Invading Dublin!
Door: Sarajan Graanoogst
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Sarajan
05 April 2014 | Verenigd Koninkrijk, Cardiff
Part 1 the Journey to and arrival in Dublin
My preparation for the journey to Dublin with Erasmus organized by the travel organization Invasion started about two days before we actually had to go. I picked out the clothes I would need and supplies for on the road since none would be provided to us. When the fated Friday (March 21) arrived I was pumped and ready to go. The bus left at 07.00 from the front of the Students Union building and I had to be there at 6.40, so naturally I had set my alarm at around a 5.45 just to make sure I’d be there on time.
A ten minute walk saw me in front of the bus, our “luxury coach” (that, as we would find out through our discomfort, did not have any form of heating). When we left from the Union about 20 people had joined. The first few hours on the bus were pretty quiet. People sat in groups of two, three and at most four with the odd singles in between. I estimated that there would not be much talking during the first few hours which was the main reason for me to bring some review work with me. As it turns out my assumption that the majority of the people on the bus would be catching Z’s during the first few hours was correct and I spent the time reviewing a bit of Time Series and Forecasting. However as we were leaving Cardiff City I found myself paying more attention to the landscape gliding by than the stack of papers in my hands. I decided to quickly rush through the notes and start taking my own notes about this journey and the beautiful landscape of Central Wales.
We traveled through a never boring, ever fascinating countryside (it turns out the scenic route that I missed on the trip to Bangor was the very same we were riding that day). The terrain alternated between forested hills, sparsely-grown mountainsides, grass-covered hills fields inhabited by legions of sheep and rough, barren hills and mountains. Some of the peaks were shrouded in mist or clouds, making me wonder how high those peaks are and I made a mental note to look that up when I had the time. Since March is apparently not yet the middle of spring the deciduous trees were still barren. The only green in the countryside came from the coniferous trees, moss and shrubbery. The picturesque landscape was decorated by old, sometimes even ancient looking walls and bridges and the odd medieval castle and church. We also passed lots of farms and cottages outside of small towns that probably designated the living-quarters of the owners of the herds of sheep. The whole scene was completed by the streams that cut through the hills and wound their way to the fields where they undoubtedly provided irrigation for the fields. Some of those streams looked like the typical mountain stream with the occasional rapids that made them more interesting to look at. Most of the houses we (the people awake) saw on the way were built with asymmetric rocks that made them seem old. In my opinion this gave them character.
After we made our first pit stop in the middle of nowhere (before we left it was mentioned we would have a stop on the way so people could take a bathroom break and apparently they meant using the toilet of the bus) most people had begun waking up and from there on the journey became more lively. As we drove on under a very pleasant sun, warming the lucky ones sitting on the right side of the bus behind the windows, voices in several languages made it obvious that there were several different nationalities on the bus. There were Italian, Spanish, French, Swedish, German and English people on board. Including me, that meant that there were at least 6 Nationalities on board. The row in front of me was inhabited by Spanish girls, and while I am writing this rapid Spanish conversation is going back and forth. It makes me wonder how much mingling will occur during this trip. Would the students mix and play nice or would there solely be socializing in small groups of nationalities. So far I have not witnessed people making friends. They seemed to stick in their own groups, although there was some polite conversation during the stop (I met Richard, from France and Martina from Germany).
The further we progressed in the northerly direction the more usual it became to see lakes, wider rivers and sometimes even bays in the distance. It clearly meant that we were getting closer to the coast and Holyhead (pronounced Hollyhead instead of holy head) where we take the ferry to Dublin.
When we reached the port we once again had a short break before the officials of the ferry ushered us all onwards. It was time to board the huge vessel. As soon as we were at the upper levels I could see that the ferry was more comfortable than the one I took from the port of Piraeus in Greece to Heraclion on Crete. And the journey was much more comfortable as well. I made the acquaintance of some more fellow “Invaders” (Chebby, Christina and Lybia from Spain a few girls from France), slept a bit and wrote a bit. I also had lunch on the deck and browsed a few of the shops.
After arriving at the youth hostel in Dublin I was beginning to wonder where I spent my ₤125 on. The bus had not been as luxurious as promised, we stayed at a youth hostel and I remember not paying a hefty fee for the ferry trip from the mainland of Greece to Crete which took twice as much time and additionally we had to take care of food ourselves.
As soon as I had dumped my stuff on my (shared) room I went to scout for dinner options and folders and flyers with info on “What to see in Dublin”. I quickly introduced myself into a group that would go out to buy ingredients for nice pasta. Martina and I joined Seb (Sebastian), Paul and Emily and went into town to hunt for a store with the required ingredients. Since Ireland is a EU-country that does use the euro I had to get my hands on euros and quickly. While we were out there we saw a loud crowd of men walking making their way through the streets. They were as a pack of mad beasts. Palpable waves of malice and threat rolled of off them and it was obvious that this crowd was out for trouble. Another sure sign were the police agents following the crowd at a respectable distance on bikes. When we were in a store buying supplies a man told us in a very animated fashion how that crowd had thrown in a hotel window and were making trouble further on in the street. They were an angry pack of hooligans and would not go home quietly. When we had bought all we needed we decided to go home swiftly without detours. Neither of us wanted to meet the hooligans. However we need not have worried. As soon as we stepped out of the store we saw police cars riding by with crowded back seats. The hooligans would spend their night cooling off in an Irish cell.
Dinner was simply lovely (we had to pay guarantee money to get pots and pans, for the rooms as well by the way) and afterwards we decided to go into town in search of an Irish pub with live music. Two girls decided to tag along: Josephine from Sweden and Svia from Germany. We landed in a pub on the O’Connel street a few hundred meters from the (three years too late to be the Millennium) Spire. We were greeted with John Denver’s “Country Roads” and I knew that that was to be the pub we would stay in until it was time to catch some sleep. While enjoying an Irish Stout (the others lads had Guinness and the lasses had Cider or juice) we listened to the cover artists acoustic versions of Irish folk songs, Zombie of the Cranberries, Annie’s Song (once again John Denver), Mrs. Robinson from Simon and Garfunkel and many other great songs and discussed our plans for tomorrow. Most wanted to visit the Guinness store house which seemed interesting to me as well. Another point on their list was the Kilmainham Gaol. The prison where the Easter Rising (an Irish rebellion against the English) leaders had been imprisoned. I decided not to see that as in my opinion prisons are rather depressing. If it was a prison where some world-renowned leader had been imprisoned like “Robben island” I would gladly make an exception, but in this case I would rather spend my time exploring Dublin with the free tour Martina decided to go on (it was her idea). So after a great time in the pub we decided to call it a night. The organization had said something about a “partybus” coming by to pick people up who wanted to party, but we weren’t interested as we wanted to get an early start tomorrow and were not interested in paying ₤10 for a night on the town where drinks were not included. So it was off to bed.
In the next installment I will narrate my tour through Dublin and my very first pub crawl.
My preparation for the journey to Dublin with Erasmus organized by the travel organization Invasion started about two days before we actually had to go. I picked out the clothes I would need and supplies for on the road since none would be provided to us. When the fated Friday (March 21) arrived I was pumped and ready to go. The bus left at 07.00 from the front of the Students Union building and I had to be there at 6.40, so naturally I had set my alarm at around a 5.45 just to make sure I’d be there on time.
A ten minute walk saw me in front of the bus, our “luxury coach” (that, as we would find out through our discomfort, did not have any form of heating). When we left from the Union about 20 people had joined. The first few hours on the bus were pretty quiet. People sat in groups of two, three and at most four with the odd singles in between. I estimated that there would not be much talking during the first few hours which was the main reason for me to bring some review work with me. As it turns out my assumption that the majority of the people on the bus would be catching Z’s during the first few hours was correct and I spent the time reviewing a bit of Time Series and Forecasting. However as we were leaving Cardiff City I found myself paying more attention to the landscape gliding by than the stack of papers in my hands. I decided to quickly rush through the notes and start taking my own notes about this journey and the beautiful landscape of Central Wales.
We traveled through a never boring, ever fascinating countryside (it turns out the scenic route that I missed on the trip to Bangor was the very same we were riding that day). The terrain alternated between forested hills, sparsely-grown mountainsides, grass-covered hills fields inhabited by legions of sheep and rough, barren hills and mountains. Some of the peaks were shrouded in mist or clouds, making me wonder how high those peaks are and I made a mental note to look that up when I had the time. Since March is apparently not yet the middle of spring the deciduous trees were still barren. The only green in the countryside came from the coniferous trees, moss and shrubbery. The picturesque landscape was decorated by old, sometimes even ancient looking walls and bridges and the odd medieval castle and church. We also passed lots of farms and cottages outside of small towns that probably designated the living-quarters of the owners of the herds of sheep. The whole scene was completed by the streams that cut through the hills and wound their way to the fields where they undoubtedly provided irrigation for the fields. Some of those streams looked like the typical mountain stream with the occasional rapids that made them more interesting to look at. Most of the houses we (the people awake) saw on the way were built with asymmetric rocks that made them seem old. In my opinion this gave them character.
After we made our first pit stop in the middle of nowhere (before we left it was mentioned we would have a stop on the way so people could take a bathroom break and apparently they meant using the toilet of the bus) most people had begun waking up and from there on the journey became more lively. As we drove on under a very pleasant sun, warming the lucky ones sitting on the right side of the bus behind the windows, voices in several languages made it obvious that there were several different nationalities on the bus. There were Italian, Spanish, French, Swedish, German and English people on board. Including me, that meant that there were at least 6 Nationalities on board. The row in front of me was inhabited by Spanish girls, and while I am writing this rapid Spanish conversation is going back and forth. It makes me wonder how much mingling will occur during this trip. Would the students mix and play nice or would there solely be socializing in small groups of nationalities. So far I have not witnessed people making friends. They seemed to stick in their own groups, although there was some polite conversation during the stop (I met Richard, from France and Martina from Germany).
The further we progressed in the northerly direction the more usual it became to see lakes, wider rivers and sometimes even bays in the distance. It clearly meant that we were getting closer to the coast and Holyhead (pronounced Hollyhead instead of holy head) where we take the ferry to Dublin.
When we reached the port we once again had a short break before the officials of the ferry ushered us all onwards. It was time to board the huge vessel. As soon as we were at the upper levels I could see that the ferry was more comfortable than the one I took from the port of Piraeus in Greece to Heraclion on Crete. And the journey was much more comfortable as well. I made the acquaintance of some more fellow “Invaders” (Chebby, Christina and Lybia from Spain a few girls from France), slept a bit and wrote a bit. I also had lunch on the deck and browsed a few of the shops.
After arriving at the youth hostel in Dublin I was beginning to wonder where I spent my ₤125 on. The bus had not been as luxurious as promised, we stayed at a youth hostel and I remember not paying a hefty fee for the ferry trip from the mainland of Greece to Crete which took twice as much time and additionally we had to take care of food ourselves.
As soon as I had dumped my stuff on my (shared) room I went to scout for dinner options and folders and flyers with info on “What to see in Dublin”. I quickly introduced myself into a group that would go out to buy ingredients for nice pasta. Martina and I joined Seb (Sebastian), Paul and Emily and went into town to hunt for a store with the required ingredients. Since Ireland is a EU-country that does use the euro I had to get my hands on euros and quickly. While we were out there we saw a loud crowd of men walking making their way through the streets. They were as a pack of mad beasts. Palpable waves of malice and threat rolled of off them and it was obvious that this crowd was out for trouble. Another sure sign were the police agents following the crowd at a respectable distance on bikes. When we were in a store buying supplies a man told us in a very animated fashion how that crowd had thrown in a hotel window and were making trouble further on in the street. They were an angry pack of hooligans and would not go home quietly. When we had bought all we needed we decided to go home swiftly without detours. Neither of us wanted to meet the hooligans. However we need not have worried. As soon as we stepped out of the store we saw police cars riding by with crowded back seats. The hooligans would spend their night cooling off in an Irish cell.
Dinner was simply lovely (we had to pay guarantee money to get pots and pans, for the rooms as well by the way) and afterwards we decided to go into town in search of an Irish pub with live music. Two girls decided to tag along: Josephine from Sweden and Svia from Germany. We landed in a pub on the O’Connel street a few hundred meters from the (three years too late to be the Millennium) Spire. We were greeted with John Denver’s “Country Roads” and I knew that that was to be the pub we would stay in until it was time to catch some sleep. While enjoying an Irish Stout (the others lads had Guinness and the lasses had Cider or juice) we listened to the cover artists acoustic versions of Irish folk songs, Zombie of the Cranberries, Annie’s Song (once again John Denver), Mrs. Robinson from Simon and Garfunkel and many other great songs and discussed our plans for tomorrow. Most wanted to visit the Guinness store house which seemed interesting to me as well. Another point on their list was the Kilmainham Gaol. The prison where the Easter Rising (an Irish rebellion against the English) leaders had been imprisoned. I decided not to see that as in my opinion prisons are rather depressing. If it was a prison where some world-renowned leader had been imprisoned like “Robben island” I would gladly make an exception, but in this case I would rather spend my time exploring Dublin with the free tour Martina decided to go on (it was her idea). So after a great time in the pub we decided to call it a night. The organization had said something about a “partybus” coming by to pick people up who wanted to party, but we weren’t interested as we wanted to get an early start tomorrow and were not interested in paying ₤10 for a night on the town where drinks were not included. So it was off to bed.
In the next installment I will narrate my tour through Dublin and my very first pub crawl.
Reageer op dit reisverslag
Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
