nearing the end

One week from today I'll be back stateside, enjoying the comforts of home and trying to make sense of everything that has happened over the last few months. I stay awake thinking about how I dont want this trip to be over and how it feels as though I just left yesterday and now I'm already headed back. Being on the go all the time makes the time fly, but when I really think about all the places I've seen, and look through my pictures, I realize that indeed it has been a while that I've been over here.
I'm now writing this from Simon and Susies lovely apartment in Berlin, which I arrived to yesterday. They've done a nice job with their place, which is nice and open and sunny (or it would be sunny, I can tell, without all the clouds in the sky). They seem more happy and in love than ever, and I'm really really happy to see them both. I have yet to get out and explore this city at all but Susies dad, Remi, is going to take us out on a driving tour of the city later today, which I'm excited for.
The last two weeks in Italy were quite lovely, with lots of great memories in the making. I have to say, though, that I'm glad to be away not so much from the country itself but rather its inhabitants. Italians in general did not make a very good impression on me, and seemed rather pushy and arrogant on the whole. I realize I had a very limited experience with them, but I have a new appreciation for the general courtesy that most people grant to others in the states, and in lots of other European countries, too, but which seemed to be missing in Italy. Mom and I ended up losing track of what day it was in Venice, where we had an apartment bed and breakfast booked for 6 days, and we went back to Rome a day early, which we did not realize until we tried to check in to our hotel there, and the receptionist told us that we were not scheduled to arrive until the following day. Needless to say, we ended up with an extra day in Rome, which was great because we had not really seen all we wanted to in the day and a half that we had at the beginning of the trip. We went to see the Vatican museums and the Sistine Chapel, but were appalled by the lines snaking their way back for what seemed like eternity (we literally could not see the beginning of the line), so we decided to go for a walkabout and come back later to see if the madness had dissipated. We wandered into the square in front of Saint Peters Basilica and lo and behold, who's there but the pope himself, doing is weekly public address.. we could hardly believe our eyes, and were amazed at the fact that we had no intention of attending, as the thousand-or-so other people in the square had, but instead just happened upon him by accident. Pretty cool. When we went back to the line for the Sistine Chapel, we found that the entire line had disappeared and we bought our tickets and joined the throngs inside, but loved it regardless, and were left amazed, like at many other points in our time in Italy, at the power and influence of the church in Italian culture.
Soo.... this could perhaps be my last post for this chapter of my adventures. When I get down about the fact that I'm going home and that the trip is nearly over, I remind myself that not only are the comforts of home going to be delicious, but also that looming in the distance is a perhaps even greater adventure in Costa Rica and Peru, which I have hardly had time to plan or think about, but which I am certain will be wonderful. Lots of good things to look forward to and to reflect upon and to experience here and now... lucky lucky lucky....

Italia

How incredibly wonderful it is to be exploring such a beautiful place with my best buddy at last! To begin at the beginning, though, the last night I spent in a hostel was probably my most uncomfortable one yet. I arrived to Romes central train-bus station at about 11 pm after a long day of transit to darkness and rain. I've heard so many bad things about Italian men in particular that I was very hesitant to stop and ask for directions, and besides this, the vast majority of people you meet dont speak any English at all. I wandered around a while and after an hour or so of walking in the rain I arrived at my hostel to find out that they had overbooked the rooms and so I sat in the "lobby" (a couple of gross old couches next to the two beds that the Indian dudes who run the place sleep in at night, seperated from the rest of the hostel by only a couple of shower curtains) while they juggled people around to find me a spot. They eventually solved the problem and I got my bed and took a shower after I realized that the 24 people to a shower ratio would lead to a long line in the morning if I were to wait. The guy running the hostel spent over an hour standing in the big window of the room I was in, arguing with his girlfriend and keeping everyone awake. Oi vey. I eventually fell asleep, thinking that the next two weeks would be so far from this sort of reality and that comfort was around the corner. The next morning I made my way to the hotel where I was to meet mom and checked in and was completly elated to see her not long after my arrival. It's so wonderful to be able to share this experience with her! We spent the first two days exploring Rome, which is just as lucious as a city could be. The air itself feels thick and juicy... the huge palm trees and enormous old houses and of course the ancient center with the Pantheon, Colloseum, etc, etc... just amazing. We walked till we could walk no more and ate good food and drank fantastic coffee... wonderful. After our two days in Rome we took a train ride north to Florence where we rented a car and got ridiculously lost trying to find our way into Tuscany, where we have been the last two days. The scenery here is exactly what I had imagined it to be, with huge old vineyards and tall cyprus trees and winding roads. We're pleasantly suprised, as well, to see that there are almost no chains of any kind here. No huge hotels or McDonalds or anything of the sort. The beauty is in what this place is and also what it is not. We've been staying in San Giminiano, a walled midevial city atop a tall hill, with incredible panoramic views and perfectly preserved historical buildings. There are really too many details to even write about, so I'll just say that the trip has been a dream come true thus far and it's more beautiful than I ever imagined it could be. It's great to have a travel companion and it's great to be getting out into the far out places that having a car allows one to see. Fantastically wonderfully beautifully grand. That's it in a nut shell. I'll leave it at that.

