Eurotrip - Featuring The Heff

Weeeeeeeeeeell! How's the crack? Ye takin' the lads out tonight then?

Such a thing is quite standard to ask in Kilkenny, but I'll delve into that further down the post.

I'm sitting next to a window, and the sun is shining through and it got kind of warm (an unfamiliar feeling of late), and it got so warm that I began to sweat a little bit, so I took off my jacket. It's kind of gross, but it was actually good to have the smell of sweat in my nostrils once again. I was starting to miss it. Now though, it's just starting to make me sick.

The bus arrived into Kilkenny vomit-free thank God, but I was doubting my ability to hold that stuff down. About 30km outside of Kilkenny I nearly threw up, the taste was in the back of my throat and everything, and only seconds later I saw a sign telling us that the next 10km was going to be curvy roads with some elevation. This little pig wasn't impressed, but he made it.

Our first impression of Kilkenny was awesome! The air was very crisp indeed. To compare, one could say Townsville's air is like eating a banana and Kilkenny's an apple. A green one at that. Typical of our travel style, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, so when we found out that Kilkenny was a town half-trapped in the medieval ages, we nearly let out a little wee. Minutes after getting off the bus, we noticed a big dirty bastard of a church left over from the great ages. I love thow they still use them today for their usual Sunday service. Such a thing makes me sad at the same time, because I know that Australia would never allow something so old (Not that we have anything that old) to still be used. Surely someone would somehow find a way to sue the church because they tripped over a dodgy brick or something. I don't think it's such a big problem here, people know that if they trip over something, it's their own stupid arse fault.



The streets are great! The footpath is only one person wide. Big fat fatties can't really walk on the footpath, so they sort of have to walk half on the road. There were a few roads made out of cobblestone which I found to be quite a treat. The only thing that annoys me in Kilkenny is the stupid effing traffic light crossings. In Australia you have a big button that you push, and shortly after, a little green man says you can walk across the road safely. The idea is similar in Kilkenny, but you have a little iddy biddy yellow spot that you have to run your finger over (not a button, but just a painted yellow spot), and then you wait literally between 5-7 minutes for that little green bastard to turn up. I have no quams with waiting a little while, but not when it's 10 o'friggan'clock at night and it's drizzling and cold as an ice block. Far out man, they need to sort that out because as soon as you stop walking, it seems to drop another 5 degrees.

Since arriving in Ireland, we've been on a mass search for Life-Line stores, or anything remotely similar in order to get some new jackets. By our luck Kilkenny has like 6! Much of our arrival day, we spent shredding the second hand stores and we both made away with a reasonable buy each. After jacketing up with our new jackets, we hit up Dunnes Store (no-one who isn't Irish ever seems to be able to pronounce the name properly and everytime you ask a local, it sounds nothing like how it's spelt, so we're never sure whether we're talking about the same thing. Most of the fellow travellers we've met just call it the D-U-N-N-E-S store) which is a super-market, department store and bottle-shop all in one. Well, to b e fair, every super-market, convenience store or even servo sells grog. We decided on pasta and ate it three nights in a row, I think it's time for a change tonight. We met a German guy in our hostel who we like to call Old Mate. He introduced himself to both of us seperately, but neither of us quite caught his name. Old Mate had hair down to his crack and was an absolute champion in every way. We all went to a place that we know as the 'late' bar. It seems to be a fitting name as we got there at about 9 and there was NO-ONE there. About 2 hours later, the place was booming. I see that strange for a bar, but I'm a pretty strange chap. On that same night I feel in love. There's a beer brewed in Kilkenny, but consumed Ireland wide known as Smithwicks. To describe it would be rather impossible. It's a darker ale, but travels to the gullet much easier than Guinness. It's older than Guinness and more Irish folk drink it. Since my first, that's basically all I've been drinking.



