Welcome!

Since I was a kid I have been writing stories. Narratives about fictional characters in made-ups worlds, within the infinite realm of my fantasies. Now I write about my real life adventures, about the results of my yearning to see as much of the world as I can possibly combine with a career and regularly seeing friends and family. These stories are primarily a recollection of my own memories, as I am keen to preserve as many details of my foreign adventures as possible, lest the images I try to recall years later inevitably become blurred. As a positive externality, the result may be a pleasant read for the interested outsider. I hope you will enjoy my blog.

Tony Grifone

Monday, 26 August 2013

Combining two worlds

Whenever I am in Dublin on a Sunday evening I go to that place. That favourite bar of mine, where a bunch of musicians play away Irish songs to the crowd's but above all to their very own pleasure and joy. And every time I find myself there, sipping from my Guiness and listening to songs about the world and about Ireland, the rootless traveler in me stirs and awakens. The urge and desire to pick up the backpack and to venture off, to drift from job to job in third world countries, to teach English for six months someplace only to earn my daily meal for the next 5 months by picking olives, to work in a pub at some tropical beach during the tourist season and to earn a meagre living by scribbling translations from an attic in Paris... the appeal of that very life-style -although always inside me but usually fairly dormant- is at its very strongest those Sunday evenings.

And then there's the other side, the yearning for intellectual saturation and a need to contribute meaningfully to the world, to have a career and an income and a professional challenge and the means to support a family later and to raise children, there's all that, that I really want as well and which I cannot leave out of my life.

So there's the challenge, strike the right balance there. And although I would say that these days I do reasonably well in combining the two, those melodramatic tunes on Sunday suggest that there's much more to life than what I am currently experiencing.

It's time to pick up the backpack again, even if it is just for a brief break-away. 

Come and go

A very persistent disadvantage of living abroad and making international friends is that at some point either you or they leave and that a friendship can be maintained at best long-distance. And it is no different here in Baile Atha Cliath as I see one of my best friends leave this weekend. From my very first week on we've met up at least once a week to practise Italian and English but above all to enjoy one another's company. And now it's goodbye but not farewell.. Sara, you will be missed!!! 

Monday, 19 August 2013

Chubs & Fatty visiting

Hurling, Brazilian BBQ, the best of tapas, golf (twice), pints pints pints, Cellbridge Castletown House, more food, reviving old times, catching up over the present, talking about the future... A fantastic weekend! Thanks for visiting lads. More pics will follow as soon as I have been supplied with these!






Rondje Kerry


There are few places in Ireland that can boast of such a feast for the eyes as county Kerry, with the much celebrated Ring of Kerry as the zenith of natural beauty. Alas, such beauty comes at a price, especially over the summer holidays, when domestic and foreign tourists alike flock to the famous peninsula to gorge on its scenic treats. Luckily, being from the Netherlands and having lived in the likes of New Delhi, ‘crowded’ in Ireland has quite the different dimension as crowded in aforementioned previous habitats of mine, which leads me to think that I have witnessed some of Irelands most celebrated wonders in relative tranquillity. And in addition to my indispensable travel companion in Ireland I was this time accompanied by the parents and the least youngest sister who had all signed up for the three day road trip.


Off we went Saturday very early morning, from Dublin to Limerick, which did not leave the best of first impressions by featuring a smelly animal feed producing unit right next to our first and last stop for some fuel for the mechanic as well as the human engine. Having just left the smell behind us it was bye bye highway and on to the N roads which regularly faded into villages with cute colourful houses and bustling market squares. And then, seeing the flat main land disappear in my mirrors, the rolling hills of Kerry greeted us, quickly being transcended by proper mountains. Although quite humble in absolute altitude, Kerry’s mountains rise up straight from the Atlantic Ocean, and let me assure you, 1 kilometre of ragged rock formation towering from the obstinate salt waters is as impressive as any Alpine giants I have ever witnessed. Which has brought us to the most telling feature of Kerry, at least according to me, which is the interplay between mountains and ocean, land and water, beaches and cliffs. And we even managed to secure a particular viewpoint for ourselves, leaving our fellow visitors behind, when climbing a hilltop at one of the most scenic spots along the ring. With our car on the parking lot having shrunk to the size of a miniature toy, the 360 degrees view which was the reward of a short but demanding climb now prominently features as the most beautiful sight of the entire trip.


So that is how we explored Kerry, driving around by car, spending the nights in cute guesthouses, and gorging on sea food and Irish meat alike. Some decent walks Saturday afternoon and Monday morning and the indispensable card games in the evening made it a true family weekend, be it that the youngest piglet was missing. A trip to remember and memories to cherish!


Just as the very best of times are rewarded by an everlasting memory of quotes full of schadenfreude so has the following made it to my list of all-time favourites:

Papa about someone with whom he used to be in elementary school: “Da’s een broer van *** maar da’s echt een lomp varken. Volgens mij heeft die de lagere school niet afgemaakt, hij mocht altijd de plantjes water geven.”



Monday, 5 August 2013

Miscellaneous


My life is moving too fast to keep up with. And I'm not going to cover the past events in as great detail as I did with the marvelous August bank holiday. That is not to say I enjoyed these less, on the contrary, my 4 days spent in France were in breakaway to heaven, and having my fellow trainees over was truly marvelous. Two photos to eternalise these weekends, two stories to be derived from image. 

Exploring Ireland by bike: Wexford, New Ross, and Waterford

Another bank holiday, another excuse to venture off and to explore. Ireland keeps revealing its many treats and this weekend was no exception, rather, it may very well have been the best weekend thus far! Hosting us this time were the counties of Wexford and Waterford; dominions in the south east of the country and a story apart, as we found out over the past days. In stark contrast with the wilderness of Connemara and the mountains in Mayo the southern counties appear more cultivated yet not less impressive in their own way. It’s near 5 o’clock on Monday bank holiday and having just returned back home this is the opportune moment to eternalise this thriving adventure.





















