We're back...

Well, we're back and have mostly returned our internal clocks to the central time zone.  What was my favorite?  I immensely remember Morocco, and if I choose to recall only the best moments, it really was an unforgettable and amazing place to visit (I highly recommend it if you have a sense of adventure... and speaking French wouldn't hurt either).  However, after munching on tapas and speaking Spanish for almost a month and not counting the hospitality we received in France, Ireland offered a delightful experience and a raw beauty thats hard to top, even in the rain.  See for yourself what you think. 

A selection of photos from almost 3000:
http://picasaweb.google.com/h2ogood/SpainMorocooFranceAndIreland

Ireland, Part 3

Sunday, July 13, 2008

We took the standard tour of the Waterford Crystal factory and saw glass making, breaking (they chunk the bad ones), and etching at its finest.
Our single night in the small, quaint town of Kinsale consisted of running about for dinner and then hiding away at our B&B while the rain blasted horizontally.

The next day we took a stop and stroll in Cork. A brief visit to the library proved entertaining. Dani's great grandparents tombstone lists County Cork as birthplaces (and even goes as far to designate their parish, Dysart), so we thought we'd partake in a genealogical treasure hunt to see if we could uncover any tidbits. The library was directly in the city center and as we entered the business like building we were greeted with a smile and assistance. We told the gentlemen our intentions and he sent us off to the second floor, or reference library. At the second floor desk we repeated our mission, and the young lady said that we should go to the third floor genealogy area. We gladly skipped away thinking this was going quite well. The two librarian-esque ladies with gray hair at the third floor genealogy desk had their eyes both peering over their reading spectacles and looked as if they had been waiting for us quite some time. After conveying the details, they looked with raised eyebrows at the year of birth we mentioned, 1790 and 1803. They said that few records were present prior to 1820, and she then asked what the name was. As I uttered the words "John McCarthy" she drew a big grin as this was like asking for a Mr. Smith that lived somewhere in the USofA. She did however give us some ideas on marriage records, as those are documented after 1801. Actually, one can now look these up online, so we concluded our search for the day and figured we could take it up via the world wide web at a later time. If you'd like to do a search for anyone, check out: http://www.irish-roots.ie/mallow.asp
After a walking tour of Cork we continued our road trip to Killarney.

From DANI:
Having called ahead from Cork to reserve a room, we headed straight to our b&b which would be home for a couple of nights. We freshened up and then went into town to explore. Killarney is the hometown of our friend and Seattle neighbor, Pio. He'd given us the name of a place to check out some music so we found the location and, it being rather early, we set out to find dinner.

Once again we ended up at a Kebab shop that was delicious. We also stopped in at Murphy's Ice Cream because they had a sign out front that said you could get a free scoop if you made a balloon animal. So, we went for it! Trying too hard to make mine perfect (by unwinding a twist I'd already made) my balloon popped. So, it was up to Mark.. and it took him a while but he did eventually make a dachshund and we scored a free scoop. The ice cream and atmosphere were both incredible.

It was finally late enough to head to the pub for a little Irish music and drinks. I was quite excited to be in a country where everyone knows what a Shandy is and thus ordered one with Smithwick's. Mark, trying to be ironic (?) ordered a nutty Irishman which drew him a blank stare from the woman behind the bar. Not only that, when a coworker walked by she asked him and he looked at Mark as if he were the Nutty something. Mark ended up with a non-ironic White Russian. The music started up and we joined the middle-aged and up crowd in enjoying the talent. As the night wore on and our drinks were emptied, the place started to fill with people much better dressed and looking than us. We happily made our way home with the tune of "Galway Girl" in our heads.

Killarney is a beautiful area...there's a National Park there and one day when we are able to pack more appropriately for a single destination we hope to spend more time there. We did have the opportunity to drive a bit of the Ring of Kerry and had a pretty day with only bits of rain and gusts of wind (or something like that according to the radio forecast). We looked down on the park from the Ladies' View and were again amazed at the beauty of Ireland. We then made our way back down and into Muckrose where we spent some time walking and avoiding being run down by jaunty cars (renegade handsome cabs driven by friendly Irishmen). We dodged the intermittent rain by hiding in the trees. We also went out to Ross Castle which I found to be beautiful despite the wind carrying my scarf parallel to the ground.

We made the decision to avoid driving the entire Ring of Kerry in order to hang out in Dingle. According to our guidebook, Dingle is more rewarding than the Ring of Kerry (I have a feeling because a heck of a lot fewer people are driving there). We parked the car and headed to the information center to get a map and an idea about accommodations in the area. Since we'd spent the two previous nights in a rather hotel-like b&b, our budget was leading us in the direction of the hostel. Dingle town is situated on a harbor. It's quite a cute little town with many a Kodak-moment sort of places. We strolled the town on a mission - to find a barber to cut Mark's hair. We passed a shop and stepped back to look inside. Two chairs with men at work and four chairs with others waiting...I guess Monday is the day for haircuts in Dingle. We continued to look around but eventually made our way back. Mark got in line and grabbed a magazine and I headed a few doors up the street to a bookshop.

