Werewolves of London again...

Happy Hallow-scream!! (As the seasonal doorbell at my aunt and uncle's used to say during my childhood.)

Like many, I am both fascinated and easily squeamish about hauntings and other ghostly fare. There is a ghost bus tour here in Dublin and I'd like to go on it but haven't found anyone here willing to go with me. (Yah, I'm scared to go solo.) My hope is that my mother and father might be willing to join me when they come to Ireland in the last week of my internship. It's not typical family tourist fare but the fact that there is a bus tour that runs daily throughout the year means ghost-hunting must be a popular way to sightsee.

So instead of tracking down ghosts, I celebrated by eating too much candy. Examining all the different products and brands they carry in stores here has kept me very entertained while shopping and the candies are particularly intriguing. There are many which are not to my taste (much like the food) but I do wish we had these babies back home- Cadbury Fudge bars. Awesome.



It seems the people around here like to celebrate Halloween by setting off fireworks in the street. Seriously, what's the deal? I have heard no less than 7 go off in the last hour and last night someone set one off about 10 feet away from me when I was leaving Croke Park. I went to an international rules football match at the stadium last night- apparently it was a combination of Aussie rules football and Gaelic football. I have never been acquainted with either sport but it was really exciting to watch.

Friday I went out to a place that played a lot of American music I haven't heard in years which gave me the chance to dance like Courtney Cox in the Dancing in the Dark video...



Today I watched "Chloe", which was filmed in Toronto by Atom Egoyan. It came out around a year ago and I remember reading an article in which he said that Toronto is often cast and set as substitute for American cities in films and he saw this as an opportunity to let the city play itself. The cinematography highlighting Toronto landmarks reflects this statement and it made me miss it a lot, even during the salt-stained late winter time frame in which the movie takes place.

Sealed With A Kiss

I had reservations about kissing the Blarney Stone. No one is wild about planting their lips in a spot that countless other mouths have puckered up on. Arriving at the stone itself, I was so disoriented from climbing this steeply coiled staircase that I did not stop to think about matters like hygiene...



And when the gentleman sitting beside the stone said to "Have a seat beside me love", I quickly handed my hat and bag to a friend and followed his instructions. I had heard the stone was not easily accessible but after climbing so many winding stairs, I did not expect to have to lay back and dangle down to make contact. They have a ready system in place. One is lowered backwards over the edge of the tower and held around the waist (by the man who has to have one of the most unique jobs in the world) while gripping a bar in each hand. I shuffled my body down to reach the stone, which is built into the castle wall. With blood rushing steadily to my head, it took me a moment to realize it was time to kiss. Kiss I did and before I knew it I was lifted up and back on my feet.

I got a picture of the event but only have the print copy to illustrate...



I'm not sure you can tell from this photo (of a photo) but they've got iron crossbars along the bottom of the open space. Apparently they did not always have these safety measures and protocol. Instead, people were held from their ankles while leaning backwards to kiss the stone (by what I can only assume would be a very trusted friend). The promise of eloquence would not be enough to convince me to do this without those rails and the assistant.

A final picture of Blarney Castle.

Make It Hot By Striking

Who blogs in the summertime anyway? Warm weather fun absorbed all my energies. Well, even that excuse is getting pretty stale as we creep towards the end of October. I'm in Dublin for the next several weeks and have the good fortune to be located right in the core of the city hub. The view from the window beside my bed is one of my favourite things about this spot. The mild dramas that play out beneath my windowsill are seemingly never-ending.



Even as I type, cacophony vibrates from the sidewalk below; two women hiss and row with one another over an imagined slight in the pub they just came from. Well, one seems to think the insult was imagined, the other feels it was very real. I won't take sides...

While I've succeeded in getting to know the city center, my time in the countryside has been limited. Today I was taken out to Glendalough and walked through its impressive monastic ruins. Vestiges of the monastery and cemetery which lie here are dated between the 10th and 12th centuries. I really love old cemeteries. This was definitely the most archaic I've been to.






Tomorrow, to Cork.