I am absolutely covered in beer.England had just scored in their first World Cup match against Italy. Plastic beer cups were flung across the London bar. I laughed, looked over at DeVon, and gave one more cheer for the Three Lions. It would be my last cheer for the English. They lost 2:1. Good ol' England!The London trip kicked off my own personal World Cup. London this weekend for the England v Italy match. Berlin next weekend for the Germany v Ghana match. Then onward to the States.There wasn't much sightseeing planned, and that, in itself, was part of the plan. DeVon, who recently moved to London, and his (Irish) girlfriend Ciara would play hosts to the weekend of football and beer. Allegiances were thrown out the window. We’d pick a bar and root like heck for that team, which is one way I found myself covered in beer during an England match in London.

A lunch time stroll through City Centre coincidentally brought me to the front door of Paddy Power, Ireland's favorite book maker. I peeked inside and immediately found the World Cup bet sheets.World Cup Top Goal Scorers: L. Suarez... L. Messi... C. Ronaldo...— Excuse me, I asked the guy behind the counter. Am I allowed to bet on a player who's not listed on this sheet?— Sure. What bet would you like to place?— Jozy Altidore, I said with my best American accent. A wry smile crossed his face.— Erm.... sure... as top goal scorer of the group...? Or...

Long weekend! Long ride! With the sun shining, I was on my bike headed south for the Wicklow Mountains. I'd like to say I knew what I was doing. I'm not here to lie though. Before I could think through just how high these mountains were or if my rusted bike would be up for the challenge, I was pushing past the Dublin city limits.The flat road of Dublin gave way to a gentle incline as I left the city. Then a bit more of an incline. I pumped my legs. More. Higher. Steeper. The sun was really beating down. My legs continued to churn. I was wearing shorts for the first time in months. When did my legs get so pale?Finally, a vista. No. Not yet. Further. Now, finally, a vista. A break. Water. Out of breath. Wow. All of Dublin unfurled below me. Beyond that, the sea. No rest for the weary though -- further! Up!

Some did it as a dare. Some did it through peer pressure. Some just didn't do it. Me? There was no way I was going to miss jumping in to that frigid Atlantic water.It was the tail end of an afternoon sea kayaking session. The sun peeked down at us as we slid out of the kayaks and under the waves. Playful. Invigorated. Shocked. We dipped our heads under the 50 degree water, then trudged our kayaks back up the beach before getting out of our wetsuits.Another Meetup group brought us out: Sea Kayaking in Bray. Brian came along, as did his friend Hanae. I paired up with a friendly Irishman as we struck out into the calm sea on a sunny day. Bray Head towered over us as we hugged the coastline. Seagulls peeked out from rock formations that seemed to bend in impossible arrays of black and crystal.

'Who's your captain?""Captain Joe.""Oh, Captain Joe is hungover. You won't be going out today lads. Sorry.""Brian and I had woken up at 6am that morning. We finished the drive across Ireland to the fishing village of Portmagee, which could best be described as the end of the world. Upon arriving in Portmagee, we were scheduled to take a boat out to Skelling Michael, best described as an island about two hours beyond the end of the world.""His son might take you out. Go find him down on the dock. It's supposed to be real shit weather though."

Cherry blossoms!!! Nobody told me there would be cherry blossoms!!! And more!!!

I spent the first day of my 33^rd year in my hometown of Dublin, Ireland. What?! Life obviously hasn't unfolded as anticipated, but it's just as awe-inspiring as ever.When I woke up on that cool, grey, Irish morning, I wanted little more than to be outdoors. I went for a short run, despite better medical advice. As I stretched my legs on the street, a 70+ year old lady walked by and pinched my ass. I smiled. It was going to be a good day.After the run, I gathered my things for an afternoon hike near the small fishing village of Howth. Reports of rain be damned, I was going to enjoy my day outside. A bit of my German past crept up in me and I thought how nice it would be to bring a beer along. And so I did. Because it was my birthday.

Waterford City. It was a bit of an unconventional choice for my Irish first trip beyond Dublin City Limits, but I was traveling with the Dublin History Meet Up group. I was just along for the ride.It was my first event with the group and I was a bit hesitant starting off with an overnight stay. I haven’t yet had a bad experience with a Meet Up group though; a change in that trend would have to wait!We arrived in an absolute mist of an Irish day. Grey, cool (not cold), and a heavy drizzle that wouldn’t let up until we were ready to leave. After checking-in to the hotel, we gathered for the first of four tours. With this being the history group, I could shamelessly geek out on all kinds of Viking and Medieval things (with a group who could appreciate a good geeking-out!).

Within the span of a week, I became the proud owner of a guitar and a bike. Total spent: €130. I rule.Both of them came via DoneDeal, Ireland’s answer to Craigslist. I was glad to see the shadiness factor remained universal.The guitar: Y’know, I hadn’t touched a guitar in about a year. The two(!) I had back in Austin did an excellent job of collecting dust while looking fashionably chic in the corner of my room. When I got to Dublin, a switch flipped and I just had to play and sing. Seriously. Just so inspired! I was looking up chords before I even found the guitar!As for the guitar I bought, look, it is what it is. I’ll never play the O2 with it, but I wouldn’t say that limitation stems from the quality of the instrument. For 50 quid, it’s perfect.

Paddy's Day.In Dublin.Whaaaat?!It started off as most weekend days in Dublin do: hazy and hungover. Brian made me stay out at the club way later than I wanted. I showered, donned my finest green, then got out the door by lunchtime.I by-passed the parade because, well, I'm not a parade person. Instead, I was headed to Croke Park, home of the GAA Club Championships for hurling and Gaelic football. Two more sports that I knew absolutely nothing about and I loved every minute of them!The stadium greeted me with a line to end all lines wrapping through the suburban neighborhood. C'mon, I don't have time for this! I was already late because stupid Brian made me stay out late. Stupid.

Did you know Bono is from Ireland? It's true!In fact, he lives just down the coast near Dalkey. Bono, Bono, Bono... That's all we heard on our day-trip to the area around his (new) home town. The Irish love Bono. That's not a stereotype. That's truth!Brian, his two friends from school, and I jumped on the DART for the mini-excursion. It was my first time outside of Dublin. I was excited to hike through the distant hills that gaze through my window.[caption id="attachment_1745" align="aligncenter" width="500"] The Irish coast. You can (almost) see Bono's house from here![/caption]