Before I tell you about the last two months of my travels, let me just take a moment to sincerely apologize for the fact that I've only posted once since I've been gone. If it'll help, I'll promise you my firstborn. Or how about the pictures that I'll finally post at the end? Even though I thought it would be pretty easy to get into internet cafes once a week or so to update, that definitely proved not to be the case, as most of the farms I stayed on didn't have internet, and when I was able to get online I spent the time I had frantically searching for hostels or booking tickets. Yeah, that's right, you all take backseat to my desire to have somewhere to sleep.
So, since I have a lot of catchup to do and not much inclination to be as detailed as I was before, here is a (relatively) brief summary:
Part Four: Ireland, continued
If you can remember back this far (or are that interested in re-reading my blog) I left you all on the brink of meeting Kate in Belfast. After waiting for two hours in the freezing cold to meet her bus, I finally received a text from her saying that she was safe and snug in the hostel, and where was I? Eventually I forgave her for leaving me in downtown Belfast at midnight, and we enjoyed our time in the fascinating city, doing a lot of walking, only a little eating, and even less sightseeing (using a Lonely Planet guide four years old apparently does have its drawbacks). Deciding that we hated our hostel, we left for a nicer, but more expensive one across the street, and spent the entire next morning complaining to the very nice owner about how much money we were spending in this poor, but very expensive, city. Taking pity on us, Arnie offered us a modified WWOOF scheme--if we cleaned and did a bit of gardening, we could have a free room for as long as we wanted. Eagerly we took him up on the offer and stayed for a week in Belfast, forgoing Dublin and the Dingle peninsula (which was, according to Kate, the false pretense I used to drag her to Ireland in the first place). Arnie was an incredibly friendly host and took us sailing on the Irish sea. However, we did eventually have to leave Belfast for cheaper pastures (they don't get any greener in Ireland) and we found ourselves at Jeremy Baines' house near Bantry, in the westernmost corner of Co. Cork.
Jeremy's house was a WWOOF farm of sorts. He proclaimed himself to be an organic home designer, and his house was indeed beautiful, creative, and very green. However, Kate and I weren't happy at his "farm", as he had outright lied in his emails (ie "Sure, you can ride our horses!") and the living situation was less than ideal. To make a very long, unnecessarily drama-filled story short, we asked to leave after only a few days and shortly found ourselves exploring the Rock of Cashel, for centuries the nucleus of government, then religious power, in Ireland.
Part Six: Sunrise Farm
Soon we found ourselves in Limerick, intending to catch a bus to Skariff where our next farm would collect us. Unfortunately, as it was a bank holiday, the one daily bus wasn't running, so we decided to hitch. But, as it was still early, we first wanted to take a look round the city famed for its repulsion as a tourist destination. And, being the seasoned travelers we are, as we strolled back into the station to collect our bags after a good four hours spent killing time, I suddenly realized that the sun would go down in about an hour, leaving us with this simple choice: hitch in the dark to a hazy destination carrying 30 pound packs along an unknown route, or stop making stupid decisions. For once in my life, I chose the latter, and, unable to find a place to stay for less than 70 euro, we hired a taxi for the 90-minute journey to Skariff, which was still cheaper.
Sunrise farm was alright as a WWOOF place. We spent most of our time gardening, cooking, or using a mixture of hemp and lime the consistency of tuna mayonnaise to build a meditation hall. I would have enjoyed myself had it not been for constantly being told off for the most idiotic, irrelevant things: how we washed dishes, what shelf we put our shoes on, and breathing too loudly (no joke). The one redeeming factor, that made me reluctant to leave Sunrise farm, was the neighbor Pat, who owned between 50 and 70 free-roaming horses and graciously let us ride them whenever we wanted. So, I happily spent my afternoons galloping to town and back, all by myself as Kate was allergic. My happiest moment so far: riding on a bog road in the dark, watching the stars as I listened to Harry Potter and ate Irish chocolate. My definition of heaven, right there. But soon we left, a) because we were tired of being taken for granted and b) because we were ready to go see...
Part Seven: Dublin
Dublin! The city of endless construction cranes and kegs of Guinness. We didn't do a whole lot here, as we were tired from the last WWOOF farm, but Dublin does mark a milestone: the first time I've written my own day-by-day itinerary in order to make my time spent somewhere most efficient. Of course, I was under the influence of overly organized Kate, and we didn't actually follow the itinerary, but hey! it's a start! Since nothing too interesting happened here, except me getting the worst haircut of my life, I'm going to skip right along.
Part Eight: Athens (I can finally take off my longjohns!)
I arrived in Athens late at night, nervous about the language barrier. But as the plane taxied in, I saw an IKEA, and suddenly realized that all would be OK. Greece may not share the same alphabet, but some things are universal. Too bad it's IKEA.
