July 21 through July 27 (Days 41 through 47)

First, some flashbacks....

Outside that awful play on Day 36, hehe. (stolen from Facebook)

Annie and I, in Temple Bar on Day 38. (stolen from Facebook)

Some of the ladies on Trinity's campus, Day 39. (stolen from Facebook)

The Guinness Factory, Day 40.

Day 41: So, today, I went to the church where my great-great grandfather, my grandfather's grandfather, was baptized. How incredibly amazing is that? It's now known as the Marian Shrine at Knock - in 1879, an apparition of Mary, St. Joseph, and St. John the Evangelist was seen, and the Vatican investigated and declared it a holy site. By my reckoning, John Thomas O'Donnell would have been about thirteen years old at the time - so rather familiar with this event, I'm sure! So, yes, it's in the town of Knock in County Mayo, about an hour and a half north of me down here in Galway. So I hopped on the bus after class ended (my final two sessions - crazy) and went up there for a couple hours.

I did the Stations of the Cross and attended Mass, as well as wandered around the grounds, which have expanded to include a variety of chapels, a convent, gardens, stone crosses, etc. I attended Mass where my family did over 120 years ago. Still can't get over it.

The Stations of the Cross....I can't remember the closing lines at each station verbatim that they used - I found this version off of Google. "I love You, my beloved Jesus; I love You more than myself; I repent with my whole heart for having offended You. Never permit me to separate myself from You again. Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me what You will." Isn't that just a....wow? Seriously.

It was a fantastic afternoon, really. I really enjoyed it - for its history, the personal family connection, and for the quietude and spiritual opportunity to get away and reflect.

A few random notes....

I met someone from Spokane there as I was waiting for the bus back, too - how weird is that? And he had a kid who graduated from college in Chicago. Crazy....

Oh, and I had my first near pickpocketing experience today, too. While a woman was talking to me and asking for money near the shrine, her seven year old kid unzipped my backpack and plunged her hand in. But I noted it and spun around, and didn't lose anything. How do you respond to something like that? I was just silent, and kind of in shock. Anyways.

I came back, and eight of us had a group dinner that was pretty sweet. And now....it's test studying time. My last two tests until 2009 - how weird is that? And as of tomorrow, I'll have been in Europe for six weeks....and I'll be a week away from home!

Inside the original church.

Where the apparition appeared - a replica by statues.

Along a path outside - such a spiritual, reverent atmosphere everywhere.

The apparition shrine, with the old church in the background behind it.

A rather old cemetery on the grounds.

Lovely flowers....

At the center of the Stations of the Cross, and the entire complex.

One of the Stations.

The old church tower.

The Stations, with the (more recently built) basilica.

My family might have walked these very fields....at the edge of Knock, on the way to Ballyhaunis, I believe.

Day 42: Test day! Think they went well, overall. Ha, I really lucked out - one of the essay options on each test happened to be, almost verbatim, the topics I picked for the two papers! Thanks; I appreciate it. ; ) So, yes, woke up early and finished my studying, then on to the tests in the early afternoon. After that....celebrate good times, come on! Last night at College Bar....yes, the campus bought us drinks again. And then CEA did, too, even as they promised they never would. Then we sent Joe to get a pizza from Monroe's as we headed back to the apartments. Dinner, and then a pub crawl....or, as Sam put it, a fast food crawl, considering what we followed it with. : ) Went to the King's Head, the Quays, and the Roisin Dubh (Gaelic for 'Black Rose'). Also went to this little burger place across from the RD and a crepery. Yeah....

Our last night at College Bar.

The lovely Annie and Meghan.

My lovely flatmate, Caitlyn.

Me, chilling....waiting for our last night out. (stolen from Facebook)

Ally did most of the girls' makeup for fun....

The King's Head - I liked these fellows' performance.

The Quays - doesn't it look like a cool set-up?

Annie and Ally with one of the many street musicians....

The ladies....

At the Roisin Dubh (pronounced kind of like 'Russian dove').

Day 43: Goodbye, Galway. Spent the day saying farewell to the city, packing, and chilling with the newfound friends who would all be going separate ways soon....though I do get to see Annie back in Wheaton. : )

I'll wait to post pictures and videos from my final Galway walking tour until I do my final reflections on Ireland post....seems a fitting spot. That, and my Internet is slow tonight. : )

Day 44: I will never, never mock an Irish mountain again. Never. "Oh, it's only 2600 feet...." Yeah. It might be shorter than Montana majesties, but that doesn't necessarily equate with ease of climbing! Okay, so this day nearly did me in, from the beginning....

