Spring break, part two!

I met Alvan at 8am and as we walked into downtown Galway, he told me all about the different historical aspects of the city.  We ate at a cute little café, where I was actually able to eat a real breakfast for the first time in a month and a half!  I had an egg, toast, bacon, sausage, and a pot of tea; it was wonderful.  After we ate, we took a jaunt to the pharmacy to see if I could get my antibiotics over the counter, but the lady told me that she couldn’t give them without a doctor’s prescription; after that, Alvan led me around a little more of Galway.  We walked down to a river to show me the old Spanish wall that is randomly by the Galway Museum.  We saw three or four snowy white swans swimming happily in the river and it made my heart glad.  I love swans, with their long necks and inquisitive looks.  We also saw a bird that disappears underwater to catch his fish and it always amazes me how long he can stay submerged before coming back up for air!  (We later looked it up and decided that it was called a Shag.)

We then set off to find the travel agency so that we could get tickets for the bus to Inis’ Moor; we got there and the lady told us that we had better run if we were going to catch the bus.  Alvan and I ran full-tilt and since the lady had rung the driver, he graciously waited for us as we came in, red-cheeked and breathless.  After about forty-five minutes on the bus, we arrived at a dock and got onto a ferry.  It took a rather long hour to get to the Island, but Alvan and I talked and had a good time.  When we stepped off of the boat, the wind cut us to pieces!  Alvan needed money, so we walked to the one grocery store on Inis’ Moor and found the ATM.  Walking back to the dock we found a bus driver who was kind enough to escort us for the day.  We ended up being the only two on his tour, but it made it that much more special.  I couldn’t stop smiling and Alvan kept looking over and grinning about how happy I was.  Our tour guide had a beautiful lilt to his voice and I was content to just sit and listen to him and Alvan talk.  The amount of knowledge that was bouncing around the van was absolutely mental!

We drove up to this cliff and he dropped us off so that we could walk and look over the water.  The place where he dropped us off was very cute; it had some Aran sweater/wool/gift shops and two little restaurants, only one of which was open.  The two of us followed the stony path on our way to the top; I don’t think I can describe it well at all, so the pictures will have to do.  But here is a short journal excerpt from that day:

“Ireland; the snarled shrubbery entwined with the yellow flowers of the windbrush change this green and stony land into something magical.  As you stand on the crest of Inis’ Moor, the crashing of the waves sound below and you feel like a spec; a spec on a rock, a spec in Ireland, a spec in the universe.  It’s a feeling of insignificance and yet a feeling of complete dominance and power.  The bitter wind bites strong and hard as the snow is whipped directly into your face.  Somehow, as you look across the ocean, you don’t mind the unpleasantness of the weather; looking down to see the foam of the waves be dashed on the bottom of the cliff is a rewarding sight.

The rocks that jut out from the sides of Inis’ Moor are covered with bright green, dull green, orange and brown moss.  In some of the crevices, you can see tiny daises peeking out their heads as if to inquire whether springtime has arrived.  A lone dandelion has stubbornly stuck his proud head up to show his singular yellow color among the forty shades of green.  Despite the harsh elements, this lad continues to brave it out and show the world that he is not afraid of what may be thrown in his path.

As if to mock the lonely estate of the dandelion, the path winds down the Inis’ Moor cliffs and is suddenly surrounded by the brightness of the windbrush.  Substituting for sunshine, the thousands of little yellow flowers compose beauty in a tangled way.  The bushes are very tall and follow up their pompous air with spines that cover every part of their stem; under the guise of protection, these spines help classify the plant as a farmer’s worst nightmare.  It seems as though the windbrush gloats as it arrogantly covers both sides of the path for yards.

A step is not taken without a stone under your foot; acres and acres, as far as your eyes can possibly ever see, there is stone.  Mixed with grass, mixed with cattle, mixed with more stone…stone.  Used to build walls and create buildings, used for good luck; these stones have managed to last for centuries and positively reek of history.  If they could speak, the amount of stories would be endless.  Wars, famine, love, sickness, heartache, toil, blood; loyalty.  Imagination can hardly begin to recreate such tales, but the ruggedness of the rock taunts you as if to ask whether ye can hit the right facts or go completely awry.

And yet, it is here among the taunting rock, crashing waves, arrogant windbrush, and colorful moss that there is a special kind of peace.  You need only glance once and you are captured, enraptured, and home is redefined.  For the very first time since I left my childhood home, I have found a place that begins to run in my blood and tie me down.  Never in my life have I found a place that has been able to kidnap my heart like Ireland has; never again will I be in possession of my entire heart.”

