Road Trip Ireland

The Crew

"Archibald Thatcher"
Logistics/General Voice of Reason

"The Mean"
Cook/The Decider

Cadbury Goodness & "Old Martha"
Choc treat & Motorhome Mother (we are still trying to get her back to the nursing home we stole her from)


"SleepyMonster"
Question Asker/Animal Whisperer

"Murdock"
Disgruntled RV Driver/Itinerant living consultant

The occasion? The arrival of 3 Chicagoan friends. As requested they landed bearing no formal plan, only the expectation of good times ahead. A bit of pre-departure talk among ourselves concluded that although we were all still mildy awesome, our prime of coolness had probably been declining since the glorious college years. Good thing our new buddy Keith, who was to rent us his motorhome, also possessed a Back To the Future DeLorean car completely fitted out with a Flux Capacitor. Ready to transport us back to our former glory.

Although Keith got high marks in street cred for his badass ride, he came up short in the judgement department when he handed me the keys to his motorhome.
Cause we were off like a pack of Banshees*!

*We found out during the trip that a Banshee is in fact a spirit in Irish mythology who appears to announce someone's death, which was a fact unknown to me and yet another revelation that I don't understand the meaning and origin of most of the expressions I use.

In my excitement I jumped ahead a bit. Before departing Belfast in the Party Palace, the crew and I rented a wee car and drove over to County Fermanagh to do a CouchSurf with the Whaley's, the family I initially surfed with back in February. The type of people that put you at ease within 10 minutes and feel thoroughly attached by day's end. They were kind enough to host us all and give Shane, Bridget, and Mary their first CS experience. Although we only had the afternoon and evening with them, it was enough time to see the nearby Necarne castle and drop in on my friend Niamh's uncle who runs the town's hotel/pub and is regionally famous for ruffling conventional feathers by organizing a parade of turkeys through the town and holding a wolf whistling competition soon with Miss Northern Ireland as the bait. I am sure he has some good stories to tell, should one be able to understand what he is saying.
And so after our stay with the Whaleys, we headed back to Belfast to return the car and pick up our home on wheels. For the first day our compass pointed North, with stops to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge and Ireland's only World Heritage Site--The Giant's Causeway before we found some of our brethren and parked the RV just outside the Northern city with 3 names--LondonDerry, Derry, and the postmodern Stroke City, for those who refuse to the passive political game.

The first couple nights of RV docking put us in coastal RV parks and out of the possiblity for town carousing. Lucky for us, the Party Palace was equipped with a Disco in the back of it. With a U-shaped lounge and 2x2ft dance floor, the Party Palace was an apt abode for spontaneous fun and hadn't a group of men so politely burrowed my last disco ball back in Turkey, the Da Club in the RV would have been fully fitted.

The next few days brought us through Donegal and down the west coast before we set us shop in Galway. Galway's charm kept us there for 2 nights, with highlights being the repeated telling of the legend of Billy Lawless in town pubs, the gathering and cooking of sea fare (probably tainted), and our consorting with a certain Galway Hooker--the beer that is.
After Galway we headed down to the Dingle Penninsula to check out the berries down there and also to experience the area that had been so widely recommended to us. Also met up with my friend Niamh D , who was there camping with a friend on their Easter Break. The last night saw us in Dublin and from there most of the crew stayed to await there flight while I sprinted back to Belfast to return the suprisingly intact RV and hastily pack up my life for the next departure. A great trip made memorable by the unique personalities hailing from Chitown. This blog is missing many pics and stories, so it will be continously updated for awhile. I just wanted to lay the base down before leaving.

Belfast Visitors & Another English Jaunt

Despite worried emails from their respective mothers about the recent tumultuous happenings in Northern Ireland, I convinced my friends Nick and Amy Decenso to make a stroll up to Belfast to check the place out for themselves. As they were to be my first official visitors, I wanted to make their stay as pleasant as possible and decided to undertake the activity I hate the most: house cleaning. At this point in my life it has become apparent that I have to adapt to the concept of hosting married friends in my places of residence. Sadly, gone are the days when a case of beer, package of Bratwurst, and bare couches sufficed as hospitality to derelict friends. I guess the book of life turned a page unnoticed on old Brian awhile back and I am now finally catching up to the natural progression of life's formalities. Now don't take this as an indictment against the Decensos, as Nick and Amy are about as easy going as they come and would care little about the state my abode, rather I only raise this point to reflect where I am, or trying to be at in my life. So I divided the project into 3 phases, lasting as many days and got the flat in entertaining shape, or gave it my best at least. God help the poor soul who opens up the closet in the spare bedroom next.

