Whiskey in the Morning

Last Monday we made the trip into town for the Fitzgeralds night, where we got to know a few of the newer members a little better and exchanged our recent adventures. For me, this was basically just complaining about work, but at least it sounded funny strung together in all its rediculousness. I had the next sunny and very brisk day off, so I met up with Megan under the Spire and we walked over to the Old Jameson Distillery for a tour before she could fly off to New York. It cost us just over 10 euros for the student rate, but it felt a little like paying 10 euros for a drink, since the tour was not very impressive. There was a short movie at the beginning featuring an American journalist in the 1900s visiting the distillery to write an article about it, and then we were led through a few rooms where we laughed at a few bad jokes, then retrieved our ginger whiskeys at the end. A few people were selected to taste samples of Jack Daniels, Scotch, and Jameson. Every one of them said the Jameson shot had the best taste.

The Jameson pub

Afterwards, Megan and I sat around finishing our very tasty drinks until everyone else had left, and she told me all about the program she volunteers for, Fighting Words. She leads classes to write a story together, from school-age kids to adults. I was very interested in volunteering too, but my work schedule definitely interferes since I never have set days off and I’m always told last minute. But since I don’t foresee staying at this job, I’m looking forward to signing up! Writing and teaching at the same time? Count me in!

Enjoying our morning whiskey

We grabbed sandwiches and chips/crisps, then ate lunch on the boardwalk of the River Liffey, with the blue sky and sun nearly blinding us. The water looked silver it shone so brightly. Then Megan headed off to her next volunteering session and I stopped in at USIT to print off my emergency tax forms (Form 12A), since I haven’t received any tax back from either of my jobs yet. That evening we had Heather and Anne over to teach them how to play Dutch Blitz, which turned into a lot of laughing and eventually into Spoons and a hilarious Youtube video.

My work week wasn’t pleasant, but it was also not nearly as awful as usual. The Food and Beverage Manager had listened to my request for 6:30 shifts, so I was able to take the bus. I worked with the best supervisor for most of the week. I even had a half day in the middle of the week so I didn’t have to work in Alfie’s.

On Saturday, because there are no buses, I rode Dale’s bike to work. It took me about twenty minutes. I was very nervous, but the roads were nearly deserted in the morning and I stayed mainly on roads with a bicycle lane. One road is one way, however, and the left half has the tracks for the Luas Line, so I rode straight down the middle and hoped no one would care. Cars did go by, but it seemed fine. I locked the bike to a steel post by the road, but when I got off work at 1:00 it had fallen and was half on the road. Luckily it was unharmed. I walked with Heather to a section of the road I was more comfortable riding along, and then promptly failed to get on the bike properly. It’s just too big for me! Then I went straight over the canal instead of going right, so I ended up walking my bike like an idiot until I figured out how to get back on track.

That night Dale and I watched the final episode of Doctor Who, then booked it to the theatre for the premier of Day of the Doctor. It was really enjoyable, pretty funny, and, as usual, I didn’t expect the ending. I loved that there were kids with sonic screwdrivers that really made noise, one with a fez, a few in bowties, and even one who wore a Dalek helmet. I always enjoy when people dress up for premiers! I also like that I actually understand why they were dressed like that now!

Sunday brought the Food and Beverage Manager down to the floor for the first time, and she immediately pulled Heather, Irena, and I into the office to tell us off for arriving late. We had gotten on the floor only ten minutes behind, and that was because we immediately started working in the kitchen. She told us we were disrespectful and insisted that we not just be at work early, but actually be on the floor five minutes before our shift starts from now on. She didn’t give us a chance to explain. If she had, she would have realized we were two minutes late by her clock. But it turns out she also “gave out” to the rest of the staff for being one minute late on the floor.

The interesting thing about this weekend at work was that we hosted the New Zealand National Rugby team. They had a buffet every morning in a corner of Alex that we reserved for them and their families. Before their match on Sunday the F&B Manager pulled us over and had us stand in a line in the lobby as a human fence to keep the fans back. Even the chefs and cleaning ladies joined. People were taking pictures over our shoulders, and it felt quite ridiculous blocking for a rugby team considering most of us are tiny in comparison. We applauded as each member walked out, and one very famous member paused for a photograph with a fan, which Brendan snapped for them.

I locked the bike to a fence on the opposite side of the sidewalk this time, and it was safe when I picked it up after work. I took off on it right away, and chose to go down Harold’s Cross after the canal this time, which has less traffic and construction than the street I was planning to take. Unfortunately it is also very slightly uphill, which was deceivingly exhausting after a while. But before the canal I managed to make a fool of myself by stopping on the incline of the bridge, then, with a combination of that and the bike being too big, when the light turned green I struggled to get going and somehow ended up swinging around the corner and hopping off instead of going straight. I quickly walked across the road as if I did it on purpose. I don’t think I fooled anyone.

Me and the lights

Lights on Grafton Street

Me and the tree

Sunday evening Heather and I walked into town for Dublin’s Festival of Lights, where they had a crew dance on stage followed by ballet, then broke a Guinness World Record for the most Christmas jumpers in one place (a record Dublin already held), and then lit up the big Christmas tree. We stood in the crowd while the Christmas music blared and watched the judging for the best—and insane!—Christmas jumpers and wished we had our own. Afterwards we met up with Anne, Becca, KT, and Aline for some Hot Wok Indian food that was delicious and well-priced. They had just come back from a tour in Wicklow.

The tree and the Spire

Ballet beside the Spire, and some Christmas hats!

Today work got worse again. It was my sixth day in a row and I really struggled to wake up, mainly because I was scheduled to work even earlier at 6:00! The schedule was given to us too late for me to even notice and ask about, so I had no choice but to get up before five again. Thank God I had the bike or it would have been even earlier. Dale also called in sick, so it didn’t matter that I had taken it. He’s had a bad cold for a few days now and even I woke up with a sore throat this morning. I got to work early enough not to get in trouble, but found out it would be the unpleasant supervisor again. I thought I did well throughout the day, but I definitely benefited from coffee on my break at seven am.

