At the ATM

In Dublin's city centre the beggars usually choose one of a few possible strategies.

They can murmur a few words or play one single flat note on a recorder and claim they're musicians
They can just lay on the pavement in a sleeping bag and hope that people, while stepping over them, throw all their change in their paper cup
They have their kids (more often than not dressed in quite expensive Nike sportsgear) hassle you for some change.
Or they camp out next to an ATM and ask everyone if they can spare anything.

During my last visit to the ATM I was as per usual confronted with someone who would have liked some of my hard earned money. That wasn't what surprised, no shocked, me about the situation. This particular homeless drunk was ON THE PHONE. He did manage to ask whoever he was talking to to hold on for a second though while he asked me for money.

mariekschen gets cash at ATM
drunk to conversation partner: hold on a sec
drunk to mariekschen: can ya help us out loooove?
mariekschen: ehh no I don't think so pal
drunk: feckin foreigners....

detail: his phone looked a lot better than mine does....

Yes it is warm here too!

According to the papers that is.
The average temperature in April was between 10 and 11.5 degrees celcius. The amazing fact the weatherman managed to add to this is that this temperature would even be 3 degrees too warm for May.

Lucky us....

Today was very nice though :)

yes we're still here!

hello hello!

sorry for all the silence on my part, but working and having no internet connection at my new place does not really help adding to this blog. oh and killing my beloved ibook didn't prove to be very beneficial either (don't try that at home!).

However, I did manage to join a wonderfully decadent gym! (the one on Aston Quay) I'm thinking it must be owned by the local Russian maffia. If it's not, or if there is no Russion maffia over here, they should establish one and take over ownership. Just to add to the whole overdose of tacky gold eagles and velvet drapes and thrones that are scattered about the place.

Conversation at lunch

Alistair: I'm going to break my wrist some day
Pamela: eh doing what?
Alistair: Fussball. Playing those Germans can get quite violent!
Mariekschen: yes, we know all about that....

What to do on a Saturday night...

Because of this I got to go here. A nomination for best group blog was the ticket in and although no award was actually cashed in, it was a great night altogether.

back in Dublin!

hi there!

yes I know it has been a while, but I have been slightly busy....
First there was the Carnaval, which you'll hear more of in a later post. Then there was some manic packing, unpacking and repacking of bags, a goodbye party and after that mariekschen was heading for Amsterdam airport (without the planned bottles of red wine, mind you) in order to fly to her (re)new(ed) home: Dublin, Ireland.

When I arrived at the B&B that Google booked for me for my first weeks, I was obviously very happy to see that it was nice and posh. Towels the size of blankets, a hot press for your suit trousers, a ginormous bed and, yes, miniature shampoo bottles (yes, I have a selection for whomever wants them)!!

Not much time to wallow in this luxury though: I had my first house to look at (such a dump!) and a rugby match to watch (horray!). Oirland completely trashed Engerland and all of Dublin was happy. well except the visiting England supporters probably. I met up with Dave, whom I know from Cambridge, and his brother-in-law and it was time to get a few more beers into my stomach.

The house hunt went quite well and after only a few days, a number of really crappy and overpriced places and two realy nice ones, I received the news that I could move in to one of the forementioned nice ones. Happy days so.
It's a new apartment I share with the girl who owns it. she's my age and an architect who shares my good taste in music. brilliant!

So far so good!

Drinks on a Sunday

Rosemarie is leaving for Cameroon on Wednesday, so another reason to meet up on a Sunday afternoon was born. Utrecht was the place of choice and various glasses of Jupiler were happily consumed.

R0913R: I think I want to become überhip and have Sunday evening drinks.
Mjon: not Sunday afternoon?
R0913R: nah that's not nearly as cool as Sunday evening. Sunday afternoon in a pub resembles too much a children's playground for my liking.

On philosophy:
Eva: who was that guy again with the tabula rasa?
Mariekschen: Aristotle
Eva: no, I mean some english guy
Mariekschen: eh Locke then?
Rosemarie: Yes he's the one!
Eva: what's his first name?
Mariekschen: John
Eva (to Reosemarie): see! I got that first bit right!

An empty space in the living room

My sister moved out and took her chair with her, unveiling the 'secret' hiding place.


Mother: Oh no, now everyone can see our stash!
Sister's boyfriend: ehh, well I guess you will have to start working on that then...

At home...

Life at home is pretty quiet. At 8 in the morning I wake up to the sound of my mother rummaging about in the kitchen and by the time I step out of the shower, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon has reached the second floor. My mother has been making apple sauce (appelmoes) for a week now and has been ringing friends for empty Weck-jars, because some of hers are still filled with the plums and pears she put in there years ago and which then slipped into oblivion (they still taste great though, we've been eating them for dessert now too).
The reason for all this activity is that my aunts apple trees got a bit overexcited this year (it's going to be a cold winter, according to the 'omroep Brabant' calendar of country wisdom) and she gave my mother three huge bin bags full of apples (otherwise they would only be eaten by the sheep anyway).
In order to get the apple sauce to stay well for a long time (we're talking years here) you have to follow a careful process of cooking the apples the way you like them, sterilising the jars - twice, filling them and then cooking them again with the sauce already in them.

