The Rocky Road to Dublin

Allo friends! It’s been a busy week for me in Edinburgh with classes and assignments in full swing. That’s whats been taking most of my time, although I have managed to squeeze in  a little sightseeing.

First off, I finally managed to find the real lifting gym in the basement of the gym complex. I’d been using a smaller room of freeweights prior to this, but I think we can all agree this has more atmosphere. It’s called The Vaults, and for good reason. As you can tell, the ceilings are low and arched, which complicates any lifts you may want to do that go above your head. The gym used to be a whiskey distillery and the low, vaulted basement ceilings are a remnant of that.

On Monday I went to the National Portrait Gallery in the New Town of Edinburgh. It’s a really beautiful museum that’s full of, well, portraits painted by Scottish artists. Needless to say I loved it.

I also wandered back over to St. Giles Cathedral with a group from my program. Not much to say, just that I’m glad I was able to get some pictures from inside the Chapel this time around because it’s truly stunning. The pictures really can’t convey just how detailed it is.

The biggest highlight of this week (and to explain the title of my post which comes from this song) has been my weekend adventure to Ireland (still ongoing as of now– I type this from a hostel in Galway with dodgy wifi).

After class Thursday morning, I sprinted over to catch a bus to the airport and somehow managed to get to my gate ten minutes before they started boarding. On the plane over I began to discover just how friendly the Irish truly are. The man next to me on the plane was delighted to learn that I am from Connecticut, explaining how he loved his time in Broken Hill (aka Rocky Hill), CT. Upon arriving in Dublin I took a private bus (as the Dublin bus workers were on strike) to University College Dublin where my friend Jamie (who also goes to Bucknell! How wonderful it was to see a familiar face!) let me stay with her overnight. UCD is on the outskirts of the center of Dublin and is a large and beautiful campus. I was fortunate enough to be greeted to Ireland with a spectacular sunset.

My next day in Ireland was quite interesting, to say the least. I soon came to discover that the tour group I had signed up for was not going to be the quirky group of fellow college students like I imagined; instead, I’m on a tour with Jerry, Jerry, and Bronnie. Jerry 1 is our chauffeur and expert on all things Ireland and a nice old man. Jerry 2 is a Canadian prosecutor who was in Dublin for a conference. Bronnie is an Australian from Adelaide who loves her Australian Football team (which, to her sorrow, lost their semi this morning). It’s actually quite relaxing traveling with the three of them. Everything is very chill and Jerry 1’s knowledge is allowing us to get off the beaten path of tour groups and see some of the most spectacular landscape Ireland has to offer.

One of the first things Jerry 1 made certain to show us (and me, the token American in particular) was the Barack Obama Plaza dedicated to– you guessed it– President Obama himself. I wondered why they chose a rest stop to be the home to a memorial to Irish-American presidents, but I guess there’s nothing more quintessentially American than a rest stop (After all, in Ireland you can get practically anywhere in four hours or less as opposed to the US where that might get you part of the way through Pennsylvania). It really was quite fascinating, though. The stop was in Moneygall, which is the origin of some of Obama’s ancestors. He visited there about six years ago and everyone loved it. They have a statue to him and everything. I even got a gold coin with his face on it because, truthfully, who would expect you to get such a thing in Ireland of all places? Between him, JFK, and Bill Clinton (and many others), the Irish are very proud that the leader(s) of the United States share their heritage.

Along the way, we stopped at a small town with an old, crumbled cathedral. Did you know that a church becomes a cathedral once it becomes a diocese? (Maybe you did, but I certainly didn’t) Anyways, after the creation of the Church of England when Ireland was still under English rule, King Henry VIII demanded the taxation of Catholic monasteries and churches, and under the Reformation many of them were destroyed. Any Catholic or Church of Ireland you see now is likely no more than two hundred years old.

After that we went out to the Cliffs of Moher. It was very crowded, but still very beautiful. I don’t think a trip to Ireland is really complete with out seeing them– the crowds of thousands of tourists agree with me.

Ireland, much like Scotland, has a history that is almost unfathomably ancient to me. As we were driving along, Jerry 1 turned to us and said “Want to see something cool?” OK those weren’t his exact words, but nonetheless we drove up a giant hill to see a five thousand year old tomb which may or may not have also been used for human sacrifices.

I also met a really cool guy named Tomas who was a metalworker. He really was very friendly and had some ancient swords and shields. He was even kind enough to indulge my inner child and let me play with Celtic broadsword & shield. (A brief blurb but he really was so cool I couldn’t not talk about him!! He had a cape and everything!)

The next day was mainly spent driving about the mountains of Ireland. They are really, truly, magnificent. There are no words to describe them– even pictures don’t do them justice.

I’m also pleased to say that I was able to sample some traditional Irish fare– lamb shepherd’s pie and some beef Guiness stew. Truly delicious indeed!

Tonight is my last night in Galway and I decided to do a little exploring. As I walked into the town center, I came upon a crowd of people in zombie makeup. I still don’t know why.

On a more serious note, being a poli sci student, I can’t help but notice the politics that surround all the places I go. Aside from people asking me about the election as soon as they find out I’m American, politics really is inextricably related to both a people and their history. It is impossible to have one without the other. If you remove the politics from certain parts of history, crucial details are missed. For instance: the great potato “famine” of 1845 that starved a million Irish and drove many others to immigrate was not a famine so much as a starvation. A famine implies there was no food at all where, in fact, there was plenty of food; it just wasn’t being made available to the poor Irish people who were starving because of potato blight. As I also touched on above, politics of religion are intrinsic to the history of Ireland and even now still have some impact. It’s really helping to drive home that what I’m learning (even though it’s centered around Scotland and not Ireland) is not just theoretical but in fact a very real thing with real consequences.

I hope to make the most of my last day in Ireland!