rafting, paragliding and canyoning in summer. The town is wonderful, the lakes are spectacular, and hiking trails through the mountains deliver spectacular views of the surrounding alps. Rather than trying to tackle Interlaken chronologically, I think I’ll break down the days more into category: active, daytime social, nightlife. We’ll see how much things overlap and I’ll probably fail at any sort of categorizing. Balmers is too amazing to separate and categorize. Everything meshes together to create a mecca of fun and the most amazing hostel experience that I (and everyone else I met there or know who has been) have found.

The Hostel

            Practically everything about Balmers is amazing. The staff is incredibly friendly and helpful, suggesting hikes and offering pictures they took from a few days before, scheduling adventures for excited residents, chatting, checking in, generally making it a fantastic experience. You know it’s a great place when you can refer to some of the desk staff by first name after a few days. We had booked Wednesday and Thursday in advance, and finally forced ourselves to leave Sunday morning after extending for an additional 2 days. Beds were comfortable, free breakfast was decent, and large open lounge areas made it easy to meet and chat with people. There’s something about this hostel that just brings friendly, fun people together. It’s impossible not to find someone to chat with, whether a roommate or random person sitting in front of the tv. Just sit near a group, and before long you’ll be swapping stories about traveling around Europe, continuously adding new locations to your already long list of intended destinations. But before I get too ahead of myself, it’s probably time to switch topics.

The People

            As I began earlier, there’s just something about Balmers that brings together friendly people. We had 4 sets of roommates over the course of our stay who were all incredibly fun and friendly people that we could chat with during the day, swap adventure stories with in the afternoon, and unwind with over a drink at night. Our roommates included 2 Canadian sisters on a 3 month Eurotrip; two Florida med students on a two-week hurrah before graduating, beginning residency, and (for one) getting married; three teaching students traveling for a few weeks after student teaching in Germany; and an Oklahoma state meteorology student on break from studying abroad in England. It’s too much to try to explain about all the people we met, or attempt to detail there stories, so instead here’s a little flavor: brothers on break from work staying at Balmers on either side of a spring ski trip, study abroad students on break, people traveling Europe simply because there’s no better time than the present. The Balmers community is everything I could want in a hostel. I’m proud to say I have quite a few new Facebook friends from those days, and, let’s be honest, White People love Facebook. Some were already booking trips to Dublin and we made plans to meet up. One guy may be working at a hostel in Croatia this summer and could give me info. Meeting so many people from so many places with so many stories was unreal. At Balmers, you never have to spend a breakfast, day, dinner, or night alone.

The Days: Key point—I WENT PARAGLIDING!!!!!

            Again, there’re too many highlights. Day 1: incredible hike UP (as in, switchbacks directly up) a mountain to a gorgeous views of Interlaken, the lakes, and the mountains in the background; meeting someone at the peak that we’d seen on the train and chatting about travel and plans for Interlaken. Day 2: Cloudy, so perfect for a day trip to Lucerne; walking across the bridge, posing in front of the stone lion monument, touring a glacier garden, eating cake while looking at the alps across the lake; chatting with 2 Mormon missionaries on the train who are stationed in Interlaken, one of whom is from near San Francisco. Day 3: Horseback riding to the lake in the morning, paragliding (yep, that’s right, PARAGLIDING!!!!!) early afternoon, walking around Interlaken later afternoon. Day 4: Train to Lauterbrunnen, hike through a gorgeous valley, then up a mountain to Gimmewald, a tiny town that finds fame in Rick Steve’s travel guide; cable car, gondola, and train back to Balmers, exhausted but exhilarated from the amazing beauty and intensity of the place. Day 5: Buy souvenirs, say goodbye to friends, wish the staff goodbye, and board a train to Zurich with a new friend on his way to Munich.

