RANDOMOCITY :: 08/24/09 (IRELAND EDITION)

I must first preface this special Randomocity with a thank you. To Shannon and JT - Thanks for hosting us, pointing us in the right direction of things to see, and for planting the seed in my brain last winter to make this trip. To Lori, Houlette, Kristen, and Sheel - Thanks for one of the most unforgettable weeks of my life. This adventure was what it was because of each one of you. All six of you hold a special place in my heart and always will.

So first things first, before this trip started, I thought we could use a theme song. Something that would get us excited, something that would sum up our trip, something that just sorta captured the moment. The weekend before this trip, I made a pilgrimage to Whitewater with Will to visit his girlfriend and her friends. This song "I Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas came on and little did I know how great of a theme song it would become. Early the next week, I suggested to our Ireland posse that we make this song the theme song for the trip, and went to Best Buy to buy the CD. Well, 10 days later, I think most, if not all of the Ireland crew can agree, this song will forever remind us of Ireland. Of course the first couple nights, we played it on JT's computer before we went out. Then on our way back from the Cliffs of Moher, what should we hear over the bus's speakers? Yup, you guessed it. Then on our way to Dublin, on yet another bus, what song did we here in the middle of the day? Yup. And at the Czech Inn, in the Temple Bar district, after a long night of libating, what did we hear on the dancefloor? Indeed. In Belfast, at about 2 AM, on the British countdown of top hits, what was #1? Yuppers! The next morning, when Sheel and I were eating the traditional Irish breakfast at the Premier Inn, what was playing over the speakers? How'd you guess? We must have heard that song every single place we went. I guess it didn't hurt that is was #1 in Ireland/England at the time, but still, it was amazing how that song seemed to take on a life of its own and became the soundtrack for our lives for just one week. Anyhoo, since we've been back, we've all heard "I Gotta Feeling" in all of our respective home states, and not surprisingly have texted or facebooked each other about how we miss Ireland. That song forever will remind me of JT, Shannon, Sheel, Houlette, Lori, and Kristen and the magical 10 days we spent together.

Before I go any further, I must give thanks to the man upstairs for looking out for me yet again. Thanks to road construction on the Wisconsin border, I decided to take some backroads to Sheel's place the day we were to fly out. As many of you know, I have a checkered past with Illinois law enforcement, including, but not limited to, a couple unpaid speeding tickets, a handful of unpaid parking tickets, and a minor "situation" with the Illinois toll authority. Needless to say, I have often wondered what would happen should I ever get pulled over in Illinois. Well, as luck would have it, I apparently made an illegal pass on some po dunk road in Grayslake and was promptly pulled over by a cop in a truck. He asked for my license and asked where I was going. I told him O'Hare and then Ireland and apologized for apparently missing the sign. He then noticed my Wisconsin Rugby t-shirt and asked "Do you play rugby?" I said yes and he then informed me that he plays for the Chicago Lions, a superb team that plays in the Super League. We recounted a couple rugby tales and he finally sent me off with a warning and a "Have a great time in Ireland!" Rugby. The gift that keeps on giving.

First thing you should know about Ireland. They have different terms for different things. Here are song examples. Mum = mom. Carriageways = highways. Chips = french fries. Crisps = chips. Petrol = Gasoline. Queue = line. Where's the craic? = What's happenin'/ What's the good word? (Craic is the Irish word for banter, good times, and fun)

In Ireland, people let their dogs poop wherever they want, and rarely, if ever, clean up after them.

Ireland has no smoking in their bars. Haven't for a couple years. How did Wisconsin finally just get on board with this?

The Irish like corn on everything! Even at a Subway in Galway, they had corn as a topping for a sub. I wonder what their fascination is with a vegetable that just ends up in the toilet anyways.

Never got shepard's pie in Ireland. I ordered it once. And they were out. Seems as implausible as Tokyo being out of sushi, but it did indeed happen. On the plus side, we all got our fill of fish and chips. And while tartar sauce was hard to come by, we certainly didn't miss it because the malted vinegar was dynamite!

You don't tip bartenders in Ireland. If you do, you're actually hitting on them. Tipping is acceptable at meals, although 10% is considered really generous.

People in Ireland are very fit. It was rare to see an overweight person anywhere in the whole country. I attribute this to little fast food options, people walk everywhere, and Guinness (the national drink) has less calories than any beer besides the "lites".

There is a new trend in Guinness drinking to add black currant. It certainly makes Guinness taste even better, but I was told by local males that this is the true sign of a nancy boy.

