Well, I start work in a little over a week and it's bank holiday this weekend - so I'm going to Amsterdam!
It's been a few weeks since I was last on the road and I'm really looking forward to it. Besides, I've run out of photos to upload to flickr!
Just in case anyone's curious about how I feel living over here, let me just detail one aspect of what I've been up to since I got here and what's coming up in the next few months:
March 8 - Nine Inch Nails
May 15 - The Young Gods
June 9 - vileevils
June 14 - Ned's Atomic Dustbin
July 8 - Frontline Assembly
August 14 - Skinny Puppy
August 22 - Tool
August 30 - Sonic Youth
November 2 - Carter USM (If I can get tickets)
Why would I ever want to leave?
Friday, 25 May 2007
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
Andrew - In Demand
If I had to describe the past week, the one word that keeps popping into my head is 'surreal'.
I finished my CV on Wednesday night, then started emailing it to a few ads I'd seen online before going to sleep. I didn't start the serious job hunt until the next morning. I found a good dozen or so positions that I thought I'd be good for and sent off for them - some of them as far away as Glasgow, Hull and Surrey. It only took a few hours until my hard work (ha!) began to bear fruit.
Later that afternoon I received a phone call from one of the companies I'd emailed the night before asking me in for an interview the next day - assuring me I didn't need to dress like a monkey for it.
The next day saw more responses, including a request to perform a small test as a preliminary to an interview - but I'll get to that later. First I had an interview to perform. To be honest, I wasn't expecting it to go too well so I decided I'd just chalk it down as practice. As it turns out, I had nothing to worry about: the guys were really great, it looked like a great position and I walked out with a great feeling about how it went.
Rather than head back home, I decided to take a trip into the Apple store in the city - they have free Internet and comfy chairs, plus it helps motivate me to get things done. While I was there I figured it'd be a good time to work on the test I was asked to do. It was pretty simple, I was given a jpeg screenshot of a website and had to convert it to a standards-compliant XHTML/CSS design. This sort of thing is my bread and butter: it was done in around 90 minutes and was emailed back to them just before I left for home.
Saturday morning left me no chance for sleeping in as I'd arranged to meet Kylie at the Natural History Museum at 10am. For once, I was actually early - while Kylie ended up being late. Despite this, we had a nice time wandering around the amazing building (I didn't take my camera, I wish I had though) inspecting the dinosaur exhibits, among other things. After a few hours our attentions began to dwindle, so we left to grab some lunch - despite only having seen a small fraction of the exhibits.
Sunday afternoon was spent basking in the sun at the pub with Lee and Margaret, before catching a movie - this time, 28 Weeks Later. I am a massive fan of the original, but I thought this one stunk. Everything that was bold and edgy about the first movie was just completely missing, instead, they kept trying to repeat the scares of the original - to lesser effect; I thought the method of bringing the virus back was really cheap and there were just too many coincidences throughout to make it believable. I was literally on the edge of my seat during the original, but this one just bored me and I couldn't wait for it to end. Not impressed. You've been reading Andrew - At the Movies.
With one successful interview under my belt, I thought I'd have a quiet day on Monday. I also needed to do some washing, so I headed up to the laundromat and while I was there my phone rang - another company, this time they wanted a phone interview to decide whether they wanted a face-to-face meeting. I must've said the right things because, in between watching my undies and shirts thumping around the drier, I was asked if I could come and meet the team on Friday. Another score!
The success stories don't end there, though: later that afternoon I was asked if I was available for an interview on Tuesday morning! Stupid question, really. This one was for a financial newspaper, so I decided to dress up a little more than I'd liked. As it turns out, it was a bit of a waste - I knew it wasn't going well almost immediately when I was presented with a written test asking me some rather pointless questions about PHP which I doubt anyone with a handy Internet connection would bother committing to memory. I did my best, but after the following interview I quickly realised I wasn't the person they were looking for and simply chalked this one up to experience.
No sooner was I out the door when another call arrived: apparently, the test I did on Friday was extremely well received and they wanted to meet me. Already dressed up and nothing to do for the rest of the day, I suggested later that afternoon. The recruiter assured me he'd call within the hour to let me know what time.
Not 20 minutes later my phone rang. Naturally, I was expecting it to be a time for the interview. Oh no, it's never that easy. It was the company I'd interviewed for on Friday - they were ringing to offer me the position.
That's six days from starting to look for work and being offered a position. At this point I'm feeling pretty good about myself. But don't worry, this story keeps going.
Another 20 minutes later and the call I was expecting arrives: the interview is at 4pm. Not sure how to break my great news, I tell the guy bluntly - but assure him I would still like to meet these guys as the company genuinely intrigued me and it sounded like a fantastic position. Besides, I'd like to see if they can offer me a better deal (I may end up a business man yet).
