Béal Feirste, An Uneasy Peace

While large group trips have a tendency for pitfalls, I would have been a fool to pass up a 40€ nearly all inclusive trip to Belfast sponsored by Arcadia this past weekend. To paint a clear picture, Béal Feirste is the capital of Northern Ireland and most notable for its connection to the conflict between republicans and loyalists which took place in various forms during the second half of the last century. We arrived a bit too late on Friday afternoon to do much other than enjoy a few pints but the next two days allowed us to take in several amazing and thought provoking sights. The main attraction of Saturday's outing was a trip to Giant's Causeway, an area of coastline north of Belfast known for its unique hexagon shaped basalt columns and a wealth of ancient Irish myths associated with the geographic features. Standing on the upper section of the causeway reminded me of the Cliffs of Mohr, except for how cold it felt when the wind was ripping. The clear and sunny skies, which for some reason or another have continued to bless us on these day trips, allowed the eye to make out the coast of Scotland in the distance. Scotland is closer to Ireland in that area than I had imagined, a further indication of the ties between the Ulster province and the U.K. that I have been reading up on in my history books. Following a brief stop for lunch in the seaside town of Portrush we made it back to Belfast in time to watch Ireland take the spoils of the match against England, 20-16. That makes Ireland 2-1 thus far in the the Six Nations. I found it interesting to see supporters of England in pub, though the large majority gathered there were quite thrilled with the Irish win. As for the evenings, Belfast has a vibrant night life, particularly in the university quarter. Those nights out were not the best I have had, but in general we had a good time and I cannot complain. Sunday got off to a bit of a slow start but turned out to be a brilliant day. Bill Rolston, a professor at the University of Ulster and avid mural photographer, gave a presentation explaining the significance of many of the murals around Belfast. The history and significance behind these works of art is remarkable and I found it interesting to see how murals have changed over the years in relation to the events of the time. I have a basic grasp of the riff between the various groups and their paramilitary wings in Northern Ireland but there is still much I would like to learn. Following the presentation, we boarded the bus again for a brief tour of the city to see a few of the aforementioned murals. A clear distinction still exists today between the republican and loyalist neighborhoods, highlighted by the massive wall dividing them and the fences, many topped with barbed wire, which seemed to surround many houses and buildings. While it has been over a decade since the Good Friday peace agreement, I still felt an air of tension in the streets. The city has made an effort to revitalize the communities but many buildings still bare the scars of years of violence and sporadic street fighting. The murals themselves, many painted right on the sides of houses, are true works of art. The republican murals are centered in an area called Falls Road, while the loyalist murals can be found along Shankhill Road, both in the West Belfast. Each are reminders of a time gone by, but also of the identity and tradition still held so close to the hearts of those who live there. For the time being there is peace, but below the surface I would conclude it to be an uneasy peace. On a lighter note, we concluded our tour with a stop at the Harland and Wolff shipyard, birthplace of the Titanic. At one time the shipyard was one of the largest and busiest in the world, but in recent years the shipbuilding industry has been in rapid decline in Ireland. It reminded me of the old Grumman factories on Long Island, a place that once bustled with activity but is now in disrepair and it's great legacy seemingly forgotten. Samson and Goliath, two of the largest gantry cranes in the world, still tower above the shipyard and serve as a reminder of great innovative men and the ships they created for more than a century. In general, I discovered that Belfast is a deeply moving place when you start to appreciate and understand it's complex history. I have only scratched the surface of understanding and there is still so much about this island I have yet to discover. I am without a doubt excited for what happens next. Cheers.

