living in the middle of nowhere

The first weekend brought the first of many large young groups to the hostel. I would like to take this opportunity to say that I now officially hate groups of kids! Now, before you start to think I'm a complete bastard, let me put this into perspective for you. I live in a small double bedroom, Room 18, in the centre of the second floor. Groups of kids always book out the entire second floor (apart from my room, that is) and generally don't go to sleep before say 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning. Sounds harmless but when they are running up and down the corridors, screaming, banging on doors - including mine on that first weekend, waking me up at 4:30am with someone shouting, "Trick or treat!" - it can get a bit beyond the pale sometimes. In fact at that point I got up ready to yell at whoever was outside. It was a girl, maybe 17 years old and drunk off her nut. She said that she needed sleep and I could see that she wouldn't be able to get any in her room so I offered my spare bed simply so she would stop running around. Big mistake. Not only did she confuse me for someone she knew and try quite drunkenly to seduce me - not the best thing to be doing with someone who's just been woken up at 4am - she also peed the bed and while I was out of the room in the morning, decided to cover it up by doing a bit of "cleaning", including flipping over the mattress so I wouldn't know. And when I questioned her about it, she said she had "no idea why the blanket was hanging out the window." I left it at that. I think she was a little embarrassed by this string of events, though, and ended up leaving the group early and going home. I found this out at their very well-planned Halloween party that evening at the Glendalough Hotel. Some awesome costumes, including a few smurfs and the entire Tellytubby crew. After the party everyone crowded into one of the hostel rooms and were singing traditional Irish songs at the top of their voices until at least 5am. That, I was glad to be a part of.
After the weekend, we said goodbye to Jamie as she ventured off hitchhiking around Ireland and then onto the south of Spain. And then it was just Ryan, a 22 year old Chicagoan, and I. We had a good bit of craic along with fellow workers Maria, a cute little German lass, and Elena, the voice of reason from Spain. After the roughly 2 to 3 hours of housekeeping daily, Ryan spent a fair bit of his time writing his book, and I spent a fair bit of my time proof reading it.
As for me, it didn't take long to realise that apart from a bit of walking and drinking at the pub (which I very rarely do), there is not much to keep one busy out here at Glendalough. I asked about work at the two local pubs and the organic store, but with no luck. So soon I had picked up my guitar, and I pretty much haven't put it down for the past 6 weeks. If there was any possibility of a feeling of time wasted by staying in the one sleepy town and not earning any money, it has been well and truly quashed by the fact that I've made my first substantial progress on the guitar front - having learned about 8 or so songs and written two more - and for the first time I actually feel confident playing and singing them at the same time, something I've longed for since I started singing many years ago. My fingers are actually aching from playing so much, but again I'm not complaining.
A couple more weeks passed and Ryan's plans of staying for at least a few more months changed when his girlfriend was unable to organise a visa in time to come over, so he made the decision to instead return home for a month to see her. We had some drinks for his penultimate night and it would be an understatement to say that we both felt a little hungover that next day. Soon he too had left and then it was just me.
There have a been a few lovely travellers that I have had the privilege of meeting over the time, from Dutch to French, Israeli, German, Spanish, Irish, and of course Australian. The most recent of which being 18 year old Christina from California. She left Glendalough on Monday to begin her travels around Ireland. And I left with her.

Photos:

Me as a Tellytubby, Ryan as a person at the Halloween party

the colours were amazing near the start of my time in Glendalough - by the time I left, this same scene was bare

a lovely little bridge

my mate George

this is pretty much the entire town of Glendalough

the only surviving entry archways to a monastery in the country

the Cathedral of St Peter and St Paul

from St Saviour's church to the valley