A Farewell letter.

Dear Ireland, it is time to say goodbye, to finally admit I have left you.

Truthfully, I have been avoiding this post. I generally tactfully dodge goodbyes with an innocent "oh no, I'll see you before I leave", and I am certainly not ready for this one. After almost an entire month back in Canada the majority of my sentences still begin "did you know that in Ireland..." Last evening's family supper ended with the entire table huddled around an Iphone watching Irish Comedian clips. Please know that you are missed.

You see, I just cannot let go to your big damp island filled with endless shades of green and hands down the friendliest people with a serious love of laughter. There are no photos that capture that infectious attitude and welcoming nature.

It still feels like just yesterday the spontaneous decision to move to Ireland was made. One Skype conversation with two persistent friends later, and I found myself booking a flight with zero idea of what life on the Emerald Isle consisted of. Peer pressure at its finest. My ignorance of the Irish history was soon made evident, my jaw constantly hitting the floor - seriously Belfast, who knew.

The three short months on your island were surreal. I am beyond grateful for the chance to explore it all. From our cozy Dublin apartment, the carpeted hills, and the dramatic West coast cliffs. The painted sheep speckled across every farm, the love for high-intensity sports - pubs filled with every rugby, hurling, or football match, the salty Howth air and incredible fresh fish, Belfast's looming display of live history, and the perfect rip in the relaxed surf town of Donegal, there was so much to take in. Calm beauty and wild adventure on every road, train, or bus trip.

And man Ireland, did we have fun. I dedicated a post to celebrating the randomness that is Ireland, which leads to some great adventures and constant laughter. I can't be the first to tell you that some things on the great big island are a bit different. F, S and I constantly exchanged looks of confusion, taking about a month to adjust to the infectious laid back attitude and way of life. Along the way I tried to pinpoint these differences, making a list of things that I couldn't imagine giving up, and those that consistently led to a face palm...

Will miss	Won’t miss
- that accent - live music everywhere   - fish and chips - fresh fresh fresh cheap delicious fresh fish (mussels, scallops, and clams oh my!) - my deer friends in Phoenix Park - Fallon & Byrne (saved expat lives with quinoa and black beans). - my visitors - running across the street like a lunatic - the permanent scent of fresh cut grass - real Guinness alksjdf;lkajsd;lfkjas;dlklksdf	- perpetually lost in translation while speaking english (dear professor, i thought 'call on me' meant phone you, not come to your office.) - running across the street like a lunatic - a kitchen stocked with only one non-stick pan and two forks - cheap umbrellas - LIBRARY COP. (There was coffee in our mugs everyday, take that).

Despite any confusion we might have initially encountered, Dublin, you were the perfect home for F and I. Your cold rainy nights had us bonding over documentaries, 'modeling' long underwear, mastering slippery cobblestone streets, and truly appreciating every moment of sunshine. That blue filthy carpet, tiny kitchen, animated convict neighbor, old skeleton key, and bedroom shower... are all missed. 

You should hear us blubbering on and on about you in Sask. 
Our friends are annoyed.

And Ireland, your reputation brought the visitor I had been waiting for, saving a coast for our eager exploration. How lucky we were to take in those clear waters and jagged cliffs; an absolute sight, speaking directly to the pride of the Irish. L's patience tested as I hugged each corner on your narrow Ring of Kerry roads. A few rental-car scratches later, you allowed him to live out his race-car fantasy on the windy traverse; one happy boy. You drew me in with your casual street wear, cozy pubs, constant comedy, and friendly people. They are the first thing I noticed, and what I will miss the most. The constant 'thank ya luv, oh you're grand,' doors held open, exchange of pleasantries, and conversations among complete strangers. The Irish were never too busy for a quick chat or exchange of (for the most part) gentle one-liners. No wonder they say there are only two kinds of people in the world; the Irish and those who wish they were. I've never been more proud to have Irish roots. And just like that, it's over. I'll keep your reputation alive with every recommendation that my friends and family will allow. Thank you and farewell. C.

Five Irish Favourites.

The lack of Five Irish Favourites around these parts has absolutely nothing to do with a shortage of photos to share, delayed rather due to a serious stack of papers standing between myself and graduation. 7 more days! Seven short short days. (Just keep swimming school friends! We are so close).

The excitement of the impending celebration is dampened by the realization that my time on the Emerald Isle is dwindling. I feel like I just arrived, and more importantly, have finally found my groove here and adjusted to the randomness that ensues in Ireland. Trust me when I say there are certain things here that at first are difficult to wrap your head around. Eventually though, you will adapt the Irish mentality, relax and embrace any confusion or inefficiencies with a shrug and a laugh. Nothing phases the Irish! Oh, your office is closed from 1:15pm - 2:15pm, makes total sense. Mowing the lawn in the rain, might as well! A mechanical bull on campus, sounds about right. Free ice-cream outside the gym, yes please.