Time passes and the interview goes... to be honest I had trouble reading this one; that gut feeling I had after the last two was failing me this time. Of course, by this point I knew that I had a guaranteed job, so I was feeling pretty damn pleased with myself either way.
After the interview I rang the recruiter and told them my thoughts on how it went, but also how my gut was siding with the first offer at this point. As expected, he went into hard sell mode and asked me to give it some thought while he can get some feedback from the other side. Not long later he rang back to give me some startling news: they loved me and I was now their first choice for the role. Elated as I was, that old familiar tummy knot visited me again with a vengeance - now I had one hell of a tough choice ahead of me.
For the rest of the night I tried to weigh up the pros and cons of each position: they were both great opportunities and I would be lucky to work for either company. Unable to choose, I went to bed early and tried not to worry about it. Besides, Lee had invited me to watch the first State of Origin game in the morning and it sounded like the perfect distraction.
Yes, you read that right: I watched the State of Origin. My opinions on organised sport have not changed one iota, but I thought it'd be fun - I even wore a blue shirt to get in the spirit of things (especially being surrounded by Queenslanders!). Not that I actually cared, but Queensland won. No, what I cared about more was my employment future and just as the game ended, my recruiter rang again.
Having had some time to think about both jobs, I was still siding on the original offer for one simple reason: they were the only ones who had given me a formal offer, the other was only a promise for a second interview. Understanding my hesitation, I was assured that because I'd impressed them so much, they may not actually want a second interview and may, in fact, just offer me the position - at which point he gave them a call to confirm this. Moments later, he rang to offer me the news: a formal offer had been made for me to join their company. Ideally, they wanted to know by the end of business today.
Now came the tough decision - I needed some time to think it through, so I assured him I'd let him know before the day was over. For the next couple of hours I walked the streets of London, had some lunch, and generally racked my brains over my future course. It wasn't until I recalled one of the questions I was asked during the interview yesterday that I was able to make up my mind.
As you may know, I've had a lot of self-confidence problems over the last few years. I'm fully aware just how big a problem it's become as it played a large factor in my breakup last year and, subsequently, pushed me into this trip overseas in an effort to overcome it.
I'm good at what I can do, but I can be better. I know my flaws, but I'm starting to recognise my strengths. In the last two days, I've had two amazing job offers - both of which I would be extremely happy to be doing. In the end, though, what I realised is that I want to be great at what I do and the second company is going to give me the opportunities, the contacts and the training to make that goal a reality. It's also given me one hell of a confidence boost, something I desperately needed at this point.
I finished my CV on Wednesday night, then started emailing it to a few ads I'd seen online before going to sleep. I didn't start the serious job hunt until the next morning. I found a good dozen or so positions that I thought I'd be good for and sent off for them - some of them as far away as Glasgow, Hull and Surrey. It only took a few hours until my hard work (ha!) began to bear fruit.
Later that afternoon I received a phone call from one of the companies I'd emailed the night before asking me in for an interview the next day - assuring me I didn't need to dress like a monkey for it.
The next day saw more responses, including a request to perform a small test as a preliminary to an interview - but I'll get to that later. First I had an interview to perform. To be honest, I wasn't expecting it to go too well so I decided I'd just chalk it down as practice. As it turns out, I had nothing to worry about: the guys were really great, it looked like a great position and I walked out with a great feeling about how it went.
Rather than head back home, I decided to take a trip into the Apple store in the city - they have free Internet and comfy chairs, plus it helps motivate me to get things done. While I was there I figured it'd be a good time to work on the test I was asked to do. It was pretty simple, I was given a jpeg screenshot of a website and had to convert it to a standards-compliant XHTML/CSS design. This sort of thing is my bread and butter: it was done in around 90 minutes and was emailed back to them just before I left for home.
Saturday morning left me no chance for sleeping in as I'd arranged to meet Kylie at the Natural History Museum at 10am. For once, I was actually early - while Kylie ended up being late. Despite this, we had a nice time wandering around the amazing building (I didn't take my camera, I wish I had though) inspecting the dinosaur exhibits, among other things. After a few hours our attentions began to dwindle, so we left to grab some lunch - despite only having seen a small fraction of the exhibits.
Sunday afternoon was spent basking in the sun at the pub with Lee and Margaret, before catching a movie - this time, 28 Weeks Later. I am a massive fan of the original, but I thought this one stunk. Everything that was bold and edgy about the first movie was just completely missing, instead, they kept trying to repeat the scares of the original - to lesser effect; I thought the method of bringing the virus back was really cheap and there were just too many coincidences throughout to make it believable. I was literally on the edge of my seat during the original, but this one just bored me and I couldn't wait for it to end. Not impressed. You've been reading Andrew - At the Movies.
