Sunday, 21 June 2009
Just because
Márai Sándor: Funeral Oration
‘With your very eyes, my brethren, see what in truth we are:
We are but dust and ashes.’
Like pieces of old cloth our memories fall apart.
Do you still have St Margaret’s Isle by heart?
It is all odds and ends now, splinters, fusty lumber.
The dead man’s beard has grown, your name is just a number.
Our language, torn, frays too; the loved words we so trust
Under the roof of the mouth dry out, turn to dust.
‘Butterfly’, ‘pearl’ and ‘heart’ are not what they used to be
When the poet drew his language from his near family,
And his song was understood as the nurse’s lullaby
Is by the drowsy child, who’s fractious, ready to cry.
The heartbeat’s a secret speech, dreams go the thieves’ way,
You read Toldi to your child, who then responds: ‘OK.’
And the priest will mumble in Spanish over your bier:
‘These are the torments of death, and they surround me here!’
In the Ohio mine your hand slips, the pickaxe
Thuds down and your name loses its diacritical marks.
The Tyrrhenian Sea roars, we hear Babits’ word and, hark,
That’s Krudy’s harp that twangs in the Australasian dark.
They still communicate in astral voices, live
In your body’s memory like distant relatives.
You exclaim: It cannot be that consecrated will…
But it can: you know it now… You get no mail
In the iron-mines of Thuringia. To write they are afraid.
With no katorgas marked, you cannot mourn the dead.
The Consul’s chewing gum. Fed up, he wipes his glasses.
You can see that he’s quite bored with papers, stamps and passes.
He gets a car and a thousand bucks a month. His child and wife
Are photos on his desk. What’s Ady in his life?
What’s a nation? A millennium? The arts that we inherit?
Rippl’s colours? Arany’s words? Bartók’s restless spirit?
It can’t be that so many hearts in vain… Be quiet. It can.
The great powers at great length talk on and on.
Be silent and keep watching. The jackal is alive
Whose ten small claws will scratch you from your African grave.
In Mexico there’s already a cactus growing too
That will cover your tombstone, so none can look for you.
You think you’re alive? Have you somewhere to live? If nowhere,
In your brethren’s hearts…? Oh no, it is all just a nightmare.
You still hear the hoarse complaint: Brother has sold brother.
A faint voice interrupts: Keep your lips sealed together.
A third voice sighs: Lest those who lament us far away…
And a fourth rattles: …are forced to despise us day by day.
So: Keep on smiling. Don’t seek reasons. Do not ask, ‘Was I
Worse than the others.’ You were a Magyar, that is why.
And Estonian, Lithuanian, Romanian. Now keep silent and pay.
The Aztecs have gone as well. Let come what come may.
A scholar will dig your body out of the ground some day
Like an Avarian horse-skull. Nuclear ash will have buried all.
There you’re no longer human: ‘class-alien’ you’re called.
Here you’re no longer human: a number in an equation.
Endure these things as God does; no wild conflagration
Is struck from the stormy firmament. Wisdom has its uses.
Smile when the gaoler tears your tongue out. Smile and be gracious:
Thankful, even in your coffin, that there’s someone to bury you.
Desperately guard your dreams and your adjectives: keep them few.
Don’t squeak when the boss counts your teeth like a horse’s.
Hold on to your rags, your bundle, your wretched memories –
A lock of hair, a photograph, a poem –
For nothing else is left. You can still count the chestnut trees
On Mikó Street – like a miser, you grasp all seven of them.
And Jenö never brought me back the Shelley I had lent him.
And there is no one left to buy the hangman’s rope,
And our nerves, blood and brains are all of them dried up.
With your very eyes, my brethren, see what in truth we are,
We are but dust and ashes.
Trans:George Gömöri & Clime Wilmer
‘With your very eyes, my brethren, see what in truth we are:
We are but dust and ashes.’
Like pieces of old cloth our memories fall apart.
Do you still have St Margaret’s Isle by heart?
It is all odds and ends now, splinters, fusty lumber.
The dead man’s beard has grown, your name is just a number.
Our language, torn, frays too; the loved words we so trust
Under the roof of the mouth dry out, turn to dust.
