End of an Era

There is truly no way for me to put into words how I am feeling right now...but this would be a terrible blog post if I didn't at least attempt it. Global Village Backpackers, where I worked for 2 years and lived for an irrelevant amount of time, is set to close. I received a text from a friend of mine about it and immediately went to my source for fact checking any sort of news nowadays (Facebook) and lo and behold, there were several posts from friends of mine still in Toronto about it. Some of them still living in the hostel, now having to find new digs. Some who are now also unemployed. Others who simply came to the bar and found a chilled out place to hang. It is a sad, sad day.

BUT! Let us not wallow in what could have been, let us revel in what was. And what it was, to quote an anonymous review from Hostelworld last year, was 'an historic dream of a hostel'. I know people may think I am somewhat biased but I have travelled a lot, I've stayed in a lot of different hostels in a LOT of different cities and I can honestly say the GVB was one of the best experiences I've ever had. Before anyone starts rising with indignant protests, let me finish. It is by no means the cleanest hostel ever stayed in, but it is not the dirtiest. There were 2 types of people who stayed here; people who couldn't look past the faults and people who couldn't give a shit about the faults so long as the other guests, staff and the atmosphere made up for it.

Scrolling through my friends and photos on Facebook, the last 2 years of my life have been centred around that place. I can't even begin to list all of the people that I met who made a difference in my life in some way, whether they were there for months, weeks or just days. Some of them were crazies who gave us interesting stories to tell afterwards; some who were whirlwinds of positive energy who blasted through; some who were just simply the kind of people that make travelling worthwhile and who you know you will keep in touch with for the rest of your life. There are far too many for me to name personally (and I would run the risk of forgetting someone!) but anyone who is taking the time to read this will know who you are.

There were good times, bad times, happy times, sad times. I fell in love, had my heart broken, got drunk and suffered some of the worst hangovers of my life. I met some great people and I met some absolute jerks. I made friends who I know I will treasure and who helped me to learn more about myself, who I am and who I want to be. Long live the memory of Global Village Backpackers - it's been emotional.

A Wicked Experience

I saw Wicked for the first time 4 or 5 years ago in London. I was pretty excited until I got into the theatre...then I was CRAZY excited. I'm pretty sure my friend Alan was black and blue by the time we left, the amount of times I hit him squealing 'look at this' and 'oh, did you see that?' I fell in love with the story and the soundtrack and vowed to see it again someday. Lo and behold, it comes to Ireland when I return, opening 3 weeks after I get back. Fate? Maybe. My friends had already booked tickets and I wasn't in a financial position at the time to join them so it wasn't until Christmas Day when speaking to my friend Bruce (who had gotten a ticket as a present) that I checked the and there was ONE TICKET LEFT IN THE ENTIRE THEATRE  for that same night. Fate? Couldn't deny it. It did mean that I was sitting on my own but I didn't care.

The night started off perfectly with seeing Bruce and Eugene for the first time in 18 months, a delight only heightened by my building anticipation for the show. I took my seat and allowed myself to feel that same magic I felt the first time, studying the map of the land of Oz and keeping an eye on the giant dragon suspended at the front of the stage. When the overture kicked in, I had goosebumps before a character had appeared or a word been spoken or sung. For anyone living under a rock for the last 10 years, Wicked is the back story of the Wicked Witch of the West, originally appearing in the Wizard of Oz as the evil one who kidnaps poor Dorothy and her friends in Oz. But what led poor Elpheba to become so wicked? Sometimes sad, often funny and uplifting all at the same time, we follow her journey through school up to the magical moment when she finally gets to Oz to meet the 'wonderful' wizard and her whole perspective on life changes. With witty dialogue that frequently references events in the Wizard of Oz (sometimes very subtly, catching them all is a bonus), the story moves along at a great pace with plenty of action and drama throughout.