With one successful interview under my belt, I thought I'd have a quiet day on Monday. I also needed to do some washing, so I headed up to the laundromat and while I was there my phone rang - another company, this time they wanted a phone interview to decide whether they wanted a face-to-face meeting. I must've said the right things because, in between watching my undies and shirts thumping around the drier, I was asked if I could come and meet the team on Friday. Another score!
The success stories don't end there, though: later that afternoon I was asked if I was available for an interview on Tuesday morning! Stupid question, really. This one was for a financial newspaper, so I decided to dress up a little more than I'd liked. As it turns out, it was a bit of a waste - I knew it wasn't going well almost immediately when I was presented with a written test asking me some rather pointless questions about PHP which I doubt anyone with a handy Internet connection would bother committing to memory. I did my best, but after the following interview I quickly realised I wasn't the person they were looking for and simply chalked this one up to experience.
No sooner was I out the door when another call arrived: apparently, the test I did on Friday was extremely well received and they wanted to meet me. Already dressed up and nothing to do for the rest of the day, I suggested later that afternoon. The recruiter assured me he'd call within the hour to let me know what time.
Not 20 minutes later my phone rang. Naturally, I was expecting it to be a time for the interview. Oh no, it's never that easy. It was the company I'd interviewed for on Friday - they were ringing to offer me the position.
That's six days from starting to look for work and being offered a position. At this point I'm feeling pretty good about myself. But don't worry, this story keeps going.
Another 20 minutes later and the call I was expecting arrives: the interview is at 4pm. Not sure how to break my great news, I tell the guy bluntly - but assure him I would still like to meet these guys as the company genuinely intrigued me and it sounded like a fantastic position. Besides, I'd like to see if they can offer me a better deal (I may end up a business man yet).
Time passes and the interview goes... to be honest I had trouble reading this one; that gut feeling I had after the last two was failing me this time. Of course, by this point I knew that I had a guaranteed job, so I was feeling pretty damn pleased with myself either way.
After the interview I rang the recruiter and told them my thoughts on how it went, but also how my gut was siding with the first offer at this point. As expected, he went into hard sell mode and asked me to give it some thought while he can get some feedback from the other side. Not long later he rang back to give me some startling news: they loved me and I was now their first choice for the role. Elated as I was, that old familiar tummy knot visited me again with a vengeance - now I had one hell of a tough choice ahead of me.
For the rest of the night I tried to weigh up the pros and cons of each position: they were both great opportunities and I would be lucky to work for either company. Unable to choose, I went to bed early and tried not to worry about it. Besides, Lee had invited me to watch the first State of Origin game in the morning and it sounded like the perfect distraction.
Yes, you read that right: I watched the State of Origin. My opinions on organised sport have not changed one iota, but I thought it'd be fun - I even wore a blue shirt to get in the spirit of things (especially being surrounded by Queenslanders!). Not that I actually cared, but Queensland won. No, what I cared about more was my employment future and just as the game ended, my recruiter rang again.
Having had some time to think about both jobs, I was still siding on the original offer for one simple reason: they were the only ones who had given me a formal offer, the other was only a promise for a second interview. Understanding my hesitation, I was assured that because I'd impressed them so much, they may not actually want a second interview and may, in fact, just offer me the position - at which point he gave them a call to confirm this. Moments later, he rang to offer me the news: a formal offer had been made for me to join their company. Ideally, they wanted to know by the end of business today.
Now came the tough decision - I needed some time to think it through, so I assured him I'd let him know before the day was over. For the next couple of hours I walked the streets of London, had some lunch, and generally racked my brains over my future course. It wasn't until I recalled one of the questions I was asked during the interview yesterday that I was able to make up my mind.
As you may know, I've had a lot of self-confidence problems over the last few years. I'm fully aware just how big a problem it's become as it played a large factor in my breakup last year and, subsequently, pushed me into this trip overseas in an effort to overcome it.
I'm good at what I can do, but I can be better. I know my flaws, but I'm starting to recognise my strengths. In the last two days, I've had two amazing job offers - both of which I would be extremely happy to be doing. In the end, though, what I realised is that I want to be great at what I do and the second company is going to give me the opportunities, the contacts and the training to make that goal a reality. It's also given me one hell of a confidence boost, something I desperately needed at this point.
Wednesday, 16 May 2007
Back to Reality
So, where have I been? Not doing a lot, that's the short version.
No, wait, that's the long version too.
Okay, not quite: last weekend I caught up with Kylie again. The original plan was to hit the Natural History Museum for the day, then head off to a fancy dress party. Sounds pretty straightforward, right?