‘Butterfly’, ‘pearl’ and ‘heart’ are not what they used to be
When the poet drew his language from his near family,
And his song was understood as the nurse’s lullaby
Is by the drowsy child, who’s fractious, ready to cry.
The heartbeat’s a secret speech, dreams go the thieves’ way,
You read Toldi to your child, who then responds: ‘OK.’
And the priest will mumble in Spanish over your bier:
‘These are the torments of death, and they surround me here!’
In the Ohio mine your hand slips, the pickaxe
Thuds down and your name loses its diacritical marks.
The Tyrrhenian Sea roars, we hear Babits’ word and, hark,
That’s Krudy’s harp that twangs in the Australasian dark.
They still communicate in astral voices, live
In your body’s memory like distant relatives.
You exclaim: It cannot be that consecrated will…
But it can: you know it now… You get no mail
In the iron-mines of Thuringia. To write they are afraid.
With no katorgas marked, you cannot mourn the dead.
The Consul’s chewing gum. Fed up, he wipes his glasses.
You can see that he’s quite bored with papers, stamps and passes.
He gets a car and a thousand bucks a month. His child and wife
Are photos on his desk. What’s Ady in his life?
What’s a nation? A millennium? The arts that we inherit?
Rippl’s colours? Arany’s words? Bartók’s restless spirit?
It can’t be that so many hearts in vain… Be quiet. It can.
The great powers at great length talk on and on.
Be silent and keep watching. The jackal is alive
Whose ten small claws will scratch you from your African grave.
In Mexico there’s already a cactus growing too
That will cover your tombstone, so none can look for you.
You think you’re alive? Have you somewhere to live? If nowhere,
In your brethren’s hearts…? Oh no, it is all just a nightmare.
You still hear the hoarse complaint: Brother has sold brother.
A faint voice interrupts: Keep your lips sealed together.
A third voice sighs: Lest those who lament us far away…
And a fourth rattles: …are forced to despise us day by day.
So: Keep on smiling. Don’t seek reasons. Do not ask, ‘Was I
Worse than the others.’ You were a Magyar, that is why.
And Estonian, Lithuanian, Romanian. Now keep silent and pay.
The Aztecs have gone as well. Let come what come may.
A scholar will dig your body out of the ground some day
Like an Avarian horse-skull. Nuclear ash will have buried all.
There you’re no longer human: ‘class-alien’ you’re called.
Here you’re no longer human: a number in an equation.
Endure these things as God does; no wild conflagration
Is struck from the stormy firmament. Wisdom has its uses.
Smile when the gaoler tears your tongue out. Smile and be gracious:
Thankful, even in your coffin, that there’s someone to bury you.
Desperately guard your dreams and your adjectives: keep them few.
Don’t squeak when the boss counts your teeth like a horse’s.
Hold on to your rags, your bundle, your wretched memories –
A lock of hair, a photograph, a poem –
For nothing else is left. You can still count the chestnut trees
On Mikó Street – like a miser, you grasp all seven of them.
And Jenö never brought me back the Shelley I had lent him.
And there is no one left to buy the hangman’s rope,
And our nerves, blood and brains are all of them dried up.
With your very eyes, my brethren, see what in truth we are,
We are but dust and ashes.
Trans:George Gömöri & Clime Wilmer
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Spring?
Even though May is said to be the most beautiful month in Ireland, this year this hasn't been proven by the weather so far. Wind, rain, drizzle, whatever you want (or not).
My heart is aching a little bit to hear that in Central Europe the open-air swimming pools are open from the 1st of May and that at the weekend it might be 30 Celsius in my homecountry...
As regards weather, winter was definitely better here, than at home, but what about summer? Is it possible that for the first time in my life I will have homesickness? And is it possible that due to the poor weather conditions?
OMG. I haven't thought I am so superficial. Sorry.
My heart is aching a little bit to hear that in Central Europe the open-air swimming pools are open from the 1st of May and that at the weekend it might be 30 Celsius in my homecountry...
As regards weather, winter was definitely better here, than at home, but what about summer? Is it possible that for the first time in my life I will have homesickness? And is it possible that due to the poor weather conditions?
OMG. I haven't thought I am so superficial. Sorry.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
Brands
Just a usual quick remark.
