Feeeeeeeeeria in Jaen, Spain!

On Saturday night we went to ‘la feria’ in the capital town of our province, Jaen.  Feria is a week-long celebration filled with parades, mobile tents that turn into bars, restaurants and even night clubs.  There is a part of the city that is sectioned off specifically for this week–long party.  Each town in the Andalucía province has their own feria at some point during the spring or summer.  The Jaen feria is special because each year it’s the very last feria celebrated in all of Andalucía, marking the “official end of summer”. 

Feria = Let’s see, think a fair that never closes, and add to that – loud music, and a lot of dancing and alcohol. 

Think flea market booths, however much larger tents.  At feria, there are rows after rows of booths, restaurants and clubs, each one carefully constructed for that single week of use.  For example, certain booths were entire night clubs, filled with laser shows, cages in the middle for dancing (I am not at liberty to discuss who entered these cages), and others were assembled as full sit-down restaurants.  And the streets are full of people; women to little kids are all wear the traditional, very formal “flamenco” dresses.  Nancy especially enjoyed looking at all of the different styles of flamenco dresses, and thought about purchasing one until she realized the cost was around 150 Euro and she might only be lucky enough to wear it a few times in the spring once feria season starts back up.  The dresses were eye-catching to say the least, usually very bright with multiple colors and polka dots were not uncommon.  Basically, having a feria gives each town an excuse to throw a week long party – as if they needed another excuse…

Yes... those are real ponies.

There was only one way to go to feria and that would be to “do it like the Spanish do”.  What does this mean exactly?  Well, let’s just say we would be arriving by bus at 4:30pm and wouldn’t be leaving (or sleeping) until the first bus back to Linares at 10:30am.  We were going to party the night away using the Spanish mantra “vivimos en la calle” (we live in the street) to encourage our group of 7 brave souls.

Each tent had its own group of people that it attracted, its own themes, and its own personality.   One thing that everyone had in common was the idea to “botellon”, which is the rough Spanish equivalent of “tailgating”.  It seems that very few people actually buy drinks inside the establishments, but rather choose to buy their own bottles of liquor, beer, or wine, and they carry it around all night, mixing their cocktails in between tents.  Obviously, this was a genius idea, so of course we followed the Spanish example.

The purchasing of alcohol deserves a quick mention, as it involved finding a non-descript door in the back of small grocery store where we had to knock and ask the attendant to bring us a bottle of alcohol.  They opened to door only enough to hear you and then again to hand you the bottle, all this occurring under the eyes of a vigilant police officer standing about 2 meters away.  Also, you didn’t really get to pick what you want … there was no menu or list to choose from, so when you said “rum” or “vodka”, etc. they brought you a bottle of whatever they wanted to give you … and you take the bottle and say “gracias”.

Now that we had our supplies, we joined the party.  The real party starts at night … It was complete mayhem; the booths were packed with people and it was amazing to see the different age ranges of people that were out all night.

Nancy made sure we experienced the “fair” part of feria by riding multiple rides – which absolutely added to the fun of the night.  I begrudgingly accepted her invitation to go on the over-priced rides, but am pretty sure I was the one asking her to do it again, once the ride was over.  I can admit it.

Our typical strategy was to roll up into a tent and create a circle, where the group would dump all of our backpacks/jackets/etc. since we were carrying a lot of supplies to get us through the night.  We would drop it like it’s hot for a solid hour, before deciding to leave and check out another tent.

I was mostly in charge of getting the group to try all of the different food options.  I loved the smorgasbord of edible treats that existed.  After getting some food, we would head to yet another tent, it was a beautiful cycle.

I think we all were a little worried when we started to get a little tired around 3:30am.  Admittedly, it was a little worrisome to realize how you were tired, but to also know you weren’t (couldn’t) go home for another 7 hours.  What should we do?

Thank you churros con chocolate!  We found a booth that served coffee and churros (deep friend dough, dipped in chocolate).  It was like a Popeye eating his spinach, we were all revitalized and put our ‘dancin’ shoes’ back on.  Catching our second wind, we were rocking the different booths of the feria, until Nancy decided to lead the group to yet another round of feria rides.

 Yes, Nancy, after drinking multiple cocktails, eating churros y chocolate and a patata asada (baked potatoes with tons of toppings) earlier in the night, thought it would be a wonderful idea to sit on a large circle and spin around very fast for about 5 minutes straight.  Needless to say, I didn’t join Nancy and her entourage that decided to ride these crazy rides, mid-feria, at 5:00am!!  However, the pictures were classic and wish I had joined them for pictures, if nothing else.

