Meghan’s posterous

The week seems awfully young to me.  During my call day on monday, my fourteen year-old patient came in for a labor check (actually she told me over the phone she was bleeding, but it turned out to be more of early labor than anything else).  Later she comes back in actual labor, though not in as much pain as she should have been.  As my shift ended she did kick in though.  At one point I did an exam and the head was so high, I wasnt sure it was even a head.  I grabbed an ultrasound and a resident to check presentation and sure enough vertex, but out of the pelvis.  The resident made sure to tell me I shouldnt break the the patients water.  (risk for cord prolapse) frankly I didnt need a resident to tell me that.  He wasnt in the room when i was examining her and literally telling the nurse precidely that- I wasnt going to break the water because the head was too high.  The arrogance of the resident and the assumption that I didnt know what I was doing really pissed me off.

Though the early parts of her labor did not look promising, she ended up with a beautiful NSVD later that day- pushed for 20min with an epidural.  as my fellow midwife, who delivered her, said  "you just have to let them get to fully and let them do their fourteen year old thing."

Today I had a 13 year old come in for irregular periods.  She has only been menstruating for 6 months.  When I was 10 yrs old we had "puberty night" at school where moms and daughters (there was a separate one for dads and sons)  all learned about our periods- and other things like TSS and how to tell you teacher you really need to use the bathroom. I got my first period at age 12 and then got another one two weeks later- when I told my mom she acted surprise and said "but you just had one two weeks ago!?!"  I explained to her, what we had both learned at puberty night. "teenagers are irrgular in the beginning, mom!"  Apparently they dont have such a puberty night in New Haven.   This mom and daughter were surprisingly close. I wouldnt have told my mother about my first period if we didnt need maxipads.  But this mom and daughter were so close that the daughter apparently had some sort of folliculitis on her labia a few months ago and the mom went  ahead and popped the labia zit for her.  Mom was also worried that one of her daughter's labia was longer than the other. And that her daughter's clitoris was too small.  Should I be concerned about how much this mother knows about her daughter's vulva? meanwhile, her anatomy was normal.

I was also asked if I was a student today by not only the security guys at the front desk of my building, but by a patient.  At least the patient was wowwed by my "beautiful skin."  ahh, youth.

TV alarm/wake up call did not work!  Thank god for my thoughtfulness about two alarms.  I got myself dressed and out the door, checked out and on the shuttle in under 15 minutes. Pretty good.  The flight to Geneva was unremarkable- I slept the whole way there.  In Geneva I had to get my bag and re-checkin.  There, my bag suddenly weighed 1.4 kilos over the limit.  The guy was nice- he pointed it out, but let it slide. I think again it was because how cute I am.  So now I was in Geneva but with no Dana.  How sad.   I found a little café that advertised WiFi- which is great except, I kind of thought it would be free the way it was advertised.  Wrong. I should have known better.  Geneva is expensive.  So I sat with my coke, chocolate croissant and did an hour worth of facebooking. 

Back on a plane headed back to London, the woman in the seat in front of me kept looking back.  Finally she said to stop hitting her seat.  Now, I've ridden on any a plane. Many in the several days- so far a total of 7 for this vacation alone, and no one has ever complained that I was hitting their seat.  I think I know how to be a courteous plane passenger.  I said I'm not.  She said you are. It hurts.  I gave a quizzical look towards the guy in my row- he looked back at me sympathetically.  Clearly this woman was on drugs.  After many a back and forth- so annoying that I almost started crying (yes, crying is my fall back emotion.  I cry when I'm sad. Angry. Frustrated. Annoyed.  I don't like it but I do)- I finally pointed out the numerous (at least 2 in each row) seats that were unoccupied.  Go get another seat lady. But she didn't.

So far I had been lucky- no baggage lost, most of the flights spacious because they weren't full and no delays.  All up until the last flight.  We sat on the runway delayed for a good 1.5hrs.  All I could think about was the CT Limo.  I was told there was one at 10p that would take me home to new haven at half past midnight.  Last time I booked CT Limo and my plane was delayed, they had stopped running by the time I got in and I was stranded in nyc.  I calmed my nerves with several glasses of wine, and eventually fell asleep.  We landed 20min to 10 and I had to get through customs and get my bags.  Waiting in line I of course got stuck behind the one person who didn't have the proper documentation.  After 10 min, I finally asked the customs guy if I could go to another window.  He said the woman ahead of me would be done soon.  Arggh.  I finally get through and get my bag- it not 10:05.  I rush to find CT limo and cannot seem to find the "courtesy phone" they talked about in the email.  I give up and no longer run and someone finally helps me.  Turns out there was one available to come get me in 20min.  all that stress for nothing.

I finally get home after taking CT limo to long wharf, then wait for a taxi in the freezing cold.  I fall into bed, only to wake up 5 hours later and start working.  Back to reality.

We woke up to a text message from Dana's phone.  She bought a pay as you go phone yesterday because neither of her Swiss phones work here in Ireland.  Now she has four phones (2 Swiss, 1 American and 1 Irish).  The text was just welcoming her to the service.  Nice and early on a Sunday morning.  So up we got, packed and brought our bags down to reception- they said they could store our bags for the day.  We decided to lug around our backpacks so we could keep our laptops with us- we were worried about leaving them in the hotel storage room.  We had also decided to do one of the tour buses around Dublin, so we knew were weren't going to do a lot of walking.

First things first though- we needed breakfast.  This time we found the place we wanted- a brunch restaurant called sixty6. It was completely empty, but that didn't stop us.  Brunch was great!  I had French toast with bacon (again, they love their bacon!) and Dana had a frittata with chorizo and other yummy stuff.  I also had a pot of tea- I love how here when you order tea, they bring you a whole pot.  Dana kindly bought me brunch, which was also a nice treat.

Then it was my turn to drag Dana around for a little shopping. I had hit up many shoe stores in search of boots with Dana and now I wanted an Irish sweater.  The books directed us to one particular street and we fell upon a store that was having pretty decent sales with lots of Irish sweaters.  I first tried on the traditional kid (natural yellow-white in color), but they really just washed me out.  I don't know why the Irish thought that's a good idea- white on white skin.  I also learned that although anywhere else I was wearing a size large (the polo shirt I bought at Guinness was size large), here I was a small!  What  nice surprise.  Anything bigger made me look boxy. After trying on numerous sweaters in different styles and branching out to different colors, I found two that I really like.  One long brown sweater that fell past my butt that zipped up the front and another cardigan type with a fun style- one collar button in front in a burnt reddish color.  I was torn.  I liked them both so much.  So I bought them both. They were on sale, so I figured it was justified. 

After my success with sweaters we found a bus stop for the Dublin Tour on the street (we had bought tickets at our hotel).  It was a double decker buss with the driver also acting as a tour guide. It was perfect- we got to see parts of Dublin we hadn't seen yet and hear all sorts of little facts.  We learned that one of the wives of a Guinness man had 21 children. 21.  Good god.  Or as they say at Guinness- My goodness My Guinness!  We thought about getting off at Dublinia, a medieval version of what Dublin was like back then, but decided to wait and see if we had time at the end.  There was something we wanted to see more- the Jamison Distillery.  We took the bus around Dublin and crossed the River Liffey for the first time.  We got off at the stop for the distillery and found our way there.  We got tickets for the tour and sat at the bar while we waited for the next tour to begin.  I ordered a hot chocolate with Jamison and Dana had an Irish coffee.  The bartender again was eastern European- fro Poland I learned.  While I was talking to the bartender, an old Irish looking man started talking to Dana.  He had asked where we were from and when we told him, he asked if we had even seen any cowboys.  I had, Dana hadn't.  He also asked if we had seen any Indians.  I mentioned that we don't really call them Indians any more- Native Americans.  He then proceeded to ask another bartender (with dark hair and olive skin) what tribe she was from.  Luckily the bartender didn't understand him. I don't know if he was drunk or just senile, but that was the end of the conversation.

