Friday, August 26, 2016

Low Lie the Fields of Athenry

To those of you wondering what exactly occurred on our heavenly trip to Ireland, I am here to rid you of that mystery. On our very last day, Mama Kerr asked us all to close our eyes and picture every last moment and jot whatever our sentiments were down into a notebook before we lost those memories forever.

I'm afraid I cannot say I managed to keep a journal for the London side of things simply because we were so darn busy the entire time. That's not to say we weren't busy in Ireland, because we were—it was just a different kind of busy. Nonetheless, I wanted to share my journal entries with you because I cannot express how unbelievably amazing the whole experience was for me.

That being said, it is a helluva long journal entry, so if you're planning on reading the entire thing, you may as well get a snack or something... We'll be here for a good while.
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My dearest Maya:

I write to you from Ireland on the 12th of June, 2016. You are about to get on a plane headed straight toward London, England and who knows what wonderful experiences you'll encounter there. For now, I want to write to you about the past week in hopes that you won't forget. The moment we boarded the coach bus from PAS, I knew we were in for a treat. The excitement hadn't hit me yet and I chose to nap on my own all the way to Logan.

Upon arrival, the usual banter ensued and after getting our boarding passes, immense panic swept over me because I realized my seat was the farthest away from the group. Papa Kerr fixed that for me, thankfully. In the meantime, I was developing a helluva fever to the point of tears and almost passing out. I am so grateful to Caellum and Conor and Claire and Mama and Papa Kerr for taking care of me while I felt like shit.

The flight was long and uncomfy but we made it through—yes, I got to sit next to CJS. Arriving and noticing the time switch was the strangest thing. Stepping out into the Dublin airport and seeing all the Gaelic written on signs was quite bizarre, but expected. I didn't feel entirely foreign and for some reason, the excitement/shock hadn't hit me yet.

That day, we waddled onto a bus (my fever was back) and we made our way to Trinity College. Our tourguide, Byrne, was an absolute babe but he was totally gay. I would have enjoyed the scenery and everything, including the Book of Kells a lot more if I had not been so ill. Nonetheless, we went off to eat at this little place and the food revitalized me a bit. (P.S: THE SODA BREAD WAS SO DAMN GOOD!) We entered a record store, listened to some funky music, walked through a silent writer's museum and made our way back to our awaiting castle.

Seeing her from a distance was truly breathtaking and I wish I could recapture that moment over and over again. Seeing all the cobwebs and suits of armor decorating the halls was so surreal. I felt like royalty. That night was a blur of hot and cold flashes, blaring music, pillow forts, snuggles, and mixed feelings. I was out before I knew it.

Day Two, we met Brian, our caterer, who cannot be described as anything other than dynamite. His explosive exclamations and delicious food woke up our bleary minds as we trudged through the Coach House. Okay, that bacon—beyond compare. I can still smell it now. Breakfast was loud and obnoxious and I was feeling more alive than I had the previous day. That day was meant for the walking tour and adventuring about Galway—a beautiful city, mind you. The day was sunny and beautiful. I got sunburnt that day. Who woulda thought? Lemme retrack real quick to the night before, though. On the way to the Castle, we had dinner at this tiny lil' plaza called—wait for it—Obama Mart. I kid you not. It was fucking hilarious. I got the best club sandwich I've ever tasted in my life at some rip-off Subway place and Caellum and Conor both became aware of and quickly addicted to this drink called Lucozade (—Get Gluced!) After that, we had a very hilarious and slightly delirious conversation about Michelle Obama and her obsession with sweet potatos (—Nuuuuuu Michelle!) I don't think I've laughed that hard in a very long time.