After a bit of discussion, we decided that the easiest last-minute costume would be some face paint to make ourselves look like KISS (Russ, you'd be proud!), so Kylie headed off into Walthamstow markets to find some face paint.
Two hours later, I received a call explaining that she hadn't found any face paint anywhere. By now I was ready to head over her way, so I hopped on the tube anyway and arrived almost an hour later. When I arrived, I gave her a call - and her phone was off. The last time I'd been here I was rotten drunk and it was dark, so any hope of me finding my way to Kylie's house were slim to none. Instead, I waited around and kept trying to call. An hour later, I finally got through.
Arriving back at her house (we'd given up on the museum for the day), we chatted, ordered some pizza and proceeded to watch the League of Gentlemen. I've been meaning to watch this for a VERY long time but never had the opportunity - and I loved it.
After the first six episodes, we decided it was time to get ready. Breaking out the laptop, we found a picture of KISS and started to slather on the makeup; Kylie going as Paul Stanley, while I made myself up as Gene Simmons (of course). Now looking like a couple of mental asylum escapees, we now had to brave the public transport (and the accompanying stares) to get to the party.
The party itself was okay, although I do question what sort of karaoke machine contains 2-Unlimited songs and not a single KISS song! We eventually left around 2am and braved the night buses (and more funny stares), arriving back at around 3.30am. And then spent the next 30 minutes removing makeup.
I guess I was tired - I woke up and checked the time and was stunned to discover it was 12.50! I guess the museum was out of the question today, too. Instead, we watched the next series of League of Gentlemen before I headed back to Lee's place around 6pm.
The next couple of nights were fairly tame, until last night - The Young Gods were doing their only UK show! The last time I saw these guys was around 12 years ago in Newcastle, when there were about 20-30 people in the crowd. Thankfully, last night was a bit more packed and the show was just as good. They played plenty of tracks off their new album (which isn't quite as good as some of their earlier stuff, but is still really good) as well as a few classics, ending the show with the disturbing 'Did You Miss Me?'.
And now for the latest about me: well, I've decided it's time to stop being a bum and get a job. I've been working on updating my CV with the help of Lee, but I find writing about myself so insanely tedious it's taking far longer than I'd hoped. I've been checking out the job ads for the last couple of weeks and - thankfully - it looks like there are quite a few positions available for what I want to do, so fingers crossed it won't take too long.
No, wait, that's the long version too.
Okay, not quite: last weekend I caught up with Kylie again. The original plan was to hit the Natural History Museum for the day, then head off to a fancy dress party. Sounds pretty straightforward, right?
After a bit of discussion, we decided that the easiest last-minute costume would be some face paint to make ourselves look like KISS (Russ, you'd be proud!), so Kylie headed off into Walthamstow markets to find some face paint.
Two hours later, I received a call explaining that she hadn't found any face paint anywhere. By now I was ready to head over her way, so I hopped on the tube anyway and arrived almost an hour later. When I arrived, I gave her a call - and her phone was off. The last time I'd been here I was rotten drunk and it was dark, so any hope of me finding my way to Kylie's house were slim to none. Instead, I waited around and kept trying to call. An hour later, I finally got through.
Arriving back at her house (we'd given up on the museum for the day), we chatted, ordered some pizza and proceeded to watch the League of Gentlemen. I've been meaning to watch this for a VERY long time but never had the opportunity - and I loved it.
After the first six episodes, we decided it was time to get ready. Breaking out the laptop, we found a picture of KISS and started to slather on the makeup; Kylie going as Paul Stanley, while I made myself up as Gene Simmons (of course). Now looking like a couple of mental asylum escapees, we now had to brave the public transport (and the accompanying stares) to get to the party.
The party itself was okay, although I do question what sort of karaoke machine contains 2-Unlimited songs and not a single KISS song! We eventually left around 2am and braved the night buses (and more funny stares), arriving back at around 3.30am. And then spent the next 30 minutes removing makeup.
I guess I was tired - I woke up and checked the time and was stunned to discover it was 12.50! I guess the museum was out of the question today, too. Instead, we watched the next series of League of Gentlemen before I headed back to Lee's place around 6pm.
The next couple of nights were fairly tame, until last night - The Young Gods were doing their only UK show! The last time I saw these guys was around 12 years ago in Newcastle, when there were about 20-30 people in the crowd. Thankfully, last night was a bit more packed and the show was just as good. They played plenty of tracks off their new album (which isn't quite as good as some of their earlier stuff, but is still really good) as well as a few classics, ending the show with the disturbing 'Did You Miss Me?'.
And now for the latest about me: well, I've decided it's time to stop being a bum and get a job. I've been working on updating my CV with the help of Lee, but I find writing about myself so insanely tedious it's taking far longer than I'd hoped. I've been checking out the job ads for the last couple of weeks and - thankfully - it looks like there are quite a few positions available for what I want to do, so fingers crossed it won't take too long.
