10 Irish Quirks I'm Still Getting Used To

I'm still getting used to all of the quirks of Ireland, including:

1) The Irish language. Many signs are in both English and Irish. Gaelic names are fairly common, and any Gaelic word is impossible to pronounce unless you know the language as they're not pronounced phonetically. For example, my boss's name is Sile, which is pronounced 'Sheila'. I found that out the hard way after I said, "Thanks very much, SILE" and the people in my office laughed. Two of the girls who work at the Notre Dame Center here are named Eimear (pronounced like "dreamer" without the "d") and Aoife (pronounced like Eva but with an "f" instead of a "v"). See what I mean?

2) Addendum to number 1: words in Irish English that are not in American English.

A daycare is a "crèche" (hello, French word!),

a line is a queue,

the trash is the rubbish,

diapers are nappies, an elevator is a lift, a sidewalk is a footpath or just a path, a highway is a carriageway. "Brilliant!" and "Grand!" are very, very common expressions. Hurling doesn't mean puking, it's a sport. Everyone from Obama to Bush to George Clooney to Bon Jovi can be referred to as "your man..."

3) The whole driving on the left side (the wrong side!) of the road. Luckily I don't drive a car because I would have been toast ages ago, but even crossing the streets and riding a bike still completely throws me off, and I have to repeat "left side, left side, left side" to myself whenever I rent a Dublin bike. What's even weirder is that most Dublin people walk on the right side of the road. Drive left, walk right. Whatever works, I guess!

4) Five (or six or seven or eight) euros for a pint. Sticker shock, even coming from France. (Though I prefer a good Bulmers).

5) Carrying an umbrella with you at all times. You never know. Bonuses: getting judged by your umbrella (yup, they're a style statement) and walking into work looking like this when you forget your umbrella:

6) All of the redheads. And me not being out of place by being a shade tanner than albino even in the summertime!

7) Tea time. Everyone drinks it, and no one would think twice about a man who drinks tea in Ireland. We get an hour tea break each morning (along with the office gossip, news, and complaints about the state of the economy!).

8) The buses! I love sitting on the top level in the very front of the double decker buses. Grand.

There's also big tour buses, all the time. Not that I didn't see them in many of the bigger European cities, but let's just say no one was taking Viking Splash tours in extremely ridiculous hats in Angers.

9) Irish people telling me how much better the countryside is. The question 'how are you liking Dublin?' is almost always followed by 'have you been downcountry yet?' So far, I've only been to county Wicklow, just south of Dublin. After most people hear that, several (often contradictory) recommendations follow: 'Go to Cork!' 'Jesus, why would you want to go to Cork? She's IN Dublin, and everyone knows Cork is only a smaller version of it!' 'Galway! The Cliffs of Moher!' 'Tourist trap! Why in Christ's name would she want to go with all of those feckin' people right now? Go to Dingle, just as nice but not as touristy!' And so it continues. In my office, such discussions have led some of my coworkers to bring me pamphlets, print-outs, and even bus schedules of their chosen locations (I'm not quite sure if it's merely to supply me with information or prove once and for all to each other that, truly, their county is the best).

10) Talking about the weather. A lot. People here can talk about the weather for ages and ages. It starts off the office conversation in the morning ("eh, wonder what today will look like out there. Bit cloudy at the moment, but you never know, it could clear up"), discussion during tea time ("well, look at that, there's a bit of sunshine"), and as a sort of daily sum-up ("it's been a beautiful day, by Dublin standards. Maybe go for a stroll after work"). When there's a lag in the conversation, you can rest assured that someone will bring up the current status, the latest predictions, the rain over the weekend, etc., and that the weather-related conversation will last twice as long as most Americans can possibly talk about the weather (even in small towns in the Midwest!). Oh, and Irish people almost always begin with whether it's wet or dry, not hot or cold. Makes sense.

Cheers,

Claire

Almost Getting Deported, Lawsuits, and Life in Dublin

So I know that I'm no longer "A Nebraskan in France" but rather "A Nebraskan in Ireland." Deal with it.

My first week in Dublin has been a whirlwind. It was tough saying goodbye to Angers, and the journey to Dublin didn't go as smoothly as I had planned. Namely, I almost got deported and had to leave half my luggage at Charles DeGaulle in Paris. Let me explain.