Brendan had told Heather and I the day before that he was quitting. Today he had had enough before his shift ended, so left halfway through. I was quite jealous. But we seemed very short staffed afterwards and I ended up staying 45 minutes late. I flat out told the supervisor ‘no, I can’t today’ when she asked if I could stay on, and I didn’t give her a reason, even when she stared straight in my eyes like she was waiting to hear it. I’m not going to give any of the supervisors excuses which they might decide aren’t legitimate and try to poke holes in just to bully me into staying. No means no. There, I learned one thing from this job: not to be guilted into doing something I don’t want to do.

My bike ride home was much smoother today, but I still chose to walk over the canal using the crosswalks rather than ride it and attempt to get into the middle of the lane and turn right. It’s definitely a work out, which makes me feel really sweaty when I get home, but at least its warm—I’m writing this now as I’m wearing gloves and a Slytherin scarf!

Now I have a bit of a challenge: in order to complete Nanowrimo successfully I need to write five days worth of Nanowrimo words in three days because Barcelona is on Friday (after work). I think I can do it! And I'm kind of loving the crazy story I'm writing, but I doubt it will be only 50,000 words. Again.

Luck of the Not-So-Irish

This week was a bit of a disaster. First, I had to get up before five am to walk to work for 45 minutes because the buses don’t run early enough for this job. I was already exhausted from work when I had to take the bus, let alone from walking too, but Dale was exceptionally helpful and actually got up with me in the morning to make my tea and see me off. It made for a much more pleasant start. However, more than once I found myself running for stretches of the walk in order to make it on time, and one day in particular I managed to get lost. I called Heather to try and figure out where the heck I was and she had to laugh when I suddenly found St. Stephen’s Green…I had managed to get a block past the Conrad. So I sprinted to work and signed in, believe it or not, exactly on time.

A quick picture of Alex, the breakfast restaurant

Then I went to my locker and realized my key had gone missing from my wallet. I was shaking enough as it was! Luckily for me one of the laundry ladies had a spare size six pair of black shoes and she was able to collect a vest for me from the laundry. The tie took almost an hour to make its way upstairs for me, and there were no spare aprons. The female supervisor didn’t notice that I got upstairs so late, thank goodness, but she noticed my clothes. I was relieved that she seemed okay with the situation. I guess it’s happened before. But then she pulled me aside and said I needed to cover the tattoo behind my ear. I had a side-braid that day, but apparently hadn’t done a good enough job covering it. Damn it.

For the rest of the day we felt attacked as she criticized everything. No one had told me that there were almost literal measurements for how far to set the forks and knives along the tables, and she delivered this news by asking, “Does this look like a five star setting to you?” Down at Alfie’s in the afternoon she stopped Heather and I communicating a guest order to each other by saying, “Girls, I see you chatting on the floor all the time. You need to stop.” Then she walked away so we couldn’t even defend ourselves. For the record, we don’t stand around chatting. We’re far too afraid to get in trouble for that. By the end of the day stress was on high and I doubt anyone felt like they could do anything right. Then I had to get my lock cut and am now sharing a locker with her until she can collect a new lock for me.

I spoke to the Food and Beverage Manager that same day and told her the truth about how the shifts were too early and asked if I could start at 6:30 instead. I dealt with it for the rest of the week, but next week’s schedule has improved by that necessary fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for me, the Saturday bus schedule is different from the weekdays and even Sunday, so even though I was scheduled to work at the much more pleasant time of 8:00 on Saturday, I had to hail a cab and set myself back nine euros. The cab driver railed about the stupid buses and she just about invited me over for Christmas, so she managed to lighten my mood a little. It’s too bad the changes won’t help me on the weekend when drunken people are still walking around from the night before. If I can say one thing about this week, though, it’s that it never rained on my walk. It’s actually been quite nice. Also, my back is getting stronger from balancing heavy trays in one hand and I’m definitely getting my exercise with my morning “runs.” By the way, I caught some American guy at work look at me and then say to his lady friend, “Did you know it’s a sign of an inexperienced waiter to hold the tray like that?” I wanted to shove my tray in his face. We are expected to carry them that way because it looks more professional.

On Saturday I walked home with Heather and did some grocery shopping at Aldi again, then she went home and I met Dale at Lenehan’s for lunch. In the evening we even bought tickets for the "Doctor Who" special that’s playing in theatres on Saturday. Now we have about eight more episodes to catch up on this week before we go see it. I’m also really looking forward to seeing "The Hunger Games!"

Dale's new bike!

While I was at work on Sunday Dale took two buses across town to meet with a very chatty lady about buying a bicycle she was selling on either gumtree.ie or donedeal.ie for 80 euros. Then, his first time riding a bike in Europe, he took it all the way across the busiest parts of town without a helmet and managed to survive. I’m actually really afraid of riding a bike on the opposite side of the road through town, but his bike is a bit too big for me anyways.

Trying out Dale's bicycle

I’m currently all caught up on my Nanowrimo-ing, but I need to get two days ahead so I don’t have to worry about Barcelona. In the meantime, I have today off at last, and tomorrow I might be going into town with Megan, also from USIT, for a little touring (and some errands I’ve been putting off). It is with relief that I can say that money, while not abounding, is now under control! And the water is fully and officially back to normal!

Dicey's

It didn’t happen just this past week but I came home one day to find the door at the top of the stairs open. It was completely dark inside, but I didn’t linger very long in the hallway. Not long after I’d gone into our apartment, however, there was a knock on the door. Dale answered it to find a little Spanish-looking woman asking if he’d come with her to see if there was anyone inside the apartment. According to her teenage daughter, it had been left open all afternoon. The woman was concerned that the owner might be dead because there was an unresponsive shape under a blanket, but didn’t want to put herself in a dangerous position by going into the room alone. Dale went in and pulled back the blankets to find a big pig stuffed animal. We all started to laugh with relief, and the woman and her teenage daughter introduced themselves. They were the first and only neighbours I’ve officially met, but she said she believes it’s important to look after each other, which I thought was a very nice sentiment.

