36 Hours and Counting

...is about how long I've been in Cork. And yes, it's taken me this long to break down and finally set up a blog. Now everyone who told me I should get one had damn well better read it. You know who you are.


I'll start off with what have already proved to be "frequently asked questions."


How was the flight?
It started off with me spending five minutes forcing my stubborn duffel bag into the "Your Bag Must Fit Here" frame. Followed by another two minutes getting it back out once I'd wedged it in to the airline staff's satisfaction. I think a carry-on should qualify as anything you can physically carry to the gate (K16 is a bit of a haul), but American Airlines disagrees. Anyway, once my duffel bag passed muster, I got through security quickly (the guy ahead of me laughed when he saw me taking off my shoes ahead of time, but it pays to be ready to go), toted the aforesaid duffel to the aforesaid distant gate, and boarded my flight (sneaking past the second "Your Bag Must Fit..." station rather stealthily) with my pristine passport in hand. (I'd forgotten to sign the inside of it, but other than that everything was in good order.)


Okay, but really, how was the flight?
There were movies!! Need I say more?


Probably not, but if you want to...
This was my first international flight, and my first flight that was more than a couple of hours long. Those screens on the back of the seats rocked my world. After I'd looked at our flight path to my heart's content, I decided to watch "Never Let Me Go" out of nostalgia for my FYC (and even if we hadn't all bonded over that book, I might still have watched the movie for the Andrew Garfield factor). It's a bit awkward to be watching a really emotionally intense movie when the girl sitting next to you (Crystal, from Bradley University) is reading Cosmo. It's also awkward to be giggling hysterically at "Sherlock" after everyone else has gone to sleep (helpfully cued by the dimming of the overhead lights), but if anything was going to get me excited about crossing the Atlantic (other than Andrew Garfield) it would be "Sherlock."


Jesus, Amy, you haven't even gotten to the London layover yet. How long is this post going to be?
I don't know, but it can't be as long as my trek through Heathrow after Flight #1 landed. The bus ride between terminals was 7 minutes long, but it was more like a haunted construction site tour than just any old bus ride.


You usually make a few blunders when traveling. Care to share any?
Well, the flight attendants had deceived me by saying I didn't have to fill out an immigration card. I did. Also, when I was asked if I had any liquids other than the small ones in their ziplocked bag, I said no--forgetting that I still had a water bottle from the flight in my coat pocket. The guy who hand-checked that coat kindly let me drink the water and chatted with me as I did so. (Him: "Going someplace nice?" Me, in my chipper voice: "I hope so!") I also dropped just about each item I was carrying at least once (passport, scarf, jacket, other jacket, coat, etc), but there always happened to be some nice person walking behind me who made sure I didn't lose anything.


So then you had another flight, right?
Yes, but this time I was in line for check-in with several other girls going to Cork for study abroad, so we waited out the rest of our layover together. This was when I realized that everyone else already had euros, mostly leftover from previous trips abroad, and that some people even had working phones (mine was still in my pocket just for the placebo effect, but the poor thing couldn't even figure out the time anymore). But despite being jealous of these conveniences, I had a lovely 2-ish hour chat with these girls before we got on the plane, where I heard my first Irish accents of the day.


So what happened when the plane landed?
Don't rush me! I want to talk about how beautiful the view was just before we landed! I seriously don't know how it can be so green. And so many shades of green. Also, we got a glimpse of what I think may have been the Cliffs of Moher--which is probably pointless to mention because I can't describe them except to say they're gorgeous. Watch "The Princess Bride"; they're the Cliffs of Insanity. Only they're prettier in real life.


Okay, can you move it along? What did you do when you got off the plane?
We stood in line one last time to prove we belonged there. (My UCC acceptance letter, which had started out in such great shape, was severely crinkled by then, but that was all right because I have "a fine Irish name" according to the guy who stamped my passport.) Then the four of us split a taxi to our various flats--and by "split" I mean one of the girls with actual euros covered my share, because I'd been so busy following them that I hadn't gone to the ATM. The driver told us how the street where two of us would be staying had once been a cow field where he played as a child. When we arrived, it didn't resemble a cow field, but the building where I was living did happen to be locked. I waited at the house across the street until someone showed up to let me in and then...


Then you moved in?
Yup. I have a roommate named Maegan, and a very nice room, and a heater that we finally got to work after several hours of freezing while we unpacked/napped, and a bathroom with appliances that make all sorts of interesting sounds when in use. There are also two girls living in the same suite, in singles; one, whom I haven't met yet, is a Spanish girl studying here for the year, and the other is an American girl who's also studying here for a full year--aka Jessie, Maegan's and my guide to all things Cork.


So how did you spend your first night in Cork?
With Jessie as our chaperon and tour guide, Maegan and I picked up some toiletry essentials and Irish phones (which I later discovered I could've gotten for much cheaper at a different place, but, to quote The King's Speech, "I had to throw in a few [mistakes] so they'd know it was really me"). Then we went to dinner at a nearby pub, where I had what I think must have been my first full glass of beer (Carlsberg) which was actually very good, and some pizza. (The pepperoni pizza also had random pieces of potato on it--quite tasty, and of course quite Irish.)


And what did you do today?
Slept until one, did not get cash as planned because it was a bank holiday, attempted to go grocery shopping and of course failed because my sense of direction never serves me well on a first try, but did a bit of pleasant wandering around Cork (I'm pretty sure I never went beyond like a four-block radius, but I can't prove that because I didn't know where I was, so just imagine I explored the whole city). 'Twas a lovely walk, and I didn't die crossing the street, despite the fact that pedestrians don't wait for traffic signals, so you're either a silly foreigner who waits for traffic signals or a silly foreigner who just got run over after misjudging the traffic flow. The few pictures I've taken so far will be posted when I figure out how to get them off my camera without the connecty-cable-thing, which of course I couldn't find to pack when I was getting ready to leave home. (Sidenote: I was the one who figured out how to insert the SIM card into Maegan's and my phones. Me understanding technology intuitively: talk about a once-in-a-lifetime moment.)


So now what?
Now, I've eaten dinner courtesy of my generous suite-mate Jessie (given that I hadn't actually made it to the grocery store and thus had no food of my own to eat all day) and I've written this epically long blog post. I wish I could say they won't be this long in the future, but knowing how rambly I can get, that's unlikely. I do think they'll be more exciting, though. After all, now that I'm here, "The game" (as my newly-discovered, hip-and-happenin'-ed-up Mr. Holmes would say) "is on."