Photographs

Of Kings and Pounds

St. Paul's Cathedral

Prior to this past weekend, the only time I have had to show my passport was to convince the man at a Tesco off-license that I was indeed over 18. Needless to say, I was excited to head off for a few days in London after six weeks in Ireland and put that passport to better use. On Thursday evening we caught a flight to Heathrow and found our way via the tube to our hostel in Lambeth, an area south of the river Thames. I believe it was meant to be called the London Eye Hostel, but the address led us to a place called Journeys. Hungry at midnight in London? Try a train station. Imagine Penn Station on a night that the randoms come out while wishing you didn't miss your train; you get the idea. After a quick stop to take in Big Ben and the London Eye, Friday morning's first priority was finding an atm, a Barclay's atm to be exact. Finally, a bank with no fees; bring on the pence and pounds! Hardly do I want to know how that translated into US dollars. Pounds in the pocket, we saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and walked up to the National Art Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Oh, and when you have a moment, ask Erin Mooney for her picture of the Queen. We spent the remainder of the afternoon milling around the stores on Oxford Street and witnessed an awfully brilliant street show compliments of a Finn. That evening we picked up a few 2 for 5 bottles of wine and proceeded to destroy our corkscrew... epic fail. Rather disappointed, Conor, Brenna, and myself opted for a few cans of beer (6 for 5 this time, what a deal) and roamed the streets looking for someplace to eat. Guess what, we ended up back at the train station. However, my panini was excellent and there were fewer creeps to be seen. On a hunch from Conor we caught a cab to a place called the Wellington, which resulted in a bit of confusion with a taxi driver and a ride that took three times as long as it should have. Our intended destination was the Lyceum Tavern, where the pints were cheap and the conversation most enlightening. The rest of the group wandered in a bit later and we headed to an Australian pub called Walk About. Problem: we still had unopened beers in our jackets; solution: hide them outside and hope for the best. Seriously, don't try this at home, but they were right where we left them when we got out an hour later and I thoroughly enjoyed a beer on the taxi ride back to the hostel. Our touristy nature continued on Saturday with a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral and the London Tower. St. Paul's is an Anglican Church first constructed in the seventh century and it's dome is among the highest in the world, rivaled only by the Basilica in Rome. If you are looking for an amazing view and can handle all 530 steps, I recommend making/climbing your way up to the Golden Gallery at the top of the dome. The view was simply unbelievable, though it was hard not to notice all the cranes and construction going on in London. I wonder how the city will look in two more years when the Olympics are about to begin. We carved our way along the river's edge towards London Tower and, as I am sure many do, I discovered that the London Bridge is a lie and the bridge of legend is actually the Tower Bridge. At first glance the London Tower was not nearly as impressive as I had imaged, but you cannot deny the history so deeply rooted in the very stones of the castle. Two personal favorite moments were standing on the execution ground of Anne Boleyn and taking in the beauty of the Crown Jewels. That evening we ate at a Chinese restaurant (which loved us) and met up with John, another Fordham student studying in London. Conor and I called it a bit of an early night and made it back to the hostel after a long and misguided walk for a good nights sleep while the girls headed off to a club. Needless to say our ambitious plans for Sunday morning were postponed a bit, but we still managed to see the 9-3/4 platform at Kings Cross Station and the Abbey Road Studio. I will admit I am not the biggest Beatles fan, but as a musician I could not help but stand in awe and appreciate the creativity and brilliance that has come out of that place. Attempting to get a shot recreating the album cover proved a bit tricky, but in the end I think we captured a few that work rather well. At that point it was midway through the afternoon and we still had fourteen or fifteen hours to kill before our flight back to Dublin early the next morning. We caught the tube back down to Green Park and essentially moved into a pub called the Clarence. We were all out of money but still managed to eat well and have a few drinks. Two of Lauren's friends living in London, James and Victoria, met us there and several hours of random conversation ensued. For the record, they have both promised to visit for St. Patrick's Day. Last call was around 10:30 and after an improvised photo shoot by a phone booth we spent the last of our Oyster Cards on the tube back to Heathrow. Goodbye London? Not quite. This story is not complete without an account of the hours spent in the airport. For all intents and purposes, Heathrow shuts down between 11pm and 4am. Some of us managed to sleep on the floor, others of us were to riled up to sit down, and in general we all suffered from a strong dose of delusion. You just cannot make this stuff up. Would I do it again? Absolutely. In the end, I feel the same way about London as I do about many places I visit. The city has more to offer and discover than can ever be taken in over a weekend, but I think we made the most of it. With the tourist attractions out of the way it would be grand to spend a few more days in London, but time will tell. I find it hard to believe classes are nearly halfway over here at UCD and my spring break trip starts in a little over a week. Until then, I keep counting my blessings for the people and places I have seen and hope that when the smoke clears all these experiences will synthesize into something worth remembering. Cheers.