This work week had its ups and downs. It was very cold in the mornings, except when I had to run to catch the bus. Last week I got on the bus just after six am on Saturday and the bus driver cried, “Do you ever take a day off?” I just laughed and said, “Nope.” I didn’t have to work with Irena most of the week, and when I did she seemed much more pleasant. The water shortage has also slowly tapered out. But there was a crazy day down in Alfie’s when every seat was full, including the bar. The new manager was also supervising, which meant that we were struggling to make everything look good. It was so busy that there was one walk-out because the guy had to wait so long for his food, and two complaints. Otherwise, things went very well considering. The manager pulled us together for a discussion afterwards and was in the process of saying that with the new set-up the saving grace will be the person doing the job I was doing that day, when Levente, who took it to mean I was a huge help, said genuinely, “Yes, she is very flexible.” I was surprised by the compliment, but happy that he expressed that I was helpful in front of the manager.

What was even better was that a guest from last week left a comment saying, among other things, that, “Nicole and other staff were very friendly, professional, and calm.” I had a meeting with Artur to sign off on my training, and he told me that not everyone gets those comments, let alone someone who’s only been working there three weeks, and that customer comments are very big with the new general manager. This was all very encouraging considering I’d broken at least four glasses at once in front of him (and all the other staff working at the time) and he responded, “Nicole, we don’t have enough of those glasses as it is.” I won’t tell you how many things I’ve already broken in my three weeks...Luckily the other times weren’t in front of supervisors. Then Artur finally took me on a tour of the hotel, although the only thing we really got to see was the Pent house. He told me that J-Lo, Snoop Dogg, and Chris Brown have stayed there. It was no Vegas Pent House, but it was definitely the size of an apartment and had a decent view over very flat Dublin.

The bad news is that I’m not such a hit with the female supervisor. I’ve heard that she stresses everyone out, and I’ve observed that she seems to pick on Brendan relentlessly. Unfortunately for me I was on the receiving end of this on Sunday after having to walk to work in the morning since the stupid buses don’t run early enough. I signed in five minutes early, but according to her watch I got upstairs ten minutes late. Then she pulled me aside and told me my hair was too long. I must have given her a blank look for a second because I thought she might be about to ask me to cut it off, but then she expounded, saying I’d have to wear it in a bun now rather than just a ponytail. Alright, that’s fine I guess. But she was very critical for the rest of the day too, and I was relieved when my shift ended at twelve. I even had a customer who wanted his eggs runny, his steak medium, the fat trimmed, and a latte. I kept the picky customer happy, but in the end he walked out without signing his bill. Customers are supposed to pay with the hostess, and I had been in the kitchen when he left, so when the hostess told me he hadn't signed I knew that it was somehow going to be my fault. Sure enough, the supervisor blamed it on me even though I was sharing the section with a more experienced girl and had never been told to stand over the customer as soon as they finished eating to make sure they signed the bill. Besides, breakfast is included for guests, so bills are rare in the first place. To be fair, the supervisor is new to the job, so she might be stressed herself. It’s certainly unpleasant to deal with though.

Such early shifts on the weekend mean that I have some time after work to actually live a little. On Saturday Heather and I walked home and met up with Anne for some grocery shopping along the way, and we stopped at Lenehan’s afterwards so that I could have lunch with Dale. On Sunday I was able to walk over to Penneys on the north side and finally find a pair of boots for casual walking. I also bought a cheap pair of walking shoes for eleven euros, and a super warm sweater for Dale (with a pattern of maple leaves on it) that I’m actually really jealous of.

I chose this blurry photo for Jacob's sweet dance moves going on in the front!

Then in the evening Dale and I walked over to Heather’s to have some drinks with her and her visiting friends, Casey and Jacob, before going to Dicey’s. Casey and Jacob had shown up unannounced on Heather's doorstep, which was pretty awesome. Dale didn’t last long because he had to work the next day, but the rest of us didn’t get home until about 3:30am, which meant Heather and I were up for almost 24 hours. It was a great night, however, and warm enough under the heat lamps in the beer garden that I was able to just wear my dress—and two layers of tights. There was dancing, probably a million photos, and, after several two euro drinks, some vomiting on the dance floor by one of our party which we then laughed about all the way home. It seems like everyone in Dublin likes to get pictures with strangers. At one point in the night I was even hauled into a massive one and nearly strangled by a drunk girl with her arm around my neck in a (possibly endearing?) headlock. Today I just have some writing to catch up on, although I was careful about not drinking too much anyways. I’m not looking forward to the rest of the week, however, because for some reason I am now scheduled for almost ten hour shifts, and there are no buses leaving early enough so I’ll have to get up an hour earlier than ever! Thank goodness for my second pay check coming in on Thursday. Assuming we can cover rent, this might be the last straw before I get a bike.

Halloween in its Home, and a Water Shortage in Ireland?

