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Minus Bran at the airport...



Thank you to all readers and followers. We survived Europe! God Bless and for one last time- Texas Fight <3

Ashley's Last and Final Travel Tip

Do not attempt to start packing a months worth of mess at approximately 6:15am when your plane leaves at 10:


No need for a Texas Fight here...you get the point.

DAY 33- The Final Hoorah

As I sit in the airport only 30 minutes away from loading that plane, I reminisce on the past month. I haven’t slept yet and nearly missed check-in time for my flight, but none of that matters.

All that matters is that I saw the Dublin sunrise.

I saw light fill the Irish sky around 4:30 this morning, realizing it may be the last time I ever see it.

The girls and I soaked in every bit of our final 24 hours in Ireland, and despite all the craziness and packing and last minute tearful goodbyes of the morning, I sit completely satisfied at the fact that we lived EVERY.MOMENT.

Our day started off to the sound of “Closing Time” (much like our first morning at UCD) belting out of my laptop. We were still finishing up our project for the HSE, furiously trying to get into the city for much needed souvenir shopping.

Steph and I ran around campus one last time, saying goodbye to Quinn School of Business and the bus route we’d taken for the past 25 days.


One of our favorite things to eat on the trip was bangers and mash, so we stopped at Nude for our “Last Supper” together. As I said before, Steph and I are pretty much getting married.



I snapped a few more shots of “last” things such as our bus ride and stroll down Grafton Street. We ran into Carroll’s so I could find t-shirts for mom and dad and some sort of perishable item for grandma. Catching the 10 back to our rooms, we frantically got ready for the night’s festivities.

The whole group enjoyed a traditional Irish dinner at the Arlington Hotel. The hotel is located right off O’Connell Street, in the heart of Temple Bar area, so it's perfect for any pub-crawling or late night rendezvous. The evening featured a three course meal (in which I had salmon and salad, Guinness stew, and AMAZING apple pie), live music and a Riverdance show.


As we sat there eating our main course, music started playing behind the screen on stage. Whipping out our cameras and getting ready for the Irish band, the screen began to rise, and I saw a very familiar face on the other side.

Tom O’Brien.

Tom and I had met one of my first nights out (yes, Tom was the one who drove us home in a BMW via post #4). He was a very nice and attractive accordion player, but I was never really interested in meeting up again. Despite making that pretty clear to Tom, he had continued to text me ALL.MONTH.

Now, here he was playing before us, as I sat awkwardly slouched in my seat, praying he wouldn’t recognize me.


The set only lasted 30 minutes (thank goodness) and the dancers came on stage.

They were incredible. Words can’t even describe the way they moved and the rhythm they had.




After the show Tom’s band came BACK on stage for a sort of “encore” style performance. As our table requested songs and the main singer kept yelling “Texas” towards us, Tom and I locked eyes for the most uncomfortable moment I’ve ever had in my life.

Trying to hurry and escape Arlington Hotel before he came up to me, I frantically grabbed the girls, pushing them out the door as Professor Love gave a “be safe your last night here” speech.

Oh no.

Tom approached me in front of my professor.

Kiss on the check and all…

Once again, Professor Love wasn’t too impressed, but the accordion player wished me a hearty safe trip home and went on his way.

Now, here is where the REAL night started.

We ventured all over Temple Bar area. From Porterhouse to Purty Kitchen to Turk’s Head to Quay’s, we did them all! We ran into unknown Czech bars and ones that resembled West 6th street. Spending WAY to much time at Fitzsimons, we walked down the road a ways to a pub that stays open until 3am- Doyles.




As the bar closed at 3:30, Jenna and I were the only girls left standing. We headed down a block towards O’Connell street to watch the sunrise.

While sitting there on that bridge, James Blunt’s “Goodbye my Lover” lyrics played through my head (Ireland being my lover of course).




So, with that said, we came up with a list of goodbyes, odes, alohas, Slán agat, and all that jazz…

Goodbye Harcourt Street and all the craziness you ensued upon us.
Goodbye St. Stephens Green and the wonderful sunshine you brought.
Goodbye bus drivers of #10.
Goodbye Howth cliffs.
Goodbye Jameson whiskey.
Goodbye morning stories of Dawson Street and the many pub-crawlers we encountered.
Goodbye Irish friends.
Goodbye fish and chips.
Goodbye Fibber Magees of Galway.
Goodbye long socks and 5am weekend adventures with the girls.
Goodbye Blarney castle wine tasting.
Goodbye mornings at Insomnia before class.
Goodbye euros and haggling cab drivers.
Goodbye my Mr. B.
Goodbye runs around Donnybrook.
Goodbye Temple Bar and Guinness glasses.
Goodbye “Texas fights” in the Wicklow mountains.
Goodbye music and incredible Irish stories.
Goodbye to all the moments, memories and overall madness.