My five favourites this week are a celebration of the randomness that is Ireland. So random. I love it.

Judge Judy on campus as she is granted the Vice Presidency of the University College Dublin Law Society. Huh?

Snow in the brand new soccer stadium during the Ireland v Austria world cup qualifier.
Beacause who need a roof in a country where it rains 99.9% of the time? 

The streets of Dublin. No words.

The Sheepdogs in Dublin! Go sask!

 An arcade ride which simulates a roller-coaster. First reaction, how lame, we want to race! Second reaction, pure joy.

Now back to embracing the randomness that is Ireland for seven more days, soaking in everything I can.
Ireland, I am not ready to say goodbye.

Happy Easter.

I hope everyone is enjoying a wonderful Easter weekend with family, friends and good food. In Ireland the holiday extends four days, a calm quiet taking over the city.  Easter Sunday was crammed with paper research as we muddle through the pages standing between us and graduation. (So close!)

Every Easter my thoughts travel back to the Semana Santa, or Holy Week, celebration in Antigua, Guatemala where I know for certain that Guatemalans have worked through the night to create the beautiful wood shaving 'alfombras' that cover the cobblestone streets. Tourists and locals alike carefully maneuver around the works of art, awaiting the afternoon processions which will trample the carpets, coating the small town in a beautiful layer of rainbow dust.

Alfombra creation is a painstakingly detailed tradition with coloured sawdust prepared for weeks in advance, and hours spent in a hunched position carefully sifting sawdust through stencils to create the ornate alfombras. But locals are happy to expend the effort, alfombra designs considered a source of family pride with stencils passed on through generations and wealthier families displaying their status by incorporating flowers wherever possible. After an unsuccessful attempt to sift the coloured dust with the Guatemalan precision in Antigua 2007, I will stick to what I know, and continue writing papers this Easter weekend.

The greenest of all days.

After a recovery week, it is finally time to share a quick post on our St. Paddy's adventure!

Photos courtesy of official St. Patrick's Festival

The days leading up to the holiday were spent bouncing between pubs and watching the streets fill with tourists donning Leprechaun suits, felt hats, and goofy grins. Oddly, I found myself sheepishly hiding my camera away, not wanting to be mistaken for one of them. I mean, I live here, kind of... I know how to catch the bus, maneuver the grocery store, and cross the street, (trickier than you would think). As far as I'm concerned, thats as local as it gets. As such, I took very few photos of Dublin, and am really kicking myself for it now.

March 17th in Dublin begins with back to back parades. First the 'People's Parade,' a new addition, followed by the infamous city parade, broadcasted across the world. After spending the previous day battling the unpredictable Irish weather, we opted to begin St. Paddy's in our warm home, wandering downtown to catch the tail-end of the show. Some were braver lining up hours in advance to ensure the perfect viewing point, only to later discover the 'People's Parade' was literally just people from other countries 'parading' the streets. Empathy shiver.

Irregardless, the energy from the crowds and streets of green are absolutely intoxicating. No one seemed the least bit phased by the dreary weather. Perhaps because 'everyone is Irish on St. Paddy's!' , according to a sign in the Guinness storehouse.

I give Dublin City huge credit for ensuring the biggest party day of the year is also appealing to families. The city hosted two separate areas boasting live music, dancing, and fair rides, littered with kids sporting green ice-creamed stained teeth, having the time of their life.

The boys and I thought it appropriate to partake in most the Irish activities possible, booking tickets to the All Ireland Championship matches. Our crew was happy to stick it out in the rain surrounded by Irish fans as we were introduced to a brand new sport, Hurling. Back-to-back games made for a chilly, but entertaining afternoon, perfectly complemented with screaming fans, green hats and cupcakes.

Not long after J generously purchased us all leprechaun hats, L sold his to an Irish fan! (For profit, of course).

As alluded to, Dublin swells with nearly one million visitors during St. Paddy's, meaning packed streets and even more packed pubs. Considering it takes 119.5 seconds to pour the perfect pint of Guinness, you can imagine the queues. After getting our fill enjoying the crowds and energy across Dublin, we welcomed an invite to a St. Paddy's celebration at an Irish apartment. 

The evening proved yet again that nights surrounded by your closest friends and fun new ones are the very best kind. Shamrock glasses and a Paddy's birthday are added bonuses. We joined right in with the Irish traditions repeatedly screaming singing variations of Rattlin' Bog when not busy 'picking and kicking' leprechauns off of our hot whiskey, (a drink challenging Guinness as the most popular on the Emerald Isle).Exhausted besties, happy to celebrate together (and slightly relieved the holiday is over).

Thank you to our hosts and to this incredible country for a fantastic March 17th like no other!!! Next year this time, we will be sure to share the Irish love and hospitality while celebrating in Canada.