"Worth It..."

One of the best highlights from our trip to Ireland was our visit to the Aran Islands. These islands sit off the coast, about a 45 minute ferry ride from land. We decided to brave the elements and stay out there for one night and spend a day exploring before returning back to the mainland. After what felt like an eternity getting there, as I was thrust back into seasickness like the last time I was on the sea (Sea Sick Sunk blog post) we arrived and were escorted to our hotel for the night. We were somewhat chilly and isolated - we were one of the only ones in the hotel that night and the heat wasn't working. In somewhat of a slumber party - Dave, Mom, Rebecca and I sharing one of the rooms we reserved - where we wrote in our trip journals together and closed the night with some Irish ghost storytelling. I enjoyed playing the part of the storyteller - adding even more goosebumps to our skin than we already had because of the cold room temperature. The wind was howling outside all night - and we were perfectly happy listening to it together, in the comforts of each other's company. In the morning, Dave served some tea and we suited up for what was sure to be an exciting day.

We hustled our parents out the door and down to the bike rental place. Mom and Dad wisely chose to tour the island by van, and Rebecca, Dave and I courageously saddled up on our bikes and departed for our own tour of the island. It was a blast riding a bike again - Rebecca of course was used to it as she has been riding to and from work for the last few months - but I had not for quite awhile. Dave had just done this exact bike tour a few weeks prior on his visit here, but we were told the weather was not so pleasant then. So, off we went to adventures unknown - it was an incredibly freeing feeling. The weather was great - which was somewhat unexpected as we had all bundled up in a few layers too many. Of course, you could never be sure in Ireland, for we had experienced all sorts of weather changes in the span of a day a few times during the trip. Our first stop was an abandoned lighthouse on top of the center of the island. By "top" I am implying "hill" of which I am therefore implying "exhausting" and "need to walk, not bike," to the top. It was a good first challenge, of which I can say with no shame that I was not prepared for. Plus, my bike began to act up and behave badly, as I had to work out a few chain slips before even getting to the really hard parts.

The lighthouse was really cool. We had to hop the fence to get in and walk around the broken down walls and buildings. We kind of set ourselves up to be freaked out the night before with all the ghost stories, but there's nothing quite like a jolt of fear to warm the body! This fearful moment came when we were snooping around the old living quarters and I noticed movement beyond the walls out of the corner of my eye - we quickly departed and noticed it was only other bikers. From there, we took to the bumpy and rocky roads beyond the lighthouse on the downhill portion of the island top. It was then that my bike decided to completely crap out on me. My chain became so discombobulated and twisted that I temporarily lost my "all is wonderful" composure and gave way to panic and disappointment. After 20 minutes and blackened grease covered fingers, we sorted it out and were back on our way. I of course decided to stay in one gear for the remainder of the day for fear of incident repeat, but I felt much better that way than having to walk next to my bike the rest of the day.

Our next fear inducing moment came when taking to some exhilarating downhills and speed racing on the island roads. As I braced to make a bold and daring pass, I was quickly alerted to the presence of a large, slow moving tractor on its way toward us. I had to curb the pass attempt and settle for surviving to see another hill - which was a bummer, because I was really looking forward to the look on Rebecca's face when I zoomed past her. Our next stop was the Fort overlooking the sea on another high part of the island. This fort allowed for visitors to experience the dizzying heights of the spectacular cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. On our way up to the top, we bumped into my parents on their way down. We received some stern warnings and caution from my Dad - so we knew that this was going to be awesome! Upon getting there ourselves, we were not disappointed - it was truly amazing. We ate some lunch (an apple) and enjoyed watching in awe as the apple cores plummeted off the side of the cliff, taking what seemed like a dozen seconds to reach the water below. Despite our curiosity and awe, we were struck with the fear of God laying on our bellies overlooking the waters too. I refused to take a picture for this fear was crippling - one wrong move and it was over. Amazing stuff to say the least. The green grass surrounding us was also just as beautiful and made for a nice place to lay down and ponder the mysteries of creation and just how awesome the Creator really is.

After taking all the beauty and majesty from around us in and scarfing down our candy bars during the descent, we were ready for more - feeling more alive and rejuvenated than ever before. The rest of the day seemed to glide by - not feeling too fast or slow, but just right. Towards the last portion of our day, feeling the soreness kicking in (my bike seat was rather hard) we took on what seemed to be more and more hills. And, riding in one gear for those hills was neither easy nor fun... But, alas, it was worth it when my eyes were struck with all the diverse and inspiring sights of the island - and getting to share all of those moments with two of my most treasured persons in my life was truly a blessing beyond comparison. Even the last challenges of the day - riding down a mile long hill to the edge of the island only to turn around and ascend it immediately - to the excruciatingly long steady incline along the coastline on the way back, which lasted an hour but felt like four - all of it was completely and without argument, worth it. The day spent on the island, riding our bikes, taking picture after picture and having time to personally reflect about and share how truly wonderful life really is - well, there is just no way of ever describing how well spent a day like that really is.