            I will elaborate on a few points, because you may be impressed or at least interested in paragliding. And if you’re not, it’s my blog so I’m going to talk some more anyway. As mentioned previously, Interlaken is a hub for extreme sports. I’d decided against bringing my snowboarding clothes since it’s no longer peak season and the friend I was traveling with isn’t an avid skier, but we knew we wanted to do something. Two sets of roommates had gone paragliding separately on the two days before, and everything they said sounded incredible. We were the only 2 going with the tour company during our time slot, but paragliders had been floating through the sky all day. If you’ve never been paragliding and aren’t too afraid of heights, it’s probably worth going if you have the chance. It was much less intense than I anticipated. It was…relaxing. The guide is behind you and you’re both strapped to this massive chute at the top of a hill. You start running; there’s a tug behind you as the ropes tighten and chute begins to lift. Then, your feet lose contact with the ground and you’re running on air. The chute straps are outfitted with a seat, and you just float around, finding thermals to take you higher, higher into the sky, closer to the peaks of the mountains surrounding you. On one side, rolling green hills dotted with scattered houses and clusters of forest; on the other, the snow capped behemoths: Jungfrau and its too neighbors; Interlaken spread out below, flanked on either side by the clear blue lakes that trail off into more mountains. I remarked about the clarity and blue brilliance of the water to my guide, who told me that the lakes are actually too clean and fish populations are suffering because they have nothing to eat. America is filled with toxic rivers producing mutant fish, while Interlaken’s lakes are too clean. The ride finished with roller coaster-esque spirals. It’s amazing how high you can go and how much you can see using only natural power of air. Definitely an unforgettable experience.

Me paragliding with a Balmers parachute: how perfect!

The Nights

            In addition to my already extensive list of what makes Balmers amazing, it also is the location of The Metro, a star of Interlaken nightlife. Balmers guests, tourists from other hostels, and Interlaken locals mingle at night to enjoy happy hour, swap stories, and dance the night away. Erin and I liked the Metro because happy hour started at 9, which was much more compatible with our Dublin clocks that the hyped-but-non-existent Bern nightlife. Plus, being Balmers guests meant we didn’t even have to pay for coatcheck. Win for us.

            If you’ve never been to Interlaken, go. If you’ve already been, go back. I’m already looking at a way to get back in the summer when more of the hiking trails are open. Well, let’s be honest, I’m already looking at ways to move to Interlaken. Snowboarding in the winter, hiking in the summer, all amid the most gorgeous landscape I’ve ever seen? Yep, I think it’s safe to say I have a new favorite place, so here’s hoping I get back to Interlaken.

An update: Since writing this, I met up with the Canadian sister roommates in Dublin and booked rooms at Balmers June 10 and 11. 21^st Birthday in Interlaken here I come!!!!!

Interlaken: my favorite place in the world

Starbucks and the Invigilators

            It’s exam time at Trinity College. The final 3 weeks of April are dedicated “study time”, and then exams hit with a vengeance. The library is packed from opening to close, and pubs see a considerable drop in student visitations. All modules for the year are assessed in the spring, so some students have 6 or even 8 exams. Since I was only here for a term, I only had 4: Linear Algebra II, Biology 2, Counterpoint I, and Rudiments of Music. Of these, 3 are happily over. I have my last exam Tuesday, my final musicology paper to finish, and then I’m done!

            The first major difference was the time I had to study. Back at home, class transitions instantly into finals. I may have a weekend to study, or only a day between exams. Here, even with a week vacation to Switzerland and having my parents visit for a week, I still had another week before my first exam. This led to a special challenge: where to study. As previously mentioned, the library was packed. I’m not a fan of the library anyway because it’s way too quite and there’s no place to get coffee. Add to this the need to spend 40+ minutes searching for a seat, and it was a situation I’d rather avoid.

            I’d had success before studying at the food court in the St Stephen’s Green mall. It has free wifi, a coffee shop (though all espresso based, so not my favorite), and a good background volume created by enough conversations to create white noise without letting me focus on particular voices. Unfortunately, there aren’t any outlets, and it’s not the best place to sit alone for hours. What I needed was coffee.

            On the recommendation from a friend, we decided to try a Starbucks across the canal just off Baggot Street. I’m a fan of Starbucks anyway, so it wouldn’t have taken much to make me happy. This study space exceeded all expectations. First off, apparently Starbucks Gold cards are valid in Europe, which meant I got reduced price coffee AND a free refill, an obvious score. Next, this Starbucks had a second basement level with tons of outlets, comfy chairs and tables, little pedestrian traffic or disturbances; in short, the perfect atmosphere for extended studying. Once discovered, there was no chance I was letting this space get away. Consequently, I’m now known by multiple baristas, one of whom started bringing frappuccino samples down to my group of friends studying, and then let us pick the next sample flavors. If I managed to pass or do well on my biology exam, I dedicate that success to this Starbucks.

            Did I mention White People love Starbucks?

            You now understand part of this title. But what are invigilators, you ask? To explain, let me describe an examination experience at Trinity.

            Exams are conducted in large rooms throughout campus and on certain off-campus locations. Multiple modules are assessed at the same time. Before entering the room, each student must find his or her name on a huge list of seat numbers to know where to sit in the room. Visiting students have their own sections separate from the rest of the class list. It probably would’ve been nice to know this in searching for my own name. Really, it would’ve been nice if I’d heard of these “seat numbers” before my first exam. But now I’m basically an expert on exam protocol, so no worries.

