What A Night!

We woke up this morning and a few of the students and I decided to visit the church on top of Mont St Michel. The price for admission was rather steep... especially because I bought my ticket before learning that it was supposed to be 3.50 euro cheaper for youths. There's a useful tip for you: If you are between the ages of 18 and 25, make sure you have identification with your age on it and remember to tell the person at the ticket counter. As I was unaware of the youth discount, I ended up paying the whole 8.50 euro for my ticket. Too bad, I had my ID too. Live and learn, right?

Price aside, the view from the top was spectacular. I recommend stopping by if you're ever in the area. It's no Ambialet, but it's still pretty awesome and you'll get some exercise.

After leaving Mont St Michel, we (Mom, Dad, Lori, and myself... the other 2 vehicles abandoned us) visited Omaha Beach in Normandy. It was a surreal experience. For such a scenic location, Omaha Beach sure has a dark past. Then again, how many places on this planet don't have a dark past? Not many, I suspect.



After a few hours of driving and watching a beautiful sunset from the road, we reached Nantes. In true Lynch form, we got ridiculously lost in Nantes. Bad directions and terrible traffic combined for a rough trip to the hotel. At one point, after trying to help, I decided to just check out. The decision was for the best.

Ah, Hotel Trianon. Sounds pretty nice, huh? Don't let a fancy name fool you. The place is a flea pit. My room was disgusting and my towels smelled like aftershave. Still, the sheets were clean and I had the room to myself. After a few weeks of sharing a room with my parents in Paris, Dublin, and Mont St Michel, it was nice to have my own room... even if it was in a flea pit hotel.

After the terrible traffic and getting lost in Nantes, I was ready for a good hard drink. As fate would have it, there was a beautiful neon sign that read "BAR" directly beside the flea pit. To make a long, uncomfortable story short: Bar Le Moorea is NOT A BAR!!! It is a brothel and I never did get my drink. How could we have possibly known this place wasn't a bar?

A few quick quotes from the evening, John should appreciate these: "Oh look, they have a red light!" "cinq personnes s'il vous plaît." "Champagne 200." "Let's get the Hell out of here."

Useful tips from today:
Always have a map and proper directions. A working GPS is better.
Never get panicky when lost. Tempers will flare ad it is not worth the drama.You WILL find your way, eventually, even if you have a bad sense of direction.
Bar Le Moorea is NOT A BAR!!! If you are looking for a drink in Nantes, find another place!

Pints, Proposals, and All Sorts of People

We left our hotel in Paris early this morning. Luke, Dad's housemate in Paris, drove us to the airport with his friend (I'm not sure of his name). With a bit of force, all 3 suitcases fit in the back and Mom, Dad, and I crammed into the backseat. We found our way to the airport easily enough and made our way to the check-in counter.
Moving on to the security check point, I set off the damn metal detector again. What am I wearing that consistently sets off the machine? Agh! After a thorough frisking by one of the personnel, I headed over to my gate.

The flight, itself, was rather uneventful. Oddly, Aerlingus charges a fee for the in-flight snack. After spending so much on a flight, one would think that a small drink and bag of crackers or something would be included. Apparently not if you fly through Aerlingus. Adding to the craziness, the flight attendants move on to peddling Air Mall items. Quite odd, indeed.

Flying over Dublin, it was plain to see that Ireland is really a beautiful country. Along the way, Dad pointed out every golf course he could see. I decided to insist that there are no golf courses in Ireland... just fields with spots of sand scattered around them. Lol, in reality, there are a lot of courses.

We landed and made our way to retrieve our bags. Along the way, we were passed through the immigration area to have our passports stamped. The wait in line was pretty long, but once I got to the window, the interview was pretty short and I now have my second stamp this trip! Yay!

Since Mom & Dad were farther back in line, I made my way to the baggage claim and got everyones' things piled on a cart. Once they made their way to the area, we passed through customs rather easily and headed for the rental car agency.

The small car Dad had been hoping for turned out to be a rather massive boat on wheels. Couple the enormous vehicle size with fact that the Irish drive on the "wrong side" of the road, the journey by car was relatively daunting. The GPS from National was utterly useless, but we still managed to find the hotel.

The parking garage is under the hotel. Dad's maneuvering of the boat on wheels was hindered by rather small passageways in the garage. I got out and attempted to guide him through one of the turns. Eventually, he made it to the parking space and we checked in to our hotel.

The room is nice, has a few odd features. In order to keep the electricity on in the room, you have to leave your keycard in a thing on the wall. Somewhat irritating, but a decent idea for saving on energy costs.

Mom and I went to the little grocery store next door to pick up lunch while Dad took a nap. The lunch counter has a nice value meal arrangement that includes your choice of sandwiches and wraps, a bag of chips, and a 500ml bottle of Coke... all for just 4.99 euro. After the craziness of food and drink costs in Paris, 4.99 euro for all that was fantastic.

