Moco on the Mind

I made it back safely from Ireland. While I am home, I don't think I am near settled enough to try and summarize things yet, though I have had to try whenever I see someone from home. We will get there on the blog, of that you can be assured but for now, I am thinking about Hawaii. Lets do something that we haven't done in a while: a food post.

I ran out of money at the end of my trip, and didn't cook big very often. Everything was either something I have posted before, or I was cooking it to try and impress a girl, and didn't want to look like a dork by trying to take pictures of my mise en place, and the finished dish. I know, I know, I am enough of a dork anyway, how can it get any worse right? Either way, I was self conscious I suppose, so I have nothing for you except two dishes with no pictures or recipes.

Pan seared Galway Bay scallops
-Orange Beurre Blanc
-Sundried Tomato Pesto Pasta
-Salad of Irish lettuce, orange segments and white onion with and orange vinegarette

Sopa de Ajo Castellano (Spanish Garlic Soup)
-Chicken, Chorizo and Couscous

I assure you they were both delicious, and since I was aiming to impress, I would say that it worked, and say no more.

Now, back to the task at hand. I said I was thinking about Hawaii right? Not that I am going there or anything, but just remembering things that I ate. Specifically one thing : Loco Moco. Hamburger, egg and brown gravy over rice. I found that I loved the combination of egg and rice, and I have recently started varying the recipe in my own way.

I am often too lazy to make a gravy, and I often skipped the meat portion, but eggs and rice have become a regular part of my diet.

Iteration 1: Egg and couscous with butter, coriander salt and pepper

Use of leftovers at its fullest.

Second iteration: Fried egg with smoked sausage, rice, cumin, salt, pepper and chipotle sauce



Again I used leftovers. I mixed the spices in with the rice, refried the sausage to get it a little crispy then tossed it with the chipotle sauce. I fried the egg and then lacquered it with the chipotle sauce for extra punch. This was really good, with the chipotle sauce giving a great smoky flavor. The best part of these dishes, without fail is the interaction between the soft yolk and the rice. Scrambled eggs would not be the same here. The yolk mixes with the rice and creates a rich, spicy, gooey, unctuous mix. Lovely. Here is the money shot:
This is rapidly ascending the ranks of my favorite fast breakfasts. Especially if you have rice on hand that you can reheat with a little butter, it takes about ten minutes from start to finish. It's lovely.

I think the next iteration is a sausage patty, fresh rice, egg and chipotle gravy. Approaching the traditional loco moco, with my own twist. I can't wait.

Get ready for more food posts, since I have a free week. Barbecue chicken is on the mind, and I think I might mess with that tomorrow.

Music

If any of you know me well, or at the very least, have spent time around me when I am biking somewhere, studying or browsing the internet, you know the significant role that music plays in my everyday life. I am typically playing something on my computer or iPod nearly every waking moment (and some of the sleeping ones). I have an encyclopedic knowledge of lyrics for my favorite bands, and for some terrible rap songs. All of this comes as quite strange for someone who is admittedly tone deaf, can't play an instrument, and can't sing or dance to save his life. Nevertheless, music provides the soundtrack to nearly everything I do.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the evocative power of certain smells, tastes and sounds. I have found, at least personally, that I associate specific songs with a strong memory of a person, place or time, and that no matter how much I may want to forget that association, I can't. Two songs in particular come to mind each time I consider this (at least recently), and though they would be quite polarizing in terms of the type of people that would typically listen to them, I find them associated with overwhelmingly positive memories from great times in my life.

The first is 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. This song, from the very opening notes, calls to mind Saturday practices for the Willamette XC team. The song would come on after our morning workouts during my freshman year (my only year with the team), and while we iced, stretched or waited to leave for breakfast, the whole team would sing along. It was the time that I felt most a part of that team, like I belonged with those runners in that place on that day.

