Molto Carino week...

So Italians defiantly run on Italian time. Which is fine, as long as you're prepared for it. Picking me up at 12:00 turned into 12:30 and in the mean time, I found tickets for the ferry for half price! Twenty euro instead of forty! Great. They even gave them the online price at the office because they didn't have time to get them online and I had called ahead. :) Yeah for saving money!

We had a great time on Inishmore, which is the largest of the Aran Islands. We went for a walk along the harbour and beach then to a shop. Aran Islands are well known for being Gaelic (here they just say Irish) speaking (although anyone related to tourists speaks English) and for their wool and knitting. The sweaters were beautiful but were a thick knit and 60 euro plus! So I settled for a nice hat for 8 euro. It's VERY warm. It's great. It's just blue and black yarn and is made of Merino wool. I love it. Not as stylish as my last cap with the bow, but much warmer.

We settled into the hostel and the manager (warden) is Italian so he hit it off with Arianna, Lia, Anna and Sam. They were very excited to find out there was a stove top espresso maker so we had an espresso before bed and then saved the last of the grounds for the next morning.

The next day, we rented bikes and toured the island. It is quite steep in places, but there are really nice bike paths. A lot of people bike because there aren't too many cars besides the tour mini buses. It was grand and we had great weather, but it turned into a sunburn for me. The Italians were used to the sun, but alas, my Washington skin was too fair and I am now a lobster.

Marco, the warden at the hostel, told us the boat left at 5 but it turned out it was actually 5 for Galway and 4 for Doolin. Most people go to Galway, but we needed to get back to the car in Doolin. Luckily, we all made it back just in time and arrived safely and happily in Doolin.

From the ferry dock, we drove to Galway (yeah for Italian GPS!) and attempted to find food at 9p. Most places closed their kitchens at 9 or 9:30 so we tried a few places before finding one that was still open. We ordered three dishes between the five of us and then when we were still hungry, we found out that our first order was one of the last of the night before their kitchen closed. So we searched Galway and found McDonald's for ice cream for two of us (Rolo shake for me! I know, I know, I know... but you have to do it sometimes otherwise you're not really European if you never go to McDonald's) and an Irish-McDonald's for two others. From there, we went to Tesco, a shop that was open 24-hour, and bought ingredient for pancakes. I was also getting sick, so I got some lozenges and lotion for my sunburn (I'm just falling apart slowly...).

In the hostel, we met a boy from Toulouse, France and invited him for pancakes. It turned out he was going on a day trip to Cliffs of Moher the next day, so he wasn't able to join us. They didn't turn out anyway. The flour here is different. I tried with the self-rising flour and they didn't work. Yesterday, I found pancake mix in the shop, so I bought some for next time. It's a small package so will be easy to carry around until I use it.

We went for a real Irish breakfast- Italian/American style: for five of us we got two plates and it was filling. Very good. Even the blood sausage and white sausage. We then drove North and after a few wrong turns (it's an Italian GPS! :) ) we arrived in Westport, my stop!

I was sad to leave them. There is something you cannot understand about Italians drives without experiencing it: at various times, they were singing opera (serious and goofy), songs from Italian cartoons including my personal theme song when I was with them "Magica Emi", and singing along to Disney movie songs, in Italian, along with their iPod (two with a headphone ear each, the others without. It was so much fun and didn't matter if we were running late or took a wrong turn or whatever. Very relaxed and fun. It was nice. Thanks Arianna, Lia, Anna and Sam! Grazie mille! I'll come stay with you in Bologna, Lia! You can teach me more Italian and I'll teach you more English! They do have a lot of energy, so when I arrived at the hostel in Westport, it was great to find out I had the WHOLE place to myself!

I left them, after ciaos and grazie milles and an hour after they left, I realized my black North Face coat was in their car still. Merde. I had used it as a headrest in the back seat and it must have slipped back by the window. I'm still trying to get ahold of them but their number doesn't go through (it may be wrong or I can't call to Italian numbers maybe) so I'm still awaiting their response. I have a CS host in Belfast who they can mail it to and then I'll just pick it up there before heading to Scotland. They leave from Dublin in four days so will return the car then and will hopefully find it if they haven't already.

