Fun fact: There are only six national parks in Ireland.
Another fun fact: I want to all of them before I leave.
This past weekend I started and went to Killarney National Park. I talked about my needing to start my National Park Challenge enough that five other girls agreed to go with me. It was one of those trips in which you could plan and research it inside and out, but then have no idea what to expect when you go. So basically any international trip. The girls and I got on a bus bright and early Saturday morning, only knowing we had to get off in Killarney. Where exactly? We weren’t sure. The bus ride was around two hours long, but all of us wouldn’t have cared if it were five hours long. Our eyes were glued to the window and to the green wonderland that was passing by. Rolling hills covered in different green swatches, charming farm houses with sheep frocking in its field, and heartwarming towns that smelled like candies and happiness-we could have looked out the window all day. Although, about an hour and a half into our journey all of us were shocked to our core; there before us were snowcapped mountains. IRELAND HAS MOUNTAINS! All of us stared in disbelief at the scene and then started yelping for joy when we realized that we were going to those mountains. Those mountains were Killarney National Park! (Okay so maybe we didn’t plan and research this trip inside and out).
Getting off the bus, we found our way into the park and instantly were in awe. The monstrous mountains stole our attention as they guarded over the green valleys and forests of the park. The sky and trees had a morning mist, a thin layer of fog blanketed the grass, and you could feel the earliness of the hour in the air. Everything was dense, yet gentle. An overwhelming peace crept over us and it seemed as if we all entered a dream state. Dazed, we just started walking. We followed no path nor any sense of direction. Just go to the mountains. We walked  through the rain, the muck, and the grass until we came to a fence. We honestly did not know what to do and just kind of stood there waiting for it to open or something. In silence we stood for over a minute in the hazy surroundings, trying to snap out of it and gather a plan. Then a car drove up to us. I did a double take. Sure enough, in the middle of this green valley a white van was pulling up to us. Unsure how to even start comprehending this, I simply waved my hand and got the van’s attention. The white van pulled over and two nicely dressed Irish men politely gave me directions to a path they thought we would enjoy and then causally drove away into forest. This was easily the most bizarre scenario that could have happened but we all just went with it like it was normal. We followed their directions and sure enough found a mossy path along a gurgling river. The Irish men were right, we would enjoy this path.
The rushing blue river was lovely, but our main attention was on the trees. There were massive trees with branches eagerly reaching towards to the sky and moss scampering to cover any bare bark. There was not enough room for these trees to expand so the roots and branches became entwined and tangled together, creating an allusion of one overpowering tree. It was love at first sight and I never wanted to leave. But all good things have to come to an end, so we turned the corner.
I couldn’t feel much remorse, for leaving the woodsy enclosure for each part of the hike was a new type of mesmerizing. We walked through open green fields, looking at the now clear and wide view of the mountains; we walked through stone cobbled paths by the lake, listening to the luring lullaby of the water; and we walked through fairytale-like forests, smelling the fresh earthy soil. It was hours of pure bliss. Nature has an odd way of making me feel like my truest self, of making me feel like I belong, of making me feel like I am home.
We left Killarney with heavy hearts and our heads full of plans to come back. Walking around ten miles worked up an appetite, so we walked around the little city outside the park and found a place to eat. After a nice relaxed meal, we checked our phones and left the restaurant in a chaotic sprint trying to find our bus stop. We had twenty minutes before our bus left. Panicked, with ten minutes left, we scrambled aimlessly around the city asking anyone and everyone for help. Five minutes left, we were running distressed from street to street. Two minutes past the departure time, we see our green bus driving towards the exit of the city. Screaming and waving we run to it. The bus driver spots us, pulls over, waits for us to reach him, and then lets us on with a warm welcome.
What to take away from this article; Irish people are the nicest people on Earth, Ireland has mountains, and Killarney National Park is beautiful.

Benvenuto! I have survived almost an entire month in this beautiful foreign land and I have lots to share about the weather, the people, and most importantly- to me at least, the food. Though arriving here was a story to be told in itself, I’ve already made a home away from home atop the hill locals call Balduina, otherwise known as the “stairclimber” that houses the John Felice Rome Center. However you chose to stumble upon my page, I welcome you! Please stay, take a seat, make a snack-or two and pour a cup (of coffee) because I tend to write more than I actually talk in person. Obviously, I have lots to say during this new experience in my life, so I am so very happy you came to join in a little piece of my study abroad story that I choose to share with you.

