A Weekend Of Firsts

A few "firsts" from my weekend in Dingle:

1. Playing piano...in a pub. This happened at Dick Mack's - a leather shop by day, packed pub by night. It's a weird pub with several different rooms to it, like you are walking through someone's house. In the back room is a beat up piano, the girls with us urged Felix and I to play some tunes. I was hesistant about it at first, but when the bartender came back to collect empty glasses, he didn't even say anything about our sweaty drinks on the piano, let alone telling us to stop pounding away, I knew we were okay. As I was leaving, I even got a nice compliment from some guy who had apparently been in earshot the whole time.
2. Getting called a local. Near the end of our bike ride Saturday, after the final big mountain climb and before our three mile coast downhill back into Dingle, Megan, Holly, and I took a break. Some Aussie stopped and got out of his car, obviously in need of some directions. We helped him out and he said, "great, always nice to run into some locals." Maybe my accent is coming around after all.
3. Hitchhiking. Well, Ellen and I had already gotten a lift back from Croagh Patrick earlier this trip, but this was the first time that I have ever walked along the side of a road with my thumb out. It was about six miles from Dingle to the top of a mountain, called Conor's Pass, where you could see the width of the whole peninsula, and John and I decided to get a little help going up it. It took us about 45 minutes to get picked up, but eventually two guys in a BMW helped us out. Then on the way back down to Dingle, we got a lift with a young couple from Chicago.
4. Sunburn. I'm actually a little bit red from the weekend in Dingle! I knew I'd be going through a lot of things here in Ireland, but I never thought to put sunburn on that list. Obviously, we lucked out on the weather, again, which seems to happen every weekend when I want to go somewhere. No complaints from this one.
5. Sleeping with Sven. No typo there. The Germans, Sven and Felix, were my roommates on Saturday night, and lucky for Felix, he walked into the room ahead of us. Immediately throwing his bag down on the single bed, he left Sven and myself to stare at the remaining double, at each other, and back at the bed like a scene straight out of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. Nice. That was definitely a first.
6. Irish-language Mass. As Dingle is located in a Gaeltacht, a designated region where Irish is the official language of day-to-day life, Sunday morning Mass was in the native tounge. Didn't understand much at all, and got a sinking feeling about my language exam on Wednesday, but other than that it was a cool experience.