Chasing Boys in Athens

When you live in a country like New Zealand, and come from a relatively immobile family like mine, Europe is a fantasy. Being in Ireland meant that I could live my fantasy of hopping around Europe and catch Pokemon. Or gain life points for myself at least. However, being a travel noob who is pretty much scared of anything and everything, I elected a companion to go with me so that if I get mugged I can run for it while she fights the thugs off, and together we planned a 9-day trip to 5 cities.

With my trusty travel companion by my side, we set forth to our first destination, Athens, the capital of Greece.

In Athena's eyes...

Athens in January is quiet, cool, and calm... actually it's flippin deserted. But the great thing about that is you can roam the streets like you own the damn place. The Acropolis Museum is amazing and free for students so make sure you go there - you will worship the Ancient Greeks for being so incredibly talented and every part of the museum is absolutely flabbergasting you can't help but take pictures despite not being allowed to. (This, I found annoying, because I was sure I could take pictures without flash - each staff member told me something different.) I was caught since there were no body else in the museum except me, my trusty companion, and twenty five security guards and was made to delete pictures on the spot. So I'm afraid no sneak peeks here but the mystery makes it better, right? Since now, you really must go and see for yourself.

Unfortunately January is the big renovation month for the Acropolis, so we could only admire it from afar. The Acropolis may be worth another visit to Greece when it is warmer and sunnier, in sandals and a sheer Grecian summer dress. :)

The view from a cliff. Couldn't help but think we were missing out.

The museum and the walk to Acropolis was intentional, but the other sights were stumbled on, influenced by a messy tourist map and two very handsome occiputs.

The pair of good-looking occiputs belonged to two Japanese guys whom we spotted at Starbucks cafe. (By the way, when you're in Greece, don't waste your money drinking normal coffee like Starbucks - Greek coffee is PRECIOUS.) We tried ridiculous methods to attract their attention but they would not give us a single glance. We sat on the table next to them, a-hemming, ka-chooing, then wheezing and sneezing as if to spread the next round of the plague (creepy, much?). But no. We'd walk to the bathroom and back just to pass their table but we sorta overdid the staring bit because they started shifting in their seats rather uncomfortably before throwing away their half-empty frappuccinos and bolting for the door.

But my trusty companion and I were not going to give up that easily, oho no no. We ran straight after them, and when we saw the two black occiputs turning left, we pranced after them like two kittens after noms. Along our way we saw some of this -

Changing of the guards in Syntagma Square. Yes, a guy CAN look awesome in a dress, tights, pompom, and tassels!

I knew I should have made notes about what this is...

... and this... 

... and this.

A thousand apologies for the lack of information. I have a habit of taking pictures of nice things and not remembering what the hell it was. "Garden in Athens with building with Greek flag and white columns" does not work on Google either. If you know what these photos represent, please leave a comment below.

Long story short those two boys kept dodging us like red laser dots, finally jumping onto a train headed towards the airport. We called it a night and decided to drink our sorrows away, pondering this short meaningful relationship we had and its rejection.

Although it didn't feel like it, Athens is meant to be one of the safest cities in the world. So even if the impression is dodgy, explore the city as much as you can for beer, food, and cheap markets, especially in Monastiraki square. There are many stray dogs but they are extrememly gentle, and the people - although may look fierce, are friendly too. We only stayed for one night, and I guess that was not enough to get a proper feel of the city, especially since half that time was spent on driving two Japanese boys out of the country (oh god why). So go in the summer, and stay for more than a day, and your Athenian enjoyment will be tenfold.

P.S. I Love You

This blog isn't about the movie but now that I have your attention let me tell you about the Glendalough Mountains in County Wicklow, Ireland. The significance of this place, is, as well as being the film location for the movie P.S. I Love You flashbacks, is also one of the most used film location in Europe (The Tudors, Ballykissangel, Braveheart, Excalibur, King Arthur, Reign of Fire, Becoming Jane, Lassie, and Ella Enchanted to name a few). Its scenery deserves such praise because of its utter magnificence, where one can truly feel the awesomeness of God's (or Mother Nature's) workmanship whilst wandering through the mountains like an ant being dropped in a new garden. (By the way, I havent' actually seen the movie P.S I Love You. I know it is supposed to be heart-warming and good for the soul and inspires you to live life in a certain way you never thought before, but it's just one of those movies I never got around to seeing. I'll get to it someday. Someday. So even for those who haven't seen the movie and thinking you're missing out, 'tis fine, you will still be impressed coming here. I haven't seen the movie and the adventure was rather spiffing.)

