My Journey to Ireland!

2004-01-12T11:35:00.000-08:00

Authenticity is a word that many may be easily confused by. What may seem to be authentic may in actuality be inauthentic. It is sometimes hard to differentiate between the two being an annoying tourist and all. Authenticity claims something to be old, real, pure, or simple. It may even resemble something of ruins. Since this is a major tourist attraction, many industries try to take something inauthentic and pass it as something holding some value. SO, BE AWARE TOURISTS!

Previous to my visiting Ireland, I never gave much thought as to what was authentic or inauthentic. I was clearly “that” tourist due to my need to purchase those “tacky” souvenirs I would continuously buy. Our first trip Dingle showed me what true authenticity was and that pictures and words show more than those cheap gift shop nick knacks that I love so much.

On our way to Dingle, Ted graciously pulled the bus over as we stepped into the bitter cold. Before Michael could even say a word, this was something that could not be displayed on a post card or in a cheap drawing; it was something you had to see in person. The rolling hills, the upward ditches, and the history we were learning on the potato famine; this was all so amazing, but not authentic…or so I thought. After reading, “Renting a Piece of Old Sod”, by Jo Yohay, I realize this too is very authentic. It was not something that could be recreated or sold in a gift shop. This was real, old, and pure. This was “authentic” Ireland.

As we travel on to our next destination, it becomes easy to process all that we were learning and seeing. We quickly arrive to Minairoe Castle. This was what I had always pictured authenticity to be; something more of a ruin. Of course this “castle” looked as though it might just collapse any minute. There is not much left to this castle, but it has such a history and a great story to tell. This ancient castle, belonging to Mr. Hussy, has been standing since 1475. This is real, old, and surely authentic.

Our lesson of authenticity does not end yet, we read, talk, but once again get to experience it first hand along with the mix of inauthentic things as well. Our second voyage takes us to the Muckross House. This house that has been standing since 1843 is filled with authenticity from the inside out. It has been kept in obvious better condition than the less than glorious castle, but also has a mix of inauthenticity as well. While the furniture and the goat/ deer heads hanging on the wall are surely old and pure from the once owners, the wallpaper is a recreation of what once used to be. It is deceiving to one who may believe this Victorian wall paper is authentic, when in reality it is not at all. Although, when you look out a window into the gardens, the lakes, and the trees, you are once again experiencing something that is of authenticity, you are looking out at something that Henry Arthur Herbert and his wife Mary Balfour Herbert were once gazing at.

As you exit the quite authentic house, you begin to experience the inauthentic yet once again. A gift shop shoved right there to rob the tourists of their money, but what better way? If one does not know the difference between what is authentic or inauthentic, they would be willing to spend the 90 euro on that “authentic hand made sweater”. Oh, but don’t be fooled, here I played my tourist role and bought those post cards, and then indulged myself in the fine dining also provided on the Muckross house grounds!

Then there are the gardens of the Muckross house. Through the travel narrative “Killarney”, Nuala O’Faolain explains the scenery and it’s authenticity from the “mossy groves of fern” to “the fleshy flowers”. This helps put the National Killarney Park in full perspective. The moss covered trees, the stepping stones, and the stone paths are all part of authenticity. It may not be natural ruins which are slowly breaking down to nothing, but it is simple, old, and real.

Authenticity can become a difficult concept to grasp when you go to a place, such as the Muckross house, which is filled with authenticity, but also many inauthentic things as well. This makes it harder for a tourist, such as me, to differentiate between them. After reading many travel narratives, it helps put everything in perspective. For something to be authentic, it does not have to be beautiful or falling apart, it does not have to be complex, and it surely doesn’t have to be in tip top shape. These examples are shown from the Minairoe Castle to the Muckross house along with the gardens and the simple rolling green hills throughout Ireland.

2004-01-11T17:47:00.000-08:00

The Muckross House

Tourist :

Clearly, the Muckross house is filled with beauty. Just what every tourist is seeking to find, something of great beauty filled with a bit of history and much to be learned. While it is set in the Killarney National Park, “The house is a focal point within the Park and is the ideal base from which to explore its terrain” (http://www.muckross-house.ie/house.htm). As a tourist, I am able to be a participant in a tour experiencing the life story of all who have lived in each room from the time “building was completed in 1843” (http://www.muckross-house.ie/house.htm). Through attending the typical “touristy” tour, we learn that the house was initially built for Henry Arthur Herbert and his wife Mary Balfour Herbert. The facts are given to us in great detail from Mary Herbert’s love for water color painting to the fact this was the fourth house in Muckross that the Herbert family had occupied.