On this trip we have stopped in at quite a few bookstores and I'm always curious about what they display. Best sellers in the US are fairly common here in Ireland but obviously less so in France or Spain. In Spain, I got quite excited because the author of a favorite book of mine (Shadow of the Wind) has a new book out and everyone had huge displays. The unfortunate thing is that not all his books get translated into English...I'll have to wait and see.

I returned to find Mark in the chair and enjoying conversation with the barber. I picked up a Time magazine that was about 6 months old and flipped through it. In a short while Mark stood up and as we left I noticed his hair was quite a bit shorter and I reassured him that it looks great (and must be a heck of a lot more comfortable).

We were lucky enough to get a "private" double at the hostel! Still sharing bathroom and kitchen but we had our own double bed and door that locked. We dropped our things and drove to Slea Head, the most westerly point of mainland Europe. There's a pretty beach and as we made our way to it the sun even came out. We climbed the hill and hopped a fence to walk to the edge and say hello to the US. There's a sign here that says, "next parish, Boston". They are proud to be at the end of the continent! It was pretty windy and Mark had been telling me he felt like running (he'd actually even dreamed about it...I wonder if his legs kicked like Murphy's do?) so I ran down and then up the hill through the field to encourage him. It was fun and we lost our breath...and later in the evening realized Mark also lost his magnetic-clip-to-your-prescription-glasses sunglasses. So after having our dinner and dessert we made a second trip to Slea Head to retrace our steps to find said sunglasses. While we didn't have any luck in locating them we did have the break of seeing how high the tide had come in since we had visited earlier in the afternoon...the beach had disappeared under many FEET of water. It was amazing!

Ireland 2

Wednesday, July 9, 2008
As Mark told you, we arrived in Dublin and headed for our rental. We then sat in the car for, oh, half an hour getting comfortable, checking out maps and having a little lunch before we hit the highway. I think Mark was just psyching himself up for driving on the left.

We made our way out of the city and headed for a scenic drive through the Wicklow Mountains. It was beautiful if a bit scary. The roads continued to grow more narrow as we made our way. We entered a small village and due to our lack of sleep the previous night and the drizzle we decided that we'd secure some accommodation for the night. We decided to divide and conquer. Mark went to the nice looking restaurant with an attached B&B and I went across the street and inquired with the elderly gentleman clipping his hedge. When I asked if he had any rooms free he replied, "Yes, go check with the girl in the house." So, I left him to his work and headed to the house and as I opened the door to ring the bell the "girl" approached me. She was the man's wife and was a long time away from being a girl. She was pleasant and showed me a big room with tea and biscuits (which were welcome after our drizzly start - we had gotten pretty sunburnt bicycling in France). We relaxed before heading to the Glendalough Monastic Site. It is a magnificent 16th century village centered around a monastery begun by Saint Kevin. It's in the middle of the mountains and has a huge tower so pilgrims who would come for prayer and refuge would be able to locate it.

We were both immediately overwhelmed by the green of Ireland, the beauty. We made our way back to our room and hit the hay early. The next morning we had our first Irish breakfast: cereal and yogurt with soda bread, next came fried eggs, cooked tomato halves, bacon AND sausage, toast, and tea. We were more than satisfied and had nice conversation with the couple following our meal. Just before departing the mister smiled and asked us if we needed baths while he pressure washed his horse just outside our room.

We jumped back in the car and headed south to Kilkenny where we chose a cheap sleep in a hostel. We secured our (free) tickets to the Smithwick's brewery "tour" - they don't actually do a tour, you watch a 20 minute video that was made in 1980 on a 19-inch TV screen. Basically it took you through how they make their beer. Then, free samples. We assumed this meant a pint apiece. No. Others imbibed quite a bit while Mark tried the Kilkenny and I had a Smithwick's. We then shared a "small" glass of Guinness...Mark asked for a sample and got 8 ounces! We were asked numerous times if we'd like more but seeing how it was 4pm and we still needed to figure out dinner we didn't think it wise. We headed out (albeit a little tipsy) to the grocery store which was a bit of a super-fillintheblank Mart type place. We both checked out clothing as Ireland was proving to be much colder than we anticipated and packed for. Because we are both frugal, we ended up only buying a small umbrella. We also bought some groceries and prepared a wonderful dinner.