Heather and I after a long day at work

Last week passed by in a blur. We had a conference in attendance at the Conrad all week, which meant breakfasts were very busy and downstairs at Alfie’s I was manning the buffet rather than waiting tables. I actually liked this better because the guests were more likely to engage with me and have a few words rather than look through me, place an order, and then expect me to get out of the way. By the end of the week there were a few guests I could actually recognize and look forward to seeing. But a huge problem occurred during the week, and that was that the water shut off in all of Dublin, and was expected to remain that way for six days. It took us by surprise, so all of us waiters were suddenly lining up in the lounge to make the 200 guests individual cups of coffee off the one machine that was still running, and in the meantime all the other orders were backing up. We had to improvise with portable hot water tanks for tea, which eventually got too cool, and in the meantime had only one water cooler for ourselves. All of this meant that we were running around even more than usual. And I suspect there were also quite a few hangovers going around. I couldn’t believe that on an island surrounded by ocean and constantly deluged by rain, that there could be a water shortage, but it turns out that the main issue is contamination. Supposedly only the cold water taps shouldn’t work between 8pm and 7 am, but that hasn’t been the case at all. In my house, the hot water taps haven’t been working, and it has been going on all day, everyday. Needless to say, I haven’t had a shower in about five days. I’m thinking about boiling water in a kettle and using a cloth…

There are people at work that I’m coming to like quite a bit, but there are others that I could just strangle. For example, one of the chefs on Saturday was yelling for us all to hear that we had slept in and were being lazy, neglecting the food orders that needed to be delivered. This made me furious, not least of all because I’d gotten up at 5am, but also because we were one person short, had no water, and were running around doing the best we could and holding up very well considering! I spoke with one of the other team members at one point, and they asked me how I was liking the job. I could tell by their expression that things were going roughly for them, so I was honest, and in return they told me that they didn’t think they would be lasting much longer. Too bad they’re one of the good ones. But I’ve seen them get told off constantly, and I feel very sorry for them and know that I couldn’t hold up long under that negativity either.

Paperbags don't hold up for long!

On Thursday, Halloween rolled around. I was determined to go out that night and celebrate Halloween in its place of origin, so after work Heather and took the bus home—which is costing me too much money, I might add—I had a quick nap, wolfed down some food, met Dale on the bus, and went to Fitzgeralds for a scavenger hunt! In the rush I didn't get to see any kids at our door, but they were all over the street outside. Unfortunately I forgot half my costume at home in my rush—ironically in a paper bag—but to my delight, people actually pointed at me and asked, “Paperbag Princess?” I had thrown together a crown by carefully ripping a MacDonald’s bag. I thought it was funny that all the Canadians and Americans knew the story, while none of the Irish at Niall and Leonie’s party had, just like I suspected.  At that party, one of their friends had even asked if I was a “Garbage Queen,” which really made me laugh. So at Fitzgeralds Lisa from USIT split us up into teams of four or five. To my disappointment, I was put on a team with no one I knew. My team was composed of a cheetah from Calgary, a bloody mummy from the States, a Spanish caveman, and myself.

When life gives you lemons...! (this is Heather's photo of us and Anne, the Lumber Jack!)

We took off running. My team was competitive, although the poor caveman did not enjoy all the sprinting. Using clues, we had to find landmarks around Dublin and get a photograph of at least one team member at each one. Both the team with the shortest time, and the team with the best picture would win a prize. Some of this involved doing shots in famous pubs, laying on gravestones, or composing letters with our bodies in front of a gate. Our mummy was a great help since he was not afraid to ask strangers for advice. One of my favourite parts of the night was getting a picture with a scary Irishman in costume in front of a theatre. The mummy shouted, “Garda!” which is the equivalent to shouting “Police!” Lucky for us, one of the policeman was happy to oblige. I really can’t wait to see that picture! Then we got a picture under the arch in Trinity College, which is daring because the superstition is that whoever passes under the arch will fail all of their classes. My team mooned the camera from beneath it. Which led us to name the team, “Moonshine.” We were the first to return to the pub, with a time of one hour and six minutes. To our dismay, the next team returned four minutes faster and won a bag of Irish calendars and key chains. We’re still waiting to hear about the movie tickets for the best photo though! Dale’s team was the last to return, and the rest of us were sufficiently happy by then. I’ve never had so much fun with complete strangers!

Becca's photo of the group at Fitzgeralds

On Saturday I only had to work until one o’clock because Alfie’s doesn’t open until the evening on weekends, which was a nice surprise. So I slept for a solid fourteen hours. Then on Sunday Dale and I went into town to buy some new clothes as well as groceries. All I ended up with were a pair of plain black flats. My current ones had split from the sole, my old runners give me arch pain—and look silly with skinny jeans— my other flats were growing mold, and my black shoes are just for work. I had been making due for a while, so I was hoping to get a warm pair of boots for regular walking around, but everything closed before I could find a good pair and I ended up disappointed. Then after grocery shopping, we were hurrying across the road when one of the paper bags split on me and spilled groceries on the street. Down the road a little farther, the next bag ripped right in front of people waiting for the bus. I was grinding my teeth by the time we got home. But at least Dale had been carrying the eggs. On a lighter note, starting on Friday I also began Nanowrimo-ing! So far so good, but we’ll see how I do after I get back to work. The radiator has become my best friend because I lean against it for warmth and to help my back. I got a really good crack out of it after carrying trays all day, so I plan on using it as a personal heat pack. Also, I bought our tickets to Barcelona for the end of this month!

Alex and Alfie's and Waldos

A jar for my humble tips

On Tuesday I hated my job. I was up before the sun and running to catch the bus with my throat burning, then one of my trainers had me waiting tables already instead of “running” to the kitchen the way I had the day before. In some ways it felt like a first day over again, except that I was treated like I had already learned everything, doing a different job, the day before. Flaws were pointed out in front of other people, including supervisors, like I wasn't standing right there. The good news was that Heather started that day as well, so I got to occasionally talk to her in passing. I was disappointed to find we didn't get lunches together, and that after breakfast she would be in a different section entirely. After work I went around the corner to Gilligan Black Recruitment for an interview. The woman I spoke to was extremely friendly and happy to hear about my experiences writing, working on UFV's "Louden Singletree," and my overall resume. I mean CV. Damn it, I'm still doing that. She said that although she doesn't have any positions at the moment, she would put me on her list of temps. In general the positions are a month long, but are during regular working hours, and they tend to lead to longer employment. I think my willingness to enter into new work situations all the time is a huge mark of how much I've already grown in the last three months. In the past the idea would have caused me a hurricane of anxiety, but now I actually like the idea.

