6.2.06
Yet another night at the pubs. They seem to play a lot of U2 here. Jimmy, Mike and I went to a few, including the famous Temple Bar in the Temple Bar District. We got used to this Irish drinking toast, Salontra, meaning good health. Later on in the night, we went back to our hostel/pub Oliver Gogarty’s for some more drinks and traditional music.

There were a few guys sitting up in the corner playing some amazing music. One guy was playing the Illain Flute, which is kind of like a bagpipe, but he doesn’t need to blow in through a tube. He just uses his arm to squeeze air through the pipes. Obviously there were drunk Irish people all around, but let me tell you those are the best damn drunk dancers I’ve ever seen. While the band was playing, a circle spread open right in the middle of the bar. There were a ton of girls there…I think there were a lot of bachellorette parties AKA “Hen Parties” going on. But one after the other, someone would leap in and just go crazy with their feet. Just like in that play River dance!

These girls really knew what they were doing. Later there was a really old dude who got in there and was spinning all the ladies around with his finger and thumping his feet to the beat. The hostel there was so loud at night. On the way back, we met an Australian guy with the surname DRINKALL… interesting. Since the hostel was right on top of the pub and in the middle of the craziest district in Dublin, you either had to be passed out drunk, or brought some earplugs or you wouldn’t get any sleep. But I slept just fine that night.

6.3.06
Today we left Dublin to see Jimmy’s home in Cork, or Corcaigh in Gaelic. We woke up at 7am to catch an 8am bus. I have a reputation of being slow in the morning, and it certainly held up today. We ended up sprinting for the bus and barely made it. Fortunately, we convinced the bus driver to let us on with only 3 seats left. I’m glad our group didn’t sit together because I ended up next to a beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired Irish girl. Her name is Irene Barry, from a small farming village just north of Cork. She had been studying in Dublin for Textile Design and Interior Design. So we immediately sparked up a conversion about Design…since I’ve been through some similar courses myself. It turns out that she used to work at Sea World, San Diego drawing Henna tattoos on tourists for a few weeks.

I’m starting to get somewhat of an outsider’s perspective on my home country from talking to Irene. For example, I was talking to her about some of the festivals I’ll be traveling to throughout Europe. She had honestly never heard of many of them, which surprised me. I came here assuming that everyone in Europe knew about everything that goes on in Europe. She asked me if I had heard of certain festivals in the US, and I hadn’t. I find that people don’t necessarily pay attention to the things that happen in their own country because they don’t directly apply to them.

We arrived in Cork after a 5 hour bus ride (it’s usually shorter, but our bus made some stops in a few towns), and took a walk to Jimmy’s Pad. Cork is a beautiful and diverse city. It was voted the Cultural Capital of the World in 2005. I couldn’t believe how many hot girls were there, blew my freakin mind away. Anyway, we were walking past pub after pub after pub until we arrived at this piercing/jewelry shop. Jimmy introduced Mike and I to his friend Noeleen, who worked there while going to school. She had just finished exams and graduated with a degree in Graphic Design! She is a very charming girl with pitch-black hair. We all walked back to Jimmy’s to take a shower and get ready for another night of crazy, uncontrolled, wild pub crawling. Believe it or not, Ireland is on of the most expensive places in Europe, so we went to the liquor store…known here as the “Off License”…and bought some Baileys Irish Cream, Jameson Whiskey, and Beamish Stout Beer. If you’re familiar with the ingredients, you probably know what came next. Irish Car Bombs! Note to self: Don’t go around to the pubs at night and ask for an Irish Car Bomb…you’ll get your ass kicked. So, we slammed down a few and headed to Jimmy’s favorite pub An Spailpin Fanac, meaning The Wandering Laborers. This was a little laid back place just across from the Beamish Beer factory. The Beer was so fresh, they could pretty much kick a keg out the front door of the factory and it would roll across the street to the pub. Icy cold, creamy top. I’m a huge fan of stout beers now. We moved on the An Bodhran, which is the name for the Celtic Drums commonly used in “Trad Music,” and met some of Jimmy’s Irish, German, French, Canadian, and American friends. This place was like The Hawk in Lawrence on steroids. Loud music, packed full of drunken college kids from all around the world. You can imagine the interesting conversations that went on in there. We eventually called it a night and stumbled back to Jimmy’s Pad. We had to get at least a little sleep for Blarney Castle the next morning.