As a tourist, it is important to visit such sites as this one. “A visit to Killarney, or indeed Co. Kerry, is not complete without a visit to the world renowned Muckross House and Gardens” (http://www.kerrygems.ie/places/killarney/muckross/house.html). Also I can’t miss out on the gift shop where I can buy those tacky glasses, plates, sweaters, and post cards with “Killarney” or “Muckross House” written across them. Tourists are often “considered tacky takers of prepackaged tours who buy cheap souvenirs”. Therefore, the gift shop is the perfect addition to complete my touristy identity and help build Ireland even more economically.

Traveler:

Sure, The Muckross house is beautiful and filled with a lot of history, but it is quite authentic! It is ancient from 1843 and it is amazing to see and hear the history that resides in this house. The rooms are lovely but as a traveler, one realizes the wall paper is a mere recreation of what once used to exist. Authentic? I think NOT! The furniture is a true representation of authenticity. Mahogany, the prime wood used throughout the house, sparks the eyes of many travelers when we find it is shipped from Africa or South America, as many travelers may have heard of this previously or evened traveled there as well. It is interesting to know that the house was built for the Herbert’s, but the authenticity of Mary Balfour Herbert’s water colored paintings might be of more interest. The majority of her paintings were of the outdoors, focusing on the lake and national park that surrounded the home. (http://www.muckross-house.ie/library_files/mary_herbert.htm).

Also, one might be quite interested in the fact the there were red deer and goat heads along the ceiling panel of a few rooms. These being authentic from the time families lived there. Also, it is an interesting fact to know that there was a “mans” room which consisted of a full size Victorian pool table that was three and a half tons (the weight of three elephants) and also made out of mahogany wood and marble. This authentic entertainment piece still remained in excellent shape. Walking past the gift shop that is overpriced and directed mainly toward those annoying, tacky, tourists, I am able to venture into the gardens. This allows me to take pictures and experience the real thing instead of buying cheap imitation post cards.

Escaping Modernity:

While the Muckross house is filled with authenticity, the trap of modernity pulls you in as soon as you come to the end. Boom! There you land, smack dab in the center of a gift shop! What a way to trap the tourists and gather their money. A tourist can also experience what they call “authenticity”, but a true traveler would know to be “inauthentic”. “A unique aspect of the shop is the adjoining Craft Workshops, where customers can see Mucros Pottery, Mucros Weaving and Mucros Bookbindery products being made” (http://www.muckross-house.ie/craft_shop.htm).

Many places play into modernity in order to attract more tourism. It is hard to escape modernity because tourists tend to go where it is more modernized. In Killarney alone, there are many shops, restaurants, and hotels directed toward the everyday tourist. It is away to allow the tourist to visit an authentic place and buy inauthentic things that resemble that of authenticity. The Muckross house accomplishes this purely through there gift shop, eatery, and Craft Workshop.

Good luck trying to escape the modern ways, but to simply go out into the gardens and view the rooms of the Muckross house proves to give you an authentic experience. That is, if you don’t get caught up in the tourist atmosphere.

Works Cited

http://www.muckross-house.ie/house.htm Muckross House, Gardens and Traditional Farms, Muckross House.

http://www.muckross-house.ie/library_files/mary_herbert.htm Muckross House, Gardens and Traditional Farms, Mary Herbert

http://www.muckross-house.ie/craft_shop.htm Muckross House, Gardens and Traditional Farms, Craft Shop.

http://www.kerrygems.ie/places/killarney/muckross/house.html Muckriss House and Gardens, 2002, Kerry Gems.

2004-01-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

It was bumpy and rough, yet beautiful and worth every ache and pain that may be experienced later. Horseback riding in Killarney offered an experience that many others have yet to understand. The hike to the bus station started a journey filled with fun and excitement. While buying bus tickets to take the inexperienced horseback riders to the far away stables, the feeling of being a bit nervous began to surface. Horseback riding camp was fun, but it was also eight years ago. That leaves little experience left lingering inside.

