Castlebar, Ireland: green is everywhere

Castlebar is a medium sized town of about 12,000 people. More notably, it is the home town of Dwayne Corcoran. Born in 1986, his family immigrated to the United States when he was three years old. Our traveling trio had planned on spending three days in Castlebar, but after only two days in Dublin we were ready to move on, adding the extra days to Dwayne’s hometown.

The unofficial motto of this trip tended to be “relaxed travel.” We had spent a week in each city: Budapest, Prague, Munich, Paris, Brussels (not Dublin). This gave us ample time to not just see, but experience each city. To come as close to living in the town, without actually having to find jobs.

Castlebar is not the capital of a European country. And even though we were living with Dwayne’s Aunt Helen near the town center, we spent most of the time visiting his aunts and uncles who still lived in the surrounding farm country. This part felt like an entirely different trip. If the previous five weeks had been five course meal of Central and Western Europe, this last week was glass of brandy to settle our stomachs.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f9 at 1/400 of a sec


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f9 at 1/125 of a sec

Early in the week we visited Dwayne’s uncle Joe, who lived on a farm outside of Castlebar. We walked amongst the cows for a long while. Dwayne showed Ian and I an 800-year-old watch tower (now only a single wall), which resided on a small hill on his uncle’s land.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f4.5 at 1/400 of a sec
Dwayne searching the remnants of the 800-year-old watch tower for fossilized goods.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f4 at 1/1000 of a sec


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f2 at 1/3200 of a sec
Hoping electric fences to reach the hill top.

We spent the rest of our evening resting on the hill watching the burning sun set fire to a line of trees on the horizon.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f2 at 1/3200 of a sec


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f2 at 1/640 of a sec


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 400 ISO, f2 at 1/800 of a sec

The next day, Aunt Helen took us to Croagh Patrick, a holy mountain near Westport, about three minutes west of Castlebar, straddling the Atlantic Ocean. Every year a pilgrimage is made up these rocky slopes, many people with bare feet.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f8 at 1/160 of a sec
At the base of Croagh Patrick

The hike was difficult, and at times treacherous, as the rain began to fall on us in bucket loads. But the final view was worth it.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f4 at 1/1250 of a sec
View from the top of Croagh Patrick.

Every day we were meeting more of Dwayne’s past. His old families, old friends and old homes. We stopped by one home which he used to live in as a small child. Currently, a relative lives there with two young boys. Dwayne had not been back in Ireland for three years, so neither child remembered him (one was not even born then). Hopefully Dwayne was able to make an impression that may last till next time he comes back to the homeland.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f4 at 1/3200 of a sec
Dwayne with the younger of the two children living in his old house.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f4 at 1/1600 of a sec
Cows residing at Dwayne’s old house.

Faster than any other destination, Castlebar was gone. It may have had the least to offer a random passer-by, but we left with the most. Having met so many of Dwayne’s family was a fantastic treat. Getting to experience the rolling hills of the deepest green Ireland has to offer made it the most magical destination by far.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f4 at 1/100 of a sec
Our plane departing Shannon, Ireland, for home.

Now I am back in San Francisco, but tomorrow I leave for a family vacation and will be unable to update this blog for a little over a week. I’ll make sure to bring back some nice images from Lassen Volcanic National Park on my return.

Dublin: The land of real Guinness

I am now back home in San Francisco (arrived Monday), but I still want to make a few more posts describing our last week of the trip in Ireland. This Friday I will be leaving for another trip, to Lassen Volcanic National Park, in which there will be absolutely no internet (no electricity either) so the Europe trip posts will be done by then.

Dublin- So incase you did not know, Ireland is an island. Yeah, mind blowing right? While planing our trip, we came across the problem that trains do not travel on water. So how do you get form Brussels to Dublin? Well, you fly.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f22 at 1/125 of a sec
Walking up the flight of stairs to our plane

Flying, even for only an hour and a half, felt very odd after 5 weeks of trains through Europe. Security checks and that sticky airport air replaced the relaxed attitude and open-air fee of train stations.