The chorus were phenomenal I have to say; as an ensemble, they gelled together perfectly and were ample support to the principals. Their harmonies were on point, the routines were tight and they covered the stage well. I must admit, I was somewhat disappointed by each of the main characters at some point or another during the show. But just when I was shaking my head at a weak moment, they would pull it back with a burst of energy that had shivers down my spine. Most notably was Nikki Davis-Jones as Elpheba; I found her vocals weak at times and then suddenly she would hit a note that literally made me the hairs on my arms stand up. Her duets with Emily Tierney (as the high-pitched and girlishly annoying and shallow Galinda) were great - they complemented each other very well. I was a little disappointed with my favourite song 'As Long As You're Mine' between Elpheba and Fiyero - it did not have the romance or the impact that it should, although I blame this more on the staging than on the actors themselves. 'No Good Deed' alternatively, displayed Elpheba's desperation perfectly.


Having worked in amateur theatre for nearly 10 years now (wow, just realised that!), going to the theatre presents some new challenges. On the one hand, I have this extra level of appreciation for what's happening and it makes me dizzy to imagine the logisitics of putting on a show like this from a backstage perspective. But it also means that I sometimes notice things no one else would, like the fact that the guys running the moving spotlights didn't seem to care what was going on at times. The choice to use English accents was interesting but didn't really work for me, although Boq was perfect as a Scot. The costumes were inventive, the dance routines polished, the scene changes were FLAWLESS.

Despite my slight misgivings above, there is nothing quite like the first time you see Elpheba 'Defying Gravity' and Wicked is essentially an amazing story of overcoming adversity, love and above all, friendship that is always worth a watch.

Moral of the Story - Unfortunately, tickets are sold out for the rest of the run at the Bord Gais Energy Theatre but it would be a crime not to take a quick trip to London to see the resident West End production at the Apollo Victoria Theatre. A great show that leaves you with the feeling that everyone deserves the chance to fly...

Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues - Worth the wait?

The first time I saw Anchorman, I was not overly impressed. It was sort of funny but a little too haphazard for my liking. Over time, I came to love it and learned to embrace the haphazard, zany and random comedy moments. Talk of a sequel abounded for quite some time and I was excited when I heard that it was finally coming to fruition. The build up was extraordinary, with promotions ongoing for what seemed like years. We Irish were subjected to many personalised promotional videos, from topics like Love/Hate to our dear Taoiseach 'Edna' Kenny, as well as an appearance on the Late Late Show (I'm sure I wasn't the only one who would have loved Will Ferrell to keep Ryan Tubridy's chair for a little bit longer). With all the hoopla, and with inital reports being quite mixed, I was very intrigued to see the next installment to make my own mind up.

No such thing as spolier alerts when it comes to a movie like this in my opinion; even if I told you some of the random twists, it would not make sense out of context...possibly not even in context. There's the traditional over-exaggerated inflated sense of self-importance from Ron, some questionable comments and actions from Champ, some more inappropriate (and some of the funniest) lines from Brian and plenty of the obscure and seemingly random from Brick. Brian did steal the show for me a little; he doesn't say a hell of a lot but he is high-larious throughout. Did I mention I might have a mild crush on Brian Fantana? Not Paul Rudd though...must be the moustache or one of my favourite lines 'I gave her a whole Brady Bunch of crabs'.

One thing that I actually really enjoyed in retrospect is the transition into 24 hour news and how the original news team bring their ratings up. Questions asked such as 'how are we going to fill 24 hours with news stories' lead to the team sensationalising stories that are not really news worthy. When Ron uses a 3 hour broadcast to cover a high speed car chase and people eat it up, it did make me wonder if that's how it actually happened. Maybe there is a real life Ron Burgundy out there to blame for the hours of drivel that we have to trawl through on TV to get to any sort of worthy programming. I probably could have googled it to find out but well, you know. Much better to print my own opinions and let some clever person point out the mistakes later!

Moral of the Story - I may have veered off the point a bit in terms of reviewing but this movie will be enjoyed far more with a few beers, or even some other mind altering substances (not that I'd know anything about that) as well as good friends with the same sense of humour as yourself. Not everyone will find it funny when Ron keeps repeating 'black...blaaack' when he meets his African American female boss for the first time. Although I certainly did ;)

Missing Hostel Life?...