On Wednesday I felt better about the Conrad job because I crashed so early the night before and because I realized I wasn't so much the problem as certain people were the wrong teachers. For whatever reason, the knowledge made everything much easier to deal with. Plus, Brendan, a recent graduate from Limerick who attended orientation with Heather and I, started working in Alfie's Bar and Grill with me. I got to share a section with Heather for breakfast at Alex, then had lunch at the same time as Brendan, then went down to Alfie's with him.

On Thursday the tips were quite good and I went home with ten euros. By the end of the week I had 29 euros. I have never done any waiting tables before, so I'm quite happy with any tips, even if they would be much bigger in Canada. Irena seemed happy to tell anyone who would listen that I was like a mouse at Alex in the morning, but fine at Alfie's in the afternoon. It was very irritating. However, I do feel much better downstairs because I can walk the pub looking for work when there is nothing to do, whereas there is no room for wandering at breakfast and I hate looking like I'm not working. It must show. I hate having to stay on the floor rather than running to the kitchen for that reason and I don't know what others would do differently. Thursday and Friday were very long days, from 6:45 to 4:00, and my feet felt awful by the end of them. I felt like it was a treat to attend the “Recognition Ceremony” and have a seat for half an hour as they awarded the employee of the month with a bottle of champagne. Then we got into a group for a photo and I was handed a plaque and shuffled to the front of the group. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm on the website already.

By Friday Irena and I were both sick of working, and we chatted a little about what we would be doing on the weekends. Sometimes she would rub my back when she asked me questions throughout the day, and on and off seemed more calm than before. She told me most of the employees go out together to celebrate birthdays and such, and that working at the Conrad is the most fun she's ever had at a job. While all of this seemed promising, and my experience with most of the other employees was positive, I'm still dreading going to work tomorrow. I'm waiting to be told off by the new manager after seeing it happen to two other waiters already. I am very grateful to have a job, and I'm very excited for my pay check on Thursday, but every time I start a job like this I feel some hint of discouragement, as if I could, and should, be doing something more challenging. And not the, “Shit, I have to get out of bed right now or I'll miss my bus,” kind of challenging. At least I'll be able to buy shampoo instead of using the bottles Julie's mom, Louise, hoarded from their cruise before Julie visited us. Okay, I'll admit I enjoyed that slight poverty a little bit because it was amusing. And maybe I'll be able to afford a bike and I won't have to take the bus soon. Anyways, I bought insoles for my shoes yesterday so I'll try to be more optimistic about work now.

On Saturday Dale and I pulled together our Halloween costumes and went to Niall and Leonie's party. I was very surprised to find their house unrecognizeable. The walls were draped in black, spider webs and decorations hung from the ceilings, and they even had a room setup for dancing complete with lit jack-o-lanterns and junk food. Niall and Leonie were dressed as a pair of Waldos. We were able to do some catching up with Fionnuala, and I had to explain my costume to everyone because apparently no one in Ireland is familiar with the Paperbag Princess—I wore a brown pillowcase under paperbags with a cardboard crown on my head. I realized too late that Robert Munsch is a Canadian author. Still, it was kind of appropriate considering I am Canadian. The night ended a little roughly for Dale, and the ten-odd minute walk ended up much longer, but it was a good party overall, and I'm now eager to try my dirt-cheap costume again around the fellow foreigners Thursday to see if they know the story.

Yesterday the time fell back one hour, so we recuperated from the party fairly well. I didn't like having to call in to find out my work schedule so last minute, but was happy to find out I had today off. I'm a little concerned for Friday because that's the start of yet another Nanowrimo! I haven't started a new story in ages because the last one went on so long, but I'm mainly worried that I won't have the time or energy for it with the job. But it would certainly keep November interesting! And with that second wolf spider that I found living on my woolen scarf on the wall safely in the vacuum cleaner, and the moldy walls currently at bay, I guess there has to be something to keep me on my toes!

Yet Another First Day

To celebrate that we are both now employed people, Heather and I decided to go out on Tuesday night to Dicey’s, a garden bar with a nightclub downstairs and drinks for 2.50. She and I met Chris, a German friend, and Brant, a Canadian, after a long walk into town. Heather likes to walk everywhere to save money, and I admire her fortitude. When she and I walked to training later in the week a huge gust of wind destroyed both of our umbrellas in one go. Well, Dale’s umbrella I should say, which Julie already lost a few weeks ago when she visited, and then replaced. It did smack me in the face pretty good when it snapped, though. Anyways, the night included giant coloured balls of light in the garden and getting hit on by Brazilian guys who thought it would be a good idea to go to a movie sometime while Dale was sleeping. Which clearly means I used the lame excuse, “I have a boyfriend.” Oops, someone was intoxicated. It’s just too easy to say! After some moronic and hilarious dancing, we saved money on the cab by walking home, and I did not enjoy a single bite of my falafel. Let’s just say the reverse happened, and I did not enjoy that very much either.

So on Wednesday I recuperated. Then Thursday Heather and I went for our training, which took place in one of the Conrad Hotel’s boardrooms. I actually enjoyed the training, and the feeling that the people at the Conrad really look after their employees. I was excited to think about the courses I could take online for free, and was happy to find that I interacted well with the other trainees. It was too bad that most of them were going to other hotels. We had a free lunch in the staff cantina, and the choice between fizzy water or still on our meeting room’s table. The next day Heather and I walked into town yet again in order to pick up our uniforms and buy our decent black shoes. It turns out that picking up the uniforms really meant just trying them on because the vests were missing buttons. When we got to the shoe shopping, we were joined by Anne and her boyfriend, who was visiting at the time, and who accompanied us to Penneys in search of white collared shirts and black trousers. I managed to find the pants for 6 euros and two white shirts for 5 each, plus seven pairs of black socks for 3 euros. The shoes, on the other hand, were 30 euros. And it turns out they were too small. And they wouldn’t take them back. So with a replacement pair, there goes 60 euros on ugly shoes I’ll only ever wear to work, and in the case of one set, never again. It kills me that I don’t have 60 euros to waste like that.

