Finding Magic in Scotland

Scotland. The land of thick accents, plaid kilts and the Loch Ness Monster — the three main attractions that flitted through my thoughts on my 4 a.m. flight to Edinburgh. After four days in the land of the Scots, my three main attractions shifted drastically.

Main Attraction Number One — Magic.

Quite possibly the best realization I had while on this trip was Scotland’s connection to Harry Potter, and by default, magic. I had no idea that many of the scenes from the Harry Potter movies were filmed in Scotland or that the “Birthplace of Harry Potter” was in Edinburgh. What are the odds of my first international weekend trip being so closely related to Harry Potter? It was a dream come true!

We first went to Edinburgh Castle, which sits on top of a rocky mountain high in the sky overlooking the city below. Oh, and there’s a train station that runs just below it. It’s basically Hogwarts. As we went through the castle and saw the places where canons had once been shot off, where nobles had once sat, argued and played, and where horses once trotted along cobblestone streets. I think it’s safe to say I let my imagination run wild, and who wouldn’t in such an inspirational and magical place?

After visiting the castle, we made our way back down the intensely steep hill (one of many in Edinburgh) to a cafe called The Elephant House, which also known as “The Birthplace of Harry Potter.” Why, you may ask, has this cafe been given such a grand title? Well, this little cafe, with its walls covered in Asian art and its chairs in the shape of elephants, was the same cafe where J.K. Rowling began writing the Harry Potter series on just a napkin.

It was an amazing feeling to think that I could have been sitting right where she sat when she started the Harry Potter series. The nerd in me had a little freak out session, especially when we were seated right beside a window facing Edinburgh Castle. The view we had from our table made it look even more like Hogwarts than from any other angle. That view explained all of the inspiration for Hogwarts Castle in just a window view.

The Harry Potter attractions and references didn’t end in the coffee shop though. Oh no, they continued everywhere we went in Scotland. The three girls I traveled with and myself booked a Highlands tour for the Saturday and Sunday that we were there, and the magic just seemed to ooze from the countryside as we drove around Scotland. The views were absolutely breathtaking and our tour guide, Craig, was a hoot. He even had a “wand” that he carried around when we would stop at different places. He explained to us how he was indeed magical because it would rain most of the time we were traveling, but whenever we would stop, the sun would come out and the wind would stop, if only momentarily. He told us that he controlled the weather with his “wand” and I believed him.

Craig was great, full of stories and jokes, and he was all about the magic, so when we had some extra time left on the first day of our tour, he decided to throw in a surprise visit to a very magical place. He took us to the Harry Potter Train Bridge where the Hogwarts Express actually drove over the tracks and where they filmed the movies for a few months out of the year. It was amazing and I recognized the place instantly from the movies. Craig even waved his wand toward the stone bridge just for the fun of it and when he did, no joke, a train popped through the tunnel and made its way across the tracks. It was magical.

Once we arrived at our hostel that night, we decided to play Monopoly, but being in Scotland, it was a little different than the Monopoly we grew up with. The names were all different and very British and the pieces were a little off, but the best difference was the fact that one of the railroads was Kings Cross, where platform 9 and 3/4 is in Harry Potter. I was beside myself and had to buy it, no matter what the cost was.

Main Attraction Number Two — Movie Sets and Castles

On our tour, we had the chance to visit a number of castles including the castle where scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail were filmed and scenery where Skyfall was filmed. All of this on top of seeing where some of the scenes from the Harry Potter movies were filmed added up to a wonderful cinematic atmosphere.

We also visited Dunne Castle, which is one of the few living castles still in existence. What makes it a living castle? Well, the family who owns the castle and has owned it for a very long time, still lives in the castle. As we walked through it, there were portraits of older family members, then large paintings, old black and white photographs, Polaroids, and finally, normal, modern printed photographs of the family who currently lives in the castle. The parts of the castle that are open for visitors were well preserved to fit their ancient background, but it was so cool to imagine growing up there as a child in modern day. It would be like living in a fairytale, especially considering the fact that this particular castle was situated on a Loch and was surrounded by absolutely stunning mountains.

As we drove through the countryside on the tour, Craig began to tell us stories of battles that took place in the hills we passed and warriors who gave their lives for their homeland. One such story was connected to William Wallace, the protagonist in the movie Braveheart. He told us the real story of William Wallace, how the royals of the time had burned down his house in retaliation to Wallace’s defiance. The soldiers didn’t realize that his wife was inside the house at the time.

Wallace took out his revenge by finding the nobleman who looked after his village and murdered him. The people in surrounding villages heard of this and joined Wallace in a raid against all noblemen in the country, attacking and murdering them one by one. Not too long after, Wallace was captured and the rebellion ceased. Wallace was tortured and given the most drawn out death imaginable.

Craig also told us the story of where the name “Braveheart” comes from. It has nothing to do with William Wallace at all. It is instead associated with a different warrior. The story goes that on his death bed, all this warrior wanted was to go on a pilgrimage, so he asked his best mate to cut out his heart, place it in a tiny silver coffin to hang around his neck, and take his heart on a pilgrimage.

