(Short-Term) Galway Girl: Treat Yo'Self to Northern Ireland

I have officially turned in my last final paper, so I am free for the rest of the semester! That being said, I am going to try my best to catch up on writing in this blog. Clearly I still haven't picked up the pace because I wrote that sentence a week and a half ago.

Many weeks ago, we planned a trip to Belfast in Northern Ireland. Our trip got off to a bit of a wonky start, though. My roommate, Lauren, and I were sitting on the bus, ready to head to Dublin to then catch a train to Belfast. We noticed that the others that were coming with us still hadn't arrived, so we gave them a ring. The Alexander Graham Bell kind, not the jewelry kind. It turned out we had scheduled different bus times, so Lauren and I were going to have some time to kill in Dublin. Once our other friends arrived we went to the train station to buy our tickets. When we tried to buy them there we found out that they were three times the price that they were online, but being the savvy travelers we are, and also the fact that we encountered a super nice train worker, we skipped on over to the bus station, figuratively, and hopped on a cheaper bus, fairly literally.

We got into Belfast pretty late, and headed straight to our hostel to check in. The hostel used to be a linen factory, so it kind of had a factory feel to it, (if you know what that is). We were all starving at that point, and the guy working at the front desk suggested a cheap place that was "across the street from the gay club around the corner." You would think that finding a gay club in the middle of a completely desolate and silent area would be fairly straightforward, like finding a needle in a needlestack, if you will, but we failed. Because of this, I have a confession to make: I, Alicia Eissler, had to break my personal study abroad rule and eat at McDonald's. In my defense, we only had two options, KFC or McDonald's, so I think we chose the lesser of two evils.

That's right, if I had chosen KFC I could have been eating a sandwich that has fried chicken patties as buns. McDonald's was the healthy choice.
Photo courtesy of http://www.kfc.com/doubledown/.

We got an early start the next day for the optimal touring experience. We first headed to the shipyards. The Titanic was built in Belfast, so there is a big tourist draw for that reason to go see that area. At the time that we were there, the Titanic museum was still being constructed, but it was almost done, so we could basically see what it was going to look like when finished. Since I am not an architecture or modern art aficionado, I can't say anything for sure about the building, but to my untrained eyes it appeared that the building is supposed to be an iceberg. I can just picture that meeting now...

-Hmmm, well, I don't know if we have the space, width-wise, to create a building that looks like the ship.
-Well, what else could we make the building in the shape of?
-We could definitely fit a museum and thousands of guests into the ego of the man who claimed that the Titanic was unsinkable.
-I don't know what an ego looks like, though...By George, I've got it! We can just make the building into the thing that sank the ship and was the initial cause for the deaths of more than 1,500 people.
-What a great and tasteful idea!

I swear it totes looks like an iceberg.

Next, we caved to our stomach's cravings and went to St. George's Market. A little background first. Cayla and I are big fans of one of the greatest shows on television, "Parks and Recreation." If you aren't watching this show, get on it because about 72% of the pop culture references I make are to this show. Two of the characters in the show have a day called Treat Yo'self. The general premise and ensuing hilarity can be viewed in these two clips:

Treat Yo'Self 2011

Cashmere-Velvet Candycane

Now, every time anyone expresses any indecision about purchasing something, it's always, "Treat yo'self!" Belfast was a veritable goldmine for treat yo'self-like statements, including one from a bakery at this indoor market that sported "Indulge Yourself" on their sign. From that statement alone, we knew we had to be a part of this great pastry legacy, and so we purchased a half dozen of their wares to share between 4 of us.

Cayla repping for "Indulge Yo'Self!"

Enjoy Yo'Self!

We took them to this lovely park and botanical garden at Queen's University to chow down. They weren't exclusively muffins, but nothing with that amount of of sugar and icing could be considered anything less than a cupcake, thus the Frankenstein-esque creature of the cupuffin was born. My favorite part of eating them, other than the nomming part, was the looks of pure bitterness thrown our way by the passing joggers. It made the cupuffins all the sweeter.

Queen's University: I actually liked it better than Trinity. You still ma gurl, though, Trinity!

The mutated X-Men of the pastry world.

