Motherland

Two words to describe my past almost-two-weeks in Ireland: GREAT CRAIC!! (as they say)

I feel so fortunate to have had two whole weeks hanging with my incredible relatives in this incredibly beauuuuuutiful (I can't say that enough times) country.  It was so great to see familiar faces and be able to hang out with family.  I felt like some kind of guest of honour with the way they all looked out for me and showed me around the beautiful sights of Ireland, I couldn't have asked for a better holiday really (excluding the part about my chest infection/cough which I will get into a bit later).

^that whole paragraph may seem like the cheesy cliché sort of stuff you're "supposed" to say, but I really and truly mean all of it.

SO! I arrived Friday the 21st late-ish into Dublin and my aunt Nuala and uncle Paul (my mom's siblings) were waiting at the gate to welcome me.  It was so great to see them, it's been 3 years approximately since I saw Nuala and almost a year since Paul visited my fam back home in Canada.  It's always a happy reunion.  Not to mention that I was on a high after the customs officer gave me back my passport and said "Thank you Siobhan" with a P-E-R-F-E-C-T execution of the pronunciation and to top it all off in an Irish accent.  I swear to god I got a physical jolt in that moment.  I wouldn't even get addressed by my name in that kind of a situation back home in Canada, let alone France where my name is a completely foreign specimen altogether.  Things started off wonderfully!

Saturday I got up and braved the cold-ish weather and tried a run despite my cough, then came home to a full on Irish fry for breakfast.. thank god I went running.  Afterwards Paul took me for a walk on the pier and we headed into downtown Dublin for some exploring.  

Uncle

Casual lunch stop....

HOG. ROLL. HOG ROLL. 

It was a super fun afternoon of exploring in which I found a soulmate of a leather jacket in one of the cool vintage stores in Temple Bar, Dublin.  About 10 minutes after voicing my interest in trying to find myself one Paul and I discovered the alpha and omega of cool leather items (in my opinion).  It was fate.  Saturday ended with a mini reunion family dinner at my aunt Maire's house and I finished the day full of food and happy as a clam.  

On Sunday I met with my dad's brother, my uncle David, so that I could go stay with him and his family a few days in the south in county Clare.  Paul and I went for a quickie of a walk and then Paul dropped me at the Camogie game David was coaching near Dublin.  Camogie is an Irish sport that's the female version of Hurling.  It involves a wooden stick with a kind of wide, spade like bottom, and a heavy ball, with the only padding/protection being helmets.  You can carry the ball and hit it with the stick and push and shove as much as you want (from what I could see).  It was rough.  They didn't just hit the ball, they WHACKED it, and they sometimes paid little attention to whether or not there was a hand holding the ball or not.  Can't say I felt the urge to get into Camogie after watching the game, but I certainly held a lot of respect for the girls who were playing! When the game was over I hitched a ride with the team bus back to Shannon, and from there David drove me back to his house in Quin.  The following two days were spent driving around Clare with David as he showed me the sights and we visited my dad's cousins (my second cousins..?).  I loved meeting all the Barrys and also found it kind of hilarious as I heard the odd funny story about my old man and was able to pick up on traits here and there in the cousins that I know have been passed down into my family.  In the words of my dad I found out "where the crazy comes from" Hilarous. Not to mention that I had enough delicious homemade scones, brown bread, and soup to last me the rest of the year.  And let's not forget all the tea!!

The town of Ennis in County Clare.  This is where my Dad went to school!

David told me to hop on the town monuments to get a photo ha.

David

David told me him and my Dad would cross that bridge in the background more than a few times a day during a normal weekday.

I know I'm blurry but you get the idea.  I'm sitting on Steele's Rock: see 4 photos down

hehehehe danger 

Where my Dad went to school!

Steele's rock!

ENNIS 

Standin' on tombs

Tomb I was standin' on

fancy a stroll?

The falls of Ennistymon!

hehehe more danger

up close and personal

a girl and her uncle! 