more photographs here

Good Cause Sake

A few weeks ago I heard a term going around campus: Rag Week. I thought to myself, what the hell is Rag Week? Probably just another excuse to get all kinds of inebriated on the UCD campus? The answer is yes, but in the name of good causes. Rag societies are student-run charitable organizations common on university campuses across Ireland and the UK. These societies put on a week long series of events once a year to raise awareness and have a good bit of craic. This week UCD Ents & Societies Charity Board put on Rag Week 2010 and had events like Quake Aid 2010, Foam Party, Headphone Disco, a Guinness World Record attempt, and a scavenger hunt, to name a few. I cannot say I attended any of them with the exception of Thursday evening's entertainment, the Saw Doctors live at the student pub. Seriously, check this band out. The Saw Doctors are a bunch of 50 somethings from Galway who have been laying down jams since the mid 80's, and damn do they sound brilliant live. The Saw Doctors came on around half nine to a packed student pub and before long the Irish students were dancing and singing along to every world. Not long after that, I couldn't but getting into it as well. There is nothing I love better than seeing a band I have never heard before and completely enjoying every minute of it. I wish I could say more now, but I am off to London for the weekend. Look for pictures from the gig next week. Cheers.

The Saw Doctors Live at Uni Pub - L. Cahill

The Saw Doctors

Bringing Back the Cup

Following nearly two years of legal battles and never ending court motions, the 33rd America's Cup finally got underway this past week in Valencia, Spain. Swiss defender Alinghi took on U.S. challenger BMW Oracle to contest for the oldest active trophy in international sport. This cup was unlike any the sailing community has ever seen, with each side building sailing machines that look like something out of star wars. With BMW Oracle building a massive wing driven trimaran and Alinghi constructing an equally impressive catamaran, I personally wrote off any interest in following the racing, convinced it was simply a senseless battle being two arch rival racing programs. What ever happened to the Louis Vuitton Cup challenger series and the concept of involving more than two teams into this glorious event? However, you cannot deny the great level of innovation or publicity the Cup brings to the sport of sailing. I am more impressed with the likes of Open 70's and the Volvo Ocean Race, but damn are these new AC boats cool. Sailing 18+ knots in 8 knots of breeze? Unheard of. While I did not catch race 1 earlier in the week, this afternoon I got the live feed on the AC website for race 2 as BMW Oracle showed the Swiss how it's done. If only I could have actually planned to head down to Valencia for the weekend. In any case, USA 17 went on to win the race after a very tactical upwind beat, successfully defeating Alinghi 5 2-0 in the best of 3 series. Three years, millions of dollars, hundreds of thousands of man hours... all down to two races off the coast of Spain. Certainly sounds a bit absurd to me but you cannot deny the level of performance and skill demonstrated by those on board and off. Now that the Cup is back in America hands (where it damn well belongs), I guess the real question is what turn this event will take next. Will we go back to the traditional monohulls that have so long been a staple, or will the future see the likes of the machines built for this edition of the Cup. Time will tell. In the mean time, cheers to BMW Oracle for bringing back the Cup. For a much more in depth race recap and tons of pictures and videos, check out the AC 33 website.