6.4.06
Today we headed out to the town of Blarney, about a 30 minute bus ride outside of Cork. I really didn’t know what to expect except a lot of tourists kissing some rock in a wall. The castle blew my mind away.

In the past, I’ve learned so much about medieval castles around Europe in the Dark Ages, but you never learn about the area around them and the town’s that developed afterwards. The Blarney grounds are closed off, so you have to pay about 8 Euros to get in, but it is absolutely worth it. For a little history lesson, the Blarney Stone was found by a King who had a speech impediment. He would kiss it and it cured his speech for a while. The word Blarney means “pleasant talk.” The grounds reminded me of something out of Lord of the Rings. The forest seemed somewhat eerie, but compelling. It called for you to come closer and wander about. This kind of creeped me out a bit because I’ve heard some of the Irish Faerie and Witch Lore. I’ll get to that in a second though. First we walked up to the castle. It had a gently rolling stream with giant trees and foliage gently blowing in the wind all around us…somewhat like the Shire. The castle towered a few hundred feet straight up above the forest. This is when Jimmy tells me that the Blarney Stone is at the very top of that tower and you need to lean over backwards off the side of the tower walls to kiss it. So of course, I’m all for it. We start walking and Jimmy tells us about all the castles secret architectural weapons. The Murder Hole is a small area right when you walk through the entrance of the castle. They usually lock you in there and pour boiling liquids and rocks and spears on the enemies through a hole in the ceiling. As you can imagine, this was not a very fun place to be caught in. Especially when they grinded the Oubliette into action. This genius warfare device was controlled by a latch or lever that was pulled by the defending soldiers at the top of the murder hole. Apparently the floor inside the murder hole completely tilts sideways, dumping the enemy soldiers 80 ft below to a dark, dank, dungeon only to be left for dead. Not fun. Moving on, we eventually got to the top of the castle and admired the view. I was trying to imagine myself standing on that wall a few hundred years ago with a medieval army at its breach. Most people would normally pass this thought off as just a fairy tale, or fiction. This kind of stuff did happen though, and you get a little more sense of what it was like when you’re standing on the edge of a castle. Arrows and giant boulders would be flung at you from the field below. We waited our turn to kiss the Blarney stone. Jimmy said that the two polite Irishman who help you kiss it try to sell you the photos that they take. So Jimmy took the camera and stood right behind the Irish photographer and sneaked a shot of Mike and I kissing the stone.

You would lay down on your back, lean back, pretty much completely upside down and kiss the stone. (I should ad here that when I returned to Cork, Noleen told me that the locals go up there at night and piss all over the it) I was literally being held off the top of a castle by an 80 year old, and very polite, Irishman. It’s quite a view looking down, well… really up, at the 200 foot drop off the castle wall.

Once we hiked down the castle, we wandered off into the mysterious forest around the castle. We came upon this small rock which had a door chiseled out of it and some stares dropping about 20 feet into a cave. This is a magical place called the Wishing Stones. If you are bold and brave enough, you can make a wish at the top and walk down the stone steps backwards and blind without falling. If you make it to the bottom, you’re wish will come true. We all made it of course, Jimmy messed up on the last step and of course he had to do it all over again.

We looked like complete idiots to people walking past us up the stairs, but whatever…we’re lucky now. The next place we walked by was a creepy large stone. I read later that that’s where people used to be executed. So the feeling I got from it was definitely correct. People usually don’t venture to this place because it is haunted. Some of the trees here are very, very old and they looked twisted and scary.

Almost as if they have grown worn and tired of past memories and time. One place we came upon looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. It was a small cave like dwelling under two giant rocks teetering against one another at the pinnacle. A large old tree had winded its roots around the rocks and towered above it. I swore some evil witch must have sacrificed small children inside. We got the hell out of there. It felt like we were in a Blair Witch movie.