Not that I could capture the beauty in my own words at all, but I hope that gives you a little peek into the world that I was beginning to explore for the first time.  I'll post the next installment later!

Spring break, part one

I realize there’s a lot that needs to be written about; Florence and Rome being two of the most important, but we’re going to jump ahead to Spring break and then go back to those two cities later on, okay?  This is going to be at LEAST a two parter, probably more so that you don't have to digest it all at once!
I’ll start with Germany.  For the past two weeks, I’d had a continuous fever, so I wasn’t feeling that great when we were going to the airport for Spring break.  This black girl sat next to me as we were waiting for our flight and as I took out my Bible, she saw it and asked if I was reading the Bible.  I told her I was and we get to talking; turns out that she’s a Christian who lives in London and was visiting Venice for the weekend.  Her name was Abisola and this is the two of us together

Well, Ttea and I got on our flight, bound for Frankfurt.  I felt okay until we lifted off and then my head instantly hurt more than I ever know that it could.  The pressure in my forehead/eyes/nose was so bad that I spent the entire flight praying that I would die.  I’ve never selt such pressure before; mercifully, the flight was short and only took forty minutes instead of an hour and ten.  (I didn’t find much of it very merciful at the time, I’ll admit)  When we arrived, it hurt to open my eyes, talk, hear, and move.  I left the runway holding Ttea’s arm, with my eyes closed.  We sat and waited for her friend, Jesse, to pick us up and when he finally did, I fell asleep in the car.  We went to bed the second we got back to Jesse and Jessica’s house, and although I was exhausted, I had a fever all night and shivered my way through till morning.

The next day, I woke up and my head was even worse and so was my fever.  It hurt to stand up or sit down because of the switch of levels.  I went to church service with the girls anyway and it was a lot like church service at home.  When I got back to the Aiduk’s house in Otterberg though, I felt about twenty times worse.  I spent most of the day crying, feverish, and in a lot of pain.  I managed to sleep a little, huddled by the heater.  I don’t remember ever feeling that miserable in my life!  (I’m not saying all of this so that you’ll feel sorry for me, but at the end, you’ll see how good our Father is!!!)

Jess and Jesse live off-base, but Jesse works for the airforce and so I could call home for free.  I didn’t want to worry my parents, but I was in so much pain that I just called my dad and cried.  I described how I felt and I hold him there was no way I could get back on a plane and fly to Dublin the next day.  Dad listened and said it sounded like I had a sinus infection and that flying had aggravated it.  I gave the phone to Ttea so she could write down the names of the medicines I needed; the problem was that nothing in Germany is open on Sundays, so I couldn’t get antibiotics until the next day.  Jesse was able to go to base and at least get me some decongestants so that I could hopefully get on a plane without my head exploding.By the time the drugs kicked in on Sunday night it was late, but I called my family back so I could talk to them without bawling this time.  I got to talk to almost everyone and I was on the phone for almost an hour and that was such a comfort to me!  After I hung up with them, I called Christina and left her a voicemail; it was probably a good thing that she didn’t pick up because just hearing her inbox message made me cry!

I woke up the next morning and Ttea asked how I felt and I promptly burst into tears.  It hurt so bad to move at all; we all walked to a local bakery and I guess the food was good, but it tasted like chalk to me.  I got packed up and we left for the airport; my head got better, but once Jess and Ttea dropped me off, it got worse.  I got checked in and took meds as I waited in line.  Even sitting in the plane, my head was throbbing and I just prayed that my head would be okay during the flight.  We took off and I was fine!!  I actually slept for most of the flight and woke up about fifteen minutes before we landed.  (God’s mercy is shown here yet again!!)

When we dipped down from the sunshine and into the gray mist of Ireland, I could see green fields everywhere; I cried as I finally understood the forty shades of green.  I felt at home for the first time since I had left the States.  The more I saw, the more I fell in love.  We landed in Dublin and I managed to find my way around the enormous airport.  I asked a security guard where to find the bus terminal and he spoke my language with a Dublin accent and it was such a relief to not have to muddle my way through a foreign language with a hurting head!  I went through passport control and the nice man gave me a green stamp on my passport!!  (My smile was huge at that point; I know y’all are surprised.)  I waltzed out to the bus station, but I had an hour and a half until my bus left, so I sat down to eat, journal, and enjoy a new country.

When it was time, I headed off to the bus stop and the sweet driver took care of me and I found a seat rather easily.  I was determined to stay awake until we had at least left Dublin, and I did.  We drove behind a Guinness truck at one point and it made me think of my dad and my granddad.

