How The Other Half Live; Florence in One Day.

In my last blog I talked about my two days in Venice, and I intended to do another blog the next day on my time in Florence, but work got in the way. The joys of retail work during the run up to Christmas. Its a little belated but I suppose better late than never.

Well, we arrived in on the train from Venice at about lunch time, and I have to say we were so impressed with the train systems in Italy. It worked out at about 20 euro for a 2 hour high speed train from Venice to Florence, and they are so comfortable and easy to figure out. Just buy your tickets online before heading on your trip. After the quiet and peace of the cobbled Venetian alleys, the hustle and bustle of the busy Florence city came as a bit of a shock. Writing this, I think I should get the negative aspects of the city over and done with before ending on the positives. We found our hostel easily from the train station, but instantly found Florence to be quiet different to Venice. As well as the noise of constant traffic, we found the people there to just not be very unfriendly compared to the Venetians. For example, standing in line to see the famous 'David' by Michaelangelo (more on that later), we found the sellers of memorabilia to be absolutely horrible. They were particularly racist to the Indian man standing in front of us, and like to harrass and hassle you a lot more than the Venetians, or even the Romans, to buy their products. I found them quite intimidating and they really set a bad feeling for the city as a whole from a tourism perspective. I personally also found the tourist sights and museums to be extremely busy and I felt a little like a member of a herd of cattle jostling around places. I found the people working in the tourist places, such as the cathedrals, churches and museums, to be quite rude and unfriendly. Even the people staying in our hostel room were rude!I slowly began to realise that in this city, money makes the world go round. As a backpacker, that's not the way you work, but more on that later.  To be completely honest, I really didnt like Florence, and wouldn't even think about recommending it or going back again ..... But that's my negative rant over . There are some nice things about Florence! Promise.

We started out our one day in Florence by seeking out the famous 'David' statue, built by Michaelangeo. It is located in a museum, the Galleria de Academia, whose entrance is on a little side street, easily missed if you don't have an eye for street names and a good map. When queueing up, I was standing there thinking 'is this really worth it? Its just a little statue' (tip,  book beforehand. The queue is much smaller). It is not little, at all, and it is really worth it. We got an audioguide (bring a drivers licence as they ask to hold id when taking the audioguide, and giving a passport is not a good idea), and it was well worth it. There is so much to see in the museum besides the statue, and it is really interesting. But the statue is by far the most spectacular thing there. It is HUGE, and has the most amazing detail and is so lifelike. Take time to sit and really look at it, but whatever you do, don't take pictures of it. If you do you will feel the wrath of one of the scariest and loudest museum security guards on the planet, only a little less scary than the ones in the Sistine Chapel.

From there we headed over to the popular shopping area in the old quarter of the city near the Rialto bridge. Here, we found ourselves wandering around, bemused, and ending up sitting at an old cathedral (now an art museum) feeling very, very poor. Everywhere you look there are the most expensive designer brands, from Dior, to Prada, to Gucci. You think of it, its there. To say our backpacker style and love for cheap pizza didn't really suit the atmosphere was an understatement. As my travelling partner pointed out, we were like peasants in a noble's castle. Similarly, when we found the Rialto bridge, we took our pictures and oood and aaaahd at it, and then wandered across it. What I didnt realise was the Rialto bridge is actually a shopping street rather than a bridge, and has only jewellery stores on either side. Very expensive jewellery stores. We moved across the bridge and took a wander through the Piazzas getting a feel for the place, and stopped for a beer or two, and admired all the amazing architecture in the streets.

We also took in the splendour that is the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, or the Duomo as it is better known. This is a gothic style cathedral, and really is amazingly detailed and awesome in size. Squeezed into a piazza, it is free in (wear appropriate clothing) and has the most amazing 3D like fresco on the roof of the dome, although your neck won't thank you for your interest in it after.

To end the day, we sat on the roof of our hostel and watched the sun set down over the city, which was really beautiful, and we chatted to some nice Malaysian tourists and relived our time in Asia. We then found the nicest food in a restaurant near our hostel named Mamma Napoli, which was located opposite the entrance to the Mercato Centrale Firenze (Florence Central indoor Market). The waiters there were so friendly and the food was incredible and pretty cheap. We finished off with a few beers during a Rome v Florence football match.

I must say, although there are some lovely things to see in Florence such as the Duomo and handsome David, unless you intend on doing some serious shopping, I wouldn't come to Florence. It is characterised by the smell of cigars, expensive coffee, and poodles in knitted jumpers. It should never be on any backpacker's hot list, and you know, once a backpacker, always a backpacker; you just cant shake the innate attraction to cheap, and Florence really doesn't like cheap.

Next blog, Rome (I promise, its a happy ending).

Slán.

A Venetian Venture; Venice in Two Days.

'We'll give it a shot' .....

Not the greatest thing to hear your pilot say as you circle above a large bank of fog in a Ryanair plane doing more shakes than a 19 year old student on the dancefloor of Copperface Jacks. But this was what we faced as we flew into a Venetian airport, anxious for our Italian adventure. Two weeks previously we were sitting in our sitting rooms moaning about our niggling travel bug, and there we were, thinking of pizza and pasta, praying the 'shot' would be accurate. You can assume from my presence from behind the keyboard that it was accurate enough.

Two hours later and a bit of directional help from some friendly locals, we found ourselves booked into our hotel and sitting on a local bus into Venice.

Tip #1 for Venice; Stay on the mainland rather than the island. Much cheaper, it has some lovely places for a coffee and pastry breakfast, and its easy to access the island on local buses (buy your ticket in local newsagents BEFORE getting on the bus. It only costs about €1.20 one way).

Venice was more his city than mine, and I wasn't really bothered seeing it as I had heard some stinky stories in regards to the city, but I was captivated from the moment I stepped over the bridge. Its full of clean, old, leaning architecture towering over little cobbled streets. Everywhere you turn it leads you more into the mazes of hidden piazzas filled with little cafes, gelataries and little churches filled with the most amazing paintings. The quiet is so peaceful as there is no traffic, only quit gondolas accompanied by the odd singer with his love songs. The place is full of Italian character, and wine, lets not forget the wine!

We started off our two days with a gorgeous pizza for €6.50 (average enough price for Italy), followed by an exploratory stroll where we came across the Chiesa di San Rocco, the Basilica di San Marco and numerous antique shops full of old first edition books and maps. Also wherever you turn you find little local shops run by local artists who make the traditional venetian masks worn through the annual 'Carnival of Venice'. Very 'Phantom of the Opera'. Bloody Ryanair hand luggage allowance! I would have brought the lot home!

We moved on to a dinner at a restaurant on the main canal ...

Tip #2; the restaurants on the canal are nice and romantic, but the service doesn't seem to be as good as the other little pizzerias on the side streets. Oh and ...

Tip #3. If you say 'grazie' when you hand over money and you expect change, you wont get it. Saying thank you means 'keep the change'. Nightmare when you hand a 50 for a dinner worth 16 euro. Just say nothing and tip after. Much easier.

The next morning, after a coffee and pastry breakfast for no more than €2 in the local café, we headed back into the city to explore the lesser touristy area of the Jewish ghetto. This area is made most famous, as many nerdy English lovers would know, from Shakespeare's 'The Merchant of Venice'. This area was where the Jewish population were forced to live from the mid 1500's, and its still very community based, with quiet squares which see local jewish men discussing the daily goings on and old women sweeping out their houses and hanging out their clothes. The perfect escape from the bustle of the tourist squares, and great for lovers of photography.

We spent the day strolling around the city, eating and people watching, exploring the various little churches, and we ended up on the opposite side of the city looking out across the sea to the Palazza Ducale. Around here we found lovely artists selling their paintings, and it is the perfect place to find nice little pieces to put on the walls at home when you returned to the bleak. We finished off the trip with a gondola ride (a bit pricey at €80 a gondola, but worth it. Can't go to Venice without a gondola ride) where we had a nice tour through the little canals with a singing gondola man, stripy top, hat and all. We found a nice piazza to have gorgeous pasta in while the sun set (a little place called Taverna Dally. Lovely service and food) and then had some incredibly cheap drinks at our hotel.