• I awaken at 7:30, after only a few hours of sleep (like every night this week) to say farewell to several folks.
• Shower, "finish" packing, buy a duffel bag, really finish packing, run out the door to share a taxi with Annie to the bus station (only the third time I've succumbed to taxi temptation while in Europe).
• Find out that, rather than 10:30, I'm supposed to leave at 12:00. I sit and wait at the station....where would I wander with two bags and a backpack?
• Finally get on the bus, weary from fighting the crowds in the rain to find the right one, maneuvering my luggage all the while. Collapse in the seat.
• Arrive in Westport. First four people I ask, including two Gardai, have no idea that my hostel even exists. Very encouraging in small town. Then the woman at the tourist office tells me it's only two blocks away.
• 3 PM, luggage dropped off, a hot, sweaty, exhausted, slightly ornery woman stands on the road. NOW I go climb the mountain! Temptation rises to skip it and sit in Matt Molloy's and drink tea, but I came to this town to climb the mountain, and I'm going to do it!
• Operating under two pieces of information, given from "reliable" sources, both of which shall prove false: 1) there is no bus from Westport to Croagh Patrick, 2) Croagh Patrick is only 5 kilometers away. Well, 5 km....I can walk that.
• So, already exhausted, I set out. And walk. And walk. And walk some more. I know for a fact I've gone more than 5k after a while....the signs pointing back to Westport are reading higher than that. I start to be tempted again, to turn back....NO. I've come this far - I can't give up.
• 12 kilometers later - yes, 12 - I get there. And the icing on the proverbial cake? A bus passed me at about kilometer 8, bearing a sign - 'Westport to Croagh Patrick.' Well, at least I can catch the bus back, ja? I check the schedule. The last bus of the day leaves in 20 minutes. Should I turn back now, after coming all this way? No! I came to climb the mountain, and climb it I shall!
• It's the road to Mordor, seriously. Steep, jagged rocks everywhere, sliding gravel and mud....yep. The first half isn't actually that bad (as you can see in the video clips) - just a few parts that are a bit tiring. It's later on that gets ya....but we'll get to that. This is supposed to be a sacred pilgrimage, in honor of St. Patrick's prayer and fasting nearly 1,600 years ago. So, is it sacrilegious if, half an hour into my climb, I pull out my iPod and tune into the Rocky soundtrack? The opening bass of Eye of the Tiger got me running up the hill....well, for 20 feet, then I reckoned I should pace myself. : ) So, I go and go and go....Then it's time for the final ascent.
• For 45 minutes, I was using my hands, knees, feet, whatever to climb over loose sliding rocks up a rather steep slope, grasping for what small hand- and footholds I could find. Finally, I sat down, about 100 yards from the top. I knew the climb back down would be very difficult - more so than going up, due to balance issues and not wanting to fall to my death or anything. After all this....I contemplated giving up, this close to the summit. Then....two women came around the bend, walking sticks anchoring them on the steep slope. "Climb with us!" they encouraged. "You HAVE to keep going!"
• So I did. And I got to the top. And it was pretty much the windiest I've ever encountered, not counting tornadoes (though possibly comparable). My feet were actually leaving the ground, just barely brushing the dirt. I'll be honest....I was petrified at that point. We all know how I feel about heights. And then Vera, one of the two, said we should head down, because fog was rolling in off the sea....
• And here I realized the actual necessity of a walking stick. So, Vera took me by the hand for the first hour. Seriously. And it was needed - she saved me from falling more than once. And I probably would've ended up crabwalking all the way down or something without her and her hiking expertise. She and Zanzani were seriously a godsend - two guardian angels. And they were amazed I walked from Westport. And I couldn't help but ask....any chance they knew anyone headed that direction this windy, rainy (we were occasionally pelted by bits of rain and hail - one managed a direct hit on my eardrum, even, making me lose hearing for about half an hour) night. Yes! Their friend Brig could give me a lift - they had come with her and her 18 year old daughter, Karen, and they were all from Castlebar, on the other side of Westport.
• So, we eventually made it to the bottom - meeting Brig and Karen a little ways down. And then Vera said she was going to buy me a drink....and then she not only did that, but dinner, too - really nice Chinese food at 10:30 at night. So, I went out to dinner with the four of them, and they brought me right to my hostel. What started out a bit, well, not good at all ended up amazingly, and I made new friends in Ireland that night. : )
• And then I collapsed at the hostel after a quick shower, with no intention of moving until I had to leave for my 8:50 AM bus. Slept next to an open window with a light breeze and a view of the lit up Church of Ireland cathedral next door - a nice way to drift off to sleep.

There it is, in the distance....should the haze surrounding it have suggested that it might possibly be more than 5k? Especially when a bay lay between it and me that had to be circumvented? (though I didn't know that at the time....) Here I go again on my o-own....