I just wandered Westport my first day, taking in the sunshine and taking it easy. It's a nice town. Not too small, not too big. Two main streets and a canal-like river running through it. I found a SuperValu and got some sauce for pasta. Not real Italian pasta like we had in Kilronan (on Inishmore Island) but it will do for me. I spent a lot of time online waiting for a reply from the Italians about my coat, but nothing yet. I didn't realize the computer cost for Internet otherwise I would have used my computer with wireless for free, but instead paid the hostel owner 2,50 euro today. That's ok though- since I'm waiting here in the hopes of getting my coat and she is full in the dorm room, she's only charging me for a dorm bed but I'm in a four bed room (instead of 8). So I pay 20 euro instead of the 24 euro it would be for the four bed room.

This morning, I went to Croagh Patrick. Croagh Patrick is a hill/mountain depending on if you're from Washington (hill) or Ireland (mountain). It's about 780 metres up I was told, or 2,500 feet above the bay. This is the summit where St. Patrick fasted for 40 days and rang his bell to drive out all the snakes from Ireland (there were never snakes to begin with, but it was symbolic of pagan beliefs). It was really quite a steep climb up and took me about three hours to the summit, where there is a church and not much else. It is very rocky, so it was quite hard going, especially the last hour because the rocks are loose and it can be hard to get good footing. I probably could have done it in less, but I am quite social in these things and asked most everyone who passed me how long to the summit, just to get them talking. I met a couple from Idaho (Ponderosa State Park is what I was trying to think of, but it's farther Northwest than I thought), Vancouver (they go to Mt. Baker often! Wave hi to my family!), Chicago, Minnesota and then a guy, Sam, from Zurich, Switzerland who is traveling for a while and I may go visit in Zurich!

At the summit, it was a great feeling. I had conquered the mountain! Not in record time, but I met so many people coming down who had not made it the whole way that it felt really good just to make it. Being sick and taking a lot of water and food breaks was really important for me and I'm just glad I made it. There isn't much beyond a church at the top. Croagh Patrick is used as a pilgrimage site for many and the most serious do it barefoot. I can't imagine that. It is so rocky there and so steep, that would just be too much for me. While I was looking around, I met two Frenchmen who asked me to take their picture and they took mine, I got some photos of the landscape and then the fog rolled in.

Not being able to see much, I went back down the mountain and was hollered at by Mathieu (pronounced Matieu, not Matthew... he thinks the English TH is ugly), the youngest Frenchman, from just off the path to come take a break with them. I sat and chatted with them for a while. They were five people, two women and two men, all 40s or 50s and Mathieu, the youngest, who spoke the most English and was the most outgoing. Mathieu and I talked the whole way down and he helped me over slippery and steep spots (it was starting to rain so getting mildly dangerous) and he taught me a bit of French and we just talked about traveling and it was really great. You don't notice how hard something is on your legs when you have company.

At the base, we did photos and exchanged emails. He drew me a sketch of Croagh Patrick and I wrote him a limerick about our trip and he said I was welcome to visit him in France when I make it there.

Back at the hostel, I met some Northern Irish hill walkers. I ate my dinner with three of them, Gerry (an older gentleman who helped me planning my trip), Paddy (?) who I can't understand at all and David who was the easiest for me to understand and nearest my age. The whole time, I just tried to figure out what the hell they were saying. Their accent is so different, even they couldn't tell what each other were saying. I felt like I was just a sentence behind them in translating from the accent to mine. I think I got on better when Arianna, Lia, Anna and Sam were speaking Italian! It was funny but I was getting sicker, so after a cup of tea and three (small) glasses of wine, I am blogging and then off to bed.

Tomorrow I am going to go the Derry. I'll try hitch hiking (it's quite safe here) on the route that Gerry showed me but if it doesn't work, I'll just take the bus. Hopefully the weather won't be too cold since I don't have my warm coat but I can layer like it's nobody's business. :) That is, as long as I can walk. I'll have to stretch tonight and tomorrow morning to recover from my hike.

If you've gotten this far and still don't know what molto carino means, email me or leave a comment and I'll tell you. If you've figured it out, perfetto!