I've been home for nearly 3 weeks after living in a hostel for...well, I don't feel like I should admit how long, but it was a lot longer than I would advise anyone else to do it for! There have been a few changes that I have had to adjust to, most of them extremely pleasant I must admit.

Wait, that whole bed - just for little old me? And I get wardrobes? Well, that is luxury. But how many people am I sharing with? None...that doesn't make any sense. So I can come home drunk and eat a sandwich in bed and watch Sons of Anarchy/The Office/Game of Thrones on my laptop without my earphones in and I won't bother anyone? And I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it is not stumbling around in the dark either trying to get dressed or trying to get your clothes together to get dressed in the bathroom (whichever causes the least disturbance). This I can get used to!

Being able to leave my toiletries in the bathroom and the only thing I really have to worry about is my sister using my shampoo/shower gel. Which, let's face it, is a general fact of life anyway with siblings. Not having to wear flip flops while taking a shower is an freedom everyone should be allowed. Except prison folk...they probably deserve to be punished in this way. I also had my first bath in a year and a half, lovely stuff.

I open the fridge, see something I like and I can take it. Without having to search under a pile of unidentifiable crap for the bag with my name on it, open it and realise that someone stole my eggs (this happened TWICE). The first couple of days, I kept asking the family if it was OK for me to take things and why wasn't anything labelled with their names, room numbers and departure dates. Then I remembered that that's all irrelevant here!

The kitchen is occupied by a maximum of 3 other people at any one time. And only one, if any of those people will be cooking. We have 8 working hobs, 2 ovens, a grill, a microwave, a dishwasher. I have 5 different sized pie dishes to choose from and knives sharp enough to actually chop things with. I have not had noodles since I've been home, I don't even think there are any in the press!

Not going to lie though, I do sort of miss the constant stream of strangers coming through. It made every journey from your room an adventure - who would you see on the way back from the bathroom in just a towel? Which kitchen hogger would be using 9 pots and pans while you're trying to boil an egg? Who is talking really loudly on their mobile on the patio/in the common area? Which crazy/creeper is going to be freaking people out in the bar? And that brings me to the main thing I miss. The good old Departure Lounge, where everybody knows my name. And 2 of the most attentive bartenders I've ever had. No one makes a Gin Caesar like Buckethead and I doubt I will ever find a better karaoke partner than Staples O'Neill. Miss you boys!

Moral of the Story - next time you go travelling, make sure to stay in a hostel. All of the above points will make you glad to get home but you will never be able to replace the memories that will be made.

Things I will not miss about Canada...

Lived in Canada for 2 years and as much as I did enjoy it, there are several things I will not miss at all! Some of these I know I have bitched about before, so please bear with me. I have been getting weepy and nostalgic and needed something to take my mind off it...


Milk in bags - I stopped being so pissed about the percentages once I figured out which one I liked (2% for anyone that cares) but I still find it completely bizarre to have milk in bags. I've wiped up too much spilt milk to believe it's in any way practical, it's not even easier to transport. It is cheaper though (not when you take into account the spillage) and it does seem to be the choice for many Canadians. No idea why, suggestions welcome on a postcard.

Drivers/stupid road rules - for what are rumoured to be a very friendly and laid back people, Canadians are certifiably mental once they get in a car. In terms of the actual rules of the road, the most dangerous one that I've had experience of is being allowed to turn right on a red light - in Ireland. we have what we call a filter light for these situations. Pedestrians are still taken care of. Here, I have actually hit a couple of cars that veered around corners and got a little too close to me. Scary stuff.

L.C.B.O. - Complained before about the lack of regular off-licences in Canada. Having travelled in the province of Quebec also, I now know that this is just Ontario as I found several stores that sold convenience store stuff, beer, wine and cigarettes. Fun Fact - I also recently found out that Quebec had the shortest prohibition time in Canada also. They may be French but at least they've got their priorities right! I also take issue with the 2am closing time which is standard across the province. Only place to get a late drink is at illegal after hours bars. Very expensive and dodgy as all hell; I only went once...