Tip #4; stick to the hotel for alcohol. €1.80 for a glass of wine!

And finally,

Tip #5. Promise yourself a trip back to Venice. Magic isn't the word.

Slán.

Exploring Dublin's Fair City

In my previous blog post I talked about how I had hastily made the decision to take off on a trip to Italy to attempt to quench both the monotony of daily life and my ever nagging travel bug. I teamed up with a fellow traveller and together we excitedly planned our week trip of three of Italy's main cities; Venice, Florence and Rome. The next number of blogs (the exact number will be determined by my 'at that very moment' level of nattering) will be relating to the above mentioned trip which I returned from last night and am now fighting severe depression as a result of (lack of Italian pastries and good carbonara will do that to you). They are mainly meant to be tips for travelling in these parts, but may be taken over by my massive love of describing Italian food. Beware, do not read on an empty stomach.

Firstly, before jetting off to explore Venetian canals, my travel buddy arrived from his home in Birmingham to meet me for a few days of exploring Dublin city. When we decided he would come over, I instantly felt the pressure to show him the tourist attractions and defend my home city against those of Europe. I originally thought this was practically impossible, as Dublin, in my local opinion, is as boring as it gets. Turns out, after my Mother raided a tourist leaflet stand, that Dublin has a lot more to offer than I thought.

We began our two day trip with a visit to one of Dublin's newest museums; The Little Museum of Dublin opposite St Stephens Green park. This place is fantastic! It has two main rooms filled with memorabilia of the city from the 1900's onwards, and the guide points out a few interesting ones before letting you off to explore the walls. There is everything here, from old newspaper cuttings from the rising, to James Joyce's death mask, to models of Wanderly Wagon. A perfect starting point to get a feel of the city and its little people throughout time.

From here we went down Grafton Street and headed into Trinity College where we got a tour of the grounds and the history of the college, and then moved on to see the book of Kells in one of the buildings. The book is impressive I have to say, but for myself and my friend, nothing beats the long library upstairs. This arched roof library holds thousands of old books and manuscripts, and smells of time and ink. It's got the serious wow factor and any book lover would find it hard to stop themselves from diving over the cordons to root and touch and marvel.

I then took a stroll down to the main street of the North inner city; O'Connell Street, where the famous 1916 uprising took place against the British forces who controlled Ireland at the time. Now just a normal working post office, the General Post Office building in the centre of the street was practically burned to the ground at Easter 1916, and the bullet holes left from fighting with British forces can still be seen in the outside walls and pillars. There is no tour or proper explanation for what went on, but any Irish person around can tell you the general gist.

For dinner, I took the two of us back up Grafton Street to Captain America's cookhouse and grill which does the most amazing food at student prices. The walls are filled with music memorabilia and the atmosphere is always light and easy. The cocktails there are also great! Always a good thing.  From here, we headed to the famous tourist party area, Temple Bar, where any American in Dublin to learn about his 'great great grandaddy' can find traditional Irish music and dancers. For those who are a bit less optimistic about the existence of leprechauns, I suggest CopperFace Jacks (if you are quite hammered, left some personal dignity at the last bar, and want a serious student club night out), D2 on Harcourt Street for a little more club class, or The Porterhouse bar near Trinity for more types of beer than your head can handle.

Day two involved a trip up town a little to Christ Church Cathedral to see the Dublinia exhibition. This shows the settlements and social life in Ireland from the early Viking and medieval times. It basically involves a lot of life like dummies, which scare the bejaysus out of me, so I spent my time trying to breath while letting him wander and wonder. The things we do the entertain the visitors. Onwards and upwards, we went down the road to the Guinness storehouse, which to me is one of the best attractions of the city. Yes I know, typical Irish person to love the drink, but it shows a lot about the actual work that goes on and the social benefits of the factory in its early days and how they work the business today. You could easily spend two hours exploring the 7 floors, and the view from the sky bar at the top alone is worth the visit.

We left the city early enough to head back to my house to ready ourselves for our ridiculously early flight to Venice the next morning, and enjoyed an evening of home cooked food and a meet the parents show. I felt at the time that it was a good start to the holiday, and the amount of walking was a sign of what was to come over the next week, but nothing could have prepared us for what Italy had in store for us, but that is for tomorrow ....

Slán.

Eat, Pray, Love, and Go

The irony is, I don't like the book 'Eat, Pray, Love'. The movie was a massive success, but as a former English student I have the bad habit of reading a book before watching a movie and then deciding whether I watch the movie based on my opinion of the book. I found 'Eat, Pray, Love' the book to be devoid of any substantial plot, too slow to keep interest, and thought it was more a one woman 'look at meeeee' party. Therefore I avoided the movie like the plague. Until, that is, I recorded it on the sky box, and decided  to give it a chance over a coffee breakfast the other morning. I have watched it three times this week.

You see, there comes a point when you arrive home after travelling that you feel like you are content to sit in your own country for a while and live a normal life and hold down a normal job. Some people become content with doing that and find they do it for the rest of their lives with 2 . 5 kids and a dog named Tom. 2.5 kids and a dog named Tom don't fit well into Ryanair cabin baggage allowance, so travelling becomes a yearly or so trip to a beach with a built in Irish bar. That's fine for the person that wants that, but it dawned on me as I watched Julia eat her spaghetti that I was 22 and didn't have 2 . 5 kids and a dog named Tom, and I wanted to eat spaghetti and see Rome. Suddenly, without much warning, the travelling bug was back full force! I tried to calm it down by saying 'no, you are saving money! You are living a normal life! You are not heading off again! You need to stay where you are!'

I consulted a usually understanding friend; former Thai teacher now KFC chip shaker James, who also expressed the feeling of an ever growing travel bug. Suddenly, it was 1am and we had the prices of flights, accommodation, trains, and could already taste the pizza. As James said at one point, 'Why not?'

So, its done. I am taking my week's holiday from work, and on the 16th of October I am getting a Ryanair flight to Venice (dirt cheap so it was. It was half the price of the return train from Kildare to Killarney. Dangerous prices!). I stay in Venice for two or three nights, then take a train to Florence and stay there for a night, then off to beautiful Roma, where I finally get to stand in front of that Colosseum. After three or four nights of my dream destination, I fly home.

After booking the flights yesterday morning and jumping around my kitchen like a Duracell bunny, much to the dismay of my dog, I realised that when Rome is gone off my bucket list, I have only one dream city left; New York. I thought 'only one dream city left. Aim of the day, find a new dream city!'. 'Cause that's the whole point right? Complete monotonous normality doesn't suit humans. Human life always needs a dream to work towards, no matter what that dream is. Thing is, you have to take the chance of living the dream when it comes around, otherwise, whats the point in dreaming?

To Italy we go!

Slán.

1,2, Cha Cha Hop .... 3,4 Cha Cha Drop

Peer pressure is an awful thing. It happens in numerous situations in adult life. You think it ends in the playground with 'I dare you to kiss Johnny and get cooties', which you go ahead and do and remain scared shitless of the killer cooties for days to come. But it follows you into adult life with more painful consequences. It's the 'another drink?', or 'want to share desert?', or 'ah the plane doesn't go that high, just jump'. I had this high and mighty idea of myself that I had gone beyond all that rubbish. Oh silly silly Amy.

I said in a previous blog, the one before I found myself screaming like a raving lunatic at my broken down car, that I was turning my life around one local activity at a time. So I tottered off to my local GAA hall to partake in a Zumba class. As a kid I filled most of my spare time prancing around dance studios and local halls, and I have done every form of dance I could get into. I was told that Zumba was the perfect way to keep fit and meet new people. Dance and a natter; I figured it sounded pretty perfect. I went in expecting to find it really easy as I am soooo fit with my size 8 jeans, and it would all be nothing more than some sexy shaking of the hips to latin music and a nice little step around. Boy was I wrong!