As far as brand names are concerned, at first I was a little bit confused to notice that there are some grand international brand names that for some reasons change when they appear in the shelves of this island's shops.
However, just to prove how adaptable one can be, I must confess that nowadays I refer to the well-known brands by their "Irish" names, so instead of Axe, Rexona, Brise I say Lynx, Sure, Glade separately...
As far as brand names are concerned, at first I was a little bit confused to notice that there are some grand international brand names that for some reasons change when they appear in the shelves of this island's shops.
However, just to prove how adaptable one can be, I must confess that nowadays I refer to the well-known brands by their "Irish" names, so instead of Axe, Rexona, Brise I say Lynx, Sure, Glade separately...
Equality
A few weeks ago I mentioned that in Ireland it is not unique at all to have three, four or five, six childen in a family. Since then I realised how this is possible... Although I have no idea how it goes at home (so it might be a kind of hypocrisy as well, however, I doubt it), so, what is rather striking to me is that in Ireland the streets are full of fathers walking with small children... Unfortunately, I think we need to learn a lot from the Irish...
Plagiarism
I have just read three basic facts about the Irish and the drive to share them with the whole world is so strong that I cannot resist the temptation to post them here...
So, how do you know that you are Irish?
1: If the temperature is beyond +5 Celsius, you wear a T-shirt.
2: You do not use racks. Never.
3: You flush the toilet with a doorhandle.
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So, how do you know that you are Irish?
1: If the temperature is beyond +5 Celsius, you wear a T-shirt.
2: You do not use racks. Never.
3: You flush the toilet with a doorhandle.
_8599.jpg)
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Weather
With a bit of exaggeration I can say that all I had heard about Dublin before I actually came here was that its weather is unbearable... Rainy, windy, foggy, misty, clammy, disgusting, awful, intolerable and full stop. That's it.
However, maybe as I was expecting to move to a wet hell, I must confess, I AM disappointed. And not only a little bit. Very much. 'Cos the dreaded weather has not been at all as dreaded as its reputation so far...
OK, OK Dublin is a little bit windy, which in practice means that you can forget about any type of fancy hairstyle you got used to anywhere else, but if you still have a part in your soul that remained a little bit childish, you can really enjoy the playful Irish wind that is generally extremely strong and does not really follow only one specific direction to say the least...
Then. As regards the rain, I expected Ireland to be much-much more rainy, than it is actually. Of course it is not a dry country, but as far as I remember, the wettest week so far has been the one, when once in January it was raining on 4 days out of 7 - it is not at all bad, is it. Moreover, Irish rain is not like normal European rain - its drops are usually much smaller and much lighter in a way, so when you walk in the rain here, sometimes you have the feeling that you are actually strolling in dense fog... Besides being much smaller and lighter, Irish rain has the tendecy to be cheerful and tricky as well, which means that even though the sun shines in the first moment, you cannot take it for granted that it will still shine in the second one... Rain can appear literally out of the blue within a single moment, but in return it is usually generous enough to disappear after a few light drops, so as to be able to stike back again in a few moments before the sun appears again...
All in all, Ireland's weather is not at all as horrible as you might suppose... It is windy, rainy, unpredictable and capricous - but at least it is mild: In winter, the temperature rarely falls below zero, whereas in summer it is usually not warmer than 25 degree Celsius. (For those, who are interested in statistics, HERE is an appealing table.)
Although I am aware of the fact that so far I have been very forgiving, I must admit that there is one thing I have not spoken about yet... Although I still claim that both the rain and the wind are bearable, well, to be honest, the combination of these two might be a little bit annoying - especially if you are not get used to it...
However, maybe as I was expecting to move to a wet hell, I must confess, I AM disappointed. And not only a little bit. Very much. 'Cos the dreaded weather has not been at all as dreaded as its reputation so far...
OK, OK Dublin is a little bit windy, which in practice means that you can forget about any type of fancy hairstyle you got used to anywhere else, but if you still have a part in your soul that remained a little bit childish, you can really enjoy the playful Irish wind that is generally extremely strong and does not really follow only one specific direction to say the least...