Returning to the room, we decided to walk around the block and see what was around. The Jameson Distillery is very close to our hotel. We are going back when the Gormans get here. I saw a sign for "hot whiskey" in the distillery. Very interested in checking it out. The description sounds pretty cool.

Walking along, we found a cute little pub called The Richmond. I partook in (2) 1/2 pints of Bulmers Cider. It has a mild apple flavor and is a bit too easy to drink. Haha, this should be fun! Dad got a couple pints of Fosters. The bartender told us to come back in the evening for some music at around 10. Cool, we'll be back!

We had dinner at a relatively expensive pizzeria near the hotel. It was tasty. The soup was good and the pizzas were unique and delicious. I followed dinner with a short nap before returning to the pubs.

Mom chose to stay in the room for the night while Dad and I went pub hopping. We returned to The Richmond where I upgraded to a full pint of cider and Dad continued with a pint of Fosters. The "music" turned out to be a guy with a laptop and guitar singing karaoke songs. The average age in the pub was about 50 (that's if you factor my 25 years in to the mix). Pretty fantastic, really, if you enjoy the humor.

Leaving the pub, 2 clearly drunk individuals followed us out. They were highly talkative. One talked to Dad while the other proposed and detailed the marriage/honeymoon plans... 7 kids? Hahaha, I would advise against that. We shook hands in agreement that we would not, in fact, be getting married. Hahaha, only in Ireland, I suspect. Eventually the pair hailed a cab and left us alone.

Rather than returning to the hotel, Dad and I made our way to the Number 6 for another pint. Number 6 reminds me of a trendy bar one might find back home. It definitely doesn't have that cool Irish pub vibe, but it was still pretty nice. They were having a party for Halloween and the crowd was much closer to my own age, which was refreshing. I made a new friend from Sweden named Ace. He's a pretty cool kid and it was nice to have a conversation with a foreigner in English. lol.

Looking forward to my upcoming Irish adventures. :)

Jenn's Irish Pint Count: 3

Monsoons, Fire Codes, and Getting Lost

We left the apartment in Barcelona early this morning as it slowly began to rain. En route to our "home away from home" in Ambialet, we met with the group at the Dali museum in Spain. With little more than a "follow the signs" to direct us, the journey to the museum proved to be rather difficult.

After a series of wrong turns down one way streets and stopping for directions, we finally found the Dali museum. Mom & Lori got out while Dad and I went off in search fo a place to park. As the weather continued to decline into monsoon-like conditions, we grew increasingly aware of the hopelessness of ever finding a spot.

Miraculously, there was one open parking space in the entire city and we found it! Granted, parking a car with a stick shift, on a slope, in monsoon-like conditions is a daunting task, but Dad did a superb job. We had finally found a parking space 9 blocks from the museum... lucky us.

Amazingly, the moment we exited the vehicle, the monsoon got even worse! Before today, I honestly did not believe that such an amount of water could possibly fall from the sky. Even with my trusty umbrella, I got completely soaked.

So much water had already fallen from the sky that a small, but angry, river had formed in the middle of the street. As I waded through the rushing liquid, my flip-flop was taken ferociously down the hill. "Oh no!" I cried, "My shoe!"

In all his heroic glory, Dad dove into the rushing stream to rescue my fallen shoe. All hope for an inch of dryness on his clothes lost in one fateful leap... but my shoe was saved.

The 2 soaked Lynches finally reached the meeting place at a small restaurant just outside the Dali museum. My meal was rather tasty and its warmth was quite welcoming after my harsh journey through the rivers and monsoon.

After lunch, still completely soaked from head to toe, I visited the much anticipated museum (I find Dali's work to be incredibly interesting). How many people can say they went to an awesome museum after wading through a river in a Spanish monsoon? Well, at least 2 by my count...

Ah, the Dali museum. Quite possibly home to one of the most interesting collections of art I have ever encountered. Sadly, I never got the opportunity to fully enjoy the experience this time around.

Apparently, there are no fire codes in this portion of Spain. If there were, the enforcers of the code would have made a hefty sum from the fines collected. There were so many people crammed into the small museum that, had a fire broken out, hundreds would have perished... not me of course, I was carrying enough water in my clothing that I could have doused the flames myself, but still WAY TOO MANY PEOPLE!

Luckily for the mass quantity of dry people in the museum, there was no fire... just a complete lack of room for one to stop and admire anything. The pushing, shoving, and an increasingly evident desire to punch someone in the face quickly grew old so I opted to leave the area.

After a very quick stop at the gift shop to pick up a book about the museum I almost saw, I waited for the rest of the group in a slightly less crowded hallway near the exit.

As we made our way out, the monsoon had finally trickled into a simple downpour. Dad retrieved the car (I'm still amazed that he found it) and we made our way back to the Priory through the storm.

I hope to return to the Dali museum one day. Preferrably on a day with better weather and fewer people. Even with the weather and over-crowded museum, I can't complain. It was an interesting experience.