Poutine - I've got to admit, as often as I've eaten it, I'm really not a fan. It's far from cheese curds I was reared, I tell ya. There are certain places that I will eat it from - I enjoy the chicken curry poutine at the Firkin, pulled pork poutine from Smokes but in most other places I pick the curds out or, if Useless Ben is going for me, he will ask for chips and gravy (and get some weird looks in the meantime). Proper bastardisation of a Canadian dish and I'm sorry. Looking forward to a proper plate of curry chips!

Shovelling Snow - I will also include the general cold as f#*k winters here. And I was only in Toronto, not real Canada where it gets proper cold. Working in the city centre, we had a responsibility to clear and salt the sidewalk and knock out any icicles that were hanging off the side of the building. I will not miss that. Starting a shift at 7am, especially if hungover, popping out to shovel snow, drop some salt and half an hour later you'd have to do it again. Maybe I wasn't very good at it. Standing in the street, halting pedestrians while someone hung out a window knocking icicles from the drain pipes with some sort of shovel or brush. OK, I'll almost miss that one.


Tim Hortons Coffee - I don't care if it's cheap, it is actually pretty horrible. Those jalapeno bagels were my favourite though, and apart from the odd dodgy speciality flavour (those pumpkin ones were dire) a box of Timbits were always guaranteed to elicit a smile.

Smoking Laws - whatever about a smoking ban, which I can obviously deal with, but the weird stuff like having to smoke 9 metres away from an entrance always felt strange. Certain places would not allow you to smoke on their patio if they had an awning that belonged to another part of the building. Some bars had patios that you could only smoke on if you were sitting down, etc. Give me the glass box in Fitzgeralds anyday.

Moral of the Story - sometimes it can be easy when you leave a place or situation to look back and see it all through rose-tinted glasses, if you will. The annoying things will stick out for a bit but the good memories will last a hell of a lot longer.

Big East Tour - Day 3

Guess now is about time that I should talk about the people that were on the tour with me - the great thing about Moose Travel Tours is the smaller groups that they take. We had 12 on ours and while there usually seemed to be a variety of nationalities on the tours, ours was 5 Irish, 5 Australians and 2 Kiwis. Even 2 days in, you could see the differences emerging - half the tour group seemed more interested in drinking each city than seeing the actual sights. Luckily, I managed to fit into both groups relatively well! The bus wasn't the most luxurious mode of transport but it suited our purpose perfectly. They have also designed most of the routes so that you're never in the van for more than 3 hours at a time generally.

Hence why we stopped at Montmorency Falls just outside of Quebec City on our way from Montreal. I'm a huge fan of water and water features (I am crazy about fountains that you get in parks and stuff. I got a lot of great fountain pics from this tour!) so even though it's just a load of water, I was happy to wander off and my own and just watch. It is actually higher than Niagara Falls (barely a fraction as wide obviously) and as you cross the bridge over it, you can see the City of Quebec in the distance. We did manage to see a rainbow in the churning water at the bottom - seemed to be a bit of a theme on the trip, reckon I saw 6 or 7 rainbows over the course of the week.

Once we got into Quebec City, I had an eerily familiar feeling. The old style cobbled streets, little traffic, flags and bunting everywhere - felt just like an European city. One particular street actually looked just like Kilkenny city for some reason... We went for a little bit of a walk around, to get our bearings and stopped for some ice cream at a spot our guide recommended. Being the morbid lot we are, we got our ice cream and went to sit in a graveyard to eat it. I love graveyards as much as I love water features strangely enough. We passed by the amazing Chateau Frontenac, built in the late 19th century as a stop over for Canadian Pacific Railway travellers. It has hosted many famous people and was the headquarters for the Quebec Conferences towards the end of World War 2 in 1944.

