Action Jackson's Travel Blog

Denver, Colorado

2011-11-21T18:30:00.000-08:00

Denver, Colo., is a gem of a city. Surrounded by the Rocky Mountains and bathed in 300 days of sunlight, the natural wonder of both landscape and city are magnificent.

They’ve got a bit of nightlife as well.

I've taken it upon myself to spend a long weekend cataloging the finer points of the arts and entertainment scene so that the next time you visit the city, you’ll know how to spend your evenings after you’ve watched those scenic sunsets.

Even with the time zone factor working in my favor, I still didn’t touch down in Denver International Airport (the nation’s largest) until well past 8 p.m. on Friday. The late start meant that as soon as I had settled into my hotel room, it was time to get some food and drink into my tum-tum.

We immediately headed to “LoDo” (Lower Downtown). We found ourselves at Brothers Bar and Grill, a huge modern nightclub.

Brothers’ pub grub menu was well executed. The fried, puffy pretzels were great (although they didn’t offer beer cheese to go with ‘em), and the fried cheese curls a treat.

Because of our late start, we stayed at Brothers for the rest of the night. The atmosphere was appropriate, although it reminded me a bit of college. The dance floor opened onto an outdoor patio featuring a built-in fire pit. Despite being a hangout for an almost exclusively younger crowd (my 27 years may have made me the youngest person in the joint), the dance club soundtrack was oddly archaic. Think: DMX and Destiny’s Child mixed in with today’s dance top 40.

The kids were well behaved, for the most part. Although immature, the “Night at the Roxbury” gauntlet a group of college-aged guys tried to entice passing young women with was oddly amusing.

I decided to go on a walk-about on Saturday. I was determined to get a hunting cap before I left Denver. You know, one of those plaid joints with the fur lining inside and flaps that you can fold up when they’re not warming your ears. Now that I think about it, I’m not quite sure why I wanted to buy one, but I just felt like it would be what Holden Caulfield from “Catcher in the Rye” would’ve wanted me to do.

Anyway, I hit up the 16^th Street Mall, a sprawling miles-long outdoor shopping center that runs through the heart of Lower Downtown. I grabbed a locally brewed cup of coffee, a copy of the Denver Post and was enjoying the sunny day when I stumbled upon an Occupy Denver protest march.

http://qik.com/video/45604306

(Sorry about the sideways footage -- New phone.)

I bought some Colorado Avalanche gear and some touristy schwag, but after a few hours of wandering, I did not come back with my hunting cap. I found one in a yuppie shop called Sheep Skin. A fine cap made of soft, tan leather and lined real lambskin. But when I lifted the tag, the price read $375 (about $325 over my price range).

Later that evening, we decided to go to the aquarium. You may be thinking to yourself, “Why would you go to an aquarium in the middle of the mountains. Ain’t no fish in Colorado.”

Good question.

When you take away the touristy kitsch created to entertain children, the aquarium was little more than a larger version of the tanks they have a Wholley’s market. The saving grace had to be the shark tank, which did have a number of the larger varieties of the predatory fish.

Perhaps the best part about going to the aquarium was that it placed us strategically close to Zengo. Located on Little Raven Street, this hip Latin/Asian fusion restaurant was just a short walk down the river trail along the Platte River.

Zengo really reminded me of the restaurant I reviewed in DC that I reviewed in an earlier edition of the Action Jackson travel blog. Well, after pulling out my smart phone, I found out that, er… That’s because it kind of was the same restaurant. Turns out Zengo has national penetration.

But by the time I figured it out, the drinks were already tasting delicious. I made sure to order different menu items than I had in DC, so I enjoyed the Mile High Zengo just as much as the Capitol City version.

I ordered the Araepas de Puerxi: Pulled pork, hoisin, guacamole, cornmeal cake, crema fresco with a tiny little sliver of jalapeno that pulled the whole dish together with a perfect finish.

The salmon sushi rolls had goat cheese in them – that’s right, goat cheese. Brilliant! I can’t wait to copycat that idea and try to roll something similar the next time I have a sushi party. It has nothing to with authentic Japanese cuisine, but what do you expect with any eatery with the word “fusion” in its description.

Our original plan called for a walk over the arched stairway that gives access to Union Station for a long pub crawl down the 16^th Street Mall back to the hotel at City Center. But the rain took the piss out of that.