On our way out, we realized that we haven’t gone to see the dungeons of the castle. There was an entrance to the dungeons, which was basically a small cave at the base of the cliff the castle was built on. We went inside a few feet and realized that there was absolutely no light! There was no one around, and we weren’t completely sure if we should be in there, so we decided to bust out my bic lighter and move on! It was kind of scary because you couldn’t see anything except a foot in front of you. So the dungeon passage got to be about 3ft by 4ft wide and it just kept going and going.

Eventually my lighter started to run out of fuel, which sucked because the only other way we could see was by using our camera flashes and cell phones to give us some light on where to get out. So we finally come to the end of whatever passage that was and mike flashed the camera. When we looked at the photo he took on his digital screen, we saw that there were writings all over the wall! It was from all the people before us who dared to wander the dungeons under Blarney Castle. When we came out we were all wet and somewhat muddy so all the tourists where wondering where the hell we came from. We told some German guys that they could go back there as long as they have a lighter or something. It would’ve been freakin brilliant to wait back there in the dark until some poor soul comes wandering into that dark room! Would scare the crap out of anyone!

So we returned to Cork and went to get some fish and chips. Now these are like the fish and chips that I usually get from Dewey’s American Grill across the street in Highlands Ranch. Nah…this was REAL fish and chips. A full cod, thrown in the deep fry skin and all, tossed onto a large piece of paper, with a ton of salt and white vinegar poured on it. He just wadded the whole thing up in the paper and handed it to me. Yummm! And Jimmy recommended the Garlic Mayo for the fries. It was so good. Not the best place for a date though because it gets pretty messy eating with your hands.

Went out later that night to the pubs and had a blast. It was Jimmy’s last night in Ireland as well, so he had to say goodbye to all his friends. We were going to jump off the bridge into the Lee River below, but decided that it wasn’t a great idea when we saw a shopping cart glistening on the river bottom. We got the late night munchies and went to the highly recommended Hillbillies American Chicken. Just like KFC, but with a funny name. I went home and packed for our next destination Granada, Spain.

6.5.06
Ok, so I’ll skip a lot here because we traveled on planes the whole day. One from Cork to Dublin, then from Dublin to London, and finally London to Granada. Granada is a city in South Spain tucked away in a very mountainous region. I here you can go snowboarding here, but I decided to pass. It has a lot of Moorish influence in the architecture from when the Moorish people of Morocco conquered the region sometime in the early dark ages after the Roman Empire. It is not a very touristy town, but it does have a large University. So there are plenty of young people to talk to. Unfortunately, there are too many that speak English. The town is incredibly cheap; at least from Dublin’s standard, and they are the only people in Spain who typically give you free Tapas with beer. So we can literally eat dinner while we’re on our nightly binge. Tapas are basically different appetizers that they bring to you when you order a drink. The Tapas you get depends on what kind of beer you order. At some bars, the more you drink, the better your Tapas gets. Anyway, it’s pretty convenient for us young guys because dinner is typically served here around 10:00pm. So the nightlife is bangin!

So, on with the story. Mike and I split a cab with this guy we met, Will, on the plain who is a student in Granada. Our taxi driver was completely insane. The second we all got in the car, he pretty much floored it out of the airport and didn’t slow down until the train station. Mike and I had planned to meet the rest of our group, Nithin, Mr. Ryan, and Aaron, at the train station. We finally get there, alive, and paid the man. This Asian girl approaches me and is speaking in some language that I don’t understand. She was complaining about something on her phone. I wanted to help her out, but I had no idea what she was saying. So out of nowhere, Aaron and Mr. Ryan grab and start running me through the train station telling that I’m being kidnapped and to not look around because you’ll be tainted by Spain. At this point I was just worried about that poor girl outside who I had just ditched. They brought me to some creepy tunnel under one of the train tracks, sat me down with a little video camera aimed at my face, gave me a little piece of paper with some questions on it and told me to read them and answer them into the camera. They told me that they would meet me at some Tapas bar, which I had no idea where it was and ran off. So, I’m sitting alone, in a creepy train tunnel with only a little light to see, talking to myself into Mr. Ryan’s camera. Apparently while I was at home in Denver, the rest of the world trippers group gave personal interviews before they left. Since I didn’t get the chance to do this, they kidnapped me and made me do it as soon as possible because they didn’t want me to be tainted at all by my travel experience. Then they seal up the tape and send it home. None of us have seen any of the interviews. We will watch them when we get back in a year and laugh our asses off.