            You can’t take anything into exams except writing instruments, an eraser (known as a “rubber” in Ireland), a non-programmable calculator (if required) and a bottle of water. Pencil cases are not allowed. Calculator covers are not allowed. Professors do not proctor exams. And it is here that we come to the second part of the title.

Invigilator: someone who supervises candidates during an examination.

That’s right, we don’t have proctors, we have invigilators. And if the name isn’t enough, they wear robes. They actually wear black robes to supervise our tests. I couldn’t decide whether I should have flashbacks to 8^th grade graduation or start imagining I was taking my OWLs. It probably would’ve been my best decision to just concentrate on the exam, but where’s the fun in that?

            

Bern Nightlife

White people love traveling and wine.

            I’m sitting in the Zürich Airport waiting to head to my gate for the flight back to Dublin. It’s been my best travel week yet, and I would stay in Switzerland forever if my bank account (and the Swiss government) would allow it. Since I’ve resolved to keep up with this blog (or at least make a better attempt), I’d better keep up on Switzerland before parents visiting (yay!) and exam studying (ugh) take over my life.

            Last time we left Emma in Switzerland, she was leaving Geneva and heading to Bern. Bern, meaning “bear” in German, is the capital of Switzerland. We (meaning my friend Erin and I) figured that the capital city was probably worth a visit. We arrived in Bern fairly late Monday and, with the help of a friendly train station employee, found our way to the HI hostel. We decided to take an easy night since we arrived fairly late and if we had been in Dublin, most pubs would be nearing closing. Even though it was 11 by the time we were settled and caught up on Internet, people were just getting ready to go out. Apparently, we weren’t in Dublin anymore. We learned from one of our roommates that Bern wasn’t a fantastic city to spend time in, but the nightlife was pretty good. Exhausted, we figured it wasn’t quite worth the effort that night. Instead it would be worth staying the next night to experience this great Swiss nightlife. We didn’t have any definite bookings until Interlaken on Wednesday, so we figured we may as well make the most of the time we had.

            The next day we toured the capital. First stop: Parliament. We handed over our passports and were shown up to the gallery, which reminded me of the House and Senate Galleries in DC, except I couldn’t understand what these people were saying (languages heard: French, German, even Spanish, but no English). We saw one legislator on Facebook, which pretty much made the day. After leaving the gallery, we tried to figure out if we could wander around the building. There were groups on tours, but they all seemed very organized (read: school groups which we were thankfully not part of). After wandering around through the main area looking very confused and semi-sneaky, a man came up to us and asked us if we had lost our group, first in German and then in English following our blank responses. We said no, just on our own. He seemed surprised to find American tourists in the Switzerland Parliament for no other reason than to see Parliament, but I guess we are just that kind of awesome tourist. Well then he said, enjoy walking around; and then he gave us some suggestions of places to go.

            We tried to find these places, unsuccessfully, before being asked by a security guard if we had lost our way because individual tourists were only allowed up to the gallery and then back out. I guess our helpful direction man didn’t quite have the same rule-book as everyone else. Yes, of course we were hopelessly lost and confused, not at all trying to wander around Parliament alone, and could she please show us the way out? We made it back to collect our passports and continued on.

            There are 2 exciting things about Bern: fountains and bears. Bern is a city of 100 fountains, and we made a game of finding (and taking imitative pictures of) all that we could. The bears occupy a reserve at one end of the city along the river in a sort of single-exhibit zoo. The bears were adorable, and two seemingly younger ones were wrestling and running and having a grand time, which of course was entertaining and awesome for us to watch.

            Other than these two highlights, we walked through a market, around a rose garden, and saw some great views, though no mountainscapes anywhere near as good as in Geneva. Our afternoon finished with an extended search for soft pretzels, which we had seen multiple times that morning but of course couldn’t find anymore. Later than anticipated, we headed back to the hostel to rest for the big night out. I crashed almost immediately and slept for 3 hours. At 10, we woke up and began preparations. We expected to see other people getting ready, based on the previous night’s activities. Last night was a Monday, after all. If Monday was exciting, why not Tuesday?

Well, no one was anywhere to be found, except a few stragglers in pajamas. No worries, maybe the school groups just had a big day tomorrow. We’d stayed an extra night specifically to go out, and that was just what we were going to do! We dressed up, made ourselves presentable, and headed to tackle the night. We had a few areas in mind and had read that around the train station was a good place to start, so to the station we went.