Our tour guide at the distillery was quite unenthusiastic.  Dana thought he was just snarky (he would tell the clearly well worn jokes with a very flat countenance) but I eventually figured out that I thought he was hungover.  Maybe a bit of both. The first part of the tour was a video- which felt more like a commercial that information about how whiskey was made or about the Jamisons.  The guide then asked for some volunteers who would be needed to do some whiskey tasting at the end of the tour.  He needed four women and four men. Women volunteers were harder to come by so Dana and I each volunteered.  But not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into. We then went through the tour and basically learned how whiskey is made and what makes Jamison special.  The tour ended at a bar where everyone got a complimentary glass of Jamison straight up or mixed with cranberry, gingerale or coke.  Except the volunteers. We were ushered to a table at the end of the room where places mats with three shots of whiskey laid out on them.  One shot of Jamison, one of American whiskey and one of Scottish whiskey.  He led us through smelling and tasting each and comparing Jamison to the two others.  I discovered that I really don't like whisky that much.  I had to work hard not to gag as I took my small sips.  At the end we each had to vote which one we liked best.  And sure enough we all like the Jamison the best.  Truth be told, even though I don t like whiskey, Jamison was the best.  Dana and I (and the other volunteers) were then given another glass of whiskey and a certificate for being such good whiskey tasters.  I did not drink my whiskey.

We needed lunch so we ate at the restaurant in the distillery- both of us had the special, fish and chips.  Now we've eaten all the good Irish stuff- traditional Irish breakfast, Irish soda bread, Guinness, Irish whiskey, bangers and mash and fish and chips.  We then found the bus stop and continued our bus tour.  We got to see O'Connell street, which is famous for something, but we both forget for what.  The bus then stopped at its mainstop and said it wasn't going further (we thought the buses ran for anther hour or so- apparently not).  So off we got and began our walk back to the hotel.  In the rain.

The day was pretty gray and eventually started raining.  It made me realize that we had nothing but great weather so far. A little windy, but mostly sunny and pretty mild (40-50 degrees compared to the 20 degrees it was in New Haven)

The timing worked out well.  We got our bags- I did a little repacking and then we headed out I had to say goodbye to Dana at a street corner in the rain.  It was sad to think the vacation was actually ending.  It was such an easy one.  I usually get a little sick of vacationing or the person/people I'm with, but I wasn't yet!  And I loooooved Ireland.  I guess I'll just have to come back.  Maybe I could get a PhD here….. 

Dana headed to her bus stop and I headed to mine.  I only had to wait 15 minutes to catch my bus and got to the airport with plenty of time.  I tried again at the British airways desk to see if I could make my Geneva plane trips disappear, but still no luck.  I checked in and went to my gate. Had about an hour and a half to kill, so I sat in a pub and had me a Smithwick's as I blogged. Quite nice to blog with a beer.  The plane was not very full at all- 11 people. In America the flight would have been cancelled.  But not here, which I'm glad for. The flight attendants were very nice for the 54 minute flight. I asked for a beer and the flight attendant brought me two Heinekens.  When we arrived I made myself to my hotel- the Holiday Inn and checked in.  I quickly ordered room service (the only option at 10pm)- nachos, with some of my Swiss chocolate for dessert)- took a quick shower, watched a bit of TV.  I watched the beginning of Castaway, which was probably not the best choice for someone about to take three flights the next day. Oh well. I then set the wake up call- which the guy at the front desk said would be easy- you do it through the tv.  It seemed simple enough but I didn't trust it, so I pulled out my cell phone and set that one for a few minutes later (5:30am), just in case and went to bed.

                           

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I woke in the morning, early as I do after a night of drinking, feeling remarkably well.  I think it helped to have drunk a whole lot of water before I went to sleep.  Dana woke feeling not as great- she had a few more beers and a bit less water. But she was a trooper.  We got ourselves together and headed out to find breakfast.  We knew that there was much more past Avalon house, full Irish breakfasts, French toast, breakfast burritos and we were in great need of some real food- specifically fried and meaty.  So we went looking, but somehow couldn't find most of those places, so we settled on the breakfast burrito place.  It was a cute café- called Darwin's and we had to fight a crowd of business school students who had just been let out between exams (on a Saturday?) and were in need of coffee.  But we found a table and ordered a breakfast burrito each.  When the food arrived, it looked nothing like a burrito.  It was scrambled eggs, a tiny salad/garnish and a biscuit with bacon, sausage and cheese, toasted- oh and orange juice.  Apparently the Irish don't know what a burrito is.  We ate it anyways and it was good- not as filling as a full Irish breakfast would have been, but it did the job (I had to top mine off with a chocolate croissant and Dana needed a fancy coffee).  When we left we realized that the cook had made up the breakfast special (thanks to a sign outside, spelling out the special)- not burritos. Made me feel better that the Irish probably do know what a burrito is.

We had decided to do a little shopping today.  First we went searching for the markets.  Our tour books listed several markets- a fashion one, a food one, a book one.  First up: fashion.  We wound our way around the city streets to Cow's lane.  Keep in mind, Dublin streets are in no way easy to follow- they are not in any grid form- curving this was and that.  But perhaps more importantly they rarely have a street sign. If you're lucky you may find one on a side of a building at a corner.  But do think that's it, because in one block it will probably change its name.  This might explain why there are no house numbers either.  Because you can just say you live on Main Street or the store is on North Street, and it'll be easy to find, because the street is only one block long.  Anyways, we headed to Cow's lane for the Fashion market.  Except there was not market there.  Guess it doesn't run anymore. Though we walked all the way there, it was not a waste of time. On the way we passed the Arlington Hotel, which offered a three-course meal with a show of Irish dancing and music for 30 euros.  This place was on the list of recommendation from the Guinness guys- so we popped in and made ourselves a reservation for that night.  We had yet to see or hear some live Irish music and it was our last night in Dublin.

Then on to the next market- the food market- very cute little market full of cooked foods, cheeses, meats, sweets.  If I lived in Dublin I'd totally hit it up every weekend.  We decided to walk down Temple Bar, a very popular street for nightlife, which we had avoided because we heard on weekends its very tourist and bachelorette party-like at night.  But during the day it was quite cute.  We stumbled upon the book market, which we were trying to avoid because we both didn't need any more to carry in our bags.  Sure enough I bought myself a cd of Irish drinking songs and Dana got herself two books.  I'm so excited for her- I convinced her to buy Angela's Ashes to read while she was in Ireland.  Such a good (but depressing book).  I stopped for a bit to take some pics of signs with my brother's name on them- I thought it nice that the name Rory is all over the place in Ireland.  Dana found a cute little store and bought herself a new bag- very retro and hip.  Then on to Grafton Street, a cobblestone pedestrian street in Dublin lines with all sorts of shops.  Dana wanted to check out Clarks- she was still looking for that perfect pair of boots.  This time, success! 

We stopped back quickly at our hotel and then went out to meet Kirsten.  We found her easily and wound our way around town looking for a place for a snack or cup of joe.  We found a crepe place, which was perfect. I had myself a bacon, tomato and cheese crepe (Dana had an apple one with ice cream)- the Irish sure love their bacon (and so do I!).  As we ate we caught up a bit- Kirsten is working for a company called State Street, which sounded somewhat familiar- isn't that the company my brother works for?  Apparently yes.  But Rory works in Boston, not Dublin (in case there was any confusion).  So Kirsten has been working for then for 5 years- the last three in Dublin- but she's actually soon to come home. Quit her job, travel around South American for a month, visit her boyfriend in Ireland for a bit and then settle down in the US.  Must be nice to make enough money to do that.  I still had trouble getting over her Irish accent. Dana thought she had a fake tan, which is something I cant really understand- why tan in Ireland?  I know there is no sun, but everyone is pasty white, so if you have even an ounce of natural color (which I know Kirsten does), you already look tan compared to those around you.  To each his own.