There are various ways to get to Co. Wicklow from Dublin city. The easiest is by a Wicklow bus that is especially designed for tourists, which stops at all the significant places in between until they safely escaort you to Glendalough Mountains and safely bring you back to Dublin at the end of the day.

Or you can do what we did and take the DART train and get off somewhere that is roughly estimated to be county Wicklow and onto a tiny desolate train platform and walk out of the dismal station only to find trees and more trees and no buildings and just trees. But no fear, the Garda (Irish policemen) are very friendly people and after a few hours of drifting in the woods they will find you, and will kindly escort you to your destination.

Garda - Irish police, and where we ended up instead of the bus station.

Once you get to Glendalough Mountains, you can find a handy little map in the information centre. This map tells you about all the different kind of walks you can take about the mountain, ranging from a mild hour-long scenic stroll to six hours of rocks, swamps, slippery planks testing your sense of balance and slopes that tear your thighs. We took the four hour route, which involved enough rocks to keep our muscles busy and enough flat land for us to trek and admire the scenery - and saw these incredible things:

And this church:

I love this bit. Old and romantic.

And this rock:

Trying to be Anderson's The Little Mermaid,

Some advice though. If you go in the winter like I did - dress warm, with a good beanie, good earmuffs, and good trainers that won't freeze your toes if you slip off a plank and into a stream. As you approach higher up the mountain you can almost feel the wind cut into one ear and out the other like a blade and it is very easy to end up with an awful headache from the incessant wind-slashing. Or go when it's warmer. Yeah, do that. The sun will stay out for longer too so you'll have more time to appreciate the scenery.

The Glendalough Mountains also attract many rock climbers. Spot the rock climber! (Hint: He's on the right side of the mountain, about twice the size of this full stop -->.)

At the base of the mountain there is a fancy restaurant for the wonderfully wealthy and a hot dog stall for the pathetically poor. So there's a reward for all after the hike.

Glendalough Mountains is a majestic place. However, the hiking/walking route is all this place has to offer, so be sure to remove yourself from the area before the last bus departs (this must be booked in advance), otherwise you'll be left in the dark among closed information points waiting for that nice policeman to pass by again. And by god aren't we glad he did.

Happy St Patrick's!

Let's jump a bit to March 2012, St Patricks Day. In order not to confuse the few of you lovely people caring enough to read my blog I will make clear that there is a five-month-gap between the last blog entry and this one. For those who find alteration in chronological sequences of events disturbing I will try to keep a smooth linear relationship between events and time progression, and be sure to alert you if there is a small corruption in the system. For the majority of you, however, will not give a rat's ass about such things and that is fine too.

So this weekend is St Patrick's Weekend, where hundreds and thousands from all parts of the world flocked to Dublin to drink and be merry, to buy Irish souvenirs and help the economy, to listen and imitate the Irish accent, and to stand at the front row and watch the parade wearing massive green leprechaun hats in order to obstruct the view of others standing behind them.

Oh the greenery!

I heard that people will already be drunk by 10am on St Patrick's Day. As fun as that sounds, it does tend to make the city a wee bit messy. As soon as I set foot on the streets from my apartment around 11 in the morning I passed a policeman shouting at a drunken man, "Are ye f**king pissing there? Stop pissing!" with the man responding with "I can't f**king stop now, can I?" and the policeman yelling, "Ye f**king disgrace!" I have never seen so many people tinkle the walls in broad daylight since the six-hour-bus drive to an ad-lib camping area in primary school.

St Patricks means a lot more to the Irish than shamrock face paints and guilt-free alcohol - it is a celebration of Ireland and everything Irish. (Have no idea where the saint comes in here.) Dublin, proud to be designtaed as the European City of Science for 2012, used this theme for their parade this year. Different Irish counties (Galway, Dublin, Waterford, Donegal, Wexford) each represented different areas of science (electicity, climatology, human biology etc) in their utmost creativity. I will leave you to decide which county was responsible for which science.

Wexford

Waterford

Galway

Dublin

And one of the twelve marching bands... (apologies for the poor camera work, hard to know what camera is doing when it is raised eight inches above my head :P)

The Irish Craft Beer Festival is where you can try different types of exclusively Irish beer accompanied by less exclusive Irish live music and even less exclusive Irish food. But the atmosphere is great and plenty of beer and food to make you stick around for the afternoon.

