About three weeks ago, on our second day crossing the border into Northern Ireland we took a hike up Slieve Gullion, a mountain known for a tale about a magical lake the sits up top.  We began our hike with sunshine and a freezing wind. Our guide, Bernard O’Hanlon (local guide, musician, pub owner) had to have been in his late 60s. This goes to show that when it comes to age, younger isn’t always better. This super athlete of a guide practically sprinted up the mountain as the fifteen of us gasped our way to the top.  After finally reaching the top, it began to rain. (I type that like I'm surprised it rains in Ireland) We followed Bernard as best we could, but before we knew it, the group had broken into three strands: the equally motivated and super athletic over achievers that kept up with Bernard, the middle of the road fast walkers who weren’t willing to exert themselves too much (I’m in this category), and the “slightly oblivious to time restrictions” sight-seers that wanted to stop and take pictures. This entire small mountain was very deceiving, because although it wasn’t raining the entire time, the ground was muddy, very wet, covered in deceptive vegetation, and snow.  Luckily, I was wearing an amazing pair of Northface hiking boots that were completely waterproof. I looked ridiculous but I was the only one who managed to keep my feet dry. After sloshing through puddles for a couple of hours, we realized that we’d lost our guide, and another man that came with us on the walk ran forward to try and catch Bernard and the overachievers so that we could go down the mountain directly to meet our bus. We finally get the group back together only to find that one of the overachievers had sprained her ankle trying to keep up with Bernard. She had to be piggy-backed down the mountain by the smallest, yet most athletic girl, Summer. The entire scenario was doubly hilarious when we all got back on the bus and realized that we’d be walking coating our entire bodies in sheep poo while climbing up the mountain. Reeking of feces, muddy, wet, and cold, we returned to our accommodations for lunch, hot tea, and complaining.  Looking back, I really enjoyed the “hell hike” as we call it.  The views from Slieve Guillion are some of the most beautiful in all of Ireland, and the pristine lake that sits atop completely took me by surprise.  I managed to snap my picture in front of the lake for posterity.  “Look Mom and Dad! I survived Slieve Guillion!” Also, the other picture is of me and Bernard. He is ALL THAT IS MAN.

Slieve Gullion

Hello Everyone! I've successfully managed to avoid blogging for over a month. I'm going to blame that on inconsistent internet access instead of laziness. We've just spent the past three weeks in Northern Ireland. After getting back Good Friday, I decided to spend my extended Easter weekend relaxing in Dublin.  My host mother Maureen spent two weeks in Portugal on a "Walking Holiday." So, while she spent two weeks exercising, I was traipsing about the North. My friend Summer, who goes to Washington and Lee in Virginia, suggested we tour the Guinness Factory in Dublin. FANTASTIC IDEA! However, I have a few comments for those that plan on doing the tour if they ever come to Ireland. 

1) Buy your tickets online, unless you want to wait in line outside the building for an hour and a half.

2) Don't go on a Saturday. Oh, and if at all possible, don't go on Easter Weekend. 

3) Bring your student id, you can get in cheaper.

4) Don't eat anything before you go. There is a pint of Guinness waiting for you "for free" (included in the ticket price of 10 euro) when you reach the seventh floor of the factory.

5) Don't expect to meet any Irish people while you're there. This is major tourist destination. 

6) Eat the sample of roasted barley! It tastes good!

7) Expect to spend at least 2 hours on the self-guided tour. There is a lot to see.

Okay, I don't want to give everything away, but at the end of the tour, there is a bar on the top of the building that overlooks all of Dublin. The sun was shining and we were able to drink our pints and look out across the Dublin mountains.  And yes, I drank the ENTIRE PINT ALL BY MYSELF.

For Easter Sunday Maureen's family came over and we had a wonderful dinner of ham, turkey, stuffing, peas, brown bread, gravy, and roasted peppers. It was so great being with a family on Easter weekend, especially Maureen's family, who are some of the nicest people I've ever met. We did an "adult egg hunt" where we searched Maureen's garden for Lindt chocolate eggs. It was great. That night myself, Summer, and another friend Allie took a taxi to a small pub called the Blue Light in the Dublin Mountains. Overlooking the city this pub is literally in the middle of nowhere. We met some of our Irish friends there and spent the entire night in the dark lighting singing songs and drinking pints of cider.  We taught them an American drinking game and they loved it. There were men and women singing and playing instruments, and two groups of men were yelling soccer chants against each other. Manchester versus Liverpool I think? I'm not really sure. Anyway, it rocked. Anyway, I'm going to compose several posts to tell you all about Northern Ireland, because a lot of stuff happened, and I can't do it justice quite yet. I love you all and miss you guys more than anything.

STAY TUNED.