5:30am – We were heading down the homestretch of our trip and feeling strong.  We decided to get to the train station right when they opened at 7:00am to make sure we would be able to buy tickets for the first bus back to Linares.  This felt like an incredibly long (uphill) march to the bus station, only to realize that we wouldn’t be able to purchase our tickets until the bus arrives at 10:25am.  At this point, we suddenly lost all motivation ‘to keep the party alive’ and all remaining bodies quickly crumbled on the hard metal beaches – however, after a long night on our feet, they were actually quite comfortable.

7:15am – The night three hours could not get here fast enough, this was probably the least enjoyable part of the trip and we definitely looked like a pathetic crew.  Nevertheless, we managed to make it through these last few hours and somehow were coherent enough to get on our bus, only to pass out again on our 1 hour journey home to Linares.

Walking back to our ‘piso’ in broad daylight, we were exhausted, but felt like we definitely left our mark on the feria in Jaen.  Boom goes the dynamite.

Un cumpleanos muy bien

This year, I got to celebrate my birthday in Spain.  I think Nancy had it pretty easy this year, since my birthday was already going to incredible because … I was in Spain – I guess, it would be pretty difficult to top that anyways.

The day was fun, extremely busy and went by very quickly.  The only disappointing part of my birthday was the fact that I wasn’t able to talk to my family.  Because we don’t have the ability to connect to internet in our piso yet, it has been difficult to stay connected with friends and family.  Our only resource has been a short list of inconsistent WiFi connections at two local cafes and a McDonalds… all three of which, we have probably worn out our welcome over the last three weeks.

So that I can bring everyone along on the journey that was my birthday in Spain, I will provide a real-time, play-by-play summary of the events of Tuesday, October 11^th.

8:45am – Nancy’s alarm goes off at a time that I consider to be way too early, especially given the fact that her first class isn’t until 10:50am.  It’s become apparent that my lovely wife and I prefer quite different morning schedules. As Nancy disappears downstairs, I wonder “Why does Nancy always have to set her alarm so early … especially on my birthday.”

9:06am – After showering, Nancy saunters up the stairs with a grin on her face and a cup of cappuccino for me in bed … and what is this other thing?  Oh, just the best new find in Spain – a circle of dough plucked from the heavens and dipped into a sea of chocolate, a special birthday treat.  Sound lame?  You have to try this sweet nectar of the Gods for yourself.  I think, “What a wonderful wife”.

9:36am – I finally stir and stumble out of bed, walk downstairs and prepare my favorite Spanish breakfast, Tortilla Espanola.  And, by prepare, I mean take it out of its packaging.

11:25am – I’m literally running through the crowded sidewalks of Linares, dodging cars and old couples that take up more than their far share of the sidewalk, while holding hands (they’ve perfected the human obstacle course).  I'm late for my 11:30am bus to Bailen to get to school.

11:30am – I arrive at the bus station in the nick of time.  The driver fusses that I need to arrive early next time, I explain that “it’s my birthday”, as if this is logical defense.  He responds, “Una revalacion” as he rolls his eyes (What a revelation).  When I begin to assume Spaniards aren’t big on birthdays, he quickly smiles and tells me “pero, felicidades!” (… but, congratulations!).

11:36am – The bus is playing American music on the way to school.  Listening to a REM song "Shiny, Happy People" over the buses’ speakers – a band that just happens to be from Athens, Georgia.  I know it’s going to be a fun day.

2:42pm – My third and final class of the day, an English class filled with 15 year-olds, sing me “Happy Birthday” in English.  I will make sure they will all receive A’s this year.

3:06pm – I walk into our apartment and Nancy had already prepared our lunch, a tomato and mushroom pesto pasta – wow, I’m thinking about enforcing a ‘birthday week’, not just a day.

3:35pm – Before digging in for seconds, Nancy stops me.  And she returns from the kitchen with my first present – an assortment of three desserts from a local pastry shop.  We are still adjusting to lunch replacing dinner as the main meal here in Spain, but taking full advantage of being able to eat our biggest meal during the afternoon.  I think we made a strong statement on my birthday for our ability to eat a lot at lunch.

3:44pm – I finally get to open the first care-package my parents sent, we were very excited!

3:45pm – I’m still opening the package, at a painfully slow pace, just to drive Nancy crazy.

3:46pm – Cheez—Itz, I love it.

3:47pm – Cheez—Itz, White Cheddar.  What’s better than one box, yes, two boxes.

3:48pm – Sour Patch Kids, I guess Nancy deserves a present, as well.

3:49pm – Loved all the stuff, my parents are the best.

4:15pm – Had to leave for a private tutoring session with a local Pharmacist.

