It's been said, "many an opportunity is lost because a man is out looking for four-leaf clovers."

Lucky for me I only feel the need to look for those gems on St. Patty's Day (no judgment if your preferences aren't the same). Also lucky for me, I spent this year's in Ireland. So I didn't have to look very far. They were on every restaurant menu, store window, and child's painted face--including my own.







Spending this holiday in Dublin was insanely festive. They really pulled out all the stops with decorations (most buildings changed out their light bulbs for green ones!), park carnivals, street clog dancing, and the most bizarre parade I've ever experienced. I was thinking high-school marching bands and floats....but it was more like interpretive dancers in creepy, artsy costumes that seemed to last eons of times and was a lot like this (sorry Mom). Except times a thousand. I had to leave early and grab lunch before I became too disturbed.



They DO do the holiday right, though. Especially when we drove to a more village-y like place called Kilkenny and spent the entire evening circulating through their four pubs and following fighting, intoxicated couples for sheer amusement. The Irish go out hard. In fact, I was a little bit surprised that we saw so many people when out and about the next morning.


The sites here were gorgeous; though after watching movies like P.S. I Love You, would you expect anything less or different?





This trip documentation wouldn't be complete without mentioning:
1. The six-pack of apples I consumed EVERY DAY for just 79 pence.
2. The discovery of the best tv channel ever (the Vault), who played an endless amount of my childhood's most beloved music videos (that I used to record on blank vhs tapes and dance to in my bedroom for hours). So what if I still do.
3. Brenden's Abe Lincoln/Elf & Mike's Leprechaun with an Asian-Tourist-Twist costumes. The people of Dublin loved them. They were asked for numerous pictures. I felt like I was with US Magazine's most revered celebrities.
4. Brazen Head Pub and the satisfying salmon I consumed there--thank you program funds.
5. The Falling Gems game app I was introduced to and now can't put down. I always refused to allow myself to download AngryBirds, but I think this is pretty comparable in addiction potential. Download with caution.

Oh, and upon arrival we made a little stop at Guinness. (Not the world's most prestigious record keeping title--the other one.)


It all makes sense after seeing it in SO much action.

Cwtch.

A Welsh word. Do not bother asking me how it is pronounced. Apparently the Welsh language feels no need for vowels, and therefore must have another winning strategy for the games of Hangman and Wheel of Fortune.
                                                                                                      ....They'd have to, right??


Just a few snippets from my recent trip to Wales:


The most savage winds I've ever encountered. We are talking human movable winds.


Monastic ruins of Tintern Abbey. Pretty, pretty. I'm not peeing my pants, in case you were curious.


Exploring cute new towns.

And fitting in the modeling work we do on the side...

*Not pictured: An excursion into the very dark shafts of Big Pitt, a coal mine. Definitely the highlight of the entire trip, mostly because a) how many people can say they've done that, and b) our 60-something old tour guide Robert was a hoot....and I developed quite the serious crush on him.


P.S. This is my 100th post! It's been an inconsistent and (I realize) a prolonged journey, but it's kind of crazy to me to think that I started this out as a sophomore in high school, hoping to someday be a Cougar at BYU.....to now being a sophomore Cougar at BYU. Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra.

Westminster and St. James's.

There's something so indulging about looking at Big Ben. I haven't quite put my finger on it yet--if it's the gold anatomy, the quintessential London tourist fulfillment, or the political/aristocratic heritage of the vicinity, but it really does something for me. It doesn't even matter how many times I go to see it.

This walk takes you in a circular path around Houses of Parliament, Whitehall, 10 Downing Street (the abode of Mr. Prime Minister), Buckingham Palace, St. James's Park, and Westminster Abbey. It's basically the celebrity home tour of England. It's great fun. Sharon, Kaylee, and I (we started a walking crew if you hadn't noticed..) didn't feel like we were doing a required walk at all.



I've come to view Big Ben like one of my favorite movies that I'll never tire of. It was great this time around, and I'm sure he will be great the next ten times I walk around too, as I'm confident I will do before I leave.

Kilt.

      -noun; a costume sometimes worn by Scotchmen in America and Americans in Scotland.

        Obviously it's the latter I'm talking about here--to get in touch with my Scottish heritage.

