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May 12, 2009- Day One- Dublin

After a sleepless six-hour flight from Newark, we arrived in Dublin at 9 AM this morning and hit the ground running, so to speak. Leaving our bags piled in the lobby of our hotel, Joseph, Erin, our new friend Kaitlyn, and I, went to find the sweet nectar of the gods: coffee (Note to the reader: from now on, phrases like “we” and “our group” pertains to the aforementioned persons).

We found said blessing at the Insomniac Coffee Company, along with sandwiches and good conversation, and were energized enough to explore our little corner of downtown Dublin. Getting ourselves acquainted, we poked our heads in the value store, where I got this journal, and market square, where we saw a wide variety of Celtic jewelry and several rare books, such as a first edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses.

When 2:00 rolled around, we returned to the hotel to officially check in and catch a quick shower after over 30 hours straight of nonstop traveling. Feeling clean and refreshed, we walked with the rest of the group to the International Bar, a cozy pub with dark wood finish and colored lights, where we met our tour guide for the 1916 Easter Rising walking tour: a very energetic, entertaining, and politically incorrect Larkin Collins, who seemed unafraid to speak his mind as he showed us around Dublin’s important sites. Case in point: showing his barely-hidden disdain for Britain, he stated that he would never cross the road to dance on the Queen’s grave.

Anyway, we saw St. Stephen’s Green, City Hall, and Dublin Castle, all of which figured significantly in the 1916 Irish Revolution. Seeing the numerous bullet holes that remained in these buildings made the whole experience eerie—history was right there to see and touch. I loved the way that Larkin combined wit, humor, and sarcasm with serious bits of Ireland’s history, keeping the group’s attention to the very end. However, I didn’t realize how hungry I had become until the end of the tour, when we made our way to a pub to eat the stereotypical fish and chips and drink a very generous Jameson and Coke.

Afterwards, weighing the fact that we had been going for over 30 hours straight, our group decided to head back to the hotel, finding new routes of travel when we got turned around in Temple Bar. Hey, every trip with me, the directionally-challenged, is an adventure—just ask my fiancé. We had a rousing game of spades back at the hotel (I won, of course) before three of us went to the hotel bar for a nightcap. Now, it’s off to bed—it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.

May 13, 2009- Day Two- Dublin

We started out the day bright and early at 9 AM, off with Siobhan on a walking tour around the Viking section of Dublin. I must admit, the history geek in me cringed when I learned that, after excavating over 200 settlements from the Viking period in the 1960s, the Irish authorities decided to still build ugly office complexes on top of them, due to a lack of funds. Geek. Out.

The National Park Service and Smokey the Bear would not be happy about that at all. We did get to sit in a skeleton replica of a Viking ship and learn all about their settlement of Dublin, though—that made it a little bit better. Probably the icing on the make-up cake was Isolde’s Tower, an excavated Viking-era ruin that has not been destroyed or covered over by progress. Afterwards, we had the afternoon free to do as we pleased, so we did what most college students in Ireland would do—we visited the Guinness Storehouse to learn about the brewing process, the history of Guinness, and, best of all, to get a complimentary pint of Guinness in their Gravity Bar that overlooks the city. It was my first Guinness and first good experience with beer (i.e., the first beer I’ve actually liked, which is a little bit strange, considering how heavy Guinness is. Definitely not considered a “girl” beer. At any rate, I was a happy customer.).

After enjoying my pint, which had a cute shamrock drawn in the foamy head, we headed down to Kilmainhaim Jail with some of the PC contingent, where the British authorities executed 14 of the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising. It was a strange experience—we traveled through the 18^th and 19^th century sections first, which consisted of long, narrow, dank hallways with virtually no light and tiny, cramped cells that often held five to six people at a time. I can’t imagine how depressed the prisoners must have felt. Another tidbit of information that boggled my mind: often, the inmates had committed very minor offenses, like stealing bread or potatoes just to feed their families. It’s funny to me how much governments in the West, especially Britain, have changed since then, going from the laissez-faire style to partial socialism.