Before I left the US, I packed my suitcases to the brim. I wore like six outfits on the plane to France: leggings, pants, two shirts, two dresses, and a cardigan, plus a coat. Before you judge me, my parents were originally planning to travel around France with me right after the semester ended (Read: two empty suitcases that could be used for everything and anything I happened to pick up in Europe). Yeah....didn't happen. So I was stuck with trying to lug everything I had originally brought plus a collection of oddities that I acquired over the semester. A large collection: maps, ticket stubs, pint glasses from around Europe, coasters, paper napkins from restaurants, postcards.

There was only one thing that stood in the way of me bringing all of my travelling wonders home: Aer Lingus and their weight limits.

Specifically, their 12 euro PER KILOGRAM surcharge on luggage. Meaning, between my two suitcases, I was looking at a fine of 400 euros. Excusez-moi? Non, merci!

So I had exactly five minutes to toss out about half my suitcase. Socks, underwear, and my beloved pint glass collection were the first to go. It still wasn't enough, and I had to part with several dear items of clothing. I may or may not have worn a ridiculous combination of clothes (including my raincoat and winter peacoat) in the airport in a last-ditch attempt to salvage what I could and screw the airlines at the same time. Win-win. In the midst of it all, I somehow thought it would be a great idea to throw out my umbrella. Dumb. Dumb. So dumb. The concept of rain=Dublin weather was lost in my brain as the Aer Lingus attendants yelled at me in French to hurry up. I took a last look at my belongings sitting there in the trash, all helpless and alone, and ran to catch my flight in the terminal. At the terminal, I met my Irish friend Jessica coincidentally--we had studied in Angers together and she'd missed her earlier flight, thanks to Aer Lingus luggage restrictions.

I slept the whole way to Dublin, and I was incredibly excited to finally arrive. That is, until I arrived in Customs and Immigration. I went up to the counter, and the man asked what my purpose was in Ireland. Without thinking, I blurted out, "I'm working for the Justice Department." "Where's your job permit?" the officer inquired. Shit. I hadn't even thought about it. "I'm with the my university in the US, they arranged everything," I replied, my voice starting to tremble a bit. "I'm sorry, but you're going to find an alternate means back to France. We can't let you into Ireland if your purpose is to work and you don't have a job permit. Will you step aside please?"

I lost it. I think it was the combination of me running on about 3 hours of sleep the past 72 hours, the emotional turmoil of having the say goodbye to people and places I loved, not to mention ditching a bunch of my stuff in a bin at the Paris airport. People in line behind me stared as I bawled my eyes out, called our program coordinator in Dublin, Eimear, and tried to explain the situation to her. Eventually I handed the phone to the customs official, who I think was more shaken up than I was that a 20 year old girl was having an emotional breakdown in front of him. Eimear took care of the situation (I should have said, "I'm here for an internship paid by the University of Notre Dame in the US at the Justice Department"), and I was off to baggage claim to meet her.

Although getting to Ireland did not go smoothly, I immediately felt at home in Dublin as we drove through the winding streets, across the River Liffey, by the various squares, and past rows of brick houses with brightly colored doors. The city has a certain friendliness to it; I've never visited Ireland before, but I felt like I've lived here forever. Maybe it's the lack of language barrier, my being Irish, or the easy-going nature of most Irish people. Who knows, I like it.

We went to University College of Dublin (UCD), where I'm staying for the summer. The dorms here a new-ish and quite nice, and my bed is the most comfortable thing ever. It looks out over a field and you can see the Dublin mountains in the distance. I met up with the other Notre Dame interns, Paul, Rochelle, Erica, Amanda, and Joanna, who are all amazing people; we're all rising seniors (SO SCARY!) and have internships at various Irish organizations (the Irish Film Institute, the Department of Foreign Affairs, the National Galleries, etc.). We went for fish and chips on O'Connell Street and then an Irish pub for some Bulmers (hard Irish cider).

Excellent if I do say so myself.

On Sunday, it poured rain (surprise!)

