The Dubliners.

Ah Dublin.

So in truth I sat here for five minutes trying to recall what exactly I did there. Like the fog that clouded the streets of Galway so was my brain...clouded. Whatever that sentence didn't make any sense. Im keepin' it.

Two Wednesdays ago, after seeing a lovely little (or rather, epic) play called War Horse (Its alright, Joey! Its alllllrightttttt.) Molly, Enka, Taylor, and I started packing for our trip to Dublin. We left Goldsmiths at 2:30 am and walked down to the bus stop. At this time New Cross was pretty dead, except for a young lad who was soon after nicknamed "Bloody Crutches." This gentlemen of sorts was also waiting for the bus. He found it fit to explain to us how he got this "fresh" blood all over his pants. Turns out he got the "lead pipe treatment" from his sister's boyfriend. But enough about that. I do not want to worry any relatives who might be reading this blog. Bloody Crutches was harmless, and we were very safe. Like most of our trips thus far, we began our journey by RUNNING to the bus which would take us to the inner sanctum of hell known most commonly as the Luton Airport. After taking a brisk 20 minute walk to the gate (LITERALLY. There were signs notifying the unknowing traveler that gate 26 was another 5 minutes away...) we became aware that NO ONE WAS THERE. Not even a flight attendant! NO ONE. After another hour people started arriving. Which was a relief.

We arrived in Dublin early in the morning. By that point we were delirious, having had no sleep for a day or so. We took a bus to our hostel, which was simply LOVELY. An angel sent from God by the name of Shawn welcomed us, took our bags, and directed us to the neared breakfast buffet. At the time the food there tasted good. Reflecting back on the whole food situation I now realize it was rather disgusting. But most of my five senses had long since revolted and closed shop. No matter. Right outside this breakfastbuffetblechhhh was a statue of James Joyce! What a strapping looking fellow he was. I took several pictures with him. We made our way back to the hostel where we slept in the common area on some gnarly looking couches. My mind was screaming SCABIESS SCABIESSS DISEASEEEE but my body won the fight. The cour of us conked out until 1 when we could check into our rooms.

At first we had a little bit of a freak out when we entered our hostel room. The heat had not yet been turned on and there were no blankets on the beds. Our poor minds could not process this information, and instead of asking someone to turn the heat on/provide us with blankets, we proceeded to freak out for several minutes. Shawn must have anticipated our woes, and had blankets brought up/heat blasted immediately.

Anxious to look around Dublin, (which is actually quite small!) we decided to go to the Irish Writer's Museum. Fresh off my trip to Westminster Abbey, this museum was a little anti-climactic. However, each station talked about an Irish Writer in great depth. It had never occurred to me how many of my fave writers were Irish! Wilde, Shaw, Joyce, Swift.... There were early publications of many written works, and rooms full of portraits. Totally Bangerag. After the museum we went into a traditional Irish pub. Or at least we thought we did...? It seems that wherever we go we are attracted to the tourist traps. I tried an Irish Coffee which was pretty disgusting and very strong. Thank God for Enka, who traded her Heineken for my alchocoffee. We went back to our hostel, showered, and went exploring. Of course on our way to Tritity we got distracted by several shops. Yet once we made it over the bridge (a very small one) we were near Trinity College! For dinner we went to the Oliver St. John Gogarty. The owner (and the pub's namesake) was actually a man on which James Joyce based the character of Buck Mulligan in "Ulysses!" Coooollllll. The pub was smallish and played really awesome oldies. The food was so delicious it managed to lift us from our funk. It was one of the best meals I have had since landing in Europe. My favorite meal of all time is shepherd's pie, and they had it! It was served with fat and crispy chips, and a glorious salad. With actual vegetables. And lettuce. There was so much food it was overwhelming. We all began to share our dinners like a reall familyyyy...awwwwww.

The next day we woke up bright and early at the crack of 10 and went on a free tour of Dublin. The tourguide was a ginger named Seamus. Seamus had recently graduated Trinity with a major in Literature and History! Becuase of this he made a swelll tourguide. We went to some really cool places, including the building where Swift was born in. After the tour Seamus showed us an amazing crepe place called Lemon where we had breakfast. Then I went and bought my wool Irish knit sweater which I have been wanting for SEVERAL years. We did a bit more shopping/looking around, and then got tea at a local Costa. We made our way back to the hostel where Michal and Alex were waiting :) We had just enough time to get ready before the pub crawl, which lasted until about 12.

On our third day in Ireland we went to Galway. The busride took FAR longer than we had hoped, and the entire city was enveloped in fog. All we did was go to a pub by the water and walk around. The people there were nice. I made friends with a crepe man, who made Alex and I a delicious banana and nutella crepe. We then walked around and went into a local coffee shop. Before we knew it we had to board the bus and go back to Dublin. That night we stayed in and got some rest.

On our final day we went to a tourist-y shop and bought some souvenirs. Then we walked to the Guinness Factory (a mistake) and went on the tour! The museum itself was actually REALLY cool. It was seven floors. On the first floor the four ingredients of Guiness were discussed. Water, Barley, Hops, and Yeast. Then on the second floor we learned just how Guiness was made. After that there were large sections of the museum devoted to old advertizements, beer glasses, and history. At the top floor which was made TOTALLY OF GLASS we got our free pint. This part was pretty incredible, as we could see all of Dublin. The bartender told us how to pour a perfect pint. If a beer could be like poetry, this beer was. It looked so amazing I didnt want to drink it! I soon got over that, however. It was some of the best beer I have ever had.

After the factory we went to Oliver St. John Gogarty's again. The food there was just so good. We needed to share our experience with Michal and Alex. We all ordered waters in order to save money (beer there was over 6 euro!) and the irish man playing with his band began to make fun of us. He then sang us a song to make up for it, though, which was nice. After the pub we made our way back to the airport.

We got home from Dublin at 3am. Phew. What a trip. Overall I had a very wonderful time. It sometimes seemed like the Irish really did not like America, although they always asked us about Obama. Little did I know of the dislike awaiting us in Paris! Dublin as small but packed with history, and had an intangible spirit of unity and sense of pride that I have not yet felt in any other city I have visited.