The bus ride lasted no more than a mere 20 minutes, although it was quality nap time. It reminded me much of the bus ride from Shannon airport to the Kilteely House. Arriving a whole hour early, lunch is beginning to fill all five of our hungry minds.
While Brian, Mikey, Beth Anne, Sean, and I began walking around Killarney, we noticed that most every place appears to be closed due to the off season of tourism. Apparently we picked the wrong time to visit! Information booths are closed, hotels shut down until February, and many shops have apparently adopted the same idea. Luckily, a nearby restaurant was open and the food was excellent! From their pineapple bat to their chicken and pork, it was all so tasty. Irish hospitality shined through at this restaurant when the waiter called a taxi so the long impossible hike to the stables could be avoided.

The taxi awaits us outside the restaurant, and off we head to our destination. It was clear we were coming close to the stables due to the potent smell of manure. But overwhelmed with excitement, the smell was tolerable. After signing up and paying 25 Euro, the choice of hats and boots was to be made. This was a fun kind of look. We all resembled professional jockeys with much experience! The muddy boots and dirty riders hat gives the illusion of talent. Then out came the horses, one by one. Pinto, Jimmy, Patty, Dingo, and Captain strolled on out all geared up for some riding. Let the excitement begin! Each one of us is assigned to our horse. Brian, of course, gets the larger horse. I'm a bit jealous because now his horse is probably going to go fastest! But that was a misconception on my part as I soon find out!

Patty was her name, a strong, but old horse. Sean got assigned to Pinto, Mikey to Captain, Beth Anne to Dingo, and I to Jimmy. Mikey, being the liar about his experience, received Captain and his own personal whip! He told the lassies running the stables that he had ridden many times before; when in reality he had zero experience. Jimmy was a good horse for me. Of course, I would have rather ridden Captain, but I wasn't going to complain. I mean, even though Jimmy had to stop and eat every ten minutes, he was okay. It could have been worse; it was kind of funny to watch Sean ride Pinto. He just did not want to move- at all!! He was lagging behind the others always and he hated to trot! You could yell at him, whip him, kick him, but he would not move! It was near impossible for Pinto. At one point Jimmy took it upon himself to pass Pinto, but a little angry Pinto whipped his leg up kicking Jimmy's front leg. Well, Jimmy, being the better of the two, backed up a little bit allowing Pinto to slow the rest of us down. Jimmy also seemed to want to escape away from Pinto due to his constant need to go to the bathroom. He must have gone at least four times and also adding a bit of diarrhea into the mix. Could you blame Jimmy for his need to escape from him?

After an hour or so of riding, we head back to the stables. We unload off our horses, and Jimmy gets to eat as his heart desires. How happy he is to be back!! The pain begins to set in. Many back aches along with much pain, arms sore, head starting to hurt, and my legs feel as if they just ran a full mile! The bumpy ride along the horse made my butt feel as though someone beat it with a stick over and over again!

The afternoon in Killarney was nearly close to being over. Once again, a cab was called, and we ventured to the Torc waterfall. The cab driver acted as a tour guide pointing out different historical monuments and areas of interest to visit. He happily brought us to the Torc waterfall under his suggestion and patiently waited for us as we hiked up and then down. After a bit more of history, back to the bus station we went!

Approaching the bus station, the pain sets in. As a tedious bus ride lasted a lifetime, a quality nap was managed to be enjoyed once again! While arriving back in Tralee, and facing the walk through town back to the Lodge, the feeling of exhilaration overpowered the aches and pains. It was easy to relate to the feeling Elkjer felt in “A Blackbird Follows the Heat of the Sun” after searching for Mick Fitzgerald. Even though he did not return with Mick, he was still “exhilarated”, just as returning without pain would have been equally as wonderful, but it was easy to romanticize the feeling of pain with all the beauty and excitement that was experienced throughout the day!

