Bruges, Calais, Dover, London, and...

The next day it was an early start as we made our way to Bruges, Belgium for lunch. (We also used the opportunity to load up on - what else? - Belgian chocolate!).

We enjoyed wandering the city before making our way to Calais, France to board the ferry for Dover. (The last time I was on that ferry I slept the entire time, so this time it was nice to actually walk around and explore - it's amazing how kitted out it is!)

From Dover it was back to London for our last night. :( Court booked our accommodation whilst I was in Ireland, so I had no idea what to expect. Cheeky boy that he is, he told me it was a hostel similar to the one we stayed in in Glasgow (which wasn't bad, but it wasn't off the charts either). So, imagine my surprise when our cab pulled up in front of a gorgeous five-star hotel! Sorry, no pics, but it was fantastic!

Early the next morning I flew back to Toronto, and several hours later Court began the long haul back to Perth. It's hard to believe that after so much planning and excitement, our trip is really over. We are so incredibly grateful and humbled by our experience, and feel so lucky to have met such wonderful people along the way. Though we covered a lot of ground in 5 months, there is still so much more we'd like to see. In the not-so-distant future we hope to visit India, and spend several months exploring South America. Who knows - we haven't made any final decisions about where we're going to end up in January, so you just might see some posts from a new and exotic locale before you know it!

Thank you so much for following our travels thus far. Though we started this blog to track our progress on this particular trip, we're going to keep it going so that our friends and family throughout the world will know what we're up to. Hopefully, it will be as exciting as the last year has been!

Lots of love and good tidings during this holiday season, and for the year to come.

Ali & Court

Amsterdam, Netherlands

In a word, Amsterdam was SENSATIONAL. Truly. I didn't know what to expect, to be honest, but I absolutely fell in love with the city.

Before we made our way to the Botel (yup, a hotel on a boat), we stopped at a farm to see how Edam and clogs are made. I skipped the clogs, but left with a massive block of cheese encased in wax - it was delicious!!!

 To get from the Botel to the city itself we had to take a short ferry ride of about 10 minutes. It was pretty cool - just us and a thousand Dutch on bicycles. :) We were amazed at the number of bicycles in Amsterdam, even though it's a pretty well-known stereotype. On our first morning we actually went on a guided bike tour of the city which we thoroughly enjoyed - the weather was gorgeous and we were able to cover a lot of ground in a short period of time (super helpful for planning the rest of our day). We had explored the famed Red Light District the previous evening which was really entertaining. We considered going to see a sex show, but ultimately decided our money could be better spent on other experiences (such as waffles drench in Nutella and sliced bananas). Ditto for the "coffee shops" - because our time was limited, we didn't want to be too high to remember it. :)

After our bike ride we back-tracked to the Anne Frank Huis. It was an incredibly moving experience and extremely well done - you get all of the information you need without being completely overwhelmed, and they have a fantastic interactive display on social justice on the ground floor. Anne Frank, of course, was a young German girl whose parents, sensing that trouble was brewing for the Jews, emigrated to the Netherlands as Hitler rose to power in the 1930s. When the Nazis began to send the Dutch Jews to concentration camps, Anne and her family - as well as another family and a single man - hid in the secret annex of the building behind her father's business. They hid successfully for several years, aided by their friend Miep Gies (and several others), before they were betrayed and sent to separate camps. Here are some (poorly written) facts about Anne Frank from The Anne Frank Center USA:

1. How unique was the hiding place or the Secret Annex?The Franks were most unusual both in finding a place to hide together and in having so many people who were willing to help them. It is very important to put Anne Frank's story in context to the stories of what happened to most Dutch Jews. Three out of four were killed and a very small minority found places to hide, mostly with farmers.

2. Who were the Helpers in the Secret Annex?
Bep Elli Voskuijl, Miep Santrouschitz Gies, Victor Kugler, and Johannes Kleiman. Remember all the silent helpers too, the butcher, the vegetable grocer, Miep's husband, Jan. All of these people were helpers of the Frank family.

3. Why is Anne Frank so well known?
A young victim of Nazi tyranny and the author of a famous diary, Anne Frank has become a symbol of 1.5 million children who died in the Holocaust. For many people Anne Frank became a symbol of the six million Jewish men, women, and especially the children who were murdered by the Nazis in the WWII. It is almost impossible to comprehend this number, but the story of Anne Frank makes it possible to understand what the war meant for one of these victims.

4. What language did Anne use to write her diary?
Anne wrote her diary in Dutch.

5. Where did the family go into hiding?
The secret annex was located The Opekta-Works at Prinsengracht 263, Amsterdam, The Netherlands. The date the family went into hiding was July 6, 1942.

6. Why are there different versions of the diary?
The (a) version of the diary was the very first writings made by Anne. After hearing on Wednesday, March 29, 1944 on a daily radio broadcast from London, Anne heard the Dutch Minister Bolkestein, say that after the war all diaries and letters about the war would be collected. The (b) version of the diary is Anne rewriting of her work as she stated on May 11, 1944 " You've known for a long time that my greatest wish is to become a journalist someday and later on a famous writer" In any case, I want to publish a book entitled het Achterhuis (The Secret Annex) after the war, whether I shall succeed or not, I cannot say, but my diary will be a great help. The (c) version of the diary appeared after a Dutch newspaper in April 3, 1946 (Het Parool ö The Motto) printed an article about the diary and a publisher was found. Anne Frank's diary was published in an edition of 1,500 copies in the summer of 1947.

Anne died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen in March of 1945. Of the eight people who hid in the secret annex, the only survivor was her father, Otto Frank. In the annex, there is a large black and white photograph of Mr. Frank standing in the empty space after he is free. The look on his face will haunt me forever. How cruel to survive so much only to find out that your wife and children (as well as so many other members of your family and friends) are gone. How lonely.

Even if you have never read Diary of a Young Girl, I highly recommend visiting Anne Frank Huis if you ever find yourself in Amsterdam.

That afternoon we wandered around, had a fantastic meal in a pub, and then stumbled upon the traditional Sinterklaas parade.

Now, there is something inherently fun and quirky about the Dutch. I'll be honest, however, in stating that I didn't know what to make of this highly regarded tradition. We have Santa Claus parades all over Canada every year, so the idea itself wasn't new to me - what kind of freaked me out (uber liberal that I am) was my introduction to "Black Pete." We've since learned that Black Pete is the mythical sidekick of Saint Nicholas, and he is/was a chimney sweep, which is why he is referred to as "black." The thing that kind of took me by surprise, however, was that all of the participants in the parade other than Saint Nicholas himself (who came in on a white horse, which was sweeeeeet) were in blackface.

I know it's a tradition, and my Dutch friends swear it's not meant to be offensive in any way...it just took me aback.

Something which I thought was really cool about the parade - and so very, very wonderfully Dutch - were the tulip-shaped umbrellas the kids used to catch candy and ginger cookies along the parade route. Awesome.

Following the parade we took in the fantastic Van Gogh museum (which, we all pronounce thoroughly incorrectly, our friend Hiske taught us :). It was PACKED, but well worth it - though I've never been a fan of Sunflowers, it was cool to see it in real life. (We also attended a Van Gogh exhibit in San Francisco last year - we're both fans!) It was a very full day, but we made the most of it and would love to go back!