On the second day, Big Boy wanted to go and see all the castles and churches, so we hit that shit up. Most of them had an entry fee so we just admired them from the outside, because that's the stingy bastards we are. The only place we REALLY wanted to see was the Kilkenny Castle, and so we paid their shitty fee of 6 euro (About $9-10). Shortly after we paid their fee, the man behind the counter kindly "reminded" us that we couldn't take any photo's of anything. That dirty shit knew we didn't know that before. Gah, whatever. The castle was still super awesome and there was still all this old stuff everywhere. Whether the chairs, tables and beds were real or just replica's I don't know, but it still looked very real and had the cosy feel of a castle. We had lunch outside the castle which consisted of a big loaf of some kind of bread and ham. I do apologise for no pictures of the INSIDE of the castle...Wait, why am I apologising? You should be angry at that arse at the entry.



After returning to the hostel we met four Australian girls (The first Australian's we've met on the trip) and a girl from Vancouver. It was decided that we were to have a drinking game and go to a bar. It was the first game of Kings I've ever played, and quite obviously I had to scull that shit in the middle...The pub however was fantastic. The band playing was playing 90% traditional Irish folk music. All that cool stuff that we don't have in Australia. Imagine having the entire nation knowing 20 songs like Waltzing Matilda and actually knew the words! I love it! These pale little red-heads have a LOT of culture.

It was this night where I picked up "Weeeeeeeeeeell! How's the crack? Ye takin' the lads out tonight then?". Kilkenny has their own little language that other Irelandites, or anyone else in the world for that matter, wouldn't understand. 'Weeeeeeeeeeell' means hello, it has to be really long when you say it and you have to emphasise the first bit of the eee's and the ll's. There's so many rules. 'How's the crack' basically means how's it going, but you say it more like 'Howzacreck'. There's no distinction between a man and a woman, everyone is a lad, so when you say 'ye takin' out the lads out tonight then', you're asking 'are you going out with your friends tonight?'. When the traditional Irish band stopped playing, there was an upstairs section to the bar. If I was ever starting to miss Australia, I would just go back to the upstairs bar. The upstairs section plays all the Australian 'favorites' like that bullshit Riverside song and that Kei$ha girl who washes her mouth with whiskey. You know the one's that seem to be playing in EVERY club in Australia, EVERY time you walk past and you could swear they all sound like the same song somtimes. Yeah. It was only when I got to this bar when I realised I hadn't heard ANY shit music since coming to Ireland. I'm in my glory.

On the way back to the hostel, I met some guy with dreadlocks who was wearing a SHIRT SLEEVE on his HEAD!! Faaaaark yeah! He gave me the number of a girl who would fix my dreads, and because she likes meeting people, free of charge! We were supposed to leave the next morning for Cork, but who was I to pass up a free opportunity for my dreadlocks to return to cool level?

My only plan for the next day was to get the locks fixed, and her phone was broken all day, so Ben and myself went and watched the soccer (Liverpool vs. Manchester) at the pub with the girl from Vancouver (Lyssa). She invited us and another Canadian couple to go to a place called the Pumphouse later in the night because there was supposed to be a Beatles cover band playing. We went there, and there was no cover band, but in it's place was a band unknown to us, who were playing originals. We sat in awe for maybe an hour or so, not saying a word to anyone. I think the three Canadians thought we were weird, but this band truly was something else. None of the songs were in your face and and every member of the band had sometime insanely unique about their style. Looking around the bar, I could have seen this as being my 'local' if I was ever to live there. So many other people in the bar were in the same state of mind as us. The band didn't even have a stage, but were rather just shoved in a small corner. One of the Canadians bought us all Baby Guinness shots. It's Tia Maria with a head of Bailey's and looks like, who would have guessed, a Baby Guinness!



Currently, we're on a bus heading to Cork. It's supposed to be the best place in Ireland for the live music and such, so God only knows how long we'll be spending there. Two of the Austalian girls and the Canadian couple are on the same bus, so who knows, we may travel with them for a little while more. For now though, I'll get back to my Greenhornes (Cheers Sam) and enjoying the very beautiful and green Irish country lands.

Talk soon jah?