Sunday, 6 May 2007
Recovery
I trust everybody is enjoying my public deconstruction - I hope nobody is too shocked or embarrassed reading my more troubling thoughts. I didn't intend this blog to become such a public outpouring of my personal feelings, but sometimes it just needs to come out.
Once again, I'm back in London. This morning I hopped on a bus that brought me all the way from Dublin (with another ferry ride), so I'm taking some time to relax, chill out and get my head back together.
I haven't entirely made up my mind where to go next, but I'm almost certain I'll head to France. Before that, though, I'm looking forward to catching up with some of my old friends again. For someone who considers himself a loner, I'm finding it surprising just how much I've been craving contact with other people lately.
Once again, I'm back in London. This morning I hopped on a bus that brought me all the way from Dublin (with another ferry ride), so I'm taking some time to relax, chill out and get my head back together.
I haven't entirely made up my mind where to go next, but I'm almost certain I'll head to France. Before that, though, I'm looking forward to catching up with some of my old friends again. For someone who considers himself a loner, I'm finding it surprising just how much I've been craving contact with other people lately.
Thursday, 3 May 2007
Coming Down
I'm back in Dublin after the tour - actually, I arrived yesterday afternoon. It's only now that I'm feeling capable of discussing it in a semi-rational manner. I'm planning to go back and retroactively fill in the days of the tour, so keep an eye out for them next week.
My main reason for going on this tour was to find out what it's like compared to travelling on my own. What's the verdict? Well, it had its positives and negatives - I don't think I'm quite prepared to come down on either side just yet, I'll just go through what comes to me.
The biggest positive was that I was surrounded by 16 other people every day, everywhere, with no hope of escape.
The biggest negative was that I was surrounded by 16 other people every day, everywhere, with no hope of escape.
Now, I'm a bit of a loner at the best of times. If there's one thing I enjoy more than anything it's solitude with a backing soundtrack (translation: I love listening and playing music by myself). I realise this is not the healthiest way of living my life, so I've been doing my best to get out of my shell - which is one of the major reasons I decided to do this trip.
I'm not a 'go out at night' person, at all. When the darkness arrives, I much prefer to head inside to escape the scary night than hit the party circuit. This was the first demon I had to overcome as every night, without fail, all 17 of us would head off to eat, drink and have fun. It helped that I always had someone around to talk to - normally, I end up sitting on my own staring into my drink, become embarrassed and head back to the hostel.
Enough of the personal introspection, how about the tour itself? Well, I'm very glad I actually saw Ireland on a tour as most of the places we visited would have been incredibly inconvenient to travel to on my own. When I started out I had no idea of the places I was going to see, I just wanted an easy way of getting around to the important sights. This was a massive positive in itself.
The only downside to this way of travelling are the timelines: it's a constant barrage of 'we need to be out by this time', so I did feel a bit of pressure to hurry around most places so I didn't always feel I saw everything I wanted to the extent I preferred. When I'm on my own, this is never a problem.
This also ties in to another feeling I had about the tour sometimes: occasionally, it felt like we were rushing around from town to town in order to make it to the next party, rather than actually seeing the country. But then again, part of me says that the craic is a huge part of Irish culture, so it really was a significant part of the tour. Considering I had a great time almost every night, I'm not going to fuss over this much.
But now I'm back in Dublin, alone again. It's funny - yesterday afternoon when we were pulling in to park, I couldn't wait to get away from everyone and just spend some time alone. It was only an hour later I was having severe withdrawals from being on my own, craving someone to interact with.
Today I spent the day sight-seeing. I took a ride on another round-the-city buses, hopping off occasionally to take a closer peek at various places. After the last 10 days, it felt quite empty though. I even started to become a bit defensive toward myself, my inner monologue arguing back and forth about spending my last few days in Ireland seeing the proper sights versus seeing the things I wanted to see (in this case, one of Dublin's largest book stores).
In the end, I won and I spent an hour browsing the shelves - and bought something to read on the way home. On the way back to the hostel I was justifying my feelings to myself in all sorts of way, and the best way I could express it is that I like what I like - if you don't like this, then go to hell. I was actually a bit angry on the way back until something unlikely occurred - I ran into Simone and Evie, who were on the tour with me. After we talked about what we've done since the tour ended, I felt a lot calmer and happier with my choices.
I've never been a party animal, I'm not a big drinker, I am quite shy and it can take a frustrating amount of time for me to open up to someone enough for me to feel comfortable conversing with them. But you know what? That's me, that's who I am. I'm trying my best to overcome my shortcomings, but I'm feeling less and less like I need to justify who I am to anyone any more.
