Ireland

With Sarah Aitken just across the water, I thought I would pop over on Ryan air to see her for a week in Ireland. I spent a couple of nights in her home town of Dublin, heading out to some of the pubs that Ireland are so renown for, and that are so poorly replicated in every major town worldwide. Enjoying the fact that I was in a place where going to the pub could be considered a cultural experience, I continued my ‘cultural’ appreciation of Dublin by visiting the Kilamaine gaol (no, not as an inmate), walking along the Lifey River, and dropping in at the Guinness Factory only to balk at the entry fee and decide I’d be better of getting a pint at the pub. Speaking of Guinness, I was totally enchanted watching the old locals downing pints of the stuff as if they were kids with cordials, I could only admire their impressive skills and equally impressive bellies, and feel like less of a man.

After the weekend Sarah and I hired a car and went on a road trip around the scenic Connemara district on the Islands west coast. We stopped at various places along the way and settled at a hostel at the base of ….mountain. The next morning we set out on our own path through the mist, mud and sheep, on a mission to reach the top. With each summit scaled (all two of them) only revealing yet another summit in the mist, we thought it better to be back in the car and on our way. Our road trip finished up in the lovely city of Galway, drinking with 15year old French boys playing terribly cheesy euro dance music way to enthusiastically in the hostel, and then drinking at various pubs with Israeli dorm mates and Sarah’s mates.

Camanachd

No, not just a few random letters thrown together, but the Gaelic name (pronounced ca-man-achd), for the Scottish sport of Shinty.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon I caught the ferry across the Clyde River to Dunoon to watch the National final and discover how exactly the game of Shinty is played. I was delighted to find that shinty is a more violent version of hockey mixed with lacrosse, that is historically derived from golf and ice hockey, and is similar to the Irish game of hurling. However, different from both hockey and lacrosse, feet can be used to stop the ball, you can carry the ball on your caman (stick), both sides of the caman are used, and just to keep the medics busy, the ball and stick are allowed above shoulder height. With very few rules, and no protective equipment, this has got to be one of the manliest sports ever invented. At the trophy ceremony after a 4-1 trouncing of Fort William, there was not a single player without a splash of blood and monster bruising visible. I was more than happy to admire their skills whilst sipping a beer from the sidelines, listening to the hilarious Scottish hecklers, and wonder why you would ever knowingly sign up to play such a sport.

Edinburgh Festival

During my stay so far I’ve headed over to Edinburgh a few times for the Fringe Festival and to catch up with Lisa & Casey who came to town for a visit. The festival packs out the city and showcases comedians, street performers, live music etc. There are so many shows on that the festival guide is about a thousand pages thick and is totally overwhelming. We managed however to catch a brilliant musical comedy show by Australian Tim Minchin, a crap free comedy show in a dodgy pub, and an awesome gig with Beck and Radiohead, where I discovered just how forwards Scottish Sheila’s can be.

As Mikey, Mike and I were casually standing admiring Tom Yorke and co on stage, a monster truck sized girl dressed in an all to revealing tight red top, crept up from behind me and as she tried to pass, gave me a good ol touch up in the crotch. Later we met up with a couple of mates, and 3 of the 6 of them had all had the same desperate girl molester them.


Photos:

Top: Jennifer looses 4 kings, again
Below: Edinburgh's version of uluru
Bottom: Upside down, upside down. Our festival watering hole.

Welcome to Scotland

For the last few weeks I’ve been living in Gourock, a small town about 45mins west of Glasgow. I’m staying with my mate Mikey who I met in Canada when on uni exchange a few years ago, & his lovely family. The towns’ tourist hotspots include the outdoor swimming pool (which is actually kind of impressive considering there are only two in the whole of Scotland), annnnnd, hmmm racking my brain, well that’s actually about it. It does however have lovely views over the Clyde River, a pound a round golf course, has good transport to the city and some decent pubs.

I have however spent more time in the nearby town of Greenock. I recently started work at a Gym as a fitness advisor there, and can advise you that there are not too many fit people in Scotland. This fact is highlighted whenever we go to the local nightclub Word Up, where the floorboards shake and backsides work well as wobble boards. I will soon however be moving out to Glasgow, as I’m not getting enough hours at the gym and feel I am over staying my welcome at Mikey’s home.

The view from my bedroom window.

A few houses along the street with the church in the background

I love rock

These Pubs Are Made For Crawling

With not much to do other than surf through 450 channels of poppycock (love that word) on sky tv and be baffled at how a bull statue is seen as their prized tourist attraction, we decided to entertain ourselves by, yeah you guessed it, getting pissed. Starting at 3pm, the plan was to hit every bar from lisa’s house to the town and consume at least one drink at each. Each pub and drink was to be photographically recorded, however after around 10 pints many photos were understandably overlooked.

Here are some of the results:















Pub 4, I decided to leave my car at this one and bus it the rest of the way

















At this point mikey was already loosing count
















Of course it wouldn’t be a pub crawl without a cheesy 80s discotheque





















Stop off at the ferris wheel






















Lisa showing us her ceroc dancing skills

















Not so sober