Dresden & Berlin, Germany

En route to Berlin we stopped for lunch in Dresden, a city which was bombed off the map during the Second World War. Sadly, the bombings carried out killed mostly women and children, many of whom were refugees. The ancient part of the city has been rebuilt, and still emanates Gothic charm.

Court and I had very different feelings about Berlin. For all intents and purposes, it has been reinvented as a fun, modern city with lots to see and do. (Great shopping, excellent restaurants, crazy German discotheques...the whole nine yards.) In spite of these things, however, I just couldn't get comfortable. It felt...dark, to me. The whole time we were in Germany I felt unsettled (which I felt sad about because I have met some truly outstanding Germans in my life, and I was excited to visit their country). I've spoken to some other people who have told me Berlin had the same effect on them - next time I'll visit some other cities and hope for the best. :)

Berlin, as I'm sure you all know, has a terrible modern history. Most recently, the Berlin Wall - which still stands in certain points, and which we photographed extensively (see below) - but before that, it was the headquarters of the SS and home to the Führerbunker. 

We wanted to learn as much as possible while in Berlin, so we opted to do a Third Reich walking tour with a fantastic local guide (which turned out to be a very thorough history of not only WWII, but up to the present day). She walked us around the Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate, Brandenburg Tor, and Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (previously mentioned in one of the posts about Mauthausen). The Memorial itself is a massive series of cement tombs set in long rows. The size of the tombs vary, making you feel quite disoriented and isolated when you walk among them.

In the centre of the memorial the tombs are so tall they block everything else out.

Across from the Memorial (on a diagonal) is an nondescript parking lot of loose gravel. Below it, however, are the remnants of the Führerbunker. Talk about getting chills. Our guide told us that while all entrances have been sealed, the bunker still exists because all attempts to blow it up have failed. As she pointed out to us, doesn't that seem odd, given the technology we have at our disposal in this day and age? Someone asked her why it hasn't ever been made into a tourist attraction (whaaaaat?) and she said because the German government is terrified it would become another meeting place for Neo-Nazi youth who still live in Europe.

Not far from the bunker we visited the Topography of Terror museum "[A]t the site where the headquarters of the Secret State Police, the SS and the Reich Security Main Office were located during the “Third Reich”. The building itself no longer stands, but the outdoor exhibit includes plaques which denote where certain offices were located (some the foundation remains). Chilling.

Our last stop on the tour was the famed Checkpoint Charlie (the only civilian path between East and West Berlin during the decades of the wall). You can actually pay a small fee to get a stamp in your passport there (which we elected not to do). Where the guards used to stand there is a large portrait of the "last US solider" to leave the area after the fall of the wall in 1991. Interestingly enough, our guide pointed out that the medals and stripes on the soldiers uniform in the photo make it impossible that he was, in fact, the last one out. (I can't remember exactly how she put it, but it was something about how he would have had to have been in Germany, gone somewhere else to fight - the Gulf War, perhaps? - then returned to Germany just in time to shut down the checkpoint.)

For the rest of the day we explored the city on our own. One of the most significant sites we took in was the famed Bebelplatz, where we gazed down upon the rows and rows of empty bookshelves visible through a skylight-type window. 

This installation is to commemorate the Nazi book burning ceremony of May 10, 1933 in which over 20,000 books were set ablaze. "...Among those works burned were the writings of beloved nineteenth-century German Jewish poet Heinrich Heine, who wrote in his 1820-1821 play Almansor the famous admonition, “Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen": "Where they burn books, they will also ultimately burn people." United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. A bronze plaque embedded in the Bebelplatz proclaims this.

I was happy to leave Germany behind as we headed to our next stop: Amsterdam!

Prague, Czech Republic

After a tough morning at Mauthausen, it was on to to Czech Republic and beautiful Prague!

The weather wasn't great - rainy, overcast and chilly - but the beauty of the city shone through. We did a nighttime walking tour before dining out, which was a really spectacular way to enjoy the scenery. There's something quite magical about the architecture when it's illuminated by light against the dark of night.

The following day we headed up to the Castle District - thank you, super easy metro system! - and happened to catch the changing of the guard. Afterwards we took a brief tour of St. Vitus Cathedral (which was gorgeous) before heading down the hill towards the city.

At Court's suggestion - which was a great one! - we walked across the Charles Bridge, checking out the statues and local handicrafts spread throughout. We then headed back to watch the spectacle of the Astronomical Clock play out, which was also pretty cool. "The Astronomical Clock, built in to one side of the Old Town Hall Tower, dates from the 15th century. To fully appreciate the clock's intricate construction, join the crowd in front of the tower to observe the procession of the Twelve Apostles: on the hour, every hour, a small trap door opens and Christ marches out ahead of his disciples, while the skeleton of death tolls the bell to a defiant statue of a Turk. Below the Astronomical Clock are 12 medallions with the signs of the zodiac, added by Josef Manes in 1865." Prague Experience

After Prague it was on to Berlin!

Mauthausen con't II

Even in hell, the women somehow had it worse...

"Other than four Yugoslav women whom the SS brought to Mauthausen with 46 men to be shot in April 1942, the first female prisoners in Mauthausen were two dozen women from Ravensbrück, whom the SS transferred to provide sex for favored male prisoners. The women arrived in June 1942 and lived in the first bordello established in the Nazi concentration camp system. Over the next two years, the SS brought a few hundred women to Mauthausen either to kill them or to hold them temporarily in transit before transfer to other camps." United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

If you look back to the last post you'll see a photo of the gates and barracks. As I state in the caption, the front portion of those particular barracks housed a sinister operation - the bordello mentioned above where women were systematically raped for the pleasure of the SS guards and favoured prisoners before they were killed. In some instances, women who contracted sexually transmitted diseases from forced sexual slavery were used to test experimental treatments, or studied as they got sicker and sicker.

I feel incredible anger over this particular point. The SS guards were the absolute spawn of the devil, so I can understand how they engaged in such behaviours without conscience, but the other prisoners...with everything they were going through, to think that they would show others also in hell no mercy...How could they?

Aside from the barracks, there are various external sites to the camp - I've already mentioned the quarry - which is outside the gates and down a path - but within the camp itself there are grassy areas where prisoners were kept outdoors year-round (the barracks were only built in the last few years the camp was in operation), the area where the sick were left to die, and the sites of the mass graves, now marked with plaques and religious symbols. As there were thousands of non-Jews who were murdered at Mauthausen, there are separate memorials in that section of the camp dedicated to various faith groups. 

The worst part of the visit, which I'm sure you can imagine, was going underground into the gas chamber. Because of the way the space is designed, we actually had to walk through it twice - a thoroughly horrific experience. A few days after our visit we learned that the company which provided the paint for the inside of the gas chambers at multiple camps was the same company which provided the graffiti-proof paint for the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin, a fact which - rightfully - outraged the public. (Sadly, our guide pointed out to us that you would be hard pressed to find any companies in Germany which did not, in some way, benefit from the Second World War. Awful...)

The intense sadness of the gas chamber itself and the basement corridors in general is simply indescribable. It is palpable. There were photos of some people known to have died there on the walls, as well as stories about them (which, thankfully, were not written in English - I think that would have sent me over the edge in there). When you leave the gas chamber you come to the room where the dead had their gold teeth/fillings removed before they were cremated. Death was not enough - every last thing must be stolen. Perhaps worse than the gas chamber were the ovens. The sight of them literally knocked the wind out of me then, and the memory brings tears to my eyes now. We learned that for a time, the Nazis actually notified relatives that their love ones had died and accepted a fee in return for their ashes. Of course, the ashes sent back to the loved ones were never really those of their dearly departed, if they were human at all.