The second is from a much more recent time in my life. Given the type of music that I typically listen to, I find myself almost ashamed to like this song as much as I do. I find that I like it not for the instrumentation, lyrics, or anything else, but solely for the memories it produces. That song, of course, is Tik Tok by Ke$ha. The memories for that one are twofold. First, strong memories of the previous semester back at WU, playing beer pong at 16th and Mill with Remy, Addam and Rowan. The song was ubiquitous for us that semester, being played on car rides, during pong, and at the parties we hosted and attended. The second, and I would say most powerful memory, is of the road trip to Killarney that I took a month ago with Johnny, Josh and Chuck. We made this song our official traveling song, playing it over and over, including four times in a row when we were traveling through Limerick. We all sang along and danced in the car. Even Johnny's dog, Maggie seemed to enjoy it. The trip was such a perfect 3 days with 3 of my favorite people that I have met on this trip, that I am happy to associate Tik Tok with that. The only bittersweet part of this memory is that we also played Tik Tok when we were taking Chuck to the airport to go home to America, and the group was broken up.

p.s. Who am I kidding? Tik Tok is my jam!

Ok, so this is where I am going to attempt to break down all of my travels in continental Europe into one entry.

Going into this trip, I had a number of goals:
1) Eat well, and eat often
2) Spend a ton of time on my own
3) Walk everywhere that I could
4) RELAX!
5) Find the great things to do in each city that are FREE

I think I did a good job of accomplishing my goals.

For those of you who didn't know my plans, I set forth on an odyssey across the continent from April 12th to the 26th, 2 full weeks. I spent time in Prague, Graz (Austria), Dubrovnik (Croatia), and Bari (Italy). I also had brief stops in Slovenia, Montenegro and Milan. I really wanted to get off of the beaten path for this trip. I've seen many of the destination cities in western Europe, so I opted for the less traveled cities in the central or eastern part of the continent. Given the locations of these cities, transit was generally easy. I was lucky to avoid the Icelandic ice cloud problem, as the only flights were from Dublin to Prague, and Bari to Dublin (via Milan). I traveled by bus, train and ferry in addition to my flights, and had a blast doing it. Traveling by non-plane transportation gives you an incredible chance to see scenery that you never would see otherwise. It also puts you in extended contact with the people around you, your seatmates and the workers, and forces you to get out of your shell a little.

Walking a city instead of driving opens you up to a whole new situation. Instead of just seeing the city, you experience it with all of your senses at once. Its an incredible symphony of sounds, smells and colors. I think the best example of this was Bari. By the time I reached Bari, I was exhausted from 2 weeks of travel, and really just wanted to get back to Galway. All I did that day was wander the city streets, getting unbelievably lost, and watch some people play soccer in the park. What I remember most about Bari was the smell. Every street that I turned onto smelled like Italian food, and no two streets smelled the same. I spent much of the day walking up and down streets and trying to guess what was being made for Sunday dinner in each house. Dubrovnik was the same way. The time I fell in love with it was when I was completely and utterly lost, and trying to find my hostel. I walked down a street towards the ocean and smelled nothing but the sea, and grilled fish. It was incredible.

I got to spend a lot of time on my own. I wrote recipes, and read books (for the first time since last summer I think). I walked city streets, drank solo pints and sampled each city in a quiet contemplative way, with my iPod blasting. And that was all well and good. What I didn't count on was that the parts I would enjoy the most was when there were people around! In Graz I had the opportunity to spend my weekend with Andi Hollerer, who was an exchange student at Willamette last fall. Andi and I both had the same Ex Phys class, competed against each other in IM soccer, and saw each other at parties, but I never really knew him that well. Nevertheless, he invited me to spend some time with him in Graz. I spent a weekend there, and even though I never knew Andi that well before, there were no problems enjoying ourselves during the weekend. The first day I got there, I wrote a paper. Super lame, but I needed to get it finished and out of the way, and I was already exhausted from travel. The next day we got up early, and set out to explore Graz. Andi took me on a walking tour of what seemed like the entire city. We climbed the Grazer Schloßberg, walked through the main squares, and saw the university where he now studies. Graz is a beautiful town. It's well preserved, and the Old Town is a UNESCO world heritage site. I love walking through old cities like that, you feel a most wonderful connection with the history of the place. That night we went and met a group of his friends who were having a birthday party at a local bar. I met so many people, and remember so few of their names. At this party I had the opportunity to catch up with Chris, another Austrian student who had been on exchange at Willamette. I also met a girl studying the English language, who was ecstatic to meet a "native speaker", which is a distinction that I think deserves its own blog post, soon to come. We spent the next day wandering the city again. I bought my train ticket to leave, and we visited the Modern Art Museum and Armory Museum. The modern art museum had an incredible (and strange exhibit) that you got to involve yourself with. Some of the things weren't really art without human interaction, which is a crazy basis for a piece I think.