First thing after getting into Dublin, Ian, Dwayne and I visited the Guinness Store House. This is more of a museum with a souvenir shop than anything else. No Guinness is made in the building. But there are some pretty good exhibits explaining the process. For example, the water that is used to make the beer. I can’t imagine they use this actual water, but the waterfall was cool nonetheless.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 500 ISO, f 2 at 1/250 of a sec
Waterfall at Guinness Store House

And of course you get the free Guinness at the end of the tour. Best... Guinness... ever.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f5.6 at 1/125 of a sec
Dwayne and Ian enjoying their Guinnesses (Guinnessi?)

We spent the rest of our time in Dublin walking around the city, through St. Stephen’s Green. This provide many images of Dwayne and Ian’s gay honey moon (the real reason for our trip).


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 100 ISO, f5.6 at 1/200 of a sec

And of course, more pints of Guinness were in order.


Nikon D3 with 35mm f2, 6400 ISO, f2 at 1/60 of a sec

We were scheduled to stay in Dublin for five nights, but after only two nights we decided to move on. We probably could have spent more time in the city, but we were eager to spend more time in Castlebar (Dwayne’s home town). So after our second night in our hostel, he hustled out out of there.


Nikon D3 with 35mm, 100 ISO, f2.8 at 1/30 of a sec
Rushing out of the Dublin hostel to make our train for Castlebar, Ireland (Dwayne's hometown)

Day Trip to Bruges

I am still kind of behind in the posts but in case you are confused, Ian, Dwayne and I are currently in Dwayne's hometown in Castlebar, Ireland and our trip ends in just a few days. Here is a post that backtracks to when we went on a day trip to Bruges, Belgium while still residing in Brussels.

Brussels- Day four
We took a day trip to Bruges. It is a small, historically beautiful town about an hour train ride north of Brussels, Begium. I knew nearly nothing about Bruges expect for some screen shots I had seen from reviews of a recent movie titled "In Bruges." which wasn't shown much in the States, and I never saw it.




The Beguinage, a convent in Bruges

But Bruges does live up to the hype of being a architectural historic gem. It is an extremely beautiful town. You can easily forget that it is still an actual city in which people actually live. I found myself getting lost in the Disneyland feel, wondering what was going on inside all of these extremely quaint buildings.


The Madonna and Child (1505) by Michelangelo Buonarotti in Our Lady's Church in Bruges.



Bruges is also known for its chocolate. We went to the chocolate museum, which was kind of a waste of time. I think we were expecting a Willy Wonka Factory experience, and instead, received a history lesson on the Aztecs... yawn.

The museum tour did get us into the mood for some chocolate. Dwayne and I were finished after visiting one chocolate boutique, eating about seven to eight pieces of chocolate. In fact, I was even a little stomach sick after that "little" amount. Ian put Dwayne and I to shame. Ian had the drive to try as many different shops as possible until he could eat no more.

After visiting at least four stores, and eating a significant portion of Belgian chocolate, Ian was down for the count. Enough to make me sick the entire day, but just enough to make Ian sleepy.


Ian resting on Dwayne's shoulder, exhausted form chocolate

Brussels, minus the sprouts

Brussels-
As I near the end of this trip, memories of so many similar western European cities have begun to blur together. I have gotten very tired of shooting nearly identical churches, sunsets over rivers, and fun moments with Ian and Dwayne (they all happen too often). Thankfully, Brussels has brought something slightly different.


Our hostel was the white building to the right of the statue.

Our hostel was located on the very beautiful and oddly quite rotary near the Botanical Gardens of Brussels. Although we did not have a balcony view on to the Vltava River, like we did in Prague, this was a very nice mini-park to walk past when ever arriving or departing from our temporary home.



On my very first day in the city, I walked a great deal around the eastern side of town, starting from the newly transformed Middle Eastern neighborhood, to the rich lavish houses, and finally the historical stone archways. This city is changing/growing very rapidly.



There are cranes everywhere. Skyscrapers bookend the the older generation of construction throughout the city. This is the first city we have been in where such tall buildings were not so rare.

This constant growth goes beyond buildings. New languages are permeating the menus, ads, and walls all over this city. Although the two major languages are still French and Flemish (Netherlands). The country is so split by the two languages that it is not uncommon to find multiple ads repeating themselves in each language.


The same advertisment. Once in French (left), and once in Flemish.

This split is so strong that during the week we were in Brussels, the Belgian Government hit a standstill and the Prime Minister offered his resignation based off of reconcilable difference between the two language sides of Parliament.