            And we wandered, and wandered. To the left of the train station, to the right of the train station, in practically every direction imaginable. And we found nothing. Not a single bar or pub, not anything resembling a club, not even a late night store where we could buy a bottle of consolation wine. Nothing. A little disappointed and a lot amused after the hype of Bern’s “great nightlife” we headed back for a much earlier night than expected, resolved to head out early for Interlaken. After all I had heard about Interlaken, I was seriously hoping it would live up to the hype and make up for our disappointing (yet highly comical) “night out” in Bern.

            

Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun...

Let’s be honest, I fail at updating this blog. It’s not that I don’t have things to say. Really, I’m to busy making memories to write about them! Since my last post I’ve been in 6 different countries, experienced St. Paddy’s Day in Dublin, and attended Trinity Ball (that’s right, we had a ball) just to name a few. I’m going to try to go back and post about some of these things, but I don’t want to let being behind prevent me from posting anything. Long story short: Dublin is amazing, you should probably be at least a little jealous of my life, it’s been an incredible last few months and it’s only getting better!

            I’m in Switzerland this week. No, it isn’t spring break, and it’s not as if I never go to class, it’s just that Trinity…never has class. Students don’t have December exams, so all modules from fall and spring terms are assessed in May. To make sure students can do well (or at least that’s the explanation I’ve come up with, though it could also be a chance for profs to catch up on grading, as I have yet to receive feedback in most classes), these exams are preceded by a 3 week “study period”. According to one Irish student, it’s cheating if you keep up with reading or open books before this time. Since this isn’t quite my pattern, I feel okay taking a week away from studying to travel. So far, it’s probably one of the best decisions of my life.

            It’s been 2 days and I’m already in love with Switzerland. It’s not much of a secret that I love the sun. Dublin is incredible and the weather isn’t as bad as I expected, but I haven’t worn short sleeves outside my room since I arrived in January. My friend Erin and I flew into Geneva Sunday morning with no plans other than a general timeline of locations and a reservation for a hostel in Interlaken Wednesday and Thursday nights. We found a hostel, stashed our things in a locker, and went exploring.

            At this moment my love affair with Switzerland began, though the views of the alps as we flew into Geneva certainly contributed. The sun was absolutely glorious. For the first time since January, I walked around in a short-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and I was actually warm. Not “warm right where the sun is but still cold because of the wind”, not “it’s a good temperature and not rainy, just cloudy”, not “don’t worry it’s only Irish rain”: no, I was actually, finally, gloriously warm. I felt like a flower after winter, as if something had been missing or part of me had been hibernating and my body was finally recharging after months of never being quite 100%. I was done with classes, traveling, carefree, and in a blissful state of happiness that only the sun can bring about.

            We wandered down towards the park with the goal of hitting the botanical gardens. As if the sun weren’t enough, I finally am traveling during spring, so the gardens were blooming and beautiful. Everywhere people were enjoying the day: sitting with picnics, playing soccer and frisbee, walking along the paths and napping in the sun. I know Ireland is supposed to be green, and the Connemara region was full of beautiful and idyllic Irish scenery, but I think maybe Switzerland has it beat. The colors of green in the garden were amazing. Everywhere I turned, every step we took, brought another gorgeous site. And then before us, past the trees, I saw the sight that made me ready to move to Switzerland: before the garden was the water, sparkling in the sun, and beyond the water, the craggy, majestic, awesome craggy peaks of the alps. Snow capped the tops of many of the more distant peaks. Nothing could have prepared me for this sight. Standing in this park, looking across at ships sailing on the water, and gazing up at the snowy alps, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

            Before I left on this trip, my sister told me that she left her heart in Interlaken. We head there tomorrow or Wednesday and I couldn’t be more excited, but I’m a little worried that mine might already be stuck in Geneva.

PS  I realized that this wasn’t quite finished, as it needs a little tie in to the theme, so here goes:

            White people love snowboarding, and NOT to think about snowboarding when looking at the Alps.

            White people love 1^st world travel. We’re playing the part by carrying backpacks, staying in youth hostels, and (of course) riding in trains. White win for us!