One of the things I valued most about my time in Graz was the time I was able to spend with Andi's family and friends. After being alone for 3 days in Prague, with the exception of a night spent in an Irish bar with some fellow Spurs fans (Champions league baby!), I was very grateful to spend time with people who spoke English, and that I knew. What I didn't expect was the hospitality. Andi's family provided all of our meals, let me sleep in the spare bedroom, washed my clothes... everything. It was like I was a part of the family for 3 days, which was nothing short of incredible. The same was true with Andi's friends. Traveling about town, it seemed that Andi knew everyone. What shocked me was that everyone wanted to meet me, and to find out where I was from, how I knew Andi. It certainly made the party easier, since I really didn't know anyone, and there was a significant language barrier. It was great to have the company for sure.

After that, I was on to Dubrovnik, the city I was most excited for. It lived up to all the hype. The heart of Dubrovnik is the old town, surrounded by the ancient curtain walls. Beautiful. Just incredible. Walking the tops of the city walls was a beautiful, wonderful experience. You can see the whole city, all the way out to the Lapad peninsula. You can see the whole old town. You can see the islands in the bay. You can see blue water as far as your eye can see. You can see the ancient castle near the exterior of the walls. I took several breaks on my wall tour to sit and read, finding benches to sit on, or little windows on the wall to sit in. I can't wait to go back. I spent all of my time inside those walls, except when I was at the hostel. Well, not all of my time I guess. My favorite place in Dubrovnik was a bar. Typical college male right? Buza bar is no ordinary bar. I have heard it called the "hole in the wall" by travel guides, and God's place by ordinary travelers. It really is both.



Try to find another bar with a view like that. I spent 3 afternoons and evenings out of four sitting in Buza Bar, watching the sunset, and enjoying a good book (and some good beers). The nights were a different stories.

I can say that without a doubt that when in Dubrovnik I enjoyed the most consecutive crippling hangovers I have ever experienced in my life. While I can't absolve myself of blame, I put most of it on my friends at the hostel. The hostel in Dubrovnik that I stayed at was called the Dubrovnik Backpackers Club, and I don't think I ever want to stay anywhere else in that town. The unique thing about the hostel is that it is family owned and operated. When I arrived in Dubrovnik, I chose to forgo their bus station pickup service, and attempt to find it on my own. Mistake. I got so lost, you would not believe it. Of course I am too stubborn to call for directions or a ride, so I tried again. And again. Eventually I wandered to the old town, found a wireless hotspot, and got directions that way. All of this before 9 am. When I finally made it, they greeted me with home dried fruit (including a mango coated in chili powder that was too spicy for even me) and a welcome drink, organic plum brandy mixed with honey. The hospitality did not end there. Each night as all of the residents of the hostel sat and enjoyed the warm evenings on the porch, our hostel mother and father would bring down 2 bottles of wine, and the son would sit and drink with us. Already fortified by cheap Croatian beer, these nights quickly got out of hand. Furthermore, the son runs tours out of the hostel to the neighboring Slavic countries. On my third day in Dubrovnik, I took advantage of the Montenegro tour, traveling down the coast to Kotor, a small town. We hiked up to an ancient castle, saw the smallest town in Montenegro (population 3!) and enjoyed a wonderful lunch by the water.

