Day Twenty - 30/9/2012 - Cork

     Spent a bit of time walking around Cork city this afternoon.  While making a quick stop at Costa Coffee on St. Patrick's, observed a man playing bagpipes.  Their sound appears mournful to me.
     The group of us went to see a movie, Looper, today.  The Gate Cinema has movies for a fiver during the daylight.   The previews at the beginning of the movie featured adverts for local shopping on North Main Street, the street I walk down every day to get into the city.  There was a McDonald's ad claiming that they knew the Irish farmers, from whom they source their beef, by name.  Found out that the Irish film rating system is vastly different, and this particular film, which would have been rated R in the US was rated for 15 year olds in Ireland.
     The name "Cork" or "Corcaigh" in Irish, refers to a marsh or wetland, which indeed, describes the county quite accurately.  This has also made it home to swans, who live on the Lee and in the Lough.

Day Nineteen - 29/9/2012 - Midleton

     Today we, meaning the gang of Meng, Alex, Melina, and Andrew, took the train to Midleton, leaving Kent Station in Cork.  As we got out of the train station, we stumbled into a farmers' market.  I tried a sample of chutteny, which didn't really encourage me to buy a bottle.  One stand had various types of smoked salmon and I sampled a salmon that had been smoked and cooked at the same time, giving it a full flavour, and a chili-encrusted smoked salmon, which was heavenly.  Regrettably, I had only €40 left to my name and could not purchase any.  My bank account should open any week now.  The sport of commerce is a slow one in Ireland.  I did, however, acquire a €1 chunk of 70% dark chocolate.
     After some walking down main street and passing a confectioner's and antique shop, we arrived at the Jameson Distillery Gates.  The stone gate features an inscription "The Jameson Experience" which is how they have branded the tour of the facility.  We bought our tickets and waited in the reception area.  There is a chandelier crafted of empty Jameson bottles hanging from the rafters, casting brief green shadows on the wood floors.  When the tour was about to start, our tour guide came up and opened large double doors to a theatre.  The theatre was part of the old distillery and used to be the mill house before when the distillery first opened.  We were then shown a very dramatic, but uninformative film about Jameson and Son.  One interesting fact gleaned from the film was that the Jameson family had been influential in hunting and killing some pirates in their day.  To reward their efforts, the family was given an emblem of a small schooner and the phrase "Sine Metu" which means "Without Fear".  The Irish term for whisky is "uisce beatha", meaning "water of life".  The tour brought us through the oldest part of the distillery.  Irish whisky is crafted from three ingredients: barley, malt, and water.  We learned that malt is nothing more than germinated barley seed, a process completed by submerging the barley in water for four days, then drying it thoroughly.  The barley for use in Irish whisky is dried using smokeless anthracite, compared to barley for Scotch, which is dried using wood, giving it a distinct smokey flavour.  The tour continues through parts of the old distillery, including the barley house and grain storage.  The barley house has many windows as barley was known to spontaneously ignite in the hotter temperatures of the summer months.  There are metal beams that jut out on either end of the five-storey building that add structural support to each floor, allowing it to hold tonnes of barley.  The adjacent mill house is powered by a water wheel that makes use of Midleton's local river, the Owenacurra.  The water wheel has barley engravings etched into the ornamental casing on the side of the flat, wooden panels.  During the summer months, when the river was too low to power the wheel, a steam engine is used.  The steam engine was built in Manchester, and shipped to Liverpool, where it made the sail to Cork, and was pulled by horse and buggy to Midleton.  It cost an equivalent of €2 million.  The buildings that are standing today were in constant use until 1975, when the New Midleton Distillery was opened, the buildings that stand in the distance as you go on the tour, where Jameson and other Irish Whiskys are produced today.  In fact, all Jameson ever to be sold has originated from the Midleton Distillery.  Jameson is triple distilled in copper pot stills, used because of the conductive capacities of copper as well as the lack of negative reactions with the alcohol.  Once the wort mixture has been distilled three times, it becomes a spirit that contains 84% alchohol.  It is later mixed with water to be 80 proof then aged in white oak casks.  White oak casks are used because the tanin in the oak reacts with the whisky to give it the golden colour.  Jameson uses previously used casks to impart additional flavour onto the whisky.  Casks that held sherry are imported from Spain as well as casks that held port from Portugal, imparting notes of honey.  Casks are used up to three times before being discarded.  After a minimum of 4 years of aging, the casks are married, blending the sherry and port flavours into the final bottled product.  There is a law in Ireland requiring whisky to be aged a minimum of three years before it can be officially sold as Irish whisky.  Jameson sells a reserve that has aged for 12 years.  By that time, about a third of the whisky in the cask has been lost, due to evaporation and absorption into the cask.  The distillers call that missing portion the angels' share of the whisky.  This is part of the reason that older whiskys are more expensive, as more and more product is lost.  The tour ended with a complimentary tasting of Jameson, and Andrew and Melina got randomly selected to compare Irish Whisky with Scotch and with American Whisky (which is distilled only once, making for a much less smooth experience).
     We wandered around Midleton for some time, stopping at a bookshop before catching the train back to Cork city.
     Later that evening, we met up again to try the Franciscan Well, a pub on North Mall, just a few steps from my house.  They feature a number of microbrews that are produced locally.  I tried Rebel Red, an ale so named for the "Rebel" County of Munster (the south of Ireland) for which the flag colour is red.  Meng found her new favorite beer in Friars Weisse.  It has hints of banana.  It is quite possible that this will become my pub.

Day Eighteen - 28/12/2012 - Cork

     This morning, I made an omelette for breakfast, and had some Irish yoghurt with raspberries.  Irish yoghurt has the creaminess of Greek yogurt, with the consistency of Yoplait, and a delightful tartness.  It is also naturally low-fat and probiotic.
     I headed off to campus where I requested to reinstate the psychology modules that I had cancelled, as the department told me that I was rejected from then, and later told me I was approved.  Everything is grand now.
     Later in the evening, I saw potato farls at Tesco.  Being quite intrigued, I purchased them and fried them in oil for a few minutes.  After two minutes of dutiful frying, I had some of the most delicious potato pancakes man has ever tasted.  And I thought I was going to lose weight here.
     To finish off a night of potato over-indulgence, I read a book for one of my history classes about the potato famine.  Classes in Ireland are focused much more on reading and writing then they are in the US.

