29 April 2010

Here Come the Irish, of Notre Dame!

Being part of the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame, I couldn't possibly miss the opportunity to go to Ireland. Several other Domers had the same thought, so we all headed up to Dublin the same weekend. Even better, we were meeting many of the students from the two ND-Dublin programs, so it was an explosion of all things Notre Dame, er, Irish.

Dublin was smaller than I pictured a national capital, but it was very clean and well organized (at least, from my Italian point of view). One of the quirks of walking around Ireland is, however, getting used to cars on the wrong (left) side of the road. All the intersections have painted instructions on the street, telling you whether to look right or left. Very helpful.
It seems so cliche, but so much of Ireland looks like the postcards. At least in springtime, when the fields are that rich Emerald green and the flowers in St. Stephen's Green are in full bloom and the sun is shining on the blue-grey waters of the Atlantic.


I stayed with my friend Anna at Trinity College, which was complete with both a rugby and cricket pitch. (Pitch = field, for those of you who, like me, are not up on your northern European sports.) Trinity also houses the Book of Kells, an illuminated copy of the four gospels dating back to the early Middle Ages. I give it two thumbs up!

Chelsea, Anna, Isaac, me, and Coleen hanging out with none other than Molly Malone on Grafton Street.

With flowers like these, no wonder Irish eyes are smiling!

After a few days in the Dub, I bused over to Western Ireland, to Galway, with Julie and her friend Dani. Galway is Ireland's fourth-largest city, but I believe we saw all of it within our first hour or two in the city. That is not to demean it in any way, however, because it is an absolutely lovely seaside city. Galway is known for having lots of traditional Irish music, which we were able to hear that night.

The next day we made the excellent decision to go on a day tour of the Burren Hills and the Cliffs of Moher. Driving through the Irish countryside on a sunny Spring day is the stuff of dreams. My favorite stop on the tour was, of course, the Cliffs of Moher. There is this sign (seen two photos below) that tells you not to walk beyond this certain point, but I promise you that if you stay behind the fences, you'll miss out. That being said, be careful! because there is nothing between you and falling.


Galway is where the Claddagh tradition started, and you can see the symbol all over the city, especially in the section bearing the name of the ring.


Julie and I, at the EDGE OF THE WORLD!

Back in Dublin for a bit longer, I took a half-hour DART ride to Howth, and spent a few hours walking along the cliffs covered with flowers and fog.

Ireland was a grand success, even if I never did find that leprechaun. Or that pot of gold...

Signed,
the Sengenblogger

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