It was pouring rain as we drove and so I quickly fell asleep after we got out of Dublin.  I got off the bus around 9:15pm, which would have been 10:15pm in Italy; since daylight savings hadn’t hit yet, it would have only been 4:15pm for all of you back in the States.  Anyway, I was really tired after the three hour ride to Galway, but when I stepped off of the bus, I was suddenly wide awake.  I asked for directions to my hostel and walked the four blocks to it.  When I checked in and the nice man heard my name, he handed me a message with Alvan’s number on it that said, “Mikaela to call Alvan.”  So after I settled in, I gave him a ring and much to my relief, we got along on the phone.  (We hadn’t seen each other since 2007 and even then we didn’t really hang out.)  He asked if I was tired and I wasn’t at that point, so he asked if I wanted to go talk and I said yep!

In a half-hour, Alvan met me outside my hostel and gave me a hug; I knew then that we were going to get along!  He walked me down to a little French restaurant and I had a salad that was huge!!!  It even had a boiled egg on it!  Vegetables had never tasted so good as they did at that moment in time.  Anyway, we got to know each other and talked about what we were going to do the next day.  We decided that we’d meet at 8am, get breakfast, and then go on a tour of the Aran Islands.  After dinner, Alvan walked me home and I went to bed around midnight.

When I went to bed, I was the only one in my eight-bed mixed dorm.  At three am, five of my roommates waltzed in.  They were plastered and the guy walked in yelling, “NO!”, really loudly.  I just lay there, not awake enough to make my presence known.  When they finally realized I was there, they were like, “Oh, crap!  Someone’s trying to sleep!!”.  Then they tried to be quiet, but drunks trying to be quiet are just hilarious!  I lay there biting my lip so that I didn’t laugh, but then one of the girls couldn’t find the bathroom light switch and as I decided it was time to offer them some advice.
I gave up on my whole idea of sleep and told them that the light switch was behind the bunk bed; to this, I was met by loud variations of, “OH, CRAP”.  They all apologized profusely for waking me up by I just told them it was fine, because it was.  I had expected my roommates to be out late in Ireland!  As they were getting ready for bed, it turned out that the guy was sleeping on my bottom bunk and so when he stands up, his head is just level with mine as I’m lying in bed.  Being quite a jolly man for three in the morning, he asks where I’m from and what my name is and all of the necessary early morning questions that you ask a stranger.  After he introduced himself, he ended up shaking my hand, which would have been quite comical if you could have seen it because I was lying down, half asleep, and Kevin was shaking my hand across my bed.  Oh, the most interesting things happen in hostels!!  We all ended up staying awake till at least four am and chatting and cracking jokes, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Of course, I was supposed to get up at 6:45 to shower, but since I couldn’t fall asleep until 6:15, I set my alarm for 7:30 and skipped the whole cleanly aspect for the day.

Right, well it's time for class so I must end here for the moment; I apologize at the lack of pictures, but there will be a plethora later, I promise!

Gorizia

As the majority of our group went sledding in the Alps last weekend, three of us headed off to explore the little town of Gorizia.  Joy, Alla, and I had decided that the winter cold and snow was not quite our cup of tea, nor was waking up at the crack of dawn and waltzing down to the train station at 6:45am.  Instead of the aforementioned hideousness, the three of us slept in till 8:45 and ate breakfast leisurely, got ready to leave and walked the forty minutes to the train station to make the 11:27.  We ordered our tickets by ourselves (yay!) and even got on the correct train!!  The ride there was about an hour and we all chatted and got to know each other better because we dorm in separate rooms and therefore don’t get to hang out as much.  Joy and I talked about how her older sister and Andrew Wilber had each gone to Gorizia at one point and how cool it was to go where we had seen them in their pictures – we were totally psyched! 

Once we got off of the train, we just walked straight because Garrett had told us that every single group that had gone to Gorizia before had gotten lost on their way back and we were determined NOT to do so!  As we walked, we enjoyed the scenery and bazillions of teesy shops along the sides of the streets.  By this point, we’ve pretty much gotten used to everyone staring at us and there comes a point where you just stare back because nobody really bothers you here unless you lock eyes for an extended period of time or grin like an idiot.  (Don’t worry, I haven’t done those things; I’ve just seen it happen)  We stopped at a gelateria to take a picture because it was the same shop that Joy’s sister had been to

We walked by a bunch of shops and wandered in and out of them, contemplating buying things but then deciding that it would be better to purchase on the way back so that we wouldn’t have to carry them.  After Alla telling us she had to use the bathroom, we went to find a café in which to park ourselves for a little bit.  There was this adorable little place that we found and our waitress was the cutest!  She made me my first latte macchiato, per Andrew’s suggestion, and I actually enjoyed it!!  At first I wasn’t wild about it but then I got halfway through it and it was quite yummy.