This was not a safe venture but made an alright photo

Tomb #2 

Standing on Tomb #2

 The photo just above is on the same day as the photo just below.  Ireland, where the weather is always a surprise and never boring.

CRAAAZY waves!

Facing those ocean winds head on

I had a brilliant Clare experience. I left feeling like I had a better idea of where my Dad comes from which is pretty cool.  On Wednesday David drove me to Galway where I was able to catch up a bit with his son, my cousin, (who's also called) David and is going to college there right now.  After a bit of exploring we grabbed a bite to eat and uncle David saw me off.  I was taking the bus from Galway to Sligo, then to Sligo to Derry to meet back up with Paul. In other words I was going south to north in one day, which ended up being about 5 and a half hours of bussing.  

Met some interesting characters on the bus: one old and worn down looking woman came and sat next to me for an hour or two and started conversation. It came out pretty quick that I was a student from Canada who was visiting Irish family to which she said "Oh so you must be about 21 then!" I told her my actual age and she asked me to guess hers.  Now... I thought she looked to be in her fifties at LEAST and in an effort to be overly polite and not embarrass myself or her I decided to guess lower than what I really thought.  So I said somewhere in her forties. Her face changed to a look of utter surprise laced with a hint of horror as she said "But I'm only 39!!!" Oh god.  *Siobhan mentally facepalms* Well I missed the boat on that friendly stranger guessing game.  I then spent an awkward 5 minutes trying to fix my blunt mistake and mend her wounded pride.  She said she'd always been told she had a young face and I politely nodded while managing an awkward and high pitched "yes! mmhmm, ohh...? yes? yes, wow!" All jokes aside she looked at least 51 I'm tellin' you.

The bus went from being full to bursting point when it left Galway to a lonely 4 or 5 of us remaining when we arrived in Derry Wednesday evening.  Paul was there to meet me and then we drove back to his house in Culdaff (in County Donegal).  

Throughout the whole trip I had kind of an annoying, pestering cough that was rooted deep in my chest, so unfortunately I hadn't been out running.  Thorough googling told me that was the best option in order to get better faster, so I sucked it up and stuck to walking, which wasn't all that bad! Paul is over 6 ft. and walking to keep up with him is like half-jogging anyway so I didn't mind.  His house is in Culdaff, like I mentioned, and it's the town/beach where my Mum's parents used to take her and her 6 siblings every summer for a week's vacation.  It's only about a 8-10 minute drive outside their hometown of Carndonagh.  I know Culdaff has a very special place in my mum's heart and she adores the beach there, so walking on it with Paul was very cool. And beautiful (DUH it's Ireland).

Culdaff as the sun is setting! That land there is Malin Head

My first few days weren't all that exciting because of a scholarship application I was kind of pre-occupied with for uni next year.  It took up a lot of my time Thursday and Friday and aside from a few family dinners and walks with Paul I didn't get up to much.  I actually stayed up until 7am Saturday MORNING in an effort to get it done by the deadline.  In some kind of miraculous stroke of fate I got it all done, and also got to watch the sun rise beckoning the following day AS I was going to bed.  That's what I like to call a healthy sleep schedule.  But then it was done and is now out of my life THANK HEAVENS.  On Sunday Paul took me to the Five Fingers (cool spot in Inishowen) for a lovely beach walk, and then we went to my uncle Jim's for a big lunch with Patrick, Eimear, Grainne, and Paul.  After all the celebratory meals we had I sort of hit a breaking point of explosiveness.  Great food EVERYWHERE! 

On Monday Paul and I got up early and drove to Patrick's for a day touring County Antrim and some lovely sights out there.  After about a one hour drive or so we passed through Portrush which is a lovely little town on the seaside.  Patrick and Paul told me that when they were kids, my grandparents used to take them up to Portrush one day a year for some fun.  There's a cool amusement park setup in Portrush but they didn't have it running when we passed through. 

SPOTTED: My name.  On a sign.  In Portrush. I love Ireland. 

First stop: Beauty viewpoint of Dunluce Castle!