Chocolate stout (brewed by Porterhouse) - smells like chocolate with a chocolately aftertaste. Amazing.

This weekend was also an excuse to line up bland roads with lively, colourful things like funfair rides and green lighting.

Illuminated shops

I've never seen Dublin so crowded during my time here since Christmas Eve. When 500,000 people flock to a small city in one weekend, things get pretty intense - even as I write I am hearing many an excited scream and jovial bellows. However, you do need a pretty leathery system in order to keep up with St Patricks in Dublin (and in all other countries celebrating it, I assume). So if you're like me and gets a tad sleepy after a pint or two, arrange small breaks like updating your blog before heading out again.

Archaeology Rocks

Exchange programmes usually allow you to take a few papers outside your general specialisation. This meant that I could take it a little bit easier on my own major and prod around a bit more on other subjects, like archaeology.

The introductory course for Archaeology in UCD (ARCH10010 - or Archeology 101 in Auckland terms) is interesting but since it was an early morning lecture I couldn't help but miss it every now and then. (Fine, 11am isn't early at all but it is before noon, hence morning, hence early.) The point of taking archaeology is not lectures though, it's field trips, and handling whips, and wearing fedoras, and deciphering ancient codes, and escaping poison arrows from tribal men.

The first field trip we went to was the Hill of Tara. This hill is an archaeological complex in County Meath, and contains a number of ancient monuments, and, according to tradition, was the seat of the High Kind of Ireland (thank you Wikipedia). You can look up the specific archaeological details on your own at this link: http://www.megalithicireland.com/Hill%20of%20Tara.htm. But here's the thing about Hill of Tara - if you don't have an eye for the geophysics of medieval Irish archaeology, don't go. To the untrained eye, the Hill of Tara is nothing but an extremely large area of bumpy grass. Unless you go on a plane for an aerial view (which then looks like awesome crop circles), you won't know what you're doing or looking at walking around this place. If you still decide to go, it may be worth investing on a good guide and good, sturdy wellingtons/galoshes/gumboots/rainboots in winter.

How archaeologists see it.

How I see it.

These burial monuments are fun to run up. And perhaps roll down on a warm, sunny day.

Our second archeology field trip was based on the National Museum of Archaeology. Unlike the Hill of Tara, this place is a great place to gather basic knowledge about Irish archaeology, and you don't need to be an archaeological expert to be impressed with what's behind the showcases. I came here once more after the field trip for my own enjoyment. Lots to see and ponder and be inspired from the wit we have descended from. Photography is strictly prohibited but here are some sneak peeks.

Bog body, God knows how he ended up like this.

Two men throwing dogs at giant Me Gusta.

There is also a very sociable Archaeology society in UCD (life-size Indiana Jones poster and lollipops lured me in during Fresher's week). I didn't get to attend all their events but they have medieval walking tours hosted by good looking archaeological tutors, plus archaeology-themed movie nights, large-scale archaeology field trips, and guest speakers who are giants in this field. I wish I attended more of their events but since I joined every society offering goody bags, I ended up not being able to handle all of them.

Much to my disappointment we didn't fight snakes or ancient tribes or repel voodoo spells or get to run from big rolling boulders, but then again all that could have happened in them early morning classes when I was too busy being lazy and playing Monkey Island V. Maybe this semester I'll actually go to campus so that I stop sounding like a dimwit on my blog.

Ain't Never Seen Nothing Like A Galway Fog

Everyone loves Galway, that's what an old woman at the Guinness Storehouse told me. Too bad my first experience there was perfectly horrendous - an exhausting four hour bus drive from Dublin, a nauseating bus tour in Aran Islands, the Cliffs of Moher leaden with fog... It didn't help going along with two hundred other international students who were already arranged into tight cliques, leaving me in an awkward limbo between groups and not really fitting in. Here are some bleak, foggy pictures of my first trip to Galway.

Follow the brick road into the clouds and ye shall find a pot o' dew. At Cliffs of Moher.

Aran Islands. Fog is so thick, fish are probably swimming in there.

Around Halloween 2011, while my housemates were planning a vodka monopoly weekend (read blogpost "Our Lady of Guadalupe Residence") I decided to give Galway another go, this time with a smaller group from UCD. The old woman was right, I did end up enjoying Galway. Not as much as Dublin, but Galway was good, and spending Halloween there really spiced up the atmosphere.