6:06pm – Finished our one and half hour private English lesson, only to receive a call from a local firefighter, requesting private English lessons for his son and daughter.  In Linares, English speakers are treated like local celebrities.

6:21pm – Meet with the firefighter, Juan de Dios (by the way, John of God is kind of an intimidating name) over coffee, to discuss the future English conversation sessions.  Yes, I will let you pay me to speak English.

7:01pm – Finally return home – Nancy and I have planned a little birthday shin-dig at our place for the night, inviting all of our new Linares friends.

7:46pm -- Enjoying an amazing Andalusian sunset with my wife and wine, on my birthday in Southern Spain – life doesn’t suck.

8:36pm – Our friends begin to arrive.  The wine begins to flow.

10:32pm – Amazing fruit cheesecake birthday cake complete with candles!  I’m officially 29.

11:35pm – Group picture before going out – headcount, 14 people, 6 countries.

12:05am – Departure to the streets, thank you Spanish holiday on Wednesday.

12:40pm – New friend Jose Faya and I make quick work of several challengers at the Foosball table, until getting blasted by two locals.  I’m pretty sure they were on Foosball steroids.

3:05am – Home, sweet, home.

Nancy's first day of school...

I survived my first day of teaching English in Spain!!!!!!!!!!!  Just being able to say that makes me realize that I crossed another big milestone in our trip today!  It feels soooo good to have the first day completed.  I still don't know everything by any stretch of the imagination, but I definitely have some questions answered, all of the teachers were very nice, and overall I feel much better about the next 8 months.  Plus, the best part of being an "auxiliar" (language assistant) is that I don’t have any lesson plans to make or papers to take home and grade! 

My day started with the shrill of my alarm waking me up at 7:00.  I turned it off and reset it for 7:15 – there was no way I was going to get up yet, it was still pitch black outside and I hadn't been up before 10:00AM in the last four days...  I don't even know if I fell back asleep but the alarm went back off at 7:15 and I was up – for those of you who have actually witnessed me getting ready, I don't mess around.  I do everything quickly and the same goes for this morning.  So when I was ready 5 minutes from being ready and Todd wasn't even up yet – I had to go wake him up (he claims he set his alarm for 7:30PM instead of AM... but I'm not too sure).  By the time we were both ready, ate breakfast, and were out the door it was about 8:15 and we were off to the bus station.  When we got to the bus station only one window, out of 5 was open.   After talking to the very unfriendly woman behind window #4, we realized she couldn't help us – we needed to talk to someone at window #1... but the curtain was pulled down, no one was there, and she didn't seem to know (or care) when and if someone would be arriving.  So... we went outside to see if we could find someone who was also heading to Bailen so we could ask them what to do.  I haven’t mentioned yet that we didn’t know how to pay OR what times the bus ran from Linares to Bailen, all we knew is that I had been given instructions to arrive sometime between 9:00-9:30.  After talking to a much nicer woman outside who informed us that the bus schedule for the Linares-Bailen route is taped on window #1 - DUH!  And she also informed us that we could pay the fare (1 Euro each way) to the bus driver on the bus if the window was closed.  So, we had a few minutes to wait, and right before our bus arrived I noticed another auxiliar (who I "met" on Facebook) waiting for the same bus to Bailen, so we hopped on the bus and I asked her close to 100 questions during the 15 minute ride to Bailen.  She was very nice and helpful, answering all of my questions; it was nice to have some reassurance the morning of our first day.

When we got off the bus in Bailen I was SO happy she was there with us, because neither Todd nor I had any idea where our schools were.  She pointed Todd in the right direction and actually walked me all the way to the front gate of my school!  I arrived around 9:15, perfectly in-between the guidelines.   I walked in the door and successfully asked for my coordinator in Spanish - a good start to the day!  I was directed into her office, right inside the front door, and she greeted me, introduced me to a few other teachers and she spent a few minutes finishing up whatever she was working on with them.  This means I was standing there feeling stupid, understanding probably 25% of what they were saying to each other for the first 3 minutes... which felt like 15!  Once she finished up with them we got down to business.  There have been auxiliars at my school for the past 8 years, so my coordinator is very organized and seems to have the process down.  We went through my schedule, what my days at school are going to look like, what days I have to work (when I have days my day off – Friday!), and my basic responsibilities. My 12 hour work-week is spread out over 4 days and I have to say, it reminds me a little bit of college.  Monday, Tuesday and Thursday I work from 10:50-2:00 and on Wednesday I work from 9:00-1:00 with an hour break in the middle of the day… I don’t understand how it works, but school is only in session from 9:00-2:00 here, which means kids are only in school 5 hours a day.  In my time at school I will spend each hour I’m there in a different classroom – I was placed in “grades” 1 – 4, I can already tell working with the younger students is going to be a new experience for me.  I also spend my time working with 4 different teachers (not all of the teachers speak English, so the ones that do share grade-levels)… but the funny thing is; of the 4 teachers I’m working with 3 out of the 4 are on temporary leave.  Two just had babies and the other one broke her leg, so that means I’m in the classroom with three different long-term substitutes– it should be interesting.  After explaining my schedule to me, Juana (my coordinator) gave me a tour of the school and introduced me to the teachers I was going to be working with.  Everyone was VERY nice!!!