Then. As regards the rain, I expected Ireland to be much-much more rainy, than it is actually. Of course it is not a dry country, but as far as I remember, the wettest week so far has been the one, when once in January it was raining on 4 days out of 7 - it is not at all bad, is it. Moreover, Irish rain is not like normal European rain - its drops are usually much smaller and much lighter in a way, so when you walk in the rain here, sometimes you have the feeling that you are actually strolling in dense fog... Besides being much smaller and lighter, Irish rain has the tendecy to be cheerful and tricky as well, which means that even though the sun shines in the first moment, you cannot take it for granted that it will still shine in the second one... Rain can appear literally out of the blue within a single moment, but in return it is usually generous enough to disappear after a few light drops, so as to be able to stike back again in a few moments before the sun appears again...
All in all, Ireland's weather is not at all as horrible as you might suppose... It is windy, rainy, unpredictable and capricous - but at least it is mild: In winter, the temperature rarely falls below zero, whereas in summer it is usually not warmer than 25 degree Celsius. (For those, who are interested in statistics, HERE is an appealing table.)
Although I am aware of the fact that so far I have been very forgiving, I must admit that there is one thing I have not spoken about yet... Although I still claim that both the rain and the wind are bearable, well, to be honest, the combination of these two might be a little bit annoying - especially if you are not get used to it...
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Friday, 20 March 2009
Running noses
As far as I remember, about a month ago I mentioned a rather unique habit of Irish people, namely that they tend to ignore the existence of doorhandles... Then I thought this (=the banging of the doors) is the only noise I cannot stand here in Dublin. Since then - due to my lovely friends - I found another "noise" that is equally embarrassing to me and unfortunately rather widespread in the Fair City.
This is - drumbeat ON - sniffling.
Regardless when or where I am, what kind of people are surrounding me - somebody is always sniffling... Let us be in a pub, in a library, on a bus, in the street - it is 99% that I hear somebody snuffing. Of course I do not think that there is a cause and effect relation between being Irish and sniffling, as I know that as a matter of fact not only Irish people sniffle - when we lived in Denmark for example, we experienced just the same, it is just so interesting to me to see that using a kleenex is not as popular here (and in Western-Europe), as it is in my underdeveloped and sometimes mocked homecountry...
Anyway, as - OK, let's forget about yesterday, when the whole city was hiding in a dense, white, sinister fog - spring has arrived to Dublin, I am optimistic and I do hope that from now on I will not hear as many sniffles in the streets as I did in the dreaded wintertime...
This is - drumbeat ON - sniffling.
Regardless when or where I am, what kind of people are surrounding me - somebody is always sniffling... Let us be in a pub, in a library, on a bus, in the street - it is 99% that I hear somebody snuffing. Of course I do not think that there is a cause and effect relation between being Irish and sniffling, as I know that as a matter of fact not only Irish people sniffle - when we lived in Denmark for example, we experienced just the same, it is just so interesting to me to see that using a kleenex is not as popular here (and in Western-Europe), as it is in my underdeveloped and sometimes mocked homecountry...
Anyway, as - OK, let's forget about yesterday, when the whole city was hiding in a dense, white, sinister fog - spring has arrived to Dublin, I am optimistic and I do hope that from now on I will not hear as many sniffles in the streets as I did in the dreaded wintertime...
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Children
Now I have to admit something quite personal. My first month in Dublin rewrote my original plans regarding the number of children I would like to have in the future... I might be considered as a too field-dependent person, but growing up in a society where it becomes more and more unusual to have three children in a family, I have been convinced so far that I would also put up with only two (or maybe only one) children in my life... However, since I am here, I have a strange feeling that I might have been wrong, because I would definitely need at least (!) three children to be satisfied as regards the number of my babies...
The reason for this might be found in the fact that here, in Dublin (or let's generalise, in Ireland) it is just natural to have at least three children in a family... Therefore, the streets are always full of baby trolleys, small and rushing baby feet, pacifiers, clumsy gestures and innocent smiles, advertising that the more children you have the happier you can be...
The reason for this might be found in the fact that here, in Dublin (or let's generalise, in Ireland) it is just natural to have at least three children in a family... Therefore, the streets are always full of baby trolleys, small and rushing baby feet, pacifiers, clumsy gestures and innocent smiles, advertising that the more children you have the happier you can be...
