30 Oct. 2010
I think we can all agree that, whenever it is humanly possible, you should use puns. It is one of the clearest, simplest laws of nature. Not worth debating, really. I mean, on my first trip to Cork, I sent out couch requests with "Cork-surfing" as the subject line, because that is the way it was meant to be. It has now come full circle.
Dario and I agreed to host a last-minute guest named David. I sent him a text message with our details and later, when he was able to access the intarwebs, he sent me a message with the same subject line I had once used. Ah, loveliness! Punny how it all comes back 'round to you, eh?
Dario, David, me. Why do I always have that "…no, the button is on the right" look on my face?
I decided that I'd like to start getting photos of all of our guests. Preferably photos that include their face, but if they are shy or a criminal, I'll agree to a picture of the back of their head. Or perhaps a kneecap. The above picture is the first in a series, as we anticipate hosting more people here in our wee Cork apartment. :D (Thank you to Steven, who agreed to be our short-notice shutterbug.)
So back to David and such. He is cycling around Europe for a few months and stopped to stay with us for 2 days. On the day of his departure (pictured above) for a ferry to France, we were called to meet up with and bid adieu to Christine, another surfer. She had been in Ireland for about a month and stayed with us for a couple of days the prior week. She was also heading to France.
Now before you start asking, "What's so terrible about Cork that everyone wants to leave it and go to France?" let me just wag a finger at you, you full-of-assumptions person, you! *finger wagging commences* It was merely coincidental. David was visiting France, whereas Christine lives in France. She is, in fact, French. And for what it's worth, she didn't want to leave. And she's coming back because Cork is so awesome. So there!
Christine, fabulous French painter.
That's right, I knew her back before she was famous. Just because she isn't yet, doesn't mean I can't say that!
Look how angelic we are in the pub-light. Aww…
L-R: Christine, Karl, Aaron, and some dude who's always photobombing my pics. I think he's Italian.
I call this piece, "Tableau du Beamish." …Aww, look at everyone's tasty beverages. Notice how all the glasses are turned in a lovely, product-placement-y way.
No matter how well I might one day learn the accent, I will never be able to fake anyone into believing I'm Irish since I don't like beer. I try every few years to see if anything has changed. (After all, I now like onions, tomatoes, and Brussels sprouts, so you never know.) I managed to acquire a taste for red wine that served me well in Italy. Beer, though, not so much. Maybe if I try in the summer, on a hot day, while eating an O'Flynn's sausage or something. Hmm. I shall work on it. Until then, I will be the Designated Photographer and Rememberer of Embarrassing Deeds.
One last Cork-ish bit for the day. Today, 5 Nov. 2010, I went down to submit some additional documentation to the Social Welfare Office in order to get my PPSN (like a Social Security Number, only Irish!). I got there a little before the office opened and waited, as instructed by a large sign — sadly not pictured — to wait in the "Q." (No, not the queue, the Q!) While I was standing there, I realized that, shoot, if you have to be in a line, it's really quite a nice place to be!
Oh, the horrors of "Q"-ing in Ireland!
People in Ireland like to complain about how inefficient the system is. I tell them, "That's only because you haven't lived in Italy!" I mean, come on, look at this. Even if you have to come back here several times to do paperwork, which isn't especially likely, there really are worse things they could do to you than force you to take in Irish scenery. ;)
Happy Autumn, everyone!