Nick and Amy's arrival to Belfast for a couple nights brought the opportunity to visit a few of the pubs I have been wanting to see in Belfast and "officially" eat in the restaurant below my flat. It was good to spend some quality time with Nick and Amy as the last time I had seen them both together was at their wedding in September.

A few days after Nick and Amy left, I left Ireland again and went with my boss to call upon several auction houses in England and Wales. As the only visible person in the first half of life that I came across in all these auction houses, I was able to deduce the primary reason for buying and displaying antiques must have some to do with feeling younger. One has to feel at least a bit fresher in their days standing in front of a 200 year old bookshelf or desk. I have also concluded that the business of antiques is based on ridiculous perceptions of value and speculation. You mean that sloppy excuse for a water color painting is worth $10,000 but my prized Huey Lewis and the News record is worth nothing? Baloney. Also, the opportunity for unscrupulous behavior of buyers and sellers alike in the auctions is a enough to turn off a saint like myself from delving into its depths professionally.
While gone in England, two milestones passed: one was my half-birthday on the 27th. Yes, you missed it you bastards. And the next was the blog received its 20,000 page hit. What does this mean? Absoulutely nothing. But the site's board members thought I should acknowledge it.
Anyways, while in London during the trip, I got to do a little sightseeing. Expecting little satisfaction to come from a visit to a mall, I was shocked at what I saw in Harrods in London. Opera singing staff in the "food court" as well as serenading women as you ascend on the elevators made this place give the outlandishness of things in Dubai a run for its money. I got to further participate in this fantasy world when my boss decided to celebrate what I presume to be a wildly unprofitable antique expedition by treating us to a champagne luncheon in Harrods. An appropriate celebration of my half-bday I must say.

In unrelated news, I was tilting the Bacos canister into my mouth today when I noticed the label said Suitable for Vegetarians on it. I mean, its bad enough that Bacos bacon chips actually contain no real pork product, but do they have to shove it in my face that it soley consists of chemicals combined to give it that flavor. Is there a vegetarian out there eating Bacos? Correct me if I am wrong, but aren't there two types of vegetarians-- some for reasons of animal suffering, etc. and those who do it for health reasons. I cannot imagine that eating chemically altered Whoknowswhat is tempting to either group.


The level of excitement is heating up again. This upcoming Saturday a rigorously selected crew of Chicago misfits are landing in Ireland and pending their successful passage through Irish customs, will be joining me for a barnstorming tour of whats still unseen on this island. After that is a major geographical jump for me. But we can talk about that later.

Probably Not Suitable for Vegetarians,
BQ

Life in The Big Smoke

as Belfast is sometimes referred to. Well, I officially feel a bit settled here. My goal to familiarize myself with the whole city was more or less met when I finally hiked up the Cavehill yesterday and took in the panoramic views of the city and surrounding area. It was also clear enough that I could see all the way across the Irish Sea to Scotland.

Actually, I guess in my getting acquainted with the city I failed to notice until today the name of the Asian restaurant just down the road from my house. Those asians sure are funny.

Things have been going well on the employment side of things. Besides bringing in the bacon, work has been doubling as a continuing education. My daily work sidekick Malachy has been is a weath of good advice ("Never look a gift horse in the mouth; A blind man on a galloping horse couldn't see that mistake we just made")in addition to having been proven to be quite a source of information in regards to what life was growing up during "The Troubles" here in Belfast. Riots, bombings, knee-capping IRA men, and a divided city was all apart of normal life. The city is not that big, so more or less he can tell second to third-hand stories of just about every major event that occured here.

Beside the work Malachy and I are doing restoring an old Victorian room for use for private dining, I also occassionally fill in on the floor at the restaurant. The convenience of the restaurant's location beneath my flat keeps me fed well and occasionally entertained--either by the nightly Billy Joe-esque piano man or the chef and some regulars staying late night to sing and guitar Irish songs.

Tonight, I am heading with my boss over to England to do and quick lap around the country to pick up antiques he has purchased in online auctions. Will return friday only to immediately head for the Aran Islands for festival of sorts. I'll take take notes on the experience for you.