Wow, Cayla, calm yourself there. You are getting a little too much enjoyment out of that cupuffin.

After enjoying the rare sun for awhile, we went to the Ulster Museum, which is sort a bunch of odd collections thrown into one museum ranging from science-y stuff on the Ice Age, to mummies, to modern art. They did have an informative exhibit on what they term "The Troubles," or what we would know as the societal problems that plagued Northern Ireland from the 1960s until fairly recently, but more on that later. I also was really digging the children's sections of the museum where it's interactive. This love probably blossomed from my many visits to the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia. One of the weirder things about one of these sections was that the museum provided binoculars supposedly to "birdwatch," but the area where you were supposed to birdwatch was facing directly into a bunch of houses. Well done, creepers.

"It looks like Mrs. Johnson is with the Milkman again." "You don't say!"

I've never been so afraid of an animal that is dead and stuffed. That thing is a wildebeest.

Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, hoop skirts are ALWAYS a good idea.
Photo courtesy of Molly.

I have no idea why women stopped wearing corsets regularly. It's like wearing a tight, restrictive cloud around your torso...
Photo courtesy of Cayla.

I think the taxidermists in Northern Ireland must be pretty rich purely off of the amount they must get from the Ulster Museum.

A trip to Northern Ireland is not complete without a trip to the Peace Murals. Belfast even has a special company of taxis that can take you and explain a bit about the murals, but we didn't take one. Instead, we just checked them out ourselves. The murals have a large range of topics, but they are all under the theme of bettering our world and living in a peaceful society. There are a ton of them, but here are some of my favorites.

Ha, fat Obama. In this mural he clearly hasn't been partaking in the First Lady's initiative.

The people in Belfast were some of the nicest people I have ever met. Generally, people in Ireland are friendly, but the people of Belfast were something else. There were a few occasions when someone noticed I was a tourist and stopped to talk to me. One time when we were looking at a church a boy's choir director came out and started talking to us. All of a sudden he just invited all of us to come listen to the boys practice in the school across the way. They treated us like guests of honor, and it was a wonderful performance. I imagine that the people of Northern Ireland do not see as many tourists because people are still uncertain about it, so when tourists are around they make a big effort to be welcoming. They are trying to revolutionize their tourist trade because that has the potential to bring in a lot of income to a country that has been hard hit by the recession.

When I told my mom that I was going to Northern Ireland the first thing she asked was, "Is that safe?" It seemed to me that Northern Ireland is really trying to shed the images commonly associated of car bombs, the IRA, and that ilk. It's not that they are attempting to cover up their past, but rather embrace it as a part of their history that has created who they are now, and then move on to highlight everything else that Northern Ireland has to offer. And they have a lot to offer, so if you are considering a trip to Ireland, please don't skip Northern Ireland over!

I don't mean to say that everything is roses in Northern Ireland, either. After all, it wasn't that long ago that the Troubles were happening, so people are still bitter. As we were walking through one of the more dilapidated areas of the city we came across a mural that was a very clear declaration of where that neighborhood stood. The choir teacher confessed to us in a half-joking, half-serious way that he was a Protestant working for a Catholic church, so he had to keep that from the parents of the children he worked with. Our bus was also pulled over and they checked everyone's IDs.

That night we went to The Crown Bar for food in the restaurant upstairs and downstairs to the pub after. It was one of the coolest pubs I have ever been in, or I ever will be in. Sure, it did kind of have weird golden lighting probably due to the slightly gaudy golden features that kind of made things seem a bit dreamlike, but other than that it was so neat. The dinner was excellent. I thought I was getting some sort of Guinness Stew, but then it came out in pie form, but this only augmented its deliciousity...Whatever, Shakespeare made up words all the time. Examples: puking, obscene, hot-blooded, etc. Once we were done dinner, it was down into the pub. In the pub were these little rooms that I believe were called snugs. Basically, they were these half-walled booth-lined cubbies with a table that you could go into with your buds to escape creepers and weirdos, or just for a private hangout with your friends, I suppose. I just thought it was a neat concept, so I was super stoked when we managed to snag a snug. It felt very like a VIP room, which I'm sure will be a recurrent locale in my promising future.