On the topic of nancy boys, the highlight of the first night had to be Sheel, three sheets to the wind to be sure, at the Crane Bar. JT and Shannon brought us to this low key, traditional Irish pub not too far from their place and we got to hear some old timers serenade the bar with some old school tunes. Towards the end of the evening, one Irishman looks across the bar (Sheel was in the middle) and says, "Are you done drinkin'? Awwww, look at the lil nancy boy". Sheel, looks at one guy, then looks at the other and says "I think your friend just called you a Nazi boy". Me and JT busted out laughing and knew that it was time for ALL of us to leave.

If only I could code an accent into some of these quotes, this Randomocity would be so much better.

One funny occurence on the trip was Kristen getting repeatedly cut in queues. It seemed to happen everywhere we went and poor Kristen took it like a champ. ATM machine? Cut. In queue for coffee? Cut. For some reason, Kristen must have some irresistable quality that just asks to be cut in front of in queues. Not sure if being larger helps, but Sheel and I had quite the opposite experience. People were typically bending over backwards to politely ask us if we were in the queue.

They aren't a big fan of ice in Ireland. Rarely, if ever, do you get an icy cold drink. If you ask for ice, you get like two cubes.

Quite the rental car debacle in Dublin. We used busses to get around most of Ireland but thought renting a car for our Belfast leg would be a good idea. Keep in mind, they drive on the left side of the road, the steering column is on the right hand side of the car, there are roundabounts everywhere, and virtually all cars are manual. I digress....We got to the Budget rental car office and it was quite the melee. People from many different countries were shouting many different vulgarities because apparently Budget had run out of cars to rent. When I went up to the desk, they informed me that we didn't even have a reservation, which we clearly did as evidenced by my printout from the day before. In any event, I was always thankful to have Sheel and Houlette who were absolutely amazing at getting us on the right busses to the right places. We decided to hop a taxi to the Dublin airport to see if we could rent a car there. Sadly, the rental car agencies at the airport wouldn't rent a car for just one day, you had to take it for a week. So, we inquired about bussing routes and next thing we knew, were on a bus to Belfast!

Thank you John McMurtry, rabid supporter of Ulster Rugby, for meeting us at the Giants Causeway and giving us all kinds of free Ulster merchandise as well as the fantastic recommendation of the Premier Inn. Once again - Rugby, the gift that keeps on giving.

The coffee was pretty darn good on the Emerald Isle. However, they don't believe in refills and "American Coffee" is anything but American.

Those crepes we engorged the morning we left for Dublin were some of the tastiest breakfast fare I've ever had. Eastern European guys, serving a French delicacy, in an Irish college town. Rock on!

Dublin comes from the Gaelic words Dubh-Linn which translates as "dark, or black, pool". It got its name from the confluence of the River Liffey and its tributary, the River Poddle.

Perhaps one of my fondest memories from Ireland will always be my Sunday morning jog the second day we were in town. I decided to run a couple miles in the morning, down to Galway Bay before everyone woke up. Small caveat, no one and I mean NO ONE in Ireland wakes up before 9 AM. Back on point, running on the streets of Galway at 7:30 AM was truly invigorating and turned into quite the adventure. I ran about two miles and finally stopped near a lighthouse to soak in the scenery. I had my earplugs in and I just happened to glance up at an apartment and find a red headed 20-something gesturing me to come in. I took out my earplugs, and he gestured again and begged me to come up for a drink with him and his friends. I was reluctant at first, but with more prodding finally conceded. As I got to the entrance of the building I heard them all saying "I think he's an American" and "Yes, pretty sure he's an American". I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but my joie de vivre kicked in and I took a chance. When I got to the top of the stairs, I was greeted by at least twenty people, all in their 20s and 30s, all dressed in Radisson-Galway attire, clearly three sheets to the wind and wide awake. Before I could get in the door (my clothes were quite sweaty), a Guinness was put in both of my hands. The boisterous crowd informed me that they were the waitstaff and bartenders at the Radisson and they had worked till 5 AM and now were having a "nightcap". They asked me questions about where I was from and if I could make a speech. I chatted with quite a few of these fascinating persons, mainly about rugby, life in Ireland, the presidential election, and where they all hailed from. There were a couple folks there who had emigrated from Angola, Canada, France, and other places. Well, before I knew it, an hour and a half had passed and I told my new friends that it was time for me to leave, fearing my American compadres had all woken up and might be waiting on me. Since I had no camera, I tried to figure out a way I could preserve the moment and obtain some proof that this whole experience had happened. I ended up exchanging my Parkside Rugby cutoff t-shirt for a Radisson Galway shirt, complete with motivational "Yes I Can" pins and RACEWEEK TEAM written on the back (The Galway Races, Ireland's Kentucky Derby, were being held that week). I ended up walking back to JT and Shannon's place, fairly intoxicated, but the experience is one I will remember till the day I die. We ended up going to the Radisson bar the next night and I formally gave my cheesehead to the gal who's apartment the Radisson staff was partying in that fateful Sunday morning. To my new Irish friends, thanks for the memories!

