Later, U.K.

It has been absolutely FOREVER since I've had a chance to write a post. But don't worry, it's because I've been having sooooo much fun in Austria!

I can't believe it's been almost a week since I left Cork! I went to the Cork Butter Museum like I said I was going to, but it was about as exciting as it sounds. I basically looked at antique butter churns in a building reminiscent of a small town veteran's hall and watched a video from the 70s about the Irish butter trade on your grandma's couch. Interesting but not unmissable. After the museum, I walked to the most famous church in Cork (St. Ann's) which has a clock tower called the "Four-Faced Liar" because all four faces show a different time. However, when I got there it was €6 to get in, and I wasn't really in the mood. Oh, and it was raining in the weirdest way. It wasn't pouring because the mist was so fine, but I got soaked instantly. I was more surprised than frustrated that I was sopping, and I spent my travelling time trying to figure out how it happened. As I continued to aimlessly walk through Cork after the church, I was contemplating what it was about the city that just wouldn't let me like it very much. Was it the dreary weather? The unenthusiastic people? The dirty unkempt buildings? Or was it the fact that everywhere you walk you have to manuever around the sidewalk so as to miss any of the giant piles of dog poop that owners just leave on the ground? However, as these thoughts were racing through my head, the craziest thing happened.

THE SUN CAME OUT.

Cork was INSTANTLY a different city. My mood changed immediately as I watched people come outside, and the city came alive. I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon killing time by heading once again to the main streets and shopping areas to see what was going on. The streets were crawling with people, and the town was so busy! There were outdoor markets, where I found some pretty cool presents for people *cough*PHIL*coughcough*, and there were buskers and street performers everywhere. Cork was beautiful when the sun was out. Too bad it was only a few hours before I left.

After shopping, I headed back to the bed and breakfast I stayed at to get my luggage. I still had an hour before the bus left for the airport, and the lady at the front desk offered to let me hang out in the reception area. I ate the half of my lunch I had saved and read some more of The Catcher in the Rye (by the way Andy, I love both of the books you got me... but we'll discuss that when I get back) while the receptionist watched Pirates of the Caribbean a few feet away. I chuckled out loud because it was such a hilarious situation. It got even better though when she decided she wanted to talk to me. Amy and Dan had warned me that the accents in Cork are so thick that they can barely understand them, and they're from DUBLIN. I'd only had a little run-in with that problem before this, but I kid you not, I could hardly understand what she said. She talked to fast and with such a thick accent that I probably understood about 3% of the verbal content and another 40% through body language, which, do the math, leaves me with about 57% percent of the 20-minute conversation STILL completely unknown. I know she was talking about her daughter's wedding, her own birthday, and something about her daughter-in-laws financial situation. One sentence she said over and over was "Tear'p tuh sumtin'", which I finally figured out was "They're up to something". Other than that I'm still in the dark. Bottom line is, if you're in Cork (or "CARK" as they would say), make sure you're really good at smiling and nodding at correct and socially appropriate intervals.

The bus finally came to take me to the airport. The driver was really friendly and asked me a lot about California as he drove me and an older lady through the amazing countryside to the airport. If you have Facebook, you probably saw my status, but again: MY NEW FAVORITE COLOR IS IRELAND. It's absolutely beautiful.

The flight to Heathrow was short and painless, and I enjoyed my last moments of travelling alone. My plane was slightly delayed so didn't get into London until 10 p.m., but even though I couldn't see the city, it instantly felt familiar. It was a really cool feeling. I got my luggage and once again had to figure out how to get from point A to point B while standing clueless on a sidewalk next to a pile of luggage. That situation also felt oddly familiar by now. At least Tia had tipped me off on how to get to the hotel where she, Jaclyn and Colin were letting me crash for the night. I finally made it to the room and was really content with people I actually knew for the first time in a week. We were about to go on a hunt for food at around 11 when I found myself in a not-so-wonderful mess. Heathrow is HUGE and I had no idea which of the 5 terminals I had to be at at 5 in the morning. If I ended up at the wrong one, I would have to take a bus to any of the other 4 and risk missing my flight. Not cool. In a nutshell, the hotel charges a gazillion pounds for internet, Mom was on Whiskeytown Lake nowhere near a computer, and Dad couldn't find my flight online. It kept saying that my reservation could not be found, so I went called the help number. The first time: "We're sorry, the number you are trying to call DOES NOT EXIST." The second time: "The office you are trying to reach is NOT OPEN." Now it was about 11:30, Tia, Jaclyn and Colin had left for food without me, and I was on the verge of tears. The man at the front desk gave me the wrong information twice, and finally I had to decide to chance it in the morning by asking the bus driver. Starving, I ran out the door of the hotel after my friends and finally caught up with them outside of an Indian food restaurant that was closing as we got there, but the man was nice enough to let us order. We took our food back to the hotel and had a four-person picnic on the California King-sized bed in our room. Chicken curry and rice never tasted to good.

I slept from 1:45 to 3:15. London's really cold when you're waiting for a bus outside at 4:30 a.m. However, I made it to the right terminal. Luckily, at 5:30 in the morning in London it is 9:30 at night in San Luis Obispo, and I got to spend my time waiting by talking to Andy and Jen, who happened to be together at the time. I miss you two soooooo much!

I had to catch a connecting flight in Berlin, and once there I realized how much of the basic German I used to know is gone. I found a German-English dictionary and got to studying. Funny thing about Germany... I've been to the airports in Munich, Frankfurt, and now Berlin, but I've never really been TO the country. Next time I'm in Europe...

Anyway, here's the point where I cut off my blog, because the next part all takes place in AUSTRIA!!!