Aren't they cute? I think they're cute. : )

Mud flats by the bay.

St. Patrick, welcoming me to his mountain.

Hinds' feet on high places....ever read that book? Beyond the allegorical spiritual aspect, I also had a couple little wishes I was thinking....1) that God would grant that my feet would be as graceful, and 2) if I'm wearing Puma tennis shoes, why can't I be as strong and speedy as a puma? Like leaping 30 feet at a time? That'd be sweet....

A little stream in the wilderness....

The misty bay.

Here lies my road....this was the easiest section - it leveled out for a while!

The town of Murrisk and the bay down below.

Making progress....

Just keep swimming-er, just keep hiking, just keep hiking....

Getting closer to the summit....

Lovely panoramic views from up here.

The closest I could get to a Rocky pose when taking my own picture, lol....about 100 yards from the top.

Officially at the summit, leaning against the side of the small church up there to keep from being blown away. : )

Isn't that cool? Like God reaching down....

And that's what we escaped in time.

Day 45: "This is my castle! This is where my family lived! I can't imagine why they abandoned it...." Conan O'Brien (p.s., I saw that castle, hehe) Wake up bright and early and get on the bus to Donegal Town. Arrive at the hostel, run by a very, very sweet woman, ditch my things, and head into town. First things first....I'm incredibly hungry. My maybe-I-just-shouldn't-eat plan isn't working. Well, one thing I haven't had since being in Ireland, and which you really ought to have, is fish and chips. So that's what I get, at Ye Olde Castle Bar, next to Donegal Castle, ancestral home of the O'Donnell clan. So, after a wonderful meal, I go to the castle.

A few interesting facts:

• The castle belonged to the O'Donnell clan from the 12th to the beginning of the 17th centuries.
• Red Hugh O'Donnell's name isn't actually Red Hugh - that's what the English called him, as they couldn't pronounce the Gaelic 'Aodh Rua.'
• RH burned the castle as he left at the end of the Nine Years' War, that the English may not have it. Well, it was reconstructed and granted to the Brookes a few years later, for their support of the Brits. But it was a grand effort, Aodh Rua....
• The Garderobe (aka the toilet) - the hole down which, well, you know what, went was strategically angled so that enemy archers outside couldn't take a cheap shot and surprise anyone. Never would have thought of that....

Leaving the Abbeywood in Westport....it's actually a converted monastery, apparently.
The church I could see from my bedroom window next door last night.

A view of Westport before I leave town.

Welcome to Donegal.

We have our own bar. : )

Our castle! Well, sort of.... : )

The ceiling here, in this part of the storeroom, is only inches above my head....

The storeroom.

The remaining staircase....some of it was blocked off and a fireplace built upstairs in its place.

The banqueting room, as the Brookes had it.

Down the stairs....

Outside the courtyard....

From inside the courtyard....of course, it may not always have been a courtyard....it just is now that there's a roof missing....

The castle, in all its glory.

Close-up of the architecture.

Returning to the homeland.... ; )

After that, I wander to the old Franciscan Abbey. This was taken by the English, then taken back by Red Hugh, then taken again by the English and burned. Nobody knows what happened to the monks who fled....

In the middle of the city square.....

Passing through the city centre....

Down on the pier - a distant relative.

The cemetery surrounding the ruins of the abbey.

Something to stop and reflect upon....

Overlooking the water.

Parts of the abbey still standing.

The Virgin, through a crumbling window.

The center of the abbey.

Did they really use this doorway? It's about 3 feet tall!

One of the better-preserved parts....

Then....I get a haircut. That was anticlimactic, I know. But I hadn't had a haircut since October, which you're kind of not supposed to do....and I was so tired, with muscles hurting in places I had no idea I even had muscles. So I did. And it was cute. And I learned how to blow-dry my hair properly. You would think I should know that by age 21....

Then a walk past the St. Patrick Roman Catholic Cathedral and a graveyard from the Famine.....and is it a little creepy if a black cat is having a staredown with you in front of a cemetery? And if, after leading you to the gate, it vanishes? Hmmm....

So tragic.

The wall surrounding the graveyard.

St. Patrick's.

In the evening, I sat in the hostel, talking to a Dutch backpacker and listening to a steady stream of German from half a dozen folks behind me (being excited that I could understand most of it).