Unrelated, but equally important is the formation of a new website sure to revolutionize and de-stigmatize online gambling that cripples so many of our degenerate friends. Working within U.S. gaming laws, my friend Tim Reardon and his brother and some of his friends have created at sports gambling site, where ad revenue funds your gambling. You lose nothing but are mailed a check once your starting balance of a quarter reaches $20. On the top of my head, I can think of 30 people who could and will spend the majority of their work time on this site. You know who you are.
Check it out. QUARTERBETS.COM

Keep the milk money,
BQ

Hooray For No FDA!

Although this kid is enjoying his temporary settlement in Northern Ireland, cost cutting measures must be taken in daily life to save enough cheese to produce myself in unchartered ground in a couple months. We have already spoken of frigid sleeping conditions to cut down on the energy bills, now lets talk about food. Expired ones.
Some people religiously adhere to expiration dates. I have a certain brother in law that I am pretty sure wakes up at midnight to go downstairs to rid the fridge of any “danger” that is now 2 minutes over the recommended consumption date. Well actually to be honest I think he throws it out 2 days before expiration, but you get my drift. I mean really, is the "Best By" date just a friendly suggestion or does stuff really turn into inedible matter at the stroke of midnight?
For those who throw culinary caution into the wind, a wealth of savings can be had by developing an inability to read or care about mostly arbitrary expiration dates. Born a picky eater, it has only come to me recently to consume just about anything. This combined with having apprencticed under notorious deal finder Matt Kopp (I am pretty sure he used to bring his own price sticker gun to the store in addition to purposely denting cans one day to return to buy them in the damaged goods section the next day) has made pragmatic eating the trend as of recent. Ever see something at the grocery store that expires the next day and wonder what is to come of the food the next day? Well here in Belfast the good Arabic family that runs Bestsellers Grocery either nabs the stuff out of the dumpster at the regular stores or buys these goods for next to nothing and puts them on display in their own store. Either way, I don't really care as long as I can continue to be able to buy canned good for 15 cents and pounds of bacon for a Pound.

The place is freaking amazing. Name brands galore, all with varying lengths of dates past that I try not to look at. Obviously the meats, cheeses, and milk have to be consumed in a timely basis, but other than that whats 2 weeks on stuff that is expired by 20 months? See that yogurt? Well it wasn't pro-biotic before, but it certainly is now.

The biggest delimma of today was when I stumbled upon a commercial size tin of stadium-grade Nacho Cheese. Although it would have taken me a month of daily nacho eating to finish it, I sat and comtemplated how for £1.50, it may just be worth trying out.

Having a dinner party tomorrow with expired taco shells, enchilada sauce, and salsa. Will let you know if anyone dies.

Good for a long while,
Brian

County Fermanagh

Feeling the need to get somewhere unfamiliar Saturday morning I managed to line up a ride on Gumtree (UK's version of Craigslist.com)from Belfast to County Fermanagh (A region known for its lakes about 2 hours away from Bfast). I had corresponded with the driver only with a few emails so when he picked me up and I said hello, he responded with a resounding "you're a f**ken Yank! I was hoping that it was a celebratory statement. It turned out that it was more of an exclamation of coincidence as the man's wife, who was riding in the back with their two kids was American as well. Richard and Megan were a younger couple that had just moved back to Ireland after spending 4 years living in the "ghettos of Boston." They were an entertaining ride out with their stories of Richard's time in the States, which admitted he spent mostly drunk and Megan's adjustment to life in Northern Ireland. They seemed to be struggling a bit as she could not work yet due to her residency status in limbo and he indicated that he hasn't been able to work since they returned months ago, which made me feel a bit guilty with my situation of employment.

They dropped me off in the center of the town of Enniskillen. I spent part of the day walking around the Enniskillen castle, Lough Erne, and a brief tour around the Clinton Center for Peace, which is located on the site of the 1987 Remembrance Day bomb by the IRA. Love him or hate him back home, Slick Willie is thought of highly by most on the Emerald Island due to his extensive involvement in the peace process here. Evidence of his notoriety was strengthened when the family where I was Couchsurfing, told me their 2 hens and 1 rooster they had were named Hillary, Monica, and Bill. In a twist of fate, Bill and Monica were mauled by a neighborhood dog, leaving only Hillary, which I am sure some could see some symbolism in.