We wrapped things up, said our goodbyes and Dana and I headed to The Avalon to spend some quality time with the internet.  We got some WiFi in our hotel room, but facebook was blocked!  And it was nice to be out in a café catching up on internet.  Dana ordered a white mocha and I had a fancy hot chocolate.  Dana liked the barista- quite her type: meaty, shaved head, a little surly looking.  The other person working at the café was a woman who was clearly eastern European.  That's one thing we noticed- there were so many eastern Europeans working in Ireland- at the Carvery in Trim, in Clarks, at the breakfast burrito place, at the Harcourt Hotel- everywhere.  Interesting. I wonder why they gravitate to Ireland.

Once we got our fill of facebook and the like (or actually when our computer batteries ran out) we went back to the hotel for a shower and change of clothes to get ready for our night out.  As we were getting ready I called British Airways to see if I could do anything about my flights the next days.  When I booked my trip, first I booked my flight to and from Geneva.  The later I booked to and from Dublin, which meant I had to go back to Geneva before I could fly home to the States. The kicker was my trip was planned like this: fly from Dublin to Gatwick in London. Stay the night.  Fly Gatwick London to Geneva.  Get my bag, re-check-in. Fly Geneva to Heathrow London.  Fly Heathrow to JFK.  It just didn't make sense to me to fly from and to London, so I tried to see if I could just eliminate my Geneva leg of the trip.  Apparently not.  I basically would have to buy a new ticket from London to JFK.  It just wasn't worth the money. 

After we got all gussied up (not as much as the night before- our goal was to have an Irish night, not to find Irish men), we headed to the Arlington Hotel.  Our reservations were for the 7:30 and the show started at half eight (8:30).  We were seated at the end of a long table that we would eventually share with more people.  We had some choices for our three-course meal.  Dana and I each had the seafood trio for a starter.  I really wanted to try the Dublin Bay Prawn, which was special to Dublin and the tour books said it was delicious- compared it more to lobster.  I was a bit disappointed when the part of the appetizer with the bay prawn only had a piece of the prawn about the size of a quarter.  But it was good. Next I had some sort of fish and Dana had beef something.  For dessert we each had another trio- strawberry mouse, chocolate cake and something cheesecakey.  I decided that though we were in Ireland I wanted to pair my dinner with wine.  I had had enough beer the night before.  What also made this place a bit unique is that it had some tables where you could pour your own pint.  There were four drafts at the center and some sort of counter, which totaled up how much you drank.  Interesting.  We were not at one of those tables, luckily for me. 

Before the entertainment started, our table filled up with a large part of about eight people- all young Irish couples.  They were interesting to watch and look at.  One couple especially to look at- they each had very normal profiles but looking at them head-on, they were each rather funny looking. And oh, the teeth.  It's true, the Irish have bad teeth. Anthony clearly did- hence the braces.  But I don't think orthodontistry is as popular here as it is in the States.  I wonder if it's because of the expense or it's just much more culturally acceptable to have crooked (very crooked) teeth.  And speaking of Anthony, Dana thought she saw him walk by.  I saw the guy- but he had no braces. Clearly an imposter.

First up on the venue was a little Irish music.  Three guys- a man on a variety of Irish flutes (who performed for Riverdance), a man on the fiddle (who did most of the talking) and a man on guitar (named Tom O'Connor, no less!).  They were really fun. Thee music was good and not cheesy. Seemed authentic.  Dana bought a CD from them to give to her dad, who now fancies himself part Irish (Geno Ciccone) because he's playing some music with an Irish guy.  Then came on some dancers- three women and a man.  One of the women had on waaaaay too much makeup, which did not compliment her bleach blonde hair dye.  Very odd combo when paired with a traditional Irish dancing costume.  Dana couldn't get over how much foundation she had one- I didn't notice because I was distracted by the glaring orange-red lipstick she had on.  Frankly I thought she looked like a stripper. Sad, because she danced well.  But she did cause some men in the audience to hoot and holler.  The dancing was good and fun to watch and then the musicians came on again one last time.  A great show overall.

We made our way home, very happy with our last night in Dublin.  The wind was blowing hard and we could hear it rattle in our hotel room.  It was a noisy night in our hotel- between the wind and some loud guys out on the street or in the club (that was in our hotel) – it was hard to tell where they were.  I had come prepared with earplugs and so I popped them in and promptly fell asleep.  Dana found a pair provided by the hotel and slept too.

         

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I tricked Dana this morning.  I know the secret to getting her to sleep in: close the curtains.  So on the sly I closed them as we were getting into bed the night before and we slept until past nine.  Once we got up and leisurely put ourselves together, we headed out find some breakfast.  We stumbled upon the Bald Barista, a mini coffee shop that's part of Avalon house, a well-known Hostel in Dublin.  They had some pastries- but we felt like we needed a little more protein.  Since they didn't have any eggs (or three different kinds of fried meat), I settled on a turkey and stuffing sandwich.  Dana had some sort  of sandwich and coffee and as we ate, we debated about walking to our first site versus taking the bus.  We were headed to the Kilmainham jail, which the tour books said was 3mi outside of the city center.  I thought it might have been more like 2 miles.  We decided to go for it- we needed a good walk to burn off all the beer, bangers and mash.  At the very beginning of our walk we walked past several much better breakfast places- offering anything from pancakes to breakfast burritos to traditional Irish breakfast.  We had jumped the gun at the Bald Barista- oh well.  So we headed through town to find the jail. 

Along the way we pasted Dublin castle, which we didn't even try to go in (with our luck, we assumed it would be closed)- so we settled for some pictures from the outside. We also passed many many churches- I shouldn't have been surprised, eh?  But they were pretty and even picture inspiring.  We got the true pedestrian experience, walking the streets in Dublin.  In the car, I constantly had to remind myself which side to drive on.  On foot, we had to constantly remind ourselves which way to look, so we'd know where the cars were coming from.  Luckily, the city of Dublin was looking out for us- they have painted at the crosswalks "look left" or "look right" so you know where to look before crossing.

After about 45 minutes of walking through the main streets of Dublin and then the less interesting (and probably less safe) parts of Dublin, we arrived at the Kilmainham jail.  Again, our timing was pretty good.  We had about 20 minutes to look around the museum and then our tour started.  Our tour guide greeted us first in Irish (not Gaelic, which is what I thought it's called). Of note, every thing in Ireland is written/signed in both English and Irish.  It's surprising because I don't think many people in Ireland speak Irish (I learned a little more about his later on). And then he, as all of our tour guides started out, said "You're very very welcome here," which I think is such a nice way to start things off.   Beats saying "welcome to Ireland."  No. We are very very welcome to Ireland.

So the jail was totally worth the walk.  We learned all about Irish and Dublin political history, about short and long hanging (long is much more humane), what movies and tv show that featured the jail, about apolitical prisoner that got married the night before his hanging (marriage was not consummated, I assume).  It was both depressing and fascinating.

After hearing such depressing history, we decided we needed a beer.  Off to the Guinness brewery- which was actually the Guinness storehouse, which back in the day was used to store beer (a technical part of the brewing process, I think fermenting).  We walked through seven flights of-y information (how beer is brewed, what makes Guinness special, history of the founders, advertising…).  There was even a tasting room where we got to try a new brew- Guinness mid-strength (because sometimes less is more)- though I don't know why one would want to drink less strong Guinness.  The advertising section was also entertaining.  I had two favorites- the first a picture of guinesses all lined up, underneath, the slogan: black is beautiful.  The second an advertisement about how Guinness is good for you, endorsed by doctors who prescribe it for breastfeeding mothers and ill bellies, because it acts as a "stomachic" and promotes a happy countenance.  Nice.  At the tope floor we went to the Gravity Bar where we got our free pint of Guinness (complete with shamrock in the foam) and sat, looking around at the 360 degree panoramic view of Dublin.  Unfortunately, as much as I try, I actually don't like Guinness all that much.  Don't worry, there are plenty of good Irish beers I do like.  Just not Guinness. 

