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7/27/2007 Now in London Mon transfert s'est bien effectue. Ce matin, j'etais a Dublin, et ce soir, je suis a London.
On s'est laisses aux environs de Killarney, la derniere fois. Au p'tit matin, on a quitte le village pour se diriger vers Cork. On a stoppe brievement dans Kinsale, la metropole gastronomique, le temps d'un p'tit repas a la sauvette. Y'a rien a voir, a Kinsale, y'a juste des fuckings restos partout. Alors j'ai mange une crepe jambon-fromage-champignons avec Marco et Melissa, mes fabuleux amis Italiens.
Notre merveilleux bus vert s'est egalement arrete a Blarney Castle. On retrouve, au Blarney Castle, la Blarney Stone. Quiconque embrasse la dite roche est aussitot pourvu du don de l'eloquence. Evidemment, il y a la petite legende qui va avec l'histoire, mais je vous l'epargnerai... Le hic, c'est que le dit caillou, ben il est juque en haut de la structure du chateau, au-dessus d'une trappe, a 30 m du sol. Pour l'embrasser, on doit se coucher sur le dos, se laisser glisser dans le vide en se tenant sur les deux barres vissees dans la structure du chateau. Il y a egalement un vieil Irlandais avec des bras en beton (je confirme, je les ai palpes) qui nous retient. Reste quand meme que pendant 3 secondes, toute ton adrenaline est concentrees dans tes bras pour te retenir de tomber dans le vide. Ils ont rajoutes 3-4 barres de fer pour rattraper les malchanceux, mais ca sonne beaucoup moins rassurant que ca a l'air.
On est ensuite revenus sur Cork, pour notre derniere soiree officielle du tour. Pub-hopping again, on a commence dans un mini mini pub, ou les habitues etaient hyper sympathiques. Ensuite, resto de la mort chez Luigi Malone, ecoeurant, la meilleure bouffe du voyage et de loin! Le gateau au fromage au Toblerone et butterscotch, c'etait overkill. J'ai pas ete capable de le finir... Ensuite, on a pris quelques drinks au Old Oak. Les crinques sont alles veiller au Cuba, mais comme y'a genre la moitie d'entre nous (dont moi) qui etaient malades commes des chiens, on est retournes a l'auberge.
Le lendemain, derniere journee du tour. On s'est enfiles de Cork a Kilkenny, ou on a dine au chateau. On est repartis illico pour Dublin. On s'est arretes a la Brasserie Guiness. Mais j'etais vraiment pas bien, avec la fievre des foins... Je n'ai meme pas termine ma pinte gratuite! C'etait l'heure de se laisser, deja et enfin! Je me suis dirigee vers mon super hostel pour les 2 nuits d'extra que j'avais bookees. J'ai choke tout le monde pour le rendez-vous qui etait fixe au Temple Bar, j'ai prefere finir mon moment en tete-a-tete avec Harry. Je suis arrivee a Temple Bar 30 minutes apres l'heure du rendez-vous. La place etait jam-packed, mais il y avait personne de ma connaissance. Eh ben tant pis, je suis allee sur Internet, j'ai appele Marie-Elaine pour discuter HP, puis je suis allee me coucher. J'ai discute un peu avec mes cochambreurs, une famille de Francais plutot sympa.
Le lendemain matin, j'ai pris mon temps et je suis partie decouvrir Dublin toute seule comme une grande. J'ai fait le tour de la ville en autobus, c'etait plus simple. J'ai fait un p'tit tour par le centre d'achats et les librairies de la place, evidemment. Le soir, j'ai fait le Ghost Bus Tour. Pendant 2 heures, je me suis fait conter les legendes de Dublin, et j'ai fait le tour des cimetieres de Dublin les plus hantes, les endroits les plus visites par les esprits, ou les gens etaient executes autrefois. C'etait weird. Surtout quand on s'est mis a prendre des photos et que le gars a cote de moi, sur ses photos, il y avait des boules de lumieres qui n'etaient definitivement pas la quand on regardait avec nos yeux. Ca arrive tout le temps, il parait...