When I arrived in I was asked to fill out a form and on the form I was asked 'What is your reason for joining Zumba?', I said to meet new friends, and the guy on the desk looked at me up and down, laughed, and said jokingly 'well it isnt to lose weight'. I thought this a little strange, but as I am a pretty small person, I took no notice. I went into the class, and after 5 minutes I understood why he said that. The word 'calm' does not belong here, nor the word 'sexy', or 'step'. The words I would use are 'intense', 'sweaty', 'hot', and 'challenging'. After 5 minutes of dancing I was a puffing, knackered mess. I was slowly coming to learn that size 8 jeams mean nothing, and I was in fact incredibly unfit. In the few seconds of recovery I had between songs, one of the girls stopped beside me, and I looked at her and said 'tough isnt it?'. She said 'ah ye it is I suppose, but it should be easy enough for a skinny thing like you'. 

There is was. The peer pressure you think when you leave school that you leave behind. I looked around and realised that all of these women, most of whom were older than me and, honestly, bigger than me, were running rings around me. I realised that I had to put my all into this if I was going to come out even close to their stamina. Some of these women were on their second hour of Zumba, and I was struggling with the first 15 minutes. These women are fit, much fitter than me, and as small as I am, the only exercise I had been getting for the past three years was the running totter in heels across the road on a Saturday night. Well by God I threw myself around that hall. I whooped whooped with everyone while jumping and spinning and speed cha cha chaing, and I came out looking far from the sexy I was expecting. The next day, as much as I didnt admit it then, I was in massive amounts of pain. I hadn't felt pain like that since I thought I could handle 45 minutes running on a tread mill with a hangover 2 years ago in college (it was my first time inside a gym. Not a good idea)

Yet, despite the initial shock to the system and the pain every time I climbed a flight of stairs for the rest of the week, I went back. I felt amazing after the second week, and even better this week. The girls there are friendly and we all push through together. I am feeling it getting easier every week as my fitness gets better, and I talk to more new people every week. I guess this time around a bit of peer pressure was what I needed to get the heart going. 

Slán.

If It's Too Good To Be True, Then Logically ......

You know the saying 'if it's too good to be true, it usually is'. Why don't we humans take note of such sayings? We would save ourselves a lot of hassle.

I had my beautiful little Micra stolen from me about two months ago. A nightmare. But out of that nightmare came what I thought was a little ray of pretty blue sunshine in the form of a lovely 2003 Fiat Punto for an incredibly good price. It had recently passed its NCT, had tax, and seemed, as I said above, too good to be true for the price. I am a sucker for a bargain, to my own detriment. I had a few problems with the power steering pump a few weeks after buying it, which I had replaced and 'fixed'. Problem solved, right? Wrong!

Last night I donned the loose clothing and headed off excitedly to my first yoga class. It was a little drive away as it is in the town that I work in rather than live in for convenience sake, due to me being there more than I am home. I stopped off at a post office in a little town along the way, and hopped back into the car full of thoughts of the impending action of standing on my head and my attempts at describing that in this blog, when 'too good to be true' decided to hit me really hard. I put the car into reverse, locked hard on the wheel to turn out, and 'PHEW', something in the wheel blew. Suddenly the wheel went so heavy I could hardly move it an inch, the red wheel light on the dash came on, and any chance of me getting out of the spot let alone to yoga class went out the window.

The high capped boy racers in their zooped up bangers next to me must have thought I was insane as they watched me hit the wheel numerous times with quite substantial force while screaming 'FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK' at the top of my lungs. I then turned to them when I noticed them staring at me and shouted 'WHAT???'. They knew to back off. This was a woman highly scorned.

Numerous calls to the mechanic and a neighbour from heaven later I now find myself at home, 6 miles from the nearest shop, with (most disastrously and to the shock of my boss) no way of getting to work until the 'Rents come home from their elongated siesta in the Puerto Rican sunshine on Friday, unless the mechanic can save the day. But not to fear on the company side! I have two dogs, two cats, 8 hens, 6 chicks and a rooster named Roy to chat to (great listeners the lot of them. Terrible advice givers).

For now, I sit, drink coffee, and hope the mechanic won't have to endure the wrath of a woman scorned. At least a lesson was learned; If it's too good to be true, then it isn't true, its a big fat ball of stress disguised as truth .... Duh. Silly Amy.

Slán.

Life Realignment; Digging Yourself Out Of The Rut.

Its easy to get into a rut. One minute you are living your life, thinking that things literally could not get better, and with one fine swoop and a few drastic decisions, you find yourself relating to Meryl Streep. As strange as that sounds, its very true and will be explained. I have been finding it hard to write about my life and its twists and turns these last few weeks as I simply kept saying 'I have nothing interesting to write about'. Truthfully, I had interesting stuff to write about, I just didn't want to write it as it involved facing a few home truths.

When making the decision to attempt the life of an Irish emigrant, you think of things like food, and fitting in abroad, and missing home. Then you find that it all doesn't go exactly to plan and home isn't where the heart is, its where family is, and you suddenly find yourself looking at 'Failte Abhaile'. Coming home to a country is one thing. Coming home to your old life is another. I know I have previously written about getting back to western life after coming home and facing the rat race and cheese sandwiches, and I really did think that would be the hardest part about coming home. I was wrong. I never really talked, or thought, about how you get your actual life back. You know, that one where you went out with your mates every weekend and went for lunch on weekdays and spent days off in the city. You think when you leave that if you ever decide to come back it will all just be there waiting for you. Coming home to Ireland in it's current situation, the truth is very different.

I was watching 'Its Complicated' earlier tonight, having a few glasses of wine and relaxing on the couch, when I came to a shocking realisation. One of her friends, during a dinner scene, told Streep's character 'If you want your situation fixed (of a sexual nature, or more lack thereof) you need to date someone. Anyone'. Now, although slightly different, I realised I had become Meryl Streep. I was, am, in a rut. I came home after 8 months away to find that my sister had her own life in Dublin's fine capital, my parents were working and living their lives which for 8 months had not included me, and of some my friends had either moved on to jobs or further education in Dublin City, while the majority had simply emigrated in my time jaunting around South East Asia. I now live in an extremely rural town where I know nobody after three years in University and one year abroad, and I spend my days working and my nights sitting on my couch.

Depressing right? Yes. Fixable? Yes. I realised, like Meryl Streep in the cheesy rom com, if I wanted my situation to change, I had to change it myself. Nobody is going to arrive on my doorstep from the US or Oz, or come from Dublin and forget their new friends and life up there, and I couldn't ever expect them to. I need to find a new life. That's the realisation when you come home from a long term absence to your old haunt; you can't get your life back, so you have two choices

1. Sit and wallow in a pool of rosé wine and 'The Late Late Show' feeling pathetically sorry for your 22 year old single self like something out of 'Bridget Jones's Diary'.
or
2. You can get up, wear something else other than your pjs on your day off, actually open the make up bag and do something with your 22 year old single sorry self and throw 'Bridget Jones's Diary' out the window (metaphorically of course. Its not really that bad a movie)

So, I have enrolled myself in a few classes. I have done my research and realised that where I am living may have an opportunity or two for life realignment. I have enrolled myself in a Zumba dance class to get the endorphins going with a bit of cha cha cha and jumping up and down like something possessed, and I have found a yoga class near work to wind down in the evenings. I am also signing up for a fun make-up class next week along with possibly a bit of volunteer work in the locality with some teenagers.

It can be easy to get in a rut. A rut is comfortable. A rut doesn't care if you wear make up, or gain 6 pounds in a week, or check your facebook every 3 minutes out of sheer 'dunno what else to do'. But its lonely. There, I said it. That's what I have been avoiding admitting and writing about. Coming home from an exciting Thai life to live with your parents is against your life expectations and its bloody boring. But, like I have always said, this blog is the truth about life. Its admitting the hard bits because to leave them out isn't reality. So I am donning my tough attitude that so many people know me for and saying to myself

'Ye, you have a problem. So what? Get over yourself and fix it. Then, no more problem.'

Hmmmm. Well, we will see how good that attitude works after 20 counts of 'Tree Pose'.

Slán.