Paul, Siobhan, Patrick

Second Stop: Dunluce Castle! (For real this time)

Third Stop: Giant's Causeway!!

This was pretty cool.  We got a tour by an Irish guy named Neville who liked talking lots, and also got to hear firsthand the legend of the giant Fionn McCool and his wife Oonagh.  I loved that because I remember having a kid's book back in my kiddie days that was all about Fionn, his giant adventures, and the Giant's Causeway.  As nerdy as it sounds it was like seein' one of my favourite childhood stories come to life.  

Brothers!!

Casual Giant stance

There be GIANTS

Looooook at the SIIIIIZE 

Siobhan! Uncles! Tourists explorin'!

Fourth Stop: Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge (minus the rope bridge part)

This involved a seaside walk along some majestic Irish cliffs that would normally end with a daredevil walk across a rather rickety rope bridge.  Sadly (or perhaps we should say thankfully) the rope bridge was under some maintenance so I didn't get to cross it but the walk was super fun! Paul and I discovered the hilarious joy of skipping along paths and frightening fellow tourists.  

Fifth Stop: Bushmills Whiskey Distillery

Got to see how the Irish perfect the whiskey making art.  It was pretty cool actually I was pleasantly surprised, but sadly I wasn't allowed to take any photos, so the excitement ends there folks.

The next morning Paul and I got up fairly early to do some filming in the morning light.  Paul is in the process of making a documentary on a book about the life and times of a cool old Irish guy named Charles McGlinchey and I was lucky enough to be around to help him get some shots! He showed me this insanely pretty walk through possibly fairy-inhabited trees and greenery up to an enchanted waterfall.  I'm saying enchanted because you couldn't see it and not imagine it being the hidden gateway to like an elf dwelling or something.  

"IS THIS REAL?!"

Then another beach!

Mr. Cool

This dog was chillaxin' alone on the beach. He was adorable and super friendly and didn't have an owner in sight.  You go doggy.

Yesterday I got to hang out with my uncle Jim, who's my Mum's oldest brother.  He's lived in Carndonagh almost his whole life and works as a vet on large animals.  So he'd know Inishowen very well since he's not only had lots of exploring time, but would have driven all over in his jeep to visit farmers and their sickly animals.  I got to see so much of the countryside yesterday, AND it was beautiful out.

ruinz

Kinnagoe Bay!

Jim!!

I have had my camera glued like that to my face for 2 weeks

BAH IRELAND

BAAAH

SO. BEAUTIFUL.

It has been a slice Inishowen.  Tomorrow Paul and I will be heading out early to go back to Dublin.  I'm France bound on Saturday and am sad that my holidays are coming to an end, but on the PLUS side.... in about 3 weeks I'll be back! And this time with my Mom and sister :)

Today was my last day up north, and unfortunately it wasn't the most exciting.  Like I mentioned I've had this persistent chest cough.  A week ago Paul took me to the local doc in Carndonagh who prescribed some antibiotics, but after no improvement we went back today.  We ended up getting sent to Letterkenny hospital for a chest x-ray and all that medical shenanigan-type jazz.  Bad news: I spent almost all of my last day in a hospital.  Good news: I'm healthy! (Well almost healthy.. getting there, with the help of more antibiotics), and I got to see my uncle Laurence and auntie Eilish in Letterkenny for lunch on a wee hospital break.  Also Paul and I were blasting great tunes on the drive to and from Letterkenny, and also shared some great laughs, so it was not bad at all.  

The best part about leaving is being able to say that I'll be back soon! In total I'll be spending almost a month of my year in Ireland which is more than I ever have in my life and THAT is cool.  

So that's my Irish adventure. To be continued...

....Still here!

First off my most sincere apologies to any readers out there who long ago gave up on me, don't despair I have returned!!! And I am going to do my absolute best to not be gone for so long ever again.

