Backpacking Highlights: Derry

Day 1
On the first day, I emerged from my apartment with the fat backpack I'd prepared the night before, spent a good 10 minutes double checking passport, money, electricity off, water off, room inspection-ready and nothing going to explode, and satisfied, starry-eyed, headed off to Aras Na Mac Leinn under 6 layers of clothing and a rush of adrenaline to meet my two fellow adventurers on the prime morning of our departure. Free Bird Wymana, finally taking off.

It takes us about 6 hours bus time to travel the length of the island, Cork to Derry. I don't really believe that this trip is happening until we get to Derry, and even then I'm still dubious. Our hostel is called Derry City Independent Hostel, by far the best hostel of our entire trip. Not only do we have a super-chill hostess, but we also have one of the 2 super-chill houses to ourselves. The two sitting rooms have paraphernalia from all over the world decorating the walls. One has comfy couches and a bookshelf. The other has Jenga, in which anonymous masters played one of the world's longest and most intense Jenga games that ever was played (and this girl did not lose).

Since we didn't get in until about 10 pm, most restaurants were closed. Starved without knowing it, we end up in Swanky Franky's, a small fish & chips + southern fried chicken joint with historic Derry photos lining the walls. Chips w/ curry and Heart Attack on a Plate + a very groovy radio station = full satisfaction.  An exclusive reading of 'Royal Assassin' in the hostel sitting room only made the evening better, in which our lovesick hero recounts his pathetic childhood attempts to woo the lovely Molly in his hometown of Buttkeep and a very extensive prologue.

Day 2
Derry is one of those cities which is often paired with Belfast on Northern Ireland tours because the impact of the Troubles is very evident: it was a critical point in the Irish civil rights movement. You have the Bogside murals, depicting stages in the Irish civil rights movement. You have the ancient city walls, within which only Protestants could live at one time. You have the Peace Bridge, joining the majority-Catholic and majority-Protestant sides of the river. And you have the Museum of Free Derry, which charts key events in the progression of the civil rights movements.

Derry (as is preferred by the south and the Northern Ireland Catholic population) or Londonderry (as is preferred by the unionist population) was the site of Bloody Sunday (1972), where 13 Irish civil rights protesters were shot and killed by British soldiers. This is regarded as a current event--and many of the people who give the tours around the Bogside (and many people in general) have direct connections to those directly affected by the events. On our way into Derry, it was interesting to see the 'London' part of some of the road signs with 'Londonderry' scribbled out. Tensions can still get quite high across Northern Ireland, particularly in marching season when majority unionist (mainly Protestants supporting British rule) parades occur in July and August.

3 Weeks, 3 Friends, 3 Elephant-Sized Backpacks, and 1 Heck of a Whirlwind European Tour: Beginnings

You mean it actually happened? Yes, my friends. It actually did. In less than one week before the departure date, with minor emergencies two days before, we 3 friends managed to pull our organization skills together and serve up the European backpacking trip we'd been slowly simmering in our brains since Week 1. The result was delicious. Kind of like...study-abroad-students-who-don't-know-anything-about-traveling-internationally-pursuing-the-unknown-in-the-passionate-wanderings-of-youth-and-having-lots-of-(mis)adventures-and-emerging-in-enough-of-one-piece-to-tell-the-tale. And thus it was: an excellent adventure, a genuine learning experience, an excuse to play blog-hooky...and the point of study abroad. Which is basically like freshman year all over again, or learning outside the classroom. In any case, the plan was this: to explore 8 countries in 20 days. Pack light, tourist hard, and not kill each other.

We headed up to Northern Ireland first, which is a separate country from Ireland and part of the UK, meaning it uses the pound instead of the euro (as a side note, calling Ireland part of the UK over here is a great way to...get punched). There, we spent a day in Derry, a day at the Giant's Causeway, and a day in Belfast. From Belfast, we flew to Edinburgh, spent a day, took a bus down to London. Spent a day. Took the ferry to St Malo, France. Spent two days. Took 3 trains, a metro, two airport shuttles, a flight, and a bus to Lugano, Switzerland (I'm telling you now, direct flights are very much worth the extra money--and not just because they're convenient). Spent 4 whole days (ah, relaxation). Day trip to Milan, Italy. Flew Milan to Barcelona, Spain. Spent two days. Last chance to desperately soak up sun. Warmth. LIGHT. Then, flew to Dublin in time for an afternoon of Viking appreciation in Clontarf and took the evening Aircoach bus back to Cork.

It was truly a whirlwind tour and certainly not enough time to get to know one city, but excellent for tastes nonetheless. Primarily, we stayed in hostels or slept on the floor at friends of friends. We lived on peanut butter and apples and some fairly dubious-looking bags of homemade granola bars, which melted together and which we dubbed with the affectionate nickname 'poop'. Yet we also had at least one very satisfying meal in each city we visited, including haggis pie in Scotland (satisfying spices, man) and classic Spanish seafood paella (plus a banana). 

I had my life bundled up all in one fat purple backpack: three outfits (one for each week), itinerary, food. Neck pouch for the stuff I cared about a little more--a little oversized, leading to very unfortunate instances in which pictures show me looking a little pregnant (NOT the case, to clarify). Sporadic showers. 

All of this was great...and I liked to imagine myself as this really bad-ass, hardcore backpacker on some Indiana Jones adventure trek. Without the snakes, spiders, crazy priests, killer boulders, or temples...of doom. All in good fun.

Overall, things went fairly smoothly. We showed up in each city and found that, each time, our place to stay did in fact exist. We made our flights and trains and buses with only one panic attack and a few Olympic-worthy sprints. We didn't kill each other. And when we returned, we savored the renewed kitchen access, shower access, computer access, and extended period in which to do laundry. Deoderant no longer served as the interim laundry detergent. 

And that my friends, is a cursory summary of the whirlwind European tour. Stay tuned for more detailed tid-bits. Because, after all, travel stories are a little more fun to write about than excruciatingly detailed accounts of how Wymana studies for finals.