Ce matin, avant l'aurore, j'ai referme mon paqueton et avant 6h00, j'etais en route vers l'aeroport de Dublin. Un p'tit pincement au coeur quand je realise que je m'en vais pour vrai. Dublin-Londres.
En arrivant ici, je savais plus trop quoi faire de moi. J'ai ete porter mes bagages a l'hotel et je suis repartie tout de suite a Greenwich. J'ai ete faire mon pelerinage au Royal Observatory, et j'ai ete enjamber le meridien zero a quelques reprises. J'ai ete hyper decue quand j'ai vu que la machine a imprimer des certificats avec l'heure exacte de mon enjambement du meridien zero etait brise. Ils le realisent peut-etre pas, mais j'etais venue juste pour ca...
Je suis revenue a l'hotel parce que ma camera etait morte, parce que je suis encore malade et que demain j'ai une espece de journee qui m'attend. Je fais le tour de la ville a pied et j'ai rendez-vous avec Dell et Bea demain soir. Malade.
Back sur Montreal dimanche midi. 7/25/2007 Maman! C'est fiiiniii!!!Non je parle pas de mon tour de l'Irlande, meme si c'est vrai que je l'ai fini cet apres-midi a la Brasserie Guiness...
Je parle bien evidemment de ma lecture de Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Que j'ai ete acheter au petit matin a Galway.
Que j'ai lu dans un autobus en longeant la cote Ouest de l'Irlande.
Que j'ai prete a 3 de mes covoyageurs.
Que j'ai pleure presque tout le long.
Que j'ai termine ce soir, dans ma chambre d'auberge de jeunesse a Dublin.
Que c'est genant de pleurer en lisant un livre dans une auberge de jeunesse.
Que je trouve que J.K. Rowling est un genie, meme si c quetaine de dire ca.
Que j'ai vraiment le gout de parler avec quelqu'un mais que je suis fucking coincee dans un Call Shop a Dublin et que tous les telephones sont pris.
Que je pense que je vais aller relire mon livre.
For the Greater Good.
Amen 7/23/2007 The land of Nevernever-hungoverHey peeps!!
After that crazy night in Galway, everything's been really smooth. I woke up early and got a nice shower and got dressed. I stirred in my bunk bed for a couple of hours before it was finally time to hit the streets and buy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I started reading it, but I have put it down for the few last days. The crowded bus that zigzags across Ireland, full of screaming and laughing people really isn't the ideal decor to fully appreciate JK Rowling's fine genius. And I'm surrounded by over-excited 19 year old Germans girls, that are always begging me to let them read a few pages.
Now I must say that I hate something about this trip. The thing is, I've been hanging out with 5 Germans since the beginning of the tour. And really, they almost never bother to translate for me. So they're always laughing and speaking loud, but I don't get a single word. From time to time, I look at them and say "Ja" or "Danke", one of the few words I know in German. (Although in the last few days, my German has upgraded by like 300%... Sometimes, I even get what they are saying, which freaks them out.) But, when I try to talk to other people, Australians or Americans, I have my germanic entourage following me. Really pisses me off. But hey, I don't want to be mean to them. They are on their holiday to.
I met two nice Italians a few days ago. Marco and Melisa. I've been practising my long lost Italian skills with them. So I guess you could say that during my 10 days in Ireland, my English got way better, I polished my Italian and my German knowledge rocketed. So far, so good.
I'm also getting used to all those different accents. Now, if you must know, Irish people don't come with subtitles. And they ALL have different accents... And don't get me started on those Australians... So there's a lot of "Pardon me?", "What was that?", "I'm sorry, I didn't get that!" involved in all of my conversations... I met so many nice people so far, though. But I must tell you about Sean. Because Sean represents my downfall...
Now, when Sean started the tour, he fell for the lovely Alanna. They are both from Australia, both gorgeous people, as sweet as could be. Therefore, in the first days of the tour, they didn't speak much to the other people that were on the tour. One night, followed by a part of my germanic fanclub, I sat with Sean and Alanna for supper in a pub. After supper, Sean bought the first round of drinks. He wanted to make us taste something we had never had tasted before. He got us Jamieson Whisky and Ginger Ale.
