Monday, September 12, 2011

This isn't my Ireland!

Still Friday, 9th of September. Today's stage ended after 80 kilometres in Galway, and for the last two hours it was night cycling. My new lights worked pretty well, what didn't work was my coexistence next to the cars. When I had to follow the N 18 I found myself on a straight road, where one could see the cars' long distance light very early and it also blinded me very early, but this didn't matter to the drivers and still didn't when they came closer. More than one time I really couldn't see anything and had to do all my best not to lose balance respectively my direction, until I found a technique where best to look (raising my arm also worked but wasn't enough and isn't so easy to do all the time). This stupid idiots made me so mad and angry. Barely one turned his long distance light off, when they did they did it generally to late, and they also seemed to love it to turn it on again in the moment they were passing me, so it really flashed me – many thanks. Then the traffic became much more, more lanes, more cars, all pretty fast. And still no thought about other coexistence. When I reached the remote area of Galway it was just unfriendly industry, trade area and when I finally reached the centre it was impersonal and commercialised.

Next bad thing: I chose the wrong hostel. I'm not sure if there would have been a right one, but this one was just bad for my needs. Because it was late and I was tiered I took the first one people in the town said it would be good and didn't tried out the two other hostels that were located in the same area – now I regret this. The staff was okay, but the travellers were mad: Brainless drunken teenagers, loud, heedless, only thinking about fun what meant alcohol and entertainment. So after a fast shower I escaped to the outside to have a warm meal, but there, too, all over noise and party guys. When I was in Limerick I also had a weird experience when Dave and I on our walk through the town passed a street where all the night life seems to be concentrated, and it was a real meat inspection. All the girls were wearing nearly nothing – all of them in extremely short miniskirts and tight shirts – it was just all over one type of girl.

Although the city of Galway still seemed to be a party town, there was one nice thing: It was zombie walk this night. I missed the original walk but there were still some zombies outside when I ate my tasty but expensive pizza in a fast food restaurant, and there I also met two drunken 18 year old teenagers, one of them spoke to me and was so extremely drunk that he wasn't able to control his body, the other one was also drunk as he said but able to communicate very articulate and behaved very adult. So I stayed with them for the next hour, seeing what young people do on a weekend. We ended up in a club were the music was to loud to talk. Not really reasonable.

Next morning in the hostel's bathroom I squeezed my forefinger with the toilet door, it hurt so bad, I was shouting and crying while putting my finger under cold water, but the other girls in the bathroom who were mainly occupied with doing her make up were just uncomfortable and trying to ignore what happened around them. I felt so lost in this situation, so alone, so much at the wrong place. When I was able to calm down a little bit one girl asked how I was and showed compassion. I thanked her for asking, but didn't thought about thanking for caring in general. It meant much to me.

PS: Fortunately the squeezing wasn't so bad, I was mostly shocked.

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