Moving on, we walked into the section of the jail that housed the late 19^th and early 20^th century prisoners. There was more light here, although it came from a scarce number of skylights. Also, we saw the grey, grim stone yard where the 1916 leaders met their end and where modern Ireland began, marked by two small crosses. Overall, Kilmainhaim was a somber place, but it was like heaven for a historian. That night, we traveled to the Portobello Pub for dinner, which was absolutely wonderful—carved pork, mashed potatoes, and vegetables, along with a half-pint of Guinness to wash it down.

Then, on to our literary pub crawl, where two actors entertained us in three different pubs with their interpretations of sections from the works of Ireland’s famous literary figures. Other than one sketchy drunkard who shouted obscenities and tried to take Siobhan’s umbrella, the evening was great. Subsequently, a group of us traversed to a pub to hear Irish music and see Irish dancing before hitting the town at the Ri-Ra Pub. We met some locals, who, after learning that Joseph and I were recently engaged, bought us four rounds of drinks: a Guinness, a Baby Guinness shot, and two Jameson and Cokes. Who says the Irish aren’t nice people? We poured ourselves into bed at 4:30 AM after a long night of fun and festivities.

May 14, 2009- Day Three- Dublin

This morning proved to be an ordeal after only three and a half hours of sleep. We hopped on a bus for a tour around some architectural sites of Dublin. The most exciting part occurred when our bus driver knocked a truck’s mirror off when he came too close to our lane—for most of us, it honestly amounted to a quick nap before we arrived at Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. I found the exhibit area more engaging than just viewing the book, although the book was absolutely beautiful—the exhibits explained the theological symbolism of the pictures and the process and importance of recording in Ireland in the Middle Ages. Anyone who thinks that the Irish are backward ignoramuses needs to see this exhibit. Basically, the Christian/Western world would have been up the proverbial creek without a paddle if it hadn’t been for those Irish monks who kept historical records and the art of the written word within their monasteries. Another opportunity for a history geekout, believe me—it doesn’t matter how little sleep I get.

After that, we were free to do whatever we wanted, so we grabbed a quick bite to eat before attempting to visit the National Museum of Ireland. I say attempted because we never actually made it—for some reason, I had the map again, I got us lost, and when a nice man gave us directions, he led us to the National Gallery of art. Taking this as a sign, we looked around the Gallery for awhile, taking in some interesting religious art. My personal favorite was a sculpture of the prophet Elijah carrying a complete Bible (Old and New Testament) and throwing tongues of fire at the prophets of Baal—very colorful and a bit comical. I think the artist took some religious license in order to support the cause of the church against heretics.

Deciding we wanted to hit up some big churches after our art escapade, we visited Christ Church Cathedral and St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Both oozed beauty, with pointed Gothic arches and soaring ceilings, intricate carvings, and vivid stained glass. They also held a lot of history for those interested (such as myself), boasting the resting places of the great military leader (and apparent cider baron) Strongbow and the Irish advocate Jonathan Swift, along with countless other military heroes, civic leaders, and powerful clergy.

Paying our respects, we headed back to the hotel, freshened up, and traveled to the St. Stephen’s Green area to forage for food. We found a Gourmet Burger Kitchen and enjoyed burgers and “chips.” Deciding to abbreviate our night after the last one’s adventures, we hung out in the hotel bar for a bit, sipping on a few rounds and playing cards before going to bed somewhat early.

May 15, 2009- Day Four- Travel to Cork

Today started with an early morning as we left Dublin at 8 AM for the countryside and Cork. We got some nice surprises when our new bus driver, Roy, told us he would take us to Kilkenny, a charming country town with a beautiful castle and churches, along with narrow, winding streets, lovely cafes, and witches’ houses. After a quick walk around the town, my group stopped in the International Sandwich Shop for a cappuccino and BLT’s, which were delicious.