After my tour, Juana took me back to her office, gave me copies of the materials we’ll be using in class – the immersion classes I’m placed in are Science and Art, so I’ll be helping to teach a Science (and Art) class in English… at this point I had about 30 minutes before I had to be in my first class, and she had some lessons to prepare of her own, so I spent some time looking through the materials she gave me and really just letting the anxiety build.  Everyone was so nice that I had met, but I still didn’t know exactly what it would be like once I stepped foot in the classroom.

The time actually passed quickly and before I knew it, it was time to walk to my first class.  And little did I know what I had coming for the next 3 hours – the first teacher I was with was one of the substitutes and she spoke very little English.  It’s still hard for me to completely understand people in Spanish, and it’s much more difficult when there’s background noise, like loud children in the background, but we made the best of it and I think I did very well and it will be an excuse to help me learn more Spanish even if that’s not exactly my purpose in the classroom.  I won’t go through and describe every class, just a few points that stick out in my mind.  All of the students were completely enamored by me and the fact that I was from the United States, I won’t go as far as saying they were on the best behavior, but they were definitely showing off.  This isn’t completely abnormal, my students at home would have probably acted the same way… for the first 5 minutes maybe, and then the excitement would have worn off.  But the students today were completely out of control.  Okay, maybe not completely, that might be an exaggeration, but there is definitely a lack of discipline in the school.  Throughout the majority of my three classes there was a running dialogue between the students while the teacher was speaking, and the teacher wouldn’t stop and wait for them to be quiet (only if they got too loud), she would just keep on talking over them.  In the case they did get too loud she would take the dry erase marker and pound it against the nearest hard surface until they were quiet.  “Time out” is also a popular punishment for those students who are especially bad – they’re told to stand facing the corner and be quiet.  Only, once they’re in the corner, the teacher ceases to monitor their punishment, so they basically stand there, with their back facing the corner chatting to the person who is closest… and this usually goes on long enough so that they get each other “riled up” and start chasing each other around the back of the room.  All of this while the lesson continues to drone on in the front of the room – thank goodness I’m not the official one in charge, I don’t know how I would handle it!  But I will say it seems that the teachers are relaxed, enjoy their job for the most part and the students are definitely having fun!  

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any crazier, the bell rang for “recreo”.  Like I mentioned earlier, students are in school from 9-2, but they don’t eat lunch at school.  For the most part, they all bring a snack to eat during “recreo” which is from 11:45-12:15.  This is literally recess, with snacks, where all 250 students run around like crazy all at one time.  Not only are they just running around, they have jump ropes going, smacking into other students, boys chasing each other, wrapping each other in head-locks, kicking each other, etc.  I honestly have to find some way to take a video of this madness before I leave so you can actually see what I’m talking about – in America it would be a lawsuit just waiting to happen.  And all of this is going on with the supervision of maybe 6 teachers at a time (they take turns during this time so they can have their break too).  I haven’t mentioned the sound level yet because I don’t even know what to compare it to – I’ll have to think on that one.  Towards the end of “recreo” one little boy came up with a scratch, bleeding down the side of his face from another kid’s nail and the teachers treated it like no big deal, there was no hurry to find out who else was involved, no talk of sending anyone to the principals office, nothing of the sort.  It was unreal!  

It really was a good day, and by the end of it, most of my worries had melted away.  I think it will just take some time to get used to how their classrooms are organized and run – it was a weird feeling today to be back in the classroom, but not to be the one in charge, but I don’t think it will be hard for me to enjoy taking a backseat!  As I walked out of the building at the end of the day, I couldn’t help but notice the mass of parents waiting for their children at the front gates to walk them home, sometimes I just have to stop and take it all in – life can be so different here sometimes, but I love it!  It felt like such an accomplishment to finish my first day, I was completely exhausted, even if it was only 5 hours – but I had students waving goodbye to me and practicing their “bye-bye’s” on my way out… so cute and heartwarming!  It was only a 5 minute walk to the bus station and Todd was waiting on me – boy did we have a lot to catch up on! 

