short and sweet. 1

Sorry sorry sorry. That is how I should start all my posts from now on. So much has been happening and I have barely had the time or energey to put it all down in my journal, let alone up here to share with everyone. As I have moved around so much since I last wrote, this isn't going to be a mammoth, novel length post, there is too much to say and you will all get bored, so I am posting a bunch of short and sweet updates about new places and people and things. This one is first.

Ireland, Jordan style.

The tour over, we rolled into Dublin on a Friday evening, said our goodbyes and got ready to cheer on Australia in their game against Germany. I waited in line for nearly an hour to get into an Aussie pub to watch our first match of the World Cup, which, if I was any sort of 'football' fan whatsoever, would have resulted in bitter disappointment and frustration. As it was, I commiserated over our terrible game with some new American friends who were with us all the way, left all the sulking Australians and cheering Germans and went out to experience Dublin nightlife.

The next day it was back down to Cork for a few days of couchsurfing with locals. The first Irishman I stayed with was quite infatuated with sport, so I went and watched while he played a game of tag rugby, then afterwards sat in the pub with his team-mates to dissect the game and talk shop. If this was Australia I probably would have fallen asleep from boredom, but the Irish country accents and quirks of conversation more than made up for the dull discussion.

Day one in Cork, exploring on my own...I visited a 60's style American diner (of the sort I was actually hoping to find in New York, but apprently they are too cool for that), I was drawn into a vintage shop as I passed it, I got my cultural fix wandering around the city trying to find an art gallery, then did actually find it (it was tiny and barely worth the walk), I satisfied my ridiculous girly side with a terrible romantic comedy at the cinema, then I met my CS host and we went to a local pub full of character (and characters) to watch an indoor street performance show, with some very clever acts, some very impressive acts, and some kind of awkward and terrible acts. We finished up the night dancing to the live music of an old Western singer who did an excellent cover of Lily Allen's 'Not Fair'. A very well rounded day.

Day two in Cork I met another couple of Irishmen...one was a redheaded bundle of insane energy and the other was quite relaxed and easygoing. Opposites really must attract. This stay was the usual Irish drink, dance and be merry. Although I did go swimming, fully clothed, in the North Atlantic Ocean. That's something you don't do everyday.

The next evening it was back on the bus and back to Dublin for my final day in the land of the leprechaun before my journey back to fair Britain. I had a day and two nights in Dublin, but as I had spent every night in Ireland so far out drinking and dancing til the wee hours of the morning, I was using this time to rest before my next adventure. For my one day in the most expensive city in Ireland I experienced free entertainment at the Street Performance World Championships, which involved me doing nothing but sitting in a park, laughing, clapping and eating. Wonderful.

mini-bussing down south.

The one true touristy splurge so far...a 3 day, mini-bussing, guided group tour. A welcome to Ireland! I arrived at 6am, trekked from the ferry dock to find the group in Dublin and met all the people who I would be exploring with for the next 3 days. Thankfully there was some gooduns. So tour was prophesied to succeed. There was a lot of 'taking the scenic route' which, being Ireland, was all about rolling green hills, blue-gray skies, the odd castle or ruin and lots and lots of black and white cows. It was beautiful...but inevitably most of my bus time was spent napping or in a dazed state of wakenness. I had to be properly prepared for full days of sightseeing followed by full nights of drinking and dancing; what else was I to do?

We followed the southern tourist trek right and true and, in the tradition of organised tours, packed as much as was humanly possible into each day. Blarney Castle, Mitchelston Caves, Beaches, Rock of Cashel, Galway, Killarney, Ennis, beehive huts, Fionn MacCool in the sea, Cliffs of Moher....followed by nights filled with a unique, newly invented (by us) Australian dance, reminiscent of Irish dancing/bootscooting. Mostly it involved us elbowing people out the way and looking very ridiculous. Nights filled with Guinness and Murphy's and group games of Kings in an old man's pub in Ennis. We know how to start a party!