Thursday, 5 March 2009
A negative post
Sorry for the long break, I have no real excuse for not posting for a while...
I think, only the economic downturn can be blamed for my lack of inspiration. Unfortunately it often gets people (including me) down here, in Ireland as well, because if I say that the news is not very promising as regards unemployment rates and financial issues, I definitely make an understatement...
Although I try to remain optimistic and positive and I try to notice the simple beauties of life, sometimes it is just so difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
For those, who cannot be deterred to read on, here are some rather worrying articles:
Unemployment rate tops 10%
Over 350.000 on the Live Register
Restrictions on migrants proposed to counter losses
I think, only the economic downturn can be blamed for my lack of inspiration. Unfortunately it often gets people (including me) down here, in Ireland as well, because if I say that the news is not very promising as regards unemployment rates and financial issues, I definitely make an understatement...
Although I try to remain optimistic and positive and I try to notice the simple beauties of life, sometimes it is just so difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
For those, who cannot be deterred to read on, here are some rather worrying articles:
Unemployment rate tops 10%
Over 350.000 on the Live Register
Restrictions on migrants proposed to counter losses
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Pancake Tuesday
Shrove Tuesday, the annual pancake feast, takes place on February 24th. This night before the start of the Lenten fast, commmonly known as "pancake night," is a time when many still engage in the archaic practice of making, tossing and eating mountains of pancakes. Over-indulgence is expected, if not demanded, and children will come into school on Ash Wednesday boasting of their pancake-eating feats. Generally, large, thick pancakes are simply sprinkled with lemon juice and sugar, rolled into a cigar shape and eaten as a sweet. The survival of this old custom is interesting, since the rigorous Lenten fast is not as widely observed as it once was, though a fair number of people still abstain from alcohol, cigarettes and candy for Lent. Shrove Tuesday, however, is as popular as ever. The ritual is linked to the great European carnival tradition of Mardi Gras ("Fat Tuesday") when people ate as much fat and meat as possible, knowing that these were forbidden for the next forty days. From the early Middle Ages, the Catholic Church forbade the consumption of meat, eggs and dairy produce during Lent. On Shrove Tuesday, thrifty housewives made use of the perishable eggs, milk and butter in the preparation of pancakes.
One social aspect of the night, however, has fallen into disuse - the link between Shrove Tuesday and the romantic fortunes of the unmarried. Traditionally in Ireland, marriage was forbidden to take place during Lent, so in the weeks before Christmas and "Shrovetide," as it's sometimes called, matchmakers busily tried to find suitable candidates for marriage before Ash Wednesday arrived. Households left with unmarried daughters on Shrove Tuesday tried to imbue them with better luck for the coming year by allowing them to toss the first cake. Their pancake-making skills, for better or worse, were seen as an indication of their romantic chances for the next year.
from Ireland Fun Facts
Monday, 23 February 2009
Credit crunch II
Besides food, toiletries are also crucial of course, so whether you like it not, sometimes you have to spend money on them as well... Unfortunately I do like toiletries, so I can hardly resist the temptation to jump into a Boots or a Hickley's whenever I pass one, which is not rare in Dublin I must confess.
However, when "I don't feel like" spending too much, I go either to a Pennies or to a 2 € shop to buy the stuff I need, but before that, I usually check whether the items I want to buy are offered at a favorable, lower price in one of the big, above mentioned stores, because who knows...
Anyway. Just to give a superficial guideline, here is a short list of the average prices of the most important toiletries:
However, when "I don't feel like" spending too much, I go either to a Pennies or to a 2 € shop to buy the stuff I need, but before that, I usually check whether the items I want to buy are offered at a favorable, lower price in one of the big, above mentioned stores, because who knows...