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

"Istanbul was Constantinople, now it's Istanbul not Constantinople"

If you need a reference to the song - click here!

Istanbul was like no other place we've been before.  It's hard to find the right words to explain exactly why, or what it was about this place that seemed so 'different' but we'll do our best to try.  For those of you who are fans of Disney movies, I (Nancy) referred to the movie, Aladdin, more than once during our 6-day trip if that helps to set the tone.

I think pictures will be best to help to illustrate the uniqueness and appeal of Istanbul, and so we don't get carried away, we'll condense it to a list of the "Top 13" (in no particular order).

VIDEO for #1 on its way...

 #1 - Call to prayer.  Five times a day you hear the "call to prayer" throughout the streets.  This was played on speakers from the minarets at each mosque.  It was a constant reminder to us that we were in Istanbul and very much in the heart of an Islamic nation.

#2 - Apple Tea.  One of the most popular drinks in Istanbul is tea, especially apple-flavored tea (think warm apple cider).  It is served in a small, tulip shaped glass.  Here you can see we sampled one apple and one orange tea at a cafe.

#3 - Nargile.  Also known as "hookah" or "shisha".   Yes, of course we had to blend in with the locals.

#4 - Dolmabahce Palace.  Here we are at the entrance to the Dolmabache Palace. It's decorated extravagantly, even though it was built during the decline of the Ottoman Empire, the Sultan financed this palace with loans from foreign banks.  It can only be visited on a guided tour, and they didn't even allow pictures inside.

#5 - The Blue Mosque.  The best view in Istanbul at night. Luckily we passed by it on our walk home each night.  We also visited the Blue Mosque during the day and the view was quite remarkable.  The official name of the mosque is the Sultanahmet mosque, but it has been given the nickname, "Blue Mosque" because there are over 21,000 Iznik tiles (mostly blue) decorating the interior.  It was beautiful to see, the only part that wasn't enjoyable was the odor of smelly tourist feet - since no one is allowed to wear shoes inside.

#6 - The Turkish language.   Very difficult to pronounce or even try to sound out.  The combination of letters is so different than any other language we speak, or learned in school.  So we resorted to pointing at names if we were trying to ask how to get somewhere.

#7 - Hagia Sofia.  This was probably our favorite, awe-inspiring tourist spot in Istanbul.  It is incredible to think it is more than 1,400 years old!  It was originally built as a Christian church and later converted to a Mosque when the Ottoman's took over.  The inside (which you can see here) is so tall that the Statue of Liberty could fit inside!

#8 - Cats. Imagine the world's largest zoo for cats.  Now imagine someone breaking into that zoo and letting all of the cats out.  That's what it's like in Istanbul - there are cats everywhere!

#9 - Turkish Baths.  No trip to Istanbul is complete without spending a few hours in a Turkish bath (hamam).  We treated ourselves to a Turkish Bath experience on one of our last nights in Istanbul and it was such a treat (we even upgraded with an oil massage). We left feeling completely re-energized and rejuvenated.

#10 - Grand Baazar.  A shoppers dream!  Nothing can prepare you for the Grand Baazar - it is a cluster of small streets, with booth-like shops selling just about anything you can imagine, filled with thousands of people.  The shopkeepers and their assistants are relentless in their quest for a sale. It's a toss-up to say who enjoyed bargaining more, but it was definitely a great experience and we walked away with a few souvenirs...

#11 - Basilica Cistern.  Known as the "most unusual tourist attraction in the city", this underground water cistern was a beautiful and unique sight to see.

#12 - Turkish candies.  I (Nancy) LOVE candy.  Maybe it's because as a child I was hiper-active and therefore I was prohibited to eat anything with sugar listed as an ingredient for the first 18 years of my life.  But I found one candy in the world I can live without, the traditional Turkish candies, or "Turkish delights" in Istanbul.  They are bland, bright colored, marshmallow-tasting candies, but chewier... very disappointing.

#13 - Bosphorous cruise.  A perfect, relaxing way to spend an afternoon - cruising up the Bosphorus River with Europe on one side and Asia on the other.

Goodbye Dublin or Hello Istanbul?