Life has been insanity in recent times let me tell you: there was Gokul's birthday party, the discovery of Lille's greatest vintage shop in existence (and more), the theft of a most beloved bike in Roubaix, the head-to-head rivalry between a Canadian and her French history teacher, the time I went to school Saturday morning running on 3 hours of sleep and a giant bowl of coffee, hitting the 6 month mark of "Siobhan abroad," stressful university applications, stressful French school projects and presentations, a professional photoshoot, a non professional photoshoot, and everything else in between from keeping up my running to getting better and better at French to hating on chest infections.  Oh and by the way now I'm in Ireland. Surprise!

So I mean after reading all that you guys can cut me a little slack right?

So Gokul's birthday.  That was so much fun and quite hilarious.  It was fairly small, made up of mostly exchange students and members of Gokul's host family.  It was a great night of eating party dishes and chatting with friends, and soon turned into show-off-dancing-or-singing-from-your-country night.  As far as dancing goes.. India is the supreme winner.  We cut the casual party tunes and found some solid Bollywood dance tracks, and the minute Maria heard the music she bolted out to the middle of the floor and started doing her thing in front of everyone like it was as normal as anything.  So that was awesome because I felt like I was sitting front row watching the "Jai Ho" dance number from Slumdog Millionaire live.  And then it got ten times better because Gokul joined in, then we all joined in, and then there were 12 foreigners awkwardly dancing Bollywood around Gokul's host family's living room while they stood around catching it all on camera and probably wondering what they had gotten themselves into by inviting over a bunch of crazy foreigners.

photo was stolen from Liz!

Liz photo!

Liz's photo again!!

A Wednesday or two ago, in my free time, Veronica and Elise showed Liz and I to some SWEET vintage places in Vieux Lille, also bringing me farther into the heart of Vieux Lille than I'd ever been and making me realize that I should've spent more time exploring it way earlier on in exchange.  Being vintage and thrift store lovers like me, they'd gotten frustrated not knowing where they could quench their shopping desires and came up with the idea none of us had been smart enough to think of before and just googled vintage stores in Lille.. DUH.  It's such a sweet area full of trendy shops, bookstores, bars and cafes; there's even this hilarious American-themed diner that makes milkshakes of every flavour (yep Nutella's there) and has the classic greasy burger and fries dish (almost impossible to find in France outside of McDonald's).  These new discoveries mean great things for my free time adventures in the next four months... but horrible things for my suffering wallet.

Friday February 14, 2014: the day I decided my history teacher and me cannot ever be friends, the day it poured rain, the day my bike (which is really my host mom's bike) got stolen outside of art class, the day the bus came 20 minutes late, and the day I really really really didn't like Roubaix (using the word "really" thrice as opposed to writing "hate" because that just feels a little harsh to throw out there on the internet).  Not my best day of exchange... probably the worst.  First off my history teacher gave me a hard time.  He's been on my back since the beginning of exchange to work hard and participate and yada yada.  For the first two months I just couldn't understand a thing... for the next two months I was just lazy... but in recent times I have begun making an effort in his class! The problem is, he gave me this big assignment during my lazy period that was to be done and then presented (in French) in front of the class, and I conveniently forgot about it when I started actually doing some work in history.  About two weeks ago he cracked down and said that if I didn't get it done I was going to be banned from coming into his class, but would still have to make up for the lost time by spending 2-3 hours Wednesday afternoons sitting alone, bored to death, in one of St. Remi's working rooms.  He said it to me in a condescending kind of way, throwing in the odd comment about laziness too which I didn't love.  Although tempted to be a brat and deal with it out of spite, I knew my troubles would be over if I just did his huge project for him.  That started operation Siobhan-Over-Stressed because unfortunately he decided to get serious with his threats around the same time I was preparing for my Ireland trip, and starting to feel panicky about my university application deadlines.  AHH.  So that was early afternoon.  Then the rain started as Sixtine and I headed to art, the last class of the day, and I told myself all I had to do was make it home on the bike in the horrible weather and I'd be there in front of the hot fire with my tea and things would be lovely.  I walked out of the building after class to find that the lamp post which I'd locked my bike to was looking rather naked and BIKE-LESS, and my last hope of the day ending on a positive note came crashing down as I tried to restrain myself from a full out tantrum of despair and bad language.  Some of my despair may have slipped out (apologies for Sixtine who was a trooper and stood by my side during this time being a good friend, finding my rage funny and telling me it was okay to really really really not like Roubaix at that moment in time).  Then the bus came 20 minutes late.  20 minutes in which I would have already been home, made tea, and in front of the fire if I still had my (my host mom's) bike.  Not my brightest hour.. or 12 hours.