Day Seventeen - 27/9/2012 - Cork

     To Arthur!
     This morning I had my first psychology class, Abnormal Psychology, one of the classes I might actually get academic credit for!  The lecturer is a clinical psychologist from the UK who works in a hospital for the criminally insane.  He is surprisingly mild mannered.
     As Meng and I were walking back towards the main campus from the building, Meng stopped dead in her tracks.  I looked ahead, slightly confused, to see a fox gnawing on a bicycle wheel.  The fox didn't seem particularly healthy, and we went around the other side of the building.
     My next class, Introduction to Multimedia Authoring Systems, basically a graphic, video, and audio editing class, was at 1400.  We waited outside the room with a handful of people  but the 80 people who are enrolled in the class never seemed to show up.  Eventually, I realized that the other students waiting outside were international students, and we concluded that the class was moved and we didn't get the message because we were not a part of the email system yet.
     As might have been gathered from the first words of this post, today was Arthur's Day in Ireland, a celebration of Arthur Guinness, the "man behind the pint".  Arthur Guinness inherited £100 in 1752 from Archbishop Price, his godfather, which he used to set up a brewery.  He first started brewing ales in 1759.  The colour of Guinness is derived from the roasted barley used in the fermentation process.  It's "tanginess" originally came from mixing aged, ready-to-sell stout with freshly brewed stout.  Today, roasted unmalted barley is used to get the tang, but it is unclear if mixing still occurs.  Arthur's Day was established as the 27th of September in 2009 to celebrate the 250 year anniversary of Guinness.  It exists in Ireland as a large music festival (and a thinly veiled marketing scheme).  At 1759, a minute before six pm and the year in which Arthur Guinness first started brewing, the country engages in a toast, shouting "To Arthur!" from pubs across Ireland.
     We met up with some friends on South Mall, and our group, having just barely missed the 1759 toast, had our own toast in their apartment.  Our first stop was Crane Lane, one of the largest venues in Cork, but we couldn't get any information out of the bouncer as to who would be headlining, and they weren't letting non-ticket holders in until 11pm.  We ventured a few streets over to The Oliver Plunkett, and watched some adept tap dancers keeping time with an Irish jig.  We managed to make our way to the front of the crowd, and got to watch the local band playing there perform a mix of folk and rock songs.  Eventually, we headed upstairs, where another local band was playing "Whiskey in the Jar" to which many were dancing.  A group of 30 people or so in front of the stage got into a circle and started a sort of dance off, while pairs of dancers took the center of the ring, spinning around until new partners came in.  Dancing here was completely different from the US.  Just the composition of the group was radically different.  There were mostly 20 year olds, but there were some 30 year olds as well, dancing and enjoying the atmosphere.  The dancing was very inclusive and far less newsworthy than was dancing at home.  All things considered, it was great craic.
     We came back to Crane Lane at eleven, and found out that Ellie Goulding was playing, but that we still could not get in as it was full.  We went to the wine bar that was adjacent to Crane Lane, and I got some bruschetta.  The wine bar is displayed as an old pharmacy with vintage pharmaceuticals, colognes and perfumes, and other wares displayed on every inch of wall in the place.  It also features a wall made completely of empty wine bottles.
     To Arthur!

Day Sixteen - 26/9/2012 - Cork

     Had another 9:00 class, called The Nervous System.  Topics were covered at an alarming rate.  After that, I headed to the library basement to get my laptop registered for use on the wireless, which took over an hour.   Once I was able to go online, I checked my email, and received some very good news!  Despite being previously denied the Psychology classes I was planning on taking, the department finally reviewed my transcript and approved me for the original modules I was planning on taking.  This meant that I no longer had to deal with timetabling nightmares and that I did not have class on Wednesday or Friday.  The day got significantly better.
     After that, I had to head over to 5 Perrott Avenue to register for my module within the history department.  As with many of the campus buildings they are in residential buildings that look like any other house from the outside.  Once you enter, everything is quaint and house-like, but the rooms have been converted into offices.
     Back on campus, I registered for a travel discount card, and they took my picture with a handheld webcam.  My quite blurry card will get me a discount on bus and train fares.  Made stir-fry noodles with veg at home with Meng.
     Walking back towards campus, we stopped at Fitzgerald Park, a park that is practically part of campus, north of campus and on the banks of the Lee.  The park is named for Edward Fitzgerald, the first Lord Mayor of Cork, who was in office from 1901 to 1903.  He came up with the idea for an exhibition, and opened the Cork International Exhibition on May 1st, 1902.  Today, the original fountain stands, in slight disrepair, along with the pond and bridge from the original exhibition.  There is also a skate park along with a museum and busts of important Corkonians.  A relatively new rose garden was added to the park, serving as a memorial for those who died on the Titanic.
     The park is also featuring some modern art by various artists.  One exhibit was a tree, fully covered with shards of mirror.
     The park today was very calming, and the rain decided to clear just long enough to allow us to witness a spectacular sunset.

Day Fifteen - 25/9/2012 - Cork

     I didn't have class today until 18:00, so Meng and I met up with Alex and walked south of campus to the Cork Lough, a lake filled naturally by underwater springs and serving as a bird sanctuary.  We were approached by five immaculate and quite large swans as we approached the water.  They seemed to be expecting food, but receiving none, they were content to look at us pleadingly.  At one point, one of the swans came out of the water and walked around on his large webbed feet, a process which seemed very deliberate yet difficult for the swan.  They have this habit of swinging their tails laterally while keeping the rest of their body still.  We were entertained.
     As we made our way around the perimeter of the lake, the swans followed us, swimming in a neat line trailing a few meters behind.  There is a legend of the Cork Lough.  Long ago, there was a King named Corc, who had built his castle in a lush valley that was a mile in perimeter.  There was a spring on the castle grounds, and it was said to have the purest water in all Ireland.  People flocked to the castle to taste of the spring, and eventually the King grew tired of this and built a wall around the spring, enclosing it into his castle.  He had a well fitted over it, and locked it with a key that he only trusted to his daughter, the princess Flor Usga (which means "spring water" in English), fearing that his servants would steal the water.
     One day the King hosted a massive party, and invited Lords, Earls, and Dukes from around the land.  There was a bountiful feast with much wine and beer, but no water.  Eventually, one of the guests asked for some water, to which the King heartily replied, you shall have the best!  The King asked his daughter to fetch the water in a golden vessel, but as this was a menial task, the princess was embarrassed.  The King was not one to take back his word, but he also felt bad for embarrassing his daughter, and so he asked one of the attending princes to go with her.  The prince and the princess went down to the well, where the princess unlocked the well with a key.  She inadvertently fell in, and the prince jumped in to save her.  By this time the spring had overwhelmed the well, the pressure having built up over time, and the castle began to flood.  The spring gushed up so much water that it filled the current Lough, a lake of one mile in perimeter.  On really still days, you can see the rooftop of the castle just under the center of the lake.  If you listen very closely, you can hear the dinner guests still enjoying themselves, drinking and dancing.  If someone where to swim to the bottom of the lake and retrieve the golden vessel than the Lough would dry up and the King's party would end.
     On the northern edge of the Lough there are two fountains that illustrate the underground spring source of the lake.  We had a very relaxing walk around the lake, the birds following us nonstop.  As it began to rain, we sought shelter in the Hawthorn Bar adjacent to the Lough and got coffee.  I had noticed at some point earlier, but feel it pertinent to bring up now that brown sugar as it is available here is not the molasses kind put on oatmeal, but rather raw, unrefined sugar, that is commonly used in coffee and teas.
     Later that evening, I had my first lecture of Irish History.  The class was aimed towards visiting students, and the lecture covered The Great Famine.  After a very interesting and informative lecture about the event that completely changed the course of Irish history, I headed to Tesco to get groceries.  Needless to say, I didn't buy much.

Day Fourteen - 24/9/2012 - Cork

     Today was the first day of school.  I attended a computer science class at 9:00, and quickly realized that I was going to drop it as I would not receive any UC credit for it.  Immediately after, at 10:00, I had a structural biochemistry lecture but arrived late, as there is no passing period time here.  Irish students must choose a major when they enroll in college, and they begin taking classes in their major from year one.  Therefore, a third year student in Ireland has already taken two full years of coursework in their major.  Most Irish students have all of their classes in the same building, so the lack of a passing period does not really affect them.  This also means that each department makes their timetables without regard to the other departments.  As an international student, picking classes from different departments becomes a scheduling nightmare.
     Punctuality seems to be more important during lecture here than in the US.  When I entered the lecture hall late, the whole room stared at me.  Luckily, I'll be dropping the class before this one.  Lecture was fairly typical, and I was amused by the way my structural biochemistry professor pronounced "amino" (a-mine-o) and "methyl" (mee-thill).
     After class, Meng and I explored some of the greenery around campus, discovering Mardyke walk, which featured a small bridge spanning the River Lee.  It seemed to be a dog park of sorts, and as we were wandering along the banks, we realized that this very scenic route led straight to our building.  Future morning walks to school will be much nicer.
     Along the trail was a sign that explained the history of some of the nearby buildings.  There is a massive stone building built directly on the banks of the Lee that we pass by every morning that used to be a flour mill.  It is now used to brew malt.  Mercy University Hospital, which we pass by every morning as well, has two main buildings, a modern one, and an older, historical one.  The historical one, which, viewed from across the river, revealed itself as quite large, used to be the Lord Mayor's house in Cork, but was donated for use by the hospital.

