''Ehm no I don't I'm afraid, I see you're fluent in American though.''
Yes, this is what a young American man in a pub in Dingle asked me as I spoke to my new Austrian (or 'International' as he liked to be referred to) friend over the roar of the pub singer and heavy din of American twangs. Don't get me wrong I can understand how he could have been THAT drunk after the supposed seven *gasp* bottles of beer drunk in the space of two hours. They were some craic all the same, my American friends. Even though they were plain silly, you couldn't help but feel protective of them and enjoy their boyband cleanliness. They all had names like Billy and Nick and even though they were all the same age as me or older they had a real innocence and happiness about them that you couldn't help but be charmed by. I'm glad that I seem to be meeting a lot of Americans this summer, they're a likeable bunch.
My Austrian friend had the same disposition in a funny way, even though he was far from an American high school graduate. He upped and left home one day, had slept rough on London streets and was on a quest to become 'free'. Very independent you might think, but us three Irish girls still took him under our wing and brought him around with us for the two days we were sharing a room with him. He was odd I must admit, a typical European metal head. Long hair and chains poking out everywhere, but terribly sweet all the same and maybe just a little lost and lonely.
What else did I do in Dingle apart from laugh at foreigners? Oh nothing, just ya know, cycled around Slea Head. *cough* 40 km *cough* no big deal...