But Wait, There's Moher!

Man I love puns.

My entire Monday consisted of a day long trip out to the West coast of Ireland to see the Cliffs of Moher.

Never heard of them?

Neither had I, but if you've seen Princess Bride (Cliffs of Insanity), or Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (where Harry goes with Dumbledore to fetch the locket Horocrux), then you've see the Cliffs of Moher on film.

We stopped at Poulnabrone Burial Tomb on the way.  I don't mean to downplay ancient history, but essentially it was three rocks in the shape of a house that have been there for 4000 years.  Impressive, but also unimpressive at the same time.

The real "Aha Moment" of the drive westward, was coming to the realization that Ireland is not all green.  There for several miles, all you could see was limestone.  Entire hills made of limestone.  I'm sure it made building the stone fences between fields a lot easier, but I can't imagine the soil had much growing potential.  Either that, or the small field sizes made it unpractical to raise anything besides horses, sheep, or cattle. 

Apparently, as Ireland has been Roman Catholic since the beginning of time, birth control was illegal for the longest time.  This meant extremely large families.  When paps died, his land was divided among the children.  Meaning generation after generation, the plots one inherited got smaller and smaller.  This also had a lot to do with the potato famine.

The discovery of the Americas brought the potato to Ireland, and it couldn't have come at a better time.  With small tracts of land, and large families, potatoes were the only produce that could yield enough to feed everyone.  When the blight wiped out the potatoes, even if the farmers could have grown something else, it wouldn't have been enough.  The famine killed approximately 1 million people, and another million emigrated, dropping Irelands population by 20-25%.  Dublin had several monuments dedicated to the tragedy. 

And that, kids, is your history lesson for the day...

Between stops for toilets and the stop for lunch, we made it to the Cliffs of Moher about 5 hours after our departure from Dublin.  I ended up finding an exit buddy in the form of a Canadian girl also traveling on her own.  She was a nurse in London and had just come over for the St. Patty's day weekend.  We paired up and took pictures of each other (having yourself in pictures is something you take for granted until you travel alone).

My goodness was it windy out.

With my long hair down, and of course all my pony tail holders back in Dublin, it was the kind of wind that blinded you temporarily and left you walking drunk.  Not a safe thing on giant cliffs next to the ocean.  (Apprently the Druids were the first recorded people to have dreadlocks, with the wind, I can see how). The path was barricaded with large sheets of rock put up as a fence.  But, let's get real.  There was a clearly worn path jumping two of the fences.  What did you expect us to do...

Luckily the wind blew you inwards towards land rather than yanking you out to sea.

The whole scene was literally (paired with the wind) breathtaking.  Giant cliffs of perfectly spaced rock strata covered in brillian green moss.  Birds nested in the nooks of the rocks, unaffected by the constant spray of sea water that every wave brought.  Right where the water's frothy mouth bit into the rocks, you could see the clear blue color of the ocean.  Almost made you want to dive off to see for yourself.

Almost.

Let's be real.  I can hardly swim in a chlorinated pool, let alone open water.  Not to mention heights are my least favorite thing (besides losing all my teeth,  I'd take heights over a gummy smile anyday).  Even despite my fear of heights, I couldn't get enough of the cliffs.  The Canadian and I climbed two and a half of them, and would have gone all the way to the farthest one, had our tour guide allowed us the time.

A long bus ride back to Dublin had made me hungry.  I stopped at a pub to savor one more Guinness before I departed for Scotland the next day.  I also ordered the pan-fried Clonakilty Black Pudding.

I had an idea what black pudding was, but couldn't quite remember exactly.  I asked the bartender if it was good, he said yes and began to explain what it was.  I stopped him right there.  He could tell me AFTER, and only after, I had eaten it.

I have to say, it was actually quite good.  It was more of a soft slightly crumbly cheese consistency and was served with slices of apple on top and bottom (could have used more apple in my opinion).  After I had finished, I said that I liked it, and he could now tell me what it was.

Pig's blood.

Dad would be so proud. 

Congealed, cooked, pig's blood with perhaps some oatmeal or other kind of filler.

I've come a very, very long way from being a vegetarian 3 years ago.

I choked down the rest of my Guinness, and headed back to Leonardo's flat.  Now the original agreement was for me to leave Monday and not stay another night.  But an expensive plane ticket to Glasgow caused me to cut the city out completely and just fly directly to Edinburgh the next day instead.  Unfortunately, Leonardo had already made arrangements to host his friends from Brazil.  I put out an emergency couch request for Dublin for Monday night.  The only person that replied was a male 30-something host with no previous references.  While he sounded nice and genuine and all, I did not feel comfortable staying with someone that had absolutely no credibility.  What also struck me as odd, was that he joined Couchsurfing late this past February, but had not hosted anyone for St. Patrick's day.  Leonardo said he was getting tons of requests everyday from surfers looking to stay for the holiday weekend.

I explained the situation to Leonardo, and being the extremely aimiable gentleman that he is, he said I was welcome to crash on the couch, as his friends from Brazil would be staying in the extra bedroom.  I was extremely grateful for this.

The other part of the situation was that his friends spoke very little English.

It was the most comical hour and a half of awkardness I've ever experienced.  Here they are trying their best to put together the limited English they know.  Me, I'm whipping random Spanish words out of my butt, often accidentally mixing them with French. (Brazilians speak mainly Portugese, but Spanish is close enough to convey a basic understanding).  Meanwhile, Leonardo is cracking up, translating the entire conversation, as we were getting no where fast on our own.  The only correct phrase I managed to put together was "no comprende"...

The Brazilian couple (whose names I couldn't catch for the life of me) left early in the morning for the same cliffs tour that I had done.  Leonardo also left before I had completely packed and departed.  It was a short and sort of distant goodbye.  I had a feeling he disliked seeing people leave, just as I was sad to leave.

In the many deep/philosophical/comical/whimsical conversations I had with Leonardo, he made many points that each sort of opened up their own little epiphany in my head.  Only two of which I will share with the entire online community.

The first was when we were discussing traveling.  I expressed my concern that maybe I could never be content going back to Ohio.  That perhaps, in this second trip to Europe, I was condemning myself, just as I had almost gotten over my first visit.  He said, (and I loosely quote as this conversation was of course over a Guinness)...

"Once you have expanded you mind, it will never fit back into the same size it once was"

I think I will refrain from further commenting on this statement for now.

The other extremely wise statement that came out of Leonardo's mouth happened when we were discussing the ideas surrounding Couchsurfing.  This is a concept that I've long been aware of, and I think I knew it to be true, but it had never really resonated with me like it did just then.

"Traveling isn't about the places you go, or the things you see, it's about the people you meet."

How often to people go on vacation, and the only natives they talk to are the waitstaff.  I've been on trips to Bahamas, Aruba, and Honduras.  I can't actually tell you anything about those places besides the beautiful beaches and impeccable weather.  What are the people like? What sort of culture do they have there?  I'll admit I'm usually pretty good about getting chummy with the waitstaff (I'm Facebook friends with two of the hotel workers from my vacation in Honduras 6 years ago), but I can't say I've ever had a real conversation with any of them.

Really puts things into perspective.

This entry has gotten entirely too serious.

Tuesday was the day I flew to Edinburgh, Scotland.  Or rather it was the day I was supposed to fly to Edinburgh....

Slán go foíll Dublin
Tegs