In other news, yesterday marked the 6 month mark of shenanigans.  The day before marked 4 months before heading home.  WHAAAAT.

Ty's host mom gave him a photo shoot coupon as a present for Christmas for him and his friends, so a week or so ago Veronica, David, Liz and I all went with him to this giant studio where we got our makeup done and then did our thang as models.  It was funny because it was clearly one of the studios people go to for family photos with cheesy smiles and candid "we love eachother effortlessly but this is definitely posed" kind of shots, and we went in saying we were gonna get the funniest photos we possibly could.  The poor photographer would tell us to do a pose and we'd often do the complete opposite, or not even hear her, I don't think she was used to a group like us.  We ended up choosing 5 photos that were hilarious and probably nothing like what the studio had ever produced for anyone, but we had fun and I think we gave them a laugh or two and that's all that matters.  I'll get those photos up here when I can get them from Ty.

iPod photo preview of the photo shoot shenanigans

One Thursday we didn't have afternoon classes because none of the teachers showed up, so the girls and I went to Ana's after school for a makeshift photo shoot and a lot of n'importe quoi.  That was fun.

M A R I O N

S I X T I N E 

A N A 

C O P I N E S 

Like mentioned above, the past 2ish weeks have been insaaaaanity.  I have a huge application for a university next year that's due on March 1st and it's been a side project I've been trying to put time into for the past month.  The problem is that it's probably one of the most important commitments in my life right now, but it couldn't take first priority because of things like threatening history teachers and other aspects of my French life that had to come first simply because that is my life right now.  On top of history, I've had 2 other projects and 1 presentation to be done recently (since I've decided to put in an effort I've actually done them and gotten them in ON TIME which deserves a pat on the back) for lyceé.  I also decided to cancel my Euro tour with the exchange students in April in order to go on vacation to Île de Ré on the west coast of France with my current host family the Dervilles (it was a long process deciding what I wanted to do and weighing the pros and cons of each, but I'm happy with my decision in the end) and that involved a lot of emailing, phone calls, and paperwork.  Then there was preparation for my Ireland trip (began 2 days ago) that also involved a lot of emails and paperwork.  Planning for my mum and sis to visit in March (more paperwork and emails you guessed it!).  Then I'm also just trying my best not to slide off the social face of the planet.  I don't want this to sound like a petty "oh my god I'm too popular" complaint... but I've begun to find that there are not enough hours in a day to see and talk to all of my friends.  Balancing time with all my friends from all the different circles and aspects of my exchange is HARD and I've been feeling guilty recently because of the amount of times I hear "so.. where have you been recently..?" I have friends I haven't seen in weeks and didn't even get to say bye to before leaving France for 2 weeks! Anyway... I can summarize this paragraph in about one word: STRESS

For those of you still reading at this point.. CONGRATS!

My stress led to headaches which led to a sore throat which led to a chest infection.  All in my last week before taking the flight to Dublin on Friday.  Not.  Cool.  To be honest it's not even the physical discomfort that's annoying, it's mostly just frustrating because it's keeping me from running.

BUT...!

I have been stressed, yes. I have been busy, yes.  But I have stayed positive and kept up happiness (except for that one dreaded Friday) and now I am in Ireland which is AWESOME.  Stay tuned for a blog post about that.  Coming soooooon!

