My Goodness, My Guinness
My daydreams about Ireland often featured Irish people spending much of their time sitting around Irish pubs with names like Murphy’s and O’Connors, drinking pints of Guinness. At home, Guinness is a delicacy, not found in every bar, and often running at around $5.00 a pint. I still remember drinking my first Guinness ever. I was 21, in a pub in Washington, D.C., surrounded by new acquaintances I didn’t know that well. It tasted like a strange mix of coffee, chocolate and beer. It was unlike anything I had ever drank before. No matter where you are in the United States, drinking a Guinness can make you feel like you are sitting in a pub in Ireland, surrounded by green countryside, even though you are probably sitting in some sort of American imitation in some concrete jungle somewhere.
I have to agree with Sloan from Reason to Wander: your first Guinness in Ireland is your best. All the anticipation of a place rolled up into one drink.
Our first Guinness was in Donegal with our friend McIntyre. We unanimously agreed: it tasted better than at home. It was the perfect pour, the perfect temperature, the perfect flavor. It tasted downright creamy. With each new arrival of our friends from home, we watched them enjoy their first Guinness in Ireland. Fantastic stuff.
Like good tourists, we toured the Guinness factory in Dublin. We heard the tour was touristy, but there was no question that we would go. We had all bought into the Guinness marketing a long ago and are of the similar opinion that it is always a lovely day for a Guinness.
Their terminology is misleading; if you think of it as more of a Guinness museum, as opposed to a tour of a factory, you won’t be disappointed.
Plus the Sky Bar on the 7th floor has great views of Dublin as you drink your free (or 15 euro, depending on how you view it) Guinness.
Our Irish Home Away From Home
In many ways, coming to Ireland was like going home. Certain aspects of Ireland were, to me, more akin to the United States rather than the rest of Europe. There’s big things, like the fact that we understood everybody and everything for the first time in months. Well, if you don’t count the accents, that is. Newspapers, television, signs, packages – all in English. We could have real conversations with people, instead of just trading limited words. Then there’s the little things. Instead of just stone, brick buildings lined the streets. Waiters will actually bring you tap water to the table without being asked. The food was more familiar, too. We ordered things like chicken salads and turkey sandwiches.
The best part about Ireland, and the thing that made it so familiar, was the steady stream of friends that came to visit us. First McIntyre, then Matt, Danielle, and Jason, and then Tony. It was fantastic to get to visit with everyone, even if everyone’s comings and goings meant that we all ended up traversing Ireland in a less than ideal fashion. Everyone came and went as they could in order to fit their vacation to Ireland into their schedules. We already had forgotten how short a one week vacation is. We were appreciative that everyone chose to spend their vacation with us.
First, Mac met us in Dublin, and Mac, Sean and I headed to Donegal to visit places significant to Mac’s family roots. Next, we headed to Galway to see Josh Ritter at the Galway Arts Festival. Then, it was back to Dublin to meet Matt, Danielle, and Jason on Sunday, and Tony on Monday. The seven of us got to spend two days together in Dublin, before Mac flew home for a family reunion and the rest of us drove to Doolin. The next day, it was off to Dingle, and then to Kilkenny, before everyone had to fly home. When Sean and I woke up on Saturday, realization set in. This is our life now. It was just the two of us. We had no plans, just the rental car for another 10 days. Well, Sean said, want to go visit Kilkenny castle or something?
Sightseeing is fun and all, and this year of travel is an amazing opportunity, but nothing beats drinking in a pub with friends you’ve known for years.
Naturally, I have lots of stories to tell from the time the gang was in Ireland, as well as the time Sean and I spent, mostly in Northern Ireland, after everyone left. Stay tuned…
Rynek Glowny
Krakow’s main square, Rynek Glowny, is one of the largest of the European cities. It is filled with people, vendors, Polish food, pigeons, beautiful buildings, and churches. We spent lots of time just walking through the square.
Unfortunately, it is also filled with people trying to sell you tours around the city and the sites close by. Some days we could not walk two steps without someone new asking us to take a tour. Mostly because of this, Krakow felt more touristy than the other cities we visited in Europe. Despite this slight annoyance, we think Krakow is a great city to spend some time in.
Visiting Auschwitz and Dachau
When we were in Munich visiting Abbie, we visited Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial, which was the site of the first concentration camp in Germany.
We also went to Auschwitz while we were in Krakow. Auschwitz was designated by the Nazis as the place where the “final solution of the Jewish question in Europe” would take place. As if there were any questions to answer other than how people could act so cruel, depraved, and sadistic towards their fellow human beings.
I don’t have much to say about our experiences at Dachau and Auschwitz, other than I think it is important for everyone to visit a Holocaust memorial somewhere at some point in their life. To pay respect to those who suffered and died. To learn more, to ensure that history never repeats itself in this way. The experience at the memorials is sobering. Particularly at Auschwitz, where each pair of shoes, laying in piles and piles, in all shapes and sizes – including children’s shoes – really makes it hit home, the shear enormity of the number of individuals who died there at the hands of others.
We also visited the recently opened Schindler Museum at the site of Oskar Schindler’s former factory in the Podgroze neighborhood of Krakow. It is designed to demonstrate what life was like for Poles and Jews during the time of Nazi occupation of Krakow. Having visited Auschwitz the day before, the musuem’s exhibits were all the more poignant.
Hall of Choices, showing people’s ethical dilemmas:
Quote about the lives Oskar Schindler saved:
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
I’ve never been fond of pigeons. They congregate around you when you are trying to enjoy a nice meal outside. They crowd you. They stare at you, and try to coerce you to feed them. They have beady eyes. They poop. Everywhere. (Particularly up and down the side of your house when they live in your neighbor’s roof. Not that we ever lived next door to a house like that or anything). And they make annoying, persistent, cloying gurgling noises.
As a long-time reader of Ginny Montanez’s blog That’s Church and previously, the Burgh Blog, my distain of pigeons has been taken to a new level, incited by Ginny’s boundless hatred of pigeons. So I am posting this to warn her, and others who truly, deeply hate pigeons, that Krakow is best to be avoided. Apparently, pigeons in Krakow are legendary and respected. The horror.
They are EVERYWHERE in Krakow, especially in Rynek Glowny, Krakow’s main square. And they are ready to attack. One morning, I was taking pictures of the square, when I spotted a congregation of pigeons. Suddenly, they took flight and aimed themselves directly at the people like missiles. It was like a scene out of that horror movie The Birds.
Pigeons surrounding, getting ready:
Pigeons on attack:
Shudder.