As throughout most of our travels, we have done little in the way of planning. We have a general skeleton and go from there. We are thankful to have a good friend who is originally from Killarney. We asked him for ideas on what to do and his recommendations have been very helpful. Thanks, Pio! We have only made a few reservations for sleeping (Paris, Dublin, London). For us, this has worked out...you just have to be willing to be turned down and stick to your price. This has been a little tougher in Ireland as it is quite pricey. When we landed in Spain we thought that 40 Euros for a place to sleep was really high...in Ireland, at a B&B you can easily spend 40 per person! This does include breakfast but still! This has led us to sprinkle hostels in between our B&B stays (we have found some hostels with private rooms which end up being 40 total).

From MARK:
With my head looking down and slowly turning from side to side, "Yesterday, it happened." I was driving along a smaller-than-normal tiny country road and we were looking for our turn around each bend in the road. It all happened rather quickly, but I drove past our left fork while reading the small sign and realizing I'd need to make a U-turn ASAP. The roads are so narrow you simply can't turn around and without shoulders, the thick tall-as-trees brush create a virtual wall that flies by at less than an inch from your passenger mirror (and that's at the wide points). The speed-limit on these ludicrous roads is posted at 100 kph, which some people actually reach (despite one sign we saw indicating 42 recent deaths).

The next ninety-degree right-bend in the road revealed several driveways that looked promising. I picked the second entry on the left and pulled in the length of the car. I looked both ways for traffic, tossed the car in reverse, and easily backed out into my lane. I glanced in the rearview mirror and noted that the road behind us was clear. We entered the previous tight curve (also recalling to myself that I needed to take the next right) with a comfortable yet moderate speed when I noticed a large, white, road construction truck (think large delivery truck size) that seemed to be taking his turn really wide and FAST... so much so that he was invading my entire lane! WHAT was he thinking and why was he in my path? Perhaps there was a pedestrian just out of sight or maybe some sheep meandered on the road? I quickly slowed to a stop as he did the same and at twenty paces apart our bumpers faced each other like a an old western movie show-down. My heart raced and I then wondered when he'd realize his mistake and return to the inside lane when Dani blurted out "You're in the wrong lane!" I was still in mild disbelief but knew she was right and thus chose to take her word and rev the car into the left lane. My mind uttered some unmentionable words as we passed the now-stopped construction truck with white-knuckles and rapid breathing. By the time we could see his back in our rearview mirror he actually gave us a "honk" for good measure perhaps.

Both realizing we were alive, Dani laughed hysterically at his delayed beep, my rampant driving, and to relieve a good bit of built up stress. I too had a hardy chuckle mixed with after-shock and proceeded to "laugh it off" since I was now driving down the correct road (on the correct side) which had even larger hedge rows creating a tunnel like path. With tears of glee now in my eyes, I at some point apparently quit watching the road and allowed the car to mindlessly drift into the left hedge, at which point Dani levitated out of the passenger seat to the middle of the car in order to avoid being impaled by branches and the such. Realizing the scraping-on-the-side-of-the-car sound wasn't normal, I compensated by arching the steering wheel right, returning the car to the middle of the road. Luckily, no oncoming traffic was present and we continued the de-stressing laughter while maintaining a safer driving path. Dani drove to dinner that evening.

The view from the car's dashboard...

...and us happily looking at the view in the post below.

Ireland, 1

Monday, July 7, 2008
From MARK

Ireland is wonderful. If you take the Hawaiian islands, bring them together as one, enlarge the island a bit, add a Seattle-like climate, imagine larger green fields (with sheep), and give the people cheery accents and paler skin you'd have Ireland. Oh, don't forget to drive on the LEFT too! Yes, we are fans of Ireland and all that it has to offer.

Our flight from Paris to Dublin on Wednesday, July 2 was smooth and forgettable. After staying up most of the night before watching the Eiffel tower lights (change from blue to "rapid blinky" around 1am) and getting up at 4.30 to catch our flight, we slept quite well on the plane.

I opened the right side door of our small, black Citreon rental car, sat in the cushy seat, and mindlessly went to buckle up by reaching my right hand over my left shoulder only to grab air. Shifting with the left hand isn't that hard, and really, as long as you don't think about which side your supposed to be driving on it's really quite easy. Except for the one time I gunned it through a questionable who-had-the-right-of-way light (actually, the oncoming driver was just SITTING there) I got a little anxious on the next street and made the turn into the right lane along with some minor oncoming traffic, which was easily remedied with a fast twitch of the steering wheel.

We drove our four door around Dublin on the M-50 with ease and headed towards the Wicklow Mountains. The drive has been one of the most scenic. The lush green pastures stretch over large rolling hills and sheep are sprinkled along the grassy fields like croutons on a salad. Some of the sheep have blue and/or red spray paint markings on their backs.

Included here is a photo from the Dingle Peninsula. More to come on Ireland. Cheers!

We're in Ireland!

Today we're headed to the Dingle Peninsula... and the weather has been "patches of sun", nevertheless we've been loving Ireland. Stay tuned for an update.