So would I do a big tour like this one again? Hmmm, probably. It was physically and emotionally draining at times (let's not talk financially, I may start to cry), but it was an eye-opening experience and, I feel, definitely the best way of seeing Ireland. I'd hate to think of what I would've missed if I'd gone it on my own.
I'm heading back to London on the bus early Saturday morning, I'll be back some time at night. My original plans of heading back through Cork and Swansea have been scuppered, but I'm feeling way too tired to anything anyway so I'm going to head back and recharge for a while. I'm thinking I might hit the continent next. I haven't been hit by a truck yet, but I'm sure it'll happen eventually.
Oh wait, I haven't explained that metaphor yet...
My main reason for going on this tour was to find out what it's like compared to travelling on my own. What's the verdict? Well, it had its positives and negatives - I don't think I'm quite prepared to come down on either side just yet, I'll just go through what comes to me.
The biggest positive was that I was surrounded by 16 other people every day, everywhere, with no hope of escape.
The biggest negative was that I was surrounded by 16 other people every day, everywhere, with no hope of escape.
Now, I'm a bit of a loner at the best of times. If there's one thing I enjoy more than anything it's solitude with a backing soundtrack (translation: I love listening and playing music by myself). I realise this is not the healthiest way of living my life, so I've been doing my best to get out of my shell - which is one of the major reasons I decided to do this trip.
I'm not a 'go out at night' person, at all. When the darkness arrives, I much prefer to head inside to escape the scary night than hit the party circuit. This was the first demon I had to overcome as every night, without fail, all 17 of us would head off to eat, drink and have fun. It helped that I always had someone around to talk to - normally, I end up sitting on my own staring into my drink, become embarrassed and head back to the hostel.
Enough of the personal introspection, how about the tour itself? Well, I'm very glad I actually saw Ireland on a tour as most of the places we visited would have been incredibly inconvenient to travel to on my own. When I started out I had no idea of the places I was going to see, I just wanted an easy way of getting around to the important sights. This was a massive positive in itself.
The only downside to this way of travelling are the timelines: it's a constant barrage of 'we need to be out by this time', so I did feel a bit of pressure to hurry around most places so I didn't always feel I saw everything I wanted to the extent I preferred. When I'm on my own, this is never a problem.
This also ties in to another feeling I had about the tour sometimes: occasionally, it felt like we were rushing around from town to town in order to make it to the next party, rather than actually seeing the country. But then again, part of me says that the craic is a huge part of Irish culture, so it really was a significant part of the tour. Considering I had a great time almost every night, I'm not going to fuss over this much.
But now I'm back in Dublin, alone again. It's funny - yesterday afternoon when we were pulling in to park, I couldn't wait to get away from everyone and just spend some time alone. It was only an hour later I was having severe withdrawals from being on my own, craving someone to interact with.
Today I spent the day sight-seeing. I took a ride on another round-the-city buses, hopping off occasionally to take a closer peek at various places. After the last 10 days, it felt quite empty though. I even started to become a bit defensive toward myself, my inner monologue arguing back and forth about spending my last few days in Ireland seeing the proper sights versus seeing the things I wanted to see (in this case, one of Dublin's largest book stores).
In the end, I won and I spent an hour browsing the shelves - and bought something to read on the way home. On the way back to the hostel I was justifying my feelings to myself in all sorts of way, and the best way I could express it is that I like what I like - if you don't like this, then go to hell. I was actually a bit angry on the way back until something unlikely occurred - I ran into Simone and Evie, who were on the tour with me. After we talked about what we've done since the tour ended, I felt a lot calmer and happier with my choices.
I've never been a party animal, I'm not a big drinker, I am quite shy and it can take a frustrating amount of time for me to open up to someone enough for me to feel comfortable conversing with them. But you know what? That's me, that's who I am. I'm trying my best to overcome my shortcomings, but I'm feeling less and less like I need to justify who I am to anyone any more.
So would I do a big tour like this one again? Hmmm, probably. It was physically and emotionally draining at times (let's not talk financially, I may start to cry), but it was an eye-opening experience and, I feel, definitely the best way of seeing Ireland. I'd hate to think of what I would've missed if I'd gone it on my own.
I'm heading back to London on the bus early Saturday morning, I'll be back some time at night. My original plans of heading back through Cork and Swansea have been scuppered, but I'm feeling way too tired to anything anyway so I'm going to head back and recharge for a while. I'm thinking I might hit the continent next. I haven't been hit by a truck yet, but I'm sure it'll happen eventually.
Oh wait, I haven't explained that metaphor yet...
Wednesday, 25 April 2007
Room, Please Stop Spinning
The warm up night may have ended later, but this morning my head hurts - which didn't happen yesterday. Oh sweet bus ride, how I can't wait for you...