Amsterdam fun

Just arrived in Brussels after four beautiful days in what is my favorite European city yet, Amsterdam. The city itself looks a lot like Bruges but is a much bigger version, with much more action going on and more of a big city feel to it. The buildings are again very typically Dutch... tall and thin with interesting detailing at the roof line and with big windows maximizing the canal views. There are again arching bridges over the canals, which are lined with beautiful old boats of all types of design. Perhaps the highlight of my time in this city, besides Simons company in general, was the afternoon we spent on rented bicycles, touring around the city with the hundreds of thousands of other people on their bicycles. Seriously, besides the architectural beauty of the city, the thing that most struck me, and one of the things I loved most about the city and the attitude of the people who live in it, was the use of bicycles. For them they are a priority, and have been for many many generations, and it is therefore sortof part of the national psyche to use a bike as a daily way of getting to points within the city. The bike paths are thorough and well kept and logical and connect litterally everything within the city. There are people of every age peddaling together, grey hair or training wheels, it's all there. I was really quite struck by the Dutch people and their laid back attitude, where they are very practical and sensible, they are also easy going and are not people to interfere with the decisions of others. Besides this, they all speak impecable English and are entirely polite and welcoming to the tourists who swarm their city. All in all, it was a very accessable city for an outsider. I felt a bit of jealousy for people who get to live in such a lovely society and such a clean and practical city. There are, of course, the neighborhoods that Amsterdam is notorious for, along with all the beauty and practicality, but these neighborhoods, as far as I could tell, were about ninety-five percent tourists looking to partake in any of the miriad activities this city allows, but really, I dont think the Dutch people themselves are frequenting the "coffee shops" or red-light district on any sort of a regular basis. My favorite areas were definetly far away from these places, in the more residential neighborhoods, which frequently have little squares with cafes where people were relaxing and spending their afternoon with friends or reading, and just generally enjoying the lovely afternoon from what I could see. All in all, Amsterdam was wonderful and I hope that I'll one day be able to return for perhaps a longer bit of time. I was instantly trying to come up with ideas as to how I could reasonably find employment to stay for a bit of time. We'll see... :-) It was also wonderful to spend a bit of time with my beloved brother and get to experience a foreign place with him, no matter if only for a couple of days. Today I'm in Brussels, where there is a nice older neighborhood center surrounded by a lot of financial/industrial sort of buildings. I'm only here for two days and will spend them washing my laundry and repacking my bag in preparation for Itlay, which I'm totally psyched for. It's amazing that I'll be there in only a couple of days, and mom will be there, and it will be warm and wonderful. It's all great and exciting and fantastic. I feel so lucky to be over here.

Bruges!!!

I think I've landed in a little piece of heaven. After the busy busy streets and OH-so-crowded metros of Paris, I took a train north to Brussels (first class due to a very nice train station ticket window guy who gave me a sweet deal), and then another train further north to Bruges, a city that will forever bring to mind the Europe that I always wished to see. Its seriously beyond me to adequately describe this place with words. It's like landing in the middle of a fairytale except that there are people who actually live and work here and it's not just a make-believe village built to appease tourists who are searching for "old world Europe". Everywhere you look is a flawless vision of a 15th century Flemish village, with canals cutting through every direction and little arched stone bridges, and tiny, winding cobblestone streets and huge peaked stable doors. The main square has spiring cathedrals that have bell chimes at each hour (I've heard this is one of few cities in Europe who still employs a full time bell chimer for their main squares clocktower). Today the air is thick with cool moisture, not rain, but very atmospheric, and the light has a very soft look to it, making for what I hope will turn out to be beautiful photos.
There are, of course, tourists absolutely everywhere. I try my hardest to get away from them though and go for walks in the fringes of the city, away from the shops and public squares, and try to feel for what it is like for those who live here. There's a little bar underneath my hostel where I've been getting a pint of different Belgian beer each night of my stay and I talked for a while last night with a man who has lived here his entire life and says he wouldn't imagine living anywhere else. I told him he was lucky to live surrounded by such beauty, which I'm sure he already realized. My hostel has been one of the best on this trip thus far, in a 500 year old building, and thanks to the hostel-bed-placement gods, I got the best bed in the house, right next to the window, with a view of the magnificent church across the street to fall asleep and wake up to.
I am a bit sad to leave but I must. This city will certainly be one of my top suggestions to anyone who in the future might ask me where I would recommend travelling in Europe. Tomorrow I go to Amsterdam, where I'm extremely excited to meet up with Simon for a couple of days of carousing. I miss my brother and very much look forward to some good catching up. Lots to look forward to, but this moment now is still so sweet.