Caranten, France

If the riad is to Morocco, then Noelle and Michael are to Caranten, France. We consider ourselves extremely fortunate to be guests in a French home, where everyone is treated as family. A friend from Seattle (thanks again Amy!) studied abroad and still keeps in close contact with her host family, so she made the connection for us via e-mail and we enjoyed a three night stay in a little town called Caranten, France (about a three hour train ride from Paris).

We climbed aboard our sleek train with our packs in the St. Lazier station at 11.45am on Saturday, June 28, and within minutes bolted down the track with a smooth 75mph speediness across the rolling hills of the French country side. Cows and horses whizzed by as did the fields of wheat and corn each separated by mature tree lines or hedge rows. Small light brown cobble stone houses dotted the landscape and we sank into our plush, business-class like seats somewhat glad to be leaving the busy, hot city.

Writing now, it felt a little like coming home. I mention this, as I think Dani and I were both in need of some time to recharge and as current nomads, mildly longing for a place to call home. Noelle and Michael both met us at the train station with a warm welcome, including a kiss on both cheeks from Noelle and a hardy handshake from Michael. Petite Noelle has a warm tone, neck length smooth dark hair, and a smile that radiates. Michael is tall with a slightly athletic build, speaks less English than Noelle, and has a passion for flowers made obvious by the many colors in their backyard. We tossed our luggage in the back of the four door VW sedan and made the five minute drive to their French style home. Our room on the second floor was decorated with various sailing posters with rusty-orange colored walls and hard wood floors that included an occasional splinter as proof from my big toe.

Saturday evening they drove us to Mont St. Michelle, a monastery "island" that is amazing to see even from 20 miles away! We toured the place, had a crepe dinner, and watched the sun set (at around 10.45pm). Noelle happily told us we could sleep on the drive back, and after thanking her, I found my head soon toppling over much like an unstable bag of sand.

Sunday we were invited to a picnic with one of Amy's old teachers (which was ironically planned even before we had spoken). We ate our fresh croissants with butter and jam, and then drove north about an hour to meet the rest of the gang. The two story, picturesque house looked like a movie set. It had a cream yellow exterior with white trim, sparkling clean windows, and a patio where we had coffee and tea. In all, there were ten of us, Dani and myself by far being the youngest couple in attendance, and of course French was the common language (which neither of us speak). We abruptly got up (we guess the five minute warning came in French) and gathered for our "walk". As mentioned earlier, the fields are divided by tree lines, but hidden within these rows you'll find an ingenious trail system that one can walk about the country side. Much to our surprise but nevertheless quite happily, we proceeded to take a three hour walk which we believe was to get our digestive systems ready for the meal to follow.

First, we had two celebratory toasts of champagne coupled with crackers and chips on the patio. We then moved to the formal dining room and were given our seat assignments by the wonderful hostess. The dark red walls, light jazz music in the background, stark white linens, and china set an impressive tone. Two salads were passed, one consisting of a cream sauce over: diced avocados, melons, and shrimp. The other was a green bean, mozzarella, tomato, and pine nut mix. More red wine ensued with French conversation that we gladly listened to. Honestly, I was content with the amount of food I had at this point and could of gone home happy. However... After some conversation, we had our second course: leg of lamb and little fried bread balls which I just utterly under described, as they were quite amazing. More wine with an increase in accompanied chuckles. The cheese course arrived and Dani was told that she was true French because when asked if we liked cheese, she responded with rosy cheeks, "Who doesn't like cheese?" More French conversation coupled with bits of polite English clues. Just before the last course came a dessert wine, which was a rare, dusty, antique looking bottle that drew many "ooohs and ahhhs". We followed suite when shown and I knew that turning down such a glass was not an option, although my body considered it. At one point I asked Dani not to say anything in fear of laughing so much I might shoot food from my mouth across the table. I think the almond crusted apricot tart was delicious, as I somehow had two pieces. By 5pm I felt as if I'd never need to eat again in my life. This, was certainly an unforgettable "picnic"!

Caranten is located near the Normandy beaches so we took the chance to explore some of the WW-II memorials and museums. At several points my eyes welled up, from gratitude, sorrow, joy, and so much more. The numerous US flags waving high in the air combined with the beautiful golf-course-on-the-water like area made you feel proud to be an American and also at peace to realize the world can come together.

We spent out last day in Bayeaux and found a place that rented tandem bikes. We rode the country side under clear blue skies, warm sun rays, and a breeze the felt like frosty air conditioning set on high. I can think of no better way to take in the corn and wheat fields mixed with bright red poppies on the edge and the small, twisting, country/farm roads. We turned in the bike with new farmer tans and took a short train ride back to Noelle and Michael's where we enjoyed a home cooked roast pork and vegetable dinner. Their hospitality and openness throughout our stay with them made our trip to France an unforgettable one!