See I've travelled around, I've been all over the world

I've never seen nothing like a Galway girl!

Unfortunately, my trip to Galway Ireland did not include Gerard Butler singing this tune to me, nor was it followed by his exit off stage to passionately kiss me either.. dang hollywood films throwing off my traveling expectations.


It was quite funny actually that my hopes of at least hearing that song once were never met.. I mean common, I was in Galway for an entire weekend!! I thought perhaps if I shared with the lead singer of this cover band, at this pub called Kings Head, that it was my birthday, he'd at least sing the song. Pulling the birthday card always seems to get you free things and what you want out of a night, except this night. He went back on stage and announced to the entire place that not only was it my birthday, but that "Jaime's celebrating her sweet 16 and never been kissed!!" The crowd cheered, I hid behind my friends and sunk deep into the booth we were sitting in hoping no one was going to throw me out of the pub for using a fake ID to enter.. given my pronounced age.

2 flights, 6 bus rides, 2 ferries, bicycles, and a few taxi rides concluded the amount of public transportation we depended on for my most recent Ireland adventure. It seemed the entire weekend we were constantly moving. From Shannon to the Bunratty castle, back to Shannon then to Galway. To the cliffs of Moher back to Galway, then to the Aran Islands.. back to Galway.. and then back to Shannon. Nevertheless, as they say, it was well worth every hour of sleep we missed because of traveling here and there or just simply because we were out late sharing Irish Guiness and eating fourth meals.

Our hostel was clean and only played Bob Marley. Galway is a great town. It offers the original store which still produces the Claddagh ring, street performers of course.. some of which stay up all hours of the night strumming to Josh Groban. Cobble stone streets, vintage Guinness posters and signs galore, bomb crepes, loads of shops and pubs with room clearance of 8 ft high.

One of these pubs offered us quite the night. We decided to walk in given that it was only around 8:30 and already this place was packed. Packed like sardines... literally. The four of us had to wait out front in the patio until there was enough space to breathe inside. The crowd was predominantly male, all shapes, ages, and sizes. One of these gents who approached my friends asked them if they were american. My friend Rebecca responded, "no, we're actually Canadian." "Ya so you're American." "No.. hah we're Canadian, it's different.. but what are you?" "Well, I'm Irish" "Ohhh, so you're from the UK!!" Though Rebecca was only being sarcastic.. this man was not. Instantly out of the corner of my eye I see him throw a punch through the ceiling.. putting a hole completely through the roof above him. Apparently his response in the midst of his punch was, "NO! I'M IRISH!!" moral of the story.. never associate members of Southern Ireland with the UK, they are their own kind of folk.

We went to the Cliffs of Moher. Apparently they were voted one of the 7 natural wonders of the world? I'd imagine so considering they rise above the Atlantic ocean at 394 ft. It's breathtaking site, nearly left me speechless. It almost left me dead as well, being the uh daring woman I am.. haha we decided to work our way to the edge of the cliffs over the "do not go past this sign" sign.. and I army crawled my way to the edge. I only lasted there a few moments before I realized any wind to carry through that way would have also carried me with it. no thanks.

We spent a day at Inis Mor, the largest of the Aran Islands in Galway Bay. It has an area of about 12 sq. miles, so we hired some bikes and rode around feeling as though we were the only people on the island. The entire population of the island is roughly 800 people, so our feeling of isolation was not too difficult to experience. Our first stop was one of .. well one cafe on Inis Mor. I was looking forward to some traditional Irish food and hopefully hear some Irish language. The first thing I heard upon entering this cafe was .. " yeeahh yeahhhh yeahh it's party in the USA!!" I was thinking... you have got to be kidding. I come all this way, to a random island off the coast of Ireland and the first thing I hear is Miley Cyrus. US pop culture is taking over the world and all of its islands!!

A funny sight in Ireland was not only at the pubs, but at the late night eateries. You see, apparently young men and women go out each night to drink and be merry not only with their own peers but.. with their moms, dads, even school teachers. A priceless memory I have is watching two middle aged women chow down on their burgers and fries while their sons were sitting across from them participating in similar gluttony at the hour of 2:30am. Hahah.. oh man.

God Bless you Ireland.

Heather the Highland Cow

Of course a group of Americans would join together in Scotland to cook a Thanksgiving meal in February. Although it would not have been complete without the company of Savage Garden and other 90's classic artists in the background. Yes, just the other evening I dined with the finest of my New England friends and enjoyed a plethora of mashed potatoes.

I'm sure you are familiar with the dance scene in Titanic with Jack and his hooligan friends? Well, my past Friday night was quite similar yet with a Scottish influence. Scotland offers its citizens this beautiful event called a "Ceilidh". It's simply a Scottish social gathering with traditional folk music, dancing, men in kilts, and more dancing. Did I mention dancing was involved? I went to this shindig with little if any expectation, seeing as though I've had minimal exposure to Scottish culture. I was pleasantly surprised and amazed that everyone was capable of twirling and dancing for hours on end. If this thought hadn't crossed my mind previously, it has now.. I am in search for a Scottish man to marry, simply for the guarantee of kilts and a ceilidh at my wedding.

On the topic of kilts, I was recently exposed to a mass amount of men in kilts. One man even bent over for me and pulled up his kilt (with a garder belt on his thigh)and demanded that I slap his left butt cheek. You see, this moment wouldn't have happened unless my friend Amy hadn't been stopped in the middle of the road by a Frenchman. As this man was walking towards her, he was incapable of walking around her and had her cornered in the middle of the road for maybe a few seconds. Somehow while I was left alone for this moment in time, a drunk Scottish man ran up to me and lifted his kilt in the moment. Amy looked up to her dismay to see my hand raised about to slap his cheek. Neither of us expected that minute would have brought such male encounters.

Earlier that day we joined our friend Mike to the Scotland vs. France 6 nations rugby match in Edinburgh. Amy and I spent a majority of our morning trying on over sized rugby shirts at tourist shops along the Royal Mile, and ended up investing in a Scottish football scarf to represent Scotland. As we walked to the stadium the sea of people were dressed in their finest kilts and the echoes of bagpipes could be heard for miles. It was a day that I realized, wow I am in Scotland. The stadium seats 70,000 and it was nearly packed. Our seats happened to be on the same row as the royal family.. ya know, like Queen Elizabeth? Well, apparently her sister and some other family members were there enjoying the match and we happened to be quite near to their seats. I felt cool for a few moments when I realized this. Scotland lost, but the experience of watching such a brutal game and the sight of such loyal fans to their countries was unforgettable. Later that night around 11:00 was the Superbowl, and I somehow gained the stamina to watch another sporting event that day. The pub that was licensed to stay open late enough to play the game offered its guests hot dogs and burgers. oh America, land of meat and sporting events which draw more attention than our presidential inauguration.

I anticipate every winter season with the promise of at least a few good rides in Tahoe before I head to San Diego. However this year, having left at the beginning of January, I was in fear of living through an entire winter season without a snowboard to my feet. But, sometimes things work out when we least expect them too and my friend Fraz offered to take Amy and I up to Glenshee Scotland for the day to go riding. I of course agreed to this day venture, and was overjoyed to experience the ski culture in Scotland. It was interesting, to say the least. The "mountain" had no trees in sight, and the highest elevation point was just over 3,000 feet. I felt like I was trapped in a ski resort from the early 60s.. one where the only lifts were t-bars. I made the most of it, and I at least got my snowboard fix for this season.

I've yet to run with a herd of sheep... but I have seen Heather, the highland cow.