Sickly Paris

During my last night in Dublin I felt a tickle in my throat developing and so I made myself a really healthy dinner and got to bed early to try to turn things around for my long travel day the next day. I got up before the sun, packed my things in the dark to avoid waking everyone else in my room, and in doing so left my watch behind, much to my frustration. I made it to my 6:45 bus and was again on my way. I arrived to Paris Beauvais airport, which is a tiny one-terminal airport in the middle of a huge agricultural area. I got a bus to the city center, got severly confused by the metro map and eventually found someone who spoke a little bit of English and could point me in the right direction. I eventually found my hostel, checked in and just dropped my bag and headed out to get lost. I was promptly decended upon by paritculrly annoying and persistent men who didn't seem to think it would be a problem that I spoke virtually no French. Mere details. oi vey. I eventually elluded the most annoying one by running into the middle of a huge crowd of people outside Sacre Couer Basillica. However, I was not long left alone and a much nicer guy named Amine ended up showing me around for the better part of the day. I saw the Moulin Rouge and Eiffel Tower (really quite a nice moment for the fact that it had stopped raining moments before, the clouds parted to a bright blue sky, and there was a beautiful rainbow soaring over the tower). We sat on a bench and talked as much as was possible considering Amines broken English and my broken vocal chords. By the time I refused Amines invitation to dinner, I could barely speak. I went back to the hostel and met my room-mates, three girls from Slovenia, who were really fun and a bit disappointed when I refused their invitation to go out drinking with them. I instead went to sleep early and tried to concentrate on getting better. Unfortunately I did not wake up feeling any better, but took some Motrin and headed out anyway. I wore my iPod earphones all day with no music playing in an attempt to thwart off the annoying men, which luckily worked quite well. I went to the Louvre, through the huge gardens outside the Louvre to the Champs Elyseé and to the Arch d'Triumph. Everything is beautiful and well kept here and so far I have not met anyone rude, as their reputation in the US always made me think they would be. I only wish that I didn't feel as though I'm about to collapse at any moment, which I'm sure will pass. I know I shouldn't be walking for miles and miles but I find it impossible to think of not exploring such a place. Anyhow, this message is taking forever to write because the letters on the keyboard are all in different places, so I'm going to call this done and get back to the hostel and to bed early again. Hope all is well on the homefront. I keep having dreams of returning but then in all these dreams I realize toward the end that it's just a dream and that I still have a lot more to go. I have a countdown to Italy, and more imortantly to seeing Mom, but in the meantime, know that you're all here with me, if only in dreams. Love to you all.

last days in Ireland

Three more days on this lovely isle and I'm off for the next phase of this journey. I have mixed feelings on leaving because really, it's been amazing. I finished working on the farm yesterday and was a bit sad in leaving today. Although the work was hard (really hard at times), the people were really quite wonderful and made me feel like I wanted to stay longer. Perhaps one day I'll return, who knows... next time I'll bring a car, so I wont have to hitchhike everywhere I go (although this proved to be a great way to meet a fun array of people!). Anyhow, I'm back in Cork right now, staying again with Denises friend Anne, and the family she works for. We'll be here two days and then I'm off on my own again, headed for Dublin for one night and then off to Paris early on Tuesday. I'm sad also to say goodbye to Denise, who has been a grand commerade in the last three weeks. We've shared some unforgettable moments and I'm really just eternally grateful for the gods throwing us together. Tonight we're going out to some pubs to drink a few more Bulmers and hear some music and inevitably be decended upon by charming drunken Irishmen (I dont think I've mentioned yet how incredibly fun the pubs are here... another thing I'll definetly miss!).
Anyhow, onward and upward! I'm psyched to see Paris and I'm sure it will be an adventure unto itself.
Today is my one-month point, and I'm absolutely amazed at how much has happened in the short span of 30 days. I think that a lot of you reading this think I've had bad luck and that things have not gone well, but really, in my eyes, things have gone flawlessly and I'm grateful for all the crazy/fun/weird things that have happened. All money in the bank as far as life experience goes.
I'll let y'all know I'm alive once I've landed on the continent.
till then,
xoxo

improvements

Things are looking up this last week, thank god. It's been a strange trip thusfar, as you all know, but certainly not uneventful. After escaping seven directions Denise and I went back to Cork, stayed in a hostel for a night and I arranged our last farm trial, this time at a place called the Unicorn Eco Foundation, a farm aimed at self sufficiency, who had a lovely website that had pictures giving us hope that it would be semi-liveable. We took the evening bus to Glengarriff and got off at yet another little village stop in Ballylicky, this time very far to the west in a very dramatic landscape not far from the ocean. We were met at the gas station which was also the bus stop by a nice English lad who brought us, along with his brother who come to find out, was on the same bus all the while, out to the farm. It was dark when we arrived so we had little idea as to what the area surrounding us was like. We buzzed down long dirt roads, listening to Fairport Convention, and I had a good feeling that we were going somewhere nice. We arrived to total darkness and were led to our caravan (trailer) that would be our new home. Again, it's not luxury living, but the beds were comfortable and we were happy to at least be in the presence of good people. A bit of discomfort is liveable when you like the people you're working with and for. We were led to one of the larger houses on the property and were introduced to Vickie, our new wwoof host, who is a really lovely, kind, and welcoming woman who made us tea and sat down to talk for a while. The next morning we woke up to an absolutely spectacular view out our camper window. Huge rocky mountains soaring up in every direction and a valley directly in front of us with horses grazing about and birds singing everywhere. Just incredibly beautiful. The work has been decent thus far, and varied, a bit of weeding, some mixing of concrete for the footings of a bridge they're building for their newly constructed pond, some shoveling silt from a river bed (not my favorite job thus far), digging up onions, etc, etc. We eat two meals a day on a rotating schedule among the three main people living out here. They're all really kind and I've had a great time talking with all of them. Each of them has an interesting story as to how they have gotten to where they are today. The farm itself is really impressive. The main house is the most energy efficient dwelling in all of Ireland and runs on less than one euro per day (and it's a massive house!). They're building a pond to raise their own fish, and a greenhouse to grow their own food, they have an elaborate wastewater treatment system using reed beds and different wetland plants to digest their waste, and they do most all the work themselves, along with the help of wwoofers and short term resident specialists. All in all, it's good and I'm grateful to finally have landed somewhere decent for the last of my time in Ireland. At the same time I'm excited to move on from the wwoof life and get back to traveling around a bit more. It's a beautiful place I'm living for now, but I get claustrophobic sometimes and just want to keep the adventure going. So, I've booked a flight to Paris for the 25th and will be staying in the city for five days before attempting to make my way to Rome via buses and trains. Talking with a French man who is on the farm, I've been told that this is quite a long trip, but I feel confident I'll make it in time to meet mom on the 9th of October. I'm a bit nervous to be going somewhere non-English speaking, but I feel a bit more prepared through my time in England and Ireland at least, and I'm sure it will all be fine. Thank you to everyone who has written me words of support after my last posting. Really, it was more funny than horrifying, and it all just adds to the adventure. I'll let you all know I'm alive once I'm in Paris. Till then, a'dieu.