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

The beginning of our Istanbul trip would mark the end of our Ireland adventure – however, it was difficult to know where one ended and the other began.  Was it all the Guiness you ask?  Perhaps.  However, I think it was more of the blurry night (or early morning) we spent at the London Luton airport. Trying our best to take advantage of the cheap airfare throughout Europe, we thought we were smart, or maybe even ‘ingenious’ by booking a late flight out of Dublin into London Luton, followed by a flight the following morning to Istanbul.  We landed in London around midnight, with our flight departing to Istanbul at 6am.  I’m sure we aren’t the first people to spend the night at an airport, but I think it was quite a unique experience at this airport in particular.  We might not have empirical evidence to support us, but I’m pretty sure we were the only passengers that didn’t know there would be an urgent scramble, in order to procure comfortable overnight accommodations within the lonely halls of the airport.  As soon as we exited the plane, the dash began and the passengers flooded into the main concourse, where the cafes and restaurants were located.  We didn’t understand what sparked the hullabaloo.

As we lazily strolled (or as slowly as I am allowed to stroll alongside Nancy “fast-walking” Perzel) into the concourse we realized the airport had turned into a make-shift hotel, with hints of a refugee camp.  People were sleeping everywhere!  We were immediately at a disadvantage as the better spots had already been claimed.  Some people created a cot of sorts, by sitting in a chair and resting their feet on their luggage.  The ‘lucky ones’ had managed an entire metal bench at a closed sushi restaurant, while others had forgone any sense of comfortable and were simply sprawled out on the floor of the airport.  No way we would do this … we have … standards.

Apparently, standards can quickly change at 2:30am at the airport.

Fortunately, we were able to snag a love seat at a coffee shop (thank you Costa Café) that must have been overlooked during the pillage of the airport.  However, we were disappointed to learn that the café would close at 2:30am.  How dare they close a café, at an airport, at 2:30am…

We were in quite a dilemma, and only the type of dilemma you can find yourself in while traveling internationally, at a foreign airport, with overnight layovers.  We have such a tough life.  What shall we do?  We scoured the airport for possible sleeping areas, we even sent two separate unsuccessful search parties (first Todd, then Nancy, and then Nancy again), but the more we looked, the closer it came to the dreaded ‘closing time’ where we would be kicked out into “the streets”.  Our standards decreased with every 15 minutes that passed.  Soon, the people sleeping on the floor, whom we previously labeled as ‘outcasts’ where now part of a club that we wanted to be a part of, if we could only find a spot.  I’m pretty sure at 3:00am the appearance the cold, white tiled floor had visually transformed into fluffy, white pillow squares, at least that’s how it felt when we finally accepted the fact that we were destined for the tile (er, pillowed) floor.

Dare we say we’ve never slept better at an airport?  I know you are dying to see our sleeping arrangement, fortunately it was documented.

As the time for our flight arrived, we grumpily gave up our palatial Tempur-Pedic mattress on the airport floor and boarded our flight.  Sidenote – I think we must have found a good spot, since our spot was immediately confiscated by another set of squatters, as soon as we vacated the premises.

The boarding, flight and landing were very much a blur.  However, we had finally arrived in Istanbul! 

We read that almost everything is negotiable in Istanbul – you really are supposed to negotiate prices for everything from beers, to taxi rides, to souvenirs.  However, one suggestion for future travelers, would be that the Istanbul Visa Control apparently do NOT appreciate attempts in negotiating the $20 visa entry fee.  Our attempts to ‘buy one, get one free” (visa entry) and “two for thirty dollars) proved utterly unsuccessful.   Fortunately, we were still allowed to enter the country, we just had to pay full price.  I think I found the one thing in Istanbul that isn’t negotiable (that and the McDonald’s menu, but that is another story).

After a beautiful one hour shuttle ride into Istanbul (I’m assuming it was beautiful) since Nancy and I slept the entire trip, we arrived at Pasha Hotel -- our hotel for our first two nights.

We both went straight to bed, only to be awoken later that afternoon by the Islamic ‘call to prayer’.  This was going to take some time to get used to.

7 days... 6 cities

Kilkenny

An old, medieval town that was surprisingly more fun than we expected.  A nice change from the hustle and bustle of our three days in Dublin.  It was a fun city to explore; we especially enjoyed our tour of the Kilkenny Castle.  The castle was built at the end of the 12^th century, and a powerful British family and their decedents lived in the castle for the last 600 years (until the 1930’s).  This family adopted the surname ‘Butler’ and we learned that all people with the last name “Butler” should be able to trace their family lineage back to this family, as they were the first family to take on this last name.  We set out to find a restaurant and some live Irish music for dinner and happened to sit next to an older couple celebrating their 35^th wedding anniversary from Ringold, Georgia!  I’ve tried to convince Nancy that I have already got that anniversary present out of the way… 

Kilkenny Castle

Cork

We stopped here for one night out of convenience, since it was the biggest town close to the Blarney Castle, which we were scheduled to visit the next morning.  In Cork, we visited St Anne’s Church, where you can climb the bell tower and actually ring the Shandon Bells.  The bells were labeled with different tunes and there was a booklet with directions to play specific songs, we took turns pulling the different chords and played the song “Amazing Grace”, which could be heard throughout the town of Cork – at least, the few surrounding blocks.  