Beyond the hospitality of the family, the hostel was remarkable, at least during the time of my visit for the quality of the other residents. I met people from all over the world: Denmark, Australia, Ireland, Britain, Canada, France, Japan and Spain. I have never sat in a room speaking English with 8 other people, and been the only American before. It was crazy. I met some great friend on this trip, people that I regret I will likely never see again. Richie was a soldier in the British Army, and my drinking buddy. I learned to never go round for round with a soldier. He also came on the trip to Montenegro, and we got to be moderately close over the 3 days. Raymond and Maya were both from Australia, traveling around the continent, though not together. Toni and Robbie were a Canuck and another Aussie, but both were studying in Lyon. I don't even remember the name of the Danish guy, but he was hilarious. It was an incredible group to say the least, and it made my time in Dubrovnik what it was. We all exchanged contact (in this age facebook) info, and agreed to call whenever we were in the same area, to meet up and reminisce. Robbie said that she was planning a trip to Seattle, and I look forward to meeting up with her and showing her about my town. It's amazing how small the world has gotten now, that we can meet so many people from so many places in a little town like Dubrovnik, in a country like Croatia.

I think that really gets to the heart of what made my travels special, and I hope that you figured out how much I enjoyed everything that I experienced. I want to go back to all of these places, and take my family and friends with me, to show you what I found! Too many different albums of photos to post, so I am going to link you to my picasa site again, and you can see each set:

http://picasaweb.google.com/James.Cebron

Pozdrav z Prahy

Greetings from Prague

If any of you in Ireland happen to be reading this, you might know the joy in my heart right now. Since the day we arrived, when the subject of travel came up, inevitably my conversation turned towards Prague. I visited in the summer, and my time was woefully inadequate. 1 day is not enough to explore all of Prague's splendors.

I made one key mistake in my travel plans: getting too drunk the night before I left Galway. Lured to the Salt House by the promise of a fresh batch of Torpedo Extra IPA, I soon found myself in a delightful haze, watching Fantastic Mr. Fox with Johnny, waiting to be driven to the bus station. Though it may sound fun, traveling while drunk, becoming hungover, or being hungover is not as pleasurable as it sounds. Couple that with the fact that since my bus was at 345 am, I hardly slept at all for 2 days, and it was that despicable brand of not restful in the least bus/plane sleep. Given that, I wandered through the city upon my arrival (which thankfully was without conflict), snapped a couple pictures and collapsed on my hostel bed. I managed to crawl my way out for dinner at Staromacek restaurant (recommended by Devon's girlfriend, Roni) which is thankfully located around the corner from my hostel.

The meal there reminded me of my travels this summer, and one of my favorite things about the Czech republic: the food. The Czech food is not bold, flashy, modern or anything that I tend to love. What it lacks in new age technique or flavor pairing, it makes up for in character. A simple cuisine, bred on tradtion, and perfected over hundreds of years. Garlic, Paprika and the like make up the backbone of the cuisine, coupled with braised meats, dumplings and potato pancakes. The first bite of my dinner reminded me of this, and it wasn't the protein. It was the cabbage under the rabbit, both sweet and tasting of mustard. A classic pairing of honey and mustard I think, but fantastic in its own way, begging to be slathered on the accompanying bread dumplings with chunks of succulent rabbit. Washed down with a tall glass of Pilsner Urquell, it was damn near perfection for me, having not eaten in 24 hours. Today's lunch was also fantastic: beef goulash (a rich paprika and beef stock based sauce) with potato pancakes. Delicious crispy potatoes wiped every last bit of sauce from my plate.

Any way you cut it, I am happy to be back in Prague. Just wanted to get a couple thoughts down, but more to come once I get a chance to explore the whole city.

Musings on Hospitality

I wrote this for an assignment, but I think it belongs here as well. Just some thoughts on the nature of Ultimate (and competition in general) and Irish hospitality:

Every country has a reputation, a stereotype or at the very least, something that seemingly everyone who has been there tells you about before you go. For me, Ireland was no exception. You hear a lot about Ireland, and it seems that most of it relates toward belligerent drunkenness. Though I hold myself as having an open mind, I found that I took stock in the above stereotype, almost without question. It is, after all, what everyone says. What I found when I arrived in Galway was completely different.

