IRELAND: Part I

Hello everyone! I am now back in Paris from my eight day excursion to Ireland. I had a blast! I've always wanted to go to Ireland and I though since I'm here (in France) it would almost be criminal for me not to go over Spring Break. Overall it was a good trip; only rained a few times which is very abnormal for Ireland and I the only problems I really experienced were trying to get out of France, but more on that later. I've split the Ireland trip up into several parts because I took so many pictures and I did so much that for to try to squeeze it all into one post would be a mess and I'm sure you don't want to have to read it all at once.

First thought, before I get started I would like to add that I didn't go to Ireland for about a week after spring break officially started for two reasons. The first was that I had a very good friend from VMI, who is studying at St. Cyr (the French Military Academy), came to Paris for his spring break and we hung out for a couple of days. We just walked around and caught up with each other. I was actually the first native English speaker he has seen since coming to France so it was a good time. The other reason I left later was the Icelandic Volcano. I was originally supposed to leave on the April 19th but like so many other flights my flight got canceled. This turned out to be a mixed blessing. I still had some work that needed to get finished before I left and I was glad I had the extra time to do it. A couple of those nights I went and hung out with friends who were all in the same boat I was. It was a good time though; relaxing in a way because I didn't immediately jump into the vacation. In the meantime though I was made phone calls to Travelocity, desperately trying to get my flight switched to Thursday, April 22nd. Finally after several phone calls I got the flight switched for Thursday. I still hadn't booked some places and others were up in the air. I was leaving for Ireland with a basic plan of "winging it".






DAY 1: THURSDAY APRIL 22, 2010

Thursday began rather well. I was a bit apprehensive about my flight though because I didn't know if I was going to be confirmed or not. The Travelocity Agent I spoke too was very adamant that I had a confirmed seat on the 12:55 flight to Dublin. However, I wasn't so reassured. I hadn't received a confirmation email from them that said I had the flight for several days after changing it and when I did receive the email it said I was only confirmed for the return trip. I had my papers from the other flight though and I reasoned that I could try to use those as a bargaining piece if I had to.






I was out the door by 9:15AM with all my gear in tow. I might have packed too much but I didn't mind the weight. All my experience in Boy Scouts and Army ROTC has trained me well I suppose. To get to Charles de Gaulle Airport one must take the RER. The RER is a commuter train system that connects the outer regions and suburbs of Paris with the city center. There are five of these of lines; A, B, C, D, and E. RER B is the line that runs closest to where I live and it has a branch that runs directly to CDG (Charles de Gaulle). The ride itself is forty minutes to an hour long depending on the time of day. Thankfully for me no one really wanted to ride to CDG on the RER B at that time Thursday morning.

When I arrived at CDG I had no idea in which Terminal my flight was in because of the vagueness of my "confirmation". I ended up going to Terminal 1 first and asking around where I could find the particular airline check-in counter I was looking for. Of course the first person I asked had no idea what I was talking about. Although I thought I was speaking some pretty good French the attendant still couldn't figure it out. Then she figured out I spoke English and thinking that she was pretty smart tried to tell me very indignantly what to do. However, I soon discovered that she could only speak certain English phrases and when I tried to explain what I wanted she still didn't have any idea what I was saying. This was just the beginning of my day. So I moved over to another attendant who had more patience and she clearly explained where I was to go in French which I understood: to get to my destination though I had to go to the other side of CDG to Terminal 2.

Upon arriving at Terminal 2 I followed the signs to the check-in counters where my flight was. When I reached the top of the stairs a mass of people greeted my eyes. Everywhere I looked there were huge lines of people waiting and waiting for their flights. It was a complete mess. I moved down past gate "F" to gate "E" trying to find smaller lines. Finally I came upon a short line although I was carefully guarded by two Air France attendants wearing black suits. I showed one of them my itinerary from Monday and he let me in the line. I thought "things are going rather well so far." The wait was may be forty minutes. However, when I got to the counter I was informed that I indeed did not have a reservation on the flight. I was a little upset not because I didn't have a reservation but because Travelocity had basically lied to me. She put me on the wait list and I was told that I needed to wait until they called for the Dublin flight.

The waiting area for the waitlisted travelers was a complete mess. It wasn't even a waiting area. They had just told people to "go wait over there...somewhere" and so somewhere around the area is where everyone waited. Unfortunately for everyone, this same area was a heavily used traffic area. The "waitlisters" tried to stay out of the way but as more and more people got waitlisted the travel lane in the middle closed to just a few feet. It got really interesting when big carts carrying the over sized luggage came through. Not to mention it was a one lane pathway that was supposed to be two lanes. Frustrations and tempers mounted as people pushed and shoved trying to get out of the way and not be buried deep in the back of the line.

