Scoring a rainbow pencil from the Leprechaun Museum was not our biggest win of our third day in Dublin. We also went on a pub crawl with New Europe, which simply must be done. We learned a bit about the history and culture of Irish pubs and met some very interesting people. 5 pubs, 1 club, 40 minutes in each pub before the final destination club. Lots of great deals and freebies. Needless to say, the night was EPIC!

Ireland is trying to repossess the leprechaun as a part of Irish heritage and lore. This initiative is how the National Leprechaun Museum came to be, which was my favorite part of the trip by far.

On our third day in Dublin, we slept in and wandered over to the National Leprechaun Museum around 11am. The four of us enthusiastically signed up for next available tour! On this tour, our guide gave us a brief history of the reinventions and adaptions of the leprechaun by corporations such as Disney and Kelloggs (Lucky Charms is not exactly Irish). Then, we went through a “magic tunnel” that shrank us to the size of leprechauns. We climbed on giant furniture, followed the rainbow to the end, saw a pot of gold, and laughed a lot along the way.

The museum not only opened my eyes to Irish mythology and folklore, but also gave me an unforgettable adventure. At the end, we all had a chance to draw what we thought about the museum, and here’s what I drew: 

 After we returned to our normal size, Susan and I went back to the hostel to take a nap while Scott and Jeanette explored O’Connell Street, which Susan and I had explored the day before on our early morning walk. That night was another adventure all together, but I’ll save that story for my next post.

We were all a bit warmer and fuzzier after the Jameson Distillery tour, so we were ready for a night out on the town. After all, Dublin is famous for its night scene. We were shocked and amazed to no end -needless to say, we were all much closer and wiser friends after this night.

We went back to the hostel to rest, change, and take pictures before our big night out. A friend at Trinity College recommended a couple of places. Little did we know -in our haste to have a good time- that nightlife in Dublin doesn’t really start until midnight.

10:00pm. Three ladies, one guy sit at a bar in Dublin, looking around trying to find some sign of life because this bar, which is called the Village, is otherwise empty. On top of our misfortune of stumbling into a completely abandoned club in Dublin, the bartender was rude and the drinks were over priced. So we ran to the next place, D-Two, our friend recommended, which had no cover before 11pm! It was quite a party to say the least…

We had some laughs as we sat by the bar. We danced a bit, but we were horrified at the outfits some of the ladies were wearing! I have no pictures because I would not want to expose anyone else to the obscene amount of skin we saw on the dance floor! The heels on these girls were also ridiculous, note:

How do you not get vertigo from wearing these things?

Anyway, no one can say the Irish are not friendly. On our way out of the club, a shirtless, blonde Irish guy named Dean came up to us with a toothy, loop-sided smile. He recognized our American accents and offered to show us how to get back to Temple Bar. As it turned out, he thought we were trying to hail a cab that we could split with him. Since we were set on not spending money and walking back, Dean was nice enough to keep showing us the way and we all got caught up in conversation. Dean ended up walking us back several miles in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go. It all seemed very funny to me at the time. The night ended at a McDonalds that was packed with loads of loud, drunk, scantily-clothed Irish people. We felt content that we had seen real Irish nightlife.

7:45am. Back aches, bed creeks, throat dry, eyes sting, blankets itch but warm, room cold. Susan is waking me gently as it’s my turn to shower. My hair is still damp as Susan and I set out for a stroll on that brisk, foggy morning in Dublin.

We wander through drowsy Dublin, picking up a coffee and pastryas we go. Stumbling upon the €1 Store, I purchase a very useful and much needed soap dish as well as a shot glass souvenir!

11:30am. Jeanette and Scott are still sleeping, so we gently wake them up.

Reinvigorated and energized, we go to Dublin Castle to explore, adventure, and learn a little history. I can’t remember any fun facts off the top of my head, but I can say we had a splendid time frolicking in the gardens behind the Castle.

We went to the Tax Collection & Customs Museum, where a very friendly guard gave us a personalized tour -as he inserted personal anecdotes and filled in the gaps of history not explained by plaques.

This was all very exciting, but not nearly as fun as going to the Jameson Distillery. Susan and I tried some Butler’s Jameson chocolate before our French Canadian guide gave us a tour of how Jameson Whiskey is distilled. I was chosen to be a whiskey taster! I still have my certificate!

This essentially entailed tasting and comparing the taste of John Jameson Whiskey (Irish, distilled thrice), Johnny Walker Whiskey (Scottish, distilled twice), and Captain Jack Morgan Whiskey (American, distilled once). I shared with Susan, Jeanette, and Scott, who made a face when he tried each one. We all drank our free Jameson mixed drinks and went out to go explore Dublin nightlife.