Much Ado About Doolin

'Lets go away for a few days'

How could I say no? Two days home from Kerry my sister arrives into the house on the beginning of her week's holidays from work and suggests the two of us heading off for a few sisterly days down the country. Having never been on holidays alone with my only sibling, I was sceptical, but gone are the days when we couldn't spend two hours together without shouting abuse at each other, and it turns out it was a fantastic two days.

We had been so many times to the popular west coastal town of Galway, and thought a change was in order, so we chose the picturesque little village of Doolin in county Clare. Its a favourite of our parents, and a popular backpacking site for those who wish to see the old Ireland full of misty mountains, old cottages and brick walls that lead to nowhere. We drove down on Thursday morning, and I am not sure what I expected, but what I got was quite surprising. For those of you who haven't been to Doolin, it is tiny, and I mean tiny. Its one street of about 5 pubs, a few cafes and numerous B&Bs and hostels. No shop. No pharmacy. No ATM. No garage. We initially thought we were insane, but it turns out the pubs serve the most gorgeous food and have a great atmospheres at night when all the tourists arrive in to eat stew and listen to what we Irish call diddly idle music (traditional 3 or 4 piece group playing Irish music).

We spent out first day in Lahinch, which saw us braving the Clare mountains in a dense fog. The solution we ingeniously came up with was to follow the large green 'Paddy Wagon' tourist bus which we were convinced for no reason was on the same route as us. We found ourselves on the dangerously windy cliff's of Moher with no idea where we were going and no phone signal to even make a call, let alone get GPS coordinates. Much panic and sub sequential giddyness later we found ourselves in Lahinch, a beautiful seaside town which is known for its incredible surfing beach. Although the weather wasn't exactly in agreement with this claim to fame, and we spent our time sitting in a cafe with a hot cup of tea watching surfers being blown off their boards and laughing cruelly at their attempt to overcome Irish weather.

After a night of tapping to music and drinking far too many glasses of wine, we found ourselves toddling home on a pitch black deserted country road back to our hostel talking to cows we were convinced were humans and being scared by fellow toddlers that we were convinced were cows. Tip; if staying in a hostel anywhere in Ireland that is not in a city, make sure its in some sort of lit village. The 'down the pitch black lane Irish country feel' hostels can threaten your sanity as well as your life.

The following day we headed off to Doolin Cave where we descended 200 or so steps and walked 3kms into the ground to see the biggest stalactite in Europe (for those like me who only see white rocks, stalactites are the ones that hang from the roof .... I think). I have to say, it was pretty impressive, and the guide, although a little overanimated and rehearsed, was very informative and kept the tour interesting despite the simplicity of the cave. We headed on from here with a map from the cave's shopkeeper in search of a house. Now, this is no ordinary house. Oh no. This is Father Ted's house. For those of your who don't know who Father Ted is, shame on you. SHAME. Father Ted was a fantastic comedy tv show which told the antics of two priests on an island off the coast of Ireland. It made clergymen in Ireland look shameful, and made everyone else double over with laughter. After a good 2 hours of driving and consulting a local shop worker, we found the house 4 miles down the smallest road, and suitably stood like idiots in front of it taking pictures while the kids who lived there played hurling in the garden with the dogs.

We went from there on to have lunch at a local lake which is a hidden gem in these parts. There were only a handful of people around, and the view was nothing short of a postcard. We sat ourselves down on some picnic benches and ate our Spar roles and regretted not being elderly-like and bringing a flask of tea.

We finished off our great two days with a shared pizza and a few drinks in one of the locals with a good bout of sisterly gossiping before heading off home the next morning to return to reality. Again, I was shown that a good break away doesn't have to mean planes, trains and automobiles. 2 and a half hours of a journey away is a wealth of beauty and holiday atmosphere, even if it does involve fog, roads to nowhere and Father Ted.

Slán.

A Break Away, In More Ways Than One.

I have been finding it hard to write. I have toyed with the idea of abandoning this blog and leaving it to rest in the waste drawers of the world wide web, as I simply don't know what to do with it. It has turned due to its great success into a travelling blog from my time in Thailand and surrounding countries, and now that I am back in my home country I simply don't know what to write about. I feel like my life has run out of interesting tales. I have been home for three months now, and I have been one of the lucky ones to find permanent work in a stable retail company, but I can't help but feel my feet itching. The monotonous rat race of the western world is all too clear to me now, and coming back to it hasn't been easy. But, if I want to go back to University to do my extra year to become qualified to teach in Ireland and other first world countries, I have to save, and saving means Irish wages. Not really much more of an option. I have however taken a few days of a break to ease the travel itch, and have actually found that you don't have to head to the other side of the world to have a good holiday. I was so blown away with my adventures in SE Asia that I had forgotten what beauty and wonder there are right on my doorstep.

So I took myself three hours down the road to Killarney in County Kerry, where I met up with a friend who is working down there as a graduate geologist. My first port of call was her workplace; Crag Cave just outside Castleisland. I have been to many caves over my time travelling Ireland and England with my parents as a child, but I have to say, this one is simply stunning. Of course, being an English graduate, my knowledge of rocks and such is bordering on Montessori level (there was a lot of 'oooo look at the pretty rock'), but the guides there are so informative and interesting, and the cave is presented so beautifully that I was amazed by it all. The entire set up is quite interesting too, as it serves as an entire day out for the family. They have a good sized playground, an indoor play area, and a really nice area to get food and buy a few nice souvenirs. My favourite part though was their bird show. As I was a VIP .... ye ok not exactly VIP but you know .... I got a one to one encounter with the birds. Unbelievable beautiful creatures. My favourite was a little sandy coloured barn owl who was brilliantly intelligent, but his eagle owl was stunning. Her wingspan was longer than my height, and her eyes were so piercing I could nearly feel her judging my soul. Slightly creepy now I think back on her, but an amazing bird.

From here we went into Killarney and after food found ourselves in a tiny bar named 98. This place was about 4 people wide and about the depth of an average house, but the atmosphere was fantastic. The singer was really versatile and we soon found ourselves singing away with the entire pub to all the typical Irish pub songs. The simple pleasure of knowing every song that comes along and being able to order a Miller!

The next day we spent a bit of time around the town, but soon headed up the mountains in the car. I was taken by my lovely hostess to a place named 'Lady's View'. On the way up I was having serious dejavu, but thought 'one mountain looks like another, right'. Wrong. I must have been 8 or 9 when my parents brought me up that mountain, and the minute I arrived at the viewpoint, I knew exactly where I was. It is impossible to forget the sight up there. All those years I always told people of the most beautiful view on the planet, but I could never remember where it was. I began to believe that I had imagined the whole thing. But no, there it was in blissful high definition, and it was nearly better than I remembered.

After a long drive through the teeny tiny mountain roads we found ourselves in the black valley. This place was the last place in the country to receive electricity, and its not hard to see why that is. It is the most remote and god forsaken place in Ireland. Hidden deep between the mountain range, surrounded by rough rocky land, roads that haven't been altered since they were put in place decades ago, and dozens of sheep, goats and mountain streams, lies the houses of the most insane people on the planet. Its about 30 minutes to any civilisation, with no street lights and bad roads. All I could think of was 'I would not like to get sick here'. You would be dead by the time anyone reached you, that's providing someone around actually notices that they haven't seen you. Considering neighbours are nearly a 10 minute car drive between each other, I highly doubt that possibility. Its peaceful, its primitive, its nearly untouched by humans, and its breathtakingly beautiful, but its also great to go back to reality.

After an amazing mexican dinner in the Ross Hotel, followed by cocktails, beers, and a lot more singing in pubs, we tottered back to our hostel room feeling very light and happy. The following day we headed off to Killorglin where the 400th annual Puck Fair was being held. This basically involved an entire small Irish town shutting down to celebrate a goat. Yes, like a baahing bleating goat. A male one, which they crown (with an actual goat crown) and place him up three stories on a scaffolding for three days where people can see him sit and chew. It is all connected to a story where the town was about to be invaded and a goat warned the town of the incoming invaders and saved the people. Now its more about the stalls and pet show and less about the goat. But overall, its a great place to be. The atmosphere is great, especially in the sunshine, and the streets are filled with the sound of children. Irish trad music leaks out from the numerous pubs, and mixes with the sounds of pounding feet as the hundreds of people in the packed bars stamp their feet to the music. The place looks great with all its flowers and everyone is in a fantastic mood.