I eventually found them sitting at a café down the street from the train station eating at a Tapas Bar. Sitting with them was the Asian girl that approached me when I got out of the taxi. They told her to go up and confuse the hell out of me while Aaron and Ryan grabbed me. Nithin was dressed in some ridiculous outfit with a large sombrero-esque hat and a black leather shirt, smoking a cigar. I saw him hiding in the corner reading a newspaper as I was being kidnapped though, so his camouflage didn’t work. We all sat down and talked for a while, then moved on to another Tapas Bar to eat some fried squid. Mmmmmmm. It actually was pretty good. We eventually headed back to the apartment that the other three have been living in for the past few weeks. The apartment was amazing. It is on the sixth floor above a Tapas Bar and has an incredible view of the mountains. We have two separate balconies, our own individual rooms, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small laundry room. After the tour, Mike and I were so exhausted we crashed for the night.

6.6.06
Now that it is light out, I can actually see what Spain is all about. I woke up and went with the guys to the internet café. On the way home we stopped at this local fruit and vegetables seller on the street corner. It was so cheap. Like 1 Euro for a large bag of apples. The fruit was so good because it was grown on a farm about 10 miles from here. Most of the day was kind of a recovery day from travel. Later that night, we went back out for Tapas. Mike, Ryan, and I met Aaron at this hostel called Oasis. They have been hanging out there even though they aren’t living there because the people are so cool to talk to. So we had some drinks and met some Canadians and Americans and Brits. The English bartender new that Mike and I were rooks, so he poured out a shot of Absinthe for Mike, Mr. Ryan and I. It’s that glowing green stuff that apparently makes you see little green faeries, but Ryan informed me that this was weak stuff. Oh ya, another history tip. Vincent Van Gogh was very fond of this drink, especially when painting! That is why a lot of his paintings are so weird and “trippy” looking because he was all doped up on Absinthe. He even decided to proclaim his love to his girlfriend by cutting off one of his ears and giving it to her… He must’ve been listening to the green faeries. Anyway, it was pretty much like liquid fire. Burned a bit, after all it is 70 proof alcohol. So that started the night out very, very fast. We walked down to one of the guy’s favorite bars called Poe. It had really great Tapas. I got a shish kabob. Mike got some kind of Potato Soup. We met some other people and mingled through the streets of the city. The cathedrals were amazing. You’ll just be walking down a thin side street and look up to see this enormous sand colored cathedral towering above you. The neighborhood is literally built right up to the walls. The architecture is very bold and solid looking. The buildings are broad and strong. Every once and a while you’ll walk under some ancient Moorish wall that over the years had been integrated into the modern architecture of apartments and other buildings. It is quite a site.

6.7.06
Today we hit the beach in Malaga, which is an hour bus ride south from here. Malaga is much more of a modern touristy town. We walked all over the place, going into shopping malls, movie theaters, and the beach. The beach was ok. The sand was more like pebbles though. There was quite a nice view there if you know what I mean…So we had had enough of the beach and made our trip home to Granada, washed up and hit the internet café. I eventually made it to the internet café to continue working on my blog site. While I was typing, a Spanish girl came up to me and asked me if I could help her. She was trying to apply for a scholarship to some school in Pennsylvania. So I asked if I could read what she was writing so I could help her out. I went over to her computer station and started to edit her letter to make it sound more formal. She was very appreciative and said I was good at English….hell ya. Once my I stepped down from my high horse, I gave her some advice on writing formal letters in English. She was really cute, I regret asking her if she wanted to hang out later. Oh well, it was nice to get that feeling that your help was needed and useful. Later that night, we bought some Alhombre 40oz´s and drank at home. This was one funny night. We all got pretty wasted, but Mr. Ryan topped us all. He eventually thought he was a bullfighter and used his sombrero hat and a red blanket as a cape to attack Mike (the bull.) Anyway, we got some really funny photos out of that one.

6.8.06
Today Mr. Ryan, Mike and I walked down into the center of the city to see what Granada was all about! We walked all over, seeing the massive cathedrals, the mega shopping centers, and the little side streets.