From A to B
Public transport in Ireland is reasonably OK but the less commonplace areas are hard to reach, especially on Sundays and public holidays. As I cannot keep inducing my employer into lending me a car for the weekend Bo and I tried a new approach this time; cycling! We took the train down to Wexford Friday night and back up from Waterford this Monday afternoon but all distance in between was covered on two wheels. Ireland is truly best explored by bike; meandering country roads through rolling landscapes where the reward for a climb is never far away. Our biggest fear was a flat tyre or malfunctioning bicycles in general but luckily my bike repair skills were not put to the test, although Mary (Bo’s bike) wasn’t boosting confidence that this journey should have lasted another few days without pushing our luck too far. The only drawback really is that everything you want to take on your journey has to fit in two backpacks, which cannot be too heavy lest the journey becomes a pain rather than a pleasure. But perfectly well we managed packing the mere essentials in our two bags. It’s actually a lovely feeling to be able to take all that you may need with you in two rucksacks; completely free to go wherever you feel like. James and Mary took us from Wexford to New Ross, and from New Ross to Waterford. Avoiding the main roads by all means so as to explore genuine Irish country side we spent on average about half a day on our bikes, covering up to 50 km from B&B to hostel. Climbing gentle slopes and thundering down winding roads I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. Spot on.    


The Irish
The Irish are generally regarded as friendly and welcoming people, and surely we would agree, but rarely does one encounter such affable folks as in the southern countryside. Very helpful and welcoming and concerned about another’s wellbeing, hospitable and warm, time after time Bo and I marvelled out loud about the more than pleasant stance of whoever we came across in our roves. When Mary’s gears proved unreliable, producing odd sounds and casting gloomy shadows on the road ahead, a local shopkeeper fixed her all right and could not be seduced into taking some cash in return. The bike salesman in Wexford got us a tool for free with which to take off Mary’s wheels, and when I sat beside the road waiting for Bo to catch up a young lad came up to me asking whether I was all right and if I needed some help with a broken bike. Taking shelter from a brief shower underneath a tree a farmer across the road waves at us, making clear that we could take refuge underneath the slatted roof on his grounds, and we were greeted by every passer-by on the winding country roads. Impressed.

Spending the nights

Worth a section of its own, we semi-deliberately picked our stays in order from ultra budget to very classy, climbing the luxury scale as the bank holiday weekend progressed. Friday night we had the top floor room in an unassuming house in central Wexford; marvellously clean and ultra cheap our bedroom may as well have been a closet with a double bed floating between the tight walls. Neither landlord nor fellow guests were spotted yet the small back yard offered ample space to grant Mary and James a secure spot for the night. Grand! A demanding first day of cycling (for Bo) was richly rewarded when we arrived at about 13:00 at our second stay; a lovely B&B amid large trees, stone staircases, roman-looking fountains, and stretches of green grass. 
Our bed was big and soft, the shower small but luxurious, and the sauna well enjoyed! And yesterday, oh, such bliss, such privilege to be hosted in such venue. Although a night at the Coach House cost us well more than the previous two combined it was well worth it. Amid the ruins of a centuries-old castle and its surrounding building the coach house is the only unit well preserved and still is use, and in the style and grandeur of yore times guests get a truly miraculous reception. Canopied beds, soft leather armchairs, classic music playing in the background, and Bo’s best idea of the past three months to buy the financial times weekend edition to enjoy it all to the max upon our return from the city at eight pm. Lovely, to say the least.

Rain rain rain
Or well, that was the forecast. We all know by now that the Irish, or anyone for that matter, cannot forecast the weather here. Apparently it’s too difficult. Bar a few light showers that could easily be shielded from underneath any tree over 5 years old we had brilliant sunlight most of the time. Really? Really. To be honest, the county of Wexford did see its thundering showers of rain, big downpours that transformed roads into rivers and courtyards into swimming pools, but those took place when we were soaking in other liquids in our B&B sauna. What would be more welcoming than a good shower straight from heaven when you are in dire need for some cooling down after 15 minutes of 80 degrees Celsius? Yes indeed, rain as a blessing from the skies. And I could not have imagined a better lullaby when falling asleep two hours later, only to wake up the next morning underneath a brilliant blue sky. The ‘dry warm south’ truly lived up to its name!



Other awesome stuff
Truly impressive was the ‘famine ship’ replica in New Ross, which tells the story of the mass emigration away from Ireland and into the New World; poor farmers escaping the potato famines at home trying their luck someplace else. Boats stuffed with hundreds of people took a good two months to sail to the US of A, with all possible outbreaks of diseases, misery, and trouble on board. The guided tours on the replica boat, incl of actors and genuine objects from 150 years ago made a tale come to life. If I were to make a top 5 of must-sees in Ireland, the famine ship in New Ross would be in it. Definitely.


Another gateway to the past are the countless museums in Waterford. Being Ireland’s oldest city, Waterford makes the most of their heritage and have restored a number of impressive medieval buildings to their former grandeur, now featuring museums that guide their visitors through the city’s 1000 year history. The LP’s top choice, Reginald Tower, certainly did so, and our guided tour polished our much desired historical knowledge of Ireland.



Back home
And quite the marvellous weekend to look back on! The concept of exploring the country by bike is a definite winner, and one to pursue more often in the future. Soon more to follow, more and better!


And a quote to finish it all:

(book store)
Tony: "You wouldn't have the Economist here right?"
Girl: "Is it a book or a magazine?"
Tony: "A magazine."
Girl: "What is it about?"
Tony: "Economics."