Day 1 of Whirlwind Dublin Tour
Well, so far everything’s gone according to plan. Slept well, met Diane for breakfast at 8:30 am, drove to the airport, and began first leg of LONG flight to Dublin.
I’ve yet to find anyone to talk to. The dermatologist in the seat next to me barely spoke. Oh well… and the lady I offered a seat to in the crowded food court actually turned me down! So, I ate alone. Then, sojourned to the Dunkin Donuts stand and got myself a bottled water and jam filled donut to assuage my hurt feelings.
Ahhh, that’s better. Pulled off my sneakers and put my feet up. Sometimes it’s just the simple pleasures, yanno?
Airports give plenty of time and space for people watching. There was a lady waiting in line for her food who looked. Hmm… like an ex-groupie that aged badly or a drag queen. Anyway, she was wearing a low-cut “dazzly” shirt, but didn’t have the body to go with it. Her hair was bleached blonde and her lips were collagenated. I’m assuming botox has been a hobby of hers as well. But at any rate, if she *was* a drag queen, I wonder where she’s going. Maybe to Rome to meet the Pope who will bestow upon her a cardinalship for her righteous ways.
But most likely, she’s just an aging groupie going to meet other aging groupies at a girl’s weekend out in Topeka. Or maybe Tulsa.
There are a lot of too busy businessmen in airports. Like that guy. Nice slacks, jacket, matching shirt, and the obligatory laptop bag. These men are actually wearing ties! And looking genuinely stressed out.
There are a lot of women/girls with cell phones and Borg-like ear buds who are oblivious to all around them and stand in the middle of corridors talking (seemingly) to themselves.
A lot of elderly are spending the last years of their health getting in one last trip.
I see flight attendants and pilots. There’s a little old lady peering into a drink bin, but the choices are too complicated so she walks off. No one notices but me.
It seems like we’re surrounded by humanity, and yet – there is none. Just these… shells of people wandering halls and planning how to make the next flight connection. “Should I hang at the bar? Grab a sandwich? Read a book?”
Perhaps I’ll just write in my travel journal.
6/6/09
Landed pretty much on time at 8:30 am. Unfortunately, right into the middle of a wild and windy rain storm. Of course, we didn’t offload onto a jetway ramp… they offloaded the entire 767 by one slippery, metal step ladder. I ran to be one of the first through immigration so I could make the Wicklow tour. Zipped through, caught a cab and got to the B&B by 9:30.
The room wasn’t ready, and they kinda lied about having a shower I could use, so I just took a quick sponge bath and raced to try and make the tour.
Forgot my umbrella. Had to buy a new one. The wind was so violent that it ripped it to shreds. I finally found the tour operator and was told the tour was off due to the weather.
*sigh*
So, I fell back to plan B. Must find the hop on-hop off bus.
Located them, but got hit by a blood sugar drop, so I stopped to have a burger at Burger King as my first meal in this foreign land. Then, on to the bus. The tour guide really was quite good.
I stopped at the Guinness brewery to get some souvenirs. Then on to the Jameson distillery to get some there. I was really tired, so I decided to go back to my B&B.
Guinness
Jameson
Now, the B&B had checked me in earlier, but the old guy at the desk was having some difficulty because he didn’t know I’d checked in. He wanted my receipt (who knows what rain-drenched portion of my purse or pockets *that* had gotten into)!
Luckily, the desk girl from earlier came in and had him open the luggage door so I could retrieve my suitcase.
He didn’t offer to help carry, but I should come to expect that.
Anyway, climbed up a flight of stairs and went up a floor in the elevator and finally… I was here! Put the key in the lock, and nothing. *sigh*
Went *back* downstairs, got the old guy (Dennis) who came up and also had trouble, but was finally able to open the door.
What a relief! I got inside and thought I might just go to the Irish storytelling dinner. So, I called Dennis and he said to bring down a credit card to be able to use my room phone. I did…
And couldn’t make my room door re-open from the outside! *sigh*
If I can make this shorter…
It took two more trips to fix the door issue, and an additional trip to get the phone call made. I was wrung dry.
So, I went upstairs and slept two hours. Got up and opened my window a bit. The bed is comfy – all white sheets and a down comforter. The room is well appointed and clean. I’m glad I booked here.
The rooms all had such whimsical names. See below.
Occasionally, I could hear a sea gull cry in the distance. It’s really a nice place. After my nap, I showered and felt somewhat restored to sanity.
I decided to catch the hop on-hop off bus to the storytelling dinner. My GOD the rain here… it’s like walking into a tub shower except that it’s 39 degrees with gale force winds.
On my way to the bus, I was feeling a bit peckish, so I stopped by a bakery.
Nothing can restore the soul on such a horrid day except for a homemade scone and hot tea. It was lovely!
Afterward, I caught the bus and had to retrace thirteen of the stops I’d been on earlier to get to the pub.
The Brazen Head is the oldest pub in Ireland (http://www.brazenhead.com/). I’d gotten there too early, so I went into the bar for a drink.
Two young American girls were there and we struck up a conversation. They were so cool! I enjoyed talking with them very much. One of the things you do as a visitor to the pub is put something on the currency of your country and plaster it to the pub walls or ceiling. They’d traveled to the Brazen Head to do that. They had a quest for the highest, oldest, smallest, etc. pubs in Ireland.