Day 46: I sleep in - a glorious feeling. Of course, I awaken naturally at around 6, but I have the luxury of lying in a soft bed in a room all my own (the hostel wasn't full that night), seeing the sun filtering in through the window. Oh, and when I move, I realize that muscles really are the sorest two days after, not the day after, a strenuous event....The woman at the hostel, Linda, was seriously very sweet. If you're in Donegal, the Independent Youth Hostel at the edge of town, past the Killybegs Roundabout, is the place to be. On that note, so is the Abbeywood in Westport - the woman who runs that is very sweet as well. Anyways. I checked out after a bit, and her husband drove me to town with my bags - a major blessing. I left them at a hotel near the bus stop and spent a couple hours meandering near the city square. Had my last bowl of Irish soup with fresh brown bread - a cheap, yet very tasty, favorite. Then it was the bus to Dublin....then on to the ferry. Made a couple farewell to Ireland videos....I'll post those with the Galway tour and my end-of-trip reflections. The ferry was huge, actually - our bus from Dublin Busaras (the main bus station - as in Bus Aras) drove right onto it, into a massive parking garage. Then I wandered up to the 7th, 8th, and 9th levels, where passengers were allowed to wander, eat, drink, see Indiana Jones if so inclined in the cinema, etc. The ride was three hours - longer than I expected, but you could barely feel it. Chatted with a professor from West Africa/France for most of it, and then docked in Holyhead in England at about 45 minutes past midnight....

At Linda's lovely hostel.

My final Irish meal took place at this pub....

Wandered around the city centre for a few hours....

Farewell, Ireland....about to leave Donegal Town for Dublin and the ferry.

Reminds me of the 'Smoking Kills' on cigarette packages....just in the whole descriptive, blunt, to the point attitude over here.... : )

That's my ride for a few hours....

Inside the ferry. Not shabby, not shabby....

Farewell, Dublin. Not very clear, thanks to the salt spray of the ocean on the window, but I think it actually adds a nice effect to my last Irish sunset.

Day 47: ....then it was on to a 7 hour bus ride. I slept about the first five hours, which was nice. Customs was funny. We get off the bus, drag all our luggage inside the building, pull out the passports....and all they do is glance at our photographs (and, in my case, as a non-Irisher and non-Englisher, check my Irish entry stamp date) and send us back out, without once glancing at our luggage. Then, yep, bus riding. I woke up around 5:45, at a 30 minute break. Grabbed some hot chocolate and enjoyed the sunrise. We arrived at Victoria Station at about 7:45. May I say what a wonderful-good feeling it was to know exactly where I was at any given moment, driving through London? I learned that city a lot better than I expected, especially the Tube, in those five days in June....better than Galway, actually, which is a little weird. Then it was on to the bus to Oxford, deceptively titled the Oxford Tube....and I got to see the lovely Allison, future housemate, for the day! The Wheaton-in-England group was still in Oxford, so that's where I headed. Allison met me at the station, and showed me lovely Oxford. Ach, it's great....We went to a grocery store and got bread, cheese, yogurt, and Pringles for a lovely lunch on the banks of a small stream in a park, watching folks attempt to punt on by. Had a lovely catching-up time. Then she showed me St. Mary's, where St. Lewis preached (ha, sorry, Allison - love saying that). Then it was on for tea and scones and clotted cream, which was so amazingly good, I must admit. Then, the Eagle and Child - "the" pub. Yes, that one - the one where the Inklings met. I sat in their corner. Cheers, Jack, J.R.R., and all of you....ach. My literary self was soaring.

I suppose it LOOKS like a normal parking lot....it might even BE a normal parking lot....but this was at 5:45 in the morning, seeing the sun come up as we took our 30 minute break from the bus. Welcome back to England. : )

In Christ Church Meadow.

Allison and I, after our lovely lunch on the banks of the stream pictured above.

More of Christ Church Meadow - like the actual meadow. : )

Oh, Oxford.... *sigh* I liked it so much.

That's St. Mary's in the distance - Lewis' church.

Inside St. Mary's.

The organ.

Some of the statuary perched high on the walls.

See the pulpit? It's the round wooden structure rising above the pews. Lewis preached from there....yes, it's true; I do have a slight C.S. obsession.

Lovely architecture....

Live music during tea time.

After having enjoyed our delightful cream tea.

Cheers, Jack and J.R.R. and company! A toast to you. : )

And 48 hours until I'm home....cheers!

On pub crawl night....
The King's Head - my personal favorite pub in Galway. And, yes, there's American music mixed in with the Irish.
Next, the Quays ('Keys'). I like the building itself, atmospherically-speaking, but not so much the general atmosphere, have to admit....


Up Croagh Patrick....
Somehow, some of this reminds me of Pam on The Office. I dunno. Just saying....
Anyways, here's the progression from cheerful to near-defeat and back again. And I didn't show each video I made, lol....like the one of me singing Whitesnake and Willie Nelson, for example. No one needs to hear that!
Yes, so, I became temporarily enamored with the video capabilities of my camera.



Donegal Town....
I'll post these two videos on the next day's entry - this day is getting a little bit of media overload!