Bruised and battered

There's a bit to this pole-dancing business. Never knew that you can bruise your legs and knees without falling on the floor first or having your sister bump into you and knock you off your bike after a night out during Carnaval.
I have nice purple-black bruises on the inside of my right knee (original or what?!), the front of both my knees and the inside of my lower thighs. So happy it's not summer...

Glendalough

My friend David had some time off (or maybe just denied that he didn't really) and came to visit me for 3 days. Browsing the travelbooks for something nice and close to Dublin to visit, we came across Glendalough.
Glendalough (Valley of the two lakes) is situated south of Dublin in County Wicklow and is the site of an ancient Monastic city (6th century) of which the ruins and a few buildings remain. A priest named Kevin once came to the beautiful valley to live in absolute isolation as far as possible from any people, but the word spread and followers flocked the area. All ofcourse unaware of the irony that they wanted to hang out with a hermit who moved there to be as far away from everything as possible.
Anyway, a settlement and monastery grew and our Kevin became a saint. And now tourists flock the remains of the city in summer. Luckily the tourist season does not encompass January, so except for a group of Americans we had the place all to ourselves.
Some pics:

St Kevin's Church


The Round Tower as seen from the Lower Lake


Reefert Church


The cave called "St Kevin's Bed" as seen from across the Upper Lake. The story goes that a naked women tried to seduce St Kevin here, but he rejected her by throwing her into the lake.


And of course a nice view of the Lower Laker with some sheep

Bliss....

All my assignments are done, handed in and never looked at again (by me that is). Time for a whole bunch of nothing. Or well, nothing... there are movies to see, museums to visit and Rachel and I have started our pole-dancing course. I know, I know, but it's been on Oprah, one of the desparate housewives does it and it's good for your arms and abs. And it's also good fun with very normal people, of whom none is aspiring a carreer in the matter.
The rest of the time I'll just do absolutely nothing until february 6th. sigh....

I love it when unknown neighbours get Christmas presents I can use!

When I got back to Dublin, I was happily surprised when my cute and shiny iBook told me I could connect to a public network called 'swarder'. So somebody in my street I have probably never met got wireless broadband for Christmas (I guess, since the connection wasn't up before I left) and doesn't know he/she should secure the network. Until they find out, mariekschen is happily surfing away. Horray for Irish people discovering technology!
slainte

The one about the day we nearly went to Paris

January 1st is a peculiar day. Waking up with a slight (or not so slight) hangover, making your way downstairs to find what's left of last night's pre 12 o'clock eating and drinking feast and eat whatever is left over from the pile of oliebollen. And then back to bed.
This year I heard Marjon cleaning up the kitchen and decided to join her. A bit later, Rogier had found his way out of bed as well and it was time to put the croissants in the oven. Yumm.

Rogier: How about having real croissants in Paris tomorrow?
Mariekschen: You're going to Paris tomorrow?
Rogier: Yes, it's only two hours by train.
Mariekschen: Only two hours? Why didn't we go to Paris more often then?
Rogier: The ticket costs 82 euros.
Mariekschen: Ah, that must be the reason then.
Marjon: I don't really want to go for two days though. Can't we just come back the same day?
Mariekschen: If it's just going to be for the day, then I'll come with you.
Rogier: We should look into hiring a car then. That will probably be cheaper.

Prices were checked, times and distances measured, Rogier was going to wear his new übercool T-shirt and we were all looking forward to having real croissants on the steps of Sacre Coeur in Paris the next day.

And then the car rental place was closed on a Sunday.....

Rogier: What losers are we anyway? We don't know anybody in Maastricht with a car.
Marjon: Or anyone who would say: sure you can have my car and drive to Paris.
Mariekschen: we are such a sad act.
Rogier: Hmm. Let's just decide now that we'll go some other day.

January 1st is a really good day to make plans like these. It gives your otherwise lost day a goal and makes you feel good about your start of the new year at the same time. And besides, who doesn't like the romance of the idea to just decide to go to Paris (and nearly actually do so.)
So although this once again proves that the Maastricht economy is definitely not a 24 hour one and car rental places have their own logic, we'll always have Paris.