The best mate obliged and carried his heart across the land until he was met with an opposing tribe. The best mate took off the coffin with the heart tucked inside, swung it around his head and into the battlefield and said to his men, “Follow the brave heart into battle!” This coffin necklace was discovered around the 19th century and is now on display in a museum in the U.K. Craig told us that human remains were found in this tiny coffin dating back to the time of this warrior, so they believe it to be the same “brave heart.”

Main Attraction Number Three — A Writer’s Dream

We continued our journey through the highlands, taking in the most gorgeous mountain views. There was inspiration all around us as we walked and climbed around the highland sites. Before arriving in Scotland, I was expecting it to be the same as Ireland, but it was so unique, so different than the Irish countryside I had grown used to in the past two months.

We even stopped at an overlook spot where there were hundreds of rock stacks situated to overlook the mountains and the loch below, so many that it was hard to walk without knocking one over. It reminded me so much of a friend of mine’s dad who used to make those same rock stacks in the Swannanoa River behind her house when we were little.

Those sights combined with the old feel of Edinburgh and our hostel that was once a church made Scotland an inspiration playground, a writer’s dream. Our hostel had such a cool atmosphere and the way it was set up was amazing. There were rooms set up throughout the main part of the old church and in each room there was a skylight, so you could see the top of the church from your room. It was magical.

And, on our last day in Scotland, I had the chance to visit the Writer’s Museum. It was amazing to see all of the Scottish writers and their works on display in such a cool location. It was especially cool to see the old printing press used to publish works such as Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island.

Scotland was a magical place, and I can’t wait to go back sometime in the near future.

Edinburgh Castle









The Elephant House





The Hogwarts Express Bridge




Scenery from the Bridge


Kings Cross Monopoly


The Monty Python Castle



Skyfall Exhibit


Dunne Castle







William Wallace Statue





The Amazing Views









The Rock Stacks




The Old Feel of Edinburgh






The Church Turned Hostel



Loch Ness



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Photos from Kinsale













Charles Fort





















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I Go To Hogwarts

When I was choosing where I wanted to study abroad, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for Hogwarts. I wanted to travel to a far off land to a school nestled in the green countryside, surrounded by water where I could row into campus on a boat my first day, and most importantly, it had to be a castle. And when I found a university that fit all of those criteria, how could I pass it up?

So, I chose to study abroad at University College Cork where sitting on the quad is the West Wing, otherwise known as the castle where classes are held, where the River Lee flows through campus and the occasional currach (traditional Irish boat) will be rowed through campus, and where there is lush green scenery every way you look. I found my Hogwarts.

After over a month of living in Ireland and going to classes at UCC, the idea that UCC is Hogwarts has only been further and further confirmed. There are the little things like everyone having either a British or Irish accent, and during my Early Start program, which was deep rooted in the folklore of Ireland, I had an Irish professor who taught us about fairies and leprechauns, witches, legends and tales of the unknown. I think it’s safe to say that during my first month at UCC I learned about magic.

There’s also the unmistakable Peugeot car that seems to crop up everywhere in Cork, and it’s almost always red. The symbol for this car is a lion on a red background, a.k.a. Gryffindor. And you can’t deny that Cork’s colors are red and white with the occasional yellow accent thrown in and the lion appears in the UCC crest. So I think it’s fair to say that Cork is Gryffindor.

Also, I can’t help but make the connection between hurling and quidditch. Both games are fast-paced and dangerous and they both fight for a shiny silver cup. Hurling, in my mind, is a blend of all of the quidditch positions, just on the ground, not in the air. In hurling, each player has their hurling bat like a beater’s bat, they use the bat to hit the ball like a baseball to score points like beaters would do with the bludger, they also pick up the ball and run with it in their hand and catch it in their hand like a chaser would with the quaffle, and of course the keeper is the same as the goalie. The only thing missing from hurling is the snitch.

Then there are the things in the city that are just too similar. Little things like the word “trolly” instead of shopping cart are of course part of the Harry Potter/European atmosphere, but it’s the larger things that really prove that I go to Hogwarts. One such thing is finding out that Treacle Tart actually exists in real life. My flatmate and I found a box at Dealz in the city and we had to get them. They taste absolutely delicious and made me feel more and more like I was in Harry Potter.

Another connection is the English Market — it’s a miniature Diagon Alley. Sure, the English Market only sells food and wine unlike Diagon Alley, but the entrance to the English Market is where I make the connection. The entrance is through a brick walkway that is closed off by a black iron gate when it closes. And, of course, it’s surrounded by pubs, any one of which could lead to the real Diagon Alley.

The largest connections I’ve made have been at UCC. The other day as I was walking to class I noticed about 10 children walking through campus with what looked like a teacher. They were all dressed in long black robes and each robe had a different crest sewn into it. They all were talking excitedly to each other in their thick Irish accents and looking around at the campus in awe, especially when they reached the West Wing, or the castle on the quad. This is where they stopped and stood in a line, while one by one they were called up by their teacher and given a piece of paper to which the rest of the kids clapped and cheered. I think some lucky 11-year-olds just received their Hogwarts letters.

And then there’s the inside of West Wing. It’s drafty, it’s stone, it has a dungeon, the door to each classroom is made like a castle door, but most importantly, there are dementors in the castle. They’re situated at the end of the long hallway with a dull yellow light shining on them. I swear, seeing them on my way to class makes my blood run cold every time I pass them. Although, this may have something to do with the fact that they stand right next to the door that leads outside, causing a nasty draft.

