hot town, summer in the city

After another brief hiatus, I'm back, bitches. Well, "back" to the few of you who noticed my absence. Thanks for stroking my ego and warming the cockles of my heart. Or was that just the heat wave?

I've just returned from a long weekend in New York, which primarily revolved around sweating buckets and guzzling iced teas, but also featured several noteworthy guest appearances by friends accrued throughout various stages of my life.

Observations that are by no means revelatory in any way...

Sangria with this gal might not heal all wounds, but it doesn't hurt. Pret a Manger iced black tea with red fruits is probably one of the best remedies for surviving 100 degree weather. Realizing you've forgotten your book is a bummer-- until you pass the Strand kiosk on the SE corner of Central Park. 9 times out of 10, a dive bar with the right company will trump whatever's trendy-- especially if there's skee ball involved. Everything dies, baby that's a fact, but maybe it is better to bear the news of a deceased childhood pet in the presence of friends, Mexican food, and several midday Margaritas. Sometimes you need the friend who can break your stubbornness by saying trust me that it's too late for you to take the subway back alone, please get in a cab in a stern voice. Harry Potter exhibits are one of very few exceptions to the avoid-Times-Square-like-the-plague rule. The Lobby Bar at the Ace Hotel just might make a person want to spend an entire weekend afternoon studying. Being able to use walking as a means of transportation is a simple pleasure better appreciated after relying on a car for a long period of time-- though probably appreciated even more when the heat index isn't 110 degrees F.

Though I took no photographs, I can offer the following, taken by a friend in a Dingle diner (County Kerry, Ireland). Though I try to avoid behaving like a tourist while actually in the city, clearly I relish the opportunity to act like an NYC tourist in the Emerald Isle?

 

thanks, FregTK, for exposing me as the asshat I really am

Dublin Highlight: The Celt Pub

Traveling alone on my first trip to Dublin (I would return about a week later in the company of five gentlemen), afforded me the opportunity to wander aimlessly through the streets, sort out my mental map of the city at a leisurely pace, pop into a cafe on a whim or take an hour to find the perfect meal, to even give up entirely and plop down for a Guinness (or two... or three) in lieu of dinner. Having no competing interests to deal with can be extremely liberating, and I find that going for a long walk is often my favorite way to get to know a new city... even if a bit lonely at times. Ultimately, I do probably favor my time spent in Dublin with my companions. Being in the presence of people who make you happy is a simple enough luxury at home; being able to travel abroad with them can be an extraordinary treat. But while I prefer the conversation and the mere existence of companionship, I cannot deny that there are obvious merits of having alone time in a new place.

My aimless wandering in Dublin lead me to The Celt, a pub on Talbot Street, which is north of the Liffy River and away from the chaos and throngs of tourists in Temple Bar. Though they serve food and I wandered in hungry around 9:15 PM, my state of indecision and my indifference towards my growling stomach had me opting for a Guinness and a seat at a small table where I could read Joyce and rest my legs. By the time I was ready for another round, a duo with a guitar and fiddle had begun to play and I knew I wasn't going anywhere as long as there was music to be heard. The two young, handsome musicians energetically cycled through traditional Irish music, well-known Irish folk songs, classic covers, and even a rendition of Poker Face, which was surprisingly awesome. I put down my book and sat with a contented look on my face, Guinness in hand, until they finished at half eleven and I waltzed back to a good night's sleep at my hostel.

The following evening, I began a similar quest for food and ambiance, stopping by several "traditional" pubs recommended by Lonely Planet, only to be disgusted by the presence of big screen TVs and disappointed by the lack of the craic I was searching for. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right? I headed right back to The Celt, where another night of live music was already underway, this time by a trio of a guitar, fiddle, and accordion. Though the offerings were similar, they were no less enjoyable than the previous night and I delighted in realizing I had already committed some of the Irish drinking/folk songs to memory.