The beginning of one night was spent listening to the stories, jokes and songs of a 40 year old Irish lad named Pa, with the energy of a 5 year old and a perpetual smile....his energy filled the room, it was not necessary for the audience to do anything but sit.....and laugh. And laugh we did, as he regaled us with the (fictional) story of the closing night in a country pub, narrated by the publican. In which he also played all the other characters in a most convincing way. Brilliant.


The traditional young, group bus tour of anywhere really...days spent gathering the necessary tourist photographs and nights spent drinking til two in the morning....magical. And if not magical, then a little bit of fun.

wwoof.

I have been a customer of far too much public transport these last few weeks...this might have something to do with my penchant for taking the word ‘travel’ to the extreme and deciding that to truly see the country I must trek from one end to the other in a single trip. In short, I am terrible at the logistical side of planning. But amid all this travel, I have also had some interesting experiences which made all the cramped, night time bus trips worth it.
I decided that a month in Great Britain on a budget like mine was an impossibility without getting creative about my accommodation. There was no chance of spending the month in hostels which, at 15 pounds a night minimum (that’s about $25), were not suitable for ‘bank balance lite’. So I decided to have a go at WWOOFING (worldwide opportunities on organic farms). I can’t remember where I first heard about it, but a couple of people I met in Canada had done it and said it was a pretty good way to see some different places and score some free accommodation and food. Sounds good!

My first stop was up in the highlands of Scotland, way, way up, in a tiny village which was a 1 ½ hour walk from the nearest town. Probably the most isolated I have ever been without camping. Although my accommodation in a tiny green caravan was reminiscent of many trips into the bush. I had a great week though. I have never felt so satisfied with my accomplishments! I worked for about 6 hours a day, mowing, weeding, painting, sorting...just doing everything that needed to be done really. I stayed with a lively old German woman, who had been in Scotland for some 30 years. She was a great cook. Everything home-made...honestly, the only packaged things in her house were yoghurt, milk and butter. It was incredibly refreshing after eating pub and cafe food for the last month.

It was a beautiful area too. Way up in the hills, on the coast. Although the water was so cold it actually chilled you to the bone, it was so pretty that just sitting looking out to sea was satisfaction enough. It was crystal clear. I know that is a terrible cliché, but clichés are around for a reason, and there really is no other way to describe that ocean. With the sun shining across it, the many shades of blue and green were glinting and shimmering...it was like when you see a beautiful person and you can’t help just staring at them for way longer than is acceptable. After my week with Ingrid and her veggie garden was up, I jumped on one of my second homes and began my journey south. My journey which would see me board 6 buses and a train, all in two days. I arrived all in one piece, if a little travel weary, in the little, coastal Welsh town of Aberaeron to begin my second week of farming life. This time it really was. I had placed myself on a Welsh cob (a breed of horses) farm; a whole 200 acres, with 30 horses that were bred for riding and horse shows. As far as country farms go, this was on the wealthier end of the spectrum. Concrete yards, stables, sheds, a farmhouse with a little flat for students and WWOOFERS, all kept immaculately clean.

It was easy to slip into the comfortable routine at Derwen Stud. Breakfast at 8.30, work for two hours, tea break, work for two hours, lunch break and work for half an hour and you are finished. The work was simple and easygoing too. On my first day I got to know the ride on mower, and we turned out to be great friends. Together we mowed the back lawn, around the pond, along the drive and in the guest house yard (yes, there was a guest house). We did a wonderful job of it too...only two fences got in our way and with some quick manoeuvring we were mowing once more. Also more weeding. And I began to live out my childhood dream of being on The Saddle Club, when I helped feed the horses and muck out their stables. 10 year old me would be so jealous!

The town was also gorgeous, with ice-cream coloured houses bordering the habour and a local green right off the main road. So all in all, my stay with Ifor and Myfanwy was rather successful I think and I have been promised a bed when I return, working visa in hand, in a couple of years.
WWOOFING turned out to be about more than free food and a bed (I had slight suspicions it might) and I ended up meeting some very generous people and learning about a simpler, slower pace of life...and also getting my lazy bum out of my chair in the local cafe and doing some actual work for once! It was great...definitely have a go if you want to travel lightly (or just plain don’t have any money).