My weirdest day yet

Ok... so things just get more interesting every day. I just sat at a cafe in Cork again and wrote down the events of the last 24 hours so that I would remember them in detail. Instead of recapping it here, I'll just copy my journal verbatum.
Sept 11, 2007:
"Sitting at a cafe in Cork City right now, feeling like I should put down the events of the last 24 hours so that my memory of them will be strengthened when I look back.
Took the early bus to Mogeely and arrived around noon to another sleepy little town with very little going on. I left Denise with the packs and went off to find some place that looked open so that I could ask where the lady in the tipee lived, as this was the directions I was given to find the new farm. There was little life to be seen and as I rounded the corner I saw a punky hippie kind of girl walking down the street. I stopped her to ask where I should go, only to find out that she was, in fact, looking for me, too. We went back to Denise and collected our bags and were on our way to the farm. The walk was about 15 minutes uphill, not too fun, especially for Denise, whose pack is excessively heavy with tons of extraneous bundles tied to the exterior. We came to a point where there was a tiny dirt path branching off the main road which we were led down, walking all the while on wood planks that lined the walk. As we neared the farm strange curiosities began to show up in abundance - a tree with televisions, phones, and doorknobs hanging from ropes beneath its boughs, horses roaming freely through a field with a few chickens and home-made structures mixed in. We were led first to our accomodation- two A-frame simple tents that were lined with plastic on the outside and patchworked carpets on the inside. The "beds" were wood palates with thick layers of cushions and FILTHY blankets strewn about. These tents smelled as if they were occupied by horses and dogs before they were occupied by dirty hippies who never showered and instead bathed in mud and then rolled around in the bedding. We dropped our bags and were brought out again to meet Astrid, the matriarch of the seven directions farmstead. We were led again down wood board covered dirt paths to what basically looked from the outside to be a pile of garbage covered by thick clear plastic. There was a small doorway into the dome. Inside there was intensely thick clutter everywhere - weird random objects, books, clothing, cats and dogs, dishes, drums, boxes filled with who-knows-what, empty tobacco envelopes, half drunk cups of tea, and a little lady named Astrid, who emerged from the clutter but who could have meshed back into it like a ghost into a patch of fog. She stood no more than 5 feet high and spoke with a thick French accent - she was smoking a cigareette with a long wood handle and had a strange half smile on her face as she walked toward us to welcome us to her strange, very distorted reality. Carolina, the hippie chick who had picked us up, excused herself to return to her weeding, and Denise and I stayed to have a chat with Astrid. She offered us tea, which I denied, and Denise politely accepted. She rummaged through a pile of junk until she found a coffee mug, and prepared the drink which had a thick layer of dust floating on its surface. We sat down on half broken piano stools and talked a bit about life, a bit about gardening. Astrid seemed to have had an exceptionally strange life which was really no suprise considering how she was living now. She had been living in this tent for 11 years and was originally living with a number of other characters who had since left the farm to persue other realities. We eventually got up to take the "grand tour" of the property. She showed us the polytunnels where they grow their food (these were the cleanest and most well kept spots on the property), the "bathroom" and "shower" which Denise and I explored more later, and the skeleton of a structure in the midst of being built. There were other plastic dome like homes we did not go inside of but that were surely equally weird to the rest. Scattered throughout the property were strange objects in strange places... mannequin bodies hanging out of trees, strange messages written out of broken peices of street signs and license plates and so on. We were assigned the task of picking green beans and planting some peas in one of the polytunnels. We were quickly devising our plan of escape once we were left alone. We picked beans and tried to adjust to the situation we found ourselves in. I questioned whether I could last a week - just roughing it out- I decided that if I did, I would just wear the same clothes every day, not take any showers, get really disgusting, and then escape to the city again where I could wash the filthy experience away. We heard clanging of pans outside and I found Carolina to ask whether it was a signal of some sort. She told me that it was the dinner bell. We saw Astrid coming toward us with a bag of food. She said she was not going to join us as she was not hungry, and so she gave the bag to Carolina and we were led to the dining area, another plastic covered, carpet lined structure, this time with two walls opened to the elements, again surrounded by crazy objects and messages scribed all over the walls. The table, plates, chairs, and floor were all coated with a thick layer of dirt, as was Carolina herself, once I got a closer look. The lunch was unpacked from the bag - a bowl of lettuce, some bread, and some pasta mixed with eggs, mayonnaise, and cucumber (and, as Denise and I both later found, a good quantity of dog hair). We were served all of this with filty silverware onto filty plates, and we sat down to the filty table on our filthy chairs and ate with our filthy hands, unwashed after our work in the garden due to the fact that a sink did not exist on the entire farm. The food, combined with the experience, was a repulsing mix. We ate anyway, and talked with Carolina, who was a crazy hippie with the dirtiest hands one could ever imagine. She had cut off all her hair so that she would not have to shower often and to fend off her stench she just put on copius amounts of patchouli oil, which wafted off her everyhwere she went. When the meal was over, we walked back to Astrids tent where Carolina put all the dirty dishes into a bucket of murky brown water in order to "wash" them.
Denise and I said we were going to return to our work and once out of earshot, began devising our escape in earnest. On our way back to the polytunnel we stopped to check out the bathroom and shower situation in more detail - what looked like a pile of carpet layered on a wood frame. One side was the "shower" which was a linolium square on the ground with a hose hanging down from above. The other half of the structure was the toilet, which was no more than a hole in a board with a toilet seat fastened above, all of which was covered in a thick layer of what I hoped was dirt and not dried excrement.
This moment was the last straw for both of us. We took a few photos to remember this strange dream and went back to our tents to collect our belongings. I wrote a quick note saying that the situation was not what we had expected and that we were on our way. I tacked it to Carolinas door, we grabbed our packs, waited for the coast to be clear, and made a break for it. We ran up the dirt path and back to the road and put out our thumbs to catch a ride back to reality. A man from the nearby cheese factory stopped for us and brought us to Castlemartyr, the closest semi-larger town, where we got a bus back to Cork City, where we checked into a hostel for the night. We called another farm that I had talked to earlier, one which has a website with pictures making it look semi normal and liveable. They told us that they had room for us and now here we are, waiting for another bus to another farm. I certainly hope this one will be more reasonable than the last two. I seriously doubt that it could get any worse or any weirder. This will be my last attempt at the whole farm thing... if it doesn't work out this time, I'm just going to travel about and stay in hostels for a while longer.. What a crazy trip this has been"