Now let me tell you about the amazing virtues of Jamieson and Ginger ale. It's sweet but not too sweet, strong but not too strong, and best of all, it leaves you with a head-ache free hungover. Really, you wake up the next morning feeling fresh and smooth. The only side effect is that I started snoring like crazy at night. No one ever told me that I snored. I mean, I knew I talked during my sleep, I never knew I snored. Which is kind of embarassing since we sleep in youth hostels, and are often 6 in the same room...
It is now common knowledge that I snore. In fact, in the last few days, I have been tagged as the French Canadian that snores. Which is dreadful. I said it was a genetic condition. Blame it on the parents!!
So as I was saying, I'm kind of hooked on the Jamieson-ginger-ale drink. The other side effects are the same as usual: I get bitchy and I start saying mean things about everyone in my ever too loud squeeky drunk voice, and I tend to speak a lot faster in English. I thought it was because I was getting better, but Marco, the handsome Italian guy, assured me it was not the case. In fact, it appears like the more I drink, the worse my French accent is distorting the words.
Together with Marco and Francie, who is from Germany but is not annoying, we started bitching altogether yesterday night. There has been a lot going on so far on the tour, people hooking up and people having crushes on others... So far, 3 couples were formed: Sean and Alanna, Brian (from Ireland) and Nikki (Australia) and Liam (Canada) and Leslie (Germany). When Liam and Leslie started holding hands, Liz (Australia) was kind of pissed off, because she seemed to have been eyeing on handsome Liam (who is also known as the Canadian GI Joe). It's a real soap opera on that bus!! And the drama will continue to unfurl as the tour comes to an end in 2 days...
So, about Ireland!
After Galway, we went to see a castle. Now this castle is said to have a magic power. If you walk around it anti-clockwise, you are getting your virginity back again. And guess who wasn't careful enough to check in which direction she was going? Guess who now is a virgin again? Yup. But I blame it on Leslie. I was following her, after all... After that castle, we went to see the beautiful Cliffs of Moher. It's really beautiful. Breathtaking. And scaring the shit out of me, walking along those cliffs without a rope to hold on to. Then we went off to sleep in some village in the Dingle peninsula. It was really neat. It is were I first got acquainted with the Jamieson and ginger ale drink. I also had the opportunity to taste the wonderful Carbong drink. It knocked the air out of me. I'll be making them at Christmas, that's for sure!!
Next morning, we went across Kerry to get to the city of Killarney. We stopped in a couple of places along the way, in Dingle to do a little shopping and we took the ferry across the Shannon River, which was nice. There's not much to do in Killarney, so we started to drink early. We also went to bed early (at 1h00 AM), because today, we were heading of to the Ring of Kerry.
It is a really great scenic route, along Ireland's highest mountains, not far from the Atlantic ocean coast. And the driver keeps on telling us stories about leprechauns, fairies, historic facts and heroic myths. It's so cool how they all intertwine. The bus left us somewhere in the National Park and from there, we took a carriage back to the hostel. It was neat. Kind of. Smelly. But neat.
Now we only have 2 days left on the official tour. After that, I'll be off for a free day in Dublin and 2 days in London. Dell says he is gonna call in sick where he works to come and hang out with me! We are meeting with Beatriz in Leicestare square. It's so crazy! I can't wait!!
Well I'll be off now, back to the hostel to know who is going where to drink what...