Of course this is the fault of the Airline staff and airport personnel. I saw no reason that any of this should be happening and it shouldn't have been. There was no one visibly in charge and there were many personnel just standing around watching the masses of people gaggling together trying to get a good spot in line. This thought is typically French and I make this statement after having lived in around these people for the last several months. Although I should specify that these people are Parisians too. Yes there is a difference between Parisians and French which I will not go into here. Just keep in mind that this behavior is typically Parisians. However if one particular behavior showed itself that day it would be stubbornness. The Parisians have a strong stubbornness for doing things their way and their way only. It's been the way they've done things and that's just how it's going to be; especially if the improvement happens to be an American idea or the idea of another Anglophone country. They resent that. Parisians don't get involved in things; situations and confrontations to be specific. They keep to themselves and just let everything happen. They don't really seem to have an understanding that "if I do something to solve this it would make things better." So those without anything to do didn't take the initiative and fix the problem of mass disorganization which was not the problem of the passengers but was the problem of the airport and airline. Of course I wasn't the only one to see this. All the other passengers to Dublin, who were also Irish saw this and in typical Irish fashion began to strongly voice their opinions much to the frustration of the attendants who continued to do nothing.

As the flight time rolled around an attendant came over and began calling for "Dublin." Now when the Parisians call for a city in the airport they make a point of pronouncing it in French; somewhat understandable at first but by the eighth and ninth time with no one coming forward it has become absurd and a hindrance to the process. Yet they continue to do so. Why? Any spoken English is not to be tolerated from a Frenchman, even when 90 percent of the people in front of the attendants speak English and maybe only half understand French. That being said Dublin isn't pronounced the same way it is given a good French pronunciation which no one has ever heard before. So for about five minutes of the attendant screaming "Dewblih" (the "n" isn't pronounced and the "u" is given a long "u" sound) everyone slowly began to understand what she was saying. Another word was "Londres" which is actually London; more easily identified looking at the word than hearing it, especially in the airport. So this went on for the rest of the day. The Parisians attendants fighting desperately to keep their language alive while everyone else suffered from the purposeful miscommunication.

I never did get on that flight or the next one for that matter. I was told that I didn't even have my name in the computer for the waitlist. I had basically waited for nothing for the second flight. By the third flight came up one of the attendants who was not originally native French but looked Middle Eastern or North African, maybe native Parisians (and therefore looked down upon by the other native French/Parisians), kept saying over and over again "this is a peasants job" because he too was frustrated with the day’s events and had probably been up late and working the entire weekend and most of the week trying to sort out all the problems caused by mother nature. The flight wasn't completely filled and so he wrote me a waitlist ticket that essentially guaranteed me a seat on the flight. He told me to go to the gate by 1800 which is 6:00PM and try to get on. He even sent my bag down to the gate. He was the first person I met that day who actually had the customers in mind and not themselves so gained my respect.

It was about 4:15PM or so and the airport had cleared out quite considerably from early in the morning. There were very few people left. I went and sat down at the cafe and began trying to figure out what I was going to do when I got to Dublin at 7:55PM, provided I could get on the plane. I got in contact with one of the ISA staff at the office in Paris and she graciously helped me get some phone numbers and even sent an email to my B&B is was supposed to stay at that night. I didn't think that I was going to get to Dingle, located along the south western coast of Ireland on the Dingle Peninsula, but I thought I would at least give it a try. I had a bite to eat and just relaxed from the day's frustrations.

1800 came by and I made my way to security and got through rather quickly. I then walked down to my gate which of course had to be at the very end of the Terminal. When it was boarding time I walked up, handed my waitlisted pass to the attendant and she gave me a real one and let me through. I couldn't almost believe it! I was on the flight. The flight itself was really nice. We had a small dinner since it was maybe two hours and landed at 7:55PM - 8:00PM local time. When I stepped off the plane I looked out the door and saw mountains. I was immediately reminded of the mountains at home by Dillsburg. The sun was out and there was a nice cool breeze. It was a very good feeling to finally be there for I had started the day without any idea if I would get to Ireland or not.