Day Thirteen - 23/9/2012 - Cork

     The nuances in naming things from place to place can tell you a lot about the history of that place.  Oftentimes though, nobody knows how something came to be known the way it is known.  Such is the case with washing up liquid, the name for dish soap in Ireland.  It literally says "washing up liquid" on the bottle. After that discovery I had chicken goujons, or chicken strips, for lunch.
     Now that I had fully moved in, I had a view to rival Meng's.  We had our first bit of intense rain, but it ended abruptly.
     The truly memorable part of today came later in the evening.  Alex, who had told me of a certain weekly event at An Spailpin Fanach was returning for his second time, and I accompanied him.  At 9:45pm they opened the upper level of the pub, and a crowd of us marched upstairs, drinks in hand, to the dim, stone-walled upper room.  We all sat in chairs that had been pre-arranged in a large circle, and waited in anticipation.  Finally, everyone had taken their seats, and it was time to began.  A single male voice rose above the crowd in song, and the general murmur ceased at once.  I sat, captivated by the voice, and many stared somberly or closed their eyes while enjoying the song.  After he had finished, he introduced himself and the guest singer for that evening.  The club had only one rule, that no instrument be used except for the human voice.  The guest singer started the session with some folk melodies, which were quite beautiful.  Then, the coordinator directed some other members of the circle to begin a song.  Some were in Irish, some were comedic, others were tragic, but all were beautiful.  Many of the attendees were older, but there were a handful of young people and a few middle aged people.  During some of the songs, the entire room would erupt in song as the chorus was popular or familiar.  As the night continued, we worked our way around the room, and almost everyone in attendance was able to sing.
     The session ended around midnight, and I had my first taste of the real Cork.

Day Twelve - 22/9/2012 - Blarney

     On a surprisingly sunny Saturday, we set out to make the trip to Blarney.  Before heading off, I ran into my accommodations manager who let me know that my room was ready.  The topic of the day came up, and I learned that my accommodations manager is related to the MacCarthy's, the owners of Blarney Castle and House.
     With that bit of trivia under my belt, Meng and I met up with Alex at the bus station on Parnell Place.  We took the 215 to Blarney, and enjoyed a 15 minute ride through the rest of Cork city and more of the beautiful Irish countryside.  The bus system in Ireland is quite advanced.  Not only is it easily accessible and relatively inexpensive, but the buses are clean and on time.  When we got to the stop at Blarney, most everyone vacated the bus, and the sun stayed with us.
     After the conveniently placed (and abhorrently expensive) gift shop right outside the castle grounds, we bought our tickets, and entered some of the most expansive grounds I've seen thus far.  Ireland has surely earned its moniker, "The Emerald Isle".  As you walk through the massive, tree-dotted landscape, the castle rises in the distance, towering above the trees.  Although it is not impressive as a structure (it's rather boxy) the fact that so much of it is still intact is impressive alone.  On the approach to the castle, we crossed a stream, filled with Euros, evidently from wishes of previous visitors.  We happened to visit the grounds on a very quiet day, only encountering a handful of people in a place that sometimes has a queue of thousands.
     Near the castle is a smaller turret that originally served as the prison of the castle.  We ventured inside, where you could crawl into what would have been part of the prison, stooped 10m into the earth, in a small hollowed out portion of the rock.  Alex decided to give his very decent Smeagol impression a go at this point.
     Outside of the prison and adjacent dog kennel was the guard tower, still mostly intact save for the stairs.  You could see the breaks in the stone where the stairs used to be fitted, the three storey tower having been subject to some new masonry in the 19th century.  The original castle itself began construction in 1446.
     The castle is fully open for exploring, and a tour route/queue line has been built into the castle, allowing you to see all major parts of it.  The tour featured the grand hall, many bedrooms, the murder hole above the front door, and the kitchen.  The castle is transversed by means of two very steep stone spiral staircases, which have been worn extremely smooth from use.  At some points, the steps are only 4 inches wide.
     Once the staircase has been bested, one is greeted with a view of the seemingly infinite grounds laid forth beneath the castle.  As you work your way around the upper battlements, the famous stone draws near.  Kissing the stone is something that the staff there have down to a precise science.  They have you lay on your back, grab hold of two metal rods that were fitted on the castle to prevent people from falling, lean down as the nice old man (who has probably been doing this job for many generations of visitors) holds you so you don't slip through the castle wall.  They have a large metal box housing a camera at the perfect angle for photos, but they do allow you to take your own provided you stay on the correct side of the stone.
    After the obligatory stone-kissing (and feeling none the more eloquent) I ventured into the Poison Garden, located along the curtain wall jutting out from one face of the castle, extending the battlements another 20m.  The first plant encountered on the trail is the Common Box, a type of shrub.  The box's leaves cause vomiting when ingested, but part of the reason for the prevalence of such a plant all throughout Ireland is the folklore surrounding it.  Box shrubs were planted outside one's home as they protect against witches.  Witches, who have knowledge of many things, know the number of branches and leaves in every tree in the forest or any plant you point out to them.  The one plant they cannot count the branches of is the box shrub, because it is so dense.  When a witch tries to count the branches of the box, she inevitably loses count and must start again.  Witches only come out at night, so this undertaking would keep her occupied till morning, when the owner of the shrub-bearing house could look outside his window to check for witches.  The witch would be so preoccupied with counting the branches that she would never have time to enter the house and do witchy things.  The Poison Garden featured poisonous plants, everything from nightshade and mandrake to noxious flowers and poison oak.  There was even a sign for a marijuana plant (which was missing).
     Next, we explored the nearby rock close section of the grounds, which featured an array of short waterfalls.  Along the trail, and near the base of one of the waterfalls are the wishing steps, where legend has it that you will be granted your wish provided you think about it during the whole of your ascent up the stairs and complete the journey with your eyes closed.  The stone stairs are wetted by the adjacent waterfall, making things even harder.
     At the top of the wishing stairs is a rock chasm that forms a small room, named the witch's kitchen, where, if you come early enough in the morning, you may see the embers of the With of Blarney's fire still smoldering.  A short walk from the kitchen is the witch herself, encased in stone, said to part from the stone at night, when the park is closed.
     After a very enjoyable trek through the grounds, we finished off the evening with some food at the Muskerry Arms, a local pub with very good atmosphere that was certainly more agreeable than waiting for our bus in the cold.  I tried Beamish, having completed my tasting of the three main Irish stouts.  Beamish is more like Guinness than Murphy's, and I have since concluded that Murphy's is my favorite.