Forgettable Moments

Ok - back to Ireland. There were many unforgettable moments and memories during our weeklong trip of the Emerald Isle. Our expectations were high, and I can say that for the most part, the people and places of Ireland far surpassed what we expected - it was truly one of the best life experiences I've had in my 28 years. The local Irish people were just as friendly and welcoming as we expected - and we will not soon forget them. There were, however, a few conversations that were not so pleasant - quite forgettable in my opinion - and both of them were with Americans.


While waiting for our plane at the Dulles airport - not quite on Ireland soil yet, but definitely in vacation mode - we had a conversation with a woman I will refer to as "Chatty Cathy." My other travel companions may not remember nor think much of the Chatty Cathy incident, but I was quite perturbed. As we were waiting for our flight to Dublin at the Washington Dulles airport, Rebecca started quizzing us about the road signs in Ireland from the Rick Steves travel book. Enjoying our time together while in competition for sign knowledge supremacy, a woman sitting beside us quipped something about Ireland that got our attention. A brief and friendly conversation followed and we learned that they too were headed to Limerick to see their daughter who is attending the same college as Dave was. Ever the friendly ones, my Mom and Dad continued to respond to her questions cordially. I, on the other hand, would have rather continued to selfishly keep our circle of activity with fewer distractions from our fellow tourists, as I had just gotten used to being near my parents for the first time in months. It wouldn't have been an issue normally - I like making new friends and I have no problem chatting it up with strangers. What made this instance different was that this woman wouldn't shut up and seemed to lack a little thing I like to call "social tact." We weren't five minutes into meeting them that she was asking us what our travel agenda was and whether or not she could have my brothers' email address and phone number for her and her family to contact us. Luckily, my brother did not have a phone number and my Mom smartly deflected the email question. I really didn't think it was cool to be contact info swapping my brother's info with these people. I know I wouldn't want some random family or their daughter calling me up and being like, "oh hey, you don't know me, but our parents met at the airport..." Maybe I'm just being a grouch here, but she seemed a little too nosy and tactless for my tastes.


Then there was the now infamous interaction in Gus O'Connors pub in Doolin with the gentlemen from the Midwest. Their New Balance shoes alerted us that they were from the U.S.A. (Which, according to my brother, is how Irish people can tell who is American and who's not.) We were fortunate enough to avoid this distinction but instead were noted to be tourists just by glancing at my poor Dad who was quickly relegated to carrying all of my Mom's camera gear everywhere we went. Anyways, back to the low point of the entire trip - the conversation from hell. It's bad enough having this conversation in America, so to have it occur while in vacation mode when having the best time of your life is downright cruel.

It was a Sunday night, and we were settling into our spots for another evening of traditional Irish music and Guiness drinking. Sporting New Balance shoes and a Chicago Bears stocking hat we scanned to spot the ultimate gut punch - the Bears hat dude was in the company of Brett Favre Green Bay Packer jersey wearing guy! Our purple pride swelled in our hearts and we were suddenly transported into another dimension - Minnesota Viking territory. My Dad, Dave and I couldn't help but shake our heads in disgust. Out of all the people we would run into in Ireland, it had to be this guy. Like any good fan, the first instinct is to quickly evaluate how your team had matched up against the despised Packers - and the result was "not well." The very last game against them resulted in a 34-0 contest in their favor. If we decided to show our hand to him, it was not going to be fun - no, it would either end in a bar room brawl or...no, that's about right - there was only one way it would end. The solution? Avoid him at all costs - there was no winning this, so save your dignity. That was the plan that Dave and I had silently agreed upon - we were not going to engage with him - we were going to abide by the quote: "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all." Yes, we would lick our wounds and keep our tempers in tact by not giving this Cheesehead a chance. Then, before we knew it he was walking towards us and Dad was blurting out "VIKINGS RULE!" I kid you not, the old man just could not contain himself - he had unwittingly engaged us in a battle we knew was unwinnable.

As expected, this guy was unbearable. He quickly jumped all over my Dad - snidely laughing and tossing his comment aside before launching into his Brett Favre is God and Packer bandwagon schpiel faster than you can say Lambeau Field. My temper flared and my purple pride flashed lightning hot, but I had nothing to dish out this time - nothing to save face - our Vikings had just sustained the hardest of defeats at the hands of the Packers, the only insult I could manage was that they had dealt a cheap shot to our new prized player, Adrian Peterson. To describe his arrogance and lack of proper ettiquette (we just met him, it wasn't like he was a long-time friend) in speaking to us - ugh - it was downright terrible. He left us momentarily, to which Dave and I had 30 seconds to look at my Dad in disbelief before he returned and was apologizing - insincerely - for his words. I properly ignored him and let Dad do the talking, for he was afterall, the reason for him being around us in the first place. About the only redemption we had was when my Dad asked him "So, what do you do?" He paused and then responded awkwardly with nothing close to a decent response. Basically, it was deemed that he was at best "in between jobs" but most likely "a bum" whose only occupation was following the dream Packer football season and contributing nothing else to society but for advertising american football in Ireland. Harsh yes, but I don't think we could have crossed paths with anyone more agonizing. Yes, it was truly the low point of the week. He was ridiculously obnoxious and annoying - nuff said.