I took a bus then into town. The ride was about 20 to 30 minutes and the bus dropped me off on O'Connell Street which is the main street on the north side of the river. I didn't have a place to stay so I walked in the direction of the hostel where I was supposed to stay before. It took a while to find the street. However there was a hotel there fight by the bus station so I got a room there instead. I wanted to crash anyway and didn't want to mess with other people. I set about finding dinner; something inexpensive. There was a McDonald's, a Burger King, and an Irish fast food place called SuperMacs so I thought I would try that instead. It was okay but America definitely knows how to do fast food better than anyone else. I walked around trying to get a feel for the town. Dublin is about the size of Harrisburg, but Harrisburg has some higher buildings. On the other hand Dublin also reminded me of York, PA in some ways. In any event I found an internet cafe and bought some train tickets to Talee where I could get a bus to Dingle. I went back to the hotel and then crashed feeling very exhausted yet excited to be in Ireland.

DAY 2: FRIDAY APRIL 23, 2010

I had to get early again on Friday because I had a train to catch at 9:00AM. After getting ready I went down stairs and asked how much the breakfast was, was told "10 euros", and thought "forget that" and proceeded to go to McDonalds where I bought a coffee and a danish for less than 4 euros. One euro is .73 US dollars so you can figure out the math on that one. I bought some snacks for the day and picked up a timetable at the bus station for later in the trip. I checked out and took their version of the tram to directly to the train station. I got my ticket and boarded the train. It all went very smoothly. The nice thing about ordering tickets online is that one can chose which seats they want. I booked myself a nice window seat with a table.

The train rolled out of Dublin right on schedule and in about 10 minutes we were in the middle of the country. The Irish countryside reminds me a lot of home, especially the Barren's Valley, with all the rolling hills and farm houses. However, Ireland is greener and is a little quainter. Their new house that they build are actually tasteful in keeping with traditional Irish architecture and don't sit on 1/4 acre plots that turn out really to be just bigger than the house. Ireland is almost all farmland. It has a population of 5.5 million with rather small cities so most people live in the country. In the east the farming is more along the lines of crops; potatoes, wheat, and perhaps beans. The land is flat and is rich in nutrients. As the train travel in a southwesterly direction the farmland began to turn into pastures for sheep and cattle. Sheep farming is really popular particularly on the west coast where the soil doesn't permit the growing of crops. Although before the famine, potato farming was the biggest crop.

I had to switch trains at Mallow. This train was a little smaller; not in width but in length. As we pulled into every stop both trains would play an automated voice first in Irish and then in English. I found this to be quite fascinating. I later learned that 70 percent of the Irish are proficient in Irish and that on the west coast there are small little pockets of people who speak Irish as their first language. The government requires that students are taught the language in school and even sends them to summer camps in the west where they can only speak Irish. I rolled into Tralee, pronounced Tra Li, at 1:00 PM and set about finding some food. I got a salad and then ate it but the church. However, right when I was almost down a little "older" woman came up to me and asked me where I was off too and where I was from. Upon learning that I was American she told me that she had lived near New York City and that her son now works in the Pentagon.

I went back to the bus station and got the bus to Dingle. I napped and only woke up when we were almost there. It was about an hour's drive. I arrived in Dingle at about 3:00PM and went straight to the Tourist Office. There I got a map and a brochure of the town. After figuring out where I was I went looking for my B&B which I thought was across the bridge thanks to Google Maps but found out that it wasn't and that I had passed it. So after an hour of walking...I was taking pictures too...I arrived at my B&B. It's actually a working sheep farm too.

I went back into town with both cameras in tow. The landscape of Dingle is so dramatic because there are mountains that just rise straight up but there aren't any trees on them at all. This is because the salt air of the wind whips over these mountains and clears everything off but the grass. At the tops of the mountains the highest points are the rock walls. I just explored for a while. There wasn't much else to do. I was only to be in Dingle for less than 24 hours so I just wanted to see as much as I could. The town itself is probably about the size of Wellsville. However, Dingle has more houses which are packed side by side, but the land area is the same.

I ate dinner at an Indian restaurant by mistake because I was looking for a somewhat cheap dinner that night and I saw "Kabob" and "Fish & Chips" on a sign and thought "ok, that works for me". I walked in, sat down, and then realized what I had done. I didn't want to disappoint the host who appeared to be a nice man and I was the only one there, so I stayed. I had the fish and chips. After dinner I walked around some more and eventually found myself sitting on a wall, on top of a hill, enjoying the sunset. The hill looked over the harbor so I had a very nice view of the town below me. I stayed there awhile and wrote in my journal. As soon as the sun set though the wind picked up and it got very cold so I went back to my B&B for the rest of the evening. By the end of Friday I was very happy to be in Ireland finally and very content with life.

Well there is part one. The pictures that I am posting in with Thursday are from Dingle and Dublin. Sorry I don't have any mass confusion pictures from the airport. I didn't really want to waste my precious batteries and memory space on that mess. I hope you enjoy this and I will do my best to have Part II up in the next day or so. Take Care!