The ovens at Mauthausen have become makeshift memorials decorated with offerings and prayers from all over the world.

Beyond the ovens is a room where the walls are filled with photographs and stories of those who were killed at Mauthausen. The sheer volume of photographs - which probably represent 1% of the victims, if even - is overwhelming and heartbreaking. How terrible it must have been to have suffered there, but also how terrible to have survived and to have come to know how your loved one(s) suffered...

It was not a pleasant experience, nor should it be - as much as I feel the camps should be burned to the ground so that those who died there may rest in peace, I also feel that the ones which are open to the public should remain that way. This isn't something which happened hundreds, or thousands of years ago - this happened in the era of our grandparents. We are not so far removed from these evils as we may like to believe.

Members of my family on both sides played a role in supporting the Allied Forces during the war, in Europe and in Canada. In a few weeks it will be the ten year anniversary of my Grandpa Norton's death. During the war he served honourably in Europe, doing his part to end the unfathomable cruelty of the Nazi regime.

Frank Norton Sr.

May all who suffered and served rest in peace, and may we honour their memory by ensuring such horrors never happen again.

Mauthausen con't

Some facts about Mauthausen:

1. Built in August 1938.
2. Last camp to be liberated in 1945 (by the American 11th armored division).
3. Was a "category three" camp, meaning that nearly every person sent there was murdered.
4. Thousands of prisoners worked to death in the Wiener Graben rock quarry (which included the 186-step "stairs of death.")
5. Mauthausen interned thousands more political prisoners than Jews:

"During the war, the SS incarcerated more than 10,000 Soviet prisoners of war at Mauthausen, including 3,000 held at the Mauthausen subcamp Gusen. Nationals of virtually every German-occupied country in World War II came through Mauthausen. These included, among those prisoners who were registered: more than 37,000 non-Jewish Poles, nearly 23,000 Soviet civilians, between 6,200 and 8,650 Yugoslav civilians, approximately 6,300 Italians after September 1943, and at least 4,000 Czechs, and, eventually, in 1944, 47 Allied military personnel (39 Dutchmen, 7 British soldiers and 1 U.S. soldier), all of them agents of the British Secret Operations Executive. Further, the SS transported other thousands of prisoners to Mauthausen to be murdered without ever being registered as prisoners in the camp.

 "Before May 1944, the SS incarcerated relatively few Jews at Mauthausen. The total number of Jewish prisoners at Mauthausen between 1938 and the end of February 1944 was around 2,760. Most of them were reported dead by the end of 1943. From March through December 1944, at least 13,826 Jews arrived in Mauthausen, most of them Hungarian and Polish Jews and approximately 500 of them women. The SS had deported virtually all of them from Auschwitz-Birkenau and Plaszow camps to Mauthausen. In all, the SS registered 25,271 Jews in the Mauthausen camp complex, though the actual number of Jews, including arrivals during the last week of the war when the prisoner registration process broke down, may have pushed the number as high as 29,500." United States Memorial Holocaust Museum

The estimated number of people who died at Mauthausen ranges from 95,000 to 150,000. It is believed that at least 14,000 of those killed were Jewish, including Peter van Pels, the young man who hid for years with Anne Frank and their families in the secret annex. (More on him when we talk about our visit to Amsterdam.)

While at Mauthausen, Court and I opted to take an audio tour (which was packed with information.) I can't speak for all of the camps which you can now visit, but if you want to do the audio tour and have time to walk around and be silent on your own at Mauthausen, best to allow three or so hours. 

In the video we watched on our way to Mauthausen, one of the few survivors told the story of his arrival:  Once he and his fellow prisoners had been led into the camp and the massive gates were shut, and SS guard said to them: "This is Mauthausen. The gates you have just passed through are the way in. There is only one way out - " At which point he turned to point to the smoke stack some 40 m away.

Even writing that quote turns my stomach and chills my blood. What must they have felt? Having already endured merciless indignities at the hands of madmen - some of whom were once their friends and neighbours! To have already been ripped away from family and forced into packed, stinking cattle trains with no food, water, or room to sit/lie down, not knowing where they were going or what fate awaited them.  Hoping against hope that it couldn't be as bad as the rumours said, only to be thrust into a bitter reality more horrendous than most people could dream up in their deepest, darkest nightmares. I find the depravity of it all to be soul crushing; the presence of such pure, unspeakable evil. And to know you would die a slow, excruciating death while the rest of the world went on just as it had the day before...I don't know from where anyone found the strength to carry on...

Thoughts of the rest of the world at the time the camp was open really got to me while we were at Mauthausen. The camp itself sits atop a hill in a truly beautiful area of Austria. At the time of our visit it was autumn, and on every nearby hill we could see tall trees turning brilliant shades of gold and orange. As we stood on a plateau overlooking the Wiener Graben, I couldn't help but wonder what those interned at Mauthausen must have felt when they saw those same sights. To know that they were in such pain, such horror, and yet the world kept moving on, season after season, seemingly oblivious - or worse, indifferent - to their plight. The loneliness of standing in that place, even with your back to the camp and gazing out at the beautiful landscape beyond, was palpable. 

At the time, I could not conceive of taking pictures. In hindsight, I'm glad that Court did so I could better illustrate what I'm trying to explain. 

Some of the autumnal landscape surrounding Mauthausen.

After learning about the prisoners first moments at the camp - all of their clothing and belongings stripped away, heads shaved, etc. - we began to explore the barracks. I found it hard to get a sense of what it must have been like because half of each room is emptied out so visitors can walk in. On the walls are large black and white photographs of skeletal prisoners jammed into bunks - at least two, but sometimes more - per bed, row upon row. How horribly it must have smelled, and how easily lice and other diseases would have spread in such feral conditions.

Some of the barracks are completely stripped of furniture and feature more in-depth displays on what life was like in the camp, as well as stories of particular prisoners/families. I cannot say for sure, but those barracks may never have had furniture to begin with, as I know it was certainly a practice in other camps to throw the sick into large rooms where they lay dying atop one another.

 

The gates, from the inside. On the left is the laundry; on the right, the barracks. The front portion of these barracks had a particularly sinister use, which I will delve into below.

The courtyard outside of the barracks (above), was used for grueling roll-call drills, where prisoners were made to stand at attention for hours, or even days, without food or water, in detestable weather. It was a frequent occurrence, and something the guards did for their own pleasure. The video and audio tour told stories of guards coming to haul away people who died during these exercises.

I remember studying the Holocaust in-depth as a child, both in school and on my own. I read many books on the subject, some which were first-person accounts (i.e. Anne Frank's "The Diary of a Young Girl"), while others were fictionalized accounts based on real events (i.e. Lois Lowry's "Number the Stars"). What I don't remember is learning much about the fate of the women who were interned in these camps. "The Reader" has certainly provided some insight in recent years, but there is so much more to the story which my teachers and the literature recommended to me never addressed.Specifically, I'm speaking of the Freudenabteilung (or, Joy Division). More on this in my next post.

Mauthausen Concentration Camp, Austria

This is the blog I have dreaded writing the most. Nonetheless, it is, without question, one of the most important. I hope I can do it justice.