A couple of us decided to do a ghost tour that evening. Our guide recommended a company, Les Visites Phantomes du Quebec that she had used before (although she hadn't been a huge fan of the guide that they had). Our guide, Emile, was great; he knew a lot about the city in general, historically and architecturally and shared a lot of that as well as his spooky tales from years and years ago. It was all sort of creepy coincidence stories until we got to St Andrews Church. 10 of us walked in, led by me holding a candle (the only light in the church apart from the dim lights from the street) and Emil proceeded to tell us, probably not even the scariest stories of the night but things seem a lot creepier in a dead quiet church with nothing but the sound of your own breathing and flickering shadows on the wall from the only candle there... I saw at least 3 ghosts that night. Well worth it though. Popped out for a couple of drinks to steady the nerves after and stumbled upon an improv night in one bar. Totally in French obviously. I pretended to laugh along with the rest despite having next to no idea what was going on.

Moral of the Story - Don't go on a ghost tour in a strange city and then head back to a creepy hostel that looks like it might have been an old hospital back in the day...did not sleep overly well that night I'll tell you!

Big East Tour - Day 2

Waking up with a hangover in a brand new city is not fun. I think everyone will agree with me on that. Still, I managed to power through (although it did take me nearly 3 hours to actually get myself ready to leave the hostel). We decided to head for the old town, which would bring us on a walk through most of the downtown anyway. Vieux Montreal is a very beautiful spot; with it's old cobbled streets and European style architecture, it felt so familiar. I did get quite narcissistic and take one of my favourite photos with the Rue St Helene sign (not quite my name but close enough!).

I really wanted to get a smoked meat sandwich (as per everyone's instructions) but I went for a full smoked meat poutine to soak up the previous night's alcohol. For anyone who doesn't know, poutine is basically chips, cheese and gravy. Originally from the province of Quebec, they call it French fries, gravy-like sauce and cheese curds (the squeakier the better). I got a Bloody Caesar to complement it - again, quick explanation of this Canadian delicacy; essentially a Bloody Mary but they use Clamato juice instead of tomato juice. Yes, this is clam and tomato juice. Yes, it sounds disgusting and it did take me a long time to get a taste for it. The trick is to get it extra spicy with gin instead of vodka. Best hangover cure ever. The picture does not do it justice at all, I'm well aware.

Took a stroll through the mains square with a huge statue dedicated to the alleged founder of Montreal, Paul de Chomeday de Maisonneuve, who came along in 1642 to settle the island of Montreal for the French. The square is beautiful and dominated by the Notre Dame Basilica, which was actually designed in large part by an Irish Protestant architect called James O'Donnell. There is a $5 charge to get into the church during the day, $10 to get in for the impressive light and sound show that animates the history of the basilica itself as well as Ville-Marie de Montreal.

From there I headed down to the Places Jacques Cartier and the old port, then headed up to the Parliament Buildings, through Chinatown and right up through McGill University, hitting at least 5 other beautiful churches on the way. I was making my way to Mont Royal, the hill that overlooks the city. One of the major attractions here is Mount Royal park, which was originally planned by the same guy who did Central Park. There is a cross that looks down over the city, symbolic of the wooden cross set up there by good old Maisonneuve as a thank you to God for not drowning the entire city during some major flooding in 1643. I didn't quite make it up that high but I did get as far as the Kondiaronk Belvedere and managed to take this beautiful shot.

At that point, I was completely exhausted. I went to meet up with a friend of mine in a Shisha bar to the east of the city and by the time I got back to the hostel, all I was able for was my not super comfortable hostel bed. Almost a lame way to end my time in Montreal but I feel that I saw everything I wanted to see. Apart from Eggs and Legs, the almost unbelievable strip club that serves an all day breakfast buffet while lap dances are happening. Eggs and legs baby.

Moral of the Story: Travelling hungover is not the way forward but sometimes it forces you to make more of an effort. Like sweating the shit out of your hangover by walking up a mountain (or a hill, whatever, it was tough).