Anyway. Just to give a superficial guideline, here is a short list of the average prices of the most important toiletries:
- Shower gel: ~ 2 € (250 ml - Lynx or Nivea)
- Shampoo: ~ 3-4 € (200 ml - Head & Shoulders)
- Conditioner: ~ 2-3 € (200 ml - Sunsilk)
- Soap: ~ 3 € (4 x 100 g - Palmolive)
- Face wash: ~ 4 € (150 ml - Nivea)
- Toothpaste: ~ 3 € (100 ml - Colgate, Aquafresh)
- Hair mousse: ~ 3 € (200 ml - Wella)
- Anti perspirant: ~ 2-5 € (150 ml - Adidas, Lynx)
- Roll on deodorant: ~ 2-5 € (50 ml - Sanex, Lynx, Nivea)
- Razor gel: 2 € (75 ml - Gilette)
- Liquid foundation: 4-12 €
- Mascara: 4-12 €
Friday, 20 February 2009
Quick & impressive
In the afternoon I will write about the dreaded weather in Dublin, but now I have only a few minutes, so let me introduce the topic with the help of two videos, because it is so professional. So.
A unique one:
And a usual one:
A unique one:
And a usual one:
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Coming out
Ok. I reckon it is time to admit. Music off.
Although I am fond of Ireland and the Irish, there is one thing I can't really tolerate, because it is totally annoying, tiresome and disappointing. And that is...
... the fact that most Irish people bang the doors as idly as they can ignoring that handles have already been invented.
I know, nobody bothers that slowly but surely this will drive me crazy, but pls, pls, pls USE the doorhandles, because they have a function and they definitely should be used.
Thanks for a million in advance.
Although I am fond of Ireland and the Irish, there is one thing I can't really tolerate, because it is totally annoying, tiresome and disappointing. And that is...
... the fact that most Irish people bang the doors as idly as they can ignoring that handles have already been invented.
I know, nobody bothers that slowly but surely this will drive me crazy, but pls, pls, pls USE the doorhandles, because they have a function and they definitely should be used.
Thanks for a million in advance.
Herbert Park
After the sensitive issue of money, let me recommend a beautiful park in Ballsbridge, Dublin 4. We visited it this Sunday and found it pretty charming, although for some reasons I guess it is not as popular as let's say St. Stephen's Green or Merrion Square...
Anyway. I think it is definitely worth visiting if one needs tranquility and / or loves feeding birds.
History:
Anyway. I think it is definitely worth visiting if one needs tranquility and / or loves feeding birds.
History:
The land used for the park was given to the city by the Earl of Pembroke whose family name was Herbert. In 1907, the World Fair known as the Irish International Exhibition was held in Ballsbridge. When the structures had been dismantled, the site was developed as the current public park, with the bandstand and pond being the only remaining structures from the time. It is now maintained by Dublin City Council[1]. The former site of the Johnston, Mooney & O'Brien bakery bordered the park and when that site was redeveloped as the Herbert Park Hotel[2], a new entrance was opened at the easternmost end of the park.
The park is thirty-two acres in size and is in two halves, divided by a road, also called Herbert Park. A full circuit of the park's perimeter is almost exactly one mile, a fact used by runners and walkers to measure their progress. The larger half, on the south side of the road, and which is also bounded by the River Dodder houses a number of soccer pitches, formal gardens, and a large duck pond. The northern half is home to a public children's playground, a number of tennis courts, and the bowling green of Herbert Park Bowling Club.
The park's pond has proven to be an excellent location for breeding of carp. In February 2006 the pond was nearly completely emptied in order for cleaning to take place. The carp were removed to alternative locations. These carp were up to 2 feet (0.61 m) in length. As of October 2007 the pond bed was still maturing but the council plan to restock the pond once it is complete.
(From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Credit crunch
Speaking about money, just a few average numbers* quickly:
Otherwise it is important to add that prices might vary very much depending on where you do your shopping... I tried to write average numbers, which means that if you enjoy bargain hunting and don't really pay attention to quality, you can spend less of course, than I, but if you prefer 'high quality food', you definitely need more money than you would think on the basis of my numbers...
What else...
Yes, the offers. There are great offers, which help you save a lot of money, if you are clever and patient enough. (The most common offers are: 2 for 1; 3 for 2; Half price; Save x € (where x is a natural number usually between 1-3 €...))