Day Eleven - 21/9/2012 - Cork

     Got my UCC ID card today!  I also began the long, arduous process of opening a bank account.  The Bank of Ireland has a student account with special rates and the like.  So far, I've encountered loads of student discounts in Cork.  After getting the administrative duties out of the way, I made my way to the student centre for the academic walkabout.  The various heads of departments made themselves available for students to consult and inquire as to the status of their registration.  Despite the massive crowd, things moved relatively quickly and efficiently.
     We returned to Cafe Serendipity for coffee and lunch, where I got cream of broccoli soup.  It was quite tasty.  Back on campus, we had a library tour, which was extremely redundant, and spent some time in the on campus shops looking for notebooks with the UCC crest on them.  I was unsuccessful in finding a notebook that represented the school, but I did find a giant cookie.
     This Friday was Culture Night, one of the many festivals in Cork.  Culture Night was marketed as a free, late night cultural exploration of Cork city.  Everything started around 18:00 and went till midnight.  Our first stop was 20/20, a fine art gallery, where black and white film was being showcased.  After getting some free wine, we watched a confusing silent movie about a with being burned at the stake but transforming into a metal cyborg and the fighting that ensued.  After that, we headed to the Cork Butter Museum.  The exhibit featured vintage butter making equipment, including a manual (meaning hand-crank) centrifuge that was used to spin the butter at 1100 rpm to separate the butter from the milk products so colour and density could be inspected.  I also learned that Irish butter gets its distinctive taste not from just the buttermilk content, but also because all butter produced in Ireland must have no more than 16% moisture content.  The European Union has guaranteed market prices for certain farm commodities, meaning that many countries will purchase huge surpluses of a certain commodity, such as butter, leading to "butter mountains".  The museum explained how this treatment of butter including the distribution of butter vouchers to people on government aid has shaped the economy of Europe.
     After the butter museum, we went to St. Anne's as they were allowing people to ascend the bell tower and ring the bells of Shandon.  Alex met up with us and we queued for quite a while in the church which had a spectacular stained glass window.  Eventually, we were allowed to begin the climb to the top of the bell tower.  St. Anne's bell tower features four clocks: one on each face of the tower.  They all show slightly different times (we got to see the clockwork responsible) due to construction of the clock system.  It is known as The Four-Faced Liar.  Around the third flight of stairs, we got to the upper chamber, where you could ring the bells, and I played out a tune from one of the songbooks near the ropes.  We began the 40m ascent which was made of very narrow stone stairs worn smooth from use.  We had to wait for others coming down to begin our journey to the top as the stairway was too narrow for people to cross.  As I emerged from the stone portal onto the observation deck, the city of Cork opened up before me, cast in the brilliant amber rays of the dying sun.  To my dismay, the battery in my camera was exhausted.  Some things are hard to capture in film.  The deck is open for use during the day, for a fee, but few people get to see the city from above at night.
     We stayed on the observation deck until they closed, watching the city gradually light up as night set in.  As we came down from the tower, we stopped at a small cafe near the church called the Four Liars Bistro.  It was a fancy little restaurant, but a bit more than we bargained for.  I got tiger prawns in lemon garlic butter (a relatively reasonably priced starter).  After the bistro, we walked along the River Lee, headed south to some of the pubs that were featuring traditional music.  After passing a live (and not so good) band playing outdoors on the Grand Parade, we made it to An Spailpin Fanach, a pub, but they had unfortunately cancelled the music for the evening.  Afterwards, we decided it might be a good idea to walk to Blackrock castle, but a local (unfortunately they are called Corkonians) told us we had at least an hour to go and it wasn't really the best way to walk at night.
     We wound up at City Hall, which was featuring some short horror films.  After watching our fill, we made to leave, and while waiting in the vestibule, the Lord Mayor John Buttimer of Cork approached us, and mistook me for one of the actors in the film.  Barely understanding him, we held a brief conversation, and he shook my hand.
     The night, still being young, invited us to return to Oliver Plunkett street, the main pub street of UCC students.  We went to The Oliver Plunkett trying to catch some friends, where a live band was playing, and I tried Hoegaarden, which was particularly citrusy.  We ended the night by meeting up with said friends at Crane Lane, where there was a small dance floor.
     My first festival in Cork and I already met the Mayor.

Day Ten - 20/9/2012 - Cork

     Orientation day two was at 9:30, and upon arriving late, I realized that the school clock was 15 minutes late (I had been introduced to Irish Standard Time) and felt much better about things.  After a long and thorough explanation of how to sign up for classes, some of the UC students headed off to get coffee.  We stopped at Cafe Serendipity on Western road.  I got a double macchiato with seafood chowder.  I was amazed at how much seafood was in my chowder.  There was at least half of a salmon and half of some whitefish, 4 mussels, and squid, along with a creamy soup.  I will most likely return.

     We headed off to the English Market next.  The English Market in Cork is a large, enclosed farmer's market of sorts with multiple entrances and individual stands within.  It was established in 1788 by Protestants, lending it the "English" designation.  An Irish market arose in 1840, St. Peter's Market, when the Catholic majority took over the city government.  The Irish market is now the Bodega Bar on Cornmarket Street.  It had burned down in 1980, and was rebuilt around the now central fountain.  I bought some sausages, scones, and a sourdough baguette.
     After picking up some Guinness Extra Stout and Italian pinot grigio, I stopped at a haircut place to finally tame my mane.  One of the maintenance guys at my apartment commented on my haircut, seemingly afraid that he had offended me by earlier calling me "Ronald MacDonald".  He recognized from my hair colour that I was Scottish, informing me of the association of Scottish people with tough, bitter fighters.  (This stereotype did explain some of the looks I've been getting).  Noticing the six-pack of Guinness Extra Stout in my hand, he told me to drink the lot of them and I would wake up in the morning ready to take on anything.  I decided not to heed his advice.
     Later that evening, Meng and I walked north to Dominick Street to visit the Butter Museum, but it had closed for the day.  Instead we did a walking tour of the area of the city just north of us.  We walked to St. Anne's Cathedral, home to a lofty bell tower with four clock faces.  There is a weather vane atop the bell tower that features a golden fish, called the "goldie fish" by locals.  Behind St. Anne's is St. Anne's Park, graveyard to some of the founders of the church.  Wandering the streets nearby, we happened upon some buildings that I had later realized were part of a complex of buildings related to St. Anne's.  The buildilngs, including St. Anne's, were all Protestant charitable institutions built in the 18th Century.  We saw Skiddy's Almshouse, which has residents today, an infirmary made of yellow brick, and the site of Greencoat School, which was demolished and Kinlay House was built over it, open now as a hostel.

Day Nine - 19/9/2012 - Cork

     Orientation was at 9:15am, which seemed awfully early.  I had Nestle Cheerios for breakfast, and realized that I shouldn't eat them in front of the box because I keep expecting chocolate in place of honey-nut deliciousness.  Then, I learned the walk to campus that I will be making frequently at unfortunately earlier hours.  Orientation was split into three days, and the first day covered social aspects.  We were told about the different clubs and societies available to students.  We met the Student Union Board, which is a group of graduates who are paid for full time work as advocates for the student body at UCC.  It seems that, unlike in the United States, clubs and societies are avidly participated in, and have frequent meetings.  The morning lectures concluded and we had a walking tour of the campus.

     There are two bits of lore about the UCC campus.  The first has to do with the seal, which is made in mosaic tile under one of the archways of the original building in the main quadrangle.  They say if you step on the crest at any point before final exams, you will either fail your exams or get pregnant.  If you're a male, then the outcome is clear.

     The second bit of lore has to do with the gravel pathways through the main quadrangle itself.  When UCC was first established as Queen's College, it was one building, with the President living in the East Wing, classes and church in the North Wing, and student dormitories in the West Wing.  There is a gravel pathway that cuts through the lawn, connecting the West to the East wing, which connected the student dormitories to the President's office.  Students who were to be expelled from the University would be walked down this pathway by one of the President's staff, and so students today avoid the path completely, as walking on the path would mean you were likely to be expelled.

     After the walking tour, the group of UC students went to the student center to get coffee at the cafe on campus.  After that, I bought myself a sweatshirt with the UCC crest on it.  Walking around the city, I became aware of a rather curious fact.  The pedestrian crossing signs are very detailed here compared to the US.  Any sign that would be a stick figure in the US has feet, or a handbag, or hair in Ireland.  Back at home, I had ramen with pork sausage, tomato, and egg, then took a nap.  Tuna salad sandwiches for dinner.