And Goodbye Ireland…you’ve been the best lover a lady could ask for.

Texas Fight for life y'all.

DAY 32

Work, work and more work!

That's all we're feeling right now as our PR group sits and creates an entire communications plan-book for the HSE (in hopes that they'll actually take our recommendations and advice).

Siting in the Quinn School of Business for the past 6 hours has not been the most glamorous time for our final days in Dublin, but I guess we realize why we're really here-

SCHOOL.

Yep, even though 90% of the past month has been dedicated to tours, pubs and the beautiful countryside of Ireland, we all recognize it's time to wrap up what we came for (that other 10% of actual academia).

The only good part of the day has been showing off my Pearl Jam shirt (which I've gotten a lot of attention for):


And since nothing has happened in the past 10 hours, I'm going to take this opportunity for some much needed "Ashley's Travel Tips."

Travel Tip #7- When you're on the verge of starvation, and you're trapped in a room with six other girls begging for take-out, DO NOT give in and order Chinese food.

Chinese food in certain countries is a NO-GO, and sorry Ireland, you're one of those countries.

The egg-roll tasted and resembled bog bodies. I genuinely think that the meat in there was a shredded body from the Liffey. I mean, it smelt like it at least.

DISCLAIMER: Please don't let this stop you from having any other Irish food! The bangers and mash, fish and chips, sausage rolls, salmon, pastries and everything else are absolutely to die for.

Travel Tip #8- A huge "fad" for tourists over here is to walk out of pubs with specific beer cups. I've collected a Guinness, Carlsburg, Jameson, and four Bulmers glasses during the pub crawl process.

When it comes time to pack and you realize your collection has reached over five, it's OK to get rid of some clothes so your suitcase isn't overweight.

I sacrificed a pair of jorts (which needed to be done anyways) a towel, and a shirt that I never even wore in the states. This creates more room in your suitcase for that amazing memorabilia.

You'll stroll into the airport at ease, knowing you haven't reached that 50lb limit.

Your friends will appreciate it, your family will sing praise and your grand-kids will jump for joy when the glasses are passed down to them.



Texas Fight Y'all.

DAY 31

“Some folks just have one, yeah, others, they've got none
Stay with me...
Let's just breathe...”

Those words filled the Odyssey Arena in Belfast last night as I stood surrounded by thousands of other Pearl Jam fans.

Shimmering iridescent reds and blues coming down upon us.

Sweat dripping from Eddie Vedder’s guitar.

And Mr. B standing by my side.

The perfect ingredients for a night of mosh-pits, Smirnoff ice and true rock and roll.

But let’s start from the beginning…

We left for our two hour journey to Belfast around 3:30. I had to settle certain things with my professor, including convincing him that a road-trip to Belfast was a respectable thing for a UT student to partake in. Needless to say he wasn’t too impressed, but settled on a very dad-like “text me when you get home.”

Mr. B introduced me to one of his best friends, Liam, who was the BIGGEST Pearl Jam fan I’d ever met. Liamo (clearly I had to call him by his nickname since we were besties and all) instantly became my second favorite Irish man! His humor, whit, and overall kindness were perfect characteristics for the title “Ash’s mate for the evening” (which translates to drinking buddy). That, and I wanted words of wisdom from the talented photographer.


Upon arrival into Northern Ireland, it was strange to see British flags hanging from various buildings. Currency changed from euros to pounds, and I soon realized the majority of the religious population wasn’t Catholic anymore.

Political separation between Northern Ireland and the rest of Ireland happened in the early 20th century, when Catholics and Protestants divided. Catholics desired complete independence from Britain, while Protestants feared living under a Catholic majority. In 1920, Britain passed the Government of Ireland Act, which divided Ireland into two political entities. Southern Catholics rejected the Act, demanding full independence, while Protestants accepted it.

Ok, that’s enough of a history lesson for this blog.

Instead of waiting in line early, we found the nearest bar to start our Pearl Jam journey off right. It was a quaint, Canadian joint that featured hockey teams and fake cowboy memorabilia.



Liamo and I started introducing each other to tequila and interesting after-shots, and then the threesome decided to head into the arena. Things went a bit down-hill from here.

I.COULDN’T.FIND.MY.TICKET.

Frantically throwing everything out of my purse and taking off my cowboy boots, we searched every last crevice.

Defeated and on the verge of tears, I started looking for scalpers to buy another one. Suddenly, a kind security officer informed me to go to the box office, and as they’d say in Willy Wonka “I got my Golden Ticket.”