GETTING HERE: My trip to the John Felice Rome Center was anything but ordinary. Choosing to fly without a group to a hemisphere of the world that I’ve never been to actually wasn’t the hardest part of my trip. It was, in fact the weather. Thank the Heavens for unpredictable Midwestern weather that caused Chicago int’l airport to limit all flights in bound and outbound to 2 lanes due to wind-yes, wind… gotta love the MidWest. This caused a plethora of cancelations including my flight to Chicago which is where I was to connect to London then on to Italy. Four delayed hours later, a grande iced coffee from Starbucks (which I had no idea would be my last…), and a few nervous sweats later I found myself on a flight to Chicago and on a rescheduled overnight flight to London. In London I met the nicest English people who showed me the European version of “Southern Hospitality” by giving me free food and coffee after I stress ranted to random strangers after they caught me staring up from my book… not sorry about it. And though I found myself enjoying listening to the soft whispers of many accents while in London, it was a strange and new relief to had finally made it to my final destination in Rome, Italy 3 airborne  hours later.

BEING HERE: When you’re first introduced to study abroad you think of all the luxuries you’ll experience while in another country. New people, new places, so much to see and experience. They however, do not share with you how to overcome the ever confusing language-speed barrier… I’m slowly getting through it with Italian 101 knowledge (and without a curling iron, because Google Translate does not tell you the various responses a hair salon can give you after you simply ask for “un ferro arriciacappelli”) or the drastic difference in transportation (public transit is everyone’s friend, except in Italy where it takes 45 minutes for your “arriving” bus to get to the stop) BUT that’s the point, right? I didn’t travel across the world to expect things to be exactly like America. Nonetheless, things take time getting used to and I’m all for it- give it to me, Italy!

Getting the opportunity to travel around the Eastern Hemisphere alone was something that really attracted me to applying for this program. I’ve always considered myself a soloist or at least someone who is perfectly content with being independent. But I didn’t realize how much “alone” time I would have until the first week when I found out that most, if not all people came here with a group of friends. As a Psychology major I know that people need established relationships in order to thrive. And though I love being alone it was a hard transition when I didn’t know many people. Like all new things though, I knew that people would be in the same boat as me, so I wasn’t completely discouraged to find fish just like me (ha ha). To make a long story short, I found some wonderful people– very deserving the long story, but will save for later– who love donuts as much as I do, pump coffee as much as I do, and listen to music that I figured nobody else cared for (WOW, the world works in strange ways, right?)

((I THIINK It’s always important to remember that no matter what you’re feeling, someone is also experiencing the same thing. So I urge you to have the courage to find them, share some food– in my case, pizza at a touristy restaurant- and be you… as complicated as it may all sound, it gets quite easy to discuss over a meal.))

This entire month has been jam packed with new experiences, some very hard, others so exciting and new, but I wouldn’t change it. As cheesy as it all sounds, the reality is that transition is tough, but we all need to do it- and I did! I can now truthfully text my mom that, “I’m okay” (she’s been worried, as you can imagine sending her golden child across the pond). I’ve now made a new home on a hill and the start has been 1) very cold outside, 2) full of endless bottles of wine (do as the Romans do -at dinner- right?), and 3) ready for me to take full advantage of the scenery, the culture, and the food, oh my, the food.

As my study abroad life continues, I will update this blog for all who can tolerate my run-on sentences. I hope each time you leave my page with some words of wisdom- or a laugh or two (laughing is good). We all need something to look forward to- so I’m looking forward to seeing you soon!

Here are a “few” pictures from Orientation weekend here at the JFRC to the coast of Italy. Enjoy and Arrivederci!

Hola amigos y familia!

To make good on my promise for frequent life updates, I am currently coming to you live from a bus traveling back to Madrid after a long weekend away. These past few weeks have been insanely busy with both school and traveling in full gear, and so I have only now found the time to write this update as I sit here grumbling over the eight freaking hours I have left on this bus. *Sigh,* life is hard. Anyway, before the semester starts to speed on by, I want to recap the first couple free weekends that I have had in Spain. So without further ado, here is my review on the Zaragoza Province, Toledo, and Barcelona.