     On one of my many trips to Tesco, I had picked up a package of Keeling's strawberries.  I noticed that, on the current package, there was a promotional deal for some cash prize or trip.  To be entered, you had to predict how many Keeling's strawberries, lined end to end, would it take to span the distance from the strawberry fields in Dublin where the strawberries came from to the Strawberry Fields in Central Park, New York, a tribute to the Beatles.  Meng and I measured each strawberry and used Google maps with longitude and latitude coordinates to calculate a grand total of some 221 million strawberries.  They announce the winners on Halloween.

Day Eight - 18/9/2012 - Cork

     Made my own version of Irish breakfast with pan-seared pork sausage, baked rashers, toasted soda bread with blackcurrant jam, scrambled eggs, and, of course, breakfast tea.  The International Education Office at UCC was holding a welcome meeting at noon, which I thought would be useful.  On the way there, we passed the main gates, a wrought iron gate with the University crest inlaid, and two impressive stone arches that control access into the campus.  The UCC crest displays a ship between two towers, representing Cork's status as a port where ships may always find safe harbor, a golden lion, the symbol of Queen Victoria (UCC was established as Queen's College), and finally three crowns arranged in a triangle on a blue background, the flag of Munster, the province in which Cork is located.
     There were many students from other EU countries who were here as part of the Erasmus program, which I gathered to be a language exchange program of sorts for students in the EU visiting other EU universities.  There were people from Germany, France, Finland, Denmark, Singapore, and a few students from the US.  I met a masters student from San Francisco and some undergraduates from Colorado.  After the welcome meeting, which gave me a slightly better idea of what I was getting into but really just let me know that I needed to attend orientation the following day, we had a walking tour of the city.  Our tour guides explained to us that nobody really leaves Cork without picking up some of the Cork accent, which can be hard even for other Irish people to understand.  They also explained that everyone in Cork speaks very fast, and there is loads of slang.  People in Ireland are always saying, "That was good craic" (pronounced "crack"), or "Let's have some craic", or "Great craic!".  It was explained that the country is not full of drug addicts but that craic is the Irish word for fun.  It was all great craic.
     During the walking tour, the best pubs and clubs were pointed out, along with cheap groceries and good places to buy bedding and the like.  While we were standing in front of the Courthouse, a popular meeting spot for people coming into Cork due to its relatively central location and proximity to many good pubs, we heard Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain" blasting, echoing up and down the streets.  Thinking it was some annoying teenager in their car, I turned in surprise to see a white van with a glass panel back containing a living room, complete with armchair, table, hanging lamp, and tea set glued to the table.  IKEA was printed in large blue letters along the truck.  Our tour guide pointed out in confusion that there was no IKEA in Cork, but only one in Dublin.
     The group of international students went to a place called Captain America's on South Main Street because they agreed to give us 2 for 1 lunches.  I got chile con carne, which came served atop a pile of rice, but was still pretty tasty (and spicy), and, like everything else in Ireland, came with chips.  Afterwards, we walked to Tesco express, which was a convenience store form of Tesco, and visited Alex, one of the UC students at Victoria Lodge, part of the UCC accommodation.  While there, we turned on the television and saw Spongebob Squarepants come in.  After watching for a few minutes, we realized the voice actors were all different.  Spongebob had been dubbed in Irish!  The Irish government has instituted a program in which Irish students must take 2 years of Irish in order to preserve the language, and in recent years it has become more popular in the larger cities to learn and speak Irish.  We concluded that the government must have paid to dub the show.  After Spongebob, Wipeout came on, termed Wipeout USA.  The show had not been dubbed, containing the original voices, but there was Irish commentary (which we could not understand at all) that made the show even more entertaining.
     That evening, the group of us returned to campus for a free movie night in a lecture hall.  They showed Once, an independent film made in Dublin on an incredibly low budget that won an Oscar for its music.  The film was set in Dublin, and I was able to recognize some of the streets and parks.
     We met up with some more friends from UC orientation, Melina and Andrew, and we all headed to a pub that Alex had been to before, the Flying Enterprise in Sullivan's Quay.  It was about 9pm when we entered,  which, as we quickly learned, is very late for food in Cork.  Most pubs serve food only between 4 and 7pm.  Luckily, the Flying Enterprise still had some sandwiches left.  I got a beef sandwich that came in quarters.  The presentation at most pubs and cafes so far has been phenomenal.  The pub itself is hugely interesting, and I will be returning for a more in-depth look, but it is a museum housing the remains of the sunken ship it was named for.  The walls have fragments of the ship, including blueprints and photos of the actual wreck.  Our table ordered pints of Murphy's with our food, so I got to try Cork's own brand of stout.  It tastes less carbonated than Guinness, with a wheat-like finish rather than a coffee taste.  It's called liquid bread.
     Afterwards, we went to Door 51 on Grand Parade, which is where a group of the international students went after the movie.  They had drinks deals for the students.  UCC has a Student Body associated nightclub that I have yet to visit.  What a different culture.

Day Seven - 17/9/2012 - Cork

   Slept in very late, and got more groceries.  After an early dinner of chicken salad, walked over to the University City Cork (UCC) campus for the first time.  We crossed the walking bridge outside our building to get to Grenville Place, which leads to an abandoned building that evidently served as the private residence of George Boole, the inventor of Boolean geometry.  He is widely regarded to the father of computer science.  He was honored for his work by being appointed as the first professor of mathematics at UCC, then called Queen's College, Cork.  Professor has a different meaning in Europe than it does in the US.  A professor is a much more distinguished title given to very few lecturers at a University.  A professor is likely to be the head of their department, with dozens of publications.  We continued past the river to Mardyke walk, and walked west past the Mardyke arena and fields, the athletic facility owned by UCC.  The facility is massive, with an indoor pool and spa, and workout and activity rooms.  There are two main types of student groups at UCC, clubs and societies.  Clubs are sports, which range from the normal sports of football (soccer), American football, swimming, etc, to ultimate frisbee to traditional Irish sports, including hurling (like hockey with a baseball and no skates), camogie (women's hurling), Gaelic football (played with hands and feet), handball (with a wall and ball), and rounders (like baseball).  For reasons I have not yet discerned, the logo for UCC Clubs is a skull and crossbones, and shows up everywhere from sweatshirts to banners on the athletic field.  Societies are what would be called a club in the United States, and also vary widely.  There is a hot beverages appreciation club (which I plan on joining - each meeting has "biscuits" which are essentially cookies).
     Continuing down the road, we eventually came to the Western Gateway Building, which mirrored the modern architecture of many buildings at UCSD.  Around the building were a few small bridges across the River Lee which flows throughout the grounds of the entire campus.  As it was getting dark, we returned home without seeing the rest of the campus.
     On the return trip home, I noticed something very curious about the River Lee.  When we had left in the morning, the river had been very low, near the bottom of its bed, about a meter deep, but now, in the late afternoon, the river had risen to near the top of its channel, casting long reflections of the bridges that once had 3m of bare support poles.  This pattern of ebb and flow has continued itself for the past few days.