33rd America's Cup

Panic Prevention

Every so often I come across a song I cannot help but put on repeat for weeks, whether it be for a lyric, a riff, or just that feeling you get when something makes more sense than it should. In late 2007 that song was "Sheila" by Jamie T, a singer/songwriter from South London with a knack for the bass and those sort of clever lyrics that you cannot help but sing along to. His debut album, Panic Prevention, is in constant rotation on my iPod and I will admit I'm flat out obsessed. Shortly after I arrived here I heard he had a gig in Dublin but missed out on getting tickets before they sold out. Indecently enough, I actually came across a copy of Panic Prevention in a small record shop in Gorey a few weeks ago... was it fate? I stalked gumtree for the past few weeks with no success until two days ago when Lauren found two tickets. Jamie T and the Pacemakers, live at the Academy in Dublin? Put that gig in the top 5. The Academy is a medium sized venue just off O'Connell St and reminded me quite a bit of Nokia Theater in NYC. By the time the set started the place was packed and turned into a chaotic yet beautiful mess of sweaty bodies singing along with every word. Add the constant shower of beer from cups thrown overhead and you cannot beat the vibe. His live performance is shear brilliance, and I would argue he sounds even better than on the records. The set was a good mix of jams from both Panic Prevention and his latest album, Kings and Queens, which if you have not had a listen to yet I suggest you do. Keep spitting your rhymes Jamie.

"A lot of people around here, lost the whites in their eyes. See the lust inside your heart and now I wanna touch the sky"

Check it.

Time's Up Chief

It is strange how you can live somewhere for an extended period of time, yet still feel like you know nothing about the place. I like to believe I know a thing or two, but after two weekends of traveling and a relatively quiet week on campus, I was in a need of a few solid days in Dublin. Saturday in particular was a beautiful day to be here as Ireland took on Italy in the opening match of the RBS Six Nations rugby championship. The idea seemed simple enough; head to city centre in the middle of the day, catch the match in a pub, and try not to head home until after the buses stop running. I apologize in advance for the change in writing material with this post, but it went something like the following:
Eoin and I left Belgrove around noon and missed the number 10 bus by 10 seconds; waited thirty minutes for the next one. Push started a car for an elderly gentlemen, and decided then and there that it was going to be a good day. Walked around Trinity for a bit looking for a bathroom before meeting Ricardo, and Italian student also studying in Dublin. Ended up at O'Donoghue's on Baggot St. after trying four other pubs to watch the match; Ireland wins 29-11. Highlights there included the crazy mumbling guy, meeting Lauren's friend Liam from Australia, and trying to convince people to shut the door that kept letting in cold air. Enjoyed a footlong from Subway for dinner while the others went to Porterhouse, which we then discovered was actually the Port House. Headed to Hairy Lemon to kill some time and met Gareth and Laura, two local Dubliners in their late twenties. Gareth buys Eoin a pint, brilliant. Next stop: Hogan's. Went to get some chocolate from Dunnes and decided (good/bad idea) to get a hip flask. It made sense at the time, but after I bought the cokes to mix with the bartender followed us to the bathroom and Eoin and I were promptly kicked out the side door; all I got was a stiff push and the words "times up chief". We both got back in and Eoin bought a pint, but an hour later when I tried to they would not serve me and I was again escorted out by a bouncer. In my mind the entire staff was after me. Eoin got the boot next, but put up a bit more of an fight than I had and ended up spilling his new pint on the bouncer; arguments ensue. Have it be known, at the same time Ricardo was working on his own hip flask... . Quite disappointed, the rest of my loyal friends decided to leave as well and we headed to Féile on Wexford St. Ricardo and Eoin disappeared for an hour thanks to my awful directions but eventually got back. Highlights there included being serenaded by a man who we thought worked in the pub but then got kicked out himself for being obnoxious, the dance off between Eoin and Bridget plus an old man who tried to get in on the fun, being cornered by the same old man in the bathroom and having a spirited conversation about American politics, and finding a non-existent alley way to finish off the hip flask we had attempted two hours earlier. Convinced we had enough craic for one evening, we headed to Eddie Rockets where we met a random local named David who had a milkshake with us; Eoin scored a free bowl of chips, but a battle broke out between Bridget and Eoin when she knocked them to the ground outside. The battled continued verbally in the van on the ride back, but everyone made it home in one piece.
The big question is, what did I learn this weekend: Ireland is a force to be reckoned with in the 6 Nations, never buy straight coke in a pub and expect the bartender to think you are just the designated driver, and Féile is the place to be for cheap pints and a great evening out in Dublin. Hogan's? Maybe I will try again in a month. In other news, back to the grind with classes this week but I am looking forward to it. Perhaps next weekend I can get to the museums I planned on visiting and to Phoenix Park. It is hard to believe I have been here for almost a month now. Part of me feels like I got here yesterday and the rest feels like I have been here for a long time. I guess I am just trying to hold on for the ride. Cheers.