Aside from these interactions, our week was pain free. Well, pain free until we reached the Aran Islands bike adventure the next day...

To be continued!

Lesson Learned

I do plan on continuing my blogs about Ireland, but this incident with Rebecca is just too good to pass up. I'd like to say that this little mishap is right up there with one of the more comical arguments we've ever had. We are generally very successful when it comes to our marriage in the communication department but the miscommunication we experienced last week definitely kept us humble.

Here's some background you'll need to know before delving in: 1) I take the bus to work everyday. Rebecca either drops me off at the bus stop, or I drive myself and leave our car at the stop. If I drive and leave the car, that means Rebecca is riding her bike to work. If not, it means she is obviously dropping me off and taking the car to her work and picking me up again at the end of the day. 2) There are essentially 2 buses I take into work - either the 7:30 or the 8:15. We commonly refer to the first of these as "the early bus" for obvious reasons. On the way home I will most likely shoot for the 4:30 bus, for which I depart the office around 4:15 for. Occasionally I will have to take the 5:20 or the 5:30 pm bus home. I flex my time accordingly so that I will almost always take the 4:30 bus home, regardless of what time I get into the office in the morning. 3) Since my office is located close to downtown, Rebecca and I will occasionally eliminate the bus and she will pick me up at work in order to run errands or tend to something close to downtown rather than going home first.

Ok, now that you have the basic info down - here's what happened, blow by blow:

Last Friday morning, we woke up around 6 am and snoozed until around 6:30 am at which time the question of which bus I was taking was proposed. Knowing that I am superbly great at getting ready in a jiffy when I need to, I responded: "If we get moving now, I can take the early bus." We both hustled and were able to get out the door and on towards the bus stop, with Rebecca dropping me off. On the way to the bus, our conversation went something like this: "What time will you be ready to be picked up?" Rebecca asked. "My usual time - around 4:15," I responded, somewhat surprised (explanation will follow). "Ok, I'll pick you up at 4:15." Rebecca said. "See you then!" I responded. So, with that, I was out of the car and ready to catch the bus.

We did not email nor talk on the phone all day. When 4 pm rolled around, I began wrapping up but resisted the urge to go to the bus as I was getting specially picked up around 4:15. The questions that I was internally asking were: I wonder why Rebecca didn't tell me that she was taking off early today? Why hasn't she called me yet to tell me that she is on her way like she usually does? I tried to give the cell phone a call (of which we only have 1 to share between us, and I had given to her to take for the day as I figured she would need to call me on her way to pick me up.) No answer. Huh - weird. So I waited and waited and still saw no sign of her - so I returned to my office to try and call the cell phone again to see where she was at.

I got a hold of her around 4:25 pm. She answered and was flabbergasted as to why I was not on my way to the bus stop. I then learned that she had been waiting at the bus stop for me to arrive at 4:15. "I thought you were picking me up at work," I said. "I thought you were taking the early bus and getting here at 4:15," she said. And so began the argument of who screwed this one up the most as we were certainly not even close to being on the same page.

Her assumptions: She, for whatever reason, assumed that my statement at 6:30 am of "if we hustle I can take the early bus" meant that I was planning on taking an early bus HOME rather than to work. She also assumed that her question "What time will you be ready to be picked up" was received by me as it related to what time I would be ready to be picked up at the bus stop, not at work.

My assumptions: I assumed that her statement "I'll pick you up" meant that she was going to pick me up at work rather than having me take the bus home. I had assumed that she had some reasons of which were not completely relayed to me as to why it was her plan to pick me up at work, rather than the bus. We had thrown around some talk earlier in the week as to doing so but nothing was ever finalized. I also assumed that her question as to what time I'd be ready to be picked up was in relation to what time I was officially done for the day, which was 4:15pm - when I would normally make my way to the bus stop to catch the 4:30 home.

Her blunder(s): She does not know the bus schedule at all, so she had no way of knowing that there was no bus that dropped me off at the stop at 4:15 pm. She also didn't ask why I had left her the cell phone for the day, when I usually take it with me when taking the bus home.

My blunder(s): I never bothered to ask her why she was taking off early to pick me up at work that day. I also didn't think to double check during the day as I usually do when she picks me up at work.

So, our entire miscommunication could have been avoided had we not made several key assumptions. Why she thought I was referring to my afternoon departure as the "early bus" when we have never referred to any afternoon bus as "the early one" is still a mystery to both of us as we've only attributed the morning bus as such in the past. I also told her that my mind processed "I'll pick you up" as odd and therefore automatically deciphered it to mean that she was going to pick me up at work - because I was like "DUH" of course you'll pick me up - how else would I get home?! She argued that there was no reason for her to pick me up downtown - so why did I think that was the case? I, again, was guilty on that because I was under the thinking that she had her reasons and I didn't need to know why - I was also just happy to know that I was getting picked up, rather than taking the bus home. I could go on and on how this heated but hysterical conversation played out once we realized that we were BOTH at fault and had made one too many assumptions that led to our set-back. In the end though, there was no love lost as we laughed it off and chalked it up as a learning experience in our communication together.

Remember: "Don't ASSUME - you'll end up making an A** out of "U" and ME. " Lesson learned.