I have not come to terms with our experience at Mauthausen - I don't think I ever will. I don't feel that I remember that day so much as I relive it. If I allow myself to think about it -which I don't often do - I feel as though I can recall every footstep, sight, smell, feeling...

As one would expect, it was horrific. Heartbreaking, disgusting, infuriating...and necessary. If you think to yourself,"I would never visit a concentration camp," I would argue that that's exactly why you should. As I said about our experience in Rwanda, this is something we have to face because humankind allowed it to happen. It is a horrible, sickening truth about what human beings are capable of, a truth so terrifying there are no words. To go and stand and learn and remember is another step in ensuring it will never happen again.

The experience of visiting a concentration camp cannot be extracted from reading books or watching documentaries. It isn't about the depth or breadth of your knowledge, or about how much you've studied over however long a period of time. It is about what you feel in the depths of your being when you stand in a gas chamber, or lay hands on an oven. It is about the full blown acknowledgement of what happened to these beautiful human beings while so many people stood by and did nothing. People like the ones we love; like the ones we are. It is a tangible glimpse at a side of humanity which many of us pretend does not exist because we don't encounter it immediately. It is an experience which imprints itself indelibly upon your soul in a way which perhaps we all need. 

In the hours it took us to travel to Mauthausen from Vienna we watched a documentary about the camp (which I'll get into in my next post). The one thing I remember more clearly than anything else about that video was a quote - found scrawled somewhere in the camp after it was liberated - which read: "If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness." Indeed.

Hungary to Austria

After leaving the House of Terror, we made our way over to the beautiful Dohany Street Synagogue, the second-largest synagogue in the entire world.We arrived right around sunset; the brilliant blue sky as a backdrop for the buildings two towers was simply magnificent - the whole building appeared to glow. This photo really doesn't do it justice, but it gives you a faint idea:

On our bus tour we learned of an ancient decree which directs the Jewish people to build a school if there is only enough money to build one building and both a synagogue and school are needed. (This is because a school may be used for worship.) Something about that statement really resonated with me - this deep reverence for knowledge and education...it means something.

We really enjoyed our time in Budapest - the weather was perfect, which made it ideal to wander the streets by foot and explore both sides of the Danube by bus and on foot.

Our next stop was Austria! Before heading into Vienna, we first ventured to beautiful Schönbrunn Palace. As with the previous few days, the weather was perfect (if not chilly). The gardens surrounding the Palace were fantastic - beautiful trees, arbours, fountains and statues. The city of Vienna itself was wonderful. Upon arrival we did a short bus tour which pointed out the sights and gave some background. Afterwards, we spent a an hour or so wandering the streets before we opted to head into the Leopold Museum (which is, in my opinion, the most interesting museum I have ever visited). The draw for me was Gustav Klimt - one of my favourite artists - but upon exploration of the Leopold Museum, I found that I was even more enraptured by the works of Klimt's protégé, Egon Schiele. There is something incredibly haunting and honest about his work...it's just brilliant. As luck would have it, in addition to the permanent collection, the Leopold was also showcasing an exhibit on Schiele entitled "Melancholy and Provocation." If you're interested in seeing it -which I highly recommend - you have to get to the Leopold before January 30, 2012.

After the museum we spent a few more hours wandering around, admiring the architecture. In the evening, we went out for a lovely dinner and took in a show which included - what else? - classical music, ballet, traditional dance, and opera. It was fantastic! It is such a shame that our time in Vienna was so short - it's a fantastic city with so much to offer. We would love to go back!


It's hard to believe that after a magical day in Vienna our next stop would be one of the worst imaginable. En route to Prague the following day, we stopped for several hours at one of the deadliest concentration camps of the Second World War: Mauthausen.

Hungary con't

Hungary has a tragic modern history. Though miraculously unoccupied by German forces until March 19, 1944, it took the Nazis little time to absolutely decimate Hungary's Jewish population.

"In April 1944, Hungarian authorities ordered Hungarian Jews living outside Budapest (roughly 500,000) to concentrate in certain cities, usually regional government seats. Hungarian gendarmes were sent into the rural regions to round up the Jews and dispatch them to the cities. The urban areas in which the Jews were forced to concentrate were enclosed and referred to as ghettos. Sometimes the ghettos encompassed the area of a former Jewish neighborhood. In other cases the ghetto was merely a single building, such as a factory.

"In some Hungarian cities, Jews were compelled to live outdoors, without shelter or sanitary facilities. Food and water supplies were dangerously inadequate; medical care was virtually non-existent. Hungarian authorities forbade the Jews from leaving the ghettos and police guarded the perimeters of the enclosures. Individual gendarmes often tortured Jews and extorted personal valuables from them. None of these ghettos existed for more than a few weeks and many were liquidated within days.

"In mid-May 1944, the Hungarian authorities, in coordination with the German Security Police, began to systematically deport the Hungarian Jews. SS Colonel Adolf Eichmann was chief of the team of "deportation experts" that worked with the Hungarian authorities. The Hungarian police carried out the roundups and forced the Jews onto the deportation trains. In less than two months, nearly 440,000 Jews were deported from Hungary in more than 145 trains. Most were deported to Auschwitz, but thousands were also sent to the border with Austria to be deployed at digging fortification trenches. By the end of July 1944, the only Jewish community left in Hungary was that of Budapest, the capital.

"Of approximately 825,000 Jews living in Hungary in 1941, about 63,000 died or were killed prior to the German occupation of March 1944. Under German occupation, just over 500,000 died from maltreatment or were murdered. Some 255,000 Jews, less than one-third of those who had resided within enlarged Hungary in March 1944, survived the Holocaust. About 190,000 of these were residents of Hungary in its 1920 borders." (From the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website.)

By early April 1945, the Nazis were cast out of Hungary by Soviet forces. Here's a timeline from the BBC regarding Soviet rule:

1945 - Soviet forces drive the Germans out of Hungary by early April. Large parts of Budapest are reduced to rubble by the fighting. New Hungarian government introduces land reform bill, redistributing land from large estate owners to peasants.

1947-48 - Communists consolidate power. Hungary aligns itself more and more with the Soviet Union.

1949 - A new constitution makes Hungary a workers' and peasants' state. Industry is nationalised, agriculture collectivised and a wave of police terror launched.

1956 uprising

1956 - National uprising. Protesters demand the withdrawal of Soviet troops. Imre Nagy becomes prime minister. Nagy announces plans for Hungary to withdraw from the Warsaw Pact and become a neutral power. Soviet forces crush the rebels, thousands are killed. Nagy takes refuge in the Yugoslav embassy, from where he is abducted by Soviet agents. Janos Kadar becomes head of government.

1958 - Announcement is made that Imre Nagy has been executed for high treason.

1960s - Kadar gradually introduces limited liberalising reforms. Political prisoners and church leaders are freed, farmers and industrial workers given increased rights.

1968 - New Economic Mechanism brings elements of the market to Hungarian socialism.

Spearheading change

1988 - Kadar is replaced by Karoly Grosz. Opposition groups form the Hungarian Democratic Forum.


1989 - May - Border with Austria is opened, the 'Iron Curtain' is breached. Thousands of East Germans escape to the West. Communist state in Hungary is dismantled and a transition to a multi-party democracy starts.

1990 - Stock exchange opens in Budapest. A centre-right coalition wins elections.