From here we took a long drive up through the Conor Pass which has the most amazing coastal road looking out onto the Inis islands. There was a lot of taking pictures out of moving cars and squeezing past brand new rental cars driven by French people who were questioning their own sanity for driving up there. From there it was back to reality as I had to drive home to be in work the next day.

Coming home though, I had three hours alone to think, and it occured to me how we always seem to think that something different is better than what we have already. When we think holiday, we think in Celtic Tiger mode , which means sun, sand, sea. But why does this have to be 4000 kms away? We have that here ..... ok so the sun is rare, but we have a lot to offer. Ireland is genuinely the most beautiful country I have ever seen. Its breathtakingly stunning in so many ways.

I realised that this is what my blog is about. Its not just about Thailand, or Cambodia, or Vietnam. Its like it says on the tin; 'Wilde Child of the Celtic Tiger'. I am the generation who is crawling into adulthood post booming economy. I am the one finding my way, and realising that the life I was promised of money and nice holidays and a good career is all gone. Its now taxes on taxes, trebled cost of education, reform of social ideas, a country that is in a worse state than it has ever been in, and its my job to adjust to that. I was born in the Celtic Tiger (Irelands most successful economic time), and now its gone. We need to adjust, and whether that adjusting involved going to Thailand for 8 months in search of a better life, or holidays for three days three hours down the road to get away from a rat race, its adjusting and it has to be done. This blog will continue, and it will continue to tell the story of one girl surrounded by change. Everyday this country is changing, is fighting, and this blog is my story of it.

Slán.

Tips and Tricks Part Three; Classroom Survival

Firstly, I apologise for the lateness of this blog. I did promise it the other day, but I have found myself a nice little job (finally) and have been working like a little Irish trojan. I have finally gotten around to writing a mini survival guide for your classes if you are heading off to teach in Thailand in the future. Lets get started.

Firstly, lets get a sense of the classroom situation. If you are working, like I was, in a normal government funded school, you will be looking at a pretty basic classroom. The room will be choc-a-bloc with desks to the point that there is nowhere to move them to if you want to do any activities, and you will probably not have air conditioning. Don't worry, its not as bad as it sounds. Yes there will be days where you will feel like you are cooking from the outside in, but welcome to Thailand. Usually when it got particularly bad I would just not move about as much, give them a worksheet, and hand one of them 5 baht and say 'go get Teacher Amy water'. They always like to be helpful. You will probably have about 40 to 55 children in a class, and if its a pretty big school you could be teaching a large number of children in a week. I was teaching about 900 students a week as I taught 22 different classes. I only had each class once a week, but most people would teach classes numerous times a week. I know 900 students seem like a colossal amount but it was kind of handy as I only had to do two main lesson plans for the two years I taught, and I adjusted them accordingly depending on the proficiency of the class. With regards to resources, you will have access to printers and paper, and you could probably put in for art supplies or special resources for classes if your school has a bit of money. Mostly, you make do with worksheets to support stuff you put on the board or get them to simply say. You may or may not have a curriculum. I had absolutely no curriculum at all, and it was difficult and involved a lot of googling for worksheets and classroom ideas. Hopefully you will have a curriculum.

For discipline tips, I have only one main one. Don't ever shout. Shouting is alien to them. Thai people, as I have said in other blogs before, don't deal at all with confrontation and shouting at your students will not have any productive effect. Silence is your best friend. Whenever my kids acted up, especially the younger ones (12/13), I would stand at the top of the class, put the top on the board marker and stand with my arms crossed staring them down. When they finally nudged each other quiet, I would ask 'finished?' with a 'I am not taking any rubbish' look. If you stare them out of it they get so freaked they just stay quiet. No shouting needed. I also did punish them, but it was hard as they didn't understand the words 'punishment', 'detention', or 'you are in trouble'. I, again, stared them down, then I made them stand up in front of the whole class and I would fire questions at them with the 'I am not taking any rubbish' look. They soon learned the consequences of annoying me, and I found my classes were very manageable. Honestly, I found the older ones to be pretty easy. They more had the 'I couldn't be bothered' attitude, but with a bit of persistence and a few fun classes that attitude soon disappeared. 

The trick with all the classes, whatever age you teach, is to make them fun. You have to understand that many of the kids going to highschools in Thailand don't have to be there. Lots of the children come from very poor backgrounds and they could be of use at home or working, but instead they chose to come to your class. To make it worth their while you should make the classes as fun as possible. I used to use games such as chinese whispers (but just call it whispers. The 'Chinese' bit is too hard to explain), hangman (but don't actually hang him. I used to draw him in a box), bingo, x/o, and categories. To explain categories, its simply splitting your board in two, and write the alphabet in vertical lines down the two boards. Then come up with a theme, maybe 'food' or 'countries' and in two teams they had to think of as many items in that theme beginning with all the letters of the alphabet in 3 minutes. They love competition and getting them to all crowd around the board helping each other out and spelling all the words out was great. Also whenever I taught a new song I would stick the lyrics around the room, and in pairs they would have to put the lyrics in order. One would run, read, and come back and whisper it to their partner, and the other would write it down. I would then go on to add to the lyrics on the board and teach the song. They like Lady Gaga, One Direction, and Justin Bieber. Not great English, I know, but the trick is to get them to understand and speak, and making it relevant and interesting is half the battle.

Finally, and I know they say don't use any Thai in your class in the TEFL training, but I say otherwise. I am not saying have massive conversations, that's near impossible when it comes to westerners and Thai, but I learned a few phrases and they helped me a huge amount. I was asking the students 'do you understand' in English, and they were all saying 'Yes', and then I would realise half way through that they didnt understand a single thing. I learned how to ask 'do you understand' in Thai and I got honest answers, and it made things a lot easier. To ask it, its easy. 'Cow jai mai?' That's it. And yes is 'Chai', and no is 'Mai'. The kids always got a kick out of my little attempt at Thai. I also learned to word for homework, which is 'ganban', which solved the whole problem of the students not understanding that I wanted something done for homework, and quiet is 'neeam' with the emphasis on the neee bit. Oh, also, to shush kids, don't actually shush. They dont see saying 'shhhhh' as be quiet. They will simply just copy you and laugh. You have to tut tut tut at them, like you do when someone does something disgraceful in the west. Not actually saying the word 'tut', but the sound of a tut ....You get what I mean. 

So, there is your classroom survival kit. I hope some of it comes in handy, and I hope these three blogs have made things a little clearer about working and living in Thailand. If you have any more questions, or want me to do any more blogs on specific things, please pop me an email (see info over there :-) ------> )

Slán.

Tips and Tricks Part Two; Taking on Thai Life

When I was heading over to Thailand I remember having this idea of some calm serene country filled with beautiful buildings and cute kids in rough clothes on bikes, with the air filled with sweet smells of spice and incense. I thought of the people as being calm and logical people who live by all these buddhist parables and thought provoking statements that we see all over facebook. The reality, as always, was very different. I think its important to have a realistic view of the country you are planning to move over to before you go.

Don't get me wrong, its a really lovely country, but its more filled with the smell of food rotting in the relentless heat, the streets are more grimy than beautiful, and the buddhist religion in reality is not what we perceive it to be in the west. Its a religion based on money and questionable morals, the same as majority of religions in the present day.

Honestly though, all that you get used to. It becomes normal. What people going over have to get their heads around is that Thailand is not the West. I know that is an extremely 'duh' sentence, but so many people go over there not realising the weight that the statement brings. Things don't work over there like they do here. When deciding to work on another continent you have to be very open minded and flexible about the way people live, their laws, their professional conduct, and their attitude to society in general.

For an example, and this sounds harsh but its true; your school will most likely tell you to pass your students even if they never show up in your class. I know this sounds ridiculous to us, but in Thailand nobody is ever shamed or loses face. Everybody works as a community, and in your classroom there is very little room for personal failure. You simply have to put pass marks after every child's name. This is normal and you simply have to accept it.

Secondly, the school pretty much has the idea that you are their teacher 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Your school will show up to your door at 7pm on a Saturday night without any warning telling you that you must attend a party where you sit, understand nothing, and look pretty simply because you are white and they want to show off their white teacher. They are fascinated with white people and white skin. It gets very creepy sometimes I have to say. There is very little point in saying 'no' to these 'invitations'. They don't take no for an answer. You are pretty much a show piece for your school as much as you are a teacher. Don't get me wrong, they will treat you very well, but they expect a lot more from you than Western employers do. The trick is to leave your town at weekends so you simply cannot go to another dinner.

Expect that in Bangkok and other big cities, you will be charged maybe two or three times more for things than locals are. They consider you a 'farang', which mean white person, and they see your race as a wealthy one and they will scam you. Trick is to bargain everything down with an incredibly low starting offer, and then accept that you will still be ripped off. They have no concept of racism, and they will talk about you in Thai in front of you, referring to you as 'farang', and there is no point in thinking 'racism', because the concept of racism is literally incomprehensible to them.

Expect everything to not work. Trains and buses can just randomly not leave with no real explanation. Your school will organise something and then cancel it 10 minutes before for no reason. They will also spring classes on you and just tell you to 'teach' with no notice. They will cancel your classes and not tell you. This is just the way things are done, and nobody else except you will be surprised or have a problem with it.

Oh and one pretty big thing. They do not do fighting at all. Arguments NEVER happen, If you shout at a Thai person, expect them to either stand dumbfounded like they have just seen you murder someone, or even just run away. Talking in a calm low voice, making everything sound cheery and light is the only way to do things. Even with your students. Shouting at them makes no sense to them and it will only make your classes a million times worse (more about discipline and teaching in tomorrow's post).

Also, and this is more for girls than guys, their perception of women is very different to the West. For me, they couldn't understand how I was 22 and single and not tied at home under my parents control until I was married. I could never show my shoulders, EVER (resulted in a serious farmer's tan), and I couldn't show my knees. Women, especially white women, should never be seen smoking, and drinking is extremely frowned upon, especially in small towns. If you are in Bangkok, it doesn't really matter, but where I was I couldn't even buy alcohol without all my colleagues knowing from gossip. I was set up numerous times with Thai men at work parties and dinners, and was shouted at, whooped at, and followed by random men in the streets because I was a young woman and white. You just have to be very aware of your surroundings, and never trust the men. Thai people are incredibly friendly and flawlessly helpful, but just always be aware that many men have a massive fascination with white women, so just always be on the alert, especially if you are travelling or wandering around alone.

Finally, as a warning to those of you who are fond of Christmas. There is NO Christmas in Thailand. I cannot stress this enough, because although many people know this coming over, they go in search of Christmas dinners and Christmas atmosphere and it results in massive disappointment. It doesn't exist in Thailand, and you have to realise that there is no Christmas for the time you are away. Yes, it will be the hardest time away, but again its all about attitude. For me, I realised that its one day. I talked to my family on skype, I made a nice dinner for myself and my housemates, many of my friends in different towns bought in different food to usual, and you have a little cry and maybe open a present that your parents sent you, and then you go teach your normal day and move on. You have to put it in context and be an adult about it. One Christmas is not worth missing out on your Thai experience.

I know all of this probably sounds very negative, but the way you take this all depends on your attitude going over there. Things are different, and one more Western person is not going to make any difference to the way these people live. They have lived this way for literally hundreds of years. Thai's are nothing if not fond of tradition. When working there, you have to take on the Thai way of living, and they live by one phrase; Mai Pen Rai. This simply means 'no worries'. They never ever get stressed, and you have to do the same with everything they throw at you.  You wither take on this attitude or live with constant anger and slight insanity. I always say it to all the people who email me; If you want things to be like the west, stay in the west. So stay positive, take it all as it comes, and when stressed repeat 'Mai Pen Rai' about four hundred times while swigging from a bottle of Sangsom (thai rum).That always helps ;-)

Thailand Tips and Tricks Part One; Before Jetting Off.

I have been getting a lot of emails lately from people who are signing up to be teachers in Thailand in the next coming months, or are already over there and are starting their jobs and are slightly terrified of their classes. I have decided to do a few blogs about simply the little things that I left out of my blogs while I was in Thailand; tips before you go, what to expect, daily life and customs, teaching tips. This one will deal with just the before you go section of things.

So one of the first question I get from people is about what to bring over there that may not be available when you get over. To be honest, a lot of the essentials are available over there, with slight brand variations obviously. But, there are some things you cannot get for love nor money for some unknown ridiculous reason. One is deodorant with antiperspirant. You can get it in the big shopping centres, but if you were like me and you lived in the Thai equivalent of Timbuktoo, it can be very hard to find. I brought over four massive cans of dove antiperspirant and they lasted me a long time. Trust me though, you use a lot over there, especially during dry season (end of October to May). Another thing you should bring is an extension plug. So handy when you only have one adaptor and you want to dry your hair while charging you phone. Also, and this one is for the girlies, for some reason its impossible to get tampons there. If you use them, bring heaps and get your mother to send you over more. Same for normal pads. The ones there are some old fashioned industrial sized things. Lots of 'Always', lots and lots. Also girlies, every product is laden with whitening cream over there, so if you have a moisturiser you like, bring it with you. For the boys, bring the razorheads you use if you are fussy. The brands are very different over there, or so I am told by the man friends. Oh and I was also told by contact lense users to make sure you bring lots of contact lenses and solution over with you. Its apparently very hard to find and the brands aren't reliable. Finally, if you are packing, home comforts are good. I brought a picture of my family, and an Irish teddy, and a box of tea bags. You cant get proper tea bags there at all unless you are in a very touristy place and are willing to pay a good bit for a cuppa.

The main don't with packing is don't overdo the size of the suitcase. Pack clothes to do you for a week or two, and shop when you get there. Nothing is worse than lugging a massive suitcase around if you travel (trust me, hostels have LOTS of stairs) and the clothes are so cheap and suited to the climate there. You could get a whole outfit for the cost of a t-shirt here. Save your money and your back, go backpack and leave the suitcase at home.

Another question I get is 'should I learn Thai before I go over?'. Simply put, Thai is incredibly difficult. I am pretty good at picking up languages, and yes I picked up more than some people I encountered working there, but it took a lot of work. Before you go I would say your best bet is to learn numbers up to 1000. Its not as hard as it sounds. Once you learn 1 to 20, its easy enough after that. They are structured like English numbers. Numbers are essential to everyday life as many things are sold in markets and have no price tags. Also learn simple phrases like how much, hello, thank you, my name is, yes, no and too expensive. When dealing with the students, learn the words for homework, do you understand, and how to recognise questions (questions have the word 'mai (my)' at the end of them)

Now for the slightly teary part; the airport. For me, this was the most difficult part of my entire experience. I dreaded it so much for the few weeks before I left. Expect your mother to cry, no matter how much of a toughie she is. The thing is, you have to be the tough one out of them all. Its so easy to get scared and turn around and just go home, because leaving is scary, I am not going to lie to you. But the trick is to be blunt and quick about it. Get to the gate, don't hang around thinking about it, say quick goodbyes to each of your family members, tell them you love them, and then grab your bag, put one foot in front of the other, and don't look back. All I remember was literally telling my feet to step one in front of the other, otherwise I would have stopped and gone home. When you get through the gate, wander or chat to someone if you are travelling together. Go get a drink. Whatever you do, do not sit and think and worry. You will end up texting your parents to tell them to turn around and take you home.

Finally, yes, you will think you are mad. It personally hit me on the plane to Abu Dhabi when I realised I couldnt turn the plane around, and I was physically sick with fear the whole way over. It is terrifying, you will think 'what the hell have I done', and you will want to give it all up. Don't. The feeling of madness subsides when you realise what you have arrived to. It will genuinely be life changing.

Tomorrow I will do a blog on what to expect from Thailand on a day to day basis.

Slán.

How I Missed Cheese Sandwiches; Surviving Coming Home

I am quite aware that my life at home now is no longer half as interesting as a week ago when I was half way across the other side of the world. But, none the less, I thought I should keep this blog updated as to my doings and what teachers/travelers should expect upon heading back to their real world. I must admit, I slotted back into it a lot faster than I expected, but still, there are little things that you notice that you paid no attention to before you left. As I know a lot of teachers read this, here are a few tips on how to adjust to coming home.

Obviously, when you arrive home from 37 degrees in Asia, the first thing you notice is the cold. Nothing can prepare you for that blast of cold air that seems to live in the tiny crevice between the plane door and the attaching walky thing ..... ye, bad English, I know. Anyway, Tip #1, try wear shoes that you can wear socks with. I arrived home to Dublin Airport at 7am in a pair of flip flops, a strap top and a pair of those baggy colourful Thai material trousers. Not good for the aul bones with the wind chill ... brrrrrr.

Tip #2. Expect to deal with emotional family. There is something about airports that bring out the tears in even the toughest of men, and trust me, the sight of your family after 17 hours on planes and no sleep will make you a little crazy. I personally felt that I was in some strange dream, as lack of sleep can't seem to make sense of all the familiar accents and smells and people. It's almost like you expect to hit an 'end call' button, find yourself looking at a skype screen and head back downstairs to finish cooking your rice.

Tip #3; The amazement of western food. Upon arriving home, try to control your hunger. Now, it doesnt matter how much airplane food you ate on the way over. When you arrive in and suddenly find yourself surrounded by all the western foods that you have been desperately dreaming of for the past 7 months, it is so tempting to stuff yourself with the whole lot. Your stomach, which is used to rice and veg, will not thank you. Try to hold a little self control ..... although the cheese usually wins .... you can't say no to the cheese.

Tip #4; Jet lag. You will not be able to avoid it so don't even try. The trick is to ride out the day until it comes to normal going to bed time. For me, this meant 43 hours with no sleep as I arrived home early morning, and by 9pm I was on the brink of insanity with my desire for my beautiful soft bed, but it helps you get back to a normal system. If you go to bed mid day you will find that by 10pm your body will think its some strange time of the morning and not want to sleep. Ride it though.

Tip#5; Reality. Finally, and most importantly, its important to understand that you are now a worthless unemployed emotional mess who will spend your days watching Jeremy Kyle and talking to your cat while the rest of your family go about their normal lives. Tough truth, but a truth none the less. The trick is not to care. You have just arrived back from hopefully the most incredible thing you have ever done, and guess what? Its ok to do nothing until you find yourself a job. Sleep, eat, sit, talk to the cat (I am sure she missed someone to watch Jeremy Kyle with) and don't overthink it. Give yourself at least a week or two to see everyone you want to see, chat to the family, get used to the food again, to the surroundings, and then think about how to become a productive human being and not some smelly tanned hungover post-student with a big bag. Hold on to that tan as long as possible, because you never know when you will get the chance to get one again.

Oh, and one last thing, print out pictures and stick them in your room. After a few days of the same world you left 7 months ago, its easy to forget what an absolutely incredible thing you did. Waking up to a reminder of the world beyond the garden gate will brighten any morning .... and have you unconsciously googling ozzie work visas, US Summer camp jobs, and inter-railing ....

Slán

The Beginning of Another Chapter

Sometimes in life there comes a point where you have to decide between two things you really want. You know you cannot have both, no matter how much you want both, and each have pros and cons that equal each other, but you know you have to chose one. I have been feeling like that about travelling for the last few weeks. I really love travelling and seeing places, but I have been away from home for 8 months, and I suddenly started to feel every day in those 8 months. I was missing home, and no matter how much you try to ignore that feeling, it never really leaves you alone.

It was 11.13am, and I was standing on a corner of another noisy traffic filled street in Ho Chi Minh last Thursday. I had been looking for the War Remnants Museum for about 2 hours, and every map said a different place, and every local (well the ones that would help) pointed me in a wrong direction and laughed as I set off. My head hurt from all the pointless beeping of traffic, I nearly lost my life crossing the road at least three times, and I couldnt get a decent bit of Vietnamese food if my life depended on it. Suddenly, standing there, I was done. I had hit the point of no return, and the result was in fact return. I went back to my hostel, got in touch with my travel agency in Dublin, and changed my flight home from the 6th of June to ..... well ... today. I am writing this from a completely overpriced restaurant in Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok. I arrived here on a flight from Ho Chi Minh yesterday.

Now those of you who read this blog pretty regularly are probably thinking 'why go home. Travelling is amazing'. You are right. Travelling is amazing. But family and home is also amazing, and sometimes you want that more than to see a temple or sit on a beach or visit a museum. Sometimes you have feel you have been away so long that all you want is to give your sister a hug. So, I am doing what I want more, and I am going home.

My time in SE Asia, particularly Thailand, has been without a doubt the greatest time of my life. I have learnt so much about myself, and about other cultures and ways of living.I have the most amazing memories, and I have seen the most incredible things. I will return to Asia. I know that without a doubt, as there is sooooo much more I want to do that my budget and my homesickness just couldn't handle this time around.

I intend to continue writing on this blog, as I have many more TEFL experiences and travelling planned, and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading this blog as much as I enjoy writing it.,

This is not the end. Its only the beginning of another chapter.

Go raibh míle maith agat.

Slán.

Change of Plan; Visiting the Lighthouse Orphanage, Phnom Penh

Intent on being a true tourist, I set out the day before yesterday to explore the royal palace and a temple or two in Phnom Penh. As usual in Asia, things didnt go as planned.

I arrived just outside the royal palace to find it closed for the next hour and 45 minutes for lunch (who needs two hours for lunch??) and I also was shocked to discover that all tourist places in the area were the same. Standing at the side of the road clutching my map of the city and looking completely lost, a tuk tuk driver sees an opportunity and comes over. He offers to take me for a tour of the city where he will explain all the historical buildings and show me all aspects of the city outside of the tourist areas. Intrigued but slightly cautious, I got on. Driving on, I was thinking about how much damage I would do to myself if, in case of kidnapping, I needed to throw myself from a moving tuk tuk (which doesnt actually move that fast), and whether I would bring or leave the slightly bulky handbag. Truly though, I had no need to worry. The driver was lovely and showed me parliament buildings and the street of embassies and then went on to show me the slums of the city and the local market areas where absolutely no tourists were about.

As we were driving along, I commented on his great level on English, and he told me that he teaches English on a Friday and Saturday to children in an orphanage in the city. He talked about them for a while, and about how he himself was a orphan and he was taught English in his orphanage with his siblings. He asked me whether I would like to visit the orphanage and see how it all works. I knew myself that the hope was that I would volunteer my services as an English teacher. I was a little wary at first, as I suppose being western you have these images of Asian orphanages as dreary awful places. I was threatened oe or twice as a kid with being put in an orphanage if I was really bold, and from simply watching 'Annie' my idea of orphanages was not a pleasant one.

Still, I figured life should be seen from all angles as much as possible, and what's the point in ignoring the reality of a city just because of my high western ideals. So, off I went. I knew that a donation would be expected, but when I asked the driver he said that a donation of a bag of rice would be a good idea as the 89 children in the orphanage can eat 50 kilos of rice a day over their three meals. Armed with my bag of rice, I arrived. I am glad to say it was nothing like what I expected. The buildings could do with some extensions, but they have a good playground donated by the Israeli Embassy, and a few good sized classrooms and a music room. They have a large dining area, and a vegetable patch (that is unfortunately a little sparse in vegetables) The bedrooms were pretty cramped I have to say, but the children overall were really friendly and full of smiles.