Three of my favorites are Galway Girl, Whiskey in the Jar, and I'll Tell Me Ma (Belle of Belfast City), and I've included versions of each below. Just imagine you are sitting in an Irish pub, beverage of choice in hand, and listening to a handsome young lad (or lass) play one of these to a tiny, but enthusiastic, crowd.

Though I gushed about it when my companions arrived, I never ended up going back with them. Sorry, guys-- we'll always have Dublin, yes, but it seems like only I will have The Celt.

If you go: The Celt is located at 81 Talbot Street. They have live music 7 days a week beginning at 9:30 PM. Get there early to grab a seat!

What ever happened to Ireland?

A dead computer battery.

A few days of sailing on the Chesapeake Bay, away from said misbehaving computer.

A few hundred Ireland photos to sort through and upload to a friend's server so that he can compile a huge collection of photographs from the three photographers on the trip.

Excuses, excuses, I know.

There's a lot of Ireland to go around, and I'll be getting to it very soon. Until then, let me pay tribute to the footwear that carried me from Baltimore to New York and all over the Emerald Isle. Because my feet is my only carriage-- if you don't count an Aer Lingus plane, several buses, and a Ford Mondeo.

Inch Beach, Dingle Peninsula, County Kerry, Republic of Ireland

New York bagels

If there is anything guaranteed to make you feel even more gross after a day of international travel, it is schlepping your luggage through the NYC subway in the summertime. Fact.

My gracious host for the night, guest blogger and frequent travel buddy, Julie, was kind enough to point out that I didn't exactly smell like roses after my 12 hours of travel that deposited me at Columbus Circle, fresh off the 1 train. Kinder still, she let me use her shower. What a friend.

But I ask you... how many things are better than waking up to a gorgeous morning in the Big Apple, feeling surprisingly not jet-lagged (though I have a feeling I may be speaking too soon), and walking a few blocks to get a fresh bagel with scallion cream cheese and lox? Definite points for America, my friends.

I'm back in action after over two weeks in Ireland that far exceeded my (already high) expectations. Over the next couple weeks I'll be detoxing (so much meat and Guinness!) and decompressing, revisiting the trip that took me through historically significant cities and breathtaking natural wonders, as a solo journey and in the company of old and new friends. This is also exciting for me, as it is my first time traveling internationally since starting Litterulae ab Mundano a few months ago. Like always, my appetite for travel has been whetted, but my wanderlust heart is left longing for more...

Bloomsday

June 16th. Bloomsday. The day in which Ulysses takes place. The day that Leopold Bloom wandered the streets of Dublin. The day that is now recognized every year as a literary celebration of James Joyce.

My first introduction to Ulysses came during a course about "scandalous arts" in which we read the final chapter, referred to as Molly Bloom's soliloquy, and discussed the obscenity trial of Ulysses (in the US in the 1930s).

My second attempt to tackle Ulysses, though I suppose my first real attempt at the whole, was during a three week trek in the Himalayas. Having torn through my other three novels during the first week of trekking, I opened Ulysses. "If it is the only thing I have to read, then it will get read," said logic. At this point in the trek I was already well over 4,000 meters above sea level. The walking would be much shorter due to the altitude, leaving me with far more down time. Perfect for reading, right? Not so much. Ulysses demands your full attention at sea level. At altitude, especially hovering around 3 miles above sea level, your brain is foggy, to say the least. I read half of Ulysses before telling myself to cut it out, I'd never remember it. How much do bragging rights about reading it count if you read every word, yet finished just short of comprehension?

My third attempt... is... now? Ulysses came with me to Ireland, but as I am writing from the past, I cannot predict how this battle is going. Even if it is not complete at this point, I will still appreciate Bloomsday for all that it is and know that probably 95% of my fellow revelers have not read the Joyce masterpiece cover to cover. And who knows, perhaps by this point I am among the 5%... but I know better than to count my chickens before they hatch.