1990 June - Hungary withdraws from any participation in Warsaw Pact military exercises.

1991 - Soviet forces withdraw from Hungary. The Warsaw Pact is dissolved. 

The House of Terror Museum was chilling, but essential in understanding Hungary's history in the modern age. We spent more than two hours wandering around looking at exhibits. (There are English translation handouts available in each room, as well as subtitled interviews throughout the building.) If you ever have an opportunity to visit Budapest, it's a must see.

Hungary

After 10 days apart, we were more than ready to meet up again and head out on our next adventure. As luck would have it, we didn't have to wait long! Less than 24 hours after I arrived back in Saltaire from Dublin, we departed for Hungary!

Budapest is actually two cities - Buda and Pest - which are separated by the Danube. Buda is very hilly, whilst Pest - where we stayed - is totally flat. For our first night we stayed in a really cool hostel - Aventura Boutique Hostel - where we slept in the "African" dorm. So cool!! If you're looking for a great place to stay in Budapest, we recommend it! Our first night we wandered around the streets (after taking the train into town from the airport), took a stroll along the Danube - which looked really beautiful with the House of Parliament lit up on one side, and the Buda Castle Palace on the other. Majestic! :)

Finding appropriate vegetarian food in Hungary wasn't the easiest thing in the world - though it probably would have helped if we spoke even two words of Hungarian, naturally. Nonetheless, we found a great street cafe for breakfast - complete with blankets and pillows at their outdoor tables - before we really got into exploring the city. We walked around for quite a while, but as I had hurt my feet pretty badly my last day in Ireland, Court took pity on me and we decided to do a guided city tour. In hindsight, this was an excellent call - as previously mentioned, Budapest is two cities in one, so there is a lot of ground to cover. Additionally, the tour provided information about important monuments/locations which we would not have learned otherwise (given that we only had three days). The city tour also helped us to better understand the layout of the area and make a gameplan for things we wanted to see the next day - thank YOU, 48-hour hop on, hop off tickets!

That evening we moved from our hostel to a hotel, as we were joining a super discounted Top Deck tour. (We booked the tour while we were in Loch Ness because we knew our time was winding down and we wanted to do some more exploring before heading home for the holidays. This tour was perfect because on top of its super-low price tag, it went to places neither of us had been before - hooray! - and was heavy on history and culture. The only downside was that we were joining a group that had already been travelling together for 3+ weeks. And let me tell you...some of them were not exactly welcoming...)

On our third day in Budapest we hopped back on the bus and headed over to Heroes' Square. Directly behind it is Vajdahunyad Castle, a beautiful area with gorgeous grounds - the perfect place for a wander on a sunny autumn day. Our goal was to take some photos - which we did in spades - before making our way down the street to the famed House of Terror. More on that in a little bit...

Republic of Ireland II: Drumcliffe, Knock, Cliffs of Moher, Killarney National Park, Blarney Castle (Cork), and Dublin

After leaving Northern Ireland, we stopped to visit the grave of William Butler Yeats in Drumcliffe. (Yeats was one of my favourite poets when I was growing up. Yes, I was a kid who had favourite poets.)


He wishes for the cloths of heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

We also visited Knock, a small town made famous in 1879 when apparitions of the Blessed Virgin, St Joseph and St John the Evangelist appeared before 15 people. The site has since become a major attraction (with more than 1.5 million visitors per year), and was visited by Pope John Paul II and Mother Teresa. When we arrived it was pouring rain, but there were still a good number of people wandering the grounds, participating in an indoor mass, and filling massive bottles with holy water. (That was a little excessive. Seriously, peeps - a small bottle is plenty.) 

Perhaps my favourite experience in Ireland was visiting the gorgeous Cliffs of Moher. When we arrived, the Cliffs were bathed in mist from the Atlantic; as we walked around, however, the mist lifted and the sun came out, creating a truly spectacular viewing experience (which my camera simply does not do justice).

The Cliffs of Moher rise as high as 214 m above the Atlantic Ocean and stretch out over 8 km.

Before I went to Ireland, a lot of people suggested that I visit the Giant's Causeway, but few suggested the Cliffs of Moher. Having now been to both, my vote is for the Cliffs, all the way! If you find yourself in Ireland with only enough time to visit one, you will not be disappointed with this incredible experience.  

A close second to the Cliffs of Moher was exploring Killarney National Park by horse-drawn carriage. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect autumn morning - crisp and clear, with heavy dew on the grass and mist over the lakes. Because it was November 1, many of the trees were already turning brilliant shades of yellow, orange and red against a deep blue sky and rich emerald fields. Killarney National Park is the oldest in Ireland, and covers more than 25,000 acres. Truly fantastic.

From Killarney we took in the Ring of Kerry and the Dingle Peninsula before making our way to Cork to visit Blarney Castle. (When you look at a map of Ireland, the order in which we did certain things is kind of confusing, but it was all about weather and accommodations. :) It was...POURING RAIN (can you believe it?!) when we got to Blarney Castle, but it was worth it to kiss the Blarney Stone. For those of you who are unsure of exactly what that entails - and why people do it - allow me to elaborate. The Blarney Stone is not - as most people imagine - a piece of rock you can simply walk up to and kiss. It's actually high atop the castle, outside - you have to climb up incredibly narrow staircases (which take you inside and outside the castle) in order to reach the top, and then the fun really begins. In order to kiss the stone, you have to lie down on your back with your hands over your head so they can grasp two metal bars and help you lower your head into the correct position. Thankfully, a castle attendant scoots you forward so that your head hangs down far enough for you to reach the stone with your lips. It's kind of crazy, especially when it's raining so hard you can't see, but the whole thing takes less than a minute. So, why is it so important? One of the legends surrounding the Stone is that anyone who kisses it will be bestowed with silver tongued eloquence for a period of seven years. Here's hoping!

From the Castle it was back to Dublin to finish our tour. Our final stop was at a place with is very close to my family's heart - the Guinness Storehouse. Arthur Guinness was much more than a brilliant brew master - he was also a visionary who wanted his family legacy to endure for generations to come. As such, he signed a 9,000 year lease which is actually on display in the floor of the atrium. Pretty cool. The Storehouse itself is incredibly interesting - it walks you through the brewing process, and gives great insight into how the beer is transported and advertised. The best part, however, is the free half-pint early on, and the free pint when you reach the Gravity Bar (which boasts 360 degree views of Dublin). All in all, a great experience.

I had dreamed of visiting Ireland my whole life, and I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to go and cover so much ground. I've heard from a lot of people who visit Ireland that they really haven't gone beyond Dublin and I think that's such a shame! Dublin is a really cool city with lots to see and do, but Ireland as a whole is so much more than that. If you ever do decide to visit, you definitely won't be disappointed if you get out of the city and really explore.

Northern Ireland II: Giant's Causeway, Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge and Belfast

The weather as we left Derry was cold, windy and rainy - not a great combination for the stops we had planned before Belfast.

Our first stop was at the famed Giant's Causeway, a beautiful spot formed by volcanic magma millions of years ago. (For information on the legends of the Causeway - involving Ireland's Finn McCool and Scotland's Benandonner - please click here.) The area was gorgeous, in spite of the incredible wind and bouts of rain. We enjoyed a few hours of hiking around, taking in the views.