A FEW weck jars


Cooking apples into yummy apple sauce


filling the jars


cooking the jars for the vacuum effect


and that's just from one day....


By the time she's gone through the entire stash of apples we'll have more than enough apple sauce to get us through WWIII, so you are all cordially invited in case shit should hit the fan....

Meanwhile, a stable full of poor cows has been waiting to be milked for at least four weeks now... The local job agency still hasn't found a suitable candidate for the position.

While you're waiting for my photos to upload...

Take a look at the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and His Noodly Appendage.
Excellent Intelligent Design spoof!

Portugal!

Carmel and I decided we definitely deserved a nice holiday after all our hard work on our projects. With only three criteria in mind we went to a travel agency and Portugal was the place that had nice weather, good food and was cheap. yay!

The weather wasn't extremely warm, but nice enough for a holiday (i.e. the rain fell at night). Our appartment was very close to the beach and the strip of shops, pubs and clubs and because hardly anyone was staying in our building, we had the pool to ourselves too!


Actually, hardly anyone was staying in the town at all (the demographic was limited to English and Irish over-60s and under-10s, really), so we took a few daytrips. First, we went to Lisbon for a day. I saw the monument for the Portugese explorers that once covered my notebook in primary school and we took cute little trams up a mountain and walked back down into the city centre.

We also went surfing, which was really cool. I had never tried it before, but it's my new favourite thing.


Waiting for the bus to Zoomarine (a parc with dolphin shows and cute little mini rollercoasters), wonderining why it took so long, and finally seeing it creeping up the road:
Carmel: Jesus, that thing is slow!
Mariekschen: maybe it is carrying someone with a spinal cord injury
Carmel: that would be a logical explanation.
Mariekschen: well, they're picking us up at four again, so I guess we should make it there before that time.

My new friend the manatee is having a little snack:


Oh and we tried all the cocktails on the menu too!

Aaaand we're back!

Hello hello,

Yes, I finished my thesis, handed it in, cleared out my green room and boarded a plane back to the Netherlands.

As you can understand, I desperately need a holiday first, so I will be on my way to Portugal tomorrow morning! horray!

When I get back I'll update this blog to its usual standard and will tell you all about my last weeks in Dublin.

Talk soon!

mariekschen

In the paper today...

Caption: Junior Certificate students queueing outside the disco in Old Wesley Rugby Football Club, Dublin, last night.

Need I say more?

I thought so

Or just maybe that summer. is. definitely. OVER. And good luck with your bladder infections, girls!

sneak preview: the houbits on tour - anthropological fieldwork

No visuals, just a conversation between my shocked siblings and sister's boyfriend and my flatmate Karen (in tracksuit bottoms as always)

Karen: Marieke told me that I have to get a new wardrobe if I want to come and visit her in the Netherlands

Mariekschen: yes, I'm not taking you anywhere when you're wearing those tracksuit bottoms. I'm not picky really, but there is only so much I can take.

Laurens: So is it true that everyone wears tracksuits here? I though she was joking.

Karen: Oh yeah. But I only wear the expensive stuff though. I don't want to look like a knacker!

Koen: ehhh...

Gertie: so you really wear this all the time? I thought you just came back from a walk.

Karen: oh I did actually just go for a walk. But I do wear sporty stuff every day.

Koen: right...

Karen: don't worry though, I dress up like a slut when I go out!

(at this point, three jaws fell to the ground and mariekschen covered her face with her hands)

The really scary thing might just be that none of this actually surprises me anymore.
I have tried and tried to explain that it doesn't even matter if your tracksuit is from nike or some cheapy non-brand, they really are made to be worn during some form of sports or maybe on your way to that particular sporting activity. Not for shopping, going to the cinema or even to work (unless you work in a gym obviously).
And really, I have given up. Not giving in though!

some things never change...

A telephone conversation with our girl in Brussels

simone: hello
mariekschen: hey, it's me
simone: Hi! good to hear from you. Forgive me though, I'm a bit drunk...
mariekschen: haha! well I have a deadline in three weeks and about four chapters to go.
simone: so nice to know that some things never change. You ring me after I had just had a few drinks and you have four chapters to write in three weeks.
mariekschen: bliss, isn't it?

soon: pics and stories of the Houbits on tour.
First: 4 chapters of thesis to write, so see you in a few weeks....

Good night.

I wish I was a prawn cracker with flowers in my hair...

Yes, last weekend was Cambridge time again...