Day Six - 16/9/2012 - Cork

     First full day in Cork.  After waking up, walked across the river on a nice little pedestrian bridge to the south bank of the north tributary of the River Lee.  We followed the river east to North Main Street.
     Had breakfast at a really nice cafe called Tony's Bistro, which was done with the godfather movies in mind.  All of the specials were named after a mafia member from one of the movies.  I tried to order Irish stew, but they had run out, so I ordered a pizza with a variety of meats and sausage on it called the Vito Corleone.  Meng got a philly cheese steak sandwich.  After our food came to the table, Meng picked up the sandwich, and I picked up a piece of pizza with my hands.  Everyone in the restaurant stopped eating and stared at us.  After picking up on this, we decided to use a knife and fork to cut pizza and a philly cheese steak sandwich.  It was messy, to say the least.  It seems that there is a higher standard level of politeness in Ireland, from table manners to street conduct to addressing those higher than you.
     Cut across Washington Street to St. Patrick's street, where many of the main shops are.  We shopped around the mobile networks, comparing O₂ and Vodafone.  Eventually signed up with O₂ and got my burn phone.  After getting the mobiles set up, with free texting to everyone, I headed over to Dunnes to buy myself some long-sleeve shirts.
     Next, we headed out to buy groceries at Tesco, one of the local supermarkets.  There is quite a wide variety of Irish food available in the supermarkets here, including knockoffs of familiar brands.  Cheerios here are owned by Nestle, and look slightly different.  Nutella, along with most other sauces, comes in a glass container, and most of the packaging here is recyclable.  There is a brand of potato chips called Walkers that uses the light blue bag with a yellow circle enclosed by a red banner logo used by Lays.
     Meng wanted to try a kebab place on Washington street.  There are loads of kebab places in Cork, as there were in Dublin, but so far, none of them have looked particularly good.  The place was called Tasty Kebab, and did not look very inviting.  The food was a strange mixture of Indian with Mexican seasonings and did not taste very good, but thankfully we didn't get sick.  We went to Daybreak, the equivalent of a 7-11, afterwards for more reliable snacks.

Day Five - 15/9/2012 - Dublin to Cork

     Had the last free breakfast in the Hilton in Dublin before heading off to Cork.  We decided as a group to take the Aircoach bus, which had a direct service to Cork for €15.  We split taxis to the bus stop on Westmoreland street, where we caught the 13.00 bus.
     The ride to Cork was on a relatively large highway, but the countryside was full of rolling green hills, separated by farmland, sheep, and cows.  Every 15km there was a dilapidated castle or an aging turret, and the entire 3 hour journey looked like the picturesque scenes one imagines the Irish countryside to be.  After 100km of the most green countryside imaginable, it got a little ridiculous.  We finally arrived in Cork, dropped off in St. Patrick's Quay (a quay was an old mooring post for the boats that used to frequent the river) on the River Lee.  After some confusion, which was eventually solved by giving up and willing to pay taxi fare, I made it to my future home on the North Mall.  The Accommodations Manager was there to meet us and told us about the residence.  The property was built in the 1700s, and most of the original building still stands.  We entered the inner courtyard through the old servant entrance (which is a very short doorway) from the front house, which was part of the original building.  There are three houses, the front house and the adjacent one which are connected partially by a second storey bridge, and a building in the back of the property, which used to be the servant's quarters, but has since been torn down and rebuilt.  The archways in the entry and the gate (which has been motorized) are also original.  The man who owns the property is an architect, and restoring it has become one of his hobbies.
     My room was not yet ready, so I am currently staying in the adjacent house, in part of the original building.  Meng is staying in the newer building (which is where I will move once my room is ready), and has a view of the neighboring properties that could have come out of the 1800s.  The background picture on this blog is a view from the entry, with my house on the left and the newer house in the background.  The servant entry is the door on the right.

     Now in the city of Cork, we set out to the streets to explore.  We wandered up and down North Main Street, a street which marked the border of the old city.  The old city was bounded by North Main, South Main, and the two tributaries of the River Lee, which splits just west of the city centre (and literally on the grounds of University College Cork) and forms again east of South Main.  We bought bedding and the like from Dunnes Stores, and made our way to Sober Lane, a pub on Sullivan's Quay, on the south tributary, for dinner.  Meng got barbecue wings, which for €9 came as a huge serving, at least 20 wings in a bowl with a bucket of chips (or fries).  I got my first Irish hamburger, which was pretty good.  We got parsnip chips out of curiosity, which were actually quite tasty.
     Cork is like a small version of Dublin, with the benefits of a large city, but without the detriments of a large city.  The people here are much friendlier (and much more Irish) and the countryside is only a 30 minute walk away.  In Dublin, half the people you met were Irish and the other half were tourists.  In Cork, half the people you meet are Irish and the other half you can't tell, because they have the Cork accent.

Day Four - 14/9/2012 - Dublin

     Breakfast was at the hotel.  Breakfast in Ireland is always a lengthy undertaking, usually leaving one feeling quite stuffed.  I had Irish pork sausage, some bacon (called rashers here), toast, eggs, smoked salmon, potatoes (hash, fried triangles, and fried rounds), and, before I knew what it was, haggis.  (Google it)  I sampled black pudding (despite knowing what it was), and can now say that, four days into my trip, I had black and white pudding.  To be honest, it tasted like a grainy sausage, and really wasn't as distinct as I had anticipated.  I looked for Irish breakfast tea, but have not yet been able to find it (starting to suspect that it is an American invention), and so had some of the ubiquitous English breakfast tea.
     Leaving the hotel, we returned to St. Stephen's Green to get on the "hop on, hop off" bus again, this time to go to Kilmanheim Gaol.  (Kil- comes from an old Irish word that means church, so Kilmanheim means the church at Manheim, and Gaol is the Irish word for prison).  There was a museum and a guided tour that we took, which explained the rich history of the place.  It was restored in the 1960s by a group who was dedicated to preserving this piece of Irish history, provided that its use during the Civil War was not highlighted, as public opinion regards this as a black mark upon Irish history.  The cells of notable prisoners (most of them political) are marked with placards above the wall.  The prison was revolutionary when it opened in that it followed a new standard for prisons at the time, that of isolation and separation of prisoners.  Traditional prisons housed petty thieves with murderers and men with women and children in large, one-room jails.  Kilmanheim Gaol had individual cells with observation peepholes built into the door so the prisoners felt that they were under constant supervision.  There was a hole at eye level for looking in, and a lower hole at waist level, where a candle could be held, to light the interior of the cell.  The guards even went so far as to put pieces of carpet in front of the cell doors so they could sneak up on the prisoners.
     The main building of the prison itself is a three-storey gallery with a single point of entry for each floor and a massive skylight, to improve morale among the prisoners.  Each cell had a door with the aforementioned peepholes, but also an open hole cut into the wall adjacent to the door.  Kilmanheim Gaol was on a hill, away from the city, and so there was almost constant wind blowing in and out of the jail.  These holes were cut to allow for continuous airflow to circulate out the old air, thought to cause disease.  The walls were made of limestone, however, so they trapped moisture and disease was rampant amongst the prisoner population.  The main room of the prison is built with acoustics in mind, such that a warden could hear a prisoner making noise on the far opposite side of the gallery with ease. The prisoners were expected to keep quiet, and the acoustics in the gallery allowed the guards to enforce this rule.  The acoustics are so good that orchestras and some bands, including U2, have played concerts in the jail.
     In the older part of the jail, there is an exercise yard, which was really a 20m square of gravel, where the prisoners would exercise in the cold Dublin air an hour a day by being blindfolded, instructed not to talk, separated by gender, and told to walk in a large circle counterclockwise.  Near the exercise yard is the original gate where the leaders of the Easter Rising were brought into the Gaol, and a memorial on the place where they were executed by soldiers of the Crown.  13 of the 14 leaders of the Easter Rising were imprisoned from the GPO building, brought to the Gaol, and shot in a private courtyard.  Executions in the Gaol were usually by public hanging, which was a form of entertainment in that day, but due to the political nature of these prisoners, the British soldiers thought it best to execute them away from the public eye.  The last leader, James Connolly, avoided imprisonment in the Gaol due to illness.  On the day he was to be executed, he was transported by military ambulance to the Gaol, brought in through the gate still standing today, into the courtyard where his fellow leaders were shot.  He was told to walk across the courtyard to the place where his compatriots died, but was too ill to walk.  He was not even able to make it to the close side of the courtyard.  The soldiers tied him to a chair and shot him on the opposite side of the courtyard.  Today, two crosses mark the spots where the leaders of the Easter Rising died, one on each side of the dismal courtyard.  Once the public found out about the private executions, support for the Nationalists surged.  Public opinion was that the executions were an overreaction, especially in the midst of the war, and eventually fueled the Nationalist movement to victory.
     After the somber afternoon, we got back on the bus where it began to rain.  It's always raining in Dublin, and if it's not, then it's about to.  As we drove east along the River Liffey, I saw the red brick house that James Joyce's aunts lived in, south of the bridge attributed to him.  This house served as the setting of the dinner party in The Dead, a short story from the Dubliners.
     We returned to the hotel for lunch and many presentations about academic and cultural life in Ireland.  After an afternoon of presentations, we had dinner as a group for the last time at the Barge Bar on Charlemont street.  The entire pub is shaped like a barge, complete with internal ribbing and portholes.  It is situated along the river, and part of the outer deck is actually a barge of sorts.  I had more fish and chips, and tried brown sauce for the first time.  It is an interesting mix between sweet and tangy, kind of like barbecue sauce, but with much more vinegar.  After dinner, we parted with Hilary and Emily, who had been leading our orientation for the past two days, and they returned to Scotland, to the EAP United Kingdom Offices.
     Later that night, a group of us went to The Bleeding Horse on Upper Camden, which was an original pub, established in 1649.  I had my first Jameson, and after going outside for some fresh air, got carded for the first time.  The bouncer struck up a conversation with us, and we talked for an hour or so about California and school.  If you tell Irish people you are from America, you get a kind of polite indifferent smile, but if you tell them you are from California, they ask, which part?
     In the hotel room, An American In Paris was playing on Sky.

