Belfast, Ireland

Yesterday, Apratim and I woke up at 6 in the morning to catch an early train to Belfast for the day. From there, we caught a coach bus on a tour around the northern part of Northern Ireland. (In case you didn’t know (I didn’t), Ireland is split into two parts: Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom, and thus doesn’t work with my awesome Eurail train pass and uses British pounds instead of Euros, and the Republics of Ireland, which is independent of England and uses Euros.

Along the way, we got to see a beautiful view of the Irish countryside:

The first tourist attraction is the Carrick a Rede rope bridge. It’s on the north-eastern coast of North Ireland, and the view from there was stunning:

The next attraction, the real reason we trained up to Belfast in the first place, was the Giant’s Causeway (the word ‘Causeway’ meaning: a raised road or path, as across low or wet ground). It’s this odd natural formation of rocks that look like a huge cobblestone road. See for yourself (I pay the fee and do the travelling, you reap the benefits):

I hope you enjoyed the pictures. The travel was extremely exhausting, though I’m proud of the result, and it gave me time to catch up on my blogging. By the time you read this, I’ll be in Paris. I’ve already been there, but I’m hoping to see and do new things. See you on the other side!

Dublin on St. Patrick’s Day

This is the first post that will be co-written with somebody – Ankita’s cousin Apratim, who joined me in Dublin, will be inputting his insight and comments on the events of the week.

Irish people apparently don’t care about Paddy’s day – it’s just another day off for them. That is, another day for them to drink all day, as usual. They do, however, party like mad the night before Paddy’s, leaving Paddy’s night for the tourists. After all, they all have to go back to work the day after Paddy’s day.

St Patrick’s day really begins with the parade. It’s utter madness – 650 000 people attended the parade this Wednesday to watch 3000 performers. They wear leprechaun hats, spray paint themselves green, wear green scarves and sunglasses, and in one case, a green leotard:

Even animals get in on the action:

People do anything they can to get a good view of the parade. Some brought their own stepladders and workbenches to see over the crowd. Others were just lucky:

Others yet were even more creative:

Luckily, I met up with my friends Guy and Casper from Galway/Australia:

The floats in the parade were really cool, with talented acrobats, musicians and machinists:

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Right after the parade, O'Connell street was evacuated and the city was packed with tourists and countrymen thirsty for their first Guinness. Of the hour. (That joke might be lame, but it was certainly accurate):

The girl standing beside me is a Montrealer / McGill student doing a semester exchange in England, who came down to Dublin for Paddy’s.

St. Patrick’s day was utter utter madness – there were just too many people to have fun. There was no standing room inside any of the bars – I definitely couldn’t imagine extending my arms out to get a good photo of anything in there.

It was awesome.

The day after St. Patrick’s Day (yesterday), Apratim and I decided to be good tourists, so we went down to get a tour of Trinity College (home of Hamilton, Beckett, Walton and Oscar Wilde) and to see the Book of Kells:

We saw Dublin city hall:

We went to visit the Guinness brewery:

where I learned how to pour the perfect pint:
 

Funny tagline – you don’t know how badly I wanted to eat here:

Apratim and I spent the day in Belfast today. I’ll post on it tomorrow, this post is already getting rather lengthy…

Galway, Ireland

Irishmen totally love to trick people. They’re pranksters, the lot of them. Three of them spent like 25 minutes discussing the “leprechaun problem”. When I told them it sounded like they were oppressing a minority population, each of them chimed in, without skipping a beat, that I “just don’t get it.” They all love calling me “American,” against my wildest protests. They call their behaviour craic, a ‘being Irish’ of sorts that’s similar to the Israeli pride and attitude I’m familiar with, and it consists of being a total joker and causing mischief at every moment.

Galway is loaded with several times the amount of craic Dublin has. Where Dublin is Ireland’s metropolis, Galway is the stereotypically jovial little brother you envision when you close your eyes and think of the country. Buskers line the cobblestone streets and the whole place just feels quaint. Though only a town of 70 000, it’s still the third largest city in Ireland. Bounded by the west coast, it’s the home to many tourist attractions and natural wonders… such as the cliffs of Moher:

Surrounding Galway is what’s known as the Barren – a string of never-ending rolling hills made entirely of limestone. If you didn’t know (I didn’t), limestone is extremely permeable to water. In the cold winter months, any water absorbed in the rock freezes, expands, and splits the rock into smaller pieces:

Thus, these mountains, from the wear and tear of thousands of winters, have turned into thousands of smaller stones which make up a beautiful landscape:

 
Galway had  much more to offer than plain tourist attractions, however – the pub scene is brilliant. (Did I used to say ‘brilliant’ before I left home? It’s so hard not to get swept up in their madness here…) I don’t mean we partied hard and drank harder than in Dublin – it’s just a different atmosphere. There’s live traditional Irish music everywhere, often lead by patrons who’ve brought their tin whistle or fiddle to the bar:

Even more incredible is when one of the other patrons decides to sing. Someone just gets a feeling, stands up, and starts singing a song. It’s amazing how immediately people around them react to it, shushing people around them until the entire bar is silent. And this happens all the time, maybe twice or three times an hour! It’s very similar to how the tamtams self-organize on Sunday mornings at Mount Royal park, and it really does reaffirm to me that music is a universal language.

When I first got into London or Dublin, the first question I asked was, “where is the best meal I can get around here? Which place has the best Irish Stew?” My question has always been met with confusion.  I now realize that this is a very Montrealer (Canadian?) kind of question. We’re very obsessed with the “best” smoked meat (Schwarts’z), the “best” midnight poutine (La Banquise), the “best” shish taouk (Boustan)… but this mentality apparently doesn’t leave Montreal. And… to be honest, that’s kind of disappointing, because one of the things I wanted to find on this trek was more delicious food (as if we’ve exhausted all of the ones in Montreal).

What I have found (so far)  is this traditional music scene. So, fine, nobody in Ireland knows where to get a good burger – but everyone knows which pub has the best music. These gems can be found, you just have to know how to ask the right questions.

Another interesting thing to note is that I’ve stopped buying fast food. I thought I was being frugal by eating for 5 Euros a day, but I was just putting crap in my body. (Even Subway is crap if it’s all you eat!) So I went to the supermarket and bought a loaf of bread, a bag of potatoes and a dozen hot dogs. It now only costs me like 80 cents a meal, cutting my cost by another third! The only thing that sucks is that I’m going to get sick of eating the same thing every day, but if you’re lucky, people will trade food with you. Some guy traded a hamburger steak for 35 cents worth of potatoes! I had myself a feast!
It’s also forcing me to learn how to cook, but the guys living here all have experience and cool tricks to make a quick meal!

There were other tours, and actually so much more to see. It’s interesting that I never heard of any of these places until Phil told me of them on the plane. (Thanks Phil!) If I could do it again, I’d have spent 5 days in Galway and 2 in Dublin, instead of vice versa! This city has really taught me to go with your gut and see smaller unknown towns instead of sticking to the metropolises.

Now it’s time for…. IRISHISMS!!?? (This needs a more evident title. How about:)

IRISHISMs

They have self-serve beer taps, with a digital display all over the place:

Pear flavoured cider:

Right now, I’m no the train towards Dublin for a few days to spend St. Patrick’s day. Ankita’s cousin Apratim will be joining me, and hopefully we’ll make our way to Belfast for a day or two to see what (British / Protestant) Northern Ireland is like. I’m supposed to land in Paris on this Saturday (the 20th).