#12
This blog is by Brian, not Steve.
In a fashion similar to Fonzie showing up on a "Laverne and Shirley" episode, I've been afforded the opportunity to do a "guest spot" on the World by Steve blog, and I'm going to seize this opportunity; this is comparable to my reaction when presented the option of joining the aforementioned Mr. Howson on a short leg during his trip around the world. The thought of frollicking around the Emerald Isle while my cohorts at home were stuck in an office was simply too much to pass up. So, instead of preparing for the start of the 06-07 school year, I spent the last week + some appreciating a beautiful land during the day, and numerous beautiful pints in the evening. I'll paraphrase Conrad, our tour driver extraordinairre, when he stated that just because the Irish head down to the corner pub on a nearly nightly basis, and consume multiple pints of Guinness, this does not, I repeat, does not, make the Irish a land of alcoholics. Indeed, Conrad, indeed. The Irish are simply "social" individuals who appreciate a beer with fellow social humans rather than in the company of crap television.
I'm not going to present this in a journal form, where I recreate what was done on a day to day basis. Truth be told, it would be impossible to recapture the number of moments where I looked up at the sky, at the Atlantic Ocean, the drunken Paddy in the corner, or the Irish lass across the bar and simply smiled in full appreciation for this grand time. Instead, I'd like to make a few observations...so, rather than a "What I did on my Summer Vacation"-type entry, I'm going to present a few funny moments and those that made this expedition so worthwhile.
I anticipated being the oldest member on this journey, and I was prepared for this. However, thanks to the Russian lady who never went out to the bar, the two women from London, and the Canadian lady who threw a fit when forced to sleep in a room with other men, and the lovely Lisa (one year older) I was not quite the oldest traveler, however I was referred to as dad on more than one occasion. This was fine. My experience in age was cancelled out by my immaturity, lack of knowledge about anything pertaining to hostels and backpacking, and inability to take a picture with one of those newfangled digital cameras without it either turning out to be a 5-second movie with a bunch of idiots smiling aniticapting an actual photo being taken, or it being taken a second too late. Essentially, I think I fit in very well on this journey. For the most part, I was not a dirty old man preying on younger female travelers, nor was I an immature man trying to recreate a lifestly ten years too late...I was just right.
The tourism stuff was great. Having been to Ireland five times previous, I had a feel for the joint; however, I had never seen the entire republic. It is more beautiful than I remember. I learned a great deal of Irish history, and have a much greater understanding of the conflicts that have long held this nation back. However, the highlight of this trip was no doubt the people: both those whom I spent days on the bus, and those small town and city people who make one wonder why everyone across the ocean simply cannot be this nice.
So, a toast to the following:
To the people here, who use the word fuck like it's going out of style. In fact, I'm convinced that if I asked an Irishman who the son of God was, he'd reply, "Ahh, tis fucking Jesus, isn't it?"
To Johnny, my "roommate" in Galway who, after stumbling home from the bar minutes after and much drunker than I, proceeded to commence a 15 minute diatribe in which he condemmed both me and the American government for banning him from traveling the states. In his mind, America's insistence that he have a "fucking credit card" is all that is keeping him from appreciating the land of the free.
To Frank, my other "roommate" who, despite his admission that he was a recovering alcoholic, still told me to enjoy my pints before I went out to the bar.
To the people of Dingel, for simply living in a town named Dingel.
To Lisa, the smartest Australian dream interpreter/civil engineer I've ever met.
To Calvin...you're always welcome in Detroit.
To Caroline, the wee sister I've never had.
To the German girl...and it will be left at that.
To the Kiwi on the bus, who looked like the bad guy in the Bourne Supremacy and everyone else on the Paddywagon...you're all good peeps.
To the Hostels...may I never set foot in one of you again.
To Shane and Jane...thanks for your wonderful hospitality, your tour of Dublin bars, and for being great people. Plus, your names rhyme, and that's cool.
Especially, though, I'd like to thank young Mr. Howson, a truly nice human being, fun guy and great travel companion. I hope to one day hit another part of the globe with you.
What have I learned from this journey? That if buying a smaller home, driving a Saturn, and being satisfied with my normal 32 inch television means I'll get to enjoy further worldly journeys such as this, then so be it. Because seeing the world with good people and making wonderful new friends is truly a key cog in the happiness machine.
Cheesy enough? Heading home tomorrow, Spartans kick off in less than 2 weeks. All is right with the world.
Cheers,
Brian
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