The man who showed me around told me about how the orphanage is run on donations and volunteers. They get no help from the government, but are in need of new rooms for sleeping, and some money to get some seeds for planting and clothes for the children. They cater for children between the ages of 5 and 18, and teach them two subjects; English and IT. He says these are the best subjects for the children to get jobs from after leaving the orphanage at 18. He explained about how some get scholarships and some manage to find jobs, but I saw myself that things do not look too hopeful for the children as they enter the adult world. Its easy to notice the drug problems in Cambodia, with I myself getting approached three times with offers of every drug going for about 10 dollars a bag. Apparently its a popular western pastime here.It wouldn't take much to push children into this sort of life.

I left feeling not depressed or sad, but I did feel lucky and privileged. I ended up not seeing the Royal Palace in the end as I spent the following day pretty sick from a bout of dehydration (all my own fault I know). Being sick in any way in this heat is a killer, let alone being sick because of the heat. So I have now arrived in Ho Ci Minh city in south Vietnam, but I will leave all that madness for another blog.

Sawatdiikha.

ps. If anyone wants to know any more about the orphanage I visited, the name is Lighthouse Orphanage in Phnom Penh.

Phnom Penh; Pot and Potatoes

Being in Thailand for so long, I had become used to the views, the language, the food and the overall culture. I suppose you could say that I got a bit bored of it all. It lost its magic. By the time I was travelling after my teaching, I continued to feel a sense of boredom. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing Thailand and I had a lot of fun, but the WOW factor was gone. I had forgotten that feeling of discovery. That feeling that you have experienced something new and alive.

I arrived in Cambodia expecting the WOW factor from Angkor Wat, and I did get that, but I came to Phnom Penh for one thing, and that was my visa to Vietnam. My plan was to see a bit of the city, but I suppose you could say I didnt really plan on enjoying it too much. Again, as with Chiang Rai, I was proven wrong. This city just has the greatest charm to it. It suffers great poverty, that is clear, and there does seem to be a bit of a problem with drugs in places, but I cant help but love the place. Just off the main roads with its mad traffic and noisy horns are little narrow streets filled with nice houses, offices, coffee shops and little businesses, all who keep their land full of green trees and bushes. Its such a contrast to the brown scorched earth of the poor village areas outside the city.

Yes you get slightly harassed by tuk tuk drivers, and the food is a good bit more expensive than other less populated areas of Cambodia, but the drivers are friendly and understand the word no, and the food is delicious no matter where you go.

But this city wasn't always a bustling centre of coffee cafe's and brilliant food. This city has suffered greatly. Today myself and a fellow traveller rented a scooter and took off to visit the infamous Killing Fields just outside the city. To make it short and quite brutally simple,in the 1970s a man named Pol Pot had an image of a 'pure' Cambodian society, so he took his brutal army of men and slaughtered a quarter of the population who didn't fit his image of a simple agricultural society. This involved anyone who was highly educated, who could speak a different language, any city dwellers who didnt know anything about farming, and anyone who didnt agree with him. His army of killers; The Khmer Rouge, took the thousands of people to many locations around Cambodia, bludgeoned and hacked them to death in the most horrible ways imaginable , and buried them in mass graves. How this was left out of my history degree I will never know. But I went today to see one of these places. I have to say, it was a very peaceful place for the atrocities that occurred there. I didnt take any pictures. I for some reason lost my appetite to capture everything around me. I don't think a picture would do this place justice anyway. Its one of those places where you have to feel it. Its the knowledge of what happened here thats harrowing more than the place itself. It does contain a massive memorial which holds the skulls of hundreds of dead who were never identified, and that is shocking. Also it holds examples of the clothes which were discovered with the people, and the childrens' clothes really make reality the horror and complete inhumane actions that people are capable of. What is worse is that Pol Pot was never punished for this actions, and lived in wealth and comfort until his dying day in 1998. It is a hard thing to visit, but I think it is appropriate, respectful, and I think it is important for people to know about these things.

Following this, we tottered back to reality and dodged our way through Phnom Penh's slightly scary traffic and found a nice Irish pub. We settled down to an early dinner of western goodiness; I myself choosing a cottage pie filled with lovely and highly missed mashed potato. The simple things that make us backpackers happy. We managed to make it back to the hostel before the heavens opened to let a thunder storm through. It seems that the rains are coming a few weeks earlier than expected. I thought that I could partly avoid the rainy season by finishing my travelling in June, but it doesnt look like nature likes my plan.

Tomorrow, a walk around the city to visit the Royal Palace, a silver pagoda (kind of like a temple) and a museum or two. There will be more pictures next time. I felt a little shaky taking pictures from the back of a scooter driven by an over enthusiastic Brit.

Sawatdiikha.

The Amazement of Angkor Wat

After spending a day lounging in the hostel and wandering around Siem Reap city, I started out early on Thursday morning with my tuk tuk driver to discover the Wonder of the World that is the Angkor Wat temple complex. At his advice, we decided to leave the actual Angkor Wat temple until last, and took off to a few of the smaller ones to begin with. I have to say, with the help of a guide book borrowed from the hostel, its not hard to be wowed by these amazing structures.

Just a fews tip for anyone who is reading this and planning to go to Angkor Wat. Bring water, nab a guide book from somewhere, or even better an actual guide. Also wear comfortable shoes (the Khmer's didnt think ahead to flip flips when building their steps), and don't wear skimpy clothes. These are temples in Asia, and respect is a big thing, so cover your shoulders and wear clothes that go below your knee. If you go in your short shorts and strap top, expect to get nasty comments from passing by locals and be refused entry to some temples.

First, a slight bit of history to just get the idea of what Angkor Wat is. The city of temples were built in the 12th century, and spanned a number of Kings before they were completed. Angkor Wat itself is built on an island surrounded by a moat, and represents the structure of the universe as they believed it to be at the time. The temples were originally Hindu, but as Buddhism grew in the country, the temples were altered to the Buddhist religion. It was captured by the jungle after it was abandoned and was reconstructed and rebuilt in the 2000s.

Now that speedy gonzales history lesson is done,onto the temples. The first stop was Bayon, which is a maze of stone columns with faces on all four sides. From the outside it looks absolutely amazing and so impressive. On this temple, as with majority of temples in the complex, there are magnificent carvings showing old Indian stories and legends. The detail on these are incredible, although can be pretty repetitive. There is a LOT of wars between armies that all look exactly the same. Still though, the sheer scale and detail of the carvings are incredible.

Next I asked the driver to take a little detour from the main road and head off the the little visited Ta Nei. The book I had recommended a visit, but I didnt realise how little visited it was. Ten minutes of rickety driving down a dirt track led us to this tiny ruined temple in the middle of the forest, and I was the only person there! It was amazing. Bar a few props on the remaining walls, the temple remained as it was found, and is clearly a part of the nature of the jungle now. There was no sound of cars or people, only birds and lizards. Amazing. 

After this we were back to the crowds and what seems like millions of Asian tourists with millions of cameras. We headed off to one of the most famous temples; Ta Phrom. This temple was purposely left covered in jungle trees and in ruins to show people how the temples were found. It was made famous by the Tomb Raider series where Lara Croft fights her way through a temple overgrown with trees. It was stunning I have to say. I managed to escape the tour groups for a while as I looked around the outer area of the temple while the tours focus inside the maze of fallen walls and trees within the temple. 

Finally, we headed to the world famous Angkor Wat. This place is incredible. Its fully restored and the carvings are so clear, and with a guide book its easy enough to follow them and the stories that go with them. The thought alone that such a massive structure was built with no mechanical help. It was built with the sheer physical power of thousands of workers. Its high arched roofs give it a really elegant look compared to many of the temples before it, and the sheer length of the front building creates a 'wow' from everyone who sees it. Many of the statues are still in a ruin from the Khmer sack of the temples during the 1970s, but the feel of the place is still there. I went back this morning to view the sun rise behind the temple, and it was stunning (sorry no pics of that yet. I am too lazy to leave my hammock and climb down two flights of stairs to get the camera lead). 

So tonight I say goodbye to Siem Reap and take a 6.5 hour overnight bus to the capital Phnom Penh. Here I plan on seeing a good bit about the terror of the Khmer Rouge era, and also get my visa for Vietnam sorted to I can head off across another border next week. 

Sawatdiikha.