Paul and I went to explore Dublin, eventually happening upon this little bookstore called the Winding Stair, near the River Liffey, and we spent a few hours absorbed there, finding a few interesting books:

We then walked to mass. The church was in the northwest part of the city, which is much more blue collar than most parts of Dublin 2/south of the Liffey. The congregation was heavily immigrant, which kind of surprised me. The priest was hilarious to Paul and I, but somehow his jokes were lost on most of the audience. At the end of mass, the priest encouraged us to seek out our local pub in order to celebrate the bank holiday the next day. Only in Ireland!

I started work at the Equality Tribunal in the Department of Justice that Tuesday, since Monday was a bank holiday.

Work at the Equality Tribunal has been good so far. Sometimes it's a bit slow, but the people are extremely nice, they do meaningful and important work, and I'm actually learning a lot about law in the process. And did I mention that we get tea time at work? Well, we do. When there aren't any hearings to go to, I do some legal research for cases or I'm instructed to read court decisions and heavy legal books on discrimination, European justice codes, employment equality, and equal status. Some of it can be a tad dry for my liking, but the court decisions can sometimes be quite entertaining.

The best ones I've read so far:

a) A father bringing a case against the Catholic school of his young son because the boys were required to wear a suit or nice pants and tie for their first communion, while the girls had the option of wearing their school uniform or a nice outfit. Equal status, people.

2) A paraplegic couple suing a theme park because they felt discriminated against since they could not ride on all of the same rides as able-bodied people.

3) An English man who brought a case against the school he taught at because he felt that he wasn't being promoted in the Irish-Catholic school because "All Irish people hate the English." You can't make this stuff up.

4) A couple who tried to bring their baby into a bar in the evening were told that "it may be a little late for that" and felt discriminated against on the grounds of family status. And won. Welcome to Ireland.

The Equality Tribunal deals mostly with employment and equal status discrimination. While there are the usual grounds for discrimination (i.e. gender, race, handicap, etc.), I was confused when I came across references to "the Traveller Community" in the legal documents. At first, I thought it just meant tourists, but after asking about it, I found that the Travellers are a minority community in Ireland, much like gypsies (althought they are distinct from what Americans think of as gypsies, the ethnic minority the Roma). They roam around Ireland and often face negative stereotypes and discrimination. It is unclear whether they are an ethnic minority, and for the most part they have refused to integrate into society. Interesting stuff.

Each day in Dublin is something new. I work by St. Stephen's Green, a large park with a duck pond and lovely gardens.

After work, I love just walking around and taking it all in. I've found a yoga studio here in Dublin, and I got a subscription to Dublin Bikes, the city's bike-sharing program, so I'll bike around when it's not raining out, soaking everything up.

There's something incredibly satisfying to me about seeing new places and gradually becoming familiar with them: the stone bridge over the pond I take getting to work, the paths on Portobello Road by the canal, the coffee shops and Irish-name-here bars that are on every block.

There's also quite a bit of epic sign-age:

Liars and thieves I understand. But cowboys? You really want to attack the cowboys, irishanarchism.org?

"70,000 for a degree?" Hey, what is this, the US or something?

This sign is on every rubbish bin:

a gentle reminder:

Last weekend was the Taste of Dublin, which happened directly behind my office building.

They had an "Irish Celebrity VIP" event on Friday, and basically my whole office took an hour off work to spot the "stars" from our balcony. I put "stars" in quotes because I had never heard of any of them. Zero. Zip. None. At least it was exciting for the other people in the office.

Cupcake dress? Sign me up!

I wasn't planning on going to Taste of Dublin because the tickets were 28 euro just to get in (and then you had to buy your own food inside), but I got a free ticket on the street, and the copious amounts of free samples of wine, cheese, juices, fruit, chocolates, breads, brews, and desserts were fabulous.

The only thing I can't recommend would be a black pudding. I found out after I had eaten it (and nearly spit it out) that it's made from blood. NOT chocolate. Don't go there, girlfriend.

The World Cup has started, and last Friday's match between the US and England was pretty epic. We dressed in American flags (unfortunately, wearing red white and blue wasn't good enough since England has the same colors) and watched the game at a local pub, the Porterhouse.

Most of the Irish people were cheering for America (partly because they like the US and partly because they dislike England), and the entire place was shouting "USA! USA! USA!" A great night.