So, family and friends, there you have it: the next installment of my crazy adventure. I seriously fall asleep laughing every night at how crazy it's been... I never could have anticipated this. I'll keep you all posted as to what comes next. Pray for me! :-)

free at last!

Wow... what a crazy 24 hours I've had... After writing that last post I returned with Denise and her friend Anne-Marie to the hotel where Mark was playing his gig and sat down at the tables outside and had a drink and listened to the music. The band took a break for a half hour or so and Mark came out and introduced us to a couple of his friends and they proceeded to go back to a dark back area of the deck, out of sight of any of the people outside. When Mark came back ten minutes later he was sniffling his nose a lot and had a glazed over look in his eye... like he was about to pass out or something. I knew well enough what was going on (aided by the fact that on the ride into town he had told me all about his "drug years" and how he was now clean... He also claimed to be a safe driver, so I knew he was clearly delusional). He went back inside and the band started up again. Denise and I quickly flew into action as to how we were going to avoid getting in the car with him in the state he was in. The ride into town was bad enough and we did not want to find out what the ride back would be like under the influence of a few lines of cocaine and a couple of pints of beer. We went to a taxi stand and found out it would be about 80-euro to get a taxi back to Clonakilty, where we would have to proceed to walk to the farm, about two hours by foot on very dark, very narrow country lanes. The next option, and the one that we went with, was to stay with Anne-Marie at the house where she is an au pair. I told Mark we would catch the first bus in the morning to get back, to which he dared respond "well... I suppose that's alright... it just means you'll have to work late" (such a fucking slave driver!). I said we would be ok with that and that we would see him tomorrow. We caught a bus to the area of Cork where Anne-Marie lives and a little past midnight we arrived and were welcomed in by Marie and Dominique, two of the kindest people I've met in my life. They brought us cold drinks and sat us down to talk about the situation. They were genuinely concerned with the situation and Dominique insisted that he would bring us to Clonakilty in the morning to collect our belongings and clear out of the farm. We slept in comfortable guest beds with clean white linens and real bonafide pillows... bliss... Dominique woke up early and brought us to Clonakilty, over an hour each way, bless his heart. We were delighted to find both Mark and Debbie gone... we packed up as fast as we could and bid farewell to that god-foresaken place. I let out a sigh of relief as we drove away, knowing it was the end of a strange, sometimes scary, sometimes hillarious situation that I will certainly never forget for the rest of my days.
Denise and I have decided to look for a farm together to go to next week, and in the meantime, Dominique and Maria have told us we can stay at their house as long as we need in order to get a new plan worked out. Angels, I tell you!
I sometimes feel like I'm caught up in either a dream or a movie, where I dont know what the next plot turn will be. I'm intreagued to see what happens next, and I'm quite sure it couldn't get any worse. I'm happy despite the craziness though. I'm delighted to be off the farm and on with new things. I'll let you all know what my next move will be once I know. LOVE YOU ALL!!!! mwa! (that's a kiss for each of you!)