All in all, I go to Hogwarts, a school filled with common rooms, dementors, and of course, magic.

West Wing


River Lee Flowing Through Campus



Peugeot Car Logo


UCC Crest





Treacle Tart


Eating Treacle Tart in My Ravenclaw Scarf and Cork Shirt


English Market



Kids Receiving Hogwarts Letters




Dementors in West Wing


Categories: Ireland 2013 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Surviving Freshers Week

Freshers Week, the first week of classes at UCC, is a week full of frustration, long hours, colorful booths and a whole lot of yelling, chanting students with pints in their hands.

This past week I’ve had to start my college experience from scratch as a fresher just like I had to do when I first arrived at Carolina two years ago. It’s been really strange getting to know the library again, finding good study spots again, and joining clubs and societies all over again.

Thankfully, most aspects of being a UCC fresher are not all that different from being a UNC fresher, so although it felt strange going to Societies Day instead of Fall Fest, the two are nearly one in the same. I’ve known what to expect for the most part.

It’s the things that are so widely different that really throw me off guard and make me truly feel like I’m starting over my college experience as an out-of-stater or something. The first thing that’s vastly different is that there are two bars/clubs on the UCC campus, and not just on the edge of campus near the city, but right in the heart of it — The New Bar in the Student Centre and Old College Bar right beside the quad. And people go — in between classes, before class, just to grab a pint or to party. It’s a much different atmosphere than I’m used to.

Also, after every single club or society meeting the members go out to a pub or a club. It’s just so much part of the culture here that it really changes the college dynamic. And when I say they go out after every meeting, I mean every meeting. All of the society meetings I’ve gone to during the past week have all introduced their officers, and each group has an officer whose sole job is to plan going out after meetings. It’s just so different because here the legal drinking age is 18, so once you’re in college, you’re legal and college organizations can plan into that.

Drinking is just such a big part of the culture here, especially for college-aged students, and I’m not saying that it’s not that big or even bigger at U.S. colleges, but here, it’s just more accepted, more relaxed. There’s no need to sneak around or coax older students to buy the alcohol and more importantly, there’s no need to get completely wasted when you drink here because you can get alcohol whenever you want if you’re over 18. I feel like in the U.S., once people have alcohol who are under 21, feel like they have to go all out because it’s a treat that they have alcohol and they usually have to get rid of it as soon as they get it to “hide the evidence.”

To that effect, I’m not trying to say that Irish college students don’t occasionally go all out and get completely plastered. They do, especially during Freshers Week. The first week of classes is designated to getting drunk at the college bars and encouraging freshers, or first-years, to do the same, hence welcoming them to college. During classes, I could hear many chants and people yelling drunkenly as they marched through the quad to Old College Bar around 4 p.m. on a Tuesday, my professor trying to teach over their shouting but failing miserably.

There is a reason behind why all of the going out and getting drunk during Freshers Week works so well though. Registering for classes is vastly different than it is in the U.S. What I’m used to is signing up for classes about two months before classes even start, online, and having about two weeks for an add/drop period, to which you can add or drop your classes online.

Things are run much differently here. The first week of classes, Freshers Week, is a test week. Students go to different classes to test them out and see if they like them. Because the people in the classes will change all during that week and no one has committed to taking the course, no real teaching is really done that won’t be gone over again for the inevitable newcomers during the following week when real class begins. This leads to mostly just freshers going to class during the first week while the upperclassmen go out and party because they know which classes they want and they don’t need to test them out.

After we’ve decided which course we want for sure, then we have to fill out a paper registration form and go to each department in person to register for those courses and then, for me, hand in the form to the international office for final approval. Then, we have to wait about two weeks before we have access to those classes on Blackboard, where all of our class materials and readings are kept.

To me, it seems like a very complicated and outdated process, but I have to say, I really did appreciate the one week grace period because I went to a lot of different classes and found the ones I really wanted. And, I know I couldn’t have done that back home because we start learning the first day.

So, far classes have been an experience and feeling like a fresher again has made my time here feel more and more like a fairytale. Hopefully when the week of exams and final papers comes around, I will have a happy ending.

Categories: Ireland 2013 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A Day Trip to Dingle

Last weekend, my flatmate and I went on a day tour to the Dingle Penninsula. We made a few stops along the way to Inch Beach, Killarney, different places in County Kerry, Dun Chaoin, and on to Dingle. The weather was absolutely gorgeous for our trip, which made the sights look even better than we ever thought they could. It was a gorgeous day and a wonderful trip, so for this post, I think I’m going to let the photos speak for me because I can say only so much about the blueness of the ocean and the sky, about the white surf that crashed against the gray rocks, and about the warm sun that peeked through the clouds in Dingle. Enjoy!

Cork Early Morning





Inch Beach






Roadside Pit Stop










Dun Chaoin






A Famine House


More Pit Stops

















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Last Week of Folklore

Last week was our final week with Shane, our professor, and in our folklore class. No more fun field trips, no more fairies, and no more energetic and smiling professor. We can no longer use the saying “The Man, The Myth, The Legend” or the hashtag #shane4evs because we will no longer be in Shane’s wonderful folklore class.