We stopped every once and a while at a Tapas Bar to drink and get some food. We eventually hit the Alhombre crevas, and walked up this narrow cobble stoned street. There are a ton of hippies here. I don´t really know why, but anyway they are everywhere…and they kind of smell bad. One of them had a pet hawk on his arm, so that´s pretty cool. Makes up for lack of bathing in my book. On our walk home, we really began to notice how attractive Spanish girls are. We decided to try and make some kind of poll where we could determine the ratio of hot Spanish women to average Spanish women. Every few minutes, we would say “now” and count the first ten girls we could see. Then determine the hotness of the group of ten. Example 6 out of 10. After a few of these measurements, we came to the conclusion that 7 out of 10 Spanish women are hot. That´s 70 freakin percent!

6.9.06
The Alhombra is calling.

Nithin, Mike and I woke up really early to avoid the crowds and walked up the mountain to the Alhombra. This is probably one of the largest attractions in all of Spain. This is pretty much the reason why most people even come to Granada. It is a massive Moorish fort perched on a large hilltop at the base of the mountains and right on the edge of the city. The Muslim architecture is amazing. Incredibly detailed and organized.


The form of the architecture is defined by the Koran and its teachings. The gardens were spectacular. They were lush green and scented jasmine floated through the air. The architecture allowed water to flow through the entire garden, which is on the top of a cliff. They even had water flowing down the handrails on the staircases. It was quite amazing to see a place that has inspired people for centuries, including the famous American Author Washington Irving who wrote “Tales of the Alhombra.”

We walked back and took a nap before out late night bar hopping began. I woke up and asked Mr. Ryan to cut my hair. This was the first time he had cut anyones hair and the first time I let someone cut my hair. So this was a very scary process. He did well though and gained my trust that he won´t buzz a bald strip down the center of my head for fun.

We went to a few bars that night. We started out at the Kasbah, which is known for their Flamenco Dancing. The group met down in the basement where the dancers would eventually show up and ordered some Sangria while waiting. Sangria is a wine that is flavored with fruits and spices. We ordered a pitcher and it actually had chunks of fruit and other spices in it. The dancer eventually came down the stairs and the music started. Flamenco Dancing is quite an art form. I noticed the gracefulness of her fingers as she ebbed and flowed them through space.

How she controlled her hair by flinging gracefully around her head and through her fingers. I probably takes tremendous focus and practice to dance that way. She eventually danced over to our table and grabbed Mr. Ryan. He was hesitant at first, but we all pushed him to go up out there. I´ve seen a lot of funny things in my life, and this one is at the top of my list. A tall white American dancing next to a Flamenco Dancer in a muslim bar basement. I believe I saw a little bit of the running man come out of Ryan there for a second.

Anyway, the crowd loved it and everyone was clapping when the song ended. After that we hit the streets again in search for another bar.


The next couple bars were completely empty, but we had fun playing foosball and darts. We ran into a group of American High Schoolers who were looking for a bar to drink at. So we found this Martini Bar on the corner of a pretty busy street. There were lots of Americans there and one cervesa was only one Euro, so Ryan bought us a round. We were approached by two other American girls who wanted to hang out with us. I went back up to the bar and bought a cervesa. There was a different bartender there and she took my 2euro and didn´t give me any change back. She just walked away! I was pissed but I couldn´t say anything because I can´t speak Spanish. So I grabbed Mr. Ryan and told him to ask her how much 1 cervesa was. She looked away, obviously noticing that I new she gypped me, and said 2euros. That bitch! So I went to a different bartender and she gave me a cervesa for the regular price. Ryan was trying to teach me Spanish the whole night. I wanted to say something to the nice bartender…not the evil one… so I practiced enough to where I sounded legible enough. I brought Mr. Ryan up with me and said (in Spanish) “My friend here…Mr. Ryan… doesn´t speak Spanish, so he would like 1 cervesa.” This was funny because she was speaking to Ryan in Spanish a few minutes ago.

After that us guys and the two American girls walked to another Tapas Bar that wouldn´t stop playing 50 Cent and Tupac. We got out of there fast and the girls split to do their own thing. We were eventually just walking down the street watching Mr. Ryan going up to random groups of Spanish girls and asking where some good bars were. We came across this “Irish” Pub called O´neills.