Athens was great (we're in the middle of November, now). I loved the feeling of wandering down endless narrow streets only to turn the corner and stumble into a 1500-year-old temple. I loved the ever-present Acroplis, even though I missed the museum at the top. I loved the cheap food (1.10 euro for a gyro, and even though I don't eat meat, it was worth it). After all the pomp, rigidity, and cleanliness of Western countries, arriving in Greece, which is an interesting mix between global north and global south, felt refreshingly familiar. It's something about the nagging, sycophantic friendliness of the street vendors and all the feral cats that makes me feel right at home.
Anyway, after doing nothing much but visit the Acropolis and accessories, take the lamest fanicular ever up to a monastery with startlingly clear views of the Mediterranean, and putter around the streets with new friends, I met Maya and we left for another WWOOF place in the Peloponnese. It was a harrowing experience to get there, as all the information on the trains was in Greek only, and our tickets, sold literally two minutes before the train left, were also in Greek, with no explanation. This left us wondering, "Err...how long is it going to take? Where do we transfer? Why do we each have four tickets?" But we figured it out, after thoroughly irritating the conductor by asking, "Amaliada?" every fifteen minutes.
Part Nine: Amaliada
This farm was one of the better ones. Maya and I slept in the same bed (as the other one was constantly dripped on from a leak in the roof) in a straw-bale room down in the barn, sans electricity or hot water. As the barn was the domain of the dozens of cats and dogs, we couldn't leave our room without a few of them slipping in between our legs and diving for any food we may have left out--bread and cornflakes were their favorite, but they didn't turn up their noses at carrots or peppers either, which meant that we had to ask for far more food than we actually got to eat. We spent a good part of each day picking olives and horte, dandelion greens, of which the family consumed incredible amounts.
Jorge and Jennifer had two girls ages four and one and a half, and while we were there they were baptized in an extremely orthodox Greek church. This was extremely interesting to watch, mostly because of the incredibly ostentatious presentation of the girls. We were taken out to lunch afterward, and then went for a swim in the Mediterranean and walked back into town. Amaliada was tiny and we quickly made friends, including one boy who served us Gyros and then a few days later found us in a coffee shop, paid our bill, and sat with us--in virtual silence--for a good fifteen minutes, too shy to say much. I only wish I knew the Greek word for awkward...
At the baptism, we met some American expats from Seattle, who took us under their wing and to ancient Olympia, where the first ever games were held. Maya and I took a lap around the stadium, of course.
We stayed here for a good two weeks, eating delicious fresh food drowned in olive oil and drinking their homemade organic wine. Maya left for another farm while I stayed for another (suddenly lonely) day before heading off for a short few days of sightseeing.
Part Ten: Nafplio
In Nafplio, I stayed, for the first time in months, all by myself in--gasp!--a single! I spent a few days exploring the narrow, Italian-esque alleys, snacking on Spanikopita and avoiding the very...."active" Greek men. The highlight was climbing the 999 steps up to Acronafplio, the fortress of Palamidi, which was absolutely deserted. I enjoyed exploring on my own, feeling as if I was the first to stumble upon ancient, muddy cisterns or pitch-black, crumbling tunnels. After getting a nice tan in one of the first really sunny days in Greece, I took a long walk along an orangey-red cliff being bombarded by the green Mediterranean.
Part Eleven: Surprise ending!
The next day, I headed back to my hostel in Athens where I took a quick trip to the National Museum to see what had been excavated in all those great ruins I'd been exploring, before heading off for an early night, as I had a flight to catch the next morning! At 6am, I took off for Munich, then Denver, and finally Spokane, where I enjoyed some much-wanted home comforts...like free food and sleeping in. Christmas with the family was just what I needed to recharge my rather jaded batteries before my next adventure--three months in Granada, Spain, intensively studying Spanish. Hopefully, I'll live in an apartment with Spanish-speaking roommates. In fact, I leave tomorrow! And before you ask, yes, I am planning on returning for Spring quarter...my ticket flies me back into Spokane on March 27th, three days before the next quarter starts.
I'll try to keep you updated, but you know what that means...
PS I have finally, under much nagging, uploaded my pictures onto the internet. They are on Facebook, for those of you who have it. (Whiny Sydney, this was for you.) For those of you who don't, here are the links to my albums:
Ireland and London:
http://washington.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2219321&l=1edcd&id=10721723
WWOOFing in England:
http://washington.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2219328&l=797e2&id=10721723
Northern Ireland:
http://washington.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2219332&l=bbf7d&id=10721723
Cormac and Seamus's Adventures:
http://washington.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2219336&l=1cdfc&id=10721723
Greece:
http://washington.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2219341&l=b57a7&id=10721723
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