It was a sad week to say the least and I hope that I will be able to stay in touch with the friends that I made in my class and travel with them to different countries in the near future. But before I could go into a state of reflection, I had to first think about my exam. It was a week full of studying for the final exam, which consisted of two three page essays written about liminality in folklore and also about our field trips as they relate to fairies and folklore in general.

We finished our exam around noon on Thursday, but we had to come back to class at 4 p.m. for our wrap-up. Since I had a few hours to kill, I decided to wander around City Centre just to see what I could find. This has to be one of the best decisions I’ve made since coming to Cork because in my wanderings, I found an entire street and a half with nothing but thrift shops. I went shopping for about two and a half hours and I found some of the most amazing clothes and books for really cheap prices. I ended up getting a pair of pants, a red leather jacket, two dresses, two scarves, and five books, all for under 30 euros. It was an amazing shopping day.

After I had successfully killed a few hours, I dropped off my stuff at the apartment and headed back to campus for our wrap-up session. The bulk of the time we were there, we did a slideshow of all of the pictures we had submitted for the folklore photo contest. Some were artsy, some were breathtaking, some funny, and some just great ones of the class as a whole. It was almost like watching the senior slideshow at high school graduation, only we had only known each other for a month, not our entire lives.

It was still sad to actually finalize everything and to see all the great times we all had on our field trips together. Then, came the decision of who had won the photo contest. The second runners-up each got a jar of honey from Shane’s own beehives, which we discussed in class and we all wanted some. The runners-up each received 25 euros and the winner received 50 euros. I was fortunate enough to be one of the two runners-up to receive 25 euros! It was an amazing feeling.

After we had gone through all of the photos, decided the winners and talked about our opinions of the class and of folklore, Shane began to give a little spiel about what he’s going to miss about our class. The top things he said were that we really like to jump a lot, off of banks and trees, and stones, everything, and he thought it was great that we were full of such energy. He also loved how motivated, well-behaved, and attentive we were as a class because he said he usually doesn’t get that much with American students.

He also thought it was great how competitive we all were, especially during the photo contest. On field trips, we were all clicking away, focused on getting the perfect shot that would win the 50 euros. He told us how we were all in it, wanting to win, and that he doesn’t see that in his Irish students much. He laughed and chucked it up to Ireland never winning anything and not really expecting to, while America expects to win everything. He enjoyed our hunger for competition and the fact that everyone was getting involved.

A couple of friends of mine brought candy for everyone and bought a card for Shane, which everyone in the class signed with a little message. He seemed a little choked up when we gave him the card and the candy, and we could really tell that he loved our class and we loved him as a professor.

I’m really going to miss his class, but now I’m looking to the future, ready to take on the semester full stride and hoping that all of my professors are just like Shane.

A Tribute to Shane




Goodbye Folklore Class!



Thrift Shop Finds


End Result of Us “Jumpy” Americans


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Hurling in a Cork County Bar

Hurling – usually a word associated with the aftermath of having a few too many drinks, an all together unpleasant experience to be a part of or to witness, also referred to as blowing chunks. This is the definition most used in America.

In Ireland, Hurling takes on the exact opposite meaning – a word associated with one of Ireland’s most popular sports and during a match, many drinks are still being consumed, creating an all together crazy and exciting atmosphere and experience to be had by those who are directly a part of the match as well as those who are there just to witness the amazing thrill of the fast-paced game of Hurling.

Last Sunday was the All-Ireland GAA Hurling Final and Cork was in the championship game. The opponent was County Clare, the next county over from us here in Cork, so the rivalry was alive and well at Reardens Bar where myself along with other UCC students gathered to cheer on our very own County Cork Rebels.

Before we began our search for just the right pub to watch the game, we had to study up on the team, the spirit and the sport itself, as none of us had ever heard of hurling before about a month ago. We studied up and researched and found out the following: County Cork’s team is the Rebels and their colors are red and white. County Cork and County Clare both have young teams and are rivals because they are so close to each other geographically. It’s been 16 years since the last Munster mashup, meaning the last time two teams from the same region of Munster have been in the final game. Hurling is an extremely fast-paced and physical game, which is very exciting to watch. There are two ways to score, by making a goal where the ball goes in the net and by making a point where the ball goes over the net. Three points are equal to one goal.

So, when we were looking for a pub to watch the game, we came across Reardens Bar, which was all decked out in red and white flags, a giant Rebel jersey was hanging on the side of the tall building and the inside was full of red and white balloons, stickers, wristbands, and packed with people. They even had a place in the back of the bar where there were stadium seats to watch the game blown up on a big screen, as well as a Skype feed with a bar in County Clare, so the two groups of fans could see each other’s reactions during plays. It made the experience that much cooler and crazier.

The crazy atmosphere had to be my favorite part by far. The bar was packed full of Cork fans dressed in all sorts of different red and white attire, with a few Clare fans sprinkled in. Everyone was watching the game unfold, and man, was it a great one. The entire game it was so close and everything was so intense. The score kept going back and forth, and we were all on the edge of our seats the entire game.