We were exhausted on our first day in Dublin. This is due to staying up all night the night before and sleeping less than an hour on the plane. Needless to say we learned our lesson.

We went to the Guinness Brewery -Jeanette’s choice. On our way, we stopped at an old fashion Irish pub. Enormous stone fireplace, dripping wax candles, cobwebs, giant pints and giant tables and boothes. I got some traditional Irish stew, which was the perfect remedy to lift my cold, dead spirits (sleep depravation and cold weather are not the best when traveling in a new place).

At the Guinness Brewery, we (and when I say we, I mean I) almost fell asleep as we wandered through what was actually just a giant sized museum that praised the Guinness brand of beer. We got our free samples at the end of the tour. 

Just before it closed, we rushed to the rooftop bar with its sweeping views of drowsy Dublin, shrouded in mist.

Jeanette and I almost passed out right there at the bar. Fortunately, we mustered enough energy to get back to the hostel for a nice, well-deserved nap in our hostel while we waited for Scott to get to Dublin. Once Scott arrived, we begrudgingly got out of bed and wandered around Temple Bar to get something to eat. We settled on fish-n-chips and cocktails in another Irish Pub. Exhausted and somewhat delirious, we returned to the hostel and collapsed to rest for a wonderful and magical next day in Dublin.

After many days of traveling and studying for exams, I’ve decided to pick up from where I left off with this lovely blog. So, be prepared for loads of stories and adventures coming your way! (Sorry they’re a couple months/weeks late!)

We arrived in Dublin at 10:20am GMT. A bit groggy, we slogged through the line for immigration, which was surprisingly short. The easygoing immigration officer at the Dublin Airport amicably advised me that the weather would be warm for Dublin all week, and we wished each other a good day as he stamped my passport with an Ireland Tourist visa!

This is a picture of my visa to Ireland (Left), and here’s a picture of me looking pretty exhausted (finally wearing my glasses) at Dublin Airport (Below).

We took the 747 bus (for €6 each) into College Green to orient and refresh ourselves at a Starbucks. We took turns guarding our bags and ordered some breakfast. The affable men working at Starbucks brought us our tea and muffins in giant tea cups and on plates! (Below: water bottle for hydration; tea for staying conscious and congenial; Sun Rise Pumpkin, Ginger muffin for deliciousness!)

Feeling more revived after eating some food and drinking some water and caffeine, we wandered over to the Tourist Information Center of Dublin where we were greeted by a well-disposed man in a green suit with salt & pepper hair. He directed us toward the free information packets and pricey souvenirs.

After collecting more than enough free tourist guide pamphlets (although, gratefully, we didn’t take one of each), we headed out to purchase O2 sim cards for Susan and my phones (€10 each, not cheap but worth it!). We wouldn’t truly understand until later in our trip, but these sim cards were pretty much a necessity and became crucial to group cohesion and trip coordination.

Three women, one guy: an EPIC journey to Dublin!

We only convinced Scott to come with us at the last minute, and he came by bus and ferry later on the 14th. Since our flight was at 6:30am and we would have to leave at 2am to get to the bus that was taking us to the London Gatwick Airport, we decided to just pull an all nighter. This was a BAD idea, but I’ll get back to this later.

We had some wine with dinner and said farewell to friends in London.

While we were waiting for the bus, we began to feel a bit wobbly from the wine and disoriented from tiredness. We had a couple frantic moments on our way to the airport because my directions to the bus station at Earls Court were terrible and Susan and my phones’ GPS decided to cut out at that exact moment (when we so urgently needed them!). Fortunately, someone kindly pointed us in the direction of the right bus and we got to Earls Court alright.

It was cold and I desperately needed a bathroom. Luckily, Susan, Jeanette and I were able to able to entertain ourselves whilst we waited for the Easybus to come take us to Gatwick. When the bus finally came, I dreaded the hour-long bus ride before I could use a loo, but I ended up sleeping the whole way there and the journey turned into a very pleasant nap. Relief came within moments of our arrival at Gatwick.

We disembarked the Easybus, and we familiarized ourselves with the Southern Terminal of Gatwick Airport. Even though there was significantly less signage than I’m used to (and it didn’t help that, for some reason, I was being obstinate about not wearing my glasses), we found the right security entrance to get to our gate. We were approximately two hours early, so we sat in the Pret, where we chatted about warm memories and giggled over Cosmopolitan articles.

