Grikes and Guinness

We all know that geology is the study of rocks.  What you may not know is that here, so is geography, history, anthropology, sociology, ecology, biology, chemistry, and physics.  Even the word "Burren" comes from the Gaelic word "Boireann" which literally means "rock place."  Basically, over a zillion years, earthquakes and tectonic shifts made hairline cracks in the limestone surface of the Burren, which, with time and erosion, became big cracks.  Factor in some magic from the acidic rain interacting with the basic limestone, and you get Clints and Grikes (chunks of rock, and fissures between the chunks, respectively), Karst features (big things.  For example natural amphitheaters that look like meteor craters, and Turloughs, which are lakes that percolate through the rock bed with the rising and falling water table, forming and vanishing again over the span of a few months) and Karren features (small things.  Spirals and divets in cool patterns on the rock).  Glaciers also had a hand in building the landscape, picking up great massive rocks and knocking them around until they're smooth before dropping them back down in random spots, where they protect the underlying rock from the rain, forming pedestals for themselves.  Today and yesterday and the day before we took walking tours of different places in the Burren, learning about the history and geology of the place.  I never knew rocks could be so interesting!
It's crazy cool, and I have a butt-ton of pictures.

We also went into this forest where apparently Saint Coleman and his "manservant" lived (alone. for five years. together........) Anyway, there's a holy well in that spot, and we went and saw it, and it is what every enchanted forest should be.  And I took pictures.  Also, a goat fell into a Grike and died there, and so of course I fished bones out and took pictures of them too.

Also worth noting, I have been running every morning at 7.  For all you eyebrow-raisers, I have a witness - Johns Hopkins football player and my new running buddy, Luke Sand.  Fantastic dude for any of you lucky enough to meet him.  This is him on the left, and his teammate/program-mate/boyfriend (apparently) named Kevin, matching.

We hiked for four hours today, so I'm crashing now.  Mahony, OUT!

Catharine and Cottages

I did my part to represent America today when I tried to get into the wrong side of the cab [twice], and then marveled aloud to the driver about the speed limit being 80.  The driver (Catherine) was lovely, and gave a running commentary of the towns and landscape we passed.  I think she got a kick out of my pathetic wincing and cringing every time we would blow past an oncoming car on a winding cliff face overlooking jagged limestone with about an inch of room to spare.  That being said, this place looks like the lord of the GD rings.  Seriously, it is all lush, rolling hills with craggy rocks poking out, and the plots of land are divided by hand-stacked slabs of stone piled into low walls.  And hedgerows!  There are actual hedgerows!  I know that hedgerows exist everywhere, not just here, but just try saying hedgerow with an Irish accent.  It sounds way cooler.  Hedgerow....   Hedgerow............

What?  Right.  The house I'm living in is bomb as hell.  It is a cozy cottage down a country road with blonde wood and double-door windows and stone chimneys.  It is so scenic that my head may explode.  I am currently sitting in the sun room (more aptly named the howling wind and foggy drizzle room), wearing a wool sweater, drinking whiskey, smoking a pipe, and brooding.  That is a lie.  Except for the sun room. And the weather.  But I feel like I should be doing that, because that is what this place is like.  I want to take a billion pictures of all this stuff and post them, but I left my camera cord (along with a large portion of my brain, apparently) at home.  During the unpacking process, my new roommate commented that I was "so organized," and I think I may have hurt her feelings by laughing uncontrollably.  But she seems cool, and is from Canada.  She also observes the Shabbat, which is super interesting, and means that all day Saturday she can't cook or shop, or turn lights on or off.  So preparations happen tonight, like making food for tomorrow, and taping the refrigerator light switch down, which I think is v. clever.  

I'm cross-eyed.  I'm going to bed.

London Layover

I spent seven hours on an overnight flight wedged between the overflowing Americans on either side of me.  I experienced an epic chemical battle between the conflicting forces of bad airplane wine and worse airplane coffee.  I got a security checkpoint pat-down that felt more like a third date.  And there is nothing more agitating than the bright red box in the upper right-hand corner of the airport computer that counts down your remaining internet time.  It has been modeled after every time bomb in every action movie ever. 
HOWEVER, I am in London, soon to be in Ireland, which significantly outweighs any air travel woes.  Thus, I am as happy as a sleepy, tweaked-out clam.