I wish we had gotten to spend more time in Kilkenny and actually see more than just the outside of the castle, but we had to move on to catch our tour of the Famine Ship Dunbrody in New Ross. This ship represented those of the 1840s who carried thousands upon thousands of Irish away from the deadly effects of the Great Potato Famine. Starving to death and finding little hope for the future in Ireland, millions left and immigrated to places like the U.S., enduring terrible conditions and cramped quarters on the ships that bore them so that they could bring us things like green beer and Notre Dame University. I love the Irish.

Anyway, the ship Dunbrody had two actresses who vividly portrayed two women—one from steerage and one from first class. It amazed me how two people on the same ship could have such different views of the experience. Siobhan and Roy surprised us again with a visit to Waterford Crystal for lunch and a look around (I must say, these surprises were a welcome treat. Siobhan and Roy are the most awesome guides ever.). I was afraid to move around too quickly, for fear I would knock over an $1000E piece that I definitely could not afford. Nevertheless, I saw many gorgeous pieces that blew my mind, such as a huge grandfather clock and an Irish harp, both made almost entirely of heavy, handcrafted crystal. We browsed the extensive store, but I decided that, due to my past history of clumsiness and the likelihood of passing that trait on to my children, I would not buy anything.

Shortly after leaving Waterford, we made it to Cork, where we had a dinner of turkey, ham, and dressing at the Montenotte Hotel—good American fare. Since it was a Friday night, we decided to go out and see the town of Cork in all its glory, and we managed to find a snug, Bohemian-style pub that was set to close forever the next day. It was complete with low lighting and wine-bottle candles, from which wax trickled down the sides. In the spirit of the Irish pub, our little group swapped stories and had many laughs before catching a cab back up to the hotel to sleep.

May 16, 2009- Day Five- Cork

We began our day at the port town of Cobh, just down the road from Cork, where we were truly introduced to Irish weather. While climbing a huge hill (the likes of which have never been spotted in good ole South Carolina) to get a view of the town, a cold wind, laced with rain, buffeted us, nearly carrying Joseph’s hat off into the air, along with any body heat I might have accumulated. On the way back down the infamous hill (really, you can ask any of my fellow travelers), we peeked into the local cathedral, managing to interrupt what looked like a first communion service. I’m sure those people love American tourists even more than they did before.

Also in Cobh was the Queenstown Museum, which told the history of the port, especially during the years of the Great Famine, when millions immigrated from Cove to places like America. Queenstown also opened its arms to the victims of the Lusitania disaster and was the last port that the passengers of the ill-fated Titanic ever saw. Seeing pictures and reading personal accounts of all these major events in Irish and world history fascinated me. I can’t imagine enduring the horrid conditions on board the famine ships or meeting the victims of the Lusitania after they lost family and friends or hearing about the Titanic shortly after it departed.

Leaving Cobh, Roy drove us to Blarney, home of the famous Blarney Woolen Mills and the Blarney Stone in Blarney Castle. Left to our own devices, our group first ate a great lunch at a local pub, where I had a succulent shepherd’s pie and managed to spew ketchup all over Kaitlyn’s pants. In my defense, it had been refrigerated all night, causing the contents to contract until they expanded when I opened the bottle. And I’m not even a science major. At any rate, wanting to kiss the Blarney Stone so that we could talk our way out of anything, as well as removing the foot that continuously resides in my mouth, we went to Blarney Castle, a well-preserved set of ruins that I could have traversed all day. We climbed a narrow spiral staircase, with only a rope on which to hold—I avoided looking down too much. I thanked God that we were all skinny, as there was not much room to maneuver. We explored the various rooms and great halls along the way, imagining how richly decorated they were during the castle’s heyday. The views at the very top offered a substantial reward for our climb, displaying bright green fields as far as the eye could see, dotted here and there with small trees. Down head first into the murder hole I went, with a strong old man holding my legs so I would not fall to my death, and I planted a big one on the Stone, officially receiving the gift of gab.