June 16, 2011. Bloomsday in Dublin. I am there.

How to squeeze more travel out of your budget

 The Giants Causeway in Northern Ireland, via

Travel doesn't come cheap. But it doesn't have to burn through your bank account, either. One thing that I have become really adamant about is that it is possible to squeeze a little more travel out of your budget if you are willing to be a bit flexible.

I'm leaving for Ireland on Saturday, almost a full week ahead of my friends who will be joining me in renting a castle in County Clare the following week. Knowing that I had the luxury of time on my side (and let's face it, time is often the other huge constraint when it comes to the ability to travel), I decided to look into the possibility of extending my trip on the front end. Flying Aer Lingus, I was able to choose from a matrix of dates and varying prices. I could have left with my friends on Friday the 17th and flown into Shannon, or I could have chosen on Saturday the 11th and flown into Dublin for about $150 less. Guess which one looked more appealing to my opportunistic eye? Granted, it will cost me a little more than that to spend an extra six nights in Ireland, but not too much more if I play my cards right.

As I am staying in hostels, my accommodations will average about $25 per night, allowing me to break even with the money I saved by going early. And some of these are places with real character, like, say a converted old wine cellar in Dublin or a cottage on the Antrim Coast steps away from the Giants Causeway with a full breakfast included. Sure you give up a bit of privacy staying in a hostel (though most hostels do offer private rooms, which are very affordable if you are not traveling alone- an option I have exercised in the past), but when you are traveling alone and looking for a bit of conversation, hostels are a great place to meet fellow travelers and perhaps even chat with friendly owners.

I'm flying out of JFK, which is definitely not close to me by any stretch of the imagination. However, to fly out of Washington (which is not even super convenient) required an indirect flight, less flexible flight options, and was more expensive. I decided to stick with JFK and my Megabus tickets to New York from Baltimore over two months in advance set me back a grand total of $10.50 round trip. Add in LIRR tickets to meet the friend that will drop me at the airport (who I will later meet at the Shannon airport!) and to get back into the city on the way back, and I'm still paying less than $25 to take a much less expensive direct flight from JFK-DUB. Not bad. And not super inconvenient, either.

Throw in a few bus tickets (at around 10 Euro a pop), lunches, dinners, and few attractions (a black taxi tour of Belfast, Bloomsday festivities), and I'm still looking at less than $200 to spend an extra week in the Emerald Isle and further justify my plane fare.

As a single traveler with some extra time on my hands, I have the luxury to choose less expensive options that stretch my wallet and my travel itinerary. This time around it means that I will get to explore a bit of Northern Ireland and experience Bloomsday in Dublin in addition to a week of exploring the West from a castle. Not a bad trade-off for making a few frugal moves, right?

the IMF buys me dinner (and a pint or two) in Northern Ireland

My adventures in the Emerald Isle must be upon me because tonight I dug into the IMF. Now this is my personal international monetary fund, not of the Dominique Strauss-Kahn variety, which lives in an old Harney and Sons tea tin and is home to a variety of currencies, current and retired, left over from trips abroad or received as souvenirs from others, as is the case of the now-extinct Austrian schillings and the Dutch guilder. Hunting for Euros and Pounds, I recovered only half a Euro, but discovered a whopping 12.45 pounds. Not bad for a raid on the IMF tin. Though I will be touching down in Dublin on Sunday morning, I will spend my first few days in Northern Ireland taking in the Antrim coast and the troubled political history (and extensive political murals) of Belfast and perhaps Derry/Londonderry where my 12.45 pounds should fetch a plate of fish and chips and pint. Maybe two if I'm lucky.

I want to be queen of the internets!

If you happen to be one of my "regulars" on Litterulae, you might notice some changes.  (Or you might have noticed some more subtle changes after big changes were scrapped.  Change is sometimes good- like a change in location through traveling!  But sometimes change is bad)  Bear with me, as I'm still trying to navigate my way through templates and html and will certainly be working out some kinks over the next few days while I really should instead be focusing my energy on big picture life things.  Isn't the internet just the best/worst thing to join forces with procrastination ever?