- Milk: ~ 1,7 € (2 l)
- Sliced bread: ~ 1,5 € (800 g)
- Spread: ~ 1-2 € (400 g)
- Ham: ~ 3 € (100 g)
- Apple / pineapple etc. juice: ~ 1,5 € (1 l)
- Coke: ~ 2 € (2 l)
- Mineral water: ~ 1,5 € (2 l)
- Digestive biscuits: ~ 1 € (400 g)
- Chicken breast filets: ~ 5 € (2 small ones)
- Sugar: ~ 1,5 € (1kg)
- Flour: ~ 3 € (2 kg)
- Pizza: ~ 3 € (frozen, let's say Ristorante)
- Raisins: ~ 1,5 € (365 g)
- Pasta: ~ 1 € (500 g)
- Sour cream: ~ 1,8 € (200 g)
- Yogurt: ~ 0,7 € (150 g)
Otherwise it is important to add that prices might vary very much depending on where you do your shopping... I tried to write average numbers, which means that if you enjoy bargain hunting and don't really pay attention to quality, you can spend less of course, than I, but if you prefer 'high quality food', you definitely need more money than you would think on the basis of my numbers...
What else...
Yes, the offers. There are great offers, which help you save a lot of money, if you are clever and patient enough. (The most common offers are: 2 for 1; 3 for 2; Half price; Save x € (where x is a natural number usually between 1-3 €...))
Monday, 16 February 2009
Language & numbers
After arriving to Dublin, we immediately started to look for a proper permanent accomodation, because at first we moved into a temporary one, which was extremely expensive (appr. 2400 € / month)... Although we were supported by a professional orientation team, who showed us plenty of properties, we were searching for the appropriate flat on our own as well. (Most of the time we checked the daft.ie for flats, I think it is the most useful homepage if you want to find a place where to live in Ireland.)
Anyway.
While looking for the perfect flat, we learned that here, prices are not given in the way we were taught at the school... Because. If a flat is let's say 1200 € / month, they say it is twelve hundred instead of saying it is one thousand and two hundred as I would have expected... At first this was pretty unusual, but we soon got used to it.
Anyway.
While looking for the perfect flat, we learned that here, prices are not given in the way we were taught at the school... Because. If a flat is let's say 1200 € / month, they say it is twelve hundred instead of saying it is one thousand and two hundred as I would have expected... At first this was pretty unusual, but we soon got used to it.
Friday, 13 February 2009
Just a quick remark
Today I was so clumsy, that I managed to pour some tea on the floor. I rushed to tear a kitchel towel and I started to murmur to myself fretfully, OK, OK, come on ants, you can have a lovely breakfast, don't hesitate... but then... like a bolt from the blue... it came to my mind... that... I have never seen any insects here, in Dublin... Not even a spider in the corner... Not even an ant looking for some crumbs... Not even an ugly something just crawling all over the flat...
I haven't decided yet whether this is positive or not, but it is strange - that is for sure!
Update: This morning I found a rather weak and ill-looking spider hanging in front of one of our windows. I didn't remove it, but I decided to call it Bob from now on.
I haven't decided yet whether this is positive or not, but it is strange - that is for sure!
Update: This morning I found a rather weak and ill-looking spider hanging in front of one of our windows. I didn't remove it, but I decided to call it Bob from now on.
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
First impressions
Right after my adventurous arrival at Dublin in the beginning of December, I was immediately forced to realise that I am not in my homecountry, as when I woke up the next morning at about half past 8 (a.m. not p.m.), I had to contemplate for a while about the fragile nature of clocks and watches around me, which might have broken down (maybe) due to the flight we had survived together, because I simply couldn't believe my eyes, when I looked out of the windows and realised that the lights are on in the streets, as the sun has just started to rise... Hmmm... Not a very warm welcome...
Later, when I regained my senses, I googled it (I mean the phenomenon, not my senses) and found that in December in Ireland the sun rises at 8.25. a.m. and it sets at 4.10. p.m. OMG. Practically this means that in winter the sky is gloomy until half past 8 a.m. and that it is growing dark at around 4 p.m. Not much, but believe me, it is tolerable.