2004-01-07T14:15:00.000-08:00

The sun was peering through the window as the alarm clock began to beep an endless tone. I knew it was time. I was overwhelmed with excitement to enter the Dingle Peninsula and explore new sites that I have probably never even heard about, but at the same time, my tiredness was beginning to overcome me. I walk to the dinning area, sit down, and realize it was too early to eat anymore than toast with a somewhat refreshing glass of orange juice. The breakfast seems to end quite short when up drives Ted, an older Irish gentleman driving this medium size Mercedes van who seems to be awake and excited to start us on our first tour. He awaits us to load the van standing outside with his salt and pepper colored hair and glasses. One by one, all fifteen tired, half asleep, students load onto this van. Following us, comes Professor Smith, her husband Tony, and our personal Irish tour guide Michael. Michael seems quite eager to explain many of his Irish tales, true or not. This bigger fellow with black hair and a trimmed bared starts with his hard to understand accent explaining what we are about to see. Not one of the adults looks as if the early hours bother them in the least bit, while the students seem as if they would rather receive a few more hours of sleep. And so our adventure begins!

The ride seems endless. If I didn’t know any better, I might actually believe I was on a roller coaster. It was long, bumpy, and windy. A seatbelt might have come in handy at a time like this. Ted seemed to be driving faster than would be safe around the bends that were edged by what looked like cliffs. We stop once along our journey to the Minairoe castle to step out into the bitter cold and listen to stories of Irish folk, of ditches, and potatoes being eaten for three meals. I wonder in my head, when will we reach this castle? It is awfully cold to be standing and listening to different storied that could be true or false for all we know. After half an hour of standing outside the van, we load back in, awaiting our arrival to this glorious ancient castle. Not too long after driving on what seemed to be as wide as a one way street, we arrive to our final destination. We once again begin to unload off of the bus. All of the sudden, my tiredness began to disappear and I seemed to become immune to the cold air.

We ventured up this long dirt path to end on some rocks that were about the size of large watermelons, some even larger. As we hiked up the rocks a mini beach surrounded the large amounts of water, which could have easily been mistaken for an ocean, but was said to be a bay. The white sand clear of footprints took up the space from the rocks to the water. Looking above one could only see mountains which Michael explained to be half a billion years old. Resting on the top of these mountains were white, separated clouds. As the class stood admiring the sites that surrounded them, Michael gave a bit of history explaining how all this land had once been a desert.

Eager to see the Minairoe castle up close, we continue to walk towards the path and find ourselves at what seemed to be an old ruin. This purely authentic castle was built in 1475 and looked as if it might collapse in the near future. Michael warned us to be ware of falling stones due to the old age of this castle. He explained we may not want to risk entering inside, but we decide to anyways.

The stones were about the size of two cinder blocks, some a bit smaller. There were cracks going in all different directions along almost every block of stone. You can see the age of the castle in front of us. A green moss was covering much of the inside stone walls and ground which was made up of dirt and sections of mud. The few cut out windows allowed the bright sun to light the inside while the nonexistent ceiling created the same effect. The Minairoe castle had dimensions similar to that of a one car garage and seemed to be about three stories high.

After seeing a bit of the castle and hearing much history we began our hike up to the authentic well based on the top of a hill. We walked up a few steps edged with wood on the dirt path which were slippery because they, too, were covered with moss. After slipping a few times, we made it to the well which was no larger than a coffee table. The outer top edges were covered with grass and in the back center a stone, the size of a watermelon and shape of an oval, sat with a couple of rosary beads draped around it. This stone was called a cross lav. Many years back before the Pagan religion was outran by Christianity, hundreds of people would gather around and hold a Pagan festival. The well was a sacred place for the Pagans, but when the Christians came, they put an end to their traditions and began to have their own Christian festivals in that same spot.

The class of 15 was gathered around the well as we listened to much history surrounding the well and the different people who come and drink from it. He explains there is a cup that is situated in the wall of the well that may never be washed because it is bad luck. Michael also explains in his thick Irish accent that it is bad luck to through coins into the well, which we notice there are a few residing at the bottom. Michael continues his history lessons with many more stories including that of John the Baptist and why he was beheaded. We leave shortly after questioning much of what was told to us, but also with a strong sense of matured knowledge.

This surreal quiet section of Dingle offered many of us a sense of tranquility. The fresh crisp air was left still with few cars and little travel. It acted as an escape from the usual well traveled streets of Tralee.