After a quick rest at the hotel that night, Joseph and I met one of his longtime Montreat friends and her boyfriend at a local wine bar—she attends the University in Cork—where he caught up with her, while I got to know her. They took us to a microbrewery in the downtown area called Abbey Brewery, where I had a cool, refreshing strawberry cider. We bid them farewell and met PC people in the hotel bar, laughing the night away with drinks and friends.

May 17, 2009- Day Six- Travel to Galway

Another day, another bus ride. We first reached Limerick, but only stopped long enough for a photo at King John’s Castle and the Limerick Treaty Stone, which sealed the permanence of the Protestant presence in Ireland. Siobhan embarked on a combination of church and state history at this spot where the Protestant King William of Orange signed a treaty with the Catholic leaders and subsequently massacred them, and, needless to say, this taste of the violent checkered history of Ireland intrigued me. I listened, Siobhan.

We stopped at Bunratty for coffee and a picture of Bunratty Castle before making our way to the famous Cliffs of Moher. After seeing these, I can completely understand why the Irish want them named as one of the natural wonders of the world. Rising 700 feet out of the ocean, the cliffs consist of rough-hewn, dark brown rock, covered with rich, green grass and swept by powerful winds from the sea. These waters constantly crash into the cliff’s bottom, wearing away at the soft sandstone. I wish I could have seen this beauty at sunrise or sunset. I roamed all over the cliff tops, except, of course, where the fences blocked off the edges and brightly painted signs warned of impending death. Apparently, the winds are strong enough to sweep people off the cliff top and into the sea.

Hopping back onto the bus, we traveled to the seaside town of Doolin for lunch in a pub, where I had great seafood chowder and where Joseph met a waitress who had had a very long day. From there, we entered the mystical landscape known as the Burren, which, roughly translated, means “barren.” Aptly named, the Burren resembles a lunar landscape, with grey limestone worn away by the elements, creating numerous holes (glints and grikes, as the Irish call the collection). Joseph and I, glad to be in the fresh air and (dare I say it?!) sunshine, raced across the landscape, climbing and jumping over rock formations as we raced down to the rocky seashore. Much like the Cliffs of Moher, the raging sea repeatedly collided against the rocks, sending up sprays of foam in thundering booms. Neither words nor pictures can do this amazing place justice. I had to see it for myself to truly understand the natural beauty of Ireland.

We headed on toward Galway, stopping for one last photo at Dungaire Castle. I must say, I’ve really enjoyed seeing all the castles and ruins—it’s all part of the charm and ancient feel of Ireland and Europe in general. Arriving in Galway, we traveled to the city center for dinner. Kaitlyn had the great idea of Asian food, so we headed to an Indian restaurant, where I had stir fry and split a nice bottle of cabernet with my friends. All in all, a great choice.

Wanting to join in Brice’s birthday celebration, we met other PC people at the King’s Head Pub, where we heard a great band called Milhouse. They played Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rolling Stones, and Paul Simon, so they kept us Americans happy. I think my favorite part of this day had to be the amazing scenery—we drove along the southwestern coast of Ireland. From the vivid green fields to the grey rock fences, to the deep blue sea, I could hardly drink it all in. I don’t think anyone could ever tire of the landscape.

May 18, 2009- Day Seven- Travel to Derry

I wished that we didn’t have to leave Galway this morning, but on we went, stopping first at the famous poet William Butler Yeats’ grave at the Drumcliff church. Of course, Dr. Thompson about had a stroke, he was so excited. Not only were the church and grounds gorgeous, but the countryside surrounding them was absolutely stunning—high, treeless, emerald mountains flecked with nostalgic stone fences and patches of yellow flowers. After some coffee and a look at the bookshop, we traveled off the beaten trail (thanks to Roy) to the Glencar Waterfall, an astounding site nestled in the mountains by a river. We even found some sheep at which to gawk! We just don’t have these things in South Carolina.