oi

well, I'm still alive. That's good. I'm writing from Cork City right now, where Mark (the wwoof host) has a gig tonight playing salsa music at a hotel. The ride in was absolutely HARROWING!!! I've seriously never been in such a fast, unsafe situation in my life and I prey that I get back to the farm alive tonight, and will not leave again unless on my own two feet or on bicycle wheels. Seriously, I wanted to scream at him the whole way in. OI VEY.
Anyhow, farm life is... well... It's hard to think of the right word.... I'm at least getting used to the abuse. For the last week I have done 21 hours of weeding and 14 hours of turning hay out in a field. THANK GOD for my new friend Denise, who makes it entirely liveable for the fact that we can complain to one another and make up ridiculous stories about what we could do for pay back once we leave. Our best idea yet is to save every slug or snail we see in a jar until the end of the month (giving them food to stay alive, of course) and then setting them all free in the greenhouse the day we leave to have their way with the food inside. The other idea is to set the goat free on their flower garden. That would be equally delicious payback. We've renamed Mark "vassa kopf" (water head) because there's not much upstairs besides hot air and a bit of water, and we've named Debbie "the tiger". We have good laughs coming up with stories of the adventures of "Vassa Kopf and The Tiger" while we're working. So.... things are ok I suppose. I know that I'll look back at this experience and laugh a lot. Meanwhile, my face is completely sunburned and I have really pronounced farmer tan lines on my wrists from my work gloves and my arms from my t-shirt. Oh well, I guess. My blisters are also pretty impressive. At the end of the day I pour myself a glass of wine (which I brought from town last weekend... a bit of luxury amidst the pain and isolation) and cross one more day off my countdown calendar. I'm looking forward to being done but at least I have a friend now, and stronger muscles, and the prospect of brighter things in the future. At least it's not raining (famous last words....)

First days on the farm

I arrived late Friday night after a long bus journey from Galway to West Cork. Mark picked me up at the bus stop, which was completely pitch black dark and seemingly in the middle of absolutely nowhere. After a short drive to the farm, I was introduced to my new living situation, which was pretty much what I had expected: a trailer near the main farmhouse with absolutely nothing luxurious about it. There's a kitchen with a hotplate, sink, fridge, and microwave, a bathroom with a decent bathtub but very little hot water and a leaky toilet, two bedrooms, and a living room with nothing more than a couch and a table. Because it was late, I pretty much went to sleep right away on what is, I'm sure, the most uncomfortable, lumpy bed I'll ever sleep on. I woke up early and got a good look around my surroundings, which made up for the horrible bed and leaky toilet... kindof... In the listing for the farm it had said that it was located in Clonakilty and that it was a fifteen minute walk into town, which I figured ment a fifteen minute walk into Clonakilty, which I had read about and knew to be a cute town with lots of shops and places to see music at night. However, the reality of the situation is that it is a fifteen minute walk into the TINY village of Rathbarry, which is a sortof sub-village of Clonakilty. Clonakilty itself is more than a half hour by bicycle and probably an hour and a half by foot. Rathbarry itself is literally no more than a post office and a pub and nothing else. So much for thinking I'd be able to go out to see music after working for the day. Sooo.... that was a bit of a disapointment. It is a short walk from the beach, however, so at least I'll have that as a destination for the afternoons where I get off work and want to get away for a while.

The farm itself is rather lovely. It's atop a large hill with the ocean in the distance to one side and rolling hills covered in pastures of cows and sheep in every other direction. Ireland as I had imagined it, for sure. The farm house is rather modern in terms of Irish farmhouses. The owners, Mark and Deb, bought the house two years ago and renovated the place to their own liking, which is sortof an artsy, more alternative style than most of the homes surrounding. There's a polytunnel (plastic greenhouse) and they have one enormous goat named Alexandra, who lives right outside my bedroom window, which was a suprise when I woke up and pulled the shades open to see her peering in. There's also ducks, an orchard, a field for straw, and lots of flowers everywhere. Mark and Deb are both quite nice, although I already see that they dont have any reservations about airing their marital disputes in front of anyone who might be there at the moment, which can be a bit awkward. They have two 8 month old twin boys who keep them busy along with all the work they put into their farm, which provides them with probably about 80 percent of the food they eat. It's most certainly not an easy lifestyle that they live and I respect them for the fact that they persue it to the extent they do. I dont think I could live in such isolation myself though. Deb is English and has a sortof vivacious, bubbly personality and Mark is a proud Dutchman who speaks with a Dutch/English/Irish hybrid accent. He's rather intense and opinionated and definetly lets you know if you're doing something in a way that he would not advise. I think I'll get along with them fine though. I'm glad to at least have some space of my own to get away for a while in the evening. I'd feel a little like I was walking on shells if I were to have to share their living space with them.