On the Saturday of our first free weekend, a group of us traveled to the Zaragoza region of Spain on a pre-organized trip to see the Monasterio de Piedra. The Monastery was a long two and a half hour bus ride from Madrid, and brought us into a rural area of the country with beautiful scenery and backdrops. It was a cold and rainy day, even snowing at one point, however we still loved walking around the old Monastery and learning the history of the region. The highlight of the trip, though, was actually the surrounding gardens of the Monastery, which featured a huge number of beautiful waterfalls. We spent the day hiking around the picturesque garden area and admiring all of the immense waterfalls, crystal-clear lakes, and vast caves. It was a wonderfully organized trip, that left us feeling as though we had stumbled upon a hidden jewel in the heart of Spain.

The next day we traveled to Toledo with the same prearranged group. This too was a very fun trip that offered loads of information about Spanish history and specifically the medieval town itself in relation to this history. We visited the huge cathedral and the various religious quarters that are situated around the center of the city. Eventually, a smaller group of us wandered off to explore the city for ourselves and hiked around the winding, cobblestone streets. The day trip was incredibly relaxed, and we took our time eating lunch and sampling the locally-produced sweet, marzipan. Toledo was extremely interesting to visit due to its turbulent history involving the coexistence of Christians, Jews, and Muslims all within the city’s boundaries. Evidence of such differing religious preferences is still very evident within Toledo, thus producing a very unique culture set within the context of a visibly ancient city. Now, because I have been cursed to live a life characterized by an endless string of embarrassing moments, it was only a matter of time before this was transferred over to my life abroad. The most notable embarrassing moment from this particular trip, (note that I say the MOST notable, signifying that I could actually write an entire blog entry on embarrassing moments from these first few weeks alone), occurred when we were visiting a synagogue that had been converted into a museum. After walking in the entrance, I spotted a trash can in the corner of the room which I proceeded to dump a pocket full of tissues in. This was immediately followed by an angry security guard yelling that it was not in fact a trash can as I had originally thought, but an umbrella holder. Feeling super flustered and embarrassed, I did the only thing that seemed logical in the moment, and ran away to hide in the middle of my tour group. I spent the rest of the museum tour simultaneously admiring the old synagogue and hiding from every security guard that passed, as I was SURE that they were all after me for my tissue debacle. My American education failed me, as it did not prepare me for culturally-superior Europe where umbrella holders are apparently a thing. However don’t worry about my self-esteem, as I will continue to blame my great country for all of the failures that I have already experienced and will surely continue to experience overseas.

While the two previously described trips consisted of short, day excursions, our trip to Barcelona required a full Thursday-Monday block of time. After traveling seven hours by bus to reach the city, my roommates and I spent the weekend exploring the different neighborhoods and attractions by foot. We visited the city’s infamous tourist sites, such as the port area, the busy La Rambla street, the open air La Boquería market, and the Gaudí house, Casa Batlló. We later realized that we had walked over seven miles this first morning in Barcelona, definitely justifying the 15 Euro haul of candy I had bought earlier in the day.  After a much needed siesta and late lunch, we hung around the hostel that we were staying in for the weekend and received our first taste of hostel-living. Much to our surprise, the hostel was not a gross, cesspool of random people, which definitely defied my initial expectations. In reality, the hostel was a fun living space which both motivated us to explore the city by offering special activities and facilitated interaction between the guests. We met travelers from around the globe, including from Scotland, Germany, Australia, Panama, and Egypt to name a few, and spent the rest of our weekend with these once random strangers. One of the girls we met in our hostel clicked so well with our group that not only did we spent the rest of the weekend sightseeing with her, but she actually came to visit us in Madrid a few days later. After this trip I feel confident in saying that I now truly understand the appeal of hostels and am looking forward to booking more during my travels. The next day in Barcelona was spent visiting La Sagrada Familia and the gothic neighborhood of the city. Both areas were very interesting, though in my opinion, only necessary to visit once in a lifetime, and for a short amount of time. We eventually found ourselves in need of caffeine and warmth, and so found a local Starbucks (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) to spend some time recuperating in. I am NOT exaggerating when I say visiting a foreign Starbucks has been the largest culture shock I have yet to receive in my time abroad. Drip coffee in Spain is not popular, but never in a hundred million years did I imagine that a Starbucks would not prominently display the “normal” coffee offerings that I have grown so lovingly accustomed to in the States. Please take a second to empathize with my situation, as I was unable to order my grande, blonde roast coffee with room for cream. I understand if you immediately feel disgustingly horrified, just as I did, at the fact that a young, culturally-stupid, American could not order her usual coffee beverage. Such a shame. I will say, though, that what Starbucks lacked in coffee offerings, they made up for in pastry options. They offered a huge selection of unique selections that I had to literally walk away from in order to resist the temptation. Now before I completely digress into this Starbucks tangent, I will stop myself and return to the deep, worldly, and thought provoking experiences that I am supposed to be having and that you actually want to read about. However while I am on the topic of food, we did end the night at a great tapas restaurant, where we ordered a huge selection of small plates to fill our food-deprived bellies. On our final day in Barcelona, we visited the famous Park Güell that had been designed by Gaudí. The park was a very great end to our trip, as it offered amazing views of the city. Our overall impression of Barcelona was incredibly positive, with all three of us roommates agreeing that we needed to return later in the semester when we could fully enjoy the beaches and warm weather that is typical of the city.