We ate lunch in the seaside town of Donegal and stopped at the mountaintop fortress of Grianan of Aileach. In the days of the high families of Ireland, the Irish used it as a place to protect their cattle from raids, and they definitely made the right choice—from the stone fort high on top of a small mountain, I could see the surrounding land and River Foyle for miles. So, they would have seen invading forces coming well in advance of any attack. The fort served as a playground for us college kids, as we scaled the stairs to the top wall and received an amazing view for our troubles—high mountains, deep valleys, and the bright blue river surrounded the site. Did I mention how green everything is?!

We finally arrived at Derry in time for dinner and dined at the hotel. Then, we relaxed for the first time in a long time, catching a Simpsons episode set in Ireland. At ten, we had drinks in the hotel bar with the professors, and a good time was had by all. They have really done PC proud, and I enjoyed our time with them. Off to bed and out into Derry tomorrow.

May 19, 2009- Day Eight- Derry

This morning, Siobhan took us to the city center of Derry to tour their famous walls, which kept out the Catholic forces of James II in 1688. Walking on them was pretty awesome—we could see the whole of Derry from that height, plus we got to play with the original cannons that guarded the walls. Fun stuff. Moreover, we caught our first glimpses of the famous wall murals that grace one of the Catholic neighborhoods. I’ll come back to the murals later, as we would get a full exploration of them later in the day.

Taking a detour from the walls, we entered St. Columb’s Cathedral, a church that stood as a place of refuge for Protestants in the siege of 1688. Our guide in the church proudly showed off their artifacts from this period, including the original locks for the city wall gates and a first edition King James Bible. In addition to these historical gems, the church itself was very pretty, with exquisite, hand-carved pew banisters that sported different plants and animals. My personal favorites were the bat and squirrel banisters, perhaps harkening back to the PC squirrel population.

Cutting us loose to pursue our own paths after the Cathedral, Siobhan recommended a more detailed walking tour of the walls, which our group decided to undertake. The friendly and knowledgeable tour guide went into great detail about the importance of the walls in 1688 and the subsequent conflict between the triumphant Protestants and the Catholics, which boiled over in the late 1960s’ Bloody Sunday and Battle of the Bogside and sparked the beginning of the Troubles. With his descriptive words piquing our interest in the Troubles, we traveled outside the old walls to see the murals up close and personal. First and foremost, I have to comment on their harsh content and use of imagery to convey the story of the Troubles. They covered every aspect of those dark days, including the peaceful Catholic civil rights movement, Bloody Sunday, the rioting and petrol bombing, and the loss of innocent lives that these situations tended to bring. Probably the single mural that struck the sharpest chord with me was the image of the British soldier smashing a door in during a raid in a Catholic neighborhood. It really brought home to what low level the situation sank before it started to improve in the 1990s. To live in constant fear of false accusations, internment, bombs, and paramilitary killing squads is beyond the range of my innermost thoughts. I had a hard time understanding how this could have gone on for so long in a Western European nation during the modern age. Thank God it has come to an end, and brighter days have come to the people of Ireland and Northern Ireland.

Taking the twenty-five minute walk back to our hotel, we bought snacks and drinks at the local supermarket before vegging out for a bit in the hotel. We decided on Chinese for dinner and had a relatively low-key evening, hanging out in the hotel bar with PC folk later that night. For the next two hours, Joseph and I told and retold our hilarious engagement story to oohs and aahs, receiving a toast for a happy marriage from everyone gathered.

May 20, 2009- Day Nine- Travel to Belfast

We said our farewells to Derry this morning, traveling on to Northern Ireland’s capital city of Belfast. Of course, with Roy and Siobhan in charge, we made some fun stops along the way, starting with the Bushmills Irish Whiskey distillery. Unlike the Guinness Storehouse, which served more as a museum, on the Bushmills Distillery tour, we actually walked through the brewery, following the spirits as they transformed from something that smelled like beer to something that smelled like apple cider to actual Irish whiskey. In my opinion, everyone’s favorite part came at the end of the tour, when we received our free sample from among several choices. Joseph sampled the scotch, which came as no surprise, while Erin and I tried the hot toddy. As it was not yet noon, we didn’t finish our toddy—whiskey doesn’t taste so great in the morning. Funny how that works.