Later that day there was a small protest down city center streets. Not sure what is was for because I hadn't found out about the governments dissolution until afterwards.

This has made Brussels (and Belgium as a whole) much different than previously visited Western European Countries. Oh, and the fact that we had muscles and wine for breakfast one morning.


Ian (left), Dwayne and I enjoying our breakfast of shrimp, mussels and hite wine.

Paris- finding the places that matter

Paraphrased from my journal-
July 10, 7:45 P.M.
Paris- Two days ago was my first day exploring the Paris. In that time I discovered some great hidden treasures. First was a little boulangerie on the small island east of the island housing the Notre Dame on the Siene River. I bought a sandwich there which was fantastic. I instantly knew that boulangeries would be my best friend in Paris.


Luxembourg Garden

Later I found the Luxembourg Garden. This garden is by far my favorite in the city (I have visited several of them now). The Luxembourg Garden has more usable space and less people than the more popular Jardin des Tuileries. Little sail boats fill the pond and small children run around it with sticks, attempting to lead their ships on a course across the pond.

Unexpectedly, there was a series of about 25 large print photos dealing with controversial issues from the past 10-15 years, hung on the exterior of the fence surrounding the garden. Most of the photojournalism on display was fantastic and really grabbed the attention of everyone walking by.


Statue in the Paris Pantheon

Later that day I found a Canadian bookstore in which I bought the entire Lord of the Rings series (in one book). I just finished the Hobbit a few days ago. In the bookstore I met a French-American author who had written a biographical book about a female photojournalist in WW2. She and I exchanged lots of ideas concerning women in photojournalism in the past in contrast to today. Even though she had obviously researched women's role in the history of journalism, she was not aware of the current state of things.


Water bottle fight in our extremely tiny room in Paris.

Today I went to the Louve with Ian and Dwayne. Ian went very early in the morning, getting there just as the doors where opening. Dwayne and I opted for the more sleep option. After the Louve, I attempted to nap in the Jardin des Tuileries but it was too loud and the chairs not comfortable enough. I also attempted to read, but I found myself to sleepy. It is a rough life. So I grabbed a sandwich on the way home and took a long nap in my bed. I think it will be another relaxing night of reading and writing- unless Dwayne and Ian have anything to say about that.

Paris- Day 1, meeting a local

Paraphrased from my journal
July 9
Paris- On our first day in Paris (July 7), Dwayne, Ian and I arrived at our hostel located on the far north side of the city. In fact, the hostel was so far north, the street it was on did not exist on my map. Thankfully, we found the place without much trouble, and we arrived in the early evening.



On the train to Paris, I had only eaten a raisin croissant (which I pretended was lunch). So after dropping off our bags, our first order of business for Paris was food. Our hostel's receptionist, Reggie, recommended a small restaurant down the steep hill from the front door of our building.

"The french cuisine there is f**king incredible," he said.

The restaurant did not open for dinner for another hour, so Reggie suggested a stroll to the Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart Basilica). About two blocks away from the front steps of the Basilica we came across a little, old lady (she was truly very small and quite elderly). We were walking our normal pace (as fast as three young men would) thus we overtook her quite quickly. As we came to pass her, she immediately engaged us, with French flowing at us like a waterfall. She spoke so fast that even Dwayne could only understand her every dozen words or so. She was very nice and seemed well intentioned so we continued walking with her, with Dwayne nodding so often and responding in a few french words here or there. She reached for Dwayne's hand and he helped lead her down the cobblestone sidewalk.



So there we were in front of the Basilica. Dwayne is discussing something with an elder lady. Ian strolled about 6 feet back, I did as well (taking many pictures). Every so often Dwayne would come to believe he partially understood what this little woman was saying and would translate a brief portion for Ian and I. Apparently she was saying something about the beauty of Paris, and something about her two sons as well (we think).

Eventually we reached the steps of the Basilica. The lady reached out her empty left hand toward me and I stepped forward and Dwayne and I helped her climb the stairs to the entrance. I left her to open the door, and that's where we separated.



At first we were concerned that she would continue to need our help, but she moved along ahead and continued as she probably has done hundreds of times before. The three of us walked along the left side of the church, watching her with a naive sense of concern until we saw her sitting down and praying. The Basilica and its beauty seemed pretty trivial at this point, so we left and made our way to dinner during what was already a great first day in Paris.