 

After warming up, we asked for directions to Slovenia and our waitress explained it to us in Italian as we pretended to understand; we picked up words here and there and then she found a map for us to use and it ended up making more sense than we thought it would, so we left to explore Slovenia.  On our way, we found a fountain in a park where we stopped to eat lunch.

After several stops at street corners to find ourselves on the map, we couldn’t find the right street names and decided to just head in what we thought was the general direction of Slovenia.  Along the way, we asked a lady who didn’t speak English but pointed for us to go straight.  Then we happened upon an adorable old lady with a cute little puppy and I asked her if she spoke English.  She said no, but then Joy said, “Slovenia?”, and she responded with hand gestures and the Italian word for “straight”.  (Dritto)  She said, “Driiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitto, driiiiiiitto, driiiiiito – Italia e SLOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEnia.”  She was the best part of the trip and we all agreed that if we hadn’t had any fun but met her, our day would have been perfect anyway!!!  Following her directions, we ended up on the border of Italia and Slovenia and took some pictures.

 

After that, we decided to head back towards the train station to try and catch the early train so that we could meet our group and get picked up by the van instead of having to walk home on tired feet at night.  On our way back, we all stopped in at our little café and told our waitress that we made it to Slovenia and she smiled and was very happy as we thanked her.  Alla and I stopped by a few stores on the way back and picked up the things we had looked at earlier and then we booked it to the train station with a half hour to spare.  We made it home and thankfully the van picked us up; it was one of my favorite weekends thus far.

Verona!

On Saturday, we all hopped on a bus with Verona on our agenda; after a two hour drive, we finally arrived in the magical city, fondly referred to as "The City In Love".  (See picture below)

Our first stop was the world's largest functional Colosseum, which is indeed quite large and interesting!  They frequently have concerts there and events; Coldplay even performed there a little while ago, so Sam has told us ninety million times.  We lunched there and wandered around to take pictures in the vastness of old stone and archways.

After leaving the Colosseum, we headed to Juliet's house - it wasn't as cool as I thought it was be, which was a bummer.  I think I made it a lot more romantic in my head than it was in reality.  There was, however, one thing that I couldn't leave without doing...

Even if Juliet's was a teensy bit disappointing, there was a plus side - we found this turquoise horse and I posed with it!

Fondly petting the horse goodbye, we set off for the Bell Tower to climb the 368 steps to the top.  I told Ttea that after the practice of those steps, we'd be in shape for the Eiffel Tower ;)  This is what the tower looks like from the ground.

Splitting off from the group, Ttea and I waltzed across the bridge into a different part of Verona and paused on the bridge to snap this lovely picture!

Off in the distance, we saw what looked like a mansion and thought that we should attempt to get there.  It was rather far off, but Sam had taught us the day before that for missions work, we needed a vision and faith.  We had both, so we set off to find a street that would lead upwards towards the enormous house.  We got five sixths of the way there, or three quarters, or whatever you want to call it...and then Ttea and I were distracted by a side path.   By a stone wall.  And then I saw this plant that looked like an oversized pineapple top and it still mystifies me..(any ideas, Dad?)

After seeing such a cool stone wall with a path next to it, we followed it because it seemed country-ish and we agreed that the country was more to our liking than going to explore some house that was probably owned by a bunch of snobby people with dogs that like to eat single young Americans for lunch.  This is what the wall and path looked like:

Tempting, right??

Waltzing down the avenue of green, I couldn't resist clambering up the stone wall to check out the view from above the city.  This is me, on a wall.

And this is the view from said wall:

Farther on, we saw a sign and realized we were in a park and the best thing about this park was that we were the only tourists and every other person was a local!  It was so nice and calm and relaxing.  We climbed into some stone garrison-like things and I climbed a fence or two, just because I could; then we saw a grove of trees and it took me a second to realize that the ground was covered with....

OLIVES!!!!


We were in an olive grove!!!!  It was the coolest thing ever because all I kept thinking was, "JESUS MIGHT HAVE WALKED HERE!", which He probably didn't - but it was still crazy cool.  After running around and basking in the gloriousness of such a sunny day, Ttea and I climbed this wall which doesn't look that daunting, but it was a lot taller than we were!

Once we had accomplished that incredible feat, we ended up in a new olive grove that was probably private but it was wonderful and we just sat there, overlooking the city, and enjoying the rest of the day.

I could show you all of the pictures here, but I'll just attach a link that will take you to my photo album and you can look through the rest of them if you like :)


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