2004-01-07T11:59:00.000-08:00

• Trip like LSD- coat inside out – spin in circle three times
• Pagan and Christianity
• Average man 14 pounds of potatoes
• Roads built nowhere
• Ditches upward
• Population 10 million- 3.5 million (famine)
• Jaw of Hell- passage to underworld- secret wells
• Tom Cream- South Pole Inn
• Castle Minairoe- Mr. Hussy’s Castle- 1475/1480 castle built
• Pagan Festivals
• John the Baptist- well w/ red berries

The magical spot entering Dingle

Riding down the forever long bumpy road, the bus cam to a halt as Michel guided us off of the bus into the cold, yet crisp air. We stood and listened to many Irish stories about this magical spot. With enthusiasm, Michel told us of a bunch of holes in the wide Irish green lands. If one were to sleep in one of these magical holes, it is stated one would dream better than if on LSD. These dreams are said to have a magical effect. To wake of from the dream, it is possible to become lost and utterly confused in knowing your way out. For this, one would take off their coat, turn it inside out and put it back on, turn in a circle three times, and then be able to escape this magical spot.

14 pounds of potatoes for food

Potatoes, being the main crop for the Irish, were their sole source of food. These quite tall and very large Irish folk delighted themselves in Potatoes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; adding up to 14 pound, on average, of potatoes per day.

Famine

Ireland’s main crop of potatoes may have been sabotaged by the British by poison, or may have just been infected, but either way; this main crop began to die off rapidly. The speedy disappearance of this crop left many of the Irish without food. The population that was once 10 million was quickly diminishing. The Irish population began to drop through many starving deaths and those leaving Ireland. The government then ordered many men to begin building roads. The purpose of these long, zigzag roads traveling up the mountain is still not known. These roads clearly lead to nothing. Today, they still have not recovered from this drastic episode of famine, leaving the population at a lowered number of 3.5 million.

Ditches built upwards

These unusual looking ditches are nothing of what an American would expect to see. Instead of a deep dark hole, these wide ditches are built in an upward fashion. They separate the fields into what look to be large squares.

Tom Cream

Tom Cream was an Irish gentleman seeking to find the South Pole. This Irish adventure hunter was saddened by the fact he was excluded by the three other European men who were venturing to the South Pole. One unlucky man died on his way to urinate after reaching the South Pole, the other two dies only ten miles from their homeland destination. Tom Cream found these two dead with a letter in their hand.

Castle Minairoe- Mr. Hussy’s Castle- 1475/1480 castle built

We travel to this castle that was basically remnants left of Castle Minairoe. This castle, owned by Mr. Hussy, was built almost 600 years ago. This castle consisted of stone probably the size of two cinder blocks put together. They had a broken shape to them with cracks going in almost every direction. Along these stones was a moss type weed growing in random directions. Surrounding this castle were enormous mountains in which the clouds seemed to rest right above them. While looking over to the left of the castle you can see the bright sun reflecting off the large mass of water. With large watermelon sized stones leading the way down to the small beach surrounding the bay.

2004-01-05T08:57:00.000-08:00

Orange is a color that I have never really been fond of, although, I would never say I hated it…until the day I arrived to my new home in Ireland. The “Quinnipiac campus” we were to be staying at looked like a beautiful, homey place. The Kilteely house is a very lovely home with wireless internet, showers that sprinkle warm water on you, soft fluffy carpeting, with the luxury of cable, and even telephones (unless you live in Brian and Sean’s room where it was swiped from under their nose). I, on the other hand, along with five other girls, get to experience true authenticity. How is it authentic you may ask? Well, I’m not real sure, but Beth Anne and I like to tell ourselves this keeping our spirits up there.

Let me give you the play by play. We are fresh off the plane tired, hungry, yet overwhelmed with excitement of what we are about to encounter, this being our two week home. Well, well, well, we should have been overly excited to arrive at our home because it sure is amazing. We, the six lucky girls, sit through our brief orientation of the “do not” list only. Then we begin our hike to the end of the road as we are told we are the “responsible” ones which is why we are living in this cedar lodge. We peer through the window with pure joy at the fact we have our own little apartment. We giggle happy giggles and open to our new home. Then come the rules. Be sure to lock the door because it will not lock automatically, you have to turn the water pump on from outside of the shower, be sure to not shower within 15 minutes of each other (even though there are two showers) because you will get NO hot water. Oh, and as for the toilets, don’t flush in intervals too close to each other even if two people have to go to the bathroom because it just won’t flush the second time around. Also, it was an important note that the heat was not on because they had forgotten to turn that little switch activating our only means of not dying from hypothermia. We are also informed that internet access and cable are not part of our wonderful lodging experience. For those privileges, we have to hike to the house. I peak towards Beth Anne and we giggle once again, but this time in disbelief. It is okay though, I mean no one ever told us about “The Lodge” or the possibility of sleeping in one, but I have gone camping plenty of times, if I could survive in the woods then, I can fight the wilderness again…in the dark…with all girls…and spiders. Oh boy! So, we venture to our bedrooms. We lug our 70 pound luggage up to the top of the stairs, also known as the attic. We take a short right and there lies our two week room; a bright orange color. It is not just the walls my friends, they could not stop there. Someone got a little out of control! This must be Tropicana County; we are in the center of an orange. It is the entire ceiling as well as the many angled walls all painted in this amazingly horrid, bright orange. A mouse could not survive in a room this color, but no worries, there are mouse repellent wall plug ins’, so even they don’t have to suffer as we do. Although, we are lucky enough to have a sky light, regardless of the fact it is 2x2, it does provide some natural light.

We sit on our beds in complete jealousy of all the others who get to sleep in the house with wireless internet, working bathroom facilities, locking doors, carpeting, normal room colors, closet space, and their own bathrooms. We then try to situate ourselves convincing each other this is not that bad. How much time does one really spend in their room anyways? I look at the tiny closet space and offer it all to Beth Anne, after all, living out of a suitcase is not so bad. She eagerly opens it and with a huff closes it quickly. The closet was filled with cob webs! We sit back down and the orange colored walls were really beginning to bother my eyes especially the reflection of it off of my roommates red hair. This could not be happening to us!

Our friends from the house trek down to see our living corridors a little bit after we have attempted to settle in. They arrive with a convincing smile that our place is not that bad. But offer to switch rooms with them and the world is ending. “I love this place, it’s like a club house” states Mike Eysel, but he goes on to say how he would never want to live in it!

I will survive in our lodge that ostracizes us six girls from the rest of our Quinnipiac community just as I survived camping by the water in a thunder and lightening storm. My roommate and I are sure to be okay, even if we have to sleep with the spiders in our orange room.

2004-01-04T06:18:00.000-08:00

My journey to Ireland started a day ahead of most everyone else. Being that my roommate, Katie, is from Jersey, Sean, my boyfriend, and I decided to hop on a ride to her home town along with another friend Kevin Supple on Friday morning. The four of us got to spend a real fun day in New York City walking around, eating pizza and pretzels and searching for the Christmas tree. When we arrived back to her house we were amazed to come home to a huge home cooked DELICIOUS steak dinner. Who could ask for a better day?!? After crashing at her house Friday night, Saturday morning came way too soon! We woke up around 11 and the day of travel began. My roommate only lives about an hour from the city, so we didn’t have to leave all that early. We spent the day wandering around New Jersey. We went to a park and then ate at Johnny Rockets (a fabulous restaurant in Hoboken, N.J.) After a day of pure relaxation, it was time to hit the road. We left Katie’s house around 4:15 and ventured to the gas station, then started our journey to JFK airport.
A day prior Sean was explaining to me how our plane was Aer Lingus, but I argued that it was American Airlines. Well, guess who was right? Katie and Kevin dropped us off at terminal 8. We waited in line for a quick 10 minutes and the lady then stated with a short giggle we needed to be at terminal 4. Sean began gloating how he was right, and I was wrong, but I decided to look at the positive. After all, we get a free train ride!
We take the air train to terminal 4; find Aer Lingus, and it was smooth sailing from there. I checked in with my professor which seemed to ease the anxiety that was beginning to build. What I didn’t mention earlier was the entire hour and half car ride to the airport; nerves were beginning to tense and anxiety beginning to stir inside. I have only been out of the country once without my family, and have never been to Europe. So this was all fairly new. The only thing I had going for me was that I love to fly over any other means of transportation.
People who are in our travel group began to pile in by Gate 3, many engaging in small talk. It is now boarding time. The walk towards the entrance of the plane seemed longer than any other I have ever been on. My ticket number was called first, so I was directed to the back of the plane. I was expecting this flight to be filled with people visiting Ireland, maybe because I was, but I was wrong. It seemed there were many more Irish natives returning home.
I was planning on studying some Spanish on this six and a half hour flight, but instead only read a few pages, watched Everybody Loves Raymond, wrote a bit in my journal, ate and slept. Thinking back, I only slept for about an hour and a half, but it seemed so much shorter at the time. We did hit some turbulence, but overall the plane ride went smooth and it was enjoyable to me.
We then arrived to Ireland. We go through the passport line and it is time to gather our luggage. Now, I always knew European’s were blunt, but my first witness of European interaction was quite interesting. A man eager to get his baggage shoves a woman out of his way and they begin to fight! Swapping curse words back and forth, with mean gestures and faces, it quickly ends and he walks away. I thought we were still in New York for a second!
Now it is to the bus which takes us to our two week home! The air fresh and a bit brisk we are all real excited to be at our final destination. The bus ride was long, but we got to see so many cool sites along the way. Rolling green hills everywhere!! It is GORGEOUS here! It’s so clean, and the air is fresh. I just wish everyone could experience what I am experiencing now!
I will be adding some pictures soon, so keep checking back!!
Kelli