Catching up: Munich, Memories and Museums (w/ images)

First I'd like to explain my lack of posts over the last week. Last week, we continued our trip by traveling from Prague to Munich- staying at the Wombat's Youth Hostel for 6 nights. The hostel was outfitted with computers which lacked any USB port- the only way I can upload images to this blog (unedited images mind you).

Yesterday, we took two trains to get to Paris and I have found an internet cafe in which I can now upload images. Without further delay...


Surfers in Munich's enormous English Garden.

Paraphrased from my journal-
July 4, 8:06 AM (Friday)
Munich- I just realised that it is the fourth of July. Weird I forgot about that until I woke up and checked my watch. Two days ago, a day after arriving in Munich, I ran into another old friend of mine. While having drinks with my travel mates, Ian and Dwayne, in the Wombar (the trendy pub on the lobby floor our our hostel), a tall scruffy man with a stained white shirt and dirty messy hair walked up to me and asks, "are you Beck?"


The stairs in our hostel.

I was taken back by 1)we were the same height, thus I was looking level at his eye (not usual for me) and 2)did I mention i was in Munich, Germany and this random guy just said my name?

"Yes I am," I replied.

"I'm Greg Keeney."

The name instantly registered in my brain with an image of a short twig-like blond boy in an over sized boy scout uniform (moms buy them big so you grow into them), a shirt that was never tucked in. This did not look like Keeney- we typically go by last names in Boy Scouts, except the case of myself, since for some reason 'Beck' is easier than 'Diefenbach.' Go figure.


The church with 'the devil's footprint.'

I have not seen Keeney for about 5 years, ever since i finished high school and left Troop 14, of San Francisco. Last I remember him, he was about 5'3" (now easily 6'2") and had an extremely unique raspy voice (still had it). I made a quick search around his face for anything else recognizable to verify his previous statement. There was a moment there where I actually didn't believe this 20-something guys standing in front of me. As though the prospect of an impostor attempting to con me with the story of a long-lost friend was actually possible.

The voice is what did it for me. No one else had this sound, and half a second later I initiated the only expression one can think of when this predicament arises: astonishment.

I find out he's been working as an intern in Europe for 6 months and is leaving to go home (the U.S.) the next day. When I heard this I knew I needed to spend the evening with Keeney recalling old stories of Troop 14, as well as fill in the 5 year gap from the present. Keeney invited my to a beer hall on the western side of town and I immediately agreed.


Making friends in Mubich beer gardens is very common.

It was a nostalgia-filled evening in which both of us acknowledged our interest in getting back involved with the troop in some form.

We ended back where we started, in our hostel's bar, and separated with well wishes and hopes to run into each other again- not likely in Europe.


Father and daughter rubbing a stature for good luck- missed the name of the statue.

July 4, Afternoon
Munich- Yesterday, Dwayne, Ian and I visited the Deustche Museum on the other side of the Munich. Munich is small enough you can walk anywhere you want to go, as we did this day. Literally translated, Deustche Museum means 'German Museum.' But a more accurate name would be 'German Science Museum.' It is packed with German innovations(and some non-German) covering tons of topics from musical instruments to space exploration.


The incredible mining exhibit in the underground levels of the Deutsche Museum.

The museum teaches the timeline of science with the origination, development and current status of most technologies used today as well as obsolete tools. It holds the first Diesel engine (which got a surprising 20 horsepower) and a fully intact German U-Boat military submarine.

The half a dozen floors of knowledge was very overwhelming. We easily lost track of time and before we knew it we were being escorted out because the building was closing for the night. We all felt we had missed so much that we wanted to see. Ian and I never got to experience the nearly full-size coal and precious ore mine in the basement levels of the building. Dwayne never got to experience the bio-chemistry section as well as many others. Although we only have a few days left in Munich, we plan on going back and seeing what we missed. Good thing I brought my old college student card, resulting in some fantastic Museum entrance discounts!



Later in the week we also visited the Dachau Concentration Camp located a few miles outside of Munich.


Dwayne visiting the prison chambers of the Dachau WW2 Internment Camp outside of Munich.


The Jewish Memorial site at Dachau.



Once again, sorry for the later than normal post. I will make up for lost time with another Munich post soon, and hopefully catch up with Paris experiences before we leave!


A tired Ian on the train leaving Munich, Germany for Paris, France.