Day Three - 13/9/2012 - Dublin

     Took a cab from the hostel to the Hilton Dublin at Charlemont Place.  Cab drivers in Ireland have a placard in the cab with their name, picture, and license.  Our cab driver was named Edward Cullen.  I wasn't sure what to make of this.
     While checking in at the Hilton, we met Hilary, one of our orientation leaders, and became the first to arrive for the UCEAP orientation.  People slowly began to trickle in, and eventually all 19 of us arrived.  19 students from the UC system had elected to study abroad in Trinity College and University College Cork.
     Emily, Hilary's colleague, arrived, and we all had breakfast together at the hotel.  Then, we headed to St. Stephen's Green, a few blocks north of Charlemont Place.  We stood on a bridge a short distance from an old hotel behind some trees.  During the Civil War, this building was occupied by British soldiers while the Irish rebels took cover among the hedges along the bank of the river in St. Stephen's Green.  The Irish were outnumbered, and the short-lived skirmish was quite bloody.  During the fighting, the groundskeeper came to feed the ducks.  The legend is that the fighting on both sides stopped to allow the groundskeeper to fulfill his duties.  The Irish eventually lost the battle.  From the park, we got on the "hop on, hop off" tour bus that goes on a driving tour around the city.  All of the buses in Dublin are double decker, but this tour bus had an open roof.  The bus took us to the Guinness Storehouse where, the tour guide explained, stand 8 drums that hold 300.000 pints of Guinness each.  There has only been one death in the history of the brewery.  Many years ago, a worker fell in one of the drums.  Two of his co-workers jumped in to save him, but he bravely fought them off.  They say that he smiled on the way down.
     We got off the bus and returned to O'Connell street.  I got to experience the streets we had wandered just a few days before from the perspective of a larger tour group.  We headed to the General Post Office, or GPO building, which had a small, but very detailed museum in it.  Despite coming unannounced, the curator gave us a personal tour with his own commentary, including details on how he decided to organize the museum.  There was an exhibit featuring different types of stamps from around the world, and a little bit of history about how stamp collecting started.  When the post system was the primary means of communication, there was an agreement in place that international post would be sent to Switzerland, where it was sorted and fees were assessed, in order to avoid confusing conversions and multiple postage fees.  This meant that Zurich automatically received stamps from around the world, and began to collect and catalogue them.  Local post offices would send new stamps from their country to Zurich and would receive foreign country stamps in exchange.  While Ireland was still a part of the British Empire, they were a part of the British Post system as well.  People who supported Irish independence from the Empire would place their British stamps upside down in protest. When the Irish did gain independence from Britain, the Post Office immediately set about painting the red British post boxes green, to advertise their independence to the people of Ireland, and instead of printing new stamps, which was costly and time consuming, they simply stamped news of the Irish independence over individual British stamps until they could begin printing Irish stamps.  The GPO building played a part in Irish Independence as well.  During the 1916 Easter Rising, it was occupied by the Republican rebels for a week.  The museum has one of the twenty-odd original copies of the Proclamation of the Republic, which Patrick Pearse read aloud from the steps of the GPO building during the occupation.
     One of the lesser known stories of the Easter Rising that was related to us by the friendly curator was showcased by a film in the museum.  Due to the Post Office being the sole system of communication, it was normal for headquarters like the GPO building to be guarded by soldiers.  The soldiers that were guarding the building during the Easter Rising had guns but no bullets.  With the war effort and the extended bloodshed away from home, it was decided that the bullets could be put to better use elsewhere, so the guards stood with empty guns.  When the Republicans stormed the building, they fired upon the bullet-less soldiers, wounding one.  One woman who worked the telephones in the GPO building, refused to leave the building until the injured soldier saw his wounds attended to.  The leaders of the insurrection explained the political nature of their cause, and tried to reason with her.  She remained stubborn, but eventually struck a deal that she would escort the wounded soldier to the hospital down the street and return with him after he had been given medical attention.  The Republicans agreed to this, and sure enough, she returned later in the evening with the wounded soldier.  The Republicans allowed the woman to leave the building.
     The insurrection failed, the building was destroyed as a result of the fighting, and the leaders were executed.  However, the Easter Rising did arouse public opinion in support of the Nationalist cause, and eventually, in 1919, Ireland gained its independence.  The museum, although small, is very well done, and only charges €2 for admission.
     From the GPO building on O'Connell street, we headed south to Trinity College, where we entered the Old Library to see the Book of Kells.  This exhibit had much more of a museum feel to it, yet there were detailed explanations of the artwork and calligraphy contained in the text.  The actual books themselves were on display, and they flip the pages once every three months.  After seeing the Book of Kells, the museum route continues upstairs into the shelves of the Old Library.  There are spiral staircases spanning two storeys of books, organized first by size, and then by letter, running along both sides of an expansive hallway.  Select books were on display in the aisles, from natural histories of birds with detailed drawings, to liturgies, to personal diaries.
     After the Book of Kells, we left Trinity College and headed north to Grafton Street, one of the largest commercial pedestrian streets in Dublin.  Meng and I stopped at Insomnia, a coffee shop chain.  This place was an Irish version of Starbucks.  I got an espresso, and like most other cafes in Europe, you get a real mug to drink it out of.  I read part of my first Irish paper while we took a break from all the walking.
     Spent the next hour wandering St. Stephen's Green and admiring the huge archway that barricades the entrance to the park grounds.  The underside of the arch is inscribed with the names of the Irish who died during the battle.
     We had dinner with the orientation group at Milano's Pizza on Dawson street.  Got lost walking back to the hotel.  All in all, Dublin was still an amazing place.