To end this post, I want to prove to my parents and any other haters out there that I am actually learning a thing or two in my travels.  Here is a compilation of fun facts that I have learned about/from the places I have traveled to thus far:

• From the Monastery:
  • Drinking wine and eating pork in public areas were very important in medieval Spain, as it signaled that you were a “good” Christian. This was especially important during the Inquisitions, and is one of the reasons why butchers hung pork in the windows of their shops.
  • The alters of medieval churches are always oriented to the east. This is because Jerusalem is located to the east of these European countries, and so the alter was used to point the way toward the holy land.
• From Toledo:
  • There are only three medieval synagogues left in Spain, which two located with Toledo. Much like the alter in the Christian Cathedrals, the Holy Wall of the synagogue was ornately decorated and always oriented toward the east to signify the direction toward Jerusalem.
  • The river that surrounded most of the city acted as a natural moat that protected Toledo from foreign threat. Walls were erected around the area of the city that was left exposed.
• From Barcelona:
  • Park Güell was originally meant to serve as a backdrop and private park for the extremely wealthy families that would eventually be living nearby. However a lack of interest and money lead the park to be given to the city of Barcelona, who then opened it as a public park.
  • Gaudí is buried in the crypts of La Sagrada Familia, as it was deemed as his most cherished, life project.

Thanks to everyone who completed reading this week’s blog! I promise they will not all be this extremely long, but I am a little behind and ask you to bear with me as I attempt to catch up in my entires. Please check out my pictures which I have uploaded to Facebook as well, I promise they are probably much cooler to look at than reading this blog is. Lots of love for you all, and stay tuned for entries detailing life in Madrid, trips to Morocco, and other random abroad experiences!

I walked on, sat down, and walked off. It was so simple. I walked on, sat down, and walked off-but when I did everything was different. The air was heavy with moisture and held a earthy tin smell. Everything in sight was green and bursting with life, except for a road that had cars zooming in a manner that was wrong or backwards to me. There was no noise to be heard except for the yawning wind and the gentle murmur of people chatting. The people were all unfamiliar, with different voices, appearances, and behavior. I felt my heart putter softly but quickly. I tightened my hand around the handle of my bag, trying to contain my excitement, but a smile escaped and spilled across my face. It always amazed me that entering, what seemed like another world, could be so simple. I walked on an airplane in Cleveland, Ohio, sat down for six hours, and walked off in Shannon, Ireland. This was it. My semester abroad, my adventure, was starting.
I have been in Limerick, Ireland for nine days. In these past days I have met extraordinary people from all over the world, have seen beauty of all types, have been introduced to a new culture, and have fallen in love with Ireland. I walked out of the plane having no preconceived expectations or really any knowledge of what this journey would entail. The idea of living and studying in Ireland for fourth months was something too large to really wrap my head around and dissect, so I left it at “I’m going to Ireland.” I was clueless of what people I would be with, what conditions I would be living in, what the city would be like, what my education would be, what I would be doing, what I should expect-I just knew what time my plane was leaving.
Starting out clueless worked out for me because everything has been a wonderful surprise. I was like a child in an amusement park the first time walking through the city of Limerick. I fawned over the quaint shops, admired humble charm of the architect, and jumped at the endless rows of restaurants, cafes, and pubs. There was emerald ivy growing up old stone buildings, twinkling lights struggle across small side streets, and Irish flags waving softly in the wind-my heart was bursting with joy. I didn’t think it could get better, but then we turned the corner. There stood the King John’s Castle, standing tall and proud on the lip of the water’s edge. The grainy stone of the castle contrasted with the rushing blue river beside it and the rolling green hills behind it. I was speechless. This was going to be my home for four months-how did I get so lucky?
Although, I could be living in a dusty city with nothing to do and still be enjoying it, simply because the people I am with are amazing. The first couple of days here it was only the international students on campus. There is about forty of us and we are from all around the world. France, Germany, Netherlands, Australia, Spain, Belgium, Austria…the list continues. Everyone has such different stories, social norms, accents, and ideas, and we are all interesting in finding each others out. I have never had such constant enlightening and beautiful conversations. I have been in awe. Sitting and talking has become favorite thing to do simply because there is so much to discuss. Other than having a diverse background, everyone in the group has great personalities. We all seem, somehow, on the same page with what’s important and how to handle things. Becoming friends with everyone has been the peak of this experience thus far.
It has only been nine days, but it feels like I have been here so much longer due to the immense about of stuff I have done. I have been to a numerous amount cafes, restaurants, and pubs. I have moved into my flat and have actually gotten settled in. I have explored the city. I have gone into the castle. I have seen live music and Irish dancing. I have watched a rugby and hurling game. I have gone to classes. I have learned a decent amount of French, Gaelic, and Dutch. I have planned five trips to different countries. I have gone to the Milk Market. I have tried my first Guinness. I have danced with strangers. I have made lasting friendships. I have been happier than I could imagine. And the adventure has merely just begun.