The Cliffs of Moher (in County Clare, south of Galway) are the top most visited tourist locations in Ireland. The big deal about this place is that there are like lots of cliffs. And it's like totally really high. And there's water like far far down there. And the water is totally like all splashing onto the cliffs like. Ok, it's hard for me to explain it so here are some pictures.

Cliffs of Moher. Apologies for the poor quality.

A lot better view of O'Brien Tower

Aran Islands in the distant horizon.

It may not seem like much but the visit may be more meaningful for you if I said a few episodes of Father Ted was filmed here and maybe (just maybe) a scene in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was filmed here too.

The O'Brien's Tower on the Cliffs of Moher is more of a viewing point for tourists than anything else. You pay two euro to go about five metres above ground level and you get to see this -

- and perhaps bits of the Aran Island on a fine sunny day. Not worth two euro unless the cliffs are very crowded and you want to remove yourself from the danger of being pushed over into the sea.

I should warn you to pack an emergency sick bag on the way to the Cliffs of Moher (located in County Clare) from Galway. The long and winding road tends to curve into itself like soft rubber (or so it felt while I slept), and the bus has no choice but to break every three seconds to bend corners. Some people just can't handle their guts being swished around like that for extended periods of time. The scenery is lovely though, so hopefully your stomach will stay intact when you shotgun the window seat and distract yourself by looking at the hand-built stone walls and farm animals.

The Aran Islands consist of three islands - Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inisheer. Inishmore is the one you should be looking at going, and there is more than one way to have a look around. The worst way is by a tour bus. After 40 minutes on the ferry sailing through the rough seas of West Ireland, you do not want to spend another hour bumping along a narrow road on a bus. Rent a bike for a day instead, and bike around the island at your own pace. Or try the more romantic course of hiring a horse and carriage, with a Man of Aran as your personal footman. I would have taken a picture of this but I was too busy trying to look graceful pedalling behind them in the rain.

As I mentioned, I visited Galway during Halloween, so I got to see the Halloween parade. It was a bit crowded and all the people were high just from dressing up (particularly Wallies/Waldos... so many of them...) kept shoving me around so these are the best photos I could take.

So much fun being a gymnast.

The back of someone's head. I mean an out-of-focus Halloween float.

At the end of the trip I was happy I gave Galway another shot. However, unless Father Dougal McGuire asks me to tea on Craggy Island, I don't think it's somewhere I want to go back to yet.

Dublin's Chinatown

The food gets a tad repetitive when staying at the catered residence of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Dinner is great when you come home hungry from campus but the predictable menu (which hasn't been changed for years) is at times depressing, and you realise there is a fairly narrow limit to the different way potatoes can be cooked, despite what you've heard your mother say. A few weeks into Dublin had me craving homecooked Asian food, a food substance the sisters in the residence didn't touch. Not that I was asking for much. I wasn't expecting mum's awesome Korean barbeque or her fantastic soups, I just wanted something that used more than a small pinch of chilli flakes. (Having said that, I'm not good with hot food but I like to kid myself that I am, and make people think I'm a badass with chilli when actually my tongue is beating itself up in agony.) And thus started my hunt for the Asian flavour in Dublin.

(Just to clarify - for "Asian" here I am referring to Far-East Asia. I know Indian food is also Asian but bear with me for now as I talk about Chinese/Korean/Japanese food only for a while.)

The Asian population in Dublin is not as great as Auckland, probably not even a quarter of what Auckland has. But still, where Asians go, they have a habit of establishing a wee habitat of their own - a Chinatown if you will - complete with funny smells, budget signs, vinyl table covers, and displays of suspicious-looking roasted animals. There is a small Chinatown area on Parnell Street and maybe a little bit more on Capel Street where there are Karaoke Booths for both the ecstatic and the broken hearted. There are shops and restaurants selling hot food that do disgrace to your rear end but if you're all into that idea of finding pleasure in painfully menacing dishes then you'll be happy you had it. This blog will tell you where you can find such incredible Asian food in Dublin.

One of the first places I went to was the Asian Market on some street somewhere. Unfortunately I can't remember the street name or where it is relative to other Dublin landmarks, but I can tell you that such a place exists, and it is simply called Asian Market. (Being a dreadful photograher doesn't help - I swear I will work on this and put up pictures for your convenience in the near future.) Perhaps you can let your nose guide you there. When you get quite close you can already smell soy sauce and coriander and curry paste and dried beef jerkies and dried squid jerkies and dried pork jerkies and semi-dried squid jerkies and semi-dried unknown animal meat but tastes real good jerkies and semi-dried is it fish or meat jerkies. This place sells mainly Chinese food though, and a small selection (if any) of other Asian food. There is also a good collection of Chinese newspapers, which is handy for paper mache, paper planes, paper hats, rolling up to kill large spiders, reading, puzzles, and other things for rainy days. Students get a discount of 10% so that's great.

There is also an exclusively Korean market on Great Strand Street called Hanyang, where you can get 10% off (or was it 15%) for Koreans. I've never been there myself but for all your Korean instant ramen needs this is the place to go.

But food is best when it is cooked by professionals and served to you while you lazily sit around and wait for it.There are some terrific Chinese/Korean, Korean/Japanese restaurants in Dublin that will plant a permanent craving into your system after you've experienced what they've got to offer. I had such an experience with lamb skewers. I've never tasted anything like that in my life and I'm not sure if there is a place in Auckland that makes comparable heavenly wonders - goodness knows how I'll live without them now. But those lamb skewers! And so cheap too! (Apparently very expensive compared to China, but I don't know that yet, allow me to be blissfully ignorant.) The best place to find these godsends are at Hilan (Chinese/Korean restaurant on Capel St) and JinGangShan (Chinese) on Parnell Street. Match that with TsingTao beer and ohhhh my goddddd you will grow wings. Each skewer costs around one euro (1.50 for Hilan, but their skewers are a lot chubbier) so it's not too harsh your student wallet. Too bad the skewers are only served after a particular time - 4pm for Hilan and 6pm for JinGangShan. Otherwise I would have spent many a lunchtimes there - alone if I must - savouring the marvels. I went there for dinner alone once and ordered five of them (mine! all mine!) and also received a free pot of green tea and a very large bowl of prawn crackers. They didn't accept card and I didn't have cash so the friendly staff let me go without paying. Best foreveralone dinner ever.

There's a restaurant called M&L in Thomas Lane (just off O'Connell Street) that does amazing spicy dishes (spicy fish, spicy intestine etc). If you're from East Asia they will greet you in Mandarin and give you a menu entirely in Chinese and no amount of "I'm not Chinese, we talked about this yesterday" will make them speak English. However, everything written in the Chinese menu is about two euro cheaper than the English menu so take along a Chinese friend and get them to do all the talking.

Spicy Intestine and Spicy Fish. *Drool*

For Korean food, you must go to Kimchi/Hop House on Parnell Street. The food is great, but the final bill tends brings about a heavy silence to the table at the end of the evening. But for high quality Korean food, it is worth it. Also it is the only place I know of that sells Korean alcohol such as soju or makguli or Hite beer, and it is expensive, but you know you're gonna pay for it anyway.

There is also the ever-popular Yo! Sushi in Dublin, but for the best deals hit the place on Monday when every dish is 3 euro. Like all rotating sushi buffets, the cost of your meal adds up with an uncanny speed, and the tiny Japanese portions leave you wondering whether you ate anything at all. Still, best place that does the trick on them salmon sashimi cravings.

The variety and development of Asian food in Dublin is very impressive, I'm tempted to say it is a lot better than Auckland. Then again I don't think I had the chance to really miss such food in Auckland - luckily Dublin can satisfy those who need the occasional chilli burn in their system.

Our Lady of Guadalupe Residence - The Info You Really Want

A year of exchange should mould a student's independence, confidence, and wit, and allow her to kick off her shoes and let her hair down and do what the hell she wants without anyone judging her or tell her what she should be doing instead. Or so I thought. Until I stepped foot into my new residence in September 2011.

There is annoyingly little information (and misleading impressions based on the little there is) on the Internet about Our Lady of Guadalupe Residence, so I will be doing someone a favour by explaining everything about it here.

Our Lady of Guadalupe Residence is a residence in Stillorgan, south of Dublin, and is  run by nuns. If you are a devout Catholic, dislike drinking, in bed by 11pm, retired, and relatively asexual, this is the perfect place for you. However, for a young adult anticipating freedom and adventure for a year, it is hard to accept the many rules and restrictions that come with living in a place like Guadalupe Residence. But as the saying goes (is it a saying? I may have made it up), where there are rules, there are ways. And learn these ways, you will.

Welcome to my crib.

For those intending to come to Our Lady of Guadalupe Residence, be sure that you are ok with living with a curfew. Every night at 11.30pm (there are some exceptions, such as 3am on Fridays and midnight on weekends with prior notice) the outer-most door for the female building is locked up with a special key by one of the nuns. (The guys who live here are not subject to curfews, stupid ancient sexist old fashioned rule I wish I could punch with green hulk gloves with.) Perhaps one good thing about being appraoched by a locked door every now and then is, with a bit of patience, you get to learn the art of lock picking. Lock picking kits can be found quite easily in hardware shops and there are many methods to show you how on Youtube. A fellow resident is now a pro at it. This is important - if there is a fire in the house and there are no sisters around to open the door, we would  burn to the ground with the ignited building if we didn't have our trusty picklock by our side. See, a life skill.

Also, if you do stay out past curfew and you made good friends with one of the guys in the residence, it is also possible to stay over at the guy's place, where they will be happy to put you in the kitchen for the night. "But it's really comfy there, there's a sofa and everything!" they'd say. Pssh. If you want your womanly dignity intact, learn how to pick locks.

Alcohol is strictly prohibited in the residence. That, combined with a 11.30pm curfew, means that drinking nights are scarce. Even if you do go out to town, the bus ride is half an hour long and you'd want to get the bus at 11pm latest to be back in time for curfew. Even you say screw the curfew imma gonna drink myself silly and take the taxi  at 4am, you'll obviously be greeted with the cold, apathetic, unyielding door and find yourself heavily intoxicated in the garden playing with the squirrels (and occasionally the odd fox!) until the doors open at 6am. You could argue that you can keep a few bottles of the ol' good stuff in your wardrobe but twice a week the sisters come into your room to vacuume and change your bedsheets. This means they can have a little peek into your wardrobe and ensure everything is ok, so if a vodka bottle is staring at her face when she opens the wardrobe it will be removed (and she probably won't tell you and you'll be all sad and confused about misplacing the darn thing).

However, drinking is not impossible. 'Tis Ireland after all.

The Guadalupe garden after 9pm is big, and dark, with a big dark corner, and if you make sure you are wearing black from head to toe, there is no chance of being seen outside a two metre radius. So you start drinking around 9pm-ish in your sneakiest black leotards and balaklava. This gives you about two and a half hours to skull down all your alcohol and crack a few silly jokes before heading back to the residence. This gets a little old after a while but it is fun while it lasts.

Also, I was away in Galway when this happened - but fellow residents tell me it is also possible to drink in the residence common room by filling a water bottle with alcohol. It's a bit teenage-prom and a little risky with the nuns walking around but if you have a board game spread amongst it all then it just looks like you are having the time of your life with monopoly and the sisters won't think much of it.

If you are one of the luckier people blessed with dashing good looks receiving admiration in bounty from the opposite sex, don't let your blessing go to waste in this residence. Although there are plenty of the young and sexy living here, there are strict geographical boundaries each gender must stick to. But as I said, where there are rules, there are ways. Not having been involved in a romantic relationship during my stay here, I am not sure how things exactly work, but I have witnessed the progression of some relationships and there seem to be ways to spend some private time together within the residence. I think it involves climbing though.

The residence is not all negative. There are some amazing people living here in Guadalupe residence. There are a handful of college students, who are all extrememly smart and rank among the highest in their classes (I guess such quiet places like Stillorgan attracts the more studious type) but also who are willing to play some serious vodka monopoly and trash the place as much as you can possibly trash a nunnery (which isn't that much but still). There are also other people of all age and culture, which sometimes leads to sophisticated political debates or historical discussions over dinner. You do learn things that way. I found out where Andorra was located on the world map.

Dinner is served and can get repetitive but when you're hungry you'll end up eating everything anyway and enjoying it too. Bring your own special sauce (mine was chili) to add a bit of kick to your usual bland, potato-based dinner and be the centre of attention during each meal. I think I made friends doing that.

All in all, Our Lady Guadalupe residence isn't too bad, even for someone without any Catholic belief or background. If you have some black clothing and can build a secret alcohol compartment in your wardrobe and know how to climb walls and windows and can act like a sir when you're drunk and can pick locks and are good at removing traces of evidence, then you will live a fairly happy life without getting booted out by the sisters. If you don't know any of the aforementioned skills, not to worry, this place will train you, if it's the only thing it does.

Just little angels? Think again...

... Don't Blink. :P