So we hailed a cab and took a short ride to Scruffy Murphy’s, an Irish pub with a lot of character. Dark mahogany woodwork and high ceilings are the first things you’ll notice when entering. Old timey tin-plate photographs of Irish republican heroes line the walls along with old deeds and documents. There was a group of gents wearing rugby sweaters. In the bathroom, news clippings from the Chronicle, the newspaper of County Meath, in the Republic of Ireland, were plastered onto the wall with lacquer. It was good to gaze upon those pages. Long-time readers of the Action Jackson blog will know that County Meath was the setting of one of your narrator’s more nobler adventures.

But my favorite feature of Scruffy Murphy’s would have to be their selection of punk rock music. It was just as if someone had plugged in my “Gallows Radio” station on Pandora and let ‘er rip: NOFX, Nothington, G.B.H., The Lawrence Arms, Anti-Flag, The Mezingers, The Bouncing Souls, Bad Religion… I was in heaven!

Despite the euphoria I was feeling, my girlfriend soon grew weary of the gutter punk scene (who could blame her), so we crossed the street to the Gin Mill.

Despite its name, the establishment didn’t offer Beefeater gin.

Unforgivable!

With the LSU v. Alabama game going on, the highlight of this bar was the free popcorn machine (a la Barry’s Pub on Carson St., Pittsburgh), although a germophobe may not be able to excuse the creepy crawlies squirming around in that butter-infused environment.

Not caring who won the SEC show down that was televised, we called it an early night and headed back to the hotel.

On Sunday, there was only one thing on my mind: Ice Hockey.

With tickets to the Colorado Avalanche v. Calgary Flames game in my hands, Sunday was definitely a great day for hockey. But with a 6 p.m. CST puck-drop, it also coincided with the Steelers v. Ravens prime-time kickoff.

So, I did what any hockey player from Pittsburgh would do. I wore a Steelers T-shirt under my Calgary Flames sweater.

It was great to finally see Flames captain Jerome Iginla play in person. I’ve been a fan since my freshman year of college, when he won the Rocket Richard trophy. Even though I had seen him play at the Winter Olympics, it was an experience that I’ll always remember seeing him in those infamously ugly red-and-yellow jerseys.

I was in such a good mood after the hockey game that it took a lot (but not all) of the sting out of the Steelers’ loss, which we watched at a sports bar across the thoroughfare.

Hitchhiker's Guide to Washington, DC

2011-03-14T11:17:00.001-07:00

Washington DC can be a cruel mistress to outsiders.

The nation’s capital has a tendency to take itself a bit seriously, which can make it hard for the uninitiated to find the right bar or nightclub to reflect the experience their seeking. Combine that with DC’s high cost of living, and it becomes very easy for an out-of-towner to have an overpriced, all-around shitty night when the pub of their dreams is right around the corner or just a few Metro stops away.

So, this latest installment of the travel blog should give fellow wayward travelers a couple of tips when visiting the District.

It’s also about that time to warn those who’ve stumbled upon this blog looking for advice on museums and landmarks and the like – this isn’t that kind of post. However, if you’re looking for a few places to add to your pub crawl, you’ve hit the jackpot.

Now, if you’re reading the Action Jackson Blog, you’re more than likely trying to squeeze every penny of fun out of your travel funds. That being said, it’s safe to assume that this article is biased towards the little scumbag in each of us that hopes to party like a rock star from Neptune (because Martians have suddenly become cliché) but still hates to pay eight dollars for watered down beer.

As with many of my trips to the crux of modern democracy, I was staying with my good friend (and fellow alumnus of the legendary Morgantown band Sex Panther) Pete in the Rockville, Md., condominium he shares with his girlfriend Meg and their red eared turtle, Penny.

We headed to Chinatown for dinner and got off the Metro train around 4:30 p.m., which was just about perfect time – you beat the dinner rush and can get seated without reservations, but just in time for happy hour to save you some coin – and happened into a place called Zengo. We ate at the downstairs bar.

Zengo tailored to the hip and affluent China Town clientele with a modern Latin trance fusion playlist. But the menu kept true to its South American theme while adding just enough contemporary culinary pizzazz to keep you interested and guessing but not quite enough to make you think the chef was trying too hard. Our bar maid was an adorable, compact young Latina woman named Jimile. Her recommendations – a smorgasbord of empanadas, spare ribs, mojitos, edemame, tacos filled with slow cooked meats, margaritas – were on point. She even bought us a round of free drinks!

From Zenga, we emerged onto the streets of Chinatown groggy with full bellies. So, we headed to a nearby Irish pub, Fado on 7th Street, for that ultimate evening pick-me-up: Irish coffee.

I was wary of Fado for the simple fact that it is a national chain. In my experience, anytime you try to bottle an ethnic experience, you get some kind of demon spawn in Olive Garden’s wheel house.

But Fado does it right.

From the cobblestone floor to the mahogany bar top, I have to admit that it has the feel of an Irish pub. I can’t really explain how or why, but it even smells authentic.
After a couple at Fado, we’d had enough of Chinatown. It was getting late and it can be a pretty stiff crowd late at night. Not to mention the $40 cover charges.

So, we caught a cab and headed for the Adam’s Morgan area of the city. If, like me, you feel right at home in the gnarly establishments the South Side has to offer, then I would suggest checking out Adam’s Morgan for a night out before you leave DC. It’s by far the most Yinzer-friendly area of the city.

You have to go to Madam’s Organ. The clever name alone is worthy. But there’s always a good jazz band playing downstairs and the specials would be reasonable in even the most rustbelt of towns.

We headed to the fourth floor and were taken care of by yet another awesome bartender, this one named Shendy. The sound system upstairs consisted of a stereo hooked up to an iPod by way of an auxiliary cable. I fell in love with Shendy’s eclectic taste in music: “Sychronicity II” by The Police, “Bonafide Lovin” by Chromeo, “In the Meantime” by Spacehog, some B-sides from Phoenix… She even let us plug in my Android so that we could play “Country Roads” by John Denver.

And, just to top off an already perfect night, Shendy bought us a couple of rounds of drinks to end the night. There must be something about a true grit Pittsburgh Boy that doesn’t take himself too seriously that those DC barkeeps can’t resist ;)

Are you from the DC Metro Area? Disagree with our portrayal of your fair city? Let me know by contacting akendeall@gmail.com or @akendeall on Twitter. And don’t be afraid to let me have it.

Farewell to the Emerald Island

2010-05-20T14:12:00.000-07:00

My final day in Ireland offered one of the most scenic views of the whole trip. On our way from Killarney to Limerick, we stopped at the Cliffs of Moher, one of the most beautiful panoramic vistas I've ever seen.

Located on the western coast of Ireland in Co Claire, the cliffs of Moher rise 701 feet out of the Atlantic Ocean and give some of the most spectacular views offered on the island. We spent two hours walking up and down the edge of the jutting landscape reflecting on the things we’ve experienced together and taking in the awesome sight.

Nesting in the crags of the cliffs were thousands of seagulls and puffins. They numbered so many that they looked like swarming insects from our lofty post and stained the cliff face with alternating layers of color from their droppings.

On the way back to Limerick from the cliffs, we got a chance a nap before heading to dinner at the Bunratty Castle. In Irish, the name Caisleán Bhun Raithe, means "Castle at the Mouth of the Ratty". The defensive post was home to the Earls in the families O’Brien and MacNamara and was originally built in the thirteenth century.

The restored castle now offers medieval themed dinners complete with Baroque music (the Handel score was my personal favorite) and flowing goblets of mead. The musicians consisted of an Irish Harp player and a violinist. Both were excellent, classically trained professionals. I couldn’t help thinking, though, that the violinist in particular couldn't help feeling crushed by playing in front of the group of tourists three times a day, over and over again.

‘I played second violin in the Dublin Philharmonic,’ I kept picturing him saying to himself, ‘how has my career come to this?’

That brings us pretty much up to date with the experiences this group has gone through in Ireland. Now, I’d like to invite you to view my blog in the upcoming weeks for more posts, but seeing as this is a travel blog, I don’t see any point in writing posts when I’m stuck at home in Pittsburgh. You deserve better than rehashed travel ‘news,’ so I am going to press the celestial pause button on Action Jackson’s Travel Blog for the time being.

Now, I have some fun activities planned for this summer, including a white water rafting trip to the New River Gorge, a bike-riding trip across the entire Hawaiian Island of Oahu and the Warrior Dash Race in Maryland, among other things. Please follow me on my twitter account (akendeall), or on my facebook page to learn more about those trips. Also, there is some pretty exciting things planned for www.PittsburghFreePress.com in the upcoming months, so check out that site once we're finished with construction and launch PFP 2.0.

I’ll be sure to let you know when I ship off, and I promise to resurrect the travel blog at that time. Until then, I’ll catch you in Pittsburgh’s South Side.

Cheers!

Killarney

2010-05-19T12:52:00.000-07:00

OMG… we went SHOPPING!!!

Wednesday was mostly a free day – we had the entire morning and afternoon to ourselves had to be back by 4 p.m. for a guest speaker. While a lot of my mates went horseback riding or did other types of fun activities, classmate David Kelly and I decided to go get some new gear in the shoppes of Killarney. The Killarney Outlet was ravaged by the economic recession. Think of the empty storefronts of Century III mall with giant red “Clearance” signs everywhere you looked. But we found some really good deals on trendy Euro-clothing that will help convince people who don’t know me very well that I’m much more cultured and traveled than I really am.

At 4 p.m., we were privileged with the company of Deelan Malone, the Group Editor of The Kerryman, an Irish local publication that covered Co. Kerry. The Kerryman is owned by INM, the same group that owns many Irish publications, including The Irish Independent, the Evening Herald, Belfast Telegraph and others.

Malone spoke to our group of media students at great length concerning Irish libel laws, the role of photographers, the important role of sports in the life of his newspaper and how public relations specialists and advertisers in printing the paper and .

“Sports are a big deal in Killarney,” said Malone, “they get as much space as news. I’m being modest when I say we do it the best.”

Soccer and Gaelic Football play an essential role in the fabric of life in Co. Kerry. It may be confusing that people from Kerry call Gaelic football simply “football,” while what we know as soccer goes by the same name there. Gaelic football is a game that is similar to Australian rules football, where 15 players on a side compete full contact sans pads in a game in which forward and backwards laterals are legal and the goal is a soccer-style net with field goal posts above it. Players can either score three points by getting the ball (using hands or feet) past the goalie or two points by getting the ball through the field goal posts directly above. I told Malone that I was glad they got their terminology right, even if the rest of Europe failed.

Malone reinforced how inhibitive Irish libel laws can be in publishing a newspaper. He gave an example of a court case in which the court documents were printed incorrectly by a clerk. Because the court documents were incorrect, the paper’s information was skewed. They published the perpetrator of a drug crime as a trafficker instead of a drug user. Even though the newspaper published exactly what court documents gave them, they ended up settling for 7,000 Euros in reparations to the offended party.

“Absence of malice doesn’t stand for nothing,” Malone said, disgusted.

In addition, Malone said that The Kerryman would never publish information related to a drunk driving accident.

“If I knew someone was killed when they were drunk and speeding, I wouldn’t print it,” Malone said.”You’d outrage the entire community.” I don't think a week goes by that one of the Pittsburgh dailies published a drunk driving offense.

As with the Belfast Telegraph, the Kerryman looks to Irish emigrants and decedents for the future of their online model. In the past few weeks, they launched an online, subscription model and hope to get positive returns on that investment.

As for his advice to budding journalists, Malone was straight to the point.

“You will meet some unforgiving bastards,” Malone said. “There are a lot of professions where you slowly fade away. In journalism, you might get burnt out, and I think in a way, that’s better.”

I fell through a raining Ring of Kerry

2010-05-19T08:17:00.000-07:00

The easiest way to make a ten hour bus drive bearable is to drive through the beautiful mountain and sea coast are of Ireland’s Ring of Kerry.

On Tuesday, we left our hotel in Cork for our next destination in Killarney. You can get there in about an hour and a half, but with its snake-like roadways and mountainous terrain, the detour to ride through the Ring of Kerry added another eight hours to the trip.

Unfortunately, the thick gray fog and heavy rain made it impossible to see five feet from our tour bus at times. It did lend to some epic pictures though. We stopped half a dozen times at scenic locations and I think I finally got the hang of the panoramic option on my Kodak Easy Share camera.

A couple hours into our journey we stopped to watch a sheep dog demonstration. The fifth generation herder had his two Border Collies trained to a ‘T’. With a system composed of a series of quick whistles, it seemed as though he command those canines to put those sheep wherever he wanted.

Once we pulled into our hotel at Killarney, we headed to the Danny Mann, ‘the Most Famous Pub in Ireland,’ if you choose to believe the talented advertising whiz who came up with the marquee. I don’t quite know what Danny Mann is named after, but it has something with some guy who killed his wife by pushing her into a lake or bog? If you have anything to add to that, please let me know.

The bar had a pair of traditional folk musicians called Irish Wavers. They played all the St. Patrick’s Day favorites: “Molly Malone,” “Galway Girl” and a certain song about breakfast rolls. What made this experience even better in hindsight was the fact that a couple of us went to a nightclub with a cover band, and “Galway Girl” was one of the songs that they played.

Red FM and the Story of Blarney Castle

2010-05-17T10:08:00.000-07:00

On Monday, our group of media students traveled to Cork’s Red FM. Even though Cork is the second largest city in Ireland, Red FM is one of only two radio stations in the county.

The differences between the Irish and American markets are staggering.

First of all, Red FM was assigned wavelength from 104-106 FM, I can only assume that this is due to the fact that there are less stations. In addition, BDI - the Irish Government’s regulating body- regulates content much more strictly (if you can imagine that) than the FCC. For example, commentators and DJs are not allowed to mention drinking what-so-ever. No jokes about getting ripped after work or being hung over during a broadcast, no mention of bar specials, nothing that could portray alcohol in a positive light.

Colin O’Sullivan, the Program Director and Co-CEO of Red FM, said that this can be a tricky obstacle to overcome.

“You can only broadcast from a pub if it is verified that it is acting as a venue and not as a pub,” O’Sullivan said. “You can’t broadcast beer specials. This restricts promotions but you have to be creative.”

In addition, advertising teams are held back by the fact that they are only able to air ten minutes of advertising per hour. This is not an accumulative number, mind you, this is every hour. All Irish radio stations are required to play a percentage of minutes in Irish Gaelic.

“Irish was forced upon children in high school,” said Eilish Barry, Irish-Gaelic announcer. She explained that the school system used to force students to pass a Gaelic proficiency test to graduate from secondary school. “Because of this, a lot of students have a negative connotation associated with the language. We try to change this by using it in new and exciting ways.”

Personally, I think it’s great that the Irish are trying to revive a language that was in its final death throes. Despite the problems that have been encountered, the idea seems as though its picking up steam - at least to me it does. Hell, if French Canadians can force relevance in the fabric of greater Canadian society, it doesn’t seem too far off that the Irish can do it with Gaelic. If nothing else, it would be a convenient to talk crap on other Europeans when traveling abroad.

The possible highlight of the trip to Red FM was the fact that fellow graduate student Andy McNeil had the foresight to ask the programming director about local bands. As a result, we got the two-disc compilation of contemporary Irish pop and rock and roll that we’re listening to right now as we work on our blogs. Score!

After the trip to Red FM, we traveled to Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone. Even though thousands of tourists had their lips on it and I’ve been told by enough Irish Nationals that bored college students creep into the castle to piss on the stone, I couldn’t help it. Kissing the Blarney Stone is supposed to grant you the gift of gab and increase your story telling abilities. If I happen to be a better speaker when I get home, you’ll know the cause.

Cobh

2010-05-16T15:00:00.000-07:00

On the long drive from Dublin to Cobh, our motor coach stopped at the Round Tower and chapel remains Glendaloch. If the internet connection allows me, I’ll add some photographs of that stop.

The time scale of some of these buildings is almost inconceivable. These ruins dated from the 11th century. Just think of all of the souls that have passed through these structures. Just off of the grounds there was a massive graveyard, a hodge-podge of markers from over the past centuries. Yet, people are still buried on the grounds. I believe the latest tombstone that we saw was dated 2002, but I’m sure there are later ones in there.

Once we got into Cobh, we were taken on a tour of Cork Harbor and learned some of the history behind the Titanic, which sailed from these shores.

I’ll write more about this in tomorrow’s blog, but right now I’m beat and we have a lot of stuff planned tomorrow, starting at 7 a.m. promptly.

Road Trip!

2010-05-16T11:17:00.000-07:00

Desperately in need of a way to get some quotes from a Real Estate Agent for my final web project, I decided it would be a good idea to grab one of those pay-as-you go cell phones.

As it were, each of the students in my group has to come up with a final project. We've been working on it all term and our work on the island the grand finale.

I decided to do a little digging into the real estate climate in Ireland, with a quaint, existential comparison between Dublin and Pittsburgh’s markets as my final article. So, all of the e-mails I had been sending while doing preliminary research at home amounted to nothing. You see, all of my contacts hinged on me calling once I arrived in country to set up a viewing and my ‘Droid Communication Device’ saw to it that for all of the ‘Googleplex Supercomputer’ web browsing and GPS Map navigation I do at home, the thing amounted to an inert plastic alarm clock over here (this feature didn’t even work correctly - the time never changed over and for that matter, would lose or gain time throughout the night).

Anyway, I woke up at 9 a.m on Saturday morning and decided I would hoof it to the nearest phone stand.

Easier said than done.

Eventually, I ended up making my way to the Grafton Street area and found a Post Office (Sean-Oifig an Phoist in Irish Gaelic), and bought a Postfone with a 40 Euro card. I ended up speaking to a realtor from a mid-sized Irish firm and got some really good quotes. He was a real help and I look forward to posting the final product on the www.PittsburghFreePress.com website.

A weight lifted from my shoulders after bagging the well-timed and much sought after interview, my afternoon was freed up to meet my friends Grainne and Craig. From nearby County Meath, they took a train into Dublin and met me in Temple Bar area. I first ran into the two when they were studying in Pittsburgh at Duquesne University, never thinking that we would ever be sharing beers in Ireland. We ate at an Italian restaurant (starter, meal and glass of wine for 12.50 Euro) and then went to a pub to watch the championship soccer game between Chelsea and Portsmouth. Craig explained how Portsmouth was an underdog because they were in a lower league, so I rooted for them in their 1-0 loss.

Grainne had to work the next day at the Nobber Village Festival, apparently a big deal in the area. “It’s the only day out of the year I can’t get out of work,” she explained. I told her it was fine and thanked her for making her way to Dublin. As their 6 o’clock train neared to take them back, they convinced me to stay the night in Meath. Actually, they wouldn't take no for an answer.

When will you ever get the chance to stay the night in a real Irish town,” she said. The inner sociologist/anthropologist in me finally caved in and I got on the bus with them to spend the night on Grainne’s couch.

The contrast between busy Dublin and slow Meath spanned light years. I toured the family’s house, which has been in existence and inhabited by the same family line since 1750, give or take 10 years. I toured the town’s three pubs, one of which was owned by Grainne’s father’s cousin and had an original print of the Irish newspaper that announced the 1916 uprising. I met her family - her niece spoke Irish-Gaelic to me and drew me a picture. I was crooned by a local ‘hero’ who sang songs whose origins spanned generations but were all about the village we were in. A guitar and harmonica were broken out and the whole bar sang a rousing rendition of “Country Roads”, led by yours truely – twice. I woke up to a full breakfast complete with sausage and lovely notes thanking me for visiting both from Grainne and her mother before her father drove me the hour back to Dublin at 7 a.m. to make my bus. He would not accept any gas money.

What can you say about a night like that other than surreal.

Belfast

2010-05-15T08:15:00.000-07:00

It is absolutely impossible to grasp how different Northern Ireland is from the Republic of Ireland until you travel from one to the other. Likewise, you cannot fully comprehend the profound level of conflict going on during the Troubles unless one tours the ravaged city streets as I did today.

If you grew up with a Protestant, Irish –born grandmother as I did, you may have had some explanation as to why Protestants and Catholics didn’t get along. And if, like me, you are a history junkie, you may have watched innumerable documentaries that have chronicled the human cost the two ideologies inflicted on one another over the centuries. You may have seen the painted murals honoring ski-masked, gun-toting Irish Republican Army and Ulster Volunteer Force members and heard interviews with eyewitnesses.

Despite this, nothing can prepare you for the sheer scope of the conflict that occurred during the Troubles until you see the Shankill Road area in Ireland. The large, militarized fences, the caged in windows, the burnt shells of bombed out buildings, the armored police cars – words and pictures cannot describe the uneasiness that settles in your stomach unless you actually ride through the streets yourself.
A visit to the offices of The Belfast Telegraph helped put the story into context.
Unlike many modern newspapers, you could tell this building housed a newspaper blindfolded. The smell of ink gives me the impression that The Belfast Telegraph is printed on the premises.

Man, I love the smell of newspaper ink…

“There was once a bomb in the carrier van,” Director of Digital Development Gerry Patterson explained to our class. “The paper was targeted, so anything they could do to harm us, they’d try.”

Patterson looks dapper in his Chuck Taylors and blue overcoat. Very much the prim gentleman one would expect to find in a press room in the North.
Like many other features, the North varied vastly in its online media consumption and capabilities than its neighbor in the Republic.

“It’s 100 percent broadband here,” Patterson said. “Even in the rural areas.”
For 14 years, he has worked online, making his newspaper an innovator in digital media. Like his contemporaries in the Republic, Patterson said that a large market for their online publication is expatriates and the ancestors of emigrants. He said that that only re-packaging they partake in is the re-writing of headlines.

“Many of our headlines wouldn’t make any sense to anyone else in the world who isn’t from Northern Ireland,” he said. “After we write new headlines so that our stories show up on search engines” it gets picked up abroad.

“The expatriate audience loves to read what we publish anyway.”

Dr. Flynn Wonderful World of Mass Media

2010-05-13T13:18:00.001-07:00

There was a nightclub in Ireland willing to play the Pittsburgh vs. Montreal game last night. Six or seven of us went to Buskers in the Temple Bar area of Dublin to watch game seven. Unfortunately our team, the Pittsburgh Penguins, lost. An even greater misfortune was the fact that there was an obnoxious group of French Canadians who were attracted by the chalk board advertising the game. Now I understand why so many people from the other provinces in Canada have told us so many horror stories.
Even despite my heavy heart after the game, I managed to have fun. In fact, as I told Micky, last night was the most fun I’ve ever had after watching my team’s season end in the playoffs. I usually just mope along to my bedroom and call it a night.
So with a freshly shaven face this afternoon, I met up with the rest of the group before heading back to DCU for our second lecture from Communications Professor Dr. Roddy Flynn, who, in addition to being an excellent speaker, seems like the kind of professor it would be a lot of fun to drink a couple pints with while you’re picking their brain. Todays talk revolved around the internet and Ireland’s digital media, or often, lack thereof.
Dr. Flynn stressed the importance of the Irish diasporas in the molding of internet news moving on. Although only 4 million reside in the Republic of Ireland nearly 100 million people claim Irish ancestry, myself included. The Irish Times recently found that two thirds of clicks on their website emanated from outside of the country in other Anglophone countries. Dr. Flynn explained that these were emigrants and the children of emigrants.
Later, we went to Irish Press Association studios, a photography wire located in the city. Ammon, one of the photographers who started the service in 1981, showed us a number of photo montages based around different themes (unfortunately, they all had the same stock music background). These included slideshows of news events, like the Troubles, pro and anti-abortion protests, the economic boom and subsequent downturn and the public relation photographs that they’ve been forced to do in recent years.

Dan the Man Rooney

2010-05-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

A meeting with the sitting U.S ambassador to a foreign country would be an honor for any traveler. When that ambassador is also chairman emeritus of the six-time Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers, the experience becomes surreal.

A group of Point Park University students touring in Ireland as part of a course had just this experience on May 12 when they visited the U.S. Embassy and Ambassador Dan Rooney.

The trip to a foreign embassy was the highlight of the trip for a majority of the students. The embassy building, a five-story circular structure with a conference room floor, was a study in 1960s architecture design.

Once I made it through security, I couldn’t help but to look out of the gate and think about all of the conflict that has gone on at similar gates at embassies across the globe. I mentally reenacted the scenes that have been made immortal, or more accurately infamous, through newsreels in places like Kenya and Iran over the years.

The embassy grounds are a lot smaller than one would imagine. Even so, it was cool to see Old Glory waving in all her majesty high above the compound.

The small, circular building has some interesting architecture features for sure. Gold railings complimented alternate convex, concave curves. Plaques honoring U.S. achievements hang on the wall. Scenes from past space missions with American and/or Irish flags hung on the walls. In a wood and glass case sat a Harlem Globetrotters signed basketball. An opposite case is filled with a bust of bronze Abraham Lincoln and a miniature recreation of sailboat that carried early emigrants to America.

Once he met us – he was late because he received an unexpected phone call from the President of Ireland, Mary McAleese - Rooney’s explained that a lot of the work he has been doing has revolved around encouraging and facilitating Ireland’s commitments to green energy infrastructure. The previous day, he had been a part of a tri-lateral meeting of leaders from Ireland, Northern Ireland and the United States.

“In Ireland,” Rooney said, “[renewable energy] is a special thing. We have wind and now we’re working on wave technology.”

It did this heart good that Ambassador Rooney seemed to enjoy our company.

“You look like a fine group of Pittsburghers. You make me feel at home,” he told us.

Instant Coffee?!

2010-05-11T07:46:00.001-07:00

It’s already Tuesday, eh?

The days are flying by now. Helping them along was an agenda-packed day yesterday. Monday saw a 15 hour day by the time we got back to the Augustine Apartments. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but the apartments Point Park has us housed in are pretty awesome. As graduate students, Andy and I have a ballin’ suite on the top floor. Our ‘penthouse’ (loose usage of the word) apartment has a bed for each of us and a pull-out couch just in case we meet any vagabonds that need a place to stay.

Waking up on three hours of sleep was pretty brutal, but making it worse was the fact that there’s not a real cup of coffee to seen anywhere we’ve been. Sure, there’s a barista a couple blocks away, but I haven’t had time to get there and get back without being late for our morning check-in time. In rooms for rent, apartments and hotels are fitted with coffee makers. That is not the case for Augustine. Rather, the complimentary morning station is filled with tea and ‘instant’ coffee, which seems to be following me everywhere. In addition to being stocked in the rooms, they gave it to us in the waiting room of Frontline and it was all they offered at the grocery store, Lidle’s. They didn’t even offer a reusable strainer for me to ‘McGyver’ a contraption the way I did when I was in Vancouver. Heck, they didn’t even offer real coffee grinds.

Luckily, they offered it to us at the PR lecture we received this morning. The first real cup I’ve had since landing.

Well, we have the rest of the day off, so I need to lay down so I can get up and get a walkabout on. We won’t be able to stay out late tonight, but I definitely want to get some of the wanderlust I’ve had been accumulating out of my system.

Tales from a dreary, cold Dublin Monday.

2010-05-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

Greetings!

I am frozen to my core right now...

Our group went on a double decker bus tour through Dublin today. Early on, it wasn't too bad, but later in the afternoon the temperature went down into the 40's F, and as our tourguide zipped down the highway (on the left side of the road), it got to be brutally cold. There were too many in our group to go down into the warmth of the lower level of the bus, so I decided to tough it out on the exposed upper level. Even after eating a hearty bowl of lamb stew from O'Shea's Merchant on Bridge Street, my bones are still cold. Maybe I should've ordered a hot toddy.

Earlier in the day we traveled to Dublin City University (DCU) and heard a lecture on the Irish print from Dr. Roderick Flynn of that institution’s communications department. Now, I have to admit I was a little worried. Some of us chose to go out and chance a few after we were done with our assignments last night. After making friends with Chris, the barkeep at Thomas House and spending perhaps a little too much time there, I was a little nervous pondering the prospect of listening to a two hour lecture in my groggy state. However, Dr. Flynn was really interesting and kept my attention the entire time – I didn’t even nod my head once! I guess I’m just a nerd when it comes to the press and the all of the differences in market and law that have such a big impact on what is available for you to read every morning. Anyway Dr. Flynn, if you’re reading this, I was pleasantly surprised. It was a kick for me to see the old school projector too, something that has been replaced in the states.

Oh well, I have to run right now because we’re going to go watch the filming of Frontline, an Irish-produced political talk show. If you happen to have RTE while you’re reading this, check it out and see if you see me on TV!

Dublin, day 1

2010-05-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

I believe I’ve taken my road warrior status to a new level these past few days…

I won’t get too long-winded with my assessment of our first day in the Emerald Isle, as I just finished an article for the website, but I will tell you that thus far I’ve had a great time, and it’s not just because my beloved Pittsburgh Penguins NHL ice hockey franchise pulled a 2-1 win over the Montreal Canadiens in the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

It was an insane flight, but nothing compared to the five-flight nightmare that I endured on my travel back from Vancouver for the Olympics. However, it has been a struggle of wills to stay on course after a seven-hour, red-eye flight from Pennsylvania on little more than caffeine and trips.

I’ve had potato and leek soup twice today and couldn’t be happier about it. The first sampling, at the Metro café, was delicious (pictured) and I have to admit was my favorite of the two. The second was at our group dinner at the Brazen Head. This comfort food reminds me of my dearest Irish-born grandmother, Margaret McNeill, may she rest in peace, and of my mother’s excellent skillet sensations.

With this many students in a group dynamic such as this, it seems only a matter of time until the powder keg of dramatics enter the arena, but thus far everyone has been great and bore a smile through everything.

Penguin fatigue

2010-05-08T11:23:00.000-07:00

Hello friends, and thank you for logging into my blog!

Right now our troupe of students and professors is waiting to board out first flight from Pittsburgh to Philladelphia. I just was informed that I will be fortunate enough to watch the first couple periods of the Pittsburgh Penguins' Stanley Cup Playoff game during our layover. Oh, how I already relish the opportunity to be a Pittsburgh Yenzer in Philly during a Penguins game. Almost as exciting as last year's trip during the Can/Am tournament when I slandered a Detroid Redwing fan after a loss in the Penguins/Flyers series.

Do you believe in signs...

Cheers!

2010-04-06T16:23:00.000-07:00

Ireland isn't ready for this jelly...