It finally came down to the last three minutes of the game. Cork was down by three points and Clare had the ball. We watched nervously, our eyes bulged and glued to the screen, our backs straight with anticipation, our hands clasped together with hope and our faces serious from concentration. We watched as a penalty was called on Clare and we got to take a shot only a few feet away from the goal. We watched intently as the Cork player pulled back his hurling stick and came back with full force. We were rising slowly out of our seats as the ball slipped right past the goalie and into the corner of the net, making the entire bar jump up and shake with excitement and screams of joy. We were now tied, just one point away from victory.

And not long after the goal, we scored the point and everyone at the game and in the bar was freaking out with excitement. This was it! We had won the championship! But what we didn’t know was that there were still about 30 seconds left in stoppage time, just enough time for Clare to slip past our defense and tie up the game.

Our excitement was dulled a little, but all of us American students were ready for overtime, but overtime never came. Evidently if in the Hurling Championship, the two teams tie, they have to play the match all over again in two weeks time. No overtime, no points or reward for playing the first game. It all comes down to the game on September 28. Look out County Clare, the Rebels are coming for you.

Let’s Go Rebels!! At Reardens








Hurling Sticks




Finding Fellow North Carolinians


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Follow the River Lee

Last Saturday, my folklore class went on a field trip to Gougane Barra, a small town in the mountains of West Cork surrounded by water and stories. We started our journey in Cork City Centre beside the River Lee and we followed the river, winding through narrow roads and across rock bridges, to its source at Gougane Barra, where the water runs from the mountain tops into the river base and flows all the way through Cork city.

We made a few stops along the way to hear about the folklore and history associated with the structures we visited and also to really take in and understand the beauty and the magic that surrounds the River Lee. During most of this trip, we experienced a lot of rain and wind, making this field trip the coldest we’ve been on yet. But, the wind, rain and clouds only added to the mystery and magical nature of the river. It made everything misty and it also made everything sparkle and shine. It also gave us a much better perspective, while visiting the areas we went to, about the living conditions people faced.

The first stop we made was to the ruins of Carrigadrohid castle which was built in the 1500s. It was situated literally in the River Lee with a bridge running along side it. As we explored the castle and the surrounding area in the rain and the blistering wind, I could definitely imagine myself back in the 1500s when this castle was in its prime, trying to make food and collect fresh water by standing in the rain with a bucket to catch the rain water. The weather definitely expanded my imagination for the rest of our trip.

It was while we were at this castle that our professor told us more about the legend of the leprechaun. Evidently, leprechauns are meant to be small beings that would run around and cause mischief wherever they went and they were extremely fast. The legend goes that if anyone is to catch a leprechaun, then they should be granted three wishes.

But sadly, every folklore story seems to stem from an ugly truth. In reality, the idea of leprechauns came from people who were born smaller, little people. They lived on the outskirts of society because they were different, so they had a much harder time finding work. When they did find work, they knew to value the money they made, so they kept it and didn’t spend it — they were good savers. Because they kept all of their savings, they were considered to be very rich, so whenever desperate people would need money, they would come looking for a “leprechaun” to steal all of their gold. That’s where the folklore about leprechauns came from and that’s also how the pop culture view of leprechauns was born.

After hearing about the leprechauns and about the castle, we then went to an open area near the castle, right across the bridge. The area was the place for dances where the Ceili bands would come to play their jigs. The Ceili bands were just large bands that would play at dances and they would play the same music all together to increase the sound. When our professor was pointing out where people would sit, where they would play and dance and drink and so on, I began imagining a dance taking place right in front of my eyes with a lot of smiling faces clapping their hands together while others tapped and swirled and jumped about.

As the scene was playing out in front of me, I also couldn’t help but think back to our second week of lecture when we were talking about the Dance Halls Act of 1935. This act banned all music and dancing in informal settings, in houses, in the streets, anywhere that wasn’t a dance hall. All dances and music had to be pre-approved and someone from the church had to be present at all dances. This is how the Ceili bands were formed because they needed the music to be loud in a large dance hall, but also to be played the same way (bland and boring if you ask me). This was strictly enforced and was put in place because lawmakers and parents were afraid that the promiscuity of the 1920s would lead to a more scandalous Ireland and would corrupt their youth. Sound familiar? It sounds a lot like Footloose to me. I wonder if the idea for Footloose was taken from the Dance Halls Act. I still can’t believe that this was actually real. I mean can you imagine being arrested for singing in your own house while you’re cleaning or something to that effect?

We then left the castle and wound our way to Gira, the old home of the Irish outlaws. It’s all become swamp land now, but in the past, Gira was the place outlaws fled to to get away from the authorities because it was basically a forest that was very hard to navigate. This was also the place where all the Irish moonshine, or poteen, was made and sold. Sadly, now it’s been reduced to basically a giant lake filled with grasses and tree stumps, but in my mind, I kept imagining the trees growing at a rapid pace to their once full height, the water draining, seeping back into the earth below and grimy outlaws popping up in between the trees, plotting their next move.

As we made our way along the River Lee, we also learned of an entire village that has now been lost to the river — it’s buried underneath the water, still intact to this day. It was evidently flooded and never recovered after the Inniscarra dam was built around the 1950s and when the gates opened, too much water was flowing and flooded most of the land along the River Lee. Some places like Gira have never really recovered from the flooding.

