Well, it’s been up and down. After finishing my blog entry last night and eating the last of my filched-from-work snacks for dinner (when I get around to posting photos, you’ll see that I haven’t had a proper meal since…. Well, it depends how you define proper meals; possibly since Sunday) I went to the pub where the Literary Pub Crawl was to begin. It was a very good tour; it began with an introduction to the literary heritage of Ireland and an excerpt from Waiting for Godot I hadn’t realized it, but Samuel Beckett is Irish) and continued with three more pubs alternated with (outdoor) discussion of Oscar Wilde, James Joyce and other Irish writers as well as excerpts from the work. The tour guides were really excellent; they are professional actors and very knowledgeable on the subject matter. I didn’t have anything to drink at any of the pubs because I was already feeling so knocked-about, but it was interesting to see all the different places. One of the people on the tour had also been on the historical walking tour in the morning, and we got to talking – he was a law student from Moscow doing a summer-long tour of Europe to participate in debate competitions. As I was leaving the final pub to go back to the hostel, one of the tour guides suggested I arrange a future meeting with “[my] friend from Moscow” because “stranger things have happened”. I pointed out that (aside from the fact that I’m pretty sure neither of us was interested in such “things”) he lives in, you know, Moscow, and also is probably a decade younger than me, and both tour guides were quite surprised to learn that I am not, in fact, 22. Of course I know I look young, particularly when I’m tired, but these days I mostly meet people who know that I’m not a college student, and my conception of myself has evolved so much in the last five years that it’s surprising to realize that I still register (at least to middle-aged men) as very nearly a child.
That was the up bit. The down bit started in the middle of the night, when I was awoken by the noise of the bars outside and the snoring roommate inside and kept awake for, I don’t know, somewhere between one and two hours. This was much-needed sleep that I lost, but worse was the fact that I couldn’t really entertain myself, since my netbook was in my locker outside and turning on a light while other people are sleeping is not the done thing. Also, I was starving; I retrieved and ate the “flapjack” I bought yesterday – that was the last of my stockpiled food, and events like last night are one of the reasons I stockpile – and tried not to feel too sorry for myself. I thought of two of the couples on the literary tour; they must have been in their late twenties, both newlyweds, with about eight brain cells among the four of them (this is an unfair characterization, I suppose, as one of the couples seemed to possess about four brain cells each, while the other couple clearly had none). They chattered away merrily while we waited for the tour to begin, mostly about their weddings (one of the couples was on their honeymoon; the other, or at least its female half, was just wedding-obsessed) and a bit about their travels. I was certain that neither of these couples, in their proper hotel rooms, was having trouble sleeping, or at least if they were, they were having trouble sleeping in a proper room. Of course, I told myself, hotel rooms in Europe are not, in my experience, significantly less depressing – or any more spacious, per person – than hostel rooms.
At some point I fell asleep again and didn’t wake up until morning (good). I showered – there was hot water (good), and although I didn’t have a towel and the hostel people didn’t have one to rent to me (bad), it was fairly warm so I was able to get cleanish and dryish without too much fuss (good). I had a bit of breakfast (good). I discovered that I had forgotten half the cord for my camera (bad, but could have been worse – it was the outlet half, not the camera half, so I can still charge by connecting to my computer, possibly, or possibly with the plug half of the computer adaptor) and had been under a misapprehension about the outlets available in Ireland and brought the wrong adaptor (bad, but could have been worse – the hostel sold me a universal adaptor). I also discovered that I could get a bus instead of a train to Cork, which would take more time – unclear how much more time, maybe an hour?) and cost a great deal less money (13E rather than 60E, which seems worth it). I had to hightail it to the bus station, though, since there are only buses every two hours. I made it just in the nick of time (very good; the train station is all the way across town so I might have been stuck for two hours if I’d missed the bus) but as I was putting my bag under the bus I realized that one of the compartments was open. It wasn’t the main one, where I have all my clothes and sundries or one of the smaller ones where I have shoes and lotions. It was the second-to-main one, where I put all my biking gear. It’s unclear what, if anything, fell out – I didn’t have time to look, and I don’t even recall how far open the compartment was, definitely significantly. This could be very, very bad – my biking shoes and toe clips were in there, which might be hard to replace here and would certainly be expensive ($200, or more, for both); also my biking shorts, brand-new camelback, and bike helmet – in other words, all the expensive and/or difficult-to-replace-while-traveling stuff is in this compartment, so this is probably the worst compartment to lose something from, since clothe and toiletries are comparatively disposable. So I could have really screwed myself over here, simply by being in a rush and forgetting to check all the compartments of the bag. It is also possible that nothing fell out; if something heavy or loud had fallen, it is to be hoped that I would have heard it, or that someone walking behind me would have seen and told me. My blue vest was sort of poking out when I discovered; this is encouraging because it is one of the last things I put in the compartment (although also lightweight and friction, which means less likely to fall out). The nature of the compartment is such that I’m most worried about narrow things, particularly the camelback and the pedals. I suppose there’s no point in worrying about it too much, since I can do exactly nothing about it until I get to Cork.
Which is where I’m on my way to now. We’re driving through countryside; it seems to be not exactly woods and not exactly farmland. Pastureland, maybe? Just now I see a field with grazing animals – cows or sheep. Very Britishly, there have been lots of walkers, on the road (when we’re not on highways) and even in the fields. The fields are much smaller than American fields, too, and have trees or shrubs as borders.
One thing I’ve noticed here is how many other languages, besides English and Irish, I see. Everything is in English, of course, and everything official is also in Irish - apparently only the very old and the very well-off speak it now – but there are also bits of German and French and everything else. I wonder if this is a European thing, with all the countries being so close together. I didn’t notice it in France, but they’re defensive of their language there and frequently signage isn’t even in English. I noticed it a bit in Iceland, but not as much, and thought it was because of the prominence of the tourist industry. I don’t recall noticing it at all in Germany.
Sleepy, and also hungry. Should have had more breakfast in the hostel, but I didn’t really like the place and felt uncomfortable there. Hostels are always physically uncomfortable, but the attitude of the management and guests makes a big difference in how they feel. At this one, the management seemed largely contemptuous of the foreignness and uncoolness of the guests, and the guests seemed obnoxious and aggressive. Perhaps, though, this is just that I’ve gotten too old and remain too uncool for such places. I think Cork will be better, if only because it’s a smaller city. There should be less street noise, hopefully less crowding. I’m looking forward to relaxing for the day and a half after I get there (assuming I don’t have to shop for new bike supplies…) – and also to the rest stop we’re supposed to make in a while, when I’ll be able to get some kind of snack.
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