I have stared at beauty in the face. She has been my loyal companion and guardian. I see her in every corner, through every blink, I see her—beauty even lingers within my dreams. I must confess, it feels like I am dreaming, though no dream has been as pleasant and good to me as the one I have been dreaming on for the past 2 weeks.

I feel so afloat. My abode is now Madrid, and it’s funny to say but I feel so at ease. I feel so free and so much like myself. If ever there was a time to love and discover yourself, it is through travel and exploration. Throughout my stay in Madrid I have come to acknowledge yet of another beautiful thing I have before me—myself.

I have allowed myself to be completely and utterly present in the moment while in Madrid.

When I was a child, about 4, I used to ask my mom, “what will we have for dinner tomorrow”, and she would hastily reply, “we shall see, for tomorrow has not come yet”. I would never understand why she just wouldn’t tell me, she was to make dinner, not God, how would He know what tomorrow would bring. Though now, as I see interchangeably see beauty and God within all things more than ever, I now see that all good things are worth the wait. All good things come at do time. Tomorrow has not yet come today, and so I live my days here day by day. I enjoy every second of this air. I often look at the sky and for a few second I allow myself to get lost in the sea of blue. I warmly whisper to myself of how my parents are looking at the same sky, and this brings joy and warmth to my heart.

I know that my time here is not to be wasted, and so I find no time to sit around and not enjoy the grandiose opportunity that has been given to me.

I kid. I do sit around and enjoy the mere sight of people hurrying to their various (clueless) destinations. I often enjoy sitting by myself, merely enjoying my own company. I feel as though I have taken myself for granted for too long. I have let the skin I walk around this Earth with become so ordinary to my sight. I have not noticed, or have not noticed for a long time now, that my cheeks can extend quite beyond my face (may the occasion arise). I have found that I walk with my left foot following my right—always. I have found that I enjoy taking the long route home and admiring how much green I see before me. I frankly enjoy myself—I quite pleasantly confess.

Self-discovery is such an odd thing to talk about, at least for me. I have never been one to even take a second look at myself, but today I became vulnerable to myself. I now truly look and I see my mother, I see her eyes, for they have taught me what true love is. I see my father, I see the expression he makes the instant he spots me within a crowd, he has shown me what complete joy looks like and where to look out for it. I have discovered so much of myself these past few weeks. Never before had I felt so vulnerable, and yet so relieved in my life. I wake every day thankful and willing to take and seek chances.

After all, what is going 4,000 miles away from home without a little mischief.

Madrid, you are my wonderful home now. You have been quite the host. I have seen only but a fraction of what you have to offer and still I think that when I do see you all I shall crave more and quite possible never want to leave you.

I would love nothing more than to eat hot chocolate with churros for the rest of my life, though tomorrow has not come yet, and I have no clue as to where I shall be. And that brings great peace to me. I know that for whatever tomorrow brings shall be whatever shall be.