Because I had to go to London to look at a few exhibitions for my thesis, I decided to combine the trips and head over to Engerland a few days early this year. My trip began on Monday afternoon when a Ryanair plane brought me to a melting London. A train from stansted, a bus and a tube later Emma picked a soaking wet mariekschen up at the tube station and treated me on nice cold water and a lovely home made shepard's pie. Thanks!
Tuesday was going to be the warmest day of the week and perfect to look at dead people. The exhibition was pretty much disappointing and not nearly as well done as bodyworlds. In a way that is good, beacuse I can criticise it in my thesis. ghe!
Wednesday I had an interview at the Royal College of Surgeons in London and the curator told me everything there is to know about John Hunter and his eerie collection. Another day well spent. I popped in to the British Museum as well to have a look at the mummies. The building is absolutely amazing and the collections are legendary. The aircon, however, was not, so I decided not to hang around too long.
When I got back to Emma's we loaded all our luggage onto our backs and hopped back on the tube with Greenwich as our destination to pick up Emma's tent. After that, George picked us up at the train station and brought us to his house. The final leap of the journey started on thursday morning; the car was packed, the tires filled with air and up to Cambridge we went.

It's always nice to arrive at the campsite. Meet your friends, camp at the exact same spot as the years before and, very important, find out that they did not move the Guinness tent either.
It was yet another great edition with great bands, lovely weather and good company. And of ocurse the late night sessions:

Alistair: I can play anything as long as it's in the key of G.
30 mins later
Alistair: This banjo is drunk.

What more is there to say....

Johnnie (singing to himself): I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair..
Wee Dave: Where do I know that from?
Johnnie: oh it's in the charts now.
Wee Dave: ah, alright. So, prawn cracker, is it?
mariekschen: ......

that about sums it all up I guess.

and some pics for the fans....

See my Tabblo>

Happy St Monday!

For Karen's Birthday, Rosemary and I decided to have a little party at our house. Pimms, popcorn, ingredients for vodka-smoothies and party hats were all to be found at tesco and the two of us decided to have the party up and going when Karen would come home from her tennis training.

Rosemary (while drinking her first ever glass of Pimms): Hmm this tastes good. Don't think it will get me drunk though
Mariekschen: hah, you just wait and see...

within half an hour we were dancing on kitchen chairs....

Of course madam didn't show up until midnight and by then there was no more pimms, the party hats had found other destinations we nearly finished all the popcorn too. Around 11 we had already decided that the party should have a new name. Instead of Happy 27th Karen it was renamed to happy St monday (since it was a Monday after all).

The Pimms:


Rosemary and Pimms:


yes, I was there too:

Oxegen!

A few weeks ago I went to to oxegen. Armed with funky pink wellies, muesli bars and a roll of toiletpaper, we set out to Punchestown racecourse. It's a two day festival, but since Karen refused to go camping, we drove up and down from Dublin. And since I didn't drive anyway (these idiots are still on the wrong side of the road, mind you!), I didn't mind getting into the passenger's seat of the car at night and being dropped home and picked up again in the morning.

On the first day it rained until about 6 pm. The rain was actually heavy enough for us to decide not to go and see anything that was not playing in a tent. Streams of water made their way through the public inside the tents anyway. Thank god for my wellies, otherwise I would have had very cold and wet feet. Fortunately the wethaer cleared up later on though. Highlights of the day: deathcab for cutie, Gomez, the Who and Eels.

The sunday was very sunny. yeah! Time to see a lot of bands. Highlights were the Zutons, the Feeling, Clap your hands and say yeah, Sigur Ros, Arctic Monkeys and the Charlatans. The Chilli Peppers were shite. Endless guitar solos get very old really fast. I know that, you know that. In fact, everybody knows that. So why don't they?

Oh and I saw Jerry Flannery. Irish Rugby player for Munster and Ireland. Of course all the people I was with play tennis and for them the only event on grass that actually matters is Wimbledon. So when I saw him first on saturday I had to explain all the Irish people around me who the man was (how postmodern....;0p). Then on Sunday I saw him again and even got a picture. yeah!

So, that's that for today.

For the rest, the weather is really nice. 20 - 25 degrees and actually a bit chilly sometimes. Of course my flatmates think they're melting on the spot. Not used to anything, these people over here.....

See my Tabblo>

some more pics of Inis Mor

Inis Mor's main mode of transport


While cycling.
Kirstyanne: What's with all these stone walls?
mariekschen: don't know, must be to indicate property borders or something
Kirstyanne: but there's just so many. Seems like they just built them to keep busy or something.
mariekschen: probably. I mean, you can't really grow anything in this place anyway.


some nice cliffs and me on the very edge of Europe


Deep sea diving from a distance


More cool cliffs


So, did the Vikings play squash too?

Oh no!

No Tour de France on telly here! And this one was finally going to be interesting. No Lance Armstrong and his slaves to make it too predictable and a huge doping scandal to top it all off. I had found my peace with the fact that I would have to do without Mart Smeets and his Tourjournaal every night. But no finish in Valkenburg on Tuesday at all for me now.

Instead, Wimbledon is on three channels and I for one can't really be bothered with tennis.

What am I going to do with myself this summer? Have to find a whole new thesis routine now. No more working through the night, wake up when the cyclists start, and start studying when they're done.

It's not fair, I tell you.