Yesterday was my first full day of work. I was assigned to weed around all the trees in the orchard and spent a full 7 hours doing so. Oi vey. I tried to enjoy it as much as possible but periodically questioned why I wasn't at home pulling weeds for mom and sleeping in my much much more comfortable bed. I'm over thinking like that, though, and I remind myself that my comfortable bed and Shelburne, and the people I love most will all be there when I return, and this will be an experience that not many people get to have and so I should maximize it. It's not all bad, anyway. We take a "coffee" break around noon (I put coffee in parentheses because their coffee is powdered and not nearly to the standard of American coffee, but I try to enjoy it as much as possible. At least it's warm.) There's also a dinner break around 3:00, which is the main meal of the day. I enjoyed this very much yesterday, considering that I've been eating canned soup and jelly sandwiches almost exclusively during my hostel days, in order to save money. Mark is a good cook and made a delicious veggie dish with all things grown on the farm, and a mushroom soup and some pasta. These breaks make the monotony of weeding a little less severe, and besides, I'm promised that I will not be weeding every day and that there will be more stimulating projects coming in the future.

Today a new girl is coming out from Germany, who will also be living in the trailer. I prey that she's cool and that we get along well. I'm actually excited to meet her and I hope that she'll be a good commerade who will go out to the pub with me once in a while, and who I can play chess with in the evenings, or at least talk to during our work.

Today is Sunday and I rode Marks bike into town. The ride was absolutely beautiful, past farm after farm after farm, with lots of pastures of cows in between. This area is known as a dairy center for Ireland and during the day farmers come yipping down the street after their herds, moving them from pasture to the milking parlors and then back out to pasture. Tomorrow its back to work (it was good planning on my part to start on a Saturday so that I had the next day off!). The work schedule is 7 hours a day, 6 days a week, which I think is a bit severe, but I'm just going to roll with it and make the best of the situation. I'm constantly reminding myself of the future and of the fact that in a litte over a month, I'll be relaxing in Italy with my wonderful Mother, and then I'll be going to see Simon and Susie, and that I only have to be a "farmer" for one month and then I'll go back to my much more comfortable existance. I'm starting to miss things about home, like my mother, my bed, Pippin the dog, my car, etc, etc... but I guess this experience will make me appreciate all those things more when I get back. I'll write again in a week, after I've had a true week of work. Maybe I'll be a bit more pessimistic then. Really, though, especially you, Dom, dont worry about me! Besides the mini hardships, I'm delighted to be living and working in Ireland and all I have to do is take a look around me to remind myself of that. It's lovely here and I'm getting just what I want from this: Experience! Lots of love to you all!!!

The Good Life: Aran Islands

The last couple of days have been downright delightful. I gladly left Dublin on a bus headed west to Galway on yet another sunny day! (It has not rained one drop since I arrived in Ireland. Lucky, I'm told) Galway itself was a cute town. Very touristy. It sortof reminded me of an Irish version of Rockport or something. Lots of little shops and cafes, lots of street musicians playing all kinds of Irish music, my favorite being a girl playing beautiful music on her harp. I was only in Galway for half a day really before getting up early to catch a ferry out to Inis Mor, the largest of the three Aran Islands. The ferry ride was about an hour long and very very windy. I see that being a fisherman in these parts, which there are plenty of, would take some tenacity. I checked into my hostel and rented a bicycle to take a look around the island. SO BEAUTIFUL!!! There are only about 600 people who live on this island which is just a little smaller than Manhattan (10 miles long by 2 across). They all speak Gaelic and live a very traditional lifestyle. Lots of the houses are the old fashioned cob plaster with thatched roofs and there are stone walls absolutely EVERYWHERE!! I biked all day, from one end of the island to the other and then back again with a few excursions on some narrow lanes used to bring cows and horses to their pastures. There are some cars here but some of the natives still get around on horse drawn carts. It's seriously like stepping back in time. It's easy to imagine what life would have been like out here a hundred years ago. I went to a world heritage site called Dun Aonghasa which was a huge iron age fort built on the highest ground of the island. All that remanis of it is a stone circle which was at one time the base of an enormous dome shaped fortress. This was built on the very edge of a huge cliff, probably 500 feet tall, plumiting straight down to the sea. Just incredible. Today I woke up early to the sound of gulls outside my window. I ate toast and tea for breakfast out on the deck of the hostel, looking out over the pier. I'm sunburned and hoping that the clouds will stick around today. I surely did not think I'd need to bring sunscreen to Ireland! I'm going to put on my walking shoes and venture out into some of the areas that I could not go yesterday with my bicycle. It's so nice to be out of the city and in such a peaceful and serene place. The sea air is wonderful and the slow pace of life here is refreshing. Two more days and I'll be on the farm. I'm anxious to meet the people I'll be staying with for September but I'm sure it will all be great. I definetly look forward to not moving around quite so much and not having to pack up all my stuff every couple of days. I'll write again once I'm settled down there. Love to you all!!!