Tchuss! 7/20/2007 In Glamorous GalwayThe thing about Galway is, you can't drink the water that comes out of the tap. The only other option, evidently, is to drink beer. Lots and lots of it! Ireland is like being in college all over again. Getting pissed every night, drinking pint and after pint of beer... Guinness or Smithwicks, at your choice!! I think I left you back in Derry. Since then, we have (finally!) left depressing Northern Ireland (the part that still belongs to UK). Yesterday we didn't do much. We drove down to different monasteries and miraculous churches and Yeats' graveyard. I also went for a seaweed bath in Strandhill and my skin in all shiny now! We slept in Cong, right next to the castle in which Madonna married Guy Ritchie. I took a walk up to the castle with my new friend Kira, from Germany. The castle in the sunset looked pretty awesome! Today, we went back on the bus and I was the last one to get on because I had forgotten to brush my teeth. This means I got the crappy seat, the one in the middle of the very last row. I got to talk to a nice lady from Vancouver, who is travelling here with her daughter. And I slept for the rest of the day, stopping only for visiting an ancient monastery and doing lunch in beautiful Westport. We then arrived in Galway for an evening of debauchery. We first went shopping. I almost got something for everyone on my list. I just have to get something for my sisters in law and my parents. But all the others are done. Then, we went for supper in a nice little pub, Monroe's. The place was neat and the food was great. Then we went pub-hopping, leaded by John, some guy from Ireland that studied in Galway for 4 years. He took us to an awesome pub were we stayed until 11h30. From the, I was supposed to go and queue to buy my copy of HP7 a few hours before it was even available in Montreal. Instead, my inner alcoholic followed the others to Cuba. A nice bar who was just like le Grand Salon... :) I almost didn't get in. At the door, the doorman decided I looked to drunk to get in. I stepped aside with John until I got the chance to explain myself with some other guy. Finally, I blamed the misunderstanding on the fact that my first language was French, and not because of the 4 pints and Baby Guinness shot I just had. The guy happened to have been to Montreal, so we discussed the beautiful view from up Mount Royal, and then he let me him. The rest of the group cheered as I went in... They almost blew up my cover... I danced for a few hours and decided to get back to the bookstore to try and get a copy of HP7. The doormen at the library were much less compliant. They didn't want me to jump in the queue. I know it's 2h00 AM, but still, a girl has a right to her favorite new book! :) Right now, my free Internet time is almost over and the others are all coming back. I'll be off for now, I'll be on with my new adventures in a few days!! :) 7/16/2007 Sorry, but this one will be in English!The keyboard is a freaking nightmare as it is, and there are no accent whatsoever, so it's gonna be much more easier to just write the thing in English. Plus, I officially switched to English mode around London Heathrow...
I got to Dorval airport in advance Saturday afternoon. My flight was scheduled to leave at 7h45 PM, so I arranged to arrive 3 hours before, as requested. Well, turns out, at 4h30, I was checked-in and waiting for my plane. Which, fortunately, left on time. The winds were on our side, so we got there early. At 7h00 AM local time, I was checked-out and had got my back pack from the conveyor. The thing is, my flight from London tu Dublin was scheduled at 5h30 PM at Gatwick Airport. The shuttle between the two airports takes about 1 hour. Do the math: I had a whole lot of time ahead of me...
Fortunately, getting through the UK's customs these days is pretty long... I had to wait 1,5 hours there. By then it was almost 10h00 so I went to look for the shuttle. I missed the 10h15 one, so I had to wait (Yay! more waiting) for the 10h50 one. This means I got to Gatwick around 12h00. And then I fell in love.
There was a Marks and Spencers at Gatwick. It is some kind of fabulous supermarket that sold only ready-to-eat quality meals. I loved that place. I'm looking forward to go back there when I'm in London.
After getting a fabulous sandwich, a fabulous energy drink and fabulous mango slices, I still had to wait until 3h15 before I could check in. So I sat around the airport, went to look at the bookstore, tried not to fall asleep... Eventually, I managed to get checked-in and from then on, I knew I only had 2 more hours of waiting until my flight. Which I spent at the duty-free bookstore, and sleeping on a bench.
At 4h45, I started to look around for my flight. I was meant to get on the airport at 4h50, but I didn't know which gate the plane was boarded at. So I had to wait. And this time, it wasn't fun anymore. I stood staring at the screens to put on the gate number for the whole next hour. Finally, when I got so panicked I decided to ask some one about what was going with my flight, the screen changed. I then rushed to Gate 10. The plane got off immediatly after the last passenger got his belt buckled.
We arrived in Dublin 15 minutes late. Not much.
I then took the shuttle to Downtown Dublin. I got to my hostel, and went to bed almost immediately. Well, not really, I took the time to take a quick shower and read my emails.