Playing the Shandon Bells at St. Anne's Church in Cork, Ireland.

We arrived at Blarney Castle in the afternoon to explore the grounds and to kiss the Blarney Stone.  This was a bit scarier than we thought and we actually watched two grown men before us chicken-out as they bent half-way backwards in an attempt to kiss the stone… but we overcame our fears and kissed the stone – the legend says we now have the “gift of the gab”.

Todd getting "the gift of the gab"

Trying not to think about how unsanitary this is...

Private residence at the Blarney Estate.

The Ring of Kerry
The Ring of Kerry is a 180km drive around the Iveragh Peninsula, one of Ireland’s most popular attractions.  We stopped midway through the drive at a Bed and Breakfast in a small town called Waterville.  We woke up to a beautiful, but increasingly cloudy morning, and an obnoxious fair-skinned, redheaded, and freckled child (your typical Irish cliché) berating his mother in the kitchen while we tried to enjoy our Full Irish Breakfast.

Good morning Waterville, Ireland!

Our view from our breakfast spot at our bed and breakfast.

Our breakfast feast!  Traditional Irish breakfast with "pudding" - we won't tell you what it is, you need to try it for yourself.

Dingle
A very cool, small town on the Dingle Peninsula.  Yes, save the jokes … Berry, Ireland doesn’t exist, I already checked.  However, Dingle is known for its musical talents and is also the location where the movies “Far and Away” with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman and “A Quiet Man” with Clint Eastwood.  The drive around Dingle Peninsula was just as beautiful (and less crowded) than the Ring of Kerry.  There is a famous bar Mac Carthy’s, where all the upcoming Irish artists play before they are ‘big’ – likes of Damien Rice, The Script… but U2 never played there.  Dingle was also home to Todd’s favorite bar in Ireland, Dick Mack’s – no trip to the west coast of Ireland would be complete without a stop to Dick Mack’s Bar.  It’s the type of place that feels like it hasn’t changed a bit since it was opened in 1898, for all the right reasons.

Beautiful scenery driving around Dingle, Ireland.

Inside the famous Dick Mack's bar - family owned since 1898.

Doolin

A tiny town with only three pubs, we decided to stay here because of the town’s notoriety for being the very best town in Ireland for authentic Irish Music.  We visited Gus O’Connor's Pub, listened to live music all night and even made some Irish friends that were visiting from Limerick.  

Doolin was also a starting point for our visit to the Cliffs of Moher.  In the morning we received a treasure map, of sorts, from a guy working at the hostel with alternative directions to avoid the heavy parking fee that is connected to this tourist attraction.  Free? Yes. Somewhat dangerous?  Probably.  But was it worth it? Even if Nancy had to walk through a field of cow manure in Chaco’s – yes, Todd would do it again! I will provide you the comparison of the Goonies finding ‘One-Eyed Willy’s’ treasure … yes, it was that awesome.

Our treasure map...

We all make sacrifices... luckily some wash off with soap and water :)

It's a minor miracle we actually made it to the Cliffs of Moher from the directions we were given on the "treasure map" above.

Galway

We had heard that Galway was a ‘must visit’, but honestly, we were a little disappointed.  The weather wasn’t brilliant, which might have shaped our subpar view of the city.  I guess, by the end of our trip, we were tired and ready to relax, which we did in Galway more than anything.  Worth mentioning: we visited The King’s Head bar, which dates back to the 1600’s –  the current building is mostly original, and was given to a local Irishman by the King of England as a reward for beheading the King of Ireland (due to a rebellion).

What do you when it rains all day in Ireland? Find the nearest pub and order a Guinness or an Irish Coffee!

Spending the afternoon at King's Head...

Back to Dublin…

We returned our car this afternoon and only had a couple hours before getting to the airport.  So, what do you do when you have time to kill in Dublin?  Find a pub and drink one final Guinness, of course.   

Goodbye Dublin... heading to the airport

Our last sunset in Ireland

We are both pretty exhausted and can’t believe we were about to begin the second leg of our journey – a week in Istanbul, Turkey.

Driving in Ireland

The difficult thing about driving in Ireland is … well, all of it.  Not only are you on the opposite side of the car, but your perspective is completely different from where your lane starts and stops, but also learning the dimensions of your new car that you’re renting (or ‘hiring’ as it is referred to in Europe).  The changes are immediate, the left lane on the highway is ‘slow’ and the right lane is ‘fast’.  At an intersection, turning left is easier than turning right.