If you are one of my few precious regulars, thank you, spank you.  If you happen to follow along with Google Reader or a similar RSS feed, but aren't a public "follower," why don't you show some support (help a sista out?) and click the button, take the ride?  If bloglovin is more your style, you can now follow through there, as well.  But you should probably show me you love me and go both ways (insert really pathetic bisexuality joke here).

In an attempt to conquer social media/catch up with my peers/compensate for not having a smart phone, I also took the plunge and opened a tumblr account.  For all you tumblr folks out there, citizenmundi.tumblr.com is where it's at.  Think short and sweet version of insane wanderlust meets more random stuff about turtles with a heaping spoonful of the daily things that make my life awkward.  Oh, alright, heaping spoonful squared- who am I kidding?

What to look forward to...

Ireland.  And lots of it.  Now is as good a time as any to announce that I'll be spending half the month of June in Ireland traveling around by myself for a bit as well as staying with friends.  In a castle.  A castle?  A castle.  I'll be doing plenty of daydreaming and rough planning in the coming weeks, so help me out with that, OK?  In preparation, I will also be undertaking a bit of a literary challenge.  What better time than now to become better versed in Irish literature, culture, and history?

Guest Posts.  A lovely friend of mine leaves for Lyon soon and has kindly offered to contribute her talents to Litterulae (I said yes, of course).  With all the time I will be away in June, I will be looking for some guests to step in and keep this little exercise in narcissism up and running.  If you have an idea for a guest post that fits in with the general theme of this blog, send an email to citizenmundi{at}gmail{dot}com.  Think travel guides (could be just an insider's look at your city), amusing stories from the road, travel photography, a story behind a souvenir, your dream vacation...

More travels, more photography, more ridiculous stories.  I've barely scratched the surface of several years of traveling, and I'm still adventuring (and making an ass out of myself/learning valuable life lessons) whenever possible.  If there is anything in particular that you'd like to hear more about (or less about), leave some feedback in a comment or an email.  Seriously.

So there you have it.  Follow me, leave some feedback, help make me queen of the internets. 

Dylan the turtle endorses this blog.

"Irish Potatoes" for St. Patty's

Tucked into my memories, still just within reach, I am sitting in the kitchen of my first house helping my mom roll "Irish Potatoes"... and helping myself to several in the process.  I would later eat so many that I would vomit everywhere, as my four year-old self probably did not understand what could possibly have be meant by "too much of a good thing."

Though I am not sure I could trust myself to have just one (or five), my memories of St. Patrick's Day growing up in Philadelphia are dotted with the sugary goodness of "Irish Potatoes."  I'm not sure if they are a regional thing (utilizing Philadelphia cream cheese), but I have not have one since the family moved from the Philadelphia area to Maryland-- though it could simply be that as teenagers, the homeroom was not still a place to cut up shamrocks and celebrate the Americanized secular version of an Irish Catholic holiday.  

image via here with a parve version using tofutti that could easily be made vegan

It has been many, many years since I last experienced an "Irish Potato" melting in my mouth, but I am willing to bet that they are just as delightful as they were in my childhood.  They are super easy to make, so why not whip up a batch to enjoy with your Guinness?

"Irish Potatoes"

• 1/4 cup butter, softened
• 1/2 (8 ounce) package cream cheese
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 4 cups confectioners' sugar
• 2 1/2 cups flaked coconut
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

Directions 

In a medium bowl, beat the butter and cream cheese together until smooth. Add the vanilla and confectioners' sugar; beat until smooth. Using your hands if necessary, mix in the coconut. Roll into balls or potato shapes, and roll in the cinnamon. Place onto a cookie sheet and chill to set. If desired, roll potatoes in cinnamon again for darker color.