The notion of Irish hospitality is not as well known as the alcoholic aspect, but it is immeasurably more vital to the culture. The Irish are hospitable, almost to a fault. It was evident on the very first day I arrived. When out at a pub with the other members of the group, I found that everyone near me took the time to introduce themselves, and find out where I am from. Not that they would know where Woodinville, Washington is, or even that I would ever see them again. I found myself telling complete strangers about myself, learning names and birthplaces, meeting people young and old. It goes beyond the pub. During a weekend excursion to Carraroe, an Irish speaking community outside of Galway, we found ourselves staying with a landlady, Lucy. In most housing situations, the host would be content to put food on the table, show us a bedroom and leave you be. Lucy took the time to learn each one of our names, where we were from, how old we were, what foods we liked and did not like, whether we prefer coffee or tea… the list goes on and on. She cooked us 3 course meals for dinner, brought lunch to the school where we studied Irish, even left snacks out for us when we returned late at night from traditional music sessions in the town. It seems that the Irish just have a way of treating guests, even strangers, that while it seems to be above and beyond what we would expect in America, is simply what is expected here. This hospitality, be it simply an extension of the golden rule, or otherwise, is what shapes and drives the Irish society, is what makes it so incredible.

In America, even the best traditions do not stand up to the arena of sport. Competition changes us, it brings out the worst in us. It makes us hate the opponent, to want to crush them, destroy them. The sport of choice in my life right now is Ultimate Frisbee, on the surface a game so casual that it seems impossible for there to be hatred, but underneath a burning competitive inferno, with fierce rivalries that rival any other sport. It seems that the most commonplace things you hear when discussion teams is “that team is terrible, we should crush them” or “those guys are jerks.” Not in Ireland. Two weekends ago, I had the pleasure of competing at the National Championships for Irish Ultimate. When discussing the teams in our pool with my captain, I kept jumping to the conclusion that we would be able to easily win against a team, and he kept dismissing that thought, unfailingly giving credit to our opponents. The one thing that I did hear was that “Trinity are jerks,” “that player from Trinity is a jerk.” Without question I placed them on the level of our rivals from home. Saturday, and our game with Trinity came, and I was surprised with what I found. The players from Trinity were not only not jerks, they were great guys, and much in the way of the pubs back home, interested in who I was, and where I was from. It went beyond Trinity. I found that every player that I defended, or that defended me took the time to shake my hand and learn my name.

I have learned a lot about Ireland since I have been here, and their hospitality is probably the most valuable lesson that I will take home. When you go abroad there are things you bank on being the same, and for me, one of those things was Ultimate. It was amazing to see how a cultural belief has so well inundated their culture that it shows everywhere, even on the Frisbee pitch.

For the love of Ultimate

Ultimate frisbee is a game that has been cast as a hippie, pot smoking, hemp wearing event. Now some of that may be true, but it is also an incredible game filled with incredibly driven and talented people, most of which I have no doubt could have succeeded in any other sport. It's also the game I love. Why do I love it?

Because people are willing to drive 3.5 hours on a bus (or 1.5 hours in a van) to get to a tournament.

Because we sleep on couch cushions set on the floor, in houses with no bathroom, just to be able to play.

Because its the only sport where you not only can drink heavily before, during, and in between tournaments, but where its expected.

Because there is no feeling that can top a full length bid to catch a score. Or a foot block. Or throwing a full field huck. Or bidding out for a D. Or winning a game on universe point. The list of plays goes on.

Nothing though can top the camaraderie felt between the players of this game though. I don't think there is any other sport that you can consistently go to meet a new team, and expect to come away with not just one, but many lifelong friends. Its a close knit group, and for good reason.