Believing we might miss our flight, we rushed to gate 22 only to find ourselves midway in a long line. There was more security, then we got into our seats. Susan came up with the brilliant idea that whoever sits in the middle, gets to choose where to sit next time, which is a great system since we’ll be doing so much traveling together. (Jeanette flew in the middle on the way there, and Susan on the way back.)

We passed out on the plane within seconds of the fasten seat belt sign flickering on. Then, before we knew it, we were in Dublin!

I believe I’ve come to accept the British system and all its oddities. (In fact, things aren’t odd in London, it’s just that I find things odd because I’m so accustomed to the American system.)

I’m learning how to take pride in being American and finding humor in our stereotypes. I can laugh at American jokes about our extremely large portions and backwards healthcare system, while still refuting stereotypes, such as Americans aren’t very smart or women don’t like sports or we were all in spelling bees at one time (“and still can’t spell words properly!” -I was never in a spelling bee).

Characteristics of the Understanding Stage  of culture shock:

• You become more familiar with the culture, people, food, and language of your host country
• You have made friends
• You become less homesick
• You are more comfortable with speaking and listening to the language spoken in your host country
• You become more comfortable and relaxed in your new environment
• You better handle the situations previously found frustrating

It’s definitely true that I feel more relaxed, less frustrated, and more accustomed to the strangeness here.

I have eaten fish&chips and read The Guardian whenever possible.

The accents don’t sound so foreign (or snobby -a common observation of my American friends here is that the accent feels more aloof and condescending because we associate British accents with snobbery and proper-ness).

I can actually find things in Sainsbury’s. It used to be really frustrating how I couldn’t find peanut butter or laundry detergent!

I have made fun of Americans; I have told jokes about the French; I have made fun of the Italians (they don’t pay taxes, it’s relatively easy to make fun of them).

I have made more than a couple British friends, which makes adjusting MUCH easier.

I have watched British television shows, like The Inbetweeners, The Only Way is Essex (thank you Tamar!), and Robin Hood. (I still can’t find how to watch Sherlocke, which EVERYONE recommends.) Interestingly enough, episodes are only 25 minutes long.

I know who David Beckham and John Terry are (former and current captains of the England “football” team).

In spite of my imminent deadlines for two very intimidating essays and now a speech as well, I find myself feeling strangely cheerful. As Nellie once sang on a beach in the South Pacific, “I’m as corny as Kansas in August, High as a flag on the Fourth of July!” Although there isn’t a field of corn or American flag for several hundred miles, the sun is bright and I’m bubbling over with excitement for Dublin, Edinburgh after that, and a much anticipated visit (from a one who is dear to my heart).

Here’s the sun shining brightly on one of my excursions to Parliament (I’ve been three times on this visit thus far!)

Maybe it’s because I have been better about Skyping home. Or, perhaps my good mood can be attributed to going to the gym more often and taking salsa classes.

I really enjoy salsa, and it’s a great way to meet people! Once a week we go out dancing to practice. I’ve learned a lot (most importantly, I’ve learned NOT to lead and -if you’re dancing with someone who knows the steps- it’s exceptionally easy to follow!)

Watching and talking about the Superbowl with British students was fun. My friends wanted to get a small group together to watch the game in one of the residence halls:

Word got out and by the kick-off at 11:30pm (GMT), the small common room was cramped and teaming with people, diehard fans and newbies alike. UCL sponsored traditional American Superbowl drinks and eats: chicken wings, beer (no Sam Adams, I’m sad to say), BBQ & sour cream and onion chips (called chips = crisps here).  We stayed up until 2am watching the Patriots’ disappointing defeat! The guy to my left in the picture (thumbs-up, red shirt) was a British student who was intensely interested in learning the rules.

Sadly, there were no commercials on the BBC, the British news channel we watched, only the British commentary! If you read this and we’re friends on Facebook, post  a link to your favorite Superbowl commercial on my wall! Contest: post the most epic Superbowl XLVI commercial!

Has anyone ever noticed how biographies tend to be so deterministic? My father graduated summa cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa from Brandeis University. Steve Jobs had a passion for aesthetics and electronics at an early age. Margaret Thatcher was politically minded from girlhood. Even Sheryl Sandberg, the current no. 2 at Facebook, was “always at the top of her class” and award the John H. Williams Prize for the top graduating student in economics at Harvard College!

Lost and confused in London, I am unsure what to believe my future should hold. I hope that I will become at least a fraction as successful as my dad and mom, who are admired by almost everyone who meets them. Reassessing my priorities, finding direction, refining my passions, and minding the gap between my ambitions and what I need to do to achieve them, these are my current pursuits.