Back to Galway, our tourguide was the absolute best storyteller I've ever come across. He told us stories about Eugene Daily on the Titanic and the origin of the word Lynch and monkeys rescuing babies from fires. We ate lunch at this super cool tavern and Caellum bitched about Zoe for a while. We stopped by a little shop on the way back to the Castle that night and picked up some bits and bobs for snacks. On the bus, we decided it'd be a lovely idea to get Maya hyped on Gluc. So I did. And I went insane. I mean full on hyper, weird, crazy, screaming insane. It was very entertaining. So as we got back to the Castle ready to take showers, the guys thought it a lovely idea to lock themselves together in a bathroom for fifteen minutes talking about poop to prevent me from showering. Not five minutes after I get in the shower, Caellum is summoning me out for an "important meeting" which only turned out to be a gathering based on communally listening to the Cuil Theory. Worst eight minutes of my life. Later, we decided to play Catan, which was never finished and a lot more underwhelming than I wanted it to be. Everyone munched on Caellum and Conor's cheese minus myself because I thought it was tacky. I wasn't feelin' the people vibe and was extremely quiet and ready to cry myself to sleep. However, my lil' munchkin Emma turned my night around by letting us play with Play-Dough and eating chips with me and watching videos on my phone. Then, the Death Moth appeared. Emma thought it was a winged figure coming out of the shadows, so she screamed and then I screamed and we were a huge, loud, jittery mess. Eventually, we got Papa Kerr to get it out of the room so we could sleep in peace. And out we went—laughing is exhausting, anyway.

Day Three, or Thursday, was quite a long, fuckin' day. Think Cliffs of Moher and The Bhoirne in one day. Super fucking long. All I can distinctly remember is how much I seriously had to pee. Like, gee wiz, that was the most painful bus ride of my entire life. God bless Conor for being a good sport and helping me take my mind off it. I forget what we did for dinner, but I'm sure Brian whipped us up something fabulous. Later that night (as it would be our last night in the Castle before transferring to the Coach House), we thought it'd be a great idea to snuggle up in the Great Room surrounded by candlelight, telling ghost stories. It was freaky as fuck but honestly it may have been my favorite time so far on the trip. Mainly, it was Caellum reading off his phone, but his delivery really sold. Poor little Emma was spooked beyond belief and ended up crying a whole lot that night. I made her laugh, already half asleep, and apparently spent the next hour trying to calm her down. I was too tired to remember any of this, of course.

Day Four, or Friday, we had a wee bit of a sleep-in, thank God, but the ride to Cobh to see the Titanic exhibit took LITERALLY forever. Again, I had to hold my pee for far too long -_- The overall exhibit was pretty quick and underwhelming, although we got our own "tickets" and we were assigned real people. My name became Nellie O'Dwyer and Conor's was Martin Gallagher. I survived but he ended up dead, the poor thing. Soon after, Claire, Caellum, Sophia, Jimmy, Emma, Conor and myself decided to sprint up the steepest street I've ever come across in my life for some godforsaken reason. Turns out, us lucky seven got to visit a completely gorgeous, deserted church. It was massive with marble floors and stained glass and rose windows and tall columns. It was completely deserted apart from us and though none of us are strictly religious, I sorta felt like it was a very special, intimate moment we were all sharing. We proceeded to light candles upon our departure and left the place with a weird sort of glowy aura to us. Soon enough, it was time to get back for check-in. We made our way down some sketchy stairs—bumped into a cat on the way—and made a quick stop at Burger King cuz Emma had to pee. 

Our next stop would be Blarney Castle (which was absolutely gorgeous beyond compare, to say the least.) The mere size of the place was obscene and the grounds were just covered in trimmed grass and beautiful flora. Our very first experience with the castle was the dungeon caves. I kid you not—one of the coolest places I've probably ever been in my life. However, the entrances were tiny as fuck XD so everyone else was cussing me out while they struggled to wiggle through. Conor and I even managed to sneak a kiss down there after everybody else had left <3 We went on to explore some other caves before deciding to make the trek all the way up to the top of the ruins. An endless flight of steps and secret corridors and heaving breaths later, we finally made it to the top. Luckily, my fear of heights hadn't kicked in yet, so I was still just enjoying the view. I swear, you could see the whole world from up there. We were hurried along to kiss the Blarney stone which supposedly grants you the "Gift of Gab", which I already had, thank you very much. Besides, the whole ordeal involved being dangled upside down over who knows how many feet above ground, just to kiss some stone that could potentially give you Ebola. You never know. As we were making our way back down, Conor and I did a little more illegal smooching before heading downstairs and rejoining civilization. The rest of the evening entailed walking through a poison garden which harvested marijuana behind bars, just so you know. We were free to roam the grounds until, yet again, it was time to leave. Thank God we were on our way to food though cuz I was SO hungry at this point.