 
In the afternoon - when the rain had REALLY picked up - we made our way to the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge (which sounds a lot scarier than it actually is, trust me). 

At long last we arrived in Belfast, one of the most talked about cities in Ireland's modern history. The flashpoint for the Troubles, Falls Road is a Republican/Catholic neighbourhood, whilst Shankill Road is Loyalist/Protestant. While there, we were fortunate to take part in a Black Taxi tour of both neighbourhoods, and to hear first-hand accounts of life in Belfast from two local drivers.

One of the major differences between Derry and Belfast is that there's no natural divide (like the River Foyle) to separate the Republican/Catholics and Loyalist/Protestants in Belfast. Instead, there are "peace lines" - massive barriers (topped at some points with barbed wire) with gates that lock at sundown. (It is still possible to reach the other neighbourhood once the gates are locked, you just have to go back through the centre of town to do so.) Erected at the end of the 1960s, the barriers have not only been maintained, but built upon. The houses along Falls Road which back onto the peace lines are fitted with aluminum extension roofs which slope back towards the barrier. (See below.) Our guide told us that this is to prevent the houses from catching fire if a Molotov cocktails is thrown over the top.

Houses in the Falls Road section of Belfast which back onto the peace line.

One of the gates locked after sundown each night.

As in Derry, Belfast is decorated with political murals outlining each side's struggle for what they believe to be justice. These murals include painted portraits of so-called martyrs. On the Falls Road side, one of the murals we visited is dedicated to Bobby Sands, an IRA volunteer who - along with 9 other members of the IRA - died in prison after undertaking a hunger strike in 1981. (For more information on those events, click here.)

This mural is located a short distance from the current headquarters of Sinn Fein (housed in a building which is bulletproof and bomb proof). Something which was interesting about our tour - when we were in the Falls Road area, the elder of the two taxi drivers took us aside to explain life in the neighbourhood, as well as the history. When we crossed over into the Shankill, the younger driver took over. During both conversations, the other driver stood out of earshot. We were later told by our driver that each man says his piece in his own neighbourhood, and in order to keep the peace between them, they stand far enough away so as not to hear what the other says. More on this relationship later.

As you can see in the photo of the peace lines above, the Republican/Catholic side of the wall is simply painted aluminum. On the other side, however, there are brightly coloured paintings and messages. Further back into the Shankill, political murals are painted onto the sides of houses in tightly-packed residential neighbourhoods. The most chilling of which - in my opinion - is this one:

Notice that I've taken these photos from two different locations. The first was from quite a distance, off to the left, while the second was head-on. Despite this, however, you'll notice that the barrel of the sniper's gun is pointed directly at me, no matter where I stand to photograph it. I walked all around this area, and the gunman followed my every move. It made my blood run cold.

Back in our taxi, our driver explained that he is from the Shankill, and the other driver from Falls Road. We asked him what the current social climate is like in Belfast (given that the Good Friday Agreement which brought peace to Northern Ireland was signed in April 1998), and he told us that while things are peaceful on the surface, there is an incredible amount of distrust between the two sides. As an example, when the Black Taxi company has their staff Christmas party each year, they actually have to hold two separate events - the Protestant drivers go out two weeks before Christmas, and the Catholic drivers go out one week before. Imagine - these people work together day in and day out, but they do not trust or like each other because of their political/religious beliefs. Can we think of people like this in our own lives? Probably. But are they physically separated from those who feel differently than they do my a massive barrier in the centre of town?

Our driver said that he and his colleagues are fairly typical examples, but there is hope for the younger generations. Once there is no one left who remembers the horror of the Troubles, people may be able to move forward without hatred and mistrust. I hope he's right.

Before leaving Belfast I had an opportunity to tour the Titanic Quarter - yup, that would be the shipyard where the Titanic was built 100 years ago! The dry dock is still there, and I have to tell you - it's so much smaller than I've always imagined! Compared to the massive cruise ships of today, Titanic was a wee baby. Still, it was pretty cool to be where it all began...

Northern Ireland I: Omagh & Derry

Our first stop in Northern Ireland was the tiny village of Omagh. On August 15, 1998 a car bomb planted by the new incarnation of the IRA exploded there, killing 29 people (including a woman pregnant with twins and 9 children) and wounding hundreds of others. In the middle of the busy main street where the bomb went off is a plaque and small monument, but the real memorial is nearby in a park. For each of the victims there is a mirror perched atop a pole, constantly reflecting the sun. At the base of the poles is a reflection pool, and along one side is a stone monument with each victim's name, age, and hometown, along with an explanation and some thoughtful quotes. It's a really moving memorial for such a horrible tragedy. Sadly, it was not the first we would see.

We spent our first night in Northern Ireland in Derry (often referred to by Loyalists and Protestants as Londonderry; on many roadsigns the London part of Londonderry has been painted over or crossed out). Shortly after arriving at our hostel, we took a walking tour of the city with a local guide. Derry is split in half by the River Foyle, and at this stage the river provides a boundary between Catholic and Protestant communities. When looking down from the (well intact) remains of the old city walls, you get a very real idea of where people stand:

(Throughout my travels in Northern Ireland I came face-to-face with graphic murals dedicated to the ongoing struggles of each side, as well as their so-called martyrs. They are a shocking reminder of the incredible violence endured here for decades, and not very long ago.)

Though things are currently peaceful in Derry, there is lingering mistrust and resentment on behalf of those who bore witness to the preferential treatment given to one group over the other. (More on that when I talk about Belfast.)

Now, I'm sure it has occurred to at least one person reading this that there MUST be people in Ireland who are neither Catholic or Protestant, right? To answer your question, allow me to share a joke I was told while in Derry.

A young kid from North America visits Derry on his summer holidays and goes outside to look for some other kids to play with. After wandering around for a few minutes, some of the local kids pick up on the presence of someone new and wander over.

After exchanging names, one of the local kids immediately asks "the" question: "Are you a Catholic, or a Protestant?"

The visiting kid is taken aback by this question and stammers, "I-I'm a Jew!"

The local kids look at each other in complete puzzlement. Finally, the kid who asked the question smiles, nods and says, "Ok...but are you a Catholic Jew, or a Protestant Jew?"

And so it goes...

A brief history of Ireland (Part III)

Ever start something and then somewhere down the line think, "Dude - this is taking wayyyyy more time and effort than I feel like putting in right now," but it's too late because you've already started? That's how I'm feeling about these historical posts.

OK, let's see if we can wrap this is up rather quickly so we can get back to the good stuff.

Following the Easter Rising, thousands of people were arrested for their involvement. In some cases they were deported to England and imprisoned there, but 15 individuals thought to be responsible for organising the Rising were executed in the first two weeks of May. Eamon de Valera was one of the insurgents scheduled to be executed, but avoided the firing squad because he was actually born in America (and England didn't want to get into any trouble for executing an American citizen).

After the Rising, deportations and executions, average Irish citizens were more open to the idea of using force to defeat the English on home soil. This led to the nomination of Sinn Fein (which would become the political wing of the Irish Republican Army). In 1919, the IRA declared war on the English; the conflict lasted two years before a ceasefire was called in 1921.  In December of that year the Anglo-Irish Treaty was established, which created the Irish Free State (now known at the Republic of Ireland). While the majority of Ireland was now free of English control, six counties in the north remained under control of the crown. (You may have noticed that in these recent posts I have used "England" and "English" rather than Britain/British - this is because Scotland is considered a part of Britain, and as they had their own hardships with the English, I think it's important to differentiate between the English and the rest of the lands under their control.) Michael Collins was one of the driving force behind the independence movement, whilst Eamon de Valera was another. Collins was killed in 1922 - some blame de Valera for this and feel it was a conspiracy - and de Valera became the head of the Irish government (and later, the president...which is pretty much the sweetest catering manager job in the world, no joke).