Other than that, I'm enjoying cooking in our kitchen (lots of pesto, hummus, soups, and curries),

(my house mates don't exactly object :)

sampling Guiness in various locales (it's a bit different in every pub),

and finding out random bits of genealogy from various people, including my boss at work, who once spent about 45 minutes looking up the Brosnihans on the internet with me. Apparently we're from two or three towns in County Kerry, and it was likely that they were flax growers. I'm planning a trip there, so maybe I'll bump into some of them and have an awkward conversation about how we may be distantly related. Here's hoping.

"I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die discover that I had not lived" -Thoreau

Cheers.

Claire

The End of Nostalgia

I've written briefly about globalization and travelling in my blog before, but this article is a must-read:

Times to Remember, Places to Forget

By DANIEL GILBERT

Published: December 30, 2009

TONIGHT, millions of Americans will raise a glass, sing the only three Scottish words they know and remember the past with an ineffable blend of sadness and delight. Nostalgia has all the hallmarks of a universal emotion, and it is only natural to assume that the yearning for “auld lang syne” that was shared by our grandparents will someday be shared by our grandchildren.

But maybe we’ve reached nostalgia’s end. “Nostalgia” — made up of the Greek roots for “suffering” and “return” — is literally a longing for the places of one’s past. And lately, it has become harder and harder to find things to miss about America’s places.

Downtowns were once collections of local businesses that lured us with claims of uniqueness: “Try our homemade pies,” their signs read, or “Best jazz selection in town.” Today, those signs have been replaced by familiar corporate logos that make precisely the opposite claim, promising us the same goods arranged in the same way as they are in every other place. The banks and burritos and baristas on one city block are replicated on the next — and in all the malls, in all the cities, in all the states. Americans can drive from one ocean to the other, stopping every day for the same hamburger and every evening at the same hotel. Traveling in a straight line is no longer much different than traveling in a circle.

When the industrial smoothing of our nation’s once-variegated edges has been fully accomplished, Americans may no longer need to gather at midnight on the last day of the year to yearn for their yesterdays, because wherever they are they will see the landscapes of their youths.

When they remember the Starbucks where they met the one they married or the Gap where they lost the one they didn’t, they will be marinating in memories that happened everywhere but not somewhere, reliving experiences that are located in time but dislocated in space. And when they return to the places where they grew up, or went to school, or fell in love, they may not even notice that the Old Navy has been replaced by an Abercrombie, the Fridays by an Olive Garden and the once-fleeting past by an endless present.

Ours may be the last generation of Americans to suffer for return — to remember events that took place when place still mattered. So tonight let us revel in our nostalgia, and long for the days when longing was easy.

Daniel Gilbert, a professor of psychology at Harvard, is the host of the forthcoming television series “This Emotional Life.”

Things I'll Miss Most About France

1) THE PEOPLE. The 23 other people in my SUNDEF 44 (Notre Dame) group: Mackenzie, Hilary, Paul, Anna, Dennis, Kiany, Lindsay, Ellie, Maria, Charlie, Pablo, Andrea, Claudia, Trigg, Justine, Laure, Laura, Katrina, Matt, Kelly, Sarah, Shannon were amazing. I can honestly say that every single one of these people were incredible, and I felt so blessed to be able to share my experience in France with them. It is comforting to me that all of them will be at Notre Dame next year and this isn't a permanent goodbye.
My host family was so kind and I will miss them (that and being colocataires with Hilary). I have met some fabulous people on my travels, and it makes me sad that I may never see them again. I am told that such is life, meeting people along the way and leaving them behind, keeping the memories that we shared. Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I hope I get to someday run across a few of them.

2) The food. Does this really surprise anyone? Macarons (from Louvigny in Angers and LaDuree in Paris), chocolate, bread, cheese (chevre is my favorite, and I now actually like Roquefort!), the wine, the cidre (hard cider, kind of hard to find in the US), tarte au citron, mousse au chocolat, crepes and galettes (I highly recommend a smoked salmon and chevre galette), quiche, kir royals, falafel/hummus (yes I know they're not actually French, but kebab shops are everywhere), socca, anything and everything with salted caramel on it. I'm proud to say that I lived in a country that has baguette competitions and a cheese course exists. Friends and family, take comfort that I am bringing back recipes that we made with my French host mom during cooking classes, and I will be mastering the art of the macaron back in the US. Feel free to be a part of my experimentations :)

3) The pace of life. Read: slower.