Upon leaving Gira, we then made our way to the Clapper Bridge, which is an old bridge made out of long stones that our professor estimated was built over 2000 years ago. It’s a basic bridge that was built using only stones and stacking them together to make them stay, and it stretches from one side of the river to the other.

Next, we made our way to a town called Inchigeelagh, where we met up with one of the locals that our professor knew at the ruins of an old church and cemetery in town. He led us through the cemetery stopping occasionally at different graves to tell us stories and legends of those who were buried there. He also sang a few songs for us both in English and in Irish. He was quite a spectacular person.

After leaving the cemetery, we made our way to this local’s pub for some much-needed soup and hot tea before hopping back on the bus to our next location. Before making it to our main stop for the day, we stopped to visit a few holy wells along the way. The two that we visited were both tucked away in forests or near fields. As we all circled around each well, our professor began to tell us many stories about the properties these wells are supposed to hold. The main idea ringing true in all of his stories is that people believed that these wells had healing powers.

We also learned that these healing waters would only boil on one day of the year and that’s the one day of the year that the well’s powers were most potent, on Pattern Day. Evidently, on this day, people would come from miles around to their nearest holy well and stand in line for hours and hours, waiting for their turn in the holy well. Women would dip their naked, squealing children in the water right after an old man had taken out his bloody, pus-filled leg from the water. It was extremely unsanitary as people would place the water on their eyes to heal the blind after sick people had just placed their diseased body parts into the well. It was utter chaos.

And this led us to our final stop at Gougane Barra, the home of the most potent holy well that people used to visit on Pattern Day and the source of the River Lee. It was the most gorgeous little place tucked far away from anything else. There’s a little church in the center, surrounded by water and nestled in by mountains. It was absolutely breathtaking. And, when we arrived, the wind was still biting and it was very cold, but the sun was shining through the clouds and hitting the mountains and the river in just the right way. It was stunning.

We explored the grounds for a while listening to more stories and lessons from our very energetic and awesome professor. There were so many cool hidden gems that we discovered while we were there, including The Money Tree. Our professor told us how when he was a boy, his dad would bring him to Gougane Barra a lot and there was an old cross that used to stand in the middle of the little patch of land. He told us that people used to stick coins into the cross for good luck, but it got to a point where the cross was made more out of coins than wood, so it fell and rotted. Now, people place their coins into a nearby tree to keep the tradition alive, so there is a Money Tree in Gougane Barra now with coins hammered into the wood.

For the rest of afternoon we explored the trails and sights of Gougane Barra and only when it began to pour down the rain did we make our way inside for dinner. Overall, it was an amazing day, and even though it was rainy and cold and windy, it made the experience that much more Irish and that much more real.

Carrigadrohid Castle



Dance Platform for Ceili Band





Clapper Bridge






Holy Wells




Gougane Barra











The Money Tree


Categories: Ireland 2013 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Cobh: The Last Port and Call of the Titanic

A couple of weekends back, my flatmate and I went on a little day trip to Cobh, which was previously known as Queenstown, the last port and call of the Titanic. We hopped on the train and talked during the 25 minute train ride from Cork to Cobh, taking in the blur of the Irish countryside as we passed castles, greenery, and water.

Once we arrived in Cobh, we took to the streets, absorbing the warmth of the sun as we walked along the harbor. As we walked, we came across the Titanic museum, which was built in the original ticket office for the White Star Line. We took the tour, learning more about the tragic day that the Titanic was lost at sea, but we also learned a great deal more about the Irish perspective.

There were about 130 passengers that boarded the Titanic in Cobh and almost all were in third class. There were only seven survivors out of the ones who boarded in Cobh, the last stop before heading to New York. Before the tour began, we received a Titanic ticket with a name of one of the real Irish passengers that got on the Titanic. At the end of the tour, we found out our fate. I was fortunate to have the ticket of a survivor, even though she was a third class passenger.

As we went along, we also got the chance to see the original dock of where those last passengers boarded the titanic. Even though the dock was in shambles, it still brought images of teenagers dressed in 1910s garb, covered head to foot, to my mind. As we finished the tour, I couldn’t quite shake the reality of the lives that were lost on the Titanic. It seems that the Titanic has become a subject that many people talk about, almost always in relation to the movie, but I think people seem to forget the actual lives that were lost that day. They had families, lives, and they each had a reason to head to America.

After we ended out Titanic tour, we were getting a bit hungry, so we unpacked our peanut butter sandwiches and apples and found a great little spot by the pier to eat. It was so sunny and peaceful, and it seemed like there was some sort of festival going on because there were tents set up all over the little park, selling food and what not. It was the perfect afternoon to be in Cobh.

After lunch, we set off to explore more of the city. First, we went to St. Colman’s Cathedral, which is the focal point of the town because it can be seen from just about every angle. The thing about Cobh and getting to the cathedral though, is that it’s up a very large sloping hill. I literally felt like I was walking horizontally for a bit, but seriously, right after being in the world of the Titanic, I felt like I was walking up the Titanic’s deck when it was rising up to fall in the water.

We did get to pass by the “Pack of Cards,” which is a very iconic and picturesque view in Ireland of a line of houses sloped on this hill and from every angle, they look like a pack of cards. They were so cute and colorful and they had the greatest view of the ocean, but I’m not sure I could climb that hill every day.