I ordered some kind of Belgian beer which was really good. Nithin and Mike took off so it was just the real men left, i.e. Mr. Ryan and myself. It was about 3am by this point. This girl came up to the bar next to me, and Mr. Ryan leans over me and said to her “Me hombre (me)…es a loco” in a Mexican accent and continued to twirl his finger around his ear. This meant “My friend here is crazy.” Miraculously, this line worked! Anyway, she kissed me on both cheeks. I thought she was coming on to me a little strong, but it turns out she´s French and that´s how they say hello. She has dark brown, semi-curly hair, cinnamon brown eyes, and a soft face with perky cheeks. She had a very eloquent quality to her posture. She totally looked French. Her name is Sophie and she´s from Marseille. I had an interesting conversation with her about how American girls are "easy." She said there is a bar here where they all hang out. They say that you´ll get a free shot if the girls dance on the bar. Oddly enough, we were just at that bar. Anyway, they´ll just play some rap song and the girls will just get freaky on the bar. I could see why she thinks Americans are easy. But she made it clear that American guys were just fine…cha-ching! She was studying in Granada at La Cartuja University for a Translation degree. I told her about my travels and that we were heading to Madrid and Morocco on Monday, but we´ll be back again at the end of the month. She asked if we could hang out again, so I got her digits and told her I´d call when we got back. I felt like an idiot though because when she asked for my number I had to have Mr. Ryan come over and translate my phone for me…idiot! Anyway, Ryan and I cruised out of there cool and casual. Boom!! what an ending for a night.

6.10.06
I did my laundry all today. I was kind of scared to hang my clothes out the window on the clothes line to dry. I didn´t want my boxers blowing of into the wind to some far away place. Spent most of the day at the internet cafe creating my new blog site.

Later that night we went back to O´Neil´s to watch the beginning of the World Cup games in Germany. I texted Sophie to see if she wanted to meet somewhere tonight. She told me to meet her at a fountain at the corner of Gran Capitan and Martinez de la Rosa. I left the guys at O´neil´s and walked to the fountain. She was on her way to her friends birthday party but met me to have a few drinks before hand. She introduced me to Tinto de Verano which is a notch down from Sangria but still very good. It is like a carbonated wine, I think it´s mixed with some kind of pop. We went to some Bar and sat down. We talked about so many things. I asked her about food and she said she likes to cook. I asked what kind of things she likes to make. One thing she mentioned was rabbit. I told her that in my hometown, people would find me a little weird if I caught all of the neighborhood rabbits and cooked them. She asked me if i´ve ever eaten horse. I haven´t but Sophie is pretty fond of it. Apparently it is very tender. You can get horse meat from certain places in France, but not everywhere because it is not completely accepted yet in there society. She wants to go study in England her senior year, (she´s a sophomore now.) She is Catholic like myself, but I noticed a difference in how we thought about the religion. I admire the way she thinks about Catholic Church. She prays every night and goes to church every Sunday. She had a very cool Rosary ring on her finger. It had 10 notches in it and 1 cross. So you could twirl the ring and say your Hail Mary´s. We somehow got on the topic of Scientology and I tried to explain it to her. She asked me if most Americans practice Scientology, and I told her that it was only the Hollywood weirdo´s.

I walked Sophie to an intersection and said goodbye. This point was a little ackward and I noticed that our cultural differences kind of clashed. When I went to say goodbye, I went to hug her and she went for the double cheek kiss. I could tell she was a little weirded out by it. I guess the French don´t hug too often unless you are very good friends or family. It is considered a very intimate thing. In my culture, you wouldn´t think twice about hugging someone. Anyway, I said I´d call her when we got back and then took off the other direction. If I see her again, I want to ask her more about what kind of music she likes and maybe she could come over and teach me how to cook something. But we´ll see what happens.

I really didn´t have any place to go, so I walked around the streets for a while. It was about 2am and I decided to figure out where I was and find my way home. I bought a map from a store and eventually figured out what street I was on. I walked about 20 minutes until I got back to Real de Cartuja, where our apartment is. I walked in to find my roomates playing some kind of Risk card game but they were using chips, fruit, and orange peels as their army playing pieces. It actually worked and began to make sense after a while. Looks like we have a new game to play!