A Stupendous Saturday

            Today I felt like I had a seriously Dublin day. I woke up to the sun shining in an almost cloudless blue sky, which of course thrilled me beyond belief. (I guess that’s not really typical Dublin, but it was still awesome.) Some friends and I had discussed going to some museums around town, but decided instead to find a place to do work outside so we could enjoy the glorious weather. St Stephens Green at the head of Grafton Street was filled with all sorts of people enjoying the sunny Saturday. We walked around, then sat on a bench and did “work” for a while (Janet Evanovich anyone?). It was still kind of chilly, so after a bit we walked into the mall to get lunch and warm up. After a delicious, relaxing lunch, we headed home down Grafton. Street performers are a staple of Grafton, and often you’ll see a crowd of people surrounding a particularly good act. I don’t know what it was about today, but it just kept getting better. We stopped in a large group of people to listen to this folk/reggae/rock Irish band. We ended up buying their CD, and are probably going to a show dowtown this Thursday. White people love Indie music, so how could we not go?! You may be wondering why this qualifies as a “seriously Dublin day”, and maybe you just had to be here. There was just something about wandering around and enjoying the fantastic Saturday. As we walked home in the fading light through Front Square and past the Campanile, I just fell in love with being here all over again, and I can’t imagine spending this term anywhere else.

PS  For anyone who’s interested, the band is Mutefish.

http://www.myspace.com/nonstopmutefishdance

Italy Part II: The Best Laid Plans

            So I guess I didn’t quite get this post up as promised later in the week. What can I say, I’m in Dublin and things come up. I have a ton of homework I need to get done now though, which makes it a perfect time to update my blog.

Emma’s Italian Adventure

            I met Emily at the train station in Genova, and then we took a train to Varazze where her cousin picked us up. It was pretty late by this point, so we ate dinner and then headed home to sleep. The plan was to wake up early the next morning (Saturday) and head to the mountains in time to go snowboarding the next day (white people love snowboarding), followed by an event/party that night. The next day we’d drive back to Varazze where I’d catch a train back to Milan to be ready for my flight early Monday morning. You’re probably admiring the brilliant plan at this point. What can I say, Emily and I are awesome planners. And, in our typical perfect fashion, we executed this plan flawlessly. Guess I’m done writing about Italy.

            Oh wait…

            That whole “early start” thing was the first little glitch. Get us up and dressed and fed, pack everything together, gather our other travel companions and it was close to noon by the time we got to the resort. No problem though, it would just be shorter day.

We arrived at the resort and were greeted by falling snow and minimal visibility. In short, it was close to a white out. After some debate, we decided to abandon our adventure plans and opt for lunch instead. Hey, at least we still had that night to look forward too.

            Emily and I were staying about a half an hour away from the resort, so we took a bus down the hill to take a quick nap and then change for that night. We had everything we needed for the party: our shuttle passes to get back up the hill, tickets into the event, and even a pass for our first drinks. Life was looking good.

            We were in the hotel lobby that night rested and ready to go. Some other people were there as well, also waiting for the shuttle. We were told it had just left, but would be back before too long. No big, it was early and we didn’t mind waiting. We even found a couple of Italians who spoke English pretty well, so I was set. We sat down with our new friends to wait for the shuttle.

            And then we waited.

            And then we waited some more.

            And then we called the shuttle driver to check when he would be back, and he hung up on us.

            Okay…

            I won’t bore you with the details, but no one from our hotel made it up to the party that night. The snowstorm kept us all grounded. So Emily and I went sulking back to our room where we remained angry and bitter all night for having our plans ruined. The end.

           

            That also would be false. Who cares if things didn’t go according to plans? I was with my best friend in Italy! We were in a gorgeous mountain town in the middle of a snowstorm with new friends! And we were going to enjoy that night!!!

We had dinner at a pizza place next door, and then hung around chatting with our new friends and sharing our vast knowledge of English idioms. I had no idea how fantastic a phrase “Keep an eye on it” is, but apparently it’s awesome.

The next day was similar conditions, but Emily and I decided to brave the weather and snowboard anyway. The shuttle once again wasn’t running, so we hitched a ride with a man and his 5-year-old son. We could barely see and were forced to stay on the same run, but we had a blast. Honestly, how could I not being in Italy, snowboarding in fresh powder with my best friend?

The moral of this story? When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

And when the going gets tough, the tough makes lemonade!

And for all of you who didn’t get that last reference, buy some jerkin orange clothes and go watch Josie and the Pussycats.

Getting to Italy: The Longest Day

January 28, 2011

This entry was written longhand while I was on the train from Milan to Genova during my weekend in Italy. More will come later about the trip following this introductory travel, but it deserves a post on its own.

            Today will be, as of yet, my longest day. If I count my flight to Dublin, then I guess today may only be second place, but it’s my life and I choose this as #1 since it was more continuous and (dare I say) epic than getting to Dublin.