Bisous from Siobhan in Ireland :)

OH YEAH: Pancakes

The craziest/weirdest/made-me-have-a-bunch-of-deep-thoughts type thing happened on Friday.  We didn't have classes because of what's called a journée pédagogique, which I'm preeetty sure is like a teacher convention day or something along those lines ...(?) Anyway there wasn't any school WOO.  Except for a field trip to see the Yves Saint Laurent movie with my art class around 3pm, which basically felt like going to see a movie but finding my whole art class in the theatre, so that doesn't count as school.

So there I was on the cloudy Friday afternoon stopped on my bike at a red light in traffic, about halfway done the route to school, when this scruffy, long-haired, dirty and homeless-looking man rounded the corner that was right next to where I was stopped and headed in a bee-line in my direction.  He was walking, and he didn't speed up or anything, just casually strolled right up to me.

Now, like I've mentioned, I go to school in Roubaix.  It's a long way from the homely suburbs I live in back home with lots of places I wouldn't go alone.  One time Marion (with her long blond hair, kind of rare in Roubaix), Ana and me (two brunettes) were scanning our passes to take the metro from La Grand Place in Roubaix, when a sketchy looking guy said hi to Marion.  When she ignored him (like most of us girls would probably do) and tried to keep walking, he leaned over and spat on her hair.  He spat.  Marion, as is normal, did not love it. Her and I were still trying to get over our shock at what happened when Ana, who lives in Roubaix, gave her shoulders a quick shrug and said "Well, that's Roubaix" like it was about as normal as anything.

So now with that little backstory I shall continue.  Rewind to Siobhan stopped on bike at red light with homeless man walking in my direction.  Because it was Roubaix and and because of situations like the one with Marion and because I'm a female and I was being approached by a strange man I will admit I had a quick surge of fear and tensed up, but I stayed where I was on my bike confident the light would change and give me my getaway if it came to it (may or may not have been a little over-dramatic...) The man walked right up just till he was about a foot away, and did the most unexpected thing.  He pulled out a 50cent coin, balanced it on my gloved hand that was clutching my handlebar, and kept walking, leaving me confused and speechless with 50 cents still balanced on the top of my hand.  He was gone faster than he'd came and I couldn't wrap my head around what had happened fast enough to say thanks before the light changed and I had to quickly slip the coin in my jacket before continuing my route.  Like what?! So that happened.  I still don't get it.  Maybe he's just your regular Joe and had 50 cents too many.  Or maybe he's a billionaire disguised as a man who lives on the streets who likes to confuse and make the day of exchange students all in one go.  The event was meaningless but you can bet your best 50 cents (ha.. ha..) that I spent the rest of my bike ride in deep philosophical thought and analyzation.

So far I've been having another really great weekend.  Last night I went to another Rally with Louise and hung out and danced all night with her and her really cool group of friends.  I also ran into my friend Daria from Russia which was cool because we both kind of fell back on each other and spoke English every time we were all French-ed out (it's not cheating I swear).  Despite another late night I got myself up at the ripe old hour of 8:15am this morning so I could make pancakes for the host family.  Edouard's birthday was on Thursday and he'd made a special request that we have pancakes for breakfast today seen as today is the day chosen to actually celebrate and do presents and all that fun birthday jazz.  So there I was playing some chill tunes and pancake-ing away while the rest of the family slept.  The different family members woke up at different times to the smell of pancakes and arrived upon a legit STACK of pancakes when they came down to the kitchen.  Each one of them reacted differently but with the same level of stoke which was cool. Also did I mention there was real Canadian MAPLE SYRUP.

And that was just breakfast.  For Edouard's birthday lunch Valentine made this delicious salmon followed by a cake called the Merveilleux that is really well known in the Lille area (and probably around France too but I don't know for sure) as basically being the alpha and omega of boss cakes.  We're talking delicious, creamy, chocolatey, meringue-y goodness all whipped up in one dessert of happiness.  Check. It. Out.

photo courtesy of google

All I can say is thank heavens I stay active during the week because these weekends of heavenly indulgence would otherwise have me teetering on the brink of serious weight gain.  But I mean it's delicious so who's complaining.

Happy Sunday! Go eat some chocolate :)