2004-01-01T13:24:00.000-08:00

PART 1

I am quite excited for my departure to Ireland. I’m trying to keep my expectations low so I don’t get let down, but it is so hard. I have such high expectations for this trip. I have traveled a lot in the past, but never a trip to Europe.
I am expecting to experience a culture shock mostly. I am not Irish, nor have I even read about Ireland. I actually have never really thought about even traveling there, but since the opportunity arose, I grew quite excited and cannot wait.
From word of others, I am expecting to see an over abundant amount of “pubs”. I feel that whenever you mention Ireland, the first thing thought by many minds is alcohol. I think it will be interesting to see what these pubs are really all about.
This also leads into a preconception I hold about the Irish. I think of them as big drinkers. They are really able to hold their alcohol consumption, so I hear. It will be interesting to see how much they really do drink.
When I picture myself over in Ireland I get this picture of everything being green! I know this is definitely a misconception, because it would be hard for everything to be green, but it is their famous color. Shamrocks also come to mind. I can picture them everywhere, which is also probably not too likely. Also, how could one not think of leprechauns? The Irish are wonderfully known for their leprechauns.
Aside from all of my thoughts on what I may see or not see, I am expecting to have the best time ever. I am going with four of my friends and expecting to get to know a lot more people. I am excited to become better acquainted with the other classmates and form some great friendships.
I am also expecting to learn and grow to have a great appreciation for Ireland. Through the tours and the books we will be reading, I may just become a pro on the Irish and their homeland!
While I am not too excited for the long flight, I am overwhelmed with my excitement of being in another country and having this wonderful opportunity to study abroad with some great people!

PART 2

All about me!
My name is Kelli-Ann Lesco and I am from Wallingford, Connecticut. I am currently a junior at QU and love the campus along with many of the great friends I have made along my journey their. I don’t go to school very far from home, as you can see, but has been a perfect convenience for me thus far. I lived on campus my first 2 years at QU and this past summer two of my previous roommates and I moved off campus to a condo close by. While we have our rough times, we love each other so much and it is working out really well.
I also have an older sister who is 24. She ranks up there as one of my best friends! Also, I am really close to both my parents who have made my transition to college so much easier than I ever expected.
I have changed my major three times, but finally found my niche in psychology and I love it. I switched my major from the health science school second semester sophomore year. While I was behind in some classes, I am now all caught up. I am also very relieved that I am finally stable in my decision. This obviously reduces a great deal of stress when you are doing something you love and are comfortable with.
I have always wanted to study abroad. I thought it to be a great opportunity for anyone who ever got to do it. The only thing that ever held me back from going a full semester is really a silly reason. I didn’t want to miss an entire semester of events. So much goes on in one semester and I would hate to be away from all my friends and family for that long. I certainly admire those who are able to go for such a long period of time though. This intersession course was perfect for me. It is a two week course to a gorgeous country which I have never visited before. It will be a whole new and exciting experience for me and I am so blessed to be able to go. Also, I get to travel with some great people and meet some more great people. This should be an experience of a life time!