A Song for Ireland: Dublin Days

Wow, this is post 201 in this blog. It seems fitting that it's about Ireland.

The word that comes to mind when I think about my trip is "amazing" but that word is so cheap nowadays. Everything is "amazing." I'm no exception--that word is WAY too big a part of my day to day speech. Perhaps "awesome" is better, but it raises the same issue. Awesome the way it's meant to be--something that makes one feel in awe, in admiration, in love, is awesome. That's what Ireland was.

We left on Wednesday and were flying standby. We missed the first connecting flight to Atlanta, but an Easter miracle (one of many travel-related miracles on our trip) we made it on the second flight. Once we got to Atlanta, it was easy sailing all the way to Dublin. And I mean easy sailing--we got seats in first class, which is now called, simply, Business class. It. Was. OUTstanding. They give you champagne when you sit down! They give you all the drinks you want--including alcoholic ones--for free! They put a napkin on your tray before they set down your meal, which you choose from a menu! The best part was the tiny little salt and pepper shakers they give you. I was kind of obsessed with them! I even took a picture it was so lovely:

Ahh, and a beautiful, if not that delicious, Bloody Mary, several of which helped me sleep most of the way to Dublin. I tell you what--it's THE way to travel.

So Tanya and I arrived in Dublin on Thursday morning-ish. We made it to our hostel and had "the longest check-in in the world" with my new BFF, J.P., the ADORABLE Irish guy working at the desk. He was hobbity and probably a little magical. We told him we were "nature and pub girls" to which he replied, "That's the best kind of girl!" He clearly loved us (too bad he's married) and he also helped us out with a map and the major sights of Dublin, plus he set up a Good Friday trip to Northern Ireland and the Giant's Causeway.

We arrived early enough to still see some things our first day, so we decided the Guinness brewery was a good place to start. We hoofed it there (it was a quest, let me tell you) and toured the brewery at St. James' Gate for a while. Here's us outside...

I learned quite a bit on the tour. Namely, Alec Guinness was so confident in his business endeavor that he signed a 9,000 year lease on the property. Also, hops is a lot lovelier than I thought it was (it's a flower) and it's that bitter flavor at the end of the beer. I also learned how to properly pour a pint of Guinness and that few places (none that I've found) pour it correctly. It should also be served at six degrees centigrade. These two factors combined make Irish Gunniess a magical, magical substance that brings joy to my heart. I don't like Guinness here but over there? It hits the spot, let me tell you.

The coolest bit of information I gained was about the origin of the Book of World Records, which IS the same Guinness. Apparently, one night in a pub some guys were arguing about which animal was the fastest animal on land (or something to that effect) and so they were inspired to not only find out, but to create a reference manual with all sorts of information of that type. Thus, The Guinness Book of World Records was born.

At the brewery, you can head up to the roof and get a good look at all of Dublin, which is kind of cheesy but appeals to me in every city I'm in. So we climbed up after our pint and looked at Dublin, sprawled out before us. It looked something like this:

That was the major story of Day One. Day Two of the trip we headed to Northern Ireland to see Belfast, Giant's Causeway, and Derry. Tanya had been to the Causeway before and really wanted to see it again, and neither of us had been to Derry. It was kind of perfect that we did it on our first full day in Ireland, because the long bus ride allowed us to sleep off our jet lag for most of the day.

We got up eeeeearly and went to another hostel to pick up our bus, and then we headed to the Carrik-a-Rede rope bridge which I have yet to figure out the importance or significance of. Tanya and I ended up not actually seeing it because we stopped in the shop to buy a bit of food since we hadn't had breakfast. We did manage to get in a lovely scenic walk, though, and this was one of the stops on the way.

The walk was a lovely one along the water and we heard a few tales about the place as we wandered. This next picture is of "Sheep Island" where a farmer once decided to keep 500 sheep. Six months later, that 500 sheep had dwindled down to a mere ten... Sheep are not smart, and apparently, neither was this particular farmer.

Our next stop was Giant's Causeway, named after Fill McCool, the giant who, well, caused the causeway--at least, that's what legend says. Whatever you believe, the Giant's Causeway is absolutely beautiful. The pictures, like so many others I took, don't even scratch the surface of how amazingly beautiful this place really is. It's truly just magical.

We had lunch at the causeway (steak and Guinness pie, yum!) and then headed to Derry, a major site of "the troubles" as they are called. We took the historic tour, given by a guy our age or a little older who had been born and raised in Derry. The tour was fascinating and eye-opening. The tour guide said something on our tour that really just blew me away; he said, "A life of war is just as hard to live as a life of peace." And this was coming from a man who'd known war for the first eighteen years of his life. That moment stopped me in my tracks. I'd never thought about it before in that way, but this man had been in war, AT war, for the formative years of his life. I can't even imagine it...

The scenery in Derry was pretty intense too. There were murals on some of the buildings, speaking to the tradition of telling the town what was going on through pictures rather than the British-controlled media. This is the wall erected when a part of Derry, the Catholic part, decided they were free. It still stands proudly.

Derry was a complete learning experience for both Tanya and I, and it was sort of appropriate that we were there together--Catholic and Protestant--on Good Friday.

We got back pretty late from the trip and stopped at McDonald's because I was on a mission to find the single greatest food-like item on the earth: the Cadberry Egg McFlurry. Let me tell you, folks: it does exist, and it's just as glorious and you would imagine it to be. Dreams do come true.

The next day we explored Dublin and saw more of the sights there. Our first stop was St. Patrick's Cathedral, which was beautiful from the outside:

And slightly heathen on the inside. There were leprechaun shot glasses for sale inside... which was so weird. But, Jonathan Swift was also buried in there, so that was cool to see, and there were some beautiful crosses inside as well, so it wasn't a completely pagan experience.

Next we headed to Grafton Street via St. Stephen's Green, a lovely little park. Although it was cold, the daffodils were in bloom (still don't know how!) and the park was lovely.

Then we headed to Grafton Street for a little walk up and down (it's a famous shopping street, I guess) and ate lunch at a place called The Duke, where James Joyce and my boy Oscar Wilde used to hang out back in the day. The food was kind of ew but the place was cool, and outside there was this older man wearing a TON of makeup (I'm not lying) who was drunk and encouraged us to come in. How could we resist?

That evening, we went to the Temple Bar district (yeah, it's what it sounds like) and went to a place called The Porter House, where I fell in love with this guy:

Let's just say he played a mean tin whistle and an even meaner set of elbow pipes, and when he sang this Irish folk song acapella, I basically melted. He was amazing. And in the back corner of the bar, we met this group of guys who turned out to be drunk and possibly insane, but really, really nice and fun. And I had two chocolate beers. So it was a good night.

The next day, we went to Easter Sunday mass (which was more like a funeral mass) and hit the road in our car that we'd picked up from the airport the day before. She came to be known as Judy Rose, and she was a true Irish beauty.

So... more on the trip soon! Kilkenny to The Cliffs of Moher, perhaps?

Until then, much love.