Spring Break Part I

Midterms.

Need I say more?

Yes I should, because even though midterms are midterms, and everyone must take them, they were perhaps, the bane of my existence.  Ok, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but everything that could go wrong last week did. 


1.  Laundry ruined a majority of my clothes...including my northface (aka my only warm jacket here)
2. Laptop broken, had one of three papers due tomorrow finished on it.
3. While writing a different paper, finishing up the bibliography, school computer shuts down, and I have to rewrite that paper.
4.  On the way home from an onsight class, I saw the police getting on and off buses checking for tickets, so I walked home.  in the rain. (ok, for this one I guess I could have sucked it up and bought a ticket)
5. The actual Midterms (which turned out to be not so bad)
6. Many more things not worth mentioning, because this was all last week before my wonderful spring break.

Anyway by Thursday my only hope was to find a four leaf clover or to meet a leprechaun.  And I feared my plane crashing, lost baggage, or any other travel mishaps.  Well spoiler alert: no four leaf clover or leprechaun, but I had an AMAZING spring break in Ireland and Scotland!

Thursday Night

Our flight to Dublin got in pretty late on Thursday, we got on a shuttle into the city...and small world...I ran into a friend who is studying in Paris.  Once we find our hostel (pretty nice: clean, lockers, comfortable, good location), we threw our stuff down and headed for our first true Irish pub in the Temple Bar area.  There was live music and plenty of people with brogues!

A Cup of Tea
Friday Morning
Dublin

Now bare with me, because this next part is about my Mercy education and my love for my nuns.  Mother McAuley  started the Sisters of Mercy and opened up her house on Baggot Street in Dublin.  There's really no use in trying to explain the Mercy obsession, because you already understand it if you're a McAuley girl, and you never will if you're not.  Anyway, three of the other girls I went to Dublin with went to Mercy schools (2 in Philly and 1 in Buffalo).  I also met up with my friend, Brigid, who went to McAuley with me, and now rows with me at Marquette (she's studying in Dublin this semester).   We awkwardly rang the doorbell, and the sweetest nun showed us around.

Outside the Mercy House on Baggot Street in front of Catherine McAuley

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The chapel was built by Catherine, well she was present while it was being built.  It was a really pretty chapel with a gorgeous organ.  The Cross shown below is made of the jewelry that the women who entered the order donated.  Donated probably isn't the best word, because they had to give it up, but you get the idea.  Also in various parts of the house is her tea set (sharing a cup of tea is part of HOW WE TELL THE STORY), her prayer book, her pew in which she prayed.

Jewelry Cross

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She is buried outside, on her tombstone inside the mausoleum are the words of the suscipe.

Mother Catherine McAuley's grave

Another sister came out to show us the first Mercy school (very cool), the infirmary where Catherine died, and the room in which she lived.  Then she took us to a small gift shop where I was able to buy a postcard for my nunnies back home.  It probably sounds dumb to any of you still reading this section that don't know why I love McAuley so much, but it was a very cool experience, and my high school years came flying back to me (cause you know I'm just so old now).



"THERE IS POETRY IN EVERY PINT OF GUINNESS"

After the lovely excursion to the Mercy House, we walked around in some of the shops for a bit.  Hit up the grocery store to buy loaves of bread and jars of peanut butter to feed us for the week.  (Peanut Butter is an essential food that Italy is missing, but it definitely saved us some money in Ireland.)

We also briefly stopped at St. Patrick's Cathedral, the Dublin Castle,  and Christ Church.  I give you full permission to call me cheap, but I didn't go into St. Patrick's...The main reason was I heard it was more inspiring from outside, and I peeked in, and I have to agree.   Picture to come.

I'll flip this around too, but one of the really interesting parts of the factory was all of the old equipment...they even have some of the original yeast on display.

Then we met up with the rest of the group (There were ten of us total) at the Guinness Storehouse to do the legendary Guinness tour.  I honestly was very impressed by the tour.  I learned more about the brewing of guinness than I ever thought I would.  You were even allowed to taste the roasted barley.  To me, it tasted like a mixture of coffee and burnt popcorn, but left a funny after taste (the barley, not the guinness). 
The tour was very detailed, like I said, except that it wasn't a guided tour, you made it what you wanted.  My favorite floor was the advertisement floor.  It showed all the old advertisements.  I took lots of pictures, but don't worry, I'll only put up a few. 

This one reminded me of rowing for obvious reasons.  If only the coaches trained us in this way.

This is on the fourth floor, right near where the free tasting was.

On the fourth floor there was free Guinness tasting (about 1/4 of a pint), and at the end of the tour at the Gravity bar you could claim your free pint.  I just had a few tastes, but it was good.

The day in Dublin wasn't over yet, we went out for a dinner at a Pub together.  It was more restauranty than pubish though, and I got myself a nice bowl of soup. 

Mind Boggling Facts

1.  Arthur Guinness signed the lease for the building for 9000 years.  That is absolutely true, and you can see the paperwork as soon as you enter the factory.

2.  My new life plan is to marry an Irishman (well that's not new, the new part is, I will be very content being a potato farmer's wife.  I'm sure my mom could teach me to whip up some mean mashed potatoes).  I just hope that field pays off my student loans.

3.  The Harp.

Again, I'll flip, but this harp just reminded me of Nana in Oak Lawn, so I took a picture, and since it's in Ireland that made it even better.  You probably are thinking, if you aren't family, that my Nana played the harp, but one day we were playing scattegories at her dining room table (I was probably sitting on a towel so I wouldn't ruin her chairs) and the letter was "H" and the phrase was "something you'd hide under your bed".  Nana said Harp, and for some reason everyone found it hysterical and that has always stuck with me.