                                                                 My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
                                                                 My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
                                                                 A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
                                                                 My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
                                                                           -Robert Burns

Scotland is such a pretty place. Green everywhere. Endearing accents everywhere. Friendly people everywhere. Basically, happiness to be found everywhere.



According to my family history, I'm practically royal. Mary Queen of Scots is (or was?) my great, great, great, greattttt-something grandmother, ergo you could say I'm kind of a big deal.

I'm totally kidding. But seriously, I felt a deep kinship to this place. The name Walker was everywhere and considering I spent my entire life relentlessly being told I came from outer space (the UFO one), I found comfort and identity being among my true people.
                          
                                             .........You can excuse my obvious exaggeration.


I just really did have a lot of fun. Especially when Blake & Ramzi were man enough to embrace their inner-Mel Gibson/William Wallace and when I got to see my resemblance to the nine-month-old grandmother queen.









(the Edinburgh Castle.)



We also had the opportunity to stop in New Lanark, a cotton mill of the 18th, 19th, & 20th centuries. I toured the factory, their small homes, learned of the conditions of daily life. It was an eye-opener. And to think that even this, which appeared pretty bleak to my vain eyes, was the utopia that people of the working class status could only dream of being so fortunate of arriving to (thanks to the philanthropoist Robert Owens). Small one-bedroom homes for a family of six children. Working hours of 5am-8pm. A childhood spent not playing, but working. Crazy. But I didn't mean to turn this into a history lesson...


As the Scottish say, aye.




P.S. I should mention that these aren't my pictures. Thanks, Brenden!

Kew to Hammersmith.

I'll be honest, this wasn't my favorite. The last three-fourths walking through an American-like suburban housing development and the much too prolonged stroll down the less commercial parts of the Thames River were disappointing. However, I did make three fairly important observations.

1. The area around Kew station is where I would chose to live, if by some odd miracle of fate I had the chance to do that here. It's the perfect place; it's far enough from the busy parts of the city but close enough to still be in the city, if that makes sense. There was an artsy, almost small-village like vibe about it that was only enhanced with its presence of young couples and families wandering into the charming family-run stores. 

2. Kew is an interesting name. How do names and words come about anyway? How do languages emerge into the established systems they become? I mean, Chinese calligraphy makes sense. They drew pictures of what they saw. But words. Kew. Hammersmith. Haley. It's like I'm seeing these for the first time. It's weird.

3. Anything, and I really mean anything, can be made into a good time when someone runs into a pole unexpectedly. Kaylee, acting again as the leader, was looking at her book to brush up on coming directions when she walked right into one. We all stopped, not really sure if it had really happened, but then got caught up in five-minutes worth of rolling laughter. You should have someone try it. It was great fun, for us observing at least.

Regent's Park.

"Mind over matter." That's what I had to keep telling myself when this walk started out with a hike up the only fraction of elevated land to be found in this great city. There was a man doing his cardiovascular regimen up and down it, wheezing like a man about to die, so you can understand my initial qualms. I booked it to the top, probably giving the man a run for his money, (maybe), but only because I wanted to get the ordeal over with and eat my pb&j atop Primrose Hill, overlooking a pretty stellar panorama view. I had never realized until looking across that fine landscape of green and blue that all the major elements of the city are that close close to each other. The subway is a tricky work of magic; it totally threw off my perception of space. I can easily walk everywhere my heart so desires and squeeze some of my own exercise in, while also.....this is a tangent. Moving on.

I really enjoyed this walk. It took us through a cute, trendy shopping area (where rumor has it, Jude Law resides) and through the beauties of Regent's Park, which made me quite reminiscent of my days in Central Park (the New York one) simply because it had a little something to offer to everyone, besides the obvious satisfaction in walking. Is that a run-on sentence? Sorry. There was a boating house, open theaters, duck ponds, football fields (the soccer version), and a zoo. I would have said they only needed to add an ice-skating rink to be complete, but truth is, I really enjoyed the sight of the first spring flowers blooming in Queen Mary's Park. The last portion led us through a posh neighborhood, which I'm about 74 and a half % positive is where they filmed The Parent Trap. Maybe 75 and a fourth % positive.