(I’m still convinced that stupid ticket will fall out of my tights or cowboy boots one day).


Seeking a Smirnoff after the ticket fiasco, we entered the stadium floor, ready to hold our ground from any “front-row wannabees.” I then magically happened to spill by entire bottle down my dress while taking a picture, and realized that the night was TRULY starting off right.




An hour later we found ourselves “riding high amongst the waves” as sweat covered our entire bodies and screams of pure joy collided with the music.

The mosh-pit threw me from left to right every few seconds; expensive camera above my head, that’s all I was REALLY worried about protecting that evening.

But, I knew without a doubt that I was protected.

After all, Mr. B was there.

And as we got within 5 feet of the stage, hands resting on my shoulders, those same thoughts began to cross my mind…

Three days.

Three days is all I had left.

The shear essence of atmosphere and Eddie’s voice shook me awake, and I realized once more that all that mattered was that moment.

The lyrics.

The tunes.

The fact that right behind me was someone that had made my month in Ireland truly incredible.

And even though oceans were between us, I knew that “the currents will shift” and fate may one day “guide me towards you.”

Pearl Jam.

My Mr. B.

I had to "just breathe" at the thought of those last three days.

“Let's go swim tonight, darling
And once outside the undertow
Just you and me, and nothing more…”

DAY 30

The days are slowly slipping away and we’re trying to fit everything in that we possibly can.

We went to our third and final PR cite visit with WH PR- an Ogilvy ran firm. Even though seeing the word “Ogilvy” on the outside of the door caused everyone to go mad with excitement, the visit itself didn’t live up to expectations. Let’s just say the presenter sat around a table and talked about his life in PR for two hours.



Due to this less than astounding visit, I’m going to backtrack and talk a little bit about my favorite PR firm we met here in Dublin- Carr Communications.

Director Eddie Shaw and Managing Director Toney Hughes were absolutely brilliant. They took us step-by-step through different campaigns and crisis management strategies. They showed us different tools for reaching media along with how to deal with specific audiences.

The most interesting campaign they presented was with the Road Safety Authority (RSA). Since 2006 the company had been performing case studies on speeding and drinking and driving amongst young men. They found one of the most effective ways to reach their target was through radio and tv PSA’s.

The commercials were SHOCKING.

After seeing four different tv ads, everyone in our group sat there for a moment in silence, completely flabbergasted at the fact that Europe could put these on public access television. Please see below (viewer discretion is advised):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77MoOl5o5aM&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8V0GpWR8Vg&feature=related

The campaign was called “Speed Kills,” and after it hit airwaves, speeding accidents decreased significantly. That’s what’s so interesting, though. Why wouldn’t the US want to show this type of PSA to young people? Why wouldn’t we want to shock them into driving more safely and thinking before they got behind a wheel?

I guess that’s what makes the states so different from Europe; our over-censored approach towards things that actually matter.

Ok, well that’s enough on that subject (before I go into a rant about journalistic censorship and such)!

After our visit we went to watch the Mexico game at a nearby pub. The team ended up losing by one to Uruguay. Needless to say our group decided that a Ferrero Rocher cheesecake and pub-hopping was the only way to get over our depression from the loss.



After some wonderful cocktails, we headed back towards St. Patrick’s Cathedral area for a musical tour from our favorite tour guide- GARBHAN! (Yes, he was the highlight of day 4 of this blog).

Garbhan took us all over the area, showing us different literary characters that were represented on architecture such as Gulliver of Jonathan Swift’s “Gulliver’s Travels.”



We ventured around St. Patrick’s for a bit a learned about the church, his baptism and the life of Oscar Wilde.


We stopped at numerous places for a song and folk-story. Our wonderful Garbhan is a very talented singer.


Up and through the Temple Bar area we came to the Dublin Wall of Fame. The Wall is a permanent outdoor exhibit celebrating Ireland’s musical heroes. It recognizes 12 artists, which have been chosen because of their influence in Irish and world music. They include such legends as U2, Sinead O’Connor, Van Morrison, and Christy Moore.



From there, Garbhan led us to the Post Office to view Ireland’s Declaration of Independence. It was very interesting to hear him quote the declaration and compare it to the United States.

This is the part where I completely go off my rocker. While the rest of the group headed to a nearby pub on O’Connell Street, I decided to head to the bus station. Yes, I passed up the opportunity to hit up the town for some much needed sleep.

My “Texas fight” rally just wasn’t strong enough tonight y’all.

For all readers...

I'm sorry lads (as they would say in Ireland). My account is being a real pain to post to, and as you know I write then post at a later date.

Final 4 days will be up and running soon! Be prepared, however, because they're pretty wild. <3