Now let me tell you about the showers in Ireland. The one in the hostel in Dublin was a rather simple one to use. You had to push the button, hot water will come out of the shower. As soon as you released the button, the water stopped. It soons become a work out session to try and wash and rinse yourself... And the other thing is, the water just keeps getting hotter and hotter. At one point, it is boiling hot, so you just can't stay under. Really, for me, these showers are the worst nightmare.
This morning, we left Dublin for Drogheda. On the way, we stopped at Slane Castle (where U2 gives their famous concerts, it's really a beautiful place with the river in the back ground...) We also stopped at Monasterboice, a cemetary for monks in which you can find the biggest celtics cross in the world. We then got to Drogheda (pronounce Dro-ha-da), and were left on our own. I saw the preserved head of some martyre that got beheaded 400 years ago. It is mummified, and rather disturbing. Then I went to a short walk around this small city and basically saw everything there was to see.
Right now, I'm in Belfast. Belfast reminded me of Laval. It's small, part of it is nice and part of it looks too much industrialized. We took the afternoon to check out the city centre, and tomorrow morning we are going on a Black Taxi tour to check out the local history of the wars between Catholics and Protestants. Tell you about it next time!!
I've been stalking this computer for almost an hour now, so I'll be off now... Going to bed. Long day ahead tomorrow!! 7/14/2007 Look what just came into my Inbox:As part of the latest Travel Advisory on Security enhancements, please be advised that for travel out of the UK or connections through the UK, your carry-on baggage restrictions will be governed by the standard UK allowance. All passengers are limited to only 1 carry-on baggage, the dimensions not to exceed 23cm x 40cm x 55cm.
No liquids of any type, including gels, pastes, lotions, or aerosols will be accepted as part of carry-on baggage; these items must be checked. For further details, please visit aircanada.com
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!! 7/10/2007 Plus que 4 jours! (Et pourtant...)Je pars dans 4 jours et à date je suis pas pire... Il me reste du lavage de dernière minute à faire et de l'assemblage de bagage, mais je pense bien être dans les temps. J'ai juste un problème majeur: Quand est-ce que je suis supposée être capable d'aller me changer de l'argent à la banque??
J'ai beaucoup de talents, mais je n'ai pas encore réussi à me dédoubler. Ainsi, je comprend mal comment je peux faire pour aller me téléporter à la banque avant qu'elle ferme à 15h00 et à revenir au bureau sans que mon absence n'ait été remarquée. Surtout que la Banque Nationale m'informe que je dois me rendre dans le Mile-End ou bien au Complexe Desjardins pour pouvoir remplir mon porte-feuille de beaux euros et de livres sterling. Ah ben maudit!!
Fais chier, Banque Nationale! (Non, non, c'est pas vrai, s'il-vous-plaît, augmentez-moi pas mon taux d'intérêt!!!)
7/6/2007 Pissed offEn ce vendredi matin, je me suis levée du bon pied. Je suis même partie d'avance de chez moi, avec mon vélo version améliorée par Papa qui m'a posé mes nouvelles pédales cloutées. Je cheminais tout bonnement sur la piste cyclable qui long Christophe-Colomb, quand, à l'intersection Sauvé/Christrophe-Colomb, je remarque que mon pneu arrière est un peu dégonflé. Pas grave, que je me dis, je sais que je vais pouvoir le gonfler à la station-service au coin de Fleury et St-Laurent qui est sur mon chemin anyway. Si je trouve pas une autre station service avant.
Au coin de Fleury et St-Denis, je ne peux plus me conter d'histoire. Je roule sur ma jante de métal. Plus vraiment le choix, j'ai juste à attacher mon vélo au poteau le plus proche et sauter dans un autobus pour me rendre au bureau. J'ai un bus qui me passe dans la face pendant que j'attache mon vélo. La tension commençait à monter quand j'ai couru les derniers mètres pour arriver à prendre le dernier bus qui me permet d'arriver à l'heure au bureau. Mais je l'ai attrapé. Ça me fait toujours ça.