Moving on from the alcohol, we drove on to the Giant’s Causeway, the one stop to which I had been looking forward the entire trip, and it definitely lived up to my expectations. Perfectly hexagonal basalt pillars weaved their way down from the cliffs rising from the shoreline to the sea itself, leaving a myriad of rock formations and giving us college kids another playground to enjoy. As soon as I made it to the first rock pillar, I started climbing, hopping, and clawing my way to the top of every formation, earning me the nickname “spider monkey.” I very much deserved that one, and I will wear it with pride.

Racing Joseph out to the very edge of the Causeway, where it finally met with the sea, I won, managing to avoid the rough waves in the process. Joseph’s pants were not so lucky in that area. We played on the Giant’s Causeway for the next two hours, and I think I could have spent the entire day or even week there without ever tiring of it. It made it onto the list of “places in Ireland where I would like to camp,” along with the Burren and Siobhan’s house. Alas, we had to move on, but I couldn’t have picked a better ensuring destination than the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge. Crossing a chasm eighty feet deep to a small green, rocky island, the rope bridge offered spectacular views of the coastline—we could actually see to the bottom of the crystal clear water that alternated between icy blue and seafoam green. On the island, we could see for miles in every direction, with more rocky islands and sea as far as the eye could see. Of course, the infamous Irish weather had to catch up with us on our walk back to the bus. By the time Roy pulled up to let us in, the rain had completely soaked us to the bone, making the bus smell like wet dog. I felt sorry for Roy, as he had to clean up after us. We did buy him whiskey, though—that should make up for our mess somewhat.

Wet and exhausted, we finally made it to our hotel in Belfast, where we cleaned up and ate dinner together in the hotel. Deciding to wait until tomorrow to explore the city once we had learned more about it, our little group relaxed with Strongbows and Carlsburgs in the lobby before going to bed.

May 21, 2009- Day Ten- Belfast

Getting to know Belfast, we took a bus tour this morning with a local tour guide, who took us to some of the notable sites. We took a photo stop at the magnificent Stormont, home of the Northern Irish government and ire of the Catholics during the times of the Troubles. To serve the visual centers of your mind and to satisfy your curiosity, it actually heavily resembles the White House in the U.S. My favorite part of the whole tour was seeing the monument to C.S. Lewis, a native of Belfast, which showed him getting into the famous wardrobe of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (for those of you who have not read the Chronicles of Narnia, it’s only the most important piece of furniture ever in fantasy literature. Kudos to those of you who have.). I geeked out a little, as I am a huge fan of Lewis and that literary series and want to name my daughter Lucy after one of the main characters.

Enough about me—we tried to have lunch at the well-known Crown Liquor Saloon, but after encountering a waitress having a bad day, we ate at the bar next door, which served excellent club sandwiches. While my comrades declined to brave the finicky elements and took a nap, I embarked on a walking tour of the Belfast murals. While the murals in Derry focused exclusively on the Catholic side of things, the murals in Belfast, situated in the Protestant Shankill and the Catholic Falls Road neighborhoods, seek to show both sides of the story. I found that the Catholic murals focused on hope and rising above the low years of the Troubles, while many of the Loyalist murals were militant and aggressive in nature. This difference made me hearken back to a comment our Derry walking tour guide made: he stated that the Loyalists possess a siege mentality to guard against the threat of the Catholic majority, and it definitely showed in the murals.The most jarring one had to be the masked paramilitary member, who pointed an AK-47 at the observer who followed her wherever she went, much like the Mona Lisa’s eyes.

On a more uplifting note, our group signed the Peace Wall, a 20-foot high cement and steel monstrosity that separates the Shankill and Falls Road neighborhoods, leaving messages of hope and peace for better relations between the two groups in the future. This tour really opened my eyes to the reality that history is not dead here—indeed, for these residents, it occurs everyday as the tenets of the peace process continue to unfold.

