Groceries, Old Roads, & Destroyed Tires...

welcome home.

I picked up a few groceries in Ebensburg after visiting my sister and her boyfriend tonight. They've been watching the turtle since I left for my trip. He's looking good and I appreciate their fantastic babysitting services.

En route back to my house, I decided to take the familiar old farm road instead of spending more time on the highway. Generally, the path shaves about a minute off the over all drive time. It has a few more curves and isn't always in the best of shape, especially during winter weather, but I like the old road just the same.

Winding through the curves and bends, I came across a rather unpleasant situation. In the 2 months since I drove the old road, an enormous pot hole developed. Unaware of its existence and busily watching for deer and other suicidal critters through the rain, I drove right over it.

I thought, "That's going to leave a mark," as my passenger side wheel slammed into the broken pavement.

Of course it did. Minutes after my run in with the damaged road, the tell tale vibrations of a flat tire began. As I was relatively close to home (about a mile and a half), I chose to keep going. The tire got flatter and flatter as I went, but my speed was reduced and I made it.

Parking in the driveway, it was time to assess the damage caused by the pot hole. Of course, the tire was completely destroyed by a combination of trauma and abuse, but other than the shredded rubber, there wasn't any damage that I could see. A quick trip to the garage should have it taken care of in no time.

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!

Just another Irish proposal...

So, today was pretty awesome. We went to Howth, a quaint, beautiful little fishing village in Ireland. While there I had the opportunity to give a few sea lions a bit of lunch for just 2 euro! They really enjoyed the little pieces of fish and were adorable!

In related news, my own lunch was also rather good. We had stopped at Quay West after leaving the train station in Howth. I ordered the day's lunch special of a bowl of soup with a sandwich. The soup of the day was tomato basil and tasted a bit like pasta sauce. It was interesting and rather tasty. The day's sandwich had chicken salad, I ordered mine on white bread. Good food, acceptable service, and a good price... can't beat that!

After a bit of exploring and picture taking, I decided to head back to Dublin. On the way to Connoly Station, I met a nice couple from New Jersey. They are just traveling around, checking things out as they go. How neat! :)

Reaching Connoly Station, I exited the platform area and found my way to a restroom... too many cokes and coffees in Howth, I suspect. ;) It cost 20 cent euro to use the toilet and my bladder was quite thankful that I had the correct change as the entrance was coin operated. There's a helpful tip: make sure you carry around a few coins of different amounts just in case.

Leaving the station to go catch the LUAS, a young man of Asian descent asked for directions. As we were looking at a map at the time, I'm pretty sure I helped him out... reassuring him with my phrase: "It's not an adventure if you know where you are going."

I hopped on the LUAS and headed back to Smithfield. By the time I reached my stop, the train had become rather crowded. Along the way, a friendly old man got to chatting with me. We talked about the weather, politics, and how I was liking Dublin so far. All in all, it was a pleasant trip.

Once the train had reached the Smithfield stop, squeezing and weaving through the passengers toward the door had proven to be a bit more difficult than anticipated. I could have made it, had it not been for that one old woman. She was not a small woman and she was using a cane. Blast! If only she'd have been a fully able bodied person, I may have just plowed through and been back at the hotel in a couple of minutes.

Of course a quick return to the hotel was not meant to be and I couldn't bring myself to push an old woman out of the way. So, rather than buying yet another LUAS ticket, I got off at the next stop and walked a few blocks back to the hotel. It wasn't that far of a walk, just mildly irritating that the walk was even necessary in the cold Dublin weather.

After dinner, Dad and I headed over to The Cobblestone for a pint or so. The Cobblestone seems to have a bit of a younger crowd and since I was getting a bit bored with the older crowd at the other pub, we went there instead. Dad made a new friend and I got my second "proposal" since arriving in Ireland... this time from someone near my own age! Hahaha, Irish men have the strangest pick-up lines.

Pint count: 12 (it was a busy night)

Ireland: Where Umbrellas Go to Die

Haha, the title says it all. Weather in Dublin is nothing to joke about, though I do have to laugh. The wind and rain attacked my umbrella with such fury that the poor thing stood no chance of survival... just as I stood no chance of remaining warm and dry.