Once we made it to the top, we walked a little further to the cathedral. It was absolutely stunning inside and out, and the large wooden doors on the inside of the cathedral reminded me so much of Hogwarts doors because they had black iron locks on them just like when they are closing the school in Harry Potter.

As we were leaving the cathedral, we met three very nice people who were asking us about our stay in Ireland and were just chatting away with us. One was from Ireland, but the other two were from Columbia. The Irish man spoke to us the most, telling us places we should visit and talking to us about our studies. We even had a long conversation about Cold Mountain because he had just watched it the night before, and when I said I was from North Carolina, he was all about talking to me about the movie. It was so great to meet such wonderful people.

Near the end of our conversation, he told us about this hidden Bible Garden up at the top of the city that we had to see, so we thanked him and we were on our way. We stayed on course per his instructions and found the most beautiful deserted little garden with amazing views of the town and the ocean. It was breathtaking.

After visiting the Bible Garden, we headed back down to the main part of town to explore a little more. The only downside to our trip is that there weren’t many places that were open. Only restaurants and pubs were open. I’ve found this to be true of all of Ireland so far, that all of the shops close down by 5 pm every day and they are closed all together on Sundays, aside from restaurants and pubs.

As we were winding down a bit for the day, we headed back to the harbor to take in the ocean views until our 4:30 pm train. As we approached the little park by the sea, we were met with awesome music coming from under the little gazebo in the center of the park. There were fiddles, tubas, trombones, flutes, everything a little town’s band needs. Listening to them play and seeing them all dressed in almost 1950s style pinstripes made me automatically think of Gilmore Girls when the Stars Hollow band would play in the gazebo.

Overall, it was a great day full of color, sun and surf.

Original Titanic Dock


White Star Line Ticket Office


Titanic Pose







Pack of Cards



St. Colman’s Cathedral





The Harry Potter Doors


Bible Garden





The Gazebo Band


Categories: Ireland 2013 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

According to Legend…

…a saint was born in a Fairy Fort while his mother was to burn at the stake, a prideful outlaw became a hero by telling off the British, and children that were “gone with the fairies” were buried in unmarked graves at crossroads under the cover of the night.

Last weekend’s field trip was all about legends of saints and fairies. We visited a number of places all of which were off the beaten path including a ring fort with a fairy field, a stone circle, an abbey-turned-graveyard and an unmarked children’s graveyard.

The entire week we had been learning about fairy folklore in Irish tradition, and fairies are not what you might expect them to be. Fairies are meant to be evil in Ireland, only coming to the human realm to steal people, especially children. There are many theories behind why they would steal children, but all come back to the fact that the fairies want red blood because their blood is white. They want the red blood, either by drinking it (vampires) or by mating with humans, to “redden” their bloodline.

One theory behind this is that the fairies are really fallen angels. They are stuck on Earth, but are not human, so they see “reddening” their bloodline as their ticket back into heaven. Another theory is that the fairies used to be gods, and the Irish fought them in battle and won. The truce then stated that half of Ireland would go to the humans and half to the fairy gods. But, the fairies had been tricked by the humans. The humans took the top half of Ireland, while the fairies took the half that was underneath the earth.

Because fairies are known to steal children and take them to the fairy world, the fairies would then replace the children they steal with fairies or changelings. The whole idea of changelings really caught me off guard when we were on our field trip. Changelings were meant to be fairy children that had replaced the human children.

But the reasons for a changeling were quite disturbing, as well as the ways in which one could check to see if someone was a changeling. Basically, if a child was born out of wedlock, with a deformity, was sick, or was different in any way, they were declared a changeling, and therefore, a fairy. So, to get rid of the fairy and to get the human child back, parents would leave their babies in manure heaps outside overnight, hold them over fire or place them on a hot shovel, leave a hot iron over their cribs, and so much more because fairies are afraid of iron, fire, and anything dirty.

The changeling idea doesn’t stop with children though. Any adult who was different or on the outskirts of society, whether they were deformed, sick, homeless, or had diseases like Alzheimer’s, were also considered to be “gone with the fairies,” or as changelings.

In some even more tragic cases, wives were being accused of being a fairy, and once they were accused, there was no turning back. This was the case of Bridget Cleary. Her husband was unhappy that they had been married for around 6 years and had no children, so once Bridget came down with bronchitis and wasn’t exactly herself, he accused her of being a fairy. He then, along with most of Bridget’s own family, took to the procedures of getting rid of a changeling to bring back their dear Bridget.

Some of these rituals included throwing urine over her because fairies don’t like anything dirty, feeding her a “fairy cure” to see if she could keep it down (she couldn’t because it’s poison), placing her over the fire, and making her eat bread. When she couldn’t keep the bread down, her husband was convinced that she was a fairy because fairies can’t eat any food from our world.

After seeing this, he threw his wife into the fireplace and watched her burn to death. This was only about 100 years ago, which is pretty scary if you ask me. Everyone knows that this was a tragedy, a man either using fairylore to kill his wife or actually believing in what seemed to be harmless stories by that point in time. That’s the scary part about folklore sometimes – what happens when adults start to believe in the legends and use the stories as excuses for murder. There are many accounts like Bridget Cleary’s, but none that made it past the early 1800s.