Again, this is an incredibly over-simplified version of events, but you get the point.

So, now we have the Irish Free State and Northern Ireland. From here, Ireland's history is far from peaceful. You've probably heard about the so-called Troubles between Irish Catholics and Protestants, but the conflict is much deeper than that. The issue is really about Republicans v. Loyalists. The Catholic majority resides largely in the Republic; given how unfairly they were treated under the English, they are strongly associated with the struggle for independence. The Church of England is Protestant; ergo, Protestants are associated with supporting the English monarchy (which, to some people, also means that they are oppressors). Though there are Protestants throughout the country, they form a majority north. Sadly, after the separation of the Republic, Catholics in the north continued to be subject to rules and laws set up to favour their Protestant neighbours. For more information about the Troubles, please here.  

There's your background! As I talk about the places I visited on this portion of the tour I'll get more into recent events.

A brief history of Ireland (Part II)

At the beginning of the 20th century, a group of rebels/revolutionaries decided it was time for Ireland to cast off the brutality of English rule. In 1916 - midway through the First World War - an arms deal was brokered with Germany, and  Easter Sunday (April 23) was set as the date of assault on the occupying troops. During this time, a Proclamation was drafted by the Irish Republican Brotherhood Military Council which stated that Ireland was a free republic with the members of the Council serving as a provisional government.

Catastrophically, the English intercepted the arms just days before the assault was to begin, which meant that the scale of the attack had to be reduced - as such, it was decided that all efforts should be focused in and around Dublin. (At the same time, there was also a lot of confusion as to whether the attack would take place on Easter Sunday or Easter Monday.) Around midday on Easter Monday, around 1,000 rebels were able to take over a string of strategically placed buildings with little to no problem. Of these buildings, the most famous would become the General Post Office. In the early days, the English troops were outnumbered 2:1, but by the end of the week they had managed to cobble together some 18-20,000 troops to battle less than 2,000 rebels. In the end, there was no choice for the rebels save unconditional surrender.

In the next post I'll talk about the aftermath of the Easter Rising and the subsequent War of Independence, which led to the separation of the Irish Republic and Northern Ireland.

A brief history of Ireland (Part I)

After leaving Dublin, we meandered north by way of four fascinating stops - Drogheda, birthplace of Pierce Brosnan and home to the head of St Oliver Plunkett; the ancient temple Newgrange (which pre-dates the Great Pyramid and Stonehenge); Slane Castle, one of the best concert venues in the world; and the Hill of Slane, where it is rumoured that Saint Patrick lit the Easter fire in 433 A.D. Not a bad morning by any stretch of the imagination. As with the previous three days in Dublin, we were blessed with truly exceptional weather.

Not so long ago - in the time of The Troubles - the Republic and Northern Ireland were separated by guarded borders, and my tour leader told us of how the military and police used technology to listen in on the conversations of those approaching the borders in their cars. He said that whenever they would travel from Dublin to Belfast to visit friends in university there, they would stop talking completely as they approached the border. It wasn't that they were planning anything sinister, it was just to make their own lives easier when it came time to be questioned by the border guards. So, how did things get to that point, and what happened afterwards which allowed for the official border stops to be removed? I'm glad you asked! Irish history is something which has interested me for a long time - much more so than the history of any other country, to be honest. Here is Part I of my attempt at a crash course in Irish history:

Saint Patrick - the Patron Saint of Ireland - brought Christianity to the Emerald Isle in the 5th century.

Hundreds of years later, whilst under English rule, Catholics in Ireland find themselves singled out and punished for their faith. By subjecting Irish Catholics to different laws than their Protestant countrymen, England attempts to leave the Catholics no choice but to convert. (This practice was also in effect in Scotland.)

In the 17th century, the "Laws in Ireland for the Suppression of Popery" - usually referred to as the Penal Laws - came into effect. For a list of these statues (compiled by the University of Minnesota Law School) please click here.

So, over a period of several hundred years, the English establish a system in Ireland which elevates the Protestant minority above the Catholic majority, the latter of which has been robbed of their rights to religion, education, political assembly/influence, language, land, identity and culture. This will be important to remember later on. 

Fast forward to 1845. Even if you claim to know nothing about Ireland, you probably know something of The Great Hunger, also referred to as The Great Famine, or the potato famine, in which the potato crops in Ireland were infected by a fungal disease and subsequently failed. Between 1845 and 1852, it is estimated that Ireland lost 20-25% of its population - roughly 1 million people are said to have died of starvation/disease while approximately the same number of people emigrated to Canada, the United States, Australia, New Zealand, etc.

Many people wrongly assume that the Irish only cultivated potatoes, and that is why the famine was so destructive. For many of the poor, potatoes were the only crop they could grow on the lands they were relegated to as their rights and property were stripped away by the English; without any other means of supporting themselves or their families, they were at the mercy of their crops. That's not to say that there were no other crops in Ireland, however. So, where did all of the other food go?

To England.

Below are the lyrics to the song "Famine" by Sinead O'Connor, which provides greater insight into this period of Irish history, and its long-lasting consequences:

OK, I want to talk about Ireland
Specifically, I want to talk about the "famine"
About the fact that there never really was one
There was no "famine"
See Irish people were only allowed to eat potatoes
All of the other food
Meat, fish, vegetables
Were shipped out of the country under armed guard
To England, while the Irish people starved
And then in the middle of all this
They gave us money not to teach our children Irish
And so we lost our history
And this is what I think is still hurting me
See we're like a child that's been battered
Has to drive itself out of its head because it's frightened
Still feels all the painful feelings
But they lose contact with the memory
And this leads to massive self-destruction
alcoholism, drug addiction
All desperate attempts at running
And in its worst form
Becomes actual killing
And if there ever is gonna be healing
There has to be remembering
And then grieving
So that there then can be forgiving
There has to be knowledge and understanding
All the lonely people
where do they all come from
An American army regulation
Says you mustn't kill more than 10% of a nation
'Cos to do so causes permanent "psychological damage"
It's not permanent, but they didn't know that
Anyway, during the supposed "famine"
We lost a lot more than 10% of our nation
Through deaths on land or on ships of emigration
But what finally broke us was not starvation
but its use in the controlling of our education
Schools go on about "Black 47"
On and on about "The terrible famine"
But what they don't say is in truth
There really never was one
(Excuse me)
All the lonely people
(I'm sorry, excuse me)
Where do they all come from
(that I can tell you in one word)
All the lonely people
where do they all belong
So let's take a look, shall we
The highest statistics of child abuse in the EEC
And we say we're a Christian country
But we've lost contact with our history
See we used to worship God as a mother
We're sufferin from post traumatic stress disorder
Look at all our old men in the pubs
Look at all our young people on drugs
We used to worship God as a mother
Now look at what we're doing to each other
We've even made killers of ourselves
The most child-like, trusting people in the Universe
And this is what's wrong with us
Our history books, the parent figures lied to us
I see the Irish
As a race like a child
That got itself bashed in the face
And if there ever is gonna be healing
There has to be remembering
And then grieving
So that there then can be forgiving
There has to be knowledge and understanding
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from
All the lonely people
Where do they all come from

Understandably, the incredible suffering of the Irish during this period further escalated the intense desire of the poor majority to drive the English from Ireland's shores. Sadly - as I'll discuss in my next few posts - this was not to be an easy feat.

