Friday, May 6, 2011

Gravy-smothered squid with a side of mushrooms and beets? I'll take it!

                If the west is where it was won, why didn’t I see any trophies?
                We ventured to the opposite side of Ireland at the end of April for our last trip. We stopped at a major tourist attraction: the Blarney Stone. The Irish say there’s a difference between blarney and BS. For example:
                BS: Telling a 50-year-old woman that she doesn’t look a day over 20.
                Blarney: Asking the age of an older woman so you know at what age girls become beautiful.
               Precious.
  One Taylor boy at the end of the queue may or may not have French kissed the stone. I hope he enjoyed my leftovers. 
Get a room
We took a boat to get to our hike in Dunloe. I thought it was going to be a ten minute ride. It was actually 100 minutes. I was not amused.
Natalie and I decided to run the hike, which was supposed to last about 3 hours.
                Lexi: You’re going to run seven miles?
                Audrey: Well you’re going to walk it.
Hell mountain awaited us. I know, because it made my quads burn.
We planned to run the whole thing. Then we realized we were running up a mountain. Ok, we can just run two miles at a time…1 mile…Five minute intervals, and no less! It didn’t help that we had just eaten lunch. The peak of the incline was a glorious moment indeed. We no longer stopped because of shortness of breath, but instead because we spotted sweet action bridges that looked like they belonged in China (because they were made out of chopsticks. Weird.) and adorable baby infant lambies.
People should really stop saying, "You're so cute, I could just eat you up!"
Because then they do.
                We visited Muckross House, a 65-room mansion built in the 1800s for Mr. and Mrs. Herbert . I suppose I don’t understand the purpose of ornateness.
                Henry: Mary, my dear, why did you purchase a 100 kilogram, 4 meter high, gold-plated mirror with squirrel detail that cost 2000 euro?
                Mary: So I can do my hair in the morning.
In addition, they had a bell system, which linked every room to the main hallway. For instance, if you’re in the boudoir, you can ring the bell, and then a corresponding bell in the main hallway labeled “boudoir” rings, prompting a servant to come to your stead. This is the equivalent of texting your mother from your room to bring you a sandwich.
            
    We visited the Cliffs of Moher, but you can’t look over the edge, so nix that location on your “Must see in Ireland” list. Dun Angus on the Aran Islands was much more worthwhile. We army crawled out to the edge and stuck our necks over. There’s nothing quite like immanent death to wake you up in the morning. It’s slightly ridiculously looking over a cliff edge, screaming, and clinging to the ground for dear life when you realize that if you were hanging over your bedside, you wouldn’t be nearly as scared. Probably. I was just excited that if I did accidentally partake in the 100-meter plummet, it would be faster than any sprint I’ve done in my life. Maybe that’s how people in the west keep winning.
I wish I was as fearless as my water bottle.
                Hanna and I went out most nights for live music. Irish people have a habit of playing “Sweet Home Alabama”. I had no idea that they all lived there.
                I also realized I have a habit of ordering food I don’t like. In high school, I once ordered sausage and gravy before realizing that this meant there would be gravy smothering the deliciousness out of my food. In Galway, I asked for calamari. There’s nothing quite like having fried rubber for dinner.

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