God bless the round-abouts that are all over Ireland.  We still don’t understand why these haven’t caught on in the US, but they replace stop lights and logically make much more sense.  The round-abouts would make turning at intersections much easier.

However, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the condition and size of some of the roads we drove on (so that I may be properly congratulated at a later point in time).  The proper highways (while filled with tolls) where rather typical in size and speed – however, we were only on the highways about 20% of the time.  The rest of the time, we were avoiding disaster left and right, in the form of cow crossings, farm equipment, picture takers (we were guilty, too), and lanes that were not properly paved to fit two lanes of opposing traffic.

Let me explain… First, let us preface this expose’ with this:  when we say ‘every time’ we really mean ‘every time’.  Okay.  Every time we were driving on the back roads of Ireland, it felt like we were driving in some sort of video game, where rules are made up as you go, Demolition Derby might be an accurate title.  Not only were local drivers unappreciative of being stuck behind lazy, scenic route taking, luscious green hills appreciating, sheep gazing tourist, they would ride your tail until you would (a) turn onto another street, (b) pull off the road or (c) assumedly fall off the mountain-side yourself. 

There weren’t a lot of places to pass cars because the country roads were extremely narrow and all seemed to be built on hills or cliffs.  We regularly went with option B, we would pull off and let cars pass and then continue on our leisurely pace – Todd time, as Nancy likes to call it.  Or, let’s just speak the truth and admit we were driving a bit timidly during our first time behind the wheel on the right side of the car, remembering to stay on the left side of the road.

Back to “every time”…

Every time there was another car coming in the opposing lane, I had to actively remind myself to stay on the left side of the road.  “Keep her in the gutter,” the grisly car attendant’s advice was fresh on my mind.  ‘What a smart guy’ I thought to myself in disbelief more than once at his level of genius for providing such wonderful advice.  Every time I passed a car in the opposing lane, it was much more similar to a game of chicken, than it was to simply driving.  I kid you not, the oncoming traffic simply didn’t budge off their ‘half’ of the road, which, to me, appeared to be about 2/3rds of the road.  To clarify, there are not lines marking the middle of street and each oncoming car simply took the space they felt like they needed.  These games of ‘chicken’ usually resulted in Nancy literally being placed in the ‘gutter’, as we would swerve off the road to escape the impending accident.  Yes, I will be glad to chauffer you around Ireland, whenever you wish.

The games of ‘chicken’ with oncoming traffic would continue throughout many of the back roads of southern Ireland.   I guess, the saving grace to all of this, was the incredible backdrop with which were able to narrowly escape these accidents.  The scenery was as picturesque as you could imagine.  The hills were a shade of green that simply doesn’t exist in America, especially in Georgia.  The hills, trail, quick moving clouds was absolutely stunning.  Even with gas costing 1.52€/liter (this would equate to a full tank of gas costing approximately 75€ or $105 – and we were driving a Ford Focus!), it wasn’t enough to dampen the fun of our trip.

Nancy and I were turning into a pretty formidable driving team.  After a steep learning curve, and a couple bumpy, but brief dips into the gutter (keeping Nancy a little too far into the gutter) we slowly but surely settled into a routine that worked very well.  Nancy was the navigator and I was the driver narrowly averting oncoming traffic, the occasional cow crossing, or tourist in the street.  Through trial and error, Nancy had developed into quite an amazing navigator.  Not only were the road signs in Ireland difficult to decipher, but the inadequate map we received nearly split in two as soon as we opened it.  (Maybe the robot did get the last laugh, after all).  Not only was the text quite small for the road signs, but predominately the signs used the Irish Gaelic language with English written smaller, underneath.  Somehow, Nancy was able to decipher these Irish hieroglyphics and tell me (usually) in the middle of the roundabout, which typically resulted in taking the complete circle a time (or two, or three).  Perhaps, a little late, but I think it just adds to our credibility as an excellent tandem.

By the end of the trip, as we were cruising back into Ireland, we felt much more confident than when we had left.  We triumphantly returned to Dublin without any (noticeable) damage to our Ford focus.  We may have over-compensated on the pre-departure checklist of visible damages before we left, just to cover our butts a run-in with an immobile Irish hill or gutter. 

To summarize, there was much more “swerving” than there was “steering”, more “confusion” than “clarity” and more questions than we had answers to, perhaps a little more stress than we had planned for, but it was an incredibly unique, albeit a little too ‘thrilling’ at times, experience, and the perfect way to explore Ireland.

This was an interesting sight the first time we came across cows on the road - it gives a whole new meaning to road congestion.

We tried to find the pot of gold, but someone else must have got there before us...