Later on in the evening, we went on a pub crawl of six of Belfast’s oldest and most famous pubs, stopping for a Strongbow in two of them. As we had not eaten dinner, the drinks quickly went to our heads, so Siobhan, being the mother that she is, persuaded the Rhubarb Cafe to stay open long enough for us to get a bite to eat at around 10:30. Feeling revived, we made our way back to the hotel and got a great night’s rest, preparing ourselves for our last day in Belfast.

May 22, 2009- Day Eleven- Belfast

As we had a free day today, we slept in until 10:30 before getting up to shop at St. George’s Market. Taking me back to my younger days in Alabama, when I collected baseball cards, St. George’s reminded me of an American flea market, displaying all kinds of junk and treasure. As I had not eaten breakfast, I purchased two wheat farls for a pound and munched on these as I went up and down the long aisles of merchandise, everything from cheap jewelry, to WWII memorabilia, to old coins, to olives and fresh seafood. I completed the experience by getting a cheese toasty (a.k.a. grilled cheese) and tea for lunch in the market.

Continuing our shopping expedition, we walked to the Victoria Square Shopping Mall, which vouched the usual mall fare of the chic and trendy. I managed to find a nice tan jacket for twenty pounds, a pretty good bargain if you ask me. After that, Joseph had reached his quota for shopping, as had the rest of us, so we decided to hail a Black Taxi to take us to the Falls Road murals, as the rest of my group had not been brave enough to go on the walking tour yesterday. Finding one, we quickly upgraded our taxi ride to a full-blown Black Taxi Tour for a small fee, and our driver told us all about the murals and the area during the Troubles as he took us around the neighborhoods and the Peace Wall. As I actually learned more than I had previously ascertained from our walking tour (it was much easier to hear with only four of us in the Black Taxi), I felt that I had gotten my money’s worth. I felt many of the same emotions that I experienced yesterday when viewing the murals, but I understood their messages better the second time around, after some of the shock had subsided.

The taxi driver was nice enough to drive us all the way back to our hotel, where we had our last group dinner. Celebrating three birthdays, we had three cakes, along with numerous toasts to our great professors and awesome tour guide, Siobhan. Continuing the birthday and end-of-trip celebrations, the entire group went out to the Aunt Annie’s Pub that night. Our group had the distinct pleasure of drinking the night away with Siobhan, sharing games and funny stories for hours before walking back to the hotel to get the last bit of packing for home done.

May 23, 2009- Day Twelve- Travel to Charlotte

Alas, all good things must come to an end, including this amazing trip to Ireland. After a tearful goodbye to Siobhan, we boarded our plane back to the States (we have to get that woman to South Carolina and PC somehow—she is just too cool to forget). Traveling over the Atlantic for seven hours, we arrived in Newark, New Jersey in the afternoon, where I had to have good ole McDonald’s, the typical American fare (a Happy Meal, of course).

In my mind, however, we didn’t truly reach home until we made it to Charlotte and the South. I would have kissed the Southern soil, but I was just too tired. As my parents drove me back home, I went over the trip in my head. I’m going to miss those rolling green hills and stone fences, gorgeous coastlines and jagged cliffs, roaring seas and ancient ruins, rowdy pubs and great people. I’m going to miss Siobhan and Roy terribly—they had become like family. Siobhan, a.k.a. “Irish Mom,” told us “good morning” in Gaelic every day as we dragged our tired selves onto the bus, while Roy took us on adventures to unscheduled, but very much appreciated and enjoyed, stops. As cliché as it sounds, I’ll never forget these days as long as I live—Ireland ’09!!!

(Click for larger images.)

Londonderry	Lusitania Memorial	A common sight in the countryside
Cliffs of Moher	Blarney Castle	Mural tribute to Frederick Douglass, Belfast
Interior of Blarney Castle	Mailbox for Dublin Castle	Ben Bulben Mountain
Giant's Causeway	The gravesite of William Butler Yeats	Clock tower, Londonderry
Government seat, Belfast	Historic Greenhouse, Queens University, Belfast
Photos courtesy of Dr. Dean Thompson, Edmunds Professor of English