Hades.

Our four day weekend just began. It's a nice break to have, since our last few days have been jam-packed. One can forget that you're in a foreign country having an amazing time when the days are filled with activities--not that I haven't enjoyed the activities, but it is nice to be able to do some things on your own. Perhaps because I spent four months in Germany I expect foreign to also be associated with another language. When we're sitting around in large groups of Americans eating, I feel almost as if we could be at home. I'm so used to having to struggle through another language when in another country that being understood and being able to ask for directions without nervously struggling with verb order and pronunciation is a pleasant change of pace. Much less stressful, but also less rewarding in that aspect. Hopefully, being able to experience more parts of the country during these few days off will make me feel more like I'm somewhere new.

Tuesday, we went out to Sandycove on the train to see the James Joyce Tower, famous for being the location of the first chapter in Ulysses. More than being a cool literary location, and a tower, the town and the beach itself was amazing. No sand and no warmth, but a beautiful beach nonetheless and a view to die for. What I found even more fascinating was the group of elderly Irish locals going for their daily swim in the freezing cold ocean, which apparently they do every day, winter and summer. After heckling us for letting down our country by not jumping in and us walking off, I couldn't help but be a little jealous. What a life they lead, and I imagine it keeps them young. After leaving the tower, we went on a historical walking tour around Dublin which is much more up my alley anyway. Our tour guide was pretty awesome and we talked a lot about the Irish Independence movement which I still feel uneducated about and need to learn more. I have such an appreciation for historical tours where we can talk about the history of a city in the buildings that these moments occurred--we stood next to the spot where the first casualty of the 1916 Easter Uprising was killed, which my morbid little mind thoroughly enjoyed.

The past few days have been strictly literary. Ulysses walks through the city, discussions, a Yeats exhibit at the National Library, and even a literary pub crawl. Since we are here in order to read Ulysses in an even more enlightened light, it is fun to see how much of Dublin is so proud of its literary past. It's also surprising how much these tours can enlighten parts of the book I had never thought about . . . it also makes me dedicate more of my energy to the middle section of Ulysses, which is quite difficult.

Tomorrow morning, I get out of the city for a few days . . . one day in Wicklow, and another in Galway, so I get to see the Irish countryside. As much as I am indifferent to the movie P.S. I Love You, I am still holding out for a hot Irish musician to fall in love . . .