4) The architecture and parks! Just wandering around Angers is fun for me. Everything is so pretty here, and our group loved to have picnics and parties in le Jardin du Mail, a beautiful park in Angers.

5) Aperitif, or "apero" for short. It's kind of like happy hour, except everyone young and old does it. After work or school, people go to brasseries, cafes, or restaurants to sit out and have a drink, whether a coke, a beer, a glass of wine, or (my favorite) a kir/kir royal. Life slows down, and often little snacks ("amuse bouches") are served. ahh.

6) Speaking in hand gestures. And Franglais/Franglish. Or just speaking French period.

7) Learning things in every single conversation I have with someone. I think I probably learned more just talking to people than in my French classes.

8) The -ies. Fromagerie, Boulangerie, Patisserie, on and on. You may think that this is a repeat of "the Food", but I love that France still has some uniqueness. If you want cheese, go to a cheese store. If you want bread, the bread store. There's something I just love about it. You develop a relationship with the merchants if you're a regular. You just don't get the same feeling by going into a Target or a Walmart.

9) The words "merde" and "putain." :) I will still be using these in everyday vocab.

10) Getting into language and/or cultural mix-ups. From mispronouncing words to being scolded for keeping my bread on my plate instead of on the table, it will definitely be harder to do that in back in the US.

11) FREEEEEDOM. Not that I don't have it in the US, but homework here was at a minimum to say the least, I didn't feel the need to join clubs or anything here, and I could just spend my days enjoying a good book, the many gardens/parks in Angers, and the weekends travelling to anywhere I could get a cheap ticket. Life doesn't get any better than that.

12) Open air markets. French people probably think Americans are a bunch of idiots for this, and some places do have farmers' markets, but they usually pale in comparison to the wonders of the French markets: spices, fruits, vegetables, cheese, bread, pastries, fish, meats, olive oils, everything.

13) Being offered wine for both lunch and dinner. Even our lunches at school would always offer a pitcher of wine on the table, and my host dad Alain would always have a new bottle waiting for us at family dinners. Le sigh.

14) Living in a city with a castle. How many people can say that?!

15) Having "old" mean "really old." Let me clarify: When a French person (or European person in general) says there's a really old something-or-other, it means it's from anywhere from B.C. to the 1700s. Americans consider stuff from the Civil War to be "old." Yeah....not exactly.

I really, really, really hate saying goodbye to people. Also, I don't know whether to get a different blog name for when I'm in Dublin this sumer (and beyond!) or keep the same blog. I mean, "A Nebraskan in France" is a little misleading when I'm actually in Ireland. I would probably change it to something a little more location-neutral. Suggestions? Thoughts? Comments? Insults? Compliments?

Bisous!
Claire

Things I Will Not Miss About France

1) Having no kitchen to use. Seriously, not cool. Especially when I've been thrown into culinary heaven and love to cook. It was torture getting French cooking lessons from my host mom and not being able to use our own kitchen.

2) Having no 24 hour anythings. Not kidding. This idea needs to get to France, and fast. Along the same lines: many stores close during lunch hour (which, for the French, is two hours), and practically everything is closed on Sundays. Throw strikes in there too (especially with the railroad--it wreaks havoc on travelling plans) and you've got to do some research before you want to go places. There was a facebook group called "The French will rule the world, except not tomorrow, there's a strike." I didn't join it because I don't think it's very likely that the French will rule the world anytime soon--too busy enjoying the food, aperitifs, and life.

3) The pricetags. The first two weeks of being here I converted everything to dollars in my head. Then I stopped. It just wasn't worth it anymore---you only live once (Well, technically more if you believe in reincarnation, but we won't get into that now). Being able to wash my clothes more than once or twice a month would be nice too.