For the record, I take no comfort in the fact that I am not alone on this tragic day for umbrellas everywhere. The mutilated remains of countless victims could be seen strewn about the ground and shoved into garbage cans.

In the battle between umbrellas and the weather, the weather most certainly won this round.

Pint Count: 9

To the Louvre! ...and more Paris adventures

We met on the square outside the Louvre for an early morning tour today. The air was crisp and the sun was shining, another beautiful day in Paris.





After seeing the incredibly long line of tourists waiting to enter the museum (think "Eurotrip"), we decided to go to La Defense and work our way back. La Defense is a major business district in Paris named after the statue "La Defense de Paris" which commemorates the Parisian resistance during the Franco-Prussian War.









The artwork and architecture around the statue were pretty cool too. After snapping a few pictures and listening to Gerry's spiel about Paris, it was time for lunch. A few of the students and I went to the mall and picked up a pretty decent lunch at Pomme de Paine. I also picked up a pair of gloves at H&M... the crisp air is pretty chilly here in Paris!




We met with the group and headed back to the Louvre. After patiently listening to Gerry's introduction, I stayed with the group for another 10 to 15 minutes before venturing off to enjoy the museum on my own.

What a collection! I barely got through a portion of one wing before it was time to leave. There were just so many things to see! Funny story: I was so busy looking at the paintings and sculptures surrounding me that I almost missed the amazing ceilings above. Another visit or 2 are definitely in store while I'm here in Paris. Stay tuned for tales of those visits.









Later in the evening, 2 of the girls and I went to a bridge with a fantastic view of the Eiffel Tower. The location of the bridge vs the tower allowed for some fabulous "prop" pictures. Here I am holding the Eiffel Tower in my hands on a beautiful night.





I ended my evening with a tasty, albeit pricey (it is Paris, afterall), meal in a little restaurant near my hotel, La Chope Da Guerre. I had a Cuba Libre with the platte du jour (a spicy pasta dish with bread, today)and finished with a hot cup of strong coffee for around 30 euro with tip.

It was a pretty fantastic day and I'm looking forward to more Paris adventures over the next few days.

Useful tip of the day: Always remember to look up, you never know what you might miss!

How is this thing still afloat?

We had lunch at a charming little tourist trap in Venice, today. Of course, in true Venetian fashion, the price was over the top. A plate of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a few mushrooms should never cost so much... but this is Venice and they will bleed you dry. On the plus side, the lunch was filling and very tasty. The staff were also very attentive and courteous.

After lunch, I explored on my own for a few hours. There is something great about exploring a new place on my own. While I do enjoy occasional sight seeing with others, the freedom of exploring on my own is fantastic as well.

As I explored, I rediscovered the cute little pen shop I'd seen on my first day in Venice. It only took an hour and 15 minutes to find it! I purchased a very nice set, complete with a bottle of ink and 5 or 6 pen tips, and a pen with a tip shaped like the Eiffel Tower. It should be quite fun to give the pens a try when I get home. I just love using dipping pens, they're just so classic.

Passing through Saint Marco's square, I encountered some of the fattest pigeons I've ever seen. Seriously, those pigeons are obese! If you factor in the incredibly high number of tourists that feed them every day, their weight is kind of sad. How can they still walk or stand? How can they possibly fly? It's crazy! They can fly and they fly right at you! Silly, silly birds.


I caught the vaporetto and journeyed over to a lovely park. On my way, I noticed an interesting figure in the water. It looks like a fallen statue, but I think it was always meant to be there. It is beautiful.

The park is in the midst of a lovely garden with lots of trees. The statues are quite worn, but they add a touch of elegance and beauty to an otherwise average park. I sat on a bench and filled out postcards as I relaxed. If you are ever in the mood to get away from the crowds of San Marco's Square, head over to the park. It provides an escape from the hoards of people without leaving you completely secluded. Quite nice.

After leaving the park, I wandered around the crowded alleys of Venice and road an incredibly cramped Vaporetta to the vending area at Rialto. my aversion toward large groups of people grew exponentially. It will be a pleasant change of pace to return to Ambialet, where the canines seem to out number the humans. Venice is lovely and I hope to return one day, but Ambialet can not be beat in its rustic charm and peaceful atmosphere.

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.