We again found ourselves in the middle of the afternoon (2:30ish) not having eaten lunch.  This time we decided not to wait- we had learned our lesson the last time- and ate at the first opportunity- the restaurant tin the Guinness storehouse.  Dana had herself a burger (an appropriate choice, I thought) and I had the "bacon on cabbage and mash."  Before I ordered, I asked our waiter- by bacon, do you mean "bacon? Like bacon-bacon?"  Thinking my question perfectly reasonable, because it sounded like a funny dish.  But we were in Ireland, so who knows, bacon could have meant something else. O, yeah- bacon, like breakfast bacon" he replied.  Nice.  I love bacon and I'm getting plenty of it in Ireland because the Irish love their churches and their bacon.  When my food came, I had mashed potatoes with cabbage on top and a slab of mean that most certainly did not look like bacon.  So apparently bacon is sometimes the breakfast meat (I had had it before on our trip) and sometimes a slab of pork.  I ate it. It was yummy.

Afterwards, we hit up the gift shop where I walked away with a t-shirt (I'm all set for St. Patrick's day) and a bottle opener. When we were checking out, Dana struck up a little conversation with one of the guys at the register, with his thick Irish accent (gotta love a man with an Irish accent, not matter how cute, or not cute, he may be).  He gave us some recommendations where to go for some live Irish music.  I asked how late bars stay open- he said the ones that stay open really late are the clubs with stay open till "half trees" (half threes).  Dana asked- is that half past three or half till three.  The fella was actually kind of confused by the answer- but eventually figured it out and was able to tell us it meant 3:30. Or "tree-turty" by his marble filled mouth. I don't know why it was, but Dana and I just looooved that.  Tree turty.  The epitome of the Irish accent. We left with bar recommendations in had, mimicking our new favorite phrase.

We then walked along the river Liffey, which made me excited to go back to New Haven and tell them at Anna Liffey's that I recently walked along the river Liffey.  Do you think they'll give me a free beer?  We then tracked down the Happy Store where Dana bought her bus ticket to Galway- a process which frankly took much longer than it should.  At least we got to see the O'Connell street bridge- which I think is a sight we are supposed to see. It was a bridge.  It was rush hour.  It was filled with people. We walked home and got ourselves together for a night on the town. 

Before we headed out, I tried to figure out the Irish phone system.  I had gotten an email from my sister earlier that day saying that my dad was nagging her (phone, email, the works) that I get in touch with a family friend of ours here in Dublin.  Why he didn't send me an email?  Sometimes its best not to question my father. After a few misguided attempts, I finally figured it out and was able to dial from my hotel phone (75 cents a minute!) and called up Kirsten.  Her family and my family have been friends since we basically moved to Norwell (when I was age 5).  We spent many days at the community pool and many Christmas Eves together as families.  Kirsten is their oldest of two daughters and I hardly recognized her over the phone- she had totally acclimated to the Irish accent.  We agreed to meet the next day for coffee and a bit catching up.

Having been out only one night in Dublin I was unsure what the dress was like out and about on a Friday night.  But Dana and I decided to go all out- we put on dresses (two pairs of stockings to keep warm) and makeup and hit the town.  We went in search of a bar that played Irish music.  The first we looked for on the recommendation of the Guinness guys was nowhere to be found.  It was supposed to be near our hotel, so at least we didn't walk far and we continued on.  We found the next place they recommended- the Stags Head.  It was crowded enough- but the crowd seemed a little on the older side for us.  There was a sign for Irish music but it didn't start until 10 (it was only 8).  So we had ourselves a beer and then decided to move on- to the bar next door, tough I don't quite remember the name.  The scene was pretty much the same at this bar.  A little smaller, a little less crowded, a little more boring. A pint there and then we moved on again.  We weren't super hungry, but we knew we were in for a night of drinking, so Dana and I figured we needed some food.  Right across from the bar there was a Quiznos, that was open at 9:30- so we hit it up.  Not very Irish, I know, but it was convenient and exactly what we needed.

Moving on, we decided to try a third pub, a recommendation of the Guinness guys- The Porterhouse.  This one I had circled in my book, wanting o try it because it was a microbrew.  We found it quite easily and gave it a go.  This place was more our age and a bit of a scene.  The girls were dressed up (everything from fancy shirts, to dresses I would have called cocktail dresses.) The guys were typical guys- some in suits (having been there since end of work) and others in mere jeans and t-shirts.

Maybe now Ill talk a little bit about something both Dana and I gleefully observed about the men in Ireland.  They like their girls with a little bit of meat on them.  From day one up in Trim, we hardly saw a skinny girl and all the couples that had Irish accents were made up of a fine looking guy and a fine looking girl- with curves!  I loved it!  All these girls were really normal looking, a nice change from the super skinny in Geneva and the skinny in the US.  Dana and I had a bit of a goal- we hoped to each kiss an Irishman (hopefully not the same one), just for the experience, you know.  When we saw the kind of girls the Irish guys liked, we were optimistic.  When we heard their accents (like a mouth full of marbles) we were smitten!

So in we went to the Porterhouse with eyes open.  We hit up the bar and each ordered one of their microbrews.  I had some sort of Pilsner, which was all right.  We were watching the bartender in all his bartending glory (many people were ordering mixed drinks), making a strawberry daiquiri (I think).  He poured the two glasses and then gave Dana and I a glass of the leftovers!  Have I mentioned how much I love Ireland?  We decided to take our drinks and do some looking around.  Many a short men there in the Porterhouse- cute but short.  I started calling them leprechauns (not to their face, but to Dana) and decided perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to kiss a leprechaun.  We had set this goal, and I wanted to hurry up and accomplish it, so I could just enjoy the scene and not have to worry about coming home unsuccessful. 

Dana's skillful eyes found us an empty table and were able to take a seat. We started talking to the fellas next to use- one guy from South Africa and the other from Ireland.  The South African was a bit obnoxious and I got suckered into talking to him while Dana talked to the Irishman- who turned out to be a bit boring.  One of the asked where we were from, and I asked them to guess. (earlier, playing the same game, someone said Spain.  Meghan O'Connor and her pasty white skin.  Real Spanish.)  The South African said confidently "I know where you're from."  "Oh, yeah, where?" "The States.  Kentucky, in fact."  Hah!  Conversation with these guys didn't last too long.  They left and we went wandering again.

AT another table (I don't know how we got such luck with tables, it was very crowded in there, but I suppose Dana just had the eye tonight), I left Dana to use the bathroom.  In the bathroom, a girl struck up conversation with me- she asked where I got my dress and when I told her in America, she said "Wow! You're from America! That's amazing!" and then proceeded to give me a big hug.  I now have a new best friend, drunk but friendly nonetheless.  I love Ireland! When I got back to Dana she had made a friend- started talking to some Irish dude.  Truthfully, I was getting a little frustrated because I thought this would be the place and we weren't having much luck.  Or at least I wasn't.  Dana was deep in conversation and I was getting frustrated.  I was about to pull Dana away from her new friend to drag her home, when the fella's friend showed up and sat down next to me. 

Let me introduce Anthony.  Anthony is a builder, living in Dublin- but his family is from Wicklow.  He is tall, dark hair, kind of a cute face (I thought so at the time,  I still think so the next day- see picture below), a bit of scruff on the face and best of all- braces.  An Irishman with braces.  He told me he's in the middle of a bet with some friends to see if he couldn't shave his beard for a month or two.  If he went unshaven he'd win 100 euro.  I told him it was worth it.  After some conversation, Dana hit the bathroom and her friend (whose name was Dave- we'll get to him in a minute) went out for a smoke. Anthony told me he doesn't smoke, never had.  I was sold. While it was just me and him, I told him that I didn't want to leave Ireland without kissing an Irishman.  He didn't need much more invitation than that.  Plus I was intrigued by the braces- would I feel them?  Turns out, no.  Dave came back and caught us at the end of our kiss, which worked for his favor.  When Dana came back he told how he had caught us in the act and wondered if he could be so lucky.  (ahh, so charming the Irish guys are).  That led to them snookering across the table.  I have not been permitted by her to post certain photos, but I will show you him and Dana smiling for the camera below.  They boys bought us some more beers (the first ones anyone bought us so far!)  and we talked and "talked" some more until bar close.  I learned that Anthony went to an Irish school as a kid- meaning he learned Irish.  I asked him to speak some for me and he did!  Dana learned that Dave went to University and studied music production (how perfect for Dana) and spent a year in Philadelphia, but is now a builder.  Dana also told Dave that we went to the jail- though pronouncing the name of it apparently was a bit difficult for her.  She said we visited "kill-my-hi-a-men" jail.  Dave promptly said, "kill my hymen Jail?  I thought you would have done that long before!" Oh the Irish and their humor. Dana found it hilarious.

Dana suggested that they walk us back to our hotel (and made it clear that it was just walking).  So we had a nice little amble along St. Stephen's Green.  Anthony told me I should move to Dublin. (sigh). He also made it clear that he was a gentleman and so he didn't try to make any big moves on me (though he did say I have a nice bum).  As we walked I kept an eye on Dana and her new man- he seemed a little energetic.  (Later she told me he asked her to "have a go")  Overall it was a nice little walk home- with no funny business.  When we got to the hotel, Dave took Dana's number and Anthony took my email. (I wouldn't give him my phone number- its international.  Let's be realistic).  When we tried to get into the hotel, they wouldn't let the boys in to even the lobby.  There was this little old lady with a clipboard and she looked us up and saw that there were only two people staying in our room, so no boys allowed!  I found it hilarious (Anthony didn't even try to come in, he was a gentleman afterall).  Its like the hotel had paraidols (?sp)- those rules that some colleges have- no opposite sex visitors after 10p.  Dana and I went up to our room and filled each other in on the details, falling asleep thinking about how nice it is to be kissed once in a while.

Mission accomplished.

                                 

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Twelve hours of sleep.  Wow. I feel like a new person.  I woke still kind of coughy but feeling oh so much better. I loaded up on every type of vitamin Dana and I brought and we headed downstairs for breakfast- a traditional Irish breakfast.  We sat in Marie's dining room with old school china and everything.  We had fried eggs, fried tomatoes, sausage, bacon, black and white pudding, toast and Irish soda bread.  Holy cow.  (or pig).  I ate it all- except the pudding (which I tried).  It was amazing.

We then said good-bye to Marie and went in search of historic Irish sites- which meant getting in the car again and battling the rotaries.  First we went looking for the hills of Tara- supposedly a hilly place where kings used to be crowned.  We found it with little problems, which is pretty amazing, because many of the streets (both on the map and in real life) don't have names.  But we made a few guesses and arrived.  When we got there- we saw a signed that it was closed.  Just our luck.  Apparently traveling in the winter has its perks (few crowds, cheaper) but its downsides as well (things are closed). So we hit up the souvenir shop and took a look around.  It was manned by a very nice lady who told us how just the info center was closed- there was a turnstile that we could get through and still walk around. She also offered to show us a video about the history of the hills of Tara. Afterwards she was very chitchatty- gotta love these Irish folks, they're so friendly!  Beats the Swiss.- and she told us how here boyfriend is in Boston right now and studying to be a nurse.  He's due back soon.  Apparently the nursing licenses are transferable from the US to Ireland.  I may just have myself a job to do here in Ireland….

So we found the turnstile (very tricky) and waked up the hills of Tara- lots of little hills, covered in dog (?) shite.  So we had to watch where we stopped.  Or maybe it was sheep droppings, because we did see a lot of sheep.  There was a great old cemetery there too.  Greta views.  Lots of pics.  On top of one hill was a very phallic looking stone that the king to be crowned would touch. And when he did, it would roar- voiced from the ancestors roaring their approval.  I touched the stone. No roaring.  I guess I'm not meant to be king of Ireland. 

We popped back in the car and headed to Newgrange (Bru na boine in Irish).  That we found pretty easily as well- thank you Dana, the navigator.  We arrived in time to see a bit of the museum before the next tour.  From the visitor center we had to take a shuttle over to the Newgrange- which basically looks like a mound of grass surrounded by stone.  So apparently its 5000 years old- older than the pyramids and really a bit of an architectural feat.  The mound of grass is covering a ancient burial tomb.  There's this small little entrance, that we had to duck to get into and then we waddled along this corridor made of stone that got narrower and narrower (at one point I had to slide in sideways to fit) until it opened up into a bigger chamber.  I kept thinking how all the poor fat people wouldn't have been able to fit.  Inside the place was all stone- many with carvings on it (mostly spirals). At one point the guide turned off the lights and a beam of sunlight shot through the corridor and lit up the room a bit.  Apparently on the winter solstice, if it's sunny, at 9:00a the whole room lights up.  Really ancient- really cool.

After Newgrange, we got a hungry for lunch- it was 2:30 afterall.  We looked at the map and our plan was to take a drive down the coast before taking the car back.  WE had to go through one small city before the coast- Drogheda (which we nicknamed the Andromeda Strain, because we couldn't pronounce the actual name) and we figured it wouldn't take that long, so we'd stop in some pub there or along the coast for lunch. Well, we hit the Andromeda Strain during some sort of rush hour and navigating it was not so easy.  After about an hour we finally found the right path out of there and headed to the coast, with our stomachs growling.  We stumbled upon a small, but rather unremarkable, town and eventually found a pub that served food (it took a few tries).  Its very deceiving, actually- many of the local business look like pubs from the outside.  They have the old school lettering, the wood paneling, and then you come up close and find out it's a funeral parlor.  So now at 4:00 we sat down to lunch-  a blt for me and a chicken club for Dana with some pretty sizable chips on the side.  There we had our first beer in Ireland too.  Nothing too special about it all.  We then drove along the coast for a bit- not the big cliffs I'd imagined,  more beachy, but pretty nonetheless.  The sun started to set and the timing seemed perfect, because frankly, I didn't want to drive much in the dark.  Even after a day of driving, staying on the left side was still hard.  Every turn I made, I had to say out loud- Stay to the left.  And Dana quickly transformed that into the Beyonce song- To the Left, to the left…  So we started to head back and ended up having to back track a bit along the coast, which I didn't like so much- the roads were just so narrow! 

We found our way back to the airport to drop off the car, and I realized we needed gas.  I figured it'd be smart for a gas station to open up right near the rental car places- a good money making venture, but apparently the no Irishman has figured that out yet.  So we wound our way through the airport (under the advice of the Hertz guy) not quite understanding how there could be a gas station "in the airport" (which is what he said).  We searched and searched- but not finding it and begrudgingly I decided to go back and pay them to fill 'er up and then there it was!  Success! I felt like I conquered Ireland by car.  I gladly gave the keys back to Hertz and fell wholeheartedly into public transportation.  IT was lovely.  We took a shuttle bus to the city and found our hotel- The Harcourt Hotel, a cheap hotel that in some ways resembles a hostel.  We came prepared with earplugs because the reviews all said it was a bit noisy.  The room was nothing special- but definitely a step up from a hostel.  And we did need the earplugs- mostly from the people in the hallway late at night.

Once we settled into our room I really wanted to go out and get a pint.  So I convinced Dana to try out a local place that was listed in my guidebook- as a beatnikky kind of bar- Anseo. (Dana and I pronounced it an-say-oh, only to later find out it was called an-shoh).  Walking there we saw lots of other pubs, but with very few people in them- so I was kind of doubtful.  But in Anseo the place was pretty well filled- we couldn't get a seat, in fact.  There was a private party in the upstairs, so we didn't get a chance to check that out.  Though we did see many people coming up and down the stairs- mostly boys who looked about 16 years old in their skinny jeans (oh, European fashion).  There was a DJ- a skinny fella with long straight hair to his shoulders, whose coolness factor when up when we saw that he was playing music off records- and it was good music- chill, some old school rocky stuff, maybe a little hippie.  One of the bartenders was friendly and he helped me pick out a beer.  The other provided for some decent eye candy for both Dana and I.  I was quite surprised, because, as I've said earlier, Dana likes a little meat on her men, but this bartender was skinny (the way I like 'em).  Dana was smitten by how he wore his hat a little off to the side.  And he had nice shoes.  Dana likes men in good shoes.  We had two pints there, mainly people watching, Dana trying to catch the attention of the cute bartender to flirt, with little success.  But then when we were leaving he said to her- "you leaving?" "yup." "Come back, then, will you?" "we'll see…" "no really, you'll come back, right?"  Apparently she caught his attention.

We went next door to a restaurant that was still open at 10:30p and serving food.  Because we had lunch at 4, we were a little off schedule.  Dana ordered a salad and bangers and mash, while I had a brownie with ice cream.  One of my goals, not to feel guilty about money on this trip- the other not to feel guilty about what I eat.  I'm in the land of potatoes and beer, where breakfast consists of several different kinds of fried meat.  I can't worry myself now.  I'm enjoying it.  And the brownie was good- it had hazelnuts in it- I love how the Europeans love their hazelnuts. 

Afterwards, we stumbled back to our hotel, planned our next day and fell into bed.

                       

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4:40am came far too soon.  I absolutely positively could not fall asleep last night.  I don't know if I didn't wind down enough or was too excited for the trip the next day, but my mind wouldn't shut off.  Then I just kept getting anxious about not getting any sleep, making it harder to sleep.  The cycle continued.  I think I got about 2 hours sleep, only to dream horrible dreams about polygamy and incest.   Plus I woke with a bit of a cough. Ugh.  Nonetheless we packed up and headed to the airport.  And on a good note, my bangs looked great.  I had a chance to make them so the night before.

We arrived at the Geneva airport with plenty of time.  We had checked in the night before, which made things seamless when we arrived.  At the gate some guy, who we totally thought was European by the clothes asked us to watch his bags while he hit the bathroom.  When he came back, we started chatting and sure enough he was an American who had gone to Stanford Undergrad and Yale Law.  He was in Geneva for business and also visiting family in Italy (where his wife was from).  He was also a total prick.  He clearly wanted us to think he was very important- was very mysterious about his job and then got a call he had to take and talked in a very big, important voice.  I totally envy you, buddy.

Our first flight was to London and we were served a cold bacon and tomato sandwich.  Dana and I basically slept the whole way.  I was hoping for a bloody mary to help put me to sleep- no such luck.   But Dana had her trusty Xanax to help her along.  Fatigue set in and I slept well. For 30 minutes.  We had about a three hour layover in London (Gatwick), which turns out was somewhat needed- we had to go through security all over again.  Then we killed time in the airport- which was not unlike a little mall.  I wandered off to find some food and left Dana unattended.  She had warned me that the last time she flew and took Xanax she had gone on a little shopping spree.  When Dana and I finally met up again at the gate she came back with a new Swatch watch, new perfume and a hot pair of sunglasses.  "But they were all things I wanted to get in Geneva"  she said as an excuse.  The plane ride to Dublin was much the same- no bloody marys (aren't we going to a land full of drinkers?) and more sleep.  I was too grumpy to open my eyes and take in the Irish coastline as we landed, but Dana said it was gorgeous and green.

On arrival, our bags made it ok (both which weighed in just under the 21-kilo limit), I found an atm and we headed to rent our car.  Stepping outside and finding our rental car shuttle was eye opening- for the first time I realized that they drove on the left side of the road.  I though that might be the case, but I was sort of hopeful it wouldn't be. Maybe it's better that way- no real worrying about it beforehand.  When the cute young shuttle guy helped us with our bags, I tried to tip him and he smiled and refused.  Dana and I speculated about this for a bit- do they not tip here in Ireland?  We thought we had seen another family tip this guy at the airport.  Btu maybe we were wrong.  Later, when we were returning our car, there was a tip box for the shuttle man.  Our new theory is that we were just too cute to accept a tip from.

At Hertz I was suckered into getting the insurance (which cost just as much as the car did.)  I told myself that it's for the best- I'll be driving on the wrong side of the road with a stick shift on the wrong side.  Fine. I made a goal to try not to feel guilty about spending money, so here I go.  Outside we found we had a pimpin' car (or as pimpin' as they get for the economy class). Honda civic.  We had the option for getting an automatic but it was $15 more a day. (Dana doesn't drive stick), so I hit up the drivers sit (on the left side of course).

When I designated Dana as the navigator, she looked at me like a deer in the headlights.  She glanced at the map and said it looked like alphabet soup (I had also printed out google map directions to our B&B- which were just as scary).  But off we went!  Dana did great.  We made our way easily towards Trim.  Only twice did I drive on the wrong side of the road (both of which gave both Dana and I mini heart attacks).  When our directions came to an end, we looked about for the Tighe Cathain (our B&B) and saw nothing.  We were on a little Irish back road, with nothing that looked like a B&B in site.  I looked at our directions and noticed that there was no actual house number for the end point- google maps had just taken us to the street (turns out the website did not list a street number either- so not totally my fault).  So we drove one way for a bit, then the other, then stopped and asked directions at both a butcher (to a young man in a heavy apron covered in blood) and a post office- neither of which had heard of the place.  They did however point us in the direction of Trim, which was down the first road we had tried.  Finally, at the end of that road, we found it.  Hooray!  Of note, when we started on that road we were in the town of Longwood and the road was called Trim road and when we were at the end of the road (the very same road) it was in Trim and called Longwood Road. Confusing.

When we arrived, our host, Marie, came out to greet us.  She was just how I imagined her- this bubbly Irish grandmother, so friendly, chatty and happy to see us. "Didn't you bring the cold with you now, dears?"  She said, bristling at the chill.  Dana and I looked at each other and giggled- "We just came from Switzerland- Its lovely here! And sunny."  She led us up to our room- the pink room- a room with two twin beds and a queen bed, decorated in pink and white.  She was very worried about us being cold (the heat turned off at midnight) and so she pointed out the electric blankets.  She pointed out the teapot, so we could have a spot of tea with biscuits.  It was amazing.

At this point, I was close to starving (it was about 2pm) and not feeling great- my cough had worsened over the day.  Marie graciously pointed us in the direction towards town and gave us a recommendation of where to eat. Luckily it was a short walk away, so we did not have to brave the car again.  We walked along the road, and made friends with some donkeys who were grazing alongside.  At the rotary (did I mention the Irish seem to love their rotaries or "roundabouts"- every five feet there is one, and sometimes without serving a purpose.)we turned into town and found the hotel Marie recommended- very reasonably priced and they have a great "carvery."   We walked into the bar there, where they had a buffet- Dana got prime roast beef, roasted potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing and veggies.  I had chicken curry, rice and veggies.  I wish I had taken picture of the plates- because they just piled them higher and higher.  We were starving and so we dug in.  I found on a side table some Irish soda bread.  Growing up I had had some- I think my great aunt Theresa used to make it and I hated it.  But I gave it a shot and it was delicious here!  I guess something got lost in the translation from Ireland to America. 

After lunch we grudgingly pulled ourselves out of our chairs (we both could have fallen asleep easily there in the bar) and walked around town.  We found Trim castle, which was a really old and actually pretty cool castle that we could walk around.  But not into- it too was closed (open only on the weekends in the winter).  We don't have much luck with castles.  But we had a nice walk and got some good pics.  We stopped at the tourist center and I got a few souvenirs.  On our way home we popped by a pharmacy and got something for my dry cough and then some 'digestive biscuits" which are yummy cookies and not something made for the bowel.  When we got home, Dana made us some tea and I took a hot shower, a large dose of the cough syrup (because at this point I was feeling pretty miserable) and an ambient and went to sleep at 8pm.

                       

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Oh how lovely to sleep in today!  Earplugs and an eyemask helped.  I had crazy crazy dreams. Not good.  Why isn't the acupuncture helping?!?  I think it might be time to try hypnosis when I get back.

When I awoke, Dana's bed was made and she was gone- I found a note saying she was downstairs eating breakfast.  But before I could join her, she came back. Yay- time to start our day in Geneva!  I suited up and out the door we went. I decided the bangs just weren't cutting it today.  pinned them back and off I went.  Much better.  It's so nice to be carrying just a small bag instead of my overnight bah which I lugged all around Gruyeres, Montreux and Yberdon.  We headed out to the Red Cross Museum, which I was really excited for.  Dana said she had gone with her dad, which caused all sort of controversy (or just interesting debate- whatever view you want to take). First we stopped to get me a little snacky breakfast- an almond chocolate croissant. Boy, the Swiss know how to breakfast.

After a trek across the city, we arrived at the Red Cross Museum, which just so happens to be closed on Tuesdays (which it is today).  Ugh.  Geneva, the city of disappointment.  Luckily, the UN is right across the street.  So after walking back and forth up and down a hill (of course) trying to figure out which was the tourist entrance, Dana left me to run errands and I went in for the tour.  I was there a bit early so I hit up the gift shop, and found all sorts of fun things.    I liked reading the book titles, like "Malaria and Children across the world" or  "Hope after the Tsunami: Adolescents in Sri Lanka." (though I don think I'd have the patience to actually read the book).  Angelina JOlie wrote a book that was sold there. 

The tour started promptly on the hour.  We were told, very strictly, that we had to stay with the group and that if we were found outside the group we would be escorted off the premises immediately.  Yes, sir.  Our guide was German, I think, but gave the tour in English, which was such a relief.  HE had quite an accent and spoke fast, so he was a but hard to understand.  I think I got the gist of it though.  Basically the tour consisted of seeing a bunch of meeting rooms and hearing about the history. At one point the guide told us that all but two countries in the UN had ratified some legislation about protecting children's rights. Someone asked which two countries.  The answer: Somalia and the US.  I gasped.  Out of disgust (and I guess surprise- I didn't know)  Now, I will easily admit that I don't know much about the UN.  That's why I went on the tour (that and the Red Cross Museum was closed).  I do know about some things (birthing babies, sewing aprons, etc) but not the UN.  A minute later some kid (a backpacker across Europe- I had overheard him earlier talking to another couple) approached me and struck up conversation.  "So where you from?"  the US. "heh heh.  I figured after you gasped."  He then proceeded to lecture me and try to impress me with his knowledge about the UN.  You know buddy, I'm on the tour to learn something from the guide, who is official. Not from some punk ass kid from Canada, who is 21 and thinks he knows everything.  Get lost.  So aside from the meeting rooms, we did pass through a hallway with an exhibit- it was one panel political cartoons, each in some way supporting the UN or causes that the UN supports.  I got a chance to look at a couple, but it wasn't part of the tour (and I wasn't about to be separated from the group!)  I was really disappointed we couldn't see them more (Geneva, the city of disappointment).  And I wondered who were they for- the people who worked there?  I think the public would have gained more from them.

After the tour I met Dana in front of the main entrance (not the tourist entrance, as we learned earlier) of the UN.  There's a large chair sculpture in front.  It has one leg that is broken/burnt off.  It is supposed to be an encouragement to countries to ban landmines.  I thought it was actually really moving and clever.

Dana and I then headed back downtown to Manor (the department store with the chocolate).  There we grabbed some lunch- there were food counters all over.  I tried to ask for a slice of foccacia with veggies on it. Dana was off getting some Lebanese food and so I was on my own.  The woman pointed me somewhere else and babbled in French.  So I circled around a bit and then came back and asked for something different.   I ended up with pepperoni foccacia.  I don't like pepperoni. Geneva, the city of disappointment. Finally I was able to get a slice of cheese pizza.  Success!  Afterwards Dana and I bought more chocolate (the Swiss love their chocolate).  I bought a watch (the Swiss love their watches). I also got two pairs of funky tights (the Swiss love their stockings) And Dana looked at boot (yup, the Swiss love their boots too.).  No success for her in Manor.  We looked in 3 other stores and couldn't find a pair the looked good and was comfy and under $300. No boots for Dana.  Geneva: the city of disappointment.  We also went to try and get Danas computer keyboard fixed at the Apple store.  Turns out they need three days just to unstick the delete and return key (whole keyboard needs to be replaced)- looks like that'll have to wait til she gets back from Ireland.  And one more time- Geneva, city of disappointment.  While she was figuring that out, I played around on the internet on one of their computers.  I learned that the Swiss keyboard is different from ours- the y and the z are switched.  Hah.

We then popped into this cute little coffee shop where we had some amazing hot chocolate- they melt chocolate and then pour milk into it.  That's the way to do it.  We saw a little of the old town and then walked along the waterway home and settled in for the night.  Lots of walking and our legs were tired.  Dana cooked and gave away all she had in her fridge.  We ate chicken, mushrooms and broccoli and she made guacamole.  Very yummy. Very filling. 

We're now packed for Ireland.  We leave early early early tomorrow.  Dana set the alarm for 4:40am and she just turned out the light.  I guess that's my sign to go to bed.

                         

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Day_5_Geneva_the_city_of_disap.zip (9967 KB)

After a surprisingly restless nights sleep, I again struggled to get up.  Jet lag still has its claws in me.  That and the fact that the sun didn't come up till almost 8am.  I guess that's what happens in a town surrounded by mountains.  When I woke, my hair was not quite agreeing with me. The bangs.  But I was not going to be high maintenance.  We were headed to the baths where I figured they'd get wet anyways.  Plus I was an adventurer.  Adventurers do not care about bangs. 

Once up, I felt good.  Sooooo good to not be hungover.  My resolution is to drink more water today.  Lots of water. Like it's my job.

We headed down to breakfast (included in our stay) which made the hotel Tralala even better.  Our expectations were low- we figured a stale croissant or something of the like.  But to our sweet surprise, the breakfast was fabulous.  I had tea, a croissant with jelly, a croissant with nutella (yes, two), yogurt and a soft boiled egg. I couldn't even go for a little hot chocolate I was so full.  Dana had herself ham, cheese, croissant, coffee and bread.  We got our moneys worth. 

We had gotten up early so we could hit up the Castle Chillon.  We hiked down the hill, found us a bus and got dropped off at the castle, only to find out it didn't open til 10am (it was now 8:45).  So we tooled around outside the castle and took some pics.  Dana thought I should be taking more pictures of the mountains (she forgot her camera).  Frankly I think more than one mountain shot is kinda boring.  Dana also later suggested I take a picture of a dog on the escalator.  Clearly she has an artistic eye. Sooo then we decided to walk back to the city along the water.  Well worth it- we kept passing some figures made out of grass or branches.  Very cute. Weird. But cute. Before we jumped on our train we grabbed some stuff for lunch at the Coop that had closed early the night before.  This time the train ride was a bit less exciting.  We weren't traveling through the mountains. But we arrived at Yberdon las Baines nonetheless. At the station we found a posted map, took a look and figured out where to go.  Dana had been about three months ago when she was new to Switzerland and I believe I have an excellent sense of direction, so we figured we'd find the baths easily.  Well, not so much.  A few wrong turns and we were lost.  But I have to say each time we've been lost so far, we make a lucky turn and see a sign. 

Sure enough we found our way to the thermal baths- which come from underground springs.  We quickly ate our lunches outside (Dana had salad with cheese and ham, I had a curry chicken sandwich). We decided to splurge at the entrance and get the pass that allowed us upstairs to an additional room.  In the baths, the locker room was communal with these funny changing rooms.  You had to put the bench down for the doors to clothes.  Weird.  We changed in to our bathing suits, shoved our bags into lockers and headed to the first bath.  I was a little skeeved out because we didn't bring any flipflops.  But remember, we were adventurers. 

The first bath was outdoors and bubbly. Not hot tub bubbly but bubbly nonetheless.  It was pretty cool being outside in a hot bath.  Dana had been there before so she knew what each one was like- I was totally impatient and wanted to see what the next one was like super fast.  The second bath was also outdoors- with some more powerful jets- still not quite like a hot tub though.  This one was just a bit too cool for me, so I left Dana behind to explore bath #3 which was indoors.  It was nice to warm up there and Dana came to find me.  Finally (thanks to my impatience- about half hour into our stay) we headed to the upstairs. There we found a small bubbly pool outside on the room- offering somewhat of a view.  The last pool was inside and called the Japanese bath.  It was the hottest and not bubbly.  Recommended stay: 5 min.  Dana had her eye on the clock the whole time, making sure we did not overstay, but I would have been content to stay in there longer.  But there was more to try.  We hit up the steam room next- with eucalyptus. We decided on the women only steam room.  There were two other co-ed ones and co-ed saunas, but as the signs said, "nudity is recommended in the saunas and steam rooms, but not in the Japanese bath, the pool outside or in the solarium."  Needless to say, I saw a lot of sausage just as people came in and out of the saunas and steam rooms.  I didn't want to be sitting next to it.  Ew.  In the ladies steam room we had some naked buddies, including one woman who was scrubbing herself down with some sort of exfoliator- but she was doing it so vigorously and huffing and puffing so much, we wondered if something more was going on.  I wouldn't have been surprised- there were a lot of couples at the baths, making out in all the pools an doing who know what else.  PDA seems to be a way of life here.  

We stayed at the baths for a few hours, making the circuit between the pools, letting our hands get pruney, staying mostly upstairs (totally worth the extra $10 we paid for the privilege).  We then changed back and headed back to the train station- this time with a map in hand, that we picked up at a nearby hotel when we were looking for the entrance to the baths.    Made the train without any problems and had the rest of our lunch (fruit, sodas, chocolate- of course).  We shared our seat with a business man of some sort, while this woman next to us took up four seats with her bags and jacket.  Obnoxious.

Back at Dana's at long last, we settled in for the night.  I caught up on blogging as Dana did some administrative stuff for school on the computer.  Dana then cooked me a yummy dinner of tortellini, salad and cheese.  We were even brave enough to try a little red wine again.  In the kitchen I met her friends Siobhan (from England) and Maurizio (from Italy) who are dating and quite cute together.  Dana got me a cot from the Foyer office, which turned out to be a bit broken- with the bed tilted down.  So I just popped the mattress on the floor, which worked out quite well overall. And we slept.

                                         

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Day_4_A_new_me_Yberdon_las_Bai.zip (14723 KB)

Waking up at 8am was painful.  The alarm went off three times until I knocked it on the floor.  My head pounded, my belly ached. I was tired.  I guess the combo of very little sleep/jet lag, plus altitude, plus too little hydration, plus mixing beer and wine was quite the force.  But I was a trooper.  Dana too had had a rough night- she told me she booted in her friend's sink and had to clean in up (it then clogged) before we left.  And good morning to you too!  We quickly packed and headed to the train station. On the way there Dana realized she forgot the papers with all the train times and the hotel info. Crucial decision: go back and get them and take the next train or suck it up, have a little adventure and get lost along the way.  At that moment we became adventurers (as much as two type A people in a foreign country can be).  We then began to sprint to the train believing we were about to miss it, only to arrive with 10 minutes to spare. We grabbed some croissants (pan au chocolat for Dana, and a croissant and a pan au chocolat for me- I had a feeling I'd need both. The croissant for now- the pan for later)

The train was quite nice- beats US transportation for sure.  The countryside was gorgeous (or so Dana told me- I could barely lift my head).  I took that opportunity to vomit in the train bathroom.  Awesome.  Nausea got better. Headache not so much.  At some point we switched trains, this one a little one- a sort of toot-toot train (that really said "toot-toot") that wound us up the mountains.  At this point I pulled out a can of coke from my plane ride the other day- though calling it a can was overstating- it was the size of a shot glass.  But the carbonation did me good.  I made it through this train ride vomit free and actually enjoyed the scenery.  This was the Switzerland I pictured! 

We arrived at Gruyeres around 11.  In front of us loomed a path up a steep hill. I bought me soda and this time tried to keep the pan au chocolat down (I knew I bought two for a reason!).  Success! After climbing the steep and very icy path we entered the castle town of Gruyeres- very Swiss.  We walked up to the castle and took the tour, stopping for some pics of amazing views.  The tour included a movie about the history of the town, which was actually pretty interesting. After our bout of history we decided it was time for lunch- and what does one eat in Gruyeres- Fondue!  We had fondue with mushrooms served with boiled potatoes and bread.  We knew that fondue was supposed to be eaten with wine.  We passed though.  Then we hit up the Griger museum.  H.R. Griger was an "artist" who designed the scenery and the characters and concepts for several movies like Alien and Species.  The museum consisted of many drawings from those movies and many other drawings- which is "his unique brand of grotesque art, sexualized surrealist visions of machine-like humanoids, nightmarish cityscapes and fantasy-porn gynecological obsessions" (as our guidebook says).  I have to quote the guidebook, because I don't know what else to say.  This man had a serious problem with woman.  All his drawings were in some way very sexually intertwined women.  And the museum even had his own personal collection- which included some really sick, dark stuff.  My vagina hurt just looking at it.  After being scarred by the museum we headed down the steep path to the cheese shop, where we took an audio tour led by Cherry the cow, who took us through the history and process of cheese-making.  We also caught a live demonstration of cheese making by hand.  Dana and I got to taste curds and whey!

We then dragged ourselves to the train and headed to Montreux. Again the scenery was amazing- winding through mountains on a toot-toot train!  I couldn't believe how much better I was feeling.  Hangover be gone!  So far our adventurer status had been easy to maintain.  Here we hit our first difficulty.  We didn't exactly have the address of the hotel, but after questioning a few people, we seemed to find our way in the right direction (taking a little detour, thanks to me, thinking I could understand the city).  Dana continued to impress me with her French.  She thinks she doesn't speak any, but from my point of view (who can only say please, thank you, and excuse me), she sounded brilliant!  We eventually found some signs that pointed us towards hotel Tralala, up quite a hill.  Man, Switzerland has got some hills.  Finally we made it and checked into this super hip-modern hotel based on music.  There were all these big photos of famous musicians playing, plastered on the walls of this white and red themed hotel.  The room was great- the beds felt comfy and we had Sting singing over us at the head of the bed.  Once we set ourselves down, I decided I needed to eat a little something.  Unfortunately the guy at the front desk told us the only places open (apparently on Sundays, Switzerland shits down.) were back down the big hill near the train station. Ugh.  So we schlepped on down only to see the Coop (grocery store) close before our eyes.  We eventually found another small grocery and got us some sandwiches (salmon for Dana, bacon and egg for me) and pears.  We trekked back up the hill ate our food, showered under the most brilliant shower head, watched some CNN and konked out at 9:30.

                                   

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Day_3_Minibreak_Gruyeres-_Mont.zip (9971 KB)