I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.

The program gave us one week to go and do whatever we so desired.
I chose to backpack my way through the more subtle/less romanticized areas of Europe that I otherwise probably would have never had the opportunity to see.


Germany & the Czech Republic. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.

Berlin.

The flight was an adventure in and of itself, dealing with the super strict packing regulations of such a cheap airline (that being Ryanair). Everyone in our program came back with horror story after horror story of liquids being thrown away, having to pay an exorbitant amount for an extra bag, wearing four layers of pants, etc. I had the good fortune of being paired with a TSA (do they call them that here?) agent that was blonde and in his young twenties. He took me to the side and was like, "okay, here's the deal. Your plastic bag is too big. They were about to throw everything away before I took it so hurry and put it in your bag before they see!!"

I wish I had a phone number to give. I knew right then and there that it was the foreshadowing omen of a good trip.

In our efforts to find something to eat for dinner at eleven at night, we found instead a kareoke bar. Perfect for Mike's birthday. The TERRIBLE male attempt at singing "I Want It That Way" by a german/asian Backstreet Boy meant we couldn't resist going in. And okay.....I guess I wanted the opportunity to show my perfected "Oops I Did It Again" number too. Completed with the music video dance, I'll have you know.

It was crazy to walk through a city that in some ways, still seems to be recovering. Checkpoint Charlie, and the Brandenburg Gate were surreal experiences.

More than anything though, when I think of Berlin, I think of the surprising urban culture. The graffiti art was insane. I wrote my name on the Berlin Wall with the only thing I had-- black nail polish. Actually, I did it twice because it turned out really sloppy the first time around and I couldn't accept that as my debut/legacy. Spring's still looked better than mine.








Prague.

I kid you not, the prettiest place I've ever been in my entire life. It trumps everything these eyes have ever seen--even Nick Lachey's face. I would be walking on narrow cobblestone roads that would be surrounded by the most intricate, old buildings that would then open up into these gorgeous squares with eclectic covered markets and have my breath taken from me. Literally.

It was untouched/unruined during the wars, which is pretty incredible considering it is surrounded by the key European players of the day.









That night we couch surfed at a stranger's apartment--a new experience for me. His name was Martin. He was about fifty-five and was a Czech research scientist/possible spy. His place was like some place straight out of That 70's Show. He spoke German, English, Dutch, and Czech. He could read Braille. He wore bell-bottoms and old, wool sweaters. He had a blind son. We accidentally came across naked pictures of him as a child in the 1,939,398 photo albums he had kept in the apartment, at our disposal to peruse through. Brenden wore his clothes to dinner.


Munich.

What would a trip to Germany be without visiting Dachau, a concentration camp.
It was so eery. You couldn't help but feel disgusting, dark, and heavy.
The gas chambers. The cramped beds. The cold! The cremation ovens. I'm literally baffled that people could be so cruel....and that the Jewish people could be so brave and enduring to face it.






We also took a train up into the mountains to see Neuschwanstein Castle--the castle that Disney modeled after! It was King Ludwig's project/obsession....it made him so crazed that he even committed suicide during it's construction. And I was there! And I saw why. I felt like a princess and wanted to climb to the top of the tower and let my hair down.



Like, oh-my-valley-girl yes, it was the best week of my life ever. I can't say enough good things about it, the places, or the people I was with. It made for oodles of lasting memories, not limited to:
-a photo shoot in the futuristic subway systems of Munich.
-the german television we fell asleep to.
-an endless consumption of Haribo candy. (I'm a fan.)
-walking more than I ever have in my life.
-passing out on trains & buses.
-Goulash soup.
-a great, ending-celebratory German feast.
-lots of group cuddling.
-the very confusing Czech koruna.
-the very confusing language barriers in general.
-an attack of gypsies.
-too many bratwurst wieners.
-kofola, the communist rival of coca-cola.
-"NEIN!" to a charging chicken.
-having the back of my heels rubbed raw from inadequate socking.
-wearing the same outfit EVERYDAY.
-being treated to the first nice meal I've had in months, by Mike's family friends. (Thank you!)
-the scary witch dolls that came to life.
-feeling cool by saying "danke", the only German word in my repertoire.