Tragedy struck the tour yesterday morning: our guide, Phil, had left a fan on inside the bus and, as a consequence, the battery was dead. This meant that, instead of heading on to our first stop of the day, we waited around for an hour waiting for some jumper leads to arrive - this was after the half-hearted attempts to push start it, of course. It was funny as hell to be truthful and, in the end, it actually worked to our advantage as it meant we missed out on the nasty weather that had snuck up on us during the night.
When we were finally underway, our first stop was to the north coast and a place called Carrick-a-Rede - a rickety-looking rope bridge atop some amazing scenery and another massive death-drop. I haven't chickened out on one yet and I wasn't about to start now, so after a nice walk in the sun we arrived - and it was nothing! Okay, I started to worry a little bit once other people hopped on and it started bouncing away, but I made it across (and back) with hardly any panicking.
It was well worth the effort too, giving us a much better view of the coastline we'd just walked along. The ground was also incredibly spongy, it was sort of like walking on a weak trampoline.
Our next stop was Giant's Causeway. Now, there's an old Irish legend associated with this place involving giants and babies and other things, but the most important thing is that this is a National Heritage site and it's a really amazing area. The main area, the actual Causeway itself, is made up from columns of hexagonal rocks erupting from the ground. There's a giant wall of them you can climb up - the rocks double as handy stepping stones - which is, ugh, another great big bloody height I can claim to have conquered.
Around this area are a few other interesting sights to see, including the Giant's Boot, basically, a big ol' rock that looks like, you guessed it, a boot; the 'pipe organ', another collection of rock columns that sort of looks like a pipe organ; as well as more picturesque cliffs and coastline.
By now it was time to head to our next stopover for the next two days, the city of Derry. Checking into the hostel, we all headed down to the recommended eating spot for some food and drinks. And then a few more drinks. Which led to more drinks. It's a vicious spiral.
On urging from Phil, we eventually headed up to a traditional Irish pub, to sample some traditional Irish music and traditional Irish people. Oh, and have a few more drinks - that goes without saying. The pub itself was interesting, its most arresting feature being the pig head hung from the ceiling (Raymond Watts would be proud). It didn't take us long to start mingling with some locals, including a German girl (yes, she was a local!) who proceeded to tell me I looked like Bernard Black. Considering one of the girls on the tour had earlier told me I look like a young Mick Molloy, I considered this new comparison to be a step up.
After a while, we decided to move on to the next place - a night club, this time. Funnily enough, the German girl and her boyfriend tagged along too. By now, we were all quite sauced and having a good time - at which point, Phil started on his favourite trick of grabbing someone camera and going nuts with it. Not just pictures of us, either - anyone in shooting distance, he'd snap them.
Tragedy struck the tour yesterday morning: our guide, Phil, had left a fan on inside the bus and, as a consequence, the battery was dead. This meant that, instead of heading on to our first stop of the day, we waited around for an hour waiting for some jumper leads to arrive - this was after the half-hearted attempts to push start it, of course. It was funny as hell to be truthful and, in the end, it actually worked to our advantage as it meant we missed out on the nasty weather that had snuck up on us during the night.
When we were finally underway, our first stop was to the north coast and a place called Carrick-a-Rede - a rickety-looking rope bridge atop some amazing scenery and another massive death-drop. I haven't chickened out on one yet and I wasn't about to start now, so after a nice walk in the sun we arrived - and it was nothing! Okay, I started to worry a little bit once other people hopped on and it started bouncing away, but I made it across (and back) with hardly any panicking.
It was well worth the effort too, giving us a much better view of the coastline we'd just walked along. The ground was also incredibly spongy, it was sort of like walking on a weak trampoline.
Our next stop was Giant's Causeway. Now, there's an old Irish legend associated with this place involving giants and babies and other things, but the most important thing is that this is a National Heritage site and it's a really amazing area. The main area, the actual Causeway itself, is made up from columns of hexagonal rocks erupting from the ground. There's a giant wall of them you can climb up - the rocks double as handy stepping stones - which is, ugh, another great big bloody height I can claim to have conquered.
Around this area are a few other interesting sights to see, including the Giant's Boot, basically, a big ol' rock that looks like, you guessed it, a boot; the 'pipe organ', another collection of rock columns that sort of looks like a pipe organ; as well as more picturesque cliffs and coastline.
By now it was time to head to our next stopover for the next two days, the city of Derry. Checking into the hostel, we all headed down to the recommended eating spot for some food and drinks. And then a few more drinks. Which led to more drinks. It's a vicious spiral.