I spent the rest of the weekend not spending money, which was basically just a good excuse to finish reading the Harry Potter series. I only left the house on Sunday to go for an evening walk through the neighbourhood with some lit sparklers Dale had lying around.

Monday, then, brought my first shift at the hotel. The shift was Heather-less because she starts tomorrow. I geared up in the white, long-sleeved, collared shirt, the elastic-band tie, the name-tag, and the very long apron, with my hair pulled back professionally and my behind-the-ear-tattoo slathered in makeup. Rather than feeling fancy, I felt silly. And later I felt boiling hot. I started my shift by shadowing Irena, a girl who cutely calls everyone, “Chicka.” We were in the breakfast section by 6:30am, offering guests coffee or tea, but not really serving anything because it was mainly a buffet. Plus I don’t have access to the till yet. I was running back and forth to the kitchen to get dishes and drinks constantly and had to figure out where most items were on my own. After a short break there was a meeting for the breakfast staff with the Food and Beverage Manager. It turned out that he was new and the staff were unimpressed with the changes he was making. Some weren’t afraid to say so. We closed the breakfast restaurant with tension in the air, then went for lunch in the cantina, where, despite sitting with a group, I virtually ended up alone because the others leaned together to complain about the Manager. I didn’t particularly want to complain about my new boss with them, and since I was new, it wouldn’t have been easy to say anything bad anyway. After lunch I followed Irena down to the Pub and Grill, where she waited tables and I struggled to find something to keep myself occupied. I wasn’t expecting to be very busy and a little bored all in one day. What with my shoes pinching the life out of my feet, it was with relief that 3:00 came around. I was glad that most of the staff seemed genuinely interested in meeting me, and so my shift ended with mixed feelings overall.

I didn’t have time to relax, however, because I had to go home, get my receipt for the shoes, and take the bus back into town, effectively wasting my 5 euro tip. But before I left the house I replied to an email asking if I was still interested in a part-time after-school childminder program, as well as answered a phone call from a recruitment agency who would like to meet me for an interview tomorrow after work. On the way to return my shoes I ran into Niall and Leonie as they were driving past. It took me right up until they had pulled over to realize who was honking at me. I told them I was unsure about the new job, but they re-extended their invitation to a Halloween party they are hosting this weekend, which should be fun. After a no-go on the shoes, it was a good thing there was still Fitz to look forward at the end of a mixed-feelings day. We met some new folks, and I gave Heather some tips from work, such as, “Never put a tray down on the table.” Unfortunately we couldn’t stay very long because I am quite exhausted and I want to be prepared for tomorrow.

I also made this interesting creation this week out of melted crayons:

Art?

Here it is, tiny on the wall

Feedback would be appreciated as I don’t know how I feel about it either!

Misty Munich!

We woke up early Sunday morning, bags already packed, and a sense of excitement in the air. At least, that’s how the morning was for me. I woke Dale up about ten minutes before we had to leave and he threw the rest of his stuff together, and then we ran through the crispy orange leaves outside to the bus stop. Luckily for us, the bus flew through town, and we got through airport security with no trouble apart from Dale stopping in the metal detector instead of walking all the way through, and the big lady officer saying, “Saint’s preserve us!” in a very exasperated voice. We bought sandwiches or salads, a snack, and drinks from the Boots in the airport, which was a good deal that I remembered from my first Europe trip. We napped on the plane, and in two hours dipped below the clouds and out of the dazzling sunlight. It turns out it was really foggy under that layer of cloud; Germany looked green, wet, and shockingly like home. We left the airport expecting to see taxis, buses, and people everywhere. Instead, there was nothing. Oh shit. We needed to catch a train in about ten minutes, which was on the other side of the small town and not across from the airport. After a little dithering and stressing, we leaped at the next cab to arrive before it’s passengers had even disembarked. I smiled at the driver a few times to make sure she had seen us, but it took a minute to figure out who the driver was because she got out of the Canada-side of the car. We were relieved when she spoke a little English, and more relieved when she made a radio-call and could actually resume duty and take us to the train. Clearly there is no harm in asking! We got to the train right in time, but 12 euros shorter. After we got moving, the ticket collector came around and we could only stare at him blankly. I think that was the first moment we felt how truly unprepared for Germany we were. I still have no idea what he said, but there was a word that sounded something like “tickets” and he didn’t kick us off after checking them. Also, our tickets were in German. Honestly, I'm not sure how we managed to get back to Ireland.

A stein bigger than my head

One train switch later and the views of misty fields and red-roofed houses with long eaves began to turn to concrete. Munich station was hectic. I could hardly get out of everyone’s way to check our hostel’s instructions without getting run over. Eventually we found a tourist information place outside and bought a map for 40 cents. This helped us figure out that the Smart Stay Hostel wasn’t far away. In fact, it was also only a two minute walk from the Oktoberfest grounds. We checked in with a busty girl in a Heidi-type dress, paid for our tidy room, claimed some top bunks, stored our stuff in small cubbies which we had cleverly thought to bring locks for, and then we went straight to Oktoberfest. It was the last day after all, and we wanted to take in as much of it as we could. At first it just looked like hundreds of people walking down a packed street with a few carnival rides on either side. I started to feel like the legendary massive steins of beer must be necessary in order to keep people friendly rather than frustrated at the packs of people who keep cutting them off. So we looked around for somewhere to eat and grab a drink.

More than possible!

