The Emerald Isle

So, over the last weekend, I went to Ireland. Dublin, to be exact. It was a trip that was planned waaaaaaaay back in September and, to be honest, if we hadn’t planned it then, we probably wouldn’t have gone. It’s smack dab in the middle of the most difficult point of the semester, my 6,000 word paper is due in three weeks, and at the time I had a paper due on Monday. (Let’s not talk about that paper, shall we?)

Anyway, Saiya, Nicole and I all went on separate journeys to all meet together in Dublin, Ireland, on Friday/Saturday. Naturally, I got lost on my way to the hostel, because the directions were juuuuust vague enough that I went in the wrong direction for a little too long. I did get some lovely night views of the city, though.

And an old boat!

Nicole arrived a few hours later and, after checking her in, we randomly were invited to go karaoke with four totally random guys. Now, the thing about these guys is, I can’t remember their names, and I don’t think they ever actually learned ours. They were four friends from four different countries whom had all met because they were travelling around Europe at one point or another, and every so often agreed to meet in the same place in the same hostel. One of the guys wanted his other friend to sing “Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benitar at karaoke, and suddenly Nicole and I are following these four guys around the Temple Bar area, looking for a karaoke bar.

I was known simply as “Boston”, since I was from Boston; Nicole became “Louisiana” to go with the elaborate alter-ego she’s constructed for dealing with guys whom she doesn’t want to know. The four guys we met were known as Canada, Australia, Scotland and Cambridge. Canada was a wiry little guy with dreadlocks and an affinity for the Dropkick Murphys; Scotland was a big Indian guy with a thick accent who was very, very proud to be Scottish and called everyone ‘Lassie’; Cambridge was short, had glasses and was very white, and apparently sleeps a lot; and Australia was tall, lanky, really drunk and was the one who had to sing Pat Benitar in a falsetto.

So we wandered around with them throughout the throngs of drunken Irish (is there any other kind, really? Badum-ching!) looking for an elusive karaoke bar. Scotland was hitting on everything, although Canada and Cambridge were very thoughtful and talked to us a lot about history and politics. And, because I’m cursed, the World Wars. I don’t know why they always come up with me. This is probably the third or fourth time I’ve met some random people abroad and the World Wars have come up in some way. We were discussing some of the reasons for the outbreak of WWI, if I recall. The conclusion I came to after my WWI/WWII class is true: this continent is obsessed with the World Wars. Well, I guess I would be, too, if it was fought on my continent.

Anyway, Australia broke a glass and Canada was very much drunk, we went back to our hostel around 10 pm and WENT TO SLEEP. The next morning was dedicated to eating, wandering, and locating a lost Saiya.

Once we had found the lost Saiya, we then embarked on our very own man-made tour, which Nicole dubbed the “Two Fs and S Tour” of Dublin.

The most frustrating thing about Dublin was that everything you had to pay to get into, so we spent a lot of time looking at things from a distance.

I see a Saiya!

St. Patrick's Cathedral, from the closest distance I could get.

In the case of St. Patrick’s, a really, really far distance. But everything was truly quite beautiful. We saw a church that had its old foundations right beside it, looking quite old indeed. And, of course, we hard-core gift-shopped, which took more time than we thought but at the same time, didn’t take much time at all.

We wandered around and also got photos of all the Christmas decorations, because Ireland really knows how to celebrate a holiday. And that’s with lots of electric lights everywhere.

Finally we ended the trip at Ireland’s oldest pub, founded in the 12^th century. It was gorgeous inside, small and cramped and with awkward staircases and a weird opening in the front, just like in Belgium and the other old pubs I’ve been to. They really knew how to make awesome pubs back in the day.

The next day we flew home, and I got some shots of the Irish countryside I kind of wish I could have seen up close. If I ever go back to Ireland, I’m definitely going someplace out in the countryside where I can see those rolling hills of green and maybe a potato or two.