Day Two - 12/9/2012 - Dublin

     When I woke up this morning, I met one of my roommates in the hostel.  His name was Michael, a Dubliner, or Dub.  After a brief exchange of words, he was surprised to find a "Yankee" in the hostel.  He proceeded to tell me that President Wilson was an Irish president, which was mainly the reason that he was able to end the war (Michael was happy to learn that I was not drafted), but that nobody in Ireland likes to call Wilson Irish, as he wasn't Catholic like the Kennedys.  There was some confusion as to which bed was Michael's, and after a 2am altercation, he decided that the hostel staff should be involved.  Michael was the type of older gentleman who would talk as long as you would listen, but I eventually made my leave.
     Meng and I decided to return to In Cahoots for breakfast because we found the atmosphere to be quite inviting.  I had my first European scone, which was surprisingly buttery, and Meng touted the sweet taste of Irish butter.  We stopped by the Tesco next door, a value supermarket.  "Buying Irish" is a big thing here, from 100% Irish milk (and beef) to Irish strawberries, and of course, Irish potatoes.  I bought a 2 litre jug of still water, as water seemed hard to come by unless you were willing to buy bottled water at restaurants.  In Ireland, you bring your own bags to the grocery, or you buy reusable bags from the store, because they do not have plastic, or even paper, bags available at checkout.  I've also noticed that all of the outlets have switches next to the plug, allowing you to turn off the outlet at the wall.  Between these observations, and ads that promote conservation, it seems that the green revolution in the United States is far behind the cultural norm of Ireland.
     After breaking out the map of Dublin, we decided to go see the National Botanical Gardens, which had received positive reviews from the hostel staff and some of the locals.  The hostel had a whiteboard of daily events, and we had missed the botanical garden trip by one day, so we decided to make the trip ourselves.  Interestingly, and impossible to miss from the numerous posters, Lady Gaga was playing in Dublin on Friday.  So far, all the music we had heard in the city was a mixture of 80's and 90's US hits  and traditional Irish folk music.  There was a mix of British, and of course, Irish bands as well.
     We took the number 9 bus north to get to the botanicals, but as we were waiting, it began to rain.  Dublin has some very useful electronic bus signs that tell you the time for upcoming buses at that stop.  When the bus arrived, we stood in anticipation, but to my dismay, the bus kept driving past us.  Confused, we waited for the next one.  Following suit from some local school children, I signaled the bus to stop and we got on.  When we arrived at the botanicals, the rain stopped and the sun came out.  We entered what proved to be an amazing park.  Not only were the gardens huge, at least three times the size of Balboa Park in San Diego, there were host to plants from around the world, and some well done displays about cellular life, the use of plant products, and Irish bees.  We stopped for tea after the garden trip and got a slice of raspberry cake, which went quite well with the tea.
     After returning to the area around the hostel, we walked down the River Liffey and followed it west to see Dublin's bridges.  We walked through the many quays on the south bank, passing the Ha'Penny, Millenium, Grattan, O'Donovan Rossa, Friar Matthew, Liam Mellowes, James Joyce, Rory O'More, and Frank Sherwin bridges.  Southward on Steven street, we passed St. Patrick's Hospital, which was built in 1745, and was the first mental hospital in Dublin.  It is still in use today.  We headed east through the south side of the Liffey, walking through the Guinness Brewery (missed the last tour by five minutes).  A lot of the original architecture still stands.  Over 3 million pints of Guinness are produced daily, and Arthur Guinness signed a 9,000-year lease, with rent of £40,00 a year, so the brewery has a promising future.  East of the brewery is the medieval area of Dublin, where we stopped briefly for some tea at The Food Gallery on Thomas street.  Thomas street became High street as we moved on, so named because it was the main street through the Viking Settlement in the 1200s.  There is one section of the wall from 1245 still standing near Wood quay, so named because it was home to the original wooden walls of the Viking settlement.  In the Medieval area, I marveled at Christchurch Cathedral, built in 1038.  The cathedral spans the street, forming a bridge above the cars.  Just across the street was Dublin Castle, built in 1204.  Unfortunately, they had closed for the day.
     We found an Asian restaurant on Capel street, which was surprisingly authentic (Meng ordered in Chinese).  We asked for napkins, and confused the waitress entirely.  We eventually settled on "something to wipe our hands".  (Later, I realized that napkins in Ireland are serviettes.)  After dinner we stopped by TP Smiths, near the National Leprechaun Museum, for a pint.

Day One - 11/9/2012 - Dublin

     After traveling for 24 hours, leaving Los Angeles at 8:45am and landing in Dublin at 7:05am the next day, I could finally say that I had arrived.  They offered tea and coffee as we descended into Dublin Airport.  It was a brisk 54 degrees Farenheit, and most of the people on my Aer Lingus flight (who were Irish) commented on how warm it was.  Meng and I took a cab to the city centre.  I started in terror at almost every turn as cars raced by on the right side of the road.  I arrived at my hostel at 61 Mountjoy Street.  The room was not yet ready, and so we asked the desk where to buy bath towels.  He recommended the Penny's on Parnell Street.  It was very similar to Mervyn's, if not a little bit cheaper.  After buying some towels, we wandered around Moore Street to Henry Street to Earl Street, which were all pedestrian only streets.  It started to dawn on me that Dublin is a very touristy city.  We stopped at a Bed and Breakfast called O'Shea's for my first tea in Ireland.  As I would later realize, service is slow in Ireland, but it gives you time to enjoy yourself.  It seems a crime to rush someone drinking tea here.
     Maybe it was just my timing, but Dublin on the whole seemed to have loads of construction.  The cobblestone streets in front of the stores and those comprising the sidewalks seemed to be in the midst of some major renovation.  It was surprising to see so much attention placed on the streets, but it seemed like an effort was being made to preserve things.  In general, Dublin is full of 300 year old buildings immediately adjacent to modern, all-glass storefronts across the street from a cathedral built in the 1700s.
     Returned to the hostel around noon as the rooms were ready.  There were just as many international visitors as there were Irish travelers from other regions.  For €20 a night, I couldn't complain, and I've slept in worse.  The mattresses, despite being two inches thick and as hard as plywood, were covered with a warm duvet.  The showers, however, left something to be desired.  The water flowed about as fast and forcefully as a leaky faucet, rendering the whole process of showering rather futile.  After a change of clothes (which did more than my "shower") we returned to the streets for more adventuring.  We found a coffee shop called In Cahoots which was literally a hole in the wall, but had pretty decent coffee.  The coffee in Ireland so far has been very dark, and if you ask for cream you'll get a strange look.  There is usually milk on the table, along with white and brown sugar, which is acceptable in tea as well as coffee.  By this point I was starting to get used to the pace of coffeeshops here, and quite enjoying it.  I still got a kick out of paying for things with €1 and €2 coins.    We ventured next to O'Connell street, which is the main street of sorts north of the River Liffey.  There was a huge stainless steel Spire in the middle of the street that stands over 120m high.  A cab driver later told me "London's got their Eye, we have that".  We continued to wander down Talbot street until it ended in Connolly Station, a massive train station built in 1844.  It had been misting on and off all day, and I would soon learn that it was always raining in Dublin.  After getting back to O'Connell street and passing the monument of the man it was named for, we crossed the Liffey on the O'Connell Bridge and entered Temple Bar, which presented itself as a tourist trap.  Turning away from Temple Bar and south down Westmoreland street, I set my eyes on the West Front of Trinity College.  It was impressive from the outside, but after crossing the threshold into the college green, my eyes were met with a breathtaking courtyard and a towering campanile.  While I was enjoying the architecture, I became privy to another of Ireland's quirks.  In an instant, despite the sunshine, it immediately began to pour.  We sought shelter in the theater building amongst Trinity students and waited for the nimbo-cumulus to pass.
     Heading out from Trinity, we walked west along the Liffey, passing what would become Meng's favorite bridge, the Ha'Penny Bridge.  This bridge used to be a toll bridge, which cost a half-penny.  We stopped at the Ha'Penny Bridge Inn, where I had my first Guinness.
     On the way back to the hostel, we stopped at a restaurant called the Kingfisher for fish and chips.  I quickly learned that English Mustard cannot be treated the same as yellow mustard as it has horseradish in it.  The tartare sauce, however, was delicious.  After a good dinner, we headed back to the hostel for some welcome sleep.