The Oktoberfest Atmosphere

The first place we walked into practically made my jaw drop. The so-called “tent” was a massive building with a peaked ceiling and hundreds of people in traditional Bavarian costumes dancing and singing on tables. I felt like they must have gotten onto the tables as a way to fit more people into the building. It was not just a figure or two in the spotlight. Those are some sturdy tables. We walked around the entire building, Dale marvelling at the hundreds and hundreds of chickens on spits in the kitchens. I thought it was impressive how the waitresses were carrying the massive steins at least five to each hand. There’s a litre of beer in each of those, not to mention the hefty weight of the glass itself! After a tour of the building, we found ourselves right back outside, a little dazed to say the least. So we set off for a bier garten and soon spotted one lone table to snag. The next problem was ordering our drinks, but it turned out not to be a problem. Dale said to the waiter, “Two chickens and two beers.” He gave us a knowing smile and came back in minutes with half a chicken each, sauerkraut, and the massive steins, which set us back 50 delicious euros. Eventually a German couple joined us on our wooden benches, and all we could do was nod and gesture that they were welcome. For a while I’m sure they thought we were German because now and then they threw conversation our way and our only response could be smiles, nods, and apologetic shrugs. On the other hand they might not have noticed because they appeared to be a few steins in.

Hackerzelt

Having a grand ol' time

As the night grew dark and the rides lit up, we bought some haselnüsse, which were roasted nuts that I never expected to be so delectable—we ended up going back for more—and then adopted an abandoned umbrella before Dale bought an apple cigar in exchange for going to Barcelona next month, bought another litre of beer each, and eventually found ourselves inside the magnificent Hackerzelt tent. The size was truly astounding and I later learned it could hold up to 10,000 people. 10,000 people who were standing arm in arm on tables and singing at the top of their lungs beneath a layered blue ceiling with cut out clouds looking something like a puppet show set. We managed to get up onto a balcony overlooking the scene and joined a group standing on their benches to shout the last round of a slow German song that no one seemed to want to end. People kept setting everyone off again even when the lights came on because no one wanted to go home, and I count myself as one in their number.

I didn't want to leave either

That night at the hostel I was sleeping over top of a drunken lawnmower. Even Dale on the other side of the room couldn’t sleep because of the guy. It was brutal. So the next morning we awoke poorly rested and wandered down the street to find some sustenance. We found a tiny, tiny sandwich shop with a smiling man who thankfully spoke a little English and looked like a greyer version of my Uncle Dave. I don’t know what I ate, but it was delicious, and so was the vanilla chai tea latte he made. We went back in to pack our lunches, and returned the next day as well to find that he already knew exactly what Dale was going to order. Afterwards we visited the tourist information place at Munich station again and asked how to get to Dachau Concentration Camp. The girl behind the counter gave us a brochure and sent us to the train station, where we went to another information booth and bought an all day transit pass, which included buses, as well as our train tickets for our adventure the next day. Then we needed to figure where to get the ticket validated, so we wandered around until we found a worker, who, bizarrely to a Canadian, spoke German and Spanish. We ended up miming what we were after and he managed to help us out.

Dachau Concentration Camp/Memorial

Behind the gate, where roll call was conducted

Beds in the Bunker

It didn’t take long to arrive in Dachau, but then we needed to take a bus to the actual memorial, which took another half hour including the wait. It was creepy to think that we were piling on a bus to a concentration camp. When we arrived we bought audio devices for 3 euros each, then progressed to the prison. We entered through the black iron gates, which read, “Work will set you free,” to find a huge expanse of misty gravel where brutal roll calls used to be held daily. That particular day was cold enough to make my hands freeze on the audio device and I could well imagine what it must have been like in winter for the poorly-clad prisoners. We read more horrifying information than we could sustain in the museum, including the detailed experiments inflicted on the Jewish prisoners to further the knowledge of hypothermia and other conditions for the Nazi army. Knowing that we only had until closing at five o’clock, we had to move on before we were more than a quarter of the way through. The re-built bunkers showed how cramped and brutal the sleeping conditions were. The fences themselves could only be reached after a steep embankment, and used to be electrified. Apparently desperate prisoners would commit suicide by throwing themselves against the barbs. Behind the last of the bunkers there used to be a brothel, which, to be honest, disturbs me more than anything else. I at least expected the crematorium and gas chamber—which allegedly was never used for mass killings—but I can’t imagine how those poor women must have suffered, or why I’ve never heard of them until now. Was there really someone lower in the minds of the Nazis than their male prisoners?

Each gravel slab going into the distance used to be a bunker

The Crematorium including the gas chamber

Inside the Crematorium

The Barracks

The Crematorium was a stage for executions as well as cremation. There were rooms on either end of the building that were often piled hundreds high with bodies, which was awful to image as I walked through. Walking through the gas chamber was just as bad. It was dark and disguised as a large shower. Even if it wasn’t used, the evil intent was as clear as the daylight that couldn’t get in. Behind the building were two mass graves, which were adorned with carefully pruned shrubs and crosses in memoriam. We finished up the tour with a walk-through of the Barracks. Prisoners were hung from poles by their arms for days in tiny rooms, often never recovering from their injuries. Despite the desperately depressing nature of the prison, there was also the story of the day the Americans came to free the prisoners, and the recounts of cigarettes and crackers thrown to the cheering people within. Then there were stories of German soldiers and doctors who risked their lives to save others in secrecy. Before visiting, the horror stories seemed quite unreal. Now I feel that I have a better appreciation of the suffering that the prisoners faced in light of visiting the actual ground on which much of it happened.

"A Grave of Countless Thousands"

Residenz

We returned to Munich to explore the city and let our minds relax after all the morbidity we had inflicted on ourselves. We visited Residenz, the parliament buildings, but didn’t get to see the little figures in the clock moving about at five. We made sure to visit the massive English Gardens before finding a little pub for some amazing schnitzel and strangely textured cake covered in a warm vanilla sauce. Reading the menu was impossible, but the waiter was patient. Eventually we made conversation with a group of tourists next to us, including a Canadian from Toronto who, when we said we were from BC, replied, “Ah, the better half of Canada!” After dinner we took the Underground to the Olympic Park and wandered around the nearly deserted grounds, eyeing the massive swimming pool and stadiums under the canopy-like glass.