This weekend I went through a veritable who's who of Irish ultimate. It's an experience I won't soon forget. I want to talk about personal success in the games we played, even the success of our team, but its all dwarfed by the relationships that I built with people over the course of one semester, when we might only see each other for a couple of hours every week. And not even the members of my team, that I am so lucky as to see so often, but the members of other teams as well. Its a cool thing in Irish ultimate that introducing yourself to the person you are marking is such a custom. It adds a personal level to the game, and makes a person more than a number on an opponents squad.

I met two players from other teams that made a significant impression on me, and the two were quite different.



Cian, from Trinity college in Dublin, was a athletic leaper of a cutter, quick, and clearly a huge talent for the Irish game. It was incredible to match up against another teams best option, and try my best to negate him. I think we did a fair job of running each other around this weekend in the two games, as I would guess we marked each other for about 35 of the 40 points our teams played against each other all weekend. I can honestly say that I was the most exhausted after those two games than at any other point in the tourney, and he is to blame for that. I practically collapsed on him after those games, and even though we were opponents, he was super positive about our chances against other teams. He is the one on the left in the picture below, and yes, he did catch a score against me in this picture.

Shimbo is a player from UCD, short, stocky and irritable. A frustratingly talented defensive player, and a very capable D-line handler, he is a player that I hope to model my game around in the future. I actually met him at Siege of Limerick a few weeks ago, but I barely recalled it. He however remembered my face, and made a point of saying hello when we met in the stack. I was completely taken aback that he managed to remember some random American, when our teams didn't even play each other at Siege. The number one thing you remember about Shimbo is his intensity. You can see it in the picture below, and it translates to his game. Tenacious beyond belief, it was a huge pain being marked by Shimbo.



If there is one thing from Irish Ultimate that I to bring back to the states, its that small community feel. Irish Ultimate may not be as sizeable as the UPA or the greater ultimate community in the states, but it certainly makes up for it in skill, passion, and commitment. I know that I will never know entire ultimate community of the states, but there is no reason I can't start with the teams that we see at every tournament, the Portland Ultimate community, even the NW in general, and start to network, and hopefully make the game a little bit better. It says a lot that our team referred to Trinity College as the "Reed" of Irish Ultimate, and I found the whole of them to be very friendly and welcoming. It was a privilege to be a part of the Irish Ultimate community, even if only for a few months, and I regret the fact that some of the people I met I will probably never see again.

But at the same time, there are people that I will see again, and those are the NUI Galway Panteras. Being able to play with you guys over the past few months was incredible and certainly made me a better ultimate player. If I never see those guys again, something in my life has gone totally wrong.

To Wally: Thanks for letting me talk to the team like I was the captain, letting me coach the zone, and generally step all over your toes trying to lead the team. You are a great player, a great leader, and seem to have made this team what it is today.

To Paddy: You are one tall motherfucker, and you are hell to try to huck against. I will enjoy the day when I don't have to worry about your deep play in practice. You are also one hell of a hilarious dude.

To Luke: I told you this after the tournament, but you are one hell of a passionate, dedicated dude. There is always room in a team for a player with your drive and intensity. Get fit, get healthy, and keep up with the ultimate.

To Eoghan: You are almost exactly the player I was a year ago. Keep playing hard, and that alone will take you places. Learn to control your flick, and you'll go even further.

To Chuckles: Probably the player on the team I know best. Keep playing when you get back to Wisconsin. Play for the Pimpdags for a year. It will be worth it. I hope to see you at a tournament so I can Eagle the shit out of you. Or at least come visit Oregon.

To Liam: You are a hilarious motherfucking ginger. Run hard, use your height, and learn your flick. And keep driving the shaggin' wagon.

To Conor: You scare me more than any other player on the team. Watching you play, I can see you playing for Linfield and marking up against me. Play for them, they could use a guy like you. Hell we could use a guy like you. You should transfer.

I guess this brings the Ultimate season to a close. Thanks for the season Panteras. I hope to see you all with the Ex-Pat team at Trouble in Vegas.

I'll close with a few pictures from our game against Trinity.