4) Not being around family and friends from the US. I suck at staying in contact with people (besides this blog of course), and I wish I could stuff you all in my suitcase and take you with me. That, or we Muggles need to learn to apparate/use the Floo Network/get portkeys ASAP :)

5) My English getting worse while attempting to improve my French. A couple weeks ago, I literally asked my friend Matt, "Is those printers working?", which made him laugh and made me embarrassed. Although I wouldn't object to developing an Irish accent while in Dublin this summer.

6) The lack of good current French music. After asking several French people for music recommendations, I would mostly get a) blank stares b) suggestions for American music or c) French musicians who sing in English (i.e. Phoenix or David Guetta). To be honest, I don't think this is really France's fault. English is the Latin of our time, and there's no comparison to America's music industry and international marketing ability.

7) The double kiss. Sometimes between friends I think it's nice, but I think it's totally awkward to touch faces and make a little smacking sound to people I don't even know yet. I've had several uncomfortable experiences of 1) my hand getting smashed in between our bodies as I (stupid American!) go for the handshake and they, clearly, go for the double kiss or 2) being unsure of how many times to "faire la bise." It changes from place to place, and one can never be too sure that the other person is going to stop at two (it can go up to five!), resulting in awkward encounters. We'll leave it at that.

8) The incredible amount of forms/bureaucracy needed for absolutely everything. I swear, form-gathering is a type of national sport, and I was lucky not having to get into the tricky business of renting an apartment. Want to apply for something? Better have your place of residence form, birth certificate, visa, and a photo of yourself for good measure. For my volunteering program here, I had to give practically every form I ever had, and we had to have our French host mom help us get bikes with her French bank account number. We learned in my French socio-cultural studies class that in order to get a job, you have to have proof of housing, and in order to get housing, you have to have proof of a job. Figure that one out.

9) The lack of peanut butter. Random I know, but French people definitely prefer their Nutella. Peanut butter in France is lower quality, more expensive, and much harder to find. This girl's gotta have my pb and js. Some other Notre Dame students had their parents mail them some or had their families bring some good old Jif from the US when they came to visit.

10) All of the smoking. Luckily my host family didn't smoke and new smoking laws ban tobacco inside most establishments, but I was absolutely horrified at all of the kids smoking outside the high schools. Huge smoky crowds would develop outside any building (especially bars late at night). France is a pulmonologist's nightmare.

11) Not ever having ice! I'm getting used to having lukewarm to mildly cold beverages, but thank God it's not quite summer yet otherwise I'd be dying. Oh, and free water waiting for you at restaurants=non-existant. You always have to ask for it, sometimes you have to pay for it, and they never give you enough. Americans, apparently, are camels.

Another post: Things I Will Miss About France :)

On that happy note, I bid France a very, very fond à bientôt.

Things I Learned from My Travels

1) Couchsurfing. Do it, Love it. Seriously. I've realized that if you want to really experience "the real culture" of a place, there are realistically two ways to do it: couchsurf, or know someone who lives there who can show you around (or at the very least, make friends with locals who can give you advice on what to do). Yes, there are a few somewhat creepy people, but for the most part my experiences with it have been great.

2) The traveler's paradox (at least for Americans): We want to experience "cultural things" like a "real" French dinner, or a "traditional" German beerhouse. Everyone dreams of finding that perfect little hole-in-the-wall family-run restaurant in whatever country (Well, most of us. There are, of course, Americans who go to Europe and eat McDonalds). We often despise "tourist traps" but we are tourists ourselves. We are limited by our own language and culture. If you don't know any of the language at all, you're going to gravitate towards places with an English translation menu or at least English-speaking waiters. Going to Prague and finding ourselves without any signs in English or French was a bit scary. My friend Laure and I found ourselves terrified when we went to an Afghani restaurant in Munich without either of the above. We pointed to words on a menu, having no idea what they were going to bring out. It's very hard to have your foreign cake and speak English too. That's where #1 comes in!

3) Don't judge a culture by one person (or two, or three, or four people!).

4) Be aware of how you come across to people of other countries, for they will sometimes judge your culture by one person.

5) I tested my limits. My spring break was the first time I had really traveled by myself, including places where I didn't speak the language. It's scary, fun, and exciting to travel by yourself like that. There were times when I wished I had a travel companion (being by Lac Leman in Geneva, for example) and other times when it was kind of nice being a solitary traveler in a foreign land (at the very top of Mt. Pilatus, for example. So peaceful and meditative). I ate new foods, met new people, had interesting conversations, and was out of my comfort zone for 17 days.