As promised, we went to Mortell's which was Brian's family restaurant. He fixed us up some burgers (which were to die for) in exchange for a swear jar/bucket/type thing. Basically, you had to pay everytime you added "like" or "um" to a sentence. I never had to pay a cent :) On our way out, though, we experienced a series of events. Firstly, Emmett won an armwrestling match against Brian's 20-year-old son. However, his hat later caught on fire, so I dunno what that says about him. And then, of course, another inside joke was birthed (—Oo, oo, oo, n*gga moon!) I don't even know how that happened, to be honest. The rest of the evening contained a series of laughter derived from the strangest things. I'm sure they made zero sense.

(The next few events are by no means in chronological order because my memory sucks and I didn't write the order of events down in time cuz I suck.)

OHMYGOD I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MENTION THIS okay so. At some point during the week I actually cannot believe I forgot about this shame on me we had the greatest privilege to have professional TRAD musicians play for us in our cozy lil' castle :) For those of you who speak English, that just means we had 3 performers come to our castle to play traditional Irish folk music. I may or may not have shed many tears. I kid you not, all three of them were beyond talented and charming and lovely and I just wanted to wrap them up in a bow and take them home with me. I'm blanking on their names but each of them played with such passion... I just cannot remember ever seeing something as beautiful in my entire life. One of the last solos played, though, was a piece called "Nora" by the violinist, who used a looping pedal and some cool other toys to enhance his performance. My dearest friends, only those in the room can testify to the magic that occurred then and there. Before I knew it, tears ran in thick gobs down my cheeks and I hadn't noticed until a fat one landed on my arm. Claire and Sophia were about in the same state as I was, while everyone else just sat there—completely mesmerized.

Another lovely thing we got to experience was this charming little man by the name of Mike, decked out in full, traditional Irish attire. He was generous enough to come by the Coach House and tell us all stories—either general folklore and traditions, or even some of his own personal accounts. I'm not gonna lie, this man was just about the sweetest thing you've ever met. He told us about how Ireland was no big deal, how the Irish are proud of their heritage but their history has humbled them enough that they're not so exclusive about it; he told us about the Irish as a long line of alcoholics, of young girls destined to marry boys they'd never met; he sang us songs and told us never to lose our faith—for that faith is the only thing that's kept the Irish alive. Goodness gracious, I'm getting goosebumps just remembering this treasure of a person.

At some point or another, we were also able to make our way to Doolin to see the Folk Festival. In all honesty, I preferred the little coffeehouse performances a million times over the large, pub-like presentations. We sat among some others on the floor, and listened while this tragic beauty of a young man named Tiz McNamara gave a stunning performance. The poor guy has gone through one helluva stormy life, and yet he managed to perform the most intimate of songs to us—making us feel like we were a part of it, too. God, I just wanted to stand up and give him a hug. For some reason, I also distinctly remember sitting alone outside the little hub on a wooden bench, drenched in rain and surrounded by severely drunk Irishmen. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the air.

Towards the end of the week, we also got to experience the Banratty Castle, where (believe it or not) Caellum and Claire got named Lord and Lady for the evening. It was pretty cool. Basically, we attended the Madrigal Banquet, which essentially brings you back into medieval times and lets you eat all this really good food for dinner. Super duper fun. I'm sure C and Claire both had major inflated egos after the whole ordeal. This also has nothing to do with actual planned events, but at some point during my stay at the Coach House, I decided I super didn't wanna wear pants and so I ran back and forth down the upstairs hall, wearing nothing but a semi-long T-shirt. It was hella fun. You should try it sometime.

And thus terminated the beginning of our adventures. I don't think I was ever prepared to say goodbye.
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Special thanks to Declan, Brendan, Natalie, Brian and DENNIS for making our stay one we will never forget. I pray I get to go back someday. You were all such kind souls and we definitely didn't deserve you.

Hasta la proxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya

P.S: You're welcome, Fonts.

P.P.S: If you're wondering what "Nora" sounded like, this was Eoghan's earlier version: Nora.

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