Republic of Ireland I: Dublin, Wicklow & Kilkenny

After leaving Glasgow, I flew into Dublin whilst Court caught the train back to Saltaire. Sadly, I arrived the day after flooding in the city caused the untimely deaths of two individuals. :( The strange thing was, you would never have guessed that they had received so much rain the previous day - the streets were completely dry, and the sun was shining! So strange...

I had plans in the evening to meet up with my friend Marianne, a lifelong Dublin resident whom I met in Australia in 2010. Since I had time to kill, I found myself scoping out the shores of the River Liffey and wandering around Temple Bar. When it started to get dark(ish) and I still had a considerable amount of time on my hands, I decided to go to the movies for the first time in 5 months. (For those of you who haven't seen We Need To Talk About Kevin, it's definitely worth a look.) I have to say, movies feel like a luxury when you're on the road non-stop - they can be a nice way to relax and get some energy back.

In the evening, Marianne and I went to Oliver St. John Gogarty in Temple Bar to check out the live music - it was fantastic! We saw two groups playing traditional music, broken up by a pair of Irish dancers - very entertaining. And I will say that the rumours about Guinness in Ireland are true - it does taste better in the country where it's brewed! I generally find Guinness too dark/heavy in other parts of the world, but I quite enjoyed it in Ireland, particularly in Dublin! More on that later...

The following morning I got up early to go on a day tour organised by my hostel which took in Wicklow and Kilkenny. As luck would have it, it was another beautiful sunny day - perfect for exploring. Wicklow is very beautiful - we were in a valley surrounded by high hills with trees turning every autumn colour you can imagine. The contrast between the changing leaves, emerald green pastures and clouds of mist hanging over the lakes was truly breathtaking.

After departing Wicklow we headed to Brownshill Portal Tomb (which was cool), and finally on to Kilkenny. Though I genuinely enjoyed getting to walk around the city itself, the best part of the tour for me was simply driving through the countryside. Ireland really is as beautiful as you've imagined!

The next day I went on a free 3.5 hour walking tour of Dublin operated by New Europe (http://www.neweuropetours.eu/). As with the ghost tour we did in Edinburgh, these guides work for tips only, meaning that they really work hard to impress their clients. To say I was impressed by my guide – Dave – is an understatement. As with the guides we encountered in Scotland, the love he had for his country was palpable. I really enjoyed how thorough he was in explaining the history. (I actually think I am a better student of Irish history than I am of anywhere else!) On our tour we covered a lot of ground, visiting City Hall, Dublin Castle & Record Tower, Chester Beatty Library, Christ Church, Trinity College, the National Gallery, Leinster House, and St. Stephen’s Green. If you’re planning to go to Dublin – or any of the other places where New Europe tours operate – I highly recommend the experience, particularly if you have a few days in one place with no set plans. The tours give you historical background in addition to showing you the sights, and if you have another day afterwards, you can revisit places you may not have known about/considered otherwise. I’m glad that I went on the Kilkenny daytrip, but I definitely would have liked some more time in Dublin after the walking tour. I did go back to the National Gallery on my own – I wanted to see the amazing bog people! – but I never did make it in to see the Book of Kells, or into the Chester Beatty Library (which sounds really fascinating).

After my time in Dublin I embarked on a six-day “All Ireland” tour with Paddy Wagon. I wanted to see as much as humanly possible in the ten days I had, so a tour which took me right around the island was a necessity. (For those of you who are wondering if I toured the famed Guinness Factory/Storehouse, the answer is yes - the tour looped back around to Dublin, so I'll cover that once I've talked about the rest of my experiences there.)

Scotland III: Edinburgh & Glasgow

After our adventures in the highlands, we returned to Edinburgh for two days of exploration on our own. This time around we stayed in a hostel directly below the legendary Edinburgh Castle, conveniently called the Castle Rock Hostel. (Note - if you're heading to Edinburgh and you're looking for a great place to stay, we thought this hostel was fantastic. It has beautiful common rooms on the lower level, a TV lounge, massive kitchen, and great dorms and washrooms upstairs. We really, really enjoyed our stay there. On our first night in Edinburgh - back before we went up to Skye - we stayed at the Budget Backpackers on Cowgate, which was also very good. If you plan to stay at just one hostel whilst in Edinburgh, however, we definitely recommend Castle Rock due to its fantastic ambiance. But I digress...)

At 7 p.m. that evening we went to The Last Drop in Grassmarket to join a free ghost walk of the city. There are haunted tours of Edinburgh advertised everywhere, but we chose the free tour because we figured anyone working solely for tips is going to have to have their shit together. Thankfully, we were not disappointed! Free tours from The Last Drop operate 365 days a year and are FANTASTIC! Edinburgh has an incredibly rich and violent history, so it's rife with gruesome tales and legends. The meeting point itself is actually quite legendary as it used to be the place where prisoners had their last drink before heading to the gallows. Next door to The Last Drop you'll find a pub called Maggie Dickson, named after its former owner, a woman who was unsuccessfully hanged in 1724 and was thus allowed to go free. I won't give you all of the details, but I will definitely encourage you to visit Edinburgh and take the free tour. :) After the tour wrapped up we wandered around the Royal Mile, and took in the view of the castle and surrounding city at night - pretty spectacular.

The next day was cool and sunny, so we spent hours upon hours just wandering around. As previously mentioned, Edinburgh is a fantastic mix of old and new, so we found ourselves crossing back and forth between modern shops and ancient Gothic churches, cemeteries, fountains and parks. We both found it pretty incredible to browse tombstones which are older than our countries. :) In the evening we walked around the streets above Grassmarket before Court took in the local music scene and I relaxed in the hostel.

The next morning, we walked around the crazy looking parliament building and admired the majestic Holyrood Palace (through the gates, of course), before boarding the train for Glasgow.

Our trip to Glasgow was shorter than intended, as I had decided while we were in Edinburgh that I would head to Ireland for 10 days before we ventured to central Europe to wrap up our trip. Our first afternoon was rainy and cool, so we hunkered down in a pub to enjoy a Sunday roast (Court) and some football. (Real football, not that American gridiron shit. ;) In the evening we walked around a bit, but didn't really get a sense of what Glasgow had to offer - that happened the next day.

In the morning we wandered the streets, but in the afternoon we jumped on one of the red double-decker sightseeing buses to see more of the sights. We went all over the city, taking in the university, arts centre, monuments and shops. We visited the Gallery of Modern Art which was really interesting, and finished the day with laundry. Thrilling, eh? :) Glasgow is definitely a city which deserves more time and attention than we paid to it - hopefully we'll be back someday!

The next morning I flew to Dublin and Court took the train back to Ian's place in Saltaire. We spent the next ten days apart (which was tough), but it allowed me the opportunity to visit a place I had always dreamed of whilst providing Court with the time and space needed to follow up on several job applications. I hope to post pics and stories from Ireland in the next few days - thanks for your patience while we're getting caught up!