I've never seen taller high heels than the ones worn by many ladies at the Galway races. Pretty sure I saw 7 and 8 inch heels. It was kinda like watching a newborn fawn get to its feet for the first time and teaching itself how to walk. Quite comical.

In Dublin, I came to the conclusion that no one actually works or has a job (besides the bartenders), people just walk around town, dressed in suits and looking important.

It was kinda neat to be in Ireland during Guinness's 250th Anniversary summer. We were given the opportunity to sign some posters at most of the bars we went to and for each signature collected, Guinness would donate 2.50 Euro to a worthy charity. We all made a pact that in 2059, if we are all still alive, we would have to go back to Ireland for Guinness's 300th Anniversary. One more thought about Guinness. I was always told it tastes better in Ireland than in the U.S. and that is a 100% true fact.

If you ever get to Dublin, you must spend a decent amount of time on Grafton St. and in the Temple Bar district. Since JT and Shannon have real jobs, they stayed behind in Galway when Kristen, Sheel, Houlette, Lori and I went to Dublin for a couple days. One of my fondest memories of Dublin was hanging out at the Temple Bar, congregating around a bronze statue of some guy we never identified, singing U2's "With Or Without You". There was just a great blend of people, great music, an amazing atmosphere, and a fantastic beer selection.

Speaking of the Temple Bar district, the one night we went ape in the imbibing department, we ended up dining at a posh Italian restaurant. Our server was Polish, very polite, and ultimately horrified by my command of Polish slang. You see, I used to work with quite a few Polish folks and they taught me phrases, ones I probably shouldn't repeat. Thanks to Kilkenney and Guinness, I felt confident to utter these phrases to our Polish server, even though I warned her they might not be PG rated. Needless to say, the gasp she expressed definitely confirmed my suspicions that I should never speak Polish. Ever. That same evening, at that same restaurant, we ended up getting sat next to a French couple. As luck would have it, I took French all though middle and high school. I was excited to use my limited French in a practical way! Much like my command of the Polish language, I've also been taught some interesting phrases in French by my French-Canadian chum, Val. In any event, I carried on a fairly decent conversation with our French dinner friends and when we left, they told me that if I was ever in France, I'd be able to get by just fine. When we left, I remarked to Sheel "We are in Ireland, dining at an Italian restaurant, with an Polish server, and having French dinner conversation. Wow."

The Cliffs of Moher and the Giants Causeway were some of the most unique and breathtaking scenery I've ever seen. While both of these geological marvels are heavily patronized by tourists, there are certainly areas off the beaten path which can be explored. At the Cliffs of Moher, Sheel and I disregarded the sign that said "Go No Further". Why? Because quite a few other adventurous types were pressing on and we wanted to live a little as well. Needless to say, the view only got better, and we got some great pictures. Similarly, at the Giants Causeway, there was a lightly worn path up the side of a fairly tall hill. I'm not sure most people could have climbed it, but Houlette and I decided to give it a shot. After a rigorous climb, we ended up on the top, with a magnificent view of the entire landscape. We ended up getting fantastic photos here as well, and I guess the moral of the story here is that it sometimes pays to blaze your own trail.

The jury is still out on whether or not we ended up in a gay bar in Dublin. Not quite sure we'll ever be certain but I did have a great conversation with some fellow from South Africa.

If you ever go to Europe, and you change US dollars into Euros at your own financial institution before you leave, don't let them send you on your way with a 500 Euro bill. That's literally $750 in US money, and suffice it to say, not easily changeable at a bar in Ireland.

One truly funny event occured the night we went to say hi to my Irish friends at the Radisson. All of us were sitting around in the lobby, drinking our ciders and beers, and we glanced over at this dad, sitting comfy in his chair, beer in one hand, and slowing nodding off. His kids were running around his chair, but he clearly was bushed, and our entire group couldn't stop watching him as we knew what the end result would be. Why we didn't record a movie, I'll never understand, but we slowly watched this dad doze off and finally the beer in his hand tipped and spilt all over his lap. Not surprisingly, this woke him up quickly and we were all dying of laughter at the event we had just witnessed.