            Today I’m traveling to Italy to see Emily V. My day began at 2:55 am after a refreshing 2 hours (or less) of sleep. It began with me wandering around Dublin, trying to find the Aircoach bus stop. (Thank you Aircoach website for being completely useless.) Along the course of my walk I wandered down to Grafton Street where I not only saw a bunch of drunken people climbing up to pose for a picture on/with Molly Malone, but also heard two Irish guys singing the Molly Malone song as they weaved by. The song transported me back to freshman year English with Huth and couldn’t help but laugh.

            I eventually found the bus stop and was relieved to learn that I hadn’t missed the bus that hour. I got to Dublin Airport and made it to London with no trouble. After a long (make that L-O-N-G) layover in London-Stansted, I queued up for my flight to Milan-Bergamo.

            A quick side note about the flight to London. I was early enough to get a window seat on my Ryanair flight and was asleep before the plane even took off. When I awoke, the sun was just beginning to rise in the blue sky over a fluffy frosting of clouds. The guy sitting in the aisle seat leaned over to take pictures of clouds. I can confidently say I have never seen (and don’t think I could ever again see) anyone get so excited about clouds. He repeatedly informed me that he loved clouds. Over and over and over again.

            “Look at these clouds.” (iPhone picture)

“I just love clouds.” (picture picture)

“Those are just great clouds, can you believe it?” (picture picture picture)

            Now, back to the London airport.

            As we’re standing in the queue I start talking with the woman in front of me. She’s headed to Milan for the weekend to visit her parents. I tell her about meeting a friend in Genoa and the different modes of transportation I have to take to get there. I think it was about this moment that she transformed into my Hero of the Day. She too had to go to the train station. I half-jokingly said I would just have to stay near her to get to the right place, and that’s just what I did.

            We sat next to each other on the plane (I had the window seat again; yay more naps!) where I was immediately struck by a horrible coughing fit. I could barely breath I was trying so hard not to cough (unsuccessfully I might add). If I had been sitting next to me, I probably would’ve glared at myself and resented the jerk spreading germs. Luckily for me, she only seemed concerned, rather than attempting to run away from the crazy infected girl.

            I fell asleep again. When I opened my eyes this time I was greeted by the sight of jagged peaks dusted with pristine white snow: my first glimpse of the Alps.

            It quite literally took my breath away, and I could only stare in awe for the final 15 minutes of the flight. Meanwhile, my seatmate told me about her trip taking a train through the peaks, and the history of a certain peak that had claimed so many lives before the current road was completed.

            We landed and deplaned, and I followed her to a shuttle bus, chatting about travel and such. She asked around to find the correct bus (in Italian of course) and even lowered my ticket price by combining it with hers. I think I owed her more than I paid, but she insisted it was fine.

            The ride between the airport and the train station was spent discussing education, comparing the health care systems of Italy, the UK and America (Italy wins, in case you were wondering) and talking more about travel. When we got to the train station, she led me to the ticket counter. The night before, Emily had taught me a key phrase to use when attempting to buy my train ticket. Instead, I had a personal guide to purchase the ticket, and I had to just pass over my card.

            I had about 25 minutes before my train left, so she took me to see the front of the train station. It was built during Italy’s Fascist period, and the emphases on masculinity and power are evident in the architecture. She then led me inside the train station and to my platform. It was only then that I learned her name: Valentina.

            I doubt I will ever see her again, but Valentina, who comes from outside Milan and has lived in London for the past 13 years and has an Australian boyfriend, was my hero today. I’m now on the train to Genova and will meet Emily at the station. Let my Italian adventure begin.

Stay tuned for the next installment of Emma’s Italian Adventure, coming to a computer near you later this week!

             

Howth and Immigration and Once, oh my!!!!!

I feel like I’ve been failing a little at this whole blogging thing, so we’ll see if I can’t get something short up tonight.

Classes are going well enough. Travel and life in Dublin is much more exciting. Last weekend some friends and I took the DART (think metro or BART) train out to Howth (which rhymes with “both” according to my guidebook). Howth is a coastal town located on a peninsula and used to be a big port city. Walking trails span across the entire peninsula. The four of us, being of the adventurous sort, decided to take the longest of the suggested walks. This took us first along the coastal cliffs. The views were spectacular. The sun glittered off the water at the horizon, but in addition there was one spectacular glowing disk on the water closer to us. It was almost too perfect and stunning to be a natural occurrence, so I think it was probably a leprechaun’s home. Unfortunately we had good weather, which meant no rainbow to carry us across the water and, thus, no pot of gold. A bummer, I know, but I think I preferred clear weather on a hiking day.