Dublin Schmublin

Today has been a long day. Started out well with a sunny day at last. I ate a breakfast of coffee and raspberries, bid fare well to my London hostel mates, and was on my way. For the record, London was wonderful and I had a great three days walking around and meeting really great people nearly everywhere I went. So... today was a day of transport and little else. A subway to a shuttle to the airport. The flight was only an hour but seriously, that hour was the most intense stereophonic surround sound screaming baby hour I've ever had in my life. Luckily I was in good enough spirits to laugh it off and feel good about having my ipod on hand to block it out as much as was possible. I was also lucky to have a window seat so that I could just stare out at the beautiful patchwork of England's landscape. Once on the ground again I made up an elaborate story of how I know my "friends" in Ireland for the customs officer and was pleased that he believed me and let me into the country. I felt like such a bandita. Once out of the airport I got onto yet another bus which brought me into the center of Dublin where I was promptly completely lost. I wandered into some shop and asked the man at the desk how to get to my hostel and he was kind enough to escort me half way and pointed me in the right direction, which was exceedingly kind of him. I was so relieved to arrive at the hostel where I would finally get to put down my pack and take a hot shower and lie down to read my book. However, this is far from the reality of the situation. I opened the door to my room to find nine half naked Irish dudes simultaneously turn to see who was coming though their door. They were polite enough and said hello, but I got the impression that they were all friends who had come to the city together and were not there as travellers per se. They were all getting ready for a night on the town and their disgusting cologne mixed oh-so-nicely with the inevitable boy stink body odor. mmmm..... Anyhow, I basically just said hello, dropped my pack, and decided to head out and take a look around. My initial impression is that Dublin is a sortof depressed city. It looks quite industrial, with brick row-houses and pub upon pub upon pub. I haven't seen much yet, though, and because I didn't arrive until past 8:00, darkness fell quickly and I didn't get to wander far. I'm glad I'm only staying here two nights and then will be on to greener pastures. I'm needing some country air just about now. So, all in all, I'm having a great time so far, and I figure that days like today are just little trials to persevere through. I remind myself in less than ideal situations that I just have to roll with the punches and everything's going to be just fine. Much love to everyone back home. Till next time....

London!!!

Oddly enough, I find myself sitting in a shopping mall right now... the last place I'd expect to be on my first day in London. I arrived at about 7:3o a.m. and miraculously found my way from the airport to the area of town where my hostel is located via the underground (thank god for friendly subway employees who guided me on my way!). It's raining steadily outside, as it should be, this being London and all... (thank god, also, for wonderful brothers who give their little sisters things like rain jackets and waterproof backpack covers - Bless you, Si!!). After about an hour on the subway, which was SO much cleaner, better smelling, more punctual, and less full of crazy people than any of the NYC ones, I arrived in Bayswater and found the street that my hostel is on. Because it was still so early I decided to find a semi-dry spot in Kennsington Gardens, which is right down the street from the Hostel, to collect my thoughts and eat the rest of the grapes I had bought at JFK before my flight (this totally reminds me of the first "meal" Kate and I ate in Spain all those years ago). I nearly got hit by a double decker bus because being in my exhausted and semi awe-struck state, I forgot completely that they drive on the opposite side of the street here (duh...). I pulled up a seat under a tree and ate my grapes and watched people playing with their dogs. I wanted to take a nap but figured it wouldn't be good to get in trouble for being asleep under a tree in the park in the first hours of my visit here. Instead, I headed for the hostel, where they let me drop off my backpack early, and headed out again to wander around and see what there is to see in my neighborhood. I sat in a cafe and drank a four dollar cup of coffee (!!!!) and wrote in my journal for a while and now, here I am in this totally American-esque shopping mall writing this so that everyone out there will know I'm alive and I'm ok. So far (that is, about 7 hours into my first day of a three month trip), I'm totally happy to be on my own in a foreign place. I'm excited to see what this journey brings me.

blog virgin

Ok...so.... This seems a bit like a one way conversation to me. Kindof self-indulgent feeling. The objective of my setting up this blog is to keep my friends and family posted as to my whereabouts while I'm off traveling during the next year and beyond. Right now I'm still in Shelburne, trying to justify the fact that I'm not working by telling myself that there's plenty of time for work, and even though it doesn't feel like it right now, my time wasteage opportunities are about to expire. I'm in a state of semi-denial about the fact that I'm leaving in 16 days, not because I dont want to go... just because I'm not really looking forward to the packing/going crazy trying to wrap up loose ends part of departure. Instead of doing what I'm supposed to be doing (i.e. packing, visiting friends, cleaning, etc.) I've been spending impressive amounts of time watching bees pollinate flowers in my back yard. Sounds strange, but when you really watch them up close, it gives you a real respect for how amazing bees are. It did for me, at least. Anyhow, I'm going to stop writing because this is already starting to be embarrasing. It's easy to just spew stupid crap when there's no face in front of you pleading for you to just stop rambling and get to the point. The point is, I'll be posting stories/observations/ramblings on this page for whoever is interested in reading it, so keep checking back now and then.