One of the sights we visited on our field trip was to a children’s burial ground, where all of the children and people who were considered fairies were buried. If you don’t know it’s a graveyard, it would be hard to point it out as it looks just like a patch of grass at the crossroads. I listened to my professor as I stood on the bones of unwanted children and people, realizing the full impact these stories had on people in the past. How could someone kill their child just because it wouldn’t eat or it had a deformity?

We also visited the largest ring fort, or fairy fort, in all of Ireland. A ring fort is basically a circular patch of land surrounded by two rings of ditches. In folklore, these land patches were considered portals to the fairy world and where all of the children were taken. Historically, people lived in these forts and had the ditch system to keep their cattle from being stolen or running off. Kings were also inaugurated inside these ring forts.

The legend goes that St. Finbarre was also born in the middle of the ring fort that we visited. His mother, a slave, was supposed to sleep with the King, but when the King arrived, she was nine months pregnant with the blacksmith’s child. When he found out, he ordered them to be burned at the stake inside the ring fort, the usual place for burnings. According to legend, St. Finbarre, from inside his mother’s womb, made it rain so they would not burn, and was born right there in the middle of the fort, talking and with a ring of light around his head. In the words of my professor, “This kid was meant to do something. He was special. I mean, he spoke from his mother’s womb — of course they made him a saint!”

On the fairy side of things, the legend of the fairy fort began long ago, but was reinforced when a young girl was seen playing by the ring fort. She went missing that same day and no one ever saw her again, so people said that the fairies had taken her. Many years later, her body was discovered underneath the fairy fort, buried from a cave-in. But that just goes to show that fairies were the perfect solution to a lot of life’s problems back then. By saying, “It was the fairies,” people were given some closure to the unexplained.

On our travels we also visited the Kilcrea Abbey that has been turned into a graveyard over the years. It was only an abbey for a few years before it was turned to ruins in battle. After that, it became a graveyard for one family, the McCarthy’s. This lasted a little while until the Irish potato famine, when there just weren’t enough spaces to bury all of the bodies, so they were literally dumped into this graveyard, left to rot.

My professor informed us that he used to play in this graveyard when he was a kid, finding enough bones to put whole skeletons together because it had become a boneyard more than anything else. It wasn’t until the 1970s that people started to clean it up a bit, and we still found a few loose bones as we walked through the graveyard.

It was also very strange seeing gravestones inside old fireplaces and under the ruins of old windows. It was like having a graveyard in your house. As I walked from room to room, I started to picture the hustle and bustle that would have been going on when it was still an abbey, now with the spirits of the dead taking over the common room, the study, the great hall. It was all very surreal.

In this graveyard, a very special figure is buried, Arthur O’Leary. He is known as the man who told off the British in the 1700s. He rode his horse into town with a sword slung across his waist. A member of the gentry then came up to him in town and told O’Leary to give him his horse. O’Leary basically told him to “piss off,” something no one did at the time, and he was made an outlaw. A few days later, O’Leary rode back into town on his horse just to show off his Irish roots a little more, but this ride cost him his life. He was shot and killed, but remains a legend to this day.

After visiting a few graveyards, we made our way to Clonakilty for lunch. It was such a cute little town full color and excitement. There was even a little train that rode through the streets while we ate lunch.

After the break we headed to the Drombeg Stone Circle. It had the most gorgeous view of the ocean and the breathtaking Irish hills. While we were there we learned more about the stone circle itself, about how over 2000 years ago, people used these circles to sacrifice Kings or Chiefs when the land wasn’t doing well or when they disagreed with his leadership. Our professor even told us how he was part of the archaeological team that found a human skeleton in a capsule buried under the circle.

Near the stone circle, there were also remnants of a house and of a cooking station. The cooking station was a horseshoe shaped place with a rectangular opening in the ground. Our professor told us how people used these rectangles to boil water by placing large stones in a fire that would heat up for the entire day and then placing the stones one by one in the water until it was boiling. Then, they would place meat and vegetables into the rectangular boiling “pot.”

The boiling pot’s function didn’t end there though. It was also used as a way for soldiers to bathe. They would strip down by the pot, revealing their battle scars and fresh wounds and then they would use the animal fat that had come off of the boiling meat as soap to wash up. I could just imagine warriors standing around this rectangular boiling pot, recounting battle stories and laughing at their own luck to have survived. It was a very cool place to visit.

After a day of graveyards, warriors, and fairies, we ended our field trip at a beautiful harbor in Glandore. It was absolutely breathtaking and it reminded me so much of my time in Maine as well as The Little Mermaid. It was just so beautiful. And of course, it wouldn’t be a folklore trip without a few rusty, sunken ships nearby.

Overall, it was a day of reflection and of storytelling, visiting sights not for tourists, but for locals, not for the light-hearted, but for the strong-stomached. I saw where history met folklore and the effects stories can have on people, way back when and today.

Children’s Burial Ground



Entrance to Fairy/Ring Fort


The Ditches/Rings



The Middle of the Ring Fort where St. Finbarre was Born


Clovers in the Fairy Fort


Kilcrea Abbey










Loose Human Bone (Lower Right Corner)


Arthur O’Leary’s Tomb





Drombeg Circle



The Cooking Area



Fun at the Circle




My Folklore Class


Glandore Harbor






Categories: Ireland 2013 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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