O'Donoghue's

Jude Law and a Semester Abroad

Galway, probably the best city in Ireland.

After a long weekend in the Cathair na Gaillimhe and the surrounding area, I can agree. There is more to say than can ever be spoken about the sights and pubs and things that transpired, so I will start with the basics. For those who may not know, Galway is located on the west coast of Ireland, nearly due west of Dublin. Our adventure began Thursday evening on a €18 return Bus Éireann coach out of Dublin, a ride which regrettably took nearly four hours. One of my best friends is studying at the National University of Ireland in Galway and I was excited to see her waiting for us at the bus station. Bridget lives in a flat in Gort na Coiribe, a student community ten minutes walk from city centre, and put the six of us up in her place for the weekend. That is a whole other story in itself. From my perspective, Galway offers a major contrast to life here in Dublin. The city is vibrant and alive with Irish culture. I won’t get into detail about the nightlife, but needless to say it is excellent. Pubs I recall include Hole in the Wall, The Crane, Taaffes, Quays, and The Kings Head. Seriously, stop by for a few pints and live music at any of these fine establishments and you will not be disappointed. We spent Friday walking through the city, starting at the university and ending up down on Shop Street in the city centre. If you are looking for a quick bite, don't miss Wards Corner Store. In general Galway is not terribly large, but there is plenty to do and see in an afternoon. We contemplated jumping into a random fishing boat tied to the dock down near the Spanish Arches, but decided against it. Evenings aside, Saturday was the highlight of the weekend. I have no idea why it was there, but to our great fortune a Galway Tour Company bus headed for the Cliffs of Moher was parked right outside the flat in the morning. The tour started inland, stopping at various points of interest in County Clare and the Burren Region. Parts of the landscape felt like that of the moon and I wonder how people could have survived there. A few stops were better than others; I am almost positive the walk in a circle around the top of the raised earth mound fort was to see how much we drank the night before. Overall the majority of the places were interesting and it was grand to see a new part of the country. After the Burren, the tour turned west and headed for the coast to the Cliffs of Moher. Call it fate or whatever you like, but the clouds moved away and the sun came out for the hour or so we spent there. No words can describe the view. Standing on the edge of the cliffs with the ocean stretched out over the horizon the world felt infinite. At the same time you cannot help but feel small, somehow worthy enough for the chance to take it all in. I swear every place I go on this island is more beautiful than the last. The tour concluded with a drive up the coastal road back into Galway as the sun went down. Simply stunning. More shenanigans ensued that evening, and for various reasons we stayed in bed a bit longer than planned the following morning. All I can say is that we had a good deal of craic. Already wishing to return, we said goodbye to Galway on Sunday afternoon and suffered through a flat out awful bus ride back to Dublin. I think we stopped at every single town across the width of the country. That misery aside, this weekend was arguably my best yet in Ireland. Great friends, pints, beautiful places, and stories I am sure we will tell for a long time. I think we all asked ourselves why we are not studying in Galway on several occasions, but I have come to the conclusion that the distractions there are far to great. At the very least, the trip has given me the motivation to get to know Dublin a bit more for the tradition and culture that it has to offer. For now it is back to normal at UCD, if normal is at all a way to describe this semester. This place gets better everyday. Cheers.

Words can hardly due justice for the sights and events of this weekend.

Check out more photos

Further Reading: Galway Tour Company and Pub Guide