We followed the cliffs around until we reached a lighthouse at the tip of the peninsula. Up to this point, the path had been clear, clean, and comfortable. It now became a little more…messy. We turned in slightly from following the cliffs and found ourselves forced to cross big muddy patches. This was especially fun since none of us had hiking boots. I think I personally had the best situation with my 100% white tennis shoes. Needless to say, they are no longer pristine white. Instead they are nicely colored in at least 3 different shades of brown. We probably could have made a nice analysis of the different types of soil, based on the varying hues of mud still clinging to my shoes. The scenery was incredible, and I don’t regret the walk at all. Though we were sometimes hiking through foliage, we still followed close to the cliffs. At one point, we even took a slight detour to walk down to a beach. It wasn’t quite a southern California beach, but we did find striped rocks, which were pretty cool. (I should probably post a picture of one so this comment doesn’t seem crazy.)

Eventually the path turned away from the water’s edge to cut across the peninsula and bring us back to the center of town. This was quite an adventure. We forged our way through forest and field, navigated through still more patches of mud, and even snuck across a golf course careful to avoid flying balls stuck by golfers enjoying their day in a much different way than us. Personally, I’d take a hike and awesome scenery over golf any day. Of course, I’ve never actually been golfing…

In other news I am now legally permitted to reside in Ireland through June 30! I opened my bank account, located all the necessary paperwork, waited at the Garda for two hours, and now have my official immigration card. This would be exciting (and relieving!) by itself, but I feel especially glad to have everything in order since I have my first out-of-Ireland trip planned this weekend. I’m flying to Italy to visit my best forever friend and can’t wait! A word of caution to any planning European travel: while Ryanair is very affordable, it won’t organize any flight connections for you. However, after an absurd amount of time researching flights, I have connections booked through London to Milan. I leave Friday and come back Monday and am prepared to have an incredible weekend. Italy here I come!

In keeping with the theme of this blog, I feel like I should mention some white experiences. Now that my bank account is fully functioning I can use my new “chip and pin” debit card (because not everywhere accepts swipe cards) since white people love not having cash. I also had a very white night tonight watching an independent film, Once. (Independent film, singer/songwriters, it was a win on so many white levels!) I’d never seen it, but I would now recommend it to everyone. Of course, I’d be the first to admit that my enjoyment was definitely augmented since I recognized so many scenes in the movie! You know when he’s playing his guitar on the street? Well, that’s Grafton Street and I walk on it every time I have to go to the grocery store. And when he follows the thief into the park? Well, that’s St. Stephens Green at the head of Grafton. And when she goes to the music store to play the piano? I’m pretty sure I walked through that same area on my quest to rent a viola yesterday. Yep, Once is most definitely better once you’ve been to Dublin. This means of course, if you saw the movie and didn’t like it, you just need to come visit Dublin before seeing it again. Only then can you enjoy the movie as it deserves.

Well, I guess now I’ve tweaked the meaning of “something short”…

Emma Meets a Leprechaun; January 14

Yesterday afternoon was a welcome reception for all international students. At the reception, a group I'd been hanging out with started talking with Russell who's a Trinity student from Donegal in the north of Ireland (but still in the Republican, not in the part owned by England). The reception ended around 6:30, and we decided to go out for a drink with Russell. He led our group of about 9 to a nearby pub that has student drinks. Thus, the stage was set for the following story...

Emma Meets a Leprechaun

2 friends and I wandered down to the bathroom fairly late in the night. Ali and I waited outside while our third friend used the bathroom. We're having a nice little conversation through her stall door when out of another stall walks a little Irish man! He was probably 4 1/2 feet tall (I'm not even joking) and just tiny overall. He walked out of his stall and mumbled, "There are girls? I'm in the wrong place. I must be even more pissed than all of you."

Then the leprechaun walked out the door.

Emma in Ireland: January 11, 2011

            The great comedian Christian Lander informed me that white people love study abroad. As a good “white person”, I knew I had to embrace this opportunity. I of course wanted to combine this with backpacking across Europe and embracing first world travel, so I turned my focus to the European continent. Since my only language is English, my possibilities were further limited. Since I once visited England for a week, why not try somewhere new. You know, I’m a little bit Irish; I’m a fan of Garth Brook’s song “Ireland”. Why not try Trinity College in Dublin?!