The English Gardens

The Olympic Stadium

Neuschwanstein

A view of the countryside

There was one loud snore from the lawnmower that night, and I nearly started praying. “No, no, no!” but then he fell silent. We had a bathroom to share between the eight of us in that room, but I ended up dressing under my blankets the next morning because the line-up was too long. Dale and I made our way to the train station, and because we had packed so lightly, ended up sitting for two hours with nothing to do. In the end we did Sudokus and tried to beat each other’s times until his phone died. From the train, we had to take a another bus to a little village, where we spent forever in line to buy tickets to Neuschwanstein castle. We took a break to eat German-Uncle-Dave’s sandwiches by a lake, then took a gentle hike up to the castle. It was built in 1869 for King Ludwig the Second of Bavaria. It was also the inspiration for the castle in Walt Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, and was the home of the villian from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Inside was sheer opulence. Nearly every inch of wall was painted or carved with intricate gold designs or painted myths such as Tristan and Isolde. It was clear Ludwig was a lover of stories (including Edgar Allan Poe’s) when we walked through an artificial cave he had built connecting his chambers to another part of the castle. We enjoyed the misty view of the countryside from one of the balconies, and I also enjoyed waving to a little girl down below who seemed thrilled. After the tour, which was incredibly short for the 11 euros each, we decided to take some trails in the forest, one of which led to a bridge called Marienbrücke that stood between two of the most sheer cliffs I have ever seen and gave the best view of the castle as a whole—or it would have if it hadn’t been completely obscured by a massive wall of fog. With a little patience, however, the fog cleared enough for some hastily snapped photos.

The waterfall and bridge above

Marienbrücke (the bridge Ludwig named after his Mum)

I wasn't kidding about the fog!

And with a little patience!

Proof that we were there

As much of the amazing scenery as we could fit in one picture!

Who knew a map could be cute?

Later, Dale and I wandered an unknown route back to the village, and eventually walked up to Schloss Hohenschwangan, a Spanish-looking castle that is now a museum, and was the reason Ludwig wanted his own castle as a child. We couldn’t go in without tickets, but we did wander quietly through some open doors. Mostly, however, we stuck to the battlements, where the gardens could be found. I also found a large frog in the fountain. Then we walked back to the lake, bought a pretzel and a slice of pizza that had gone cold, and then caught the bus back. Unfortunately our train was an hour

The little village

away, so we wandered through the village looking for somewhere to eat, but couldn’t find anywhere that wasn’t overpriced. Still hungry, we got on the train and put our exhausted feet up. We were both asleep when the ticket guard came by and shouted, “Your feet! Is dirty!” and made us jump out of our skins. We hastily patted the dirt away as he checked our tickets, but he seemed perfectly polite after that, so maybe getting shouted awake in German is scarier than it’s meant to be. Or maybe he knew we were on the wrong train, because we certainly didn’t end up in Munich. Starving and

Schloss Hohenschwangan

tired, we shivered on the platform when they told us it was the last stop, and jumped without question onto the next train to Munich. We ended up accidentally sitting in first class on a double-decker French train that fired its way though the night until we were back in Munich in the blink of an eye, and before anyone could catch us. We ate giant grey sausages on tiny hotdog buns and rock-solid fries for dinner in the train station, then returned for one last night at the hostel.

Gnomes

We returned to the station early the next morning, worried that we might miss our flight if we couldn’t get our tickets changed to an earlier time. It was with tremendous relief that we found the change would be easy to make. So we took the train to Memmingen, stuck in a compartment full of girls who took loud pictures of themselves constantly. But when we left I smiled at them and one said the only word she knew in English, "Cheers!" and I replied, "Aufiderzein!" I think we were both pleased with ourselves. We were able to easily find a taxi this time, then got to the airport early for our flight, which was a little turbulent, and by the time we were flying over Ireland, I had a full-fledged, stuffed-up-nose cold. I have never contracted a cold so fast in my entire life. We had an amazing view of Ireland, however, as the plane finally cleared the clouds and we saw the sun shining on cliffs that looked like the thick black lines of a colouring book, with the deep greens richly painted in. Unfortunately we then had more than an hour’s bus ride since it was rush-hour, and we were again starving by the time we could gratefully collapse onto the couch at home. Which was another weird thought, considering it wasn’t Canada.

I love a train with compartments!

The rest of the week was spent saying goodbye to Viv at Fitzgeralds before he headed over to England, as well as looking for jobs, having a movie night with Niall, Leonie, and her friend Claire. And for Dale, working. I was happy the radiators were on at last. At least I got to be toasty warm with a cold. Then I got a call for my second interview for a wait staff job at the Conrad Hotel. It would be Monday at 11:30. I remembered at the last minute that my first interviewer had said I would need to bring references, while the lady who called me hadn’t mentioned it, so I spent Monday morning rushing around collecting the information I needed. I seem to have a good support system here in Ireland, however, and Leonie’s dad Barry was immediately on the case with a reference for the market research I helped him with, and Roisin was happy to say that I was an exemplary employee for her event company. I made the interview with only two minutes to spare. I sat down with a man and woman, who said they usually do three interviews at the Conrad, but since they were hoping to start training on Thursday they thought they would sit together and hoped I wouldn’t be intimidated. I didn’t feel like they asked me many questions, but I expressed my interest in learning Irish since they offer language courses, and I think they were once again happy to hear that. It turns out they called my references that day—at least my Irish ones—and they called me before five o’clock to offer me the job! Now I have my fingers crossed that Heather’s third interview goes well tomorrow and we can train together. After a little jumping around, squealing, and answering phone calls and texts from my happy references and family, the power went out. What? I was relieved to find that it was the whole street after calling our substitute landlord since Catherine is away at the moment—talk about bad timing. We had also just bought groceries the day before and I shuddered to think about them going to waste. Plus, one of the loads of laundry I’d been doing all day was sopping wet. I’m just happy I managed to get the dryer working on the rest of it for once. We went to Fitzgeralds for our Monday social, which was quite quiet this time, and returned to find everything back in order. Wunderbar! That’s certainly something to be thankful for on this non-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving!