Ireland Update

I now know why Irish people are so damn pasty. It’s never nice out! Back in January I laughed at all of you people in Chicago for suffer through -20 degree weather and two feet of snow while I had, if not good weather, bearable weather of cloudy, rainy days around 50 degrees. Well, its now beautiful back home, but exactly the same here, if not worse. I haven’t seen the sun in a week. As I walked to campus this morning, I noticed everyone still wore long pants and had jackets on. Some people still had hats on. It is crazy!
The weather here is like an overly-emotional drunk girl. Things will be beautiful outside and everyone will be having a great time until suddenly, for no apparent reason, the water works start flowing and the moment is ruined. All of this is topped by a constant wind that makes it feel ten degrees cooler. It is relentless. I can’t imagine what it will be like to play golf right on the ocean when my pops comes here next week. I am just praying for a little mercy from the golf gods.
In other news, Irish guys are relentless when it comes to getting girls. By studying in an English speaking country I have had the opportunity to make friends with locals, which I have done. It is laughable to see these guys in action. They truly have the gift of gab. No matter how ugly or how old they are, an Irish guy will go up to a girl they find attractive and talk to them until the cows come home. Even if the girl is obviously not having it, they keep going (that may be because they’re usually too drunk to pick up on social cues.) It reminds me of a filibuster in congress. They just keep going and going until the girl either runs away or in to their arms. In fact, the only reason why we have Irish friends is because we met them through the girls we know. I’m not kidding when I say every American girl I know either has or has had an Irish boyfriend while here. They love American chicks, even the not-so-good-looking ones. Unfortunately, the Irish girls aren’t as enthusiastic about chasing down American guys but I give it my best try to act Irish.

Sunday at the Bull Fights

Last Sunday I spent my last day I Barcelona at a bull fight. I have never been to one before and I wanted to see what it was like. It seems to be a dying tradition and I don’t know if I will ever have a chance to see one again. Barcelona is in Catalonia, a region in the northwest corner of Spain not known for bull fights. In fact, most citizens are against the fights citing animal cruelty as the reason why but there is still a large enough group of supporters to keep the fights going.
I didn’t go to watch animals die. I went to experience the culture and to feel the atmosphere I have read about in books like Fiesta which talks about the tradition and skill that is involved with bull fighting. I don’t know much about bull fighting, but I know I didn’t see what I came for. It was a cloudy day and threatening to rain so not many people showed up. The stadium was a large ring but only about a fifth was occupied split between Spaniards and tourists.


The Stadium

The fights are split by three matadors and they each get two bulls, so six overall. They don’t just come out straight away to face the bulls however; there is a process. First they tire the bulls out. The bull comes storming into the ring with all the energy you expect and runs around the ring trying to gorge a series of matadors who call them over before jumping behind a barrier just before the bull can get them. Then the bull rushes across the ring, only to be thwarted again. Next two horses come out covered in armor and blinds with men on top with long spears. The bull charges the horses constantly trying to throw the horse over while the man on top drives the spear in to the bulls back. Next three men come out with two swords each and when the bull comes at them, the men jump aside and stick the bulls with the swords in the back. After all of this, the main matadors come out and lead the bulls around with their capes, trying to get the bulls as close to them as possible. This is where the glamour of the sport is supposed to be. When the bull is worn down enough and the crowd is ready for the kill, the matador drives a sword into the bulls back above the neck, thus killing it, or at least that is what’s supposed to happen. A good matador kills the bull in one try but none of the matadors I saw did this. I don’t think they were very good matadors. In fact, I was kind of rooting for the bulls.

OLE!

Soon after the show started it started pouring. Everyone moved up under cover to watch so the place looked empty. There weren’t enough people there to create the buzz of energy I came to see and I was surrounded by Americans who had no clue what was going on. The bulls never won and it always ended the same way. My friends had been to a fight in Madrid and loved it. They had it all. The place was packed, the crowd went wild and the bull gorged the shit out of some dude. That is what I kind of wanted to see but didn’t.
When the bull dies two donkeys come out to drag the dead animal away. After one of the bulls I went downstairs to see what they did with it. I found the garage they bring them to by following the blood and soon a lifeless cow was dragged past me by its hind leg. The butchers brought it in to a garage where there were the three previous bulls hanging now without heads or skin. At least they use the animals for something useful afterwards. One of the butchers tried selling us a horn for ten Euro but I didn’t think it would pass through security in my carry-on bag so I didn’t buy it.
The fight didn’t live up to my expectations but I am glad I saw it. I actually thought it would be more gruesome then it actually was. I had heard stories of blood everywhere and final death screams by the animal but I didn’t see any of that. We stayed for five of the six bulls because the people I was with were bored. I didn’t really mind leaving. A couple hours later after 19 days on the road I boarded a plane bound for Ireland and now I am back. Time for finals.

Go get him!

St. George's Day

Late Wednesday night I left Italy and got in to Barcelona, one of the coolest cities I have been to. I visited Spain five years ago with my family and absolutely loved it. This time I am here for a shorter period and will be staying within Barcelona, but I am excited to be back. Things are just different in Spain. For instance, I didn't get to my friends apartment until midnight but that didn't mean we weren't going out. In Spain it is unusual to go out partying for the night before 1:00 or 2:00 a.m. I'm a bit of a night hawk and love to stay up until the early hours of the morning so am excited to be here. We left the club at 5:00 a.m. and the party was still bumping when we left. This is a crazy town.
Yesterday was St. George's Day, the Spanish version of Valentines Day. St. George's Day is unlike the commercialized American version of the holiday though, and in my opinion, is way cooler. Instead of lavish gifts and chocolates and cards and such, guys only get the girls a rose or two, and it is only for their true sweetheart. In return, the girls buy their man a book. Maybe I'm just biased because I love books, but this version of the holiday seems much more manageable on the wallet and more personable to a significant other.
As I strolled down the La Rambla, the main vein of the city that runs down to the Mediterranean with vendors and markets of all kinds along the way, there were countless rose vendors, many of which are organizations raising money for a cause, as well as huge temporary outdoor book stands. All books are 10% off as well so everyone in the city had something to be excited about. I was looking for a place with English books but came up short.
The weather is beautiful so I am going to go enjoy the day. Nothing like 80 degree weather.

Whirwind around Italy

This trip I am on is so freaking cool. Let me just explain my last few days to you. Three days ago I wandered through the Vatican and stared at the Sistine Chapel, two days ago I strolled through the streets of Venice and drank beers on the steps of a canal watching Gondolas pass by, yesterday I lay on the beach of a sleepy mountain side beach town and swam in the Tyranian Sea, today I am hiking the Cinque Terre, and tomorrow I will be snowboarding in the ALpes. I cant imagine a cooler more diverse trip. I have had awesome experiences with friends and have met so many cool, inviting people along the way. I have to pinch myself daily just to know that this is all real. How did I get so lucky to stumble upon this life I am living?
I will elaborate on my trip to Rome and Venice later because it is impossible to reflect on it when I have so much beauty in front of me right now, but let me just say, the Sistine Chapel was one of the coolest things I have seen in my life. I stood directly under Michelangelo's painting of God touching Adams finger and slowly spun in a circle, completely humbled by its beauty. It truly is a masterpiece. This whole trip I have been humbled in the same way and inspired by the excellence of it all. More about that later though.
By the way, the Cinque Terre is a series of five cliff side beach towns only accessible on foot or by train. It is labeled as a world landmark because of it's beauty and uniqueness and I am excited to see it.
On another note, my trusty Doc Martens, my favorite shoes in the world are starting to wear down! I have a hole in the heel and now my feet get wet when it rains. So sad.
I cant run spell check on this because it is Italy and the computers don't understand English so forgive me for the numerous spelling errors and messed up words. When I get back in a few days I will clean it up. Ciao!

Firenze

Last night my friends and I got into Rome but before that we spent a couple days in Florence. Florence is a beautiful town. Situated on the River Arno, it was the heart of the Italian Renaissance so everywhere you go there is beautiful artwork to admire. My time abroad has sparked an interest in art and Florence has an abundance of pieces in every corner of town. Maybe my favorite place was a garden the Medici family built called the Biblio gardens. It is a huge area with tall shady trees, dust paths, numerous grand fountains and statues all over the place. The statues had a neglected beauty about them I liked. Although hundreds of years old and now covered in moss with chips and cracks, it is still easy to appreciate the skill and effort required to create such a beautiful thing.
The only negative I can think of about Florence was the timing of my trip. Call me stupid, but I totally forgot I was visiting t he week of Easter which meant the town was overrun with tourists. Catholics in Italy during Easter, who would have thunk it. THe lines for ev erything were unbearable and finding a hotel room was impossible. For what I got in return, the amount I payed each night should be illegal. Still, it was awesome.
On Easter morning we woke up and watched a parade go through the town and then got on a train to Pisa to see the famous tower. I grew up hearing and seeing pictures of the Leaning Tower of Pisa but to see it was something special. That tower leans a lot! It was so cool to see with my own eyes. There isnt much to do in Pisa but we enjoyed our day immensley. We lounged in the grass soaking up the sun and laughed at people making ridiculous poses making it look like they were holding the tower up. It was a perfect way to spend Easter. My internet time is about to be up. Got to run!

Milano

Italy is beautiful! I got to Milan last night and have spent the day walking around this beautiful city. The sun is shining bright and it is a beautiful 70 degree day. This morning I went to Del Duomo Di Milano which is one of the most beautiful cathedrals I have ever seen. Only St. Peters is bigger in the whole world and I was able to climb over 200 stairs to the roof to get a great panoramic view of the city. The streets are packed with people shopping, eating, and aimlessly strolling while enjoying the day.
Last night after many hours traveling I finally found my hotel and needed a break. I wandered the streets and found a tiny cafe where Italian kids were hanging out at. I ordered a Pizza margarita and a huge beer and sat outside watching beautiful Italian girls ride by on Vespas and taking in the architecture. There are leaves on the all the trees and flowers in most windows. It was a beautiful night and I was in heaven. It was so nice I had another beer.
As awesome as it is here, I was told it is nothing compared to other spots in Italy so in an hour I am taking a train to Florence to visit a friend and get to know the city that was the epicenter of the Reniscance. It is going to be awesome.
It is my spring break and I have the whole month of April off. I am in Italy until the 23 and then I will be in Madrid until the 27. I have a lot of time to see things so if anyone who reads this have suggestions on must see places please do not be afraid to let me know. Caoi! (I think that is how it is spelled...)

My Momma Came to Ireland

Me and a lamb... kind of stupid.

Over the past couple of days I have been traveling across Ireland with my mom, and two family friends. My brother Dan was supposed to come with but he ran in to some troubles with that. Ask Sheila Javor what happened with that one… Not only was it awesome to see my mom around the half way point of this trip I am on, having them around was also beneficial because I had access to a car which made travelling much faster than on a bus or by hitchhiking. Besides a few scary situations while adjusting to driving on the opposite side of the road, the ladies did a great job driving.

Me in 2009

Sheila in 1987

We saw a ton of things. I was keeping track, and we visited or stayed in at least 15 different towns. Thinking back on it, I can hardly remember what we did just a week ago but the coolest thing I saw was Blarney Castle. Although it is Mecca for tourists visiting Ireland, it was delightfully cheesy and very beautiful. From the top of the medieval castle there are awesome views of the land around and the building itself is everything you think of when going to such a place. I was surprised at how far I actually had to lean over the wall to kiss the Blarney Stone. It was a long way down. I was told by some Irish friends that the locals like to get drunk and sneak into the castle at night to pee on the stone. I think they were joking but I still had it in the back of my mind when kissing it. Regardless of this nasty fact, people have been visiting the stone for over 200 years and it supposedly gives you “the gift of gab.” That is a whole lot of lips in one spot and it has turned the spot black.

One of the people to kiss the stone before me was my mom in 1987. Although she has an intense fear of heights, back in the day she got over her fears and kissed the stone. That was during her trip to Europe when she was my age. She has great memories of that time in her life and it was fun to hear her relive some of the memories. Hopefully in 21 years I will have equally great feelings about my time here. I’m pretty sure I will. If anyone else wants to come visit be my guest- just don’t forget to bring my golf clubs.

My mom and I at Blarney Castle.