On urging from Phil, we eventually headed up to a traditional Irish pub, to sample some traditional Irish music and traditional Irish people. Oh, and have a few more drinks - that goes without saying. The pub itself was interesting, its most arresting feature being the pig head hung from the ceiling (Raymond Watts would be proud). It didn't take us long to start mingling with some locals, including a German girl (yes, she was a local!) who proceeded to tell me I looked like Bernard Black. Considering one of the girls on the tour had earlier told me I look like a young Mick Molloy, I considered this new comparison to be a step up.
After a while, we decided to move on to the next place - a night club, this time. Funnily enough, the German girl and her boyfriend tagged along too. By now, we were all quite sauced and having a good time - at which point, Phil started on his favourite trick of grabbing someone camera and going nuts with it. Not just pictures of us, either - anyone in shooting distance, he'd snap them.
Tuesday, 24 April 2007
Warming Up
It's morning, after the first day of the tour. The bus is packed with people, our tour guide is awesome and we've made it to Belfast.
When we arrived, we took the Black Cab tour of Belfast, which was quite intense and very sobering. We were taken around the city through both the Protestant and Catholic areas (kept apart by a massive wall and gates) to take a look at the various murals painted on the walls.
You can hear the stories, you can see the sights, but actually understanding the violence that happens over is completely beyond me - and it's something I'll never understand. So far, it's possibly the best thing I've done this entire trip. It was quite scary too, wandering around areas still controlled by armed militia.
By the time I arrived back at the hostel I had a severe splitting headache, so I took some Nurofen and... went up to the pub with the group. I had a feeling my sore head was from the early morning Guiness we enjoyed at the factory in Dublin (not really worth a visit), so after a hair of the dog I was almost back to normal.
The whole group spent the rest of the night drinking and getting to know each other and we had a really mad time. There was a Canadian girl, Alison, staying in our room and she tagged along with us, so in the end there were around 16 or so of us at the back of the pub having a blast.
A few hours later it was decided we needed to move on to a club, so we all wandered up the street to 'The Parlor'. The usual clubbing antics ensued: drinking, dancing and unsuccessfully hitting on girls. That is until Steve dragged this gorgeous little red-headed girl over to us, who was bragging she'd stolen a bottle of wine from the bar.
Leigh and I ended up chatting to her for a little while until she ran away, so we thought nothing much of it - until five minutes later at closing when she brought her two friends along to introduce us. The six of us then headed out to the street to chat some more, until we eventually ended up back at their house.
I wish I could continue on with some wild crazy adventure, but the truth wasn't awful so I may as well be honest: we basically just sat around chatting, drinking some more and playing tin whistles (well, the girls were - they were brilliant at it). We finally headed back to the hostel at 4.30am and was woken up at 7.30am. I'm in a surprisingly good state, all things considered.
Today we head to Derry, where we're staying for two nights. According to the guys, last night was a warm-up for the rest of the tour. I'm not sure if I should be happy or scared...
When we arrived, we took the Black Cab tour of Belfast, which was quite intense and very sobering. We were taken around the city through both the Protestant and Catholic areas (kept apart by a massive wall and gates) to take a look at the various murals painted on the walls.
You can hear the stories, you can see the sights, but actually understanding the violence that happens over is completely beyond me - and it's something I'll never understand. So far, it's possibly the best thing I've done this entire trip. It was quite scary too, wandering around areas still controlled by armed militia.
By the time I arrived back at the hostel I had a severe splitting headache, so I took some Nurofen and... went up to the pub with the group. I had a feeling my sore head was from the early morning Guiness we enjoyed at the factory in Dublin (not really worth a visit), so after a hair of the dog I was almost back to normal.
The whole group spent the rest of the night drinking and getting to know each other and we had a really mad time. There was a Canadian girl, Alison, staying in our room and she tagged along with us, so in the end there were around 16 or so of us at the back of the pub having a blast.
A few hours later it was decided we needed to move on to a club, so we all wandered up the street to 'The Parlor'. The usual clubbing antics ensued: drinking, dancing and unsuccessfully hitting on girls. That is until Steve dragged this gorgeous little red-headed girl over to us, who was bragging she'd stolen a bottle of wine from the bar.
Leigh and I ended up chatting to her for a little while until she ran away, so we thought nothing much of it - until five minutes later at closing when she brought her two friends along to introduce us. The six of us then headed out to the street to chat some more, until we eventually ended up back at their house.
I wish I could continue on with some wild crazy adventure, but the truth wasn't awful so I may as well be honest: we basically just sat around chatting, drinking some more and playing tin whistles (well, the girls were - they were brilliant at it). We finally headed back to the hostel at 4.30am and was woken up at 7.30am. I'm in a surprisingly good state, all things considered.
Today we head to Derry, where we're staying for two nights. According to the guys, last night was a warm-up for the rest of the tour. I'm not sure if I should be happy or scared...
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