Houlette made the observation that flower boxes on window sills were quite popular. After she mentioned that to me, I did indeed notice planters of flowers EVERYWHERE in Ireland. Pretty darn cool.

Anywhere I went that people asked where I was from, I wasn't sure whether to say the United States or Wisconsin. I settled on Wisconsin and ironically enough, many people knew, or thought they knew, where my home state is located. Any clue as to how they knew where Wisconsin was? That 70s Show! Yup, that's right. Fez, Eric, Kelso and the gang play on reruns quite frequently in Ireland and that apparently has put Wisconsin on the map in other countries. Yay.

For some reason, the music on our trip added an extra dimension everywhere we went. The night we went to Messrs McGuire in Dublin, we were informed the kitchen was closed (we had already eaten so no big deal), and then out of nowhere, Billy Ocean starts blasting through the speakers. Add to that the all-Asian waitstaff and you have yourself a truly random, yet comical moment. Another funny musical moment was on our bus ride to Belfast. Thankfully, between Dublin and Belfast, they have a nice carriageway, and the scenery ranges from normal suburbia to fields and fields of sheep. After a nice peaceful nap, we finally got to Belfast and what was the song that started piping through my earplugs you might ask? Ain't Nothin' But A G Thing. I can't think of a song that is more antithetical to the Irish culture than that classic jam from our Compton, CA born buddies, Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre. Certainly an amusing moment as I entered the capital of Northern Ireland.

I will never forget Jazz In My Hands, Mother Lover, or our O Face night at Garvey's. Never.

Ireland, specifically Irish hotels, have some fantastic inventions that for some reason haven't made their way to the United States yet. One is that you must put your room card in a thermostat-looking device right inside the door or none of your lights will work. It's not too hard to figure out that this is to conserve energy and when you leave your room, you take your room key with you, and thus the lights all turn off (as well as all the outlets too I believe). Quite a nifty little invention to save energy I must say. We also ran into a towel rack at the Premier Inn in Belfast that was actually heated. Imagine that. After a cold Wisconsin snow storm, heading home, taking a hot shower and drying yourself off with a warm towel. Why do we not have this technology yet in the U.S.?

In the bad friend department, I introduce you to the Future Streets of Galway 8K race. Sara and Shannon had signed up to run it the final night we were there (even though Shannon was a lil bit under the weather). It probably doesn't help that the guys did our own thing most of the afternoon, including bar hopping (day drinking) all over Galway. Needless to say, we were a wee bit intoxicated when the gals were going to start their race. Being as we wanted to be good friends, and in JT's case, a good husband, we gave the ladies strong words of encouragement and set a place to meet them after the race. Houlette said that 45 minutes would be a good time for her so basically, we needed to be near the finish line 45 minutes after the start of the race. Mission Not Accomplished. As soon as the gals were out of eyeshot, me, Sheel, JT, and Lori retreated to the closest watering hole we could find. Little did we know we'd run into some fascinating people and completely lose track of time. I spoke with an older guy from Zimbabwe about Obama and the state of American politics and the other three chatted it up with some English folk. Thankfully, Lori kept herself quasi-sober and realized that an hour had passed. She herded us all to the exit and lit a candle under our butts to get a move on as we were already late. As we got closer to the meeting point, I realized pretty quickly that we probably missed Shannon and Sara's finish. JT tried to calm me by saying that Shannon should be a little behind Sara so we might still have time. At that very moment, I saw Sara (quasi-look of disgust/disbelief) and right next to her was Shannon (smoke eminating from her ears). I said "JT, I think Shannon's right next to Sara" to which he replied "Ooooooooh, we messed up". Only he didn't say messed, but you get the idea. Of course Houlette ran the 8K in under 40 minutes and Shannon did fantastic as well and where were their supporting fans? No comment. All I can say is bless Lori because without her, me, Sheel and JT would probably STILL be in that bar, or maybe under it, and being even worse friends.

I will always cherish that last day we spent in Galway. Getting haircuts and shaves, bar hopping with the guys, watching South Africa vs. Australia Tri-Nations rugby action (live!), kicking off our flippy floppies on the River Corrib, feeding the swans, drinking Bulmers while eating subs, smoking those tasty Cubans, going out to dinner with everyone (Kristen had already gone home - boo)....*sigh* a tear just hit my keyboard.

I'm glad Lori got through her final night in Ireland unaccosted. Whew, that was a close one.

One final random note. On the way home, Sheel's name came up on the Do Not Fly list for Homeland Security. I always knew that kid was trouble.

Well folks, this is probably it till i get back from the Libations and Ribaldry Urban Camping Trip. Catch ya in a week or so.