Je passe ma journée sur le terrain entre les averses et les familles juives hassidiques d'Outremont. J'appelle mon papa sur le chemin du retour: mon vélo est toujours ce corps mort attaché en quelque part sur St-Denis entre Fleury et Henri-Bourassa. Un p'tit détour par le Canadian Tire plus tard, je suis au bureau en train de démancher ma roue en attendant le secours paternel.
Pour limiter les inconvénients, je me résous à venir à Rosemère pour que papa puisse se servir de ses propres outils pour venir à bout du grand méchant flat. Je sais que c'est pas cool de dire ça, mais j'hais ça dormir chez mes parents. Je me sens encore comme si j'avais 12 ans et que j'avais pas de vie. Alors que j'en ai une vie, elle est située entre Papineau et Christophe-Colomb, à la hauteur de la rue Villeray. Là je suis stickée à deux ponts de la civilisation, avec un coefficient d'intimité frôlant le zéro, le niveau d'agrément en Australie et du bruit ambiant causé par des personnes partageant le même toi que moi, ce que je trouve intolérable. Regardez, juste là, il y a quelqu'un dans la douche et ça m'agresse! Mais bon, enfin, je disgresse.
Papa finit de me montrer comment réparer un flat et finit en même temps de gosser pour balancer le pédalier. Puis, juste comme je fais mon tour d'essai dans la rue en face, l'inévitable se produit. Je casse le levier pour changer les vitesses. Cassé complètement.
Les Éco-vélos, c'est de la crotte. De l'ostie de crotte soudée en forme de vélo. Après les pédales et le pneu arrière, je venais de casser le levier de vitesse. Dans ce temps-là, y'a pas grand chose à faire. Tu fermes ta gueule, tu vas au réparateur de vélo. Ton papa s'obstine un peu avec le gars et choisit de poser la pièce lui-même. Tu te rends compte que t'as oublié ton porte-feuille, alors c'est ton vieux qui paye le 11,38$ que coûte la pièce. Ton frère vient vous aider pour réajuster le dérailleur.
Pis là, au gré des manipulations, tu te rends compte que le pneu d'en arrière est encore dessoufflé. La patch de clown que t'as acheté au Canadian Tire, c'est une merde. De même que toutes les autres patchs qui se trouvent dans le garage de ton père. Dans ce temps-là, t'as pas mille choses à faire non plus. Tu vas t'assoir dans le divan de chez ta mère et tu fais des compromis familiaux sur le poste que tout le monde va regarder. Tu te dis que demain matin, très tôt, tu vas aller acheter une nouvelle tripe et que tu vas l'installer avant que les vieux ne se lèvent. Au pire, si t'en peux plus, tu t'en vas faire une ride jusque dans Villeray. C'est bon pour mon euh... mon exercice.
C'est à ce moment-là que la nouvelle blonde de ton frère arrive et se stationne derrière les autos de tes parents. De cette façon-là, tu es assurée que même si demain matin, tu voulais partir parce que tu es déjà en train de faire une dépression nerveuse et il n'est même pas minuit, même si tu voulais, tu ne pourrais pas. Tous les astres sont alignés ce soir: C'est une autre journée "Faisons chier Elyane Tremblay". 7/5/2007 Hier on est allées manger des cupcakes.Grâce à la magie de l'Internet et autres phénomènes qui dépassent mon entendement, maintenant, quand j'update mon blogue, ça s'en va directement sur Facebook. There you go. Ça, c'est ce que j'appelle la convergence.
Même que si je mentionne quelqu'un dans un de mes posts, ça va faire un lien directement sur la page de la personne. Par exemple, si je vous expose que hier je suis allée manger des cupcakes avec Marie-Élaine, ben sur la page de Marie-Élaine, il va y avoir un lien qui dit "Elyane mentionned Marie-Élaine LaRochelle in her note "Hier on est allées manger des cupcakes"."
The world really needed Facebook. And cupcakes. 7/3/2007 Haha!Je viens de trouver, sur mon méga clavier multi-fonction Microsoft, la touche avec une lune gravée dessus, et juste à côté, c'est écrit User.
Je ne peux donc en conclure que c'est le bouton que je dois enfoncer pour avoir le droit de faire ma sieste...
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