Ireland Part 12- Ultimate Frisbee Intervarsities

Belfast, Derry, Politics and Saunas

The Willamette group just returned from a trip to Northern Ireland. A quick background on Irish history is really necessary to understand what NI is all about. In 1922 the Anglo-Irish treaty was signed, and the Irish free state was created. This had two main effects on the country. First, a schism was created in the IRB (Irish Republican Brotherhood) over the condition in the treaty that an oath of allegiance to the crown be signed, the Irish Civil War began, and the IRA as we know it was created. The other major effect was that 6 of the 32 counties of Ireland were retained by Britain. The conflict between the imported British protestants and the native Irish Catholics has been causing problems ever since, peaking during the Troubles of the 70's through 90's.

To say that NI is a politically charged place is an understatement. Every where you go a political statement is being made, from the signs for Londonderry with the London part crossed out (Derry is the original name, or Doire in Irish.), to the R. IRA graffiti on seemingly every building. I tried to take pictures of all the graffiti, but its impossible. We traveled through both Derry (fuck London, I am calling it that) and Belfast, and got an incredible experience of the conflict from both a Catholic and Protestant perspective.

On Saturday we traveled by bus to Belfast, and got a bus tour of the city proper. We were driven to all the 4 regions of the city, but sadly I didn't get to take any pictures from the bus since I forgot my camera. Some of the coolest parts were the Protestant part of town (The Shankhill) and from the peace wall. The peace wall was covered in professionally painted graffiti, which was then covered by people signing their names and writing messages of hope and encouragement. Devon, Jack, Ellie and myself spent so long looking and reading that the bus drove down the street to us and picked us up instead of waiting. After that tour. We had about 2 hours for lunch. I spent the majority of the time eating at Ginger Bistro, a Michelin recommended restaurant in the downtown. There are a lot of pleasures in this world, and one of them is certainly a well cooked steak, which I had the pleasure of enjoying. A beautiful butter seared rib-eye, with sauteed spinach, garlic butter, fried onions and chips (fries). If my finances were in better shape, I would have tried the fried squid with chili, but alas, they are not. The whole group enjoyed the meal, and I was glad to enjoy it with them, and was envious (slightly) of the Tagliatelle with seafood and basil cream sauce that several of them ate. After that we headed back to our hotel in Draperstown, about an hour from the city.

The hotel we were lodged in was super nice. The restaurant provided hot Irish breakfasts every morning, and lovely buffets the first two nights. The last night we ordered from the menu, and I had a lovely dish of pigeon breasts in pepper sauce with mash. We had great rooms, tvs, all the amenities. Unanimously the second nicest place we have stayed, after our landlady's house in Carraroe.

The best part of the weekend for me was experiencing our WU group grow close together again. Initially we spent a lot of time together, and I think we all got a little sick of each other. This weekend it wasn't the case. You could even tell from our bus trips that everyone was getting along well, and that we were getting back to where we once were. Another huge factor was the hotel SAUNA. Fucking posh right? Given my aching knee, I hit the sauna every night, in the company of several others. Its a great opportunity to talk, swap stories and just enjoy each other's company. It really was a great time. We also gathered in the evenings to enjoy a few drinks, play drinking games, and eventually be played to sleep by one Jack Martin. It was really a great time, and I hope we keep it up.

On Sunday we traveled to Derry for a walking tour of the city proper, bogside, and the place where the Bloody Sunday massacre occurred. Standing in that spot was an experience I will never forget. I got a ton of pictures of the city proper, graffiti, statues and murals of Derry. After the tour, we headed to lunch in town, and I bought a Celtic FC T-shirt and cleat bag. What I realized after I bought it is that supporting Celtic basically says that you are a Catholic, which isn't always that best thing to be broadcasting, especially in Derry. In the protestant part of Derry. I escaped unscathed though.

After Derry, we traveled to the Giant's causeway. One of the places best described by pictures, the causeway is a network of about 40000 interlocking basalt columns, strangely shaped like hexagons. It is a place that I have wanted to see for some time, and it was as incredible as I hoped.

Thats pretty much the interesting parts of NI. Pictures at the end, like always.

Ireland Part 11- Legen..wait for it... Derry