6) Watch your money in "cheap places." Not necessarily for pickpockets, but for spending more than you think. For example, I spent more money in Prague for three and a half days than I did in Switzerland for a week, because a) we stayed in a cheap hostel, but a hostel nonetheless and b) My mindset was something like "OMG OMG OMG NO EUROS! EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP!" And some of it was. A pint costs 50 cents there, compared to 4 in France. But other things weren't so cheap. In Switzerland, in addition to couchsurfing the whole time, my mindset was something like "OMG OMG OMG NO EUROS, BUT SWISS FRANCS! EVERYTHING IS SO EXPENSIVE!" The only things I bought for five days in Switzerland were a banana, a bread roll, a chocolate bar (completely necessary!), a can of soup, as well as a bus ticket, a yoga class, and a lift ticket to peak of the Pilatus mountain.

7) Yoga, even in a different language, is still amazing. ahhh!

8) Be aware of how different factors affect your opinion of a place. The weather, tiredness level, and who you're with have enormous sway over whether or not you enjoyed a location. I realized this after I met up with my five friends in Berlin--all of them had gone to Oslo(!) while I was in Austria. And they thought it was awesome, while Hilary and I both thought it kind of sucked. The weather was pretty shitty our first day and a half in Prague, and all of us were exhausted. Two of my friends left early because they were just not digging it. The next day and a half were BEAUTIFUL, and after some rest I really began to like Prague a lot better. And I am firmly convinced that it's not where you are but who you're with!

9) One person's paradise is another person's hell. Know what type of traveller (see number 12) the person giving you advice is and how the "three factors": weather, fatigue, and companions, affected their trip.

10) Globalization, and Americanization are the names of the game, for better and worse. McDonalds are everywhere in Europe, as well as English speakers of varying degrees. I'm going to make another post about this later, but it was weird having every European know who Obama, Biden, and Palin were when I couldn't name any of their politicians (not France or Germany, but come on, who knows any current Czech Republic government figures?). Even graffiti is often in English!

11) Learn to go with the flow, especially when you can't do anything about the situation...like volcanoes you can't pronounce blowing up in Iceland.

12) There are different kinds of travel personalities: The chill-out-and-do-nothing traveler, the tourist-trap magnet, the guided-tour group junkie, the extreme cheapo traveler, the no-budget-at-all tourist, the I'm-only-here-for-the-nightlife type, the I'm-so-cultured-I-was-born-in-a-museum kind, on and on. I think it's hard to find someone who agrees on everything unless you have an identical twin, but if you want to hit every museum in town and they want to go out until 5 am and crash until 3pm everyday, or if you're planning on living off a piece of bread a day and they want to splurge on Michelin-starred meals, you're going to have problems. I was lucky to be with a group of people who I got along with and had a basically similar travel philosophy: student budget, spend money on worthwhile stuff (new experiences, a good meal once in awhile), see a few museums/attractions balanced with free, walking around-type sightseeing balanced with going out at night.

13) Technology has forever changed travel, the world, and how we interact with it. I was listening to my Dad's music mixes on my ipod while riding trains across Europe (note to Dad: Mixed Irish and Sixties Summer 1 and 2 are excellent!). When I got stuck because of the volcano, everyone was on their laptops or in internet cafes changing their travel plans: planes, trains, buses, cars. I could skype with my mom and ask her about what I should do instantaneously.

15) Don't forget the natural, free stuff! Climbing the Pilatus mountain in Switzerland was one of the greatest experiences. I did pay for a lift ticket to the very top of the mountain, but we also hiked for about 3 hours to get that point (we could have paid for a much pricier ticket to ride the whole way up and down the mountain, but it was far better to hike!). Going to the park in Munich was also tons of fun.

16) You will NEVER appreciate clean laundry as much as after having spent 17 days in four outfits. I'm pretty sure Angers could smell me while I was still in Paris.

17) When in doubt, say yes.

I've learned so much from my experiences here in France, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to do it.

Dublin in three days :)

Bisous,

Claire