The Crown Bar is a big advocate for the color gold.

Pure deliciousity.

I'm sorry, Cayla. I haven't posted the most flattering pictures of you in this post...

I like this picture because my pose reminds me of how a mafia boss would probably sit as his cronies and snitches come to tell him information.
Photo courtesy of Cayla.

The next day we had a tour booked to show us some of the other highlights of Northern Ireland. I'm going to skip over a castle and jump right to the Carrick-A-Rede rope bridge. It's a pretty fun little bridge. You get to have a little adrenaline kick by crossing this wobbly bridge, and the best part is that if you hated it the first time, you absolutely have to cross it a second time because there is no way to get back, minus being airlifted.

"How come every time you come around my Carrick-A-Rede, Carrick-A-Rede Bridge wanna go down?" I see why Fergie stuck with the London Bridge.

The person in yellow broke down midway across the bridge.

The bridge itself wasn't high enough for me to start crying hysterically, but it was pretty high. Things got a little nerve-wracking when the wind started up quite a bit when Molly and I stepped on. Cayla had gone first and was followed by Lauren, and they were already on the other side because Lauren is scared of heights and basically forced Cayla to sprint across, so they were over faster than Aqua's music career. Molly and I took our time crossing because we wanted pictures of each other on the bridge. This turned out to not be such a great idea because I became so frightened, not for my personal safety, but for the safety of my camera. For that reason, I had a death grip on it, including the button that takes the pictures, which led me to take a whole set of photos strictly of my feet.

If you move your head up and down quickly it's like a flipbook of me walking. I'm going to take your nodding as agreement.

Crossing this bridge wasn't the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom crocodile scene I thought it would be.
Photo courtesy of Rachel.

Screw the "Don't look down" advice! I do what I want!
Photo courtesy of Molly.

We stopped for lunch at Old Bushmill's Whiskey Distillery. You've got to give props to this distillery since they have been open for more than 400 years. They have been serving customers and alcoholics for longer than the United States has been a country! The fumes at the distillery were so strong that I think I still may be drunk, and I din't evn drin anyfing.

I'm surprised that the smell isn't visible.

I don't know for sure if you readers are Johnny Cash fans...Actually, let's be honest, everyone in the creation of man is a Johnny Cash fan. Anyway, one of his lesser known songs, "Forty Shades of Green," was actually inspired by the landscape that we were driving through in Northern Ireland. It was easy to see why, too. I almost felt compelled to compose a song based on the beauty that we were driving through, but I have no idea how to do that, so I refrained (music pun!). Listen to this gem as you check out the pictures. It really adds to the ambiance I'm trying to create.

Giant's Causeway was our last stop on the tour. There are two explanations for the creation of the Causeway. The first is that patterns formed in the lava created by an ancient volcanic eruption caused the rock to form hexagonal shapes. Since that doesn't seem likely, I choose to believe the second explanation, which is the story of the giant Finn McCool, and it goes a little something like this:

Finn often had troubles with the giant across the way in Scotland, so he built the Causeway in an effort to go over and fight him. When Finn finally saw the enormous size of the Scottish giant, he ran back to his wife in Ireland scared for his life. It was then that he saw that the Scottish giant was making use of the Causeway and coming over to fight him. To hide from the other giant, Finn jumped into a cradle and had his wife disguise him as their baby son. When the Scottish giant saw the size of the "baby" he could only wonder how massive the father was, and so he fled back to Scotland in terror destroying the Causeway as he went, which is why only a small piece remains.

Giant's Causeway is a bit difficult to describe because I feel like most people have never seen anything like it-- I most certainly hadn't. If you can imagine a flat piece of honeycomb, and then you pick one of hexagons to pull upwards. That hexagon is loosely attached to the ones around it, so it pulls them up as well, so it creates a little hill almost. Do that a couple dozen times, and instead of delicious honeycomb it is not tasty rock, I'm assuming, and you have Giant's Causeway. I was a little disappointed because the day wasn't nice enough to be able to see Scotland, and potentially the Scottish giant, but you get past it because that's just the way that Ireland is. It was a terrific and otherworldly location, and I'm definitely glad I got to see it.