And since I wrote down the word gloomy, I cannot think of anything, but a song. A kind of supreme power demands me to show it and I cannot resist, although it has nothing to do with the Irish... Sorry for the depressive tone. After all, it is in my blood due to my nationality... So. Here comes the suicide song related to gloomy in my mind:
And for those, who are interested, here is the story behind the song:
Later, when I regained my senses, I googled it (I mean the phenomenon, not my senses) and found that in December in Ireland the sun rises at 8.25. a.m. and it sets at 4.10. p.m. OMG. Practically this means that in winter the sky is gloomy until half past 8 a.m. and that it is growing dark at around 4 p.m. Not much, but believe me, it is tolerable.
And since I wrote down the word gloomy, I cannot think of anything, but a song. A kind of supreme power demands me to show it and I cannot resist, although it has nothing to do with the Irish... Sorry for the depressive tone. After all, it is in my blood due to my nationality... So. Here comes the suicide song related to gloomy in my mind:
And for those, who are interested, here is the story behind the song:
Basic facts
Wow, how to start, I have got so much to write about my new home...
First of all... Where is Ireland? Where is Dublin?
The most important facts about Ireland can be found HERE, while all the basics you have to know about Dublin, can be read HERE.
To tell the truth, before I arrived in Dublin at a nice, chilly, but promising night, all I knew about Ireland was that its evergreen grass is world-famous and that Irish people are quite passionate about drinking... Alright, I was also warned that the weather is very tricky here, but at that time I did not really notice it, as it was 11 p.m. and I was happy that after a paralysing 30 minutes my taxi driver finally found out where I intended to go... (Later on, it turned out, that it was not at all unusual that he tried to rely on me, as regards the direction of my destination - even though I spoke to him with a rather strange accent, I looked like a scared rabbit and I hailed him at the airport, so he could have guessed that I am not the one, who is able to direct him... Anyway... Two or three days later I was told that I should have mentioned a pub near my destination, because taxi drivers in Dublin don't know the streets precisely, but they never get lost if they are given a pub to go to... OK, I have learnt the lesson.)
Otherwise...
With so little previous knowledge about Ireland and Dublin, I know, I have to learn a lot consciously and unconsiously, but first of all eagerly not to feel alien, but I do hope that in a few months' (years') time my efforts will be crowned with success and I will know this city and country as the back of my palm. (And I might even decipher what the classic word craic means...)
First of all... Where is Ireland? Where is Dublin?
The most important facts about Ireland can be found HERE, while all the basics you have to know about Dublin, can be read HERE.
To tell the truth, before I arrived in Dublin at a nice, chilly, but promising night, all I knew about Ireland was that its evergreen grass is world-famous and that Irish people are quite passionate about drinking... Alright, I was also warned that the weather is very tricky here, but at that time I did not really notice it, as it was 11 p.m. and I was happy that after a paralysing 30 minutes my taxi driver finally found out where I intended to go... (Later on, it turned out, that it was not at all unusual that he tried to rely on me, as regards the direction of my destination - even though I spoke to him with a rather strange accent, I looked like a scared rabbit and I hailed him at the airport, so he could have guessed that I am not the one, who is able to direct him... Anyway... Two or three days later I was told that I should have mentioned a pub near my destination, because taxi drivers in Dublin don't know the streets precisely, but they never get lost if they are given a pub to go to... OK, I have learnt the lesson.)
Otherwise...
With so little previous knowledge about Ireland and Dublin, I know, I have to learn a lot consciously and unconsiously, but first of all eagerly not to feel alien, but I do hope that in a few months' (years') time my efforts will be crowned with success and I will know this city and country as the back of my palm. (And I might even decipher what the classic word craic means...)
Sunday, 1 February 2009
A kind of introduction
Although it is hard to believe, in two weeks' time we are going to start our third month here, in Dublin, in the capital of Ireland.
As leaving your homecountry is never an easy matter, I decided to create this blog to help those, who plan to take this big jump: moving to Ireland.
I promise that I try to be as comprehensive as I can, but that can be taken for granted that I will be absolutely subjective and I tend to generalize - sorry for that in advance.
As leaving your homecountry is never an easy matter, I decided to create this blog to help those, who plan to take this big jump: moving to Ireland.
I promise that I try to be as comprehensive as I can, but that can be taken for granted that I will be absolutely subjective and I tend to generalize - sorry for that in advance.
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