            So, after a somewhat detailed application process (and an entirely too long waiting period for Trinity to actually accept me) I’m finally here in Dublin, sitting in my room looking out my window into the city streets and across to the main campus. It’s only orientation week so far, but it’s shaping up to be a good semester. Those who know me and my weather preferences will understand my utmost joy that we have miraculously had blue skies for most of the days I’ve been here. I know it probably won’t last, but I’ll take the sun while I can.

            I arrived last Saturday after a full day (couple days; day and a half? Dang those time changes…) of travel. I arrived at campus after everything had closed. In a display of my genius, I hadn’t thought ahead to find out how to locate my key once I got here. On the bright side, my cab driver didn’t want to leave me locked out of my building and so flagged down an American student who happened to be leaving, entrusting this random person to find somewhere for my stuff and help me get my key. Thoughtful of him, I know. What can I say, the Irish seem friendly so far. My new friend Sean (many thanks to you) and I then proceeded to drop my stuff in his room and try to find someone to help me get keys. The accommodations offices were of course closed, but we noticed a security guard in the courtyard of our building who was able (thankfully) to pick up my key and welcome packet from a front desk somewhere. I was in! I had no phone, no Internet, and no concept of location, but I had a key, some Euros from the airport ATM, and enough sleep from the plane to keep going for a bit longer. I saw a little of the city, found dinner, and then headed back to my new room for real sleep. Thus ended the first day.

            Sunday was my Grand Shopping Adventure. I had a lot to accomplish and so made sure to get an early start. I bounded out of bed at 11:30 then hurriedly dressed and raced out the door…or something like that. I was pretty sure I knew roughly where I needed to go, so I headed out. My superb sense of direction (thank you Meredith for letting me borrow it temporarily) and memory from the night before led me to Grafton street, a major shopping area near Trinity. My first stop was for a cell phone. Good news, texting to other Irish phones is cheap (often free) on my pay-as-you-go phone. Bad new: it’s been a long time since I didn’t have a full phone keyboard, and I will be THRILLED to get mine back in the States. No one said life can be perfect…My next step was a mall at the head of Grafton street. I found a café for coffee and a scone while I tried to figure out my phone (unsuccessfully at first I should add). I then headed to Dunnes (which I have no clue how to pronounce), your basic everything store, for the essentials (bedding, shampoo, etc.). Laden with packages, I headed back towards Goldsmith Hall. I was a seasoned Dublin pedestrian now and was confident of my direction…and then I was lost. Luckily, I was more mentally lost (didn’t recognize my surroundings) than physically lost, and I somehow ended up back at Goldsmith without any breakdowns or calamities.

            That night was the official welcome for the Semester Start-up Program, basically a weeklong orientation for Trinity international students. I met some other students in the courtyard of Goldsmith and we headed over for pizza, wine and welcoming.

            SSP has been good so far. We (the American students) are now experts on modern Ireland, Jonathan Swift, the art and architecture of Trinity college, the layout and location of Trinity, and a handful of other topics. Last night we went on a Literary Pub Crawl of the city. Two actors took us around to four local pubs and a couple other historic Dublin landmarks around the Trinity area. We heard snippets of Becket, Shaw, and other Irish greats (I probably should have added them to our list of mastered topics above). It was a definite fun time, and one I would recommend to anyone who isn’t ashamed to be immediately recognized as a tourist. My thought is, embrace the tourist identity this week since it’s hard to avoid notice traveling in a large group of American students. There’s a whole semester ahead of me to try to blend in.

            Today was a definite highlight and a destination I would recommend as (so far) the number one thing to do in Dublin. It also gives me another topic to add to the Mastery list: Irish sports. Today we traveled across the River Liffey to the home of the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). The Gaelic Athletic Association includes Hurling and Gaelic Football, both distinctly Irish sports played throughout the country. The stadium is impressive in itself, but the sports played in it are incredible! Seriously, go look up Hurling and Gaelic Football. You’ll probably be jealous you didn’t grow up in Ireland playing these sports. I know I was. More than just a sports organization, the GAA is also a huge promoter of Irish culture and has a rich personal history that weaves into greater Irish history. Written description isn’t doing justice to the GAA, so just take my word for it and book a tour if you make it to Ireland.

            Other than the highlights reel there have been a lot of café/restaurant and pub trips (since no one has gone grocery shopping…and we’re in Dublin!), though these will sadly slow down when the semester actually starts on Monday (must they??). Life is good and I’m looking forward to what the rest of the semester brings. I’m still Internet-less (I’m planning an exciting visit to technical support sometime soon) and I feel like I may be getting scurvy from a lack of fruits and vegetables (about which I’m only half joking; I miss you California produce!) but I’m thrilled to be here!