Through Couchsurfing, I had lined up a stay with the Whaley's. An extremely charming and fun family. Karen and David had spent much of their youth travelling and wanted to help out other travelers as well as introduce their children to the cultures of others that may be passing through. After pre-dinner pints and soccer watching with David and oldest kid Joe at the nearby pub, we had a delicious feast of middle eastern food shared with some of their friends. The morning brought a few layers of snow and we took the two youngest on a trek to the nearby castle grounds for a sledding expedition. Although only a brief visit, I hope to see them again by bringing over visiting friends to experience life with such a interesting family. The youngest Grace even colored the sign that I used to hitch-hike from Enniskillen back to Belfast.
Something about polka dot lettering on a sign made me a bit nervous, but it must've worked as I was picked up on the edge of town within minutes by a older couple, Mary and Brendan, who graciously produced me back home. It was about as much fun in 24 hours that one could have.

Not sure what this week will bring, but you will hear about it.
BQ

Belfast 2

Alright back to life here. I have been fortunate in my setup. Like I said, I live above one of the restaurants and occasionally my commute to work is 14 stairs. The flat is situated near a major university and in a neighborhood with most of Belfast's eateries and pubs. Most importantly is my proximity to a cheap but amazing Chinese Buffet. 154 paces. Pretty much like putting a glue-sniffer next to an Elmer's factory. After slowly weaning myself off before the trip and being without for most of it, I am back on buffet gorging wagon. Oh sweet Chinese.

Some thoughts on my adjustment here. Let's talk about language. Yes, we speak the same, which is sometimes unfortunate because it leaves me no excuse for miscomphrehension due to the distortion of some heavy accents. Sometimes the only cues I have for what my reaction should be to what was being said is the number of F-Bombs dropped in the sentence. Only 5, I usually nod approvingly. Upwards of 15, I usually feel that it was something that I should be angry/shocked/disbelieving, so I just shake my head with a frown and hope they don't realize that didn't pick up on what was actually said. What is nice here is being called "love" by someone you just met. In regular everyday conversations, having an old lady call "love" usually gives me the false impression that I have already succesfully integrated into life in the North.

Ok back to the flat for a moment. When I moved in the place contained a few food stores. Some horribly expired, but edible all the same. One of which is a Sam's Club type case of cheddar crackers. I have been doing my best to take advantage of the bounty, so if anyone has any good recipes that incorporate Ritz-esque crackers, please shoot them my way. This is your cue Matt Kopp.

Well crap, I need to wake up earlier as I just cant manage to get off more than a couple paragraphs before work. More when I can.


O'Brien


Oh and anyone fancying a chat up, my cell number here is (from the US): 00447546103258 (Dont forget about the time difference:) Mailing address available upon request (there are a few Blogstalkers I am afraid of).

Hiding Out in Belfast

It used to be said in traveling that you should avoid the three B's--Beirut, Baghdad, and Belfast (Branson, MO should've probably been in there too). Well, only Baghdad is still left unexplored but dont think I will be getting to that anytime soon. As for Belfast, from what I have heard, even during the worst of what people here refer to at "The Troubles," or the 30 years of sectarian violence before the 1998 peace agreement and cease-fire between the IRA and the Protestant/Loyalist factions, the place was never anymore dangerous for foreigners than any other U.S. city. But lore and media hype will prevail and when I arrived to Belfast last week to meet the guy I will be working for, I can't say I wasn't a wondering what the hell, when he and his right hand man Malachy, showed me the flat I will be staying in and this AK-47 was sitting on the floor. A curiousity got over me pretty quickly you could say and I picked it up to examine, noticing its weight and metalic feel while doing so. Not until I pulled the slide on it did I notice that it was an airsoft BB gun--Ha!

Have been in Belfast for under a week and already really enjoying the place. As I this stay will be alot longer than my usual 3 day jaunt somewhere, I will try and give you a more descriptive picture of where I am at and what I am doing. Came up here to work for my friend's dad, who owns a couple restaurants. He has put me to work with his man Malachy and so far we have been mostly working on various projects needed between the two places. One restaurant is a popular cafe/diner type located in the heart of the city center. A 15 minute walk from there, located in what is called South Belfast, is the other restuarant is an up-scale eatery with a piano player crooning most nights. Above this lies the flat I now reside in. (got to finish this blog later today as I have to report to the old 925. Later BQ)