In a bit, I went upstairs to the dinner. This was an evening of food, folklore, and faeries given by Johnny Daly (http://www.irishfolktours.com/).
It was a perfect evening! The history and stories were great and the folks at my table were wonderful.
I just got in from all my hustle and bustle. Think I’ll gel for a bit and watch some TV. BTW, Irish TV is *much* better than English TV!
2 am
Revelers woke me from a dead sleep just now. Well, at least they were happy revelers.
I’ve been thinking about this strange land I’m visiting. It’s such a land of contrasts.
The weather is the worst it could possibly be. Yet, the Irish are of a sunny disposition. They’re living in an area the size of West Virginia, and for centuries were bound by it. Their food was bland and diets were limited because nothing much grows in Ireland – just potatoes, cabbage, and lamb. Oh, and don’t forget alcohol!
I’m amazed at the depth of their belief in magic, paganism, and Catholicism. It all melts together so easily in the Irish.
They don’t find it the least bit odd. They’d probably fit in well in Austin!
And yet, this land is so foreboding. You just have to feel the wind and rain today to see how they could believe in banshees! In fact, now as I think about it, how much less colorful is our culture in America because we’ve given up the magic and the storytelling… we’ve replaced it with video games and TV. What a shallow life we have!
The Irish are full up with life. They drink to it, laugh to it, exaggerate it… what a wonderful way to live.
They are so different from the English. The English are not bad sorts, really… but they are much more withdrawn. They will laugh, but only politely (unless you’re at a pub). All bets are off at pubs!
I don’t have the kinship to Ireland as I do to England, but in some ways I appreciate it more.
The English are more likely to be intolerant of someone who doesn’t understand their culture. Instead of merrily inviting you for a drink – they’d glare at you for, say, picking up an antique glass object from their shop to look at it. Then, heave a sigh of relief to see you go. (Kim, Greg, and Sarn… if you’re reading this, I’m talking about the OTHER English - definitely NOT you!). *grin*
Well, these are all just superficial observations. I hope to learn more on my tours tomorrow. Er… today.
6/7/09
Blearily, I realized I was awake – though I didn’t yet know where I was or what time it was!
Looked at my watch. 7:00 am.
SEVEN!
Yikes, Trip Advisor told me that if I wanted breakfast at all, I should hurriedly get my butt downstairs.
So, I tossed on some clothes, combed my hair, and trudged downward. There were only three patrons when I got there. So I, still bleary, asked what the protocol was. Basically, it’s cafeteria style. So, I got a cup of fruit and full Irish breakfast (minus the beans and pseudo sausage) as well as a steaming cup of hot tea. Perfect for a bleary-eyed traveler undergoing a bit of jet lag. As I sat down, I noticed I was in an atrium with glass ports to the courtyard as well as skyward. The room even had an aquarium! Amazing.
God, it seemed, was trying to make amends for the ferocity of weather yesterday by offering up a few rays of sunshine. I’m praying that it holds up for the rest of the day.
About the jet lag. I really haven’t noticed that it’s so bad. I took my “no jet lag” pills, drank lots of water, slept (a little) on the plane, and exercised a lot (drinking that much water sends you to the loo often enough!).
Upon landing, though, all bets were off and I’d indulged in tea and coke as well as chocolate. The upshot is that while I’m up at normal time, I’m still dragging a bit. But, oh, I’ve had so much worse than this. I’m grateful for acclimating so quickly!
Now, to see how I do on the way back tomorrow.
4:45 pm
Wow, what a day.
I left after breakfast for the hop on-hop off bus. First stop was Trinity College.
I paid 10 euro for a guided tour, but heard little of it as I met a new friend named Jackie who is a retiring college professor from California. What a hoot! We swapped personal info and went our separate ways. Next stop was Kilmainham Gaol. Spent more euro for a so-so tour of the jail. At least I learned a little about the Irish Rebellion of 1916!
After that, I did a bit of shopping in the Nassau area of town. Got on the bus again and went to the Writer’s Museum. They had a nice gift shop and I picked up a few things there. Decided to walk back to O’Connell Street for lunch. O'Connell Street is named after Daniel O'Connell (below). Daniel was an Irish nationalistic leader who lived in the 19th century.
Lunch turned out to be ho hum fish-n-chips. At that point, I just began touring O’Connell St. Picking up souvenirs and sightseeing. Got back to my room a bit after 4 pm and got my suitcase somewhat organized. Checked the times and such, and it looks like I have about an hour to catch the shuttle to the O2. Perfect!
I believe I’ll take the bus to the airport tomorrow as the taxis are so expensive here! That’s about it for now. Going to relax and maybe eat one of the chocolate souvenirs I bought!
LATE that night…
Well, War of the Worlds was what I expected, and pretty much just like the DVD. The Irish seem to have bought into the idea of queues as much as the English.
I’ve been in two LONG queues paid too much for concert souvenirs, paid too much for drinks and food. Walked way too far (decided not to take the shuttle after all), and had the time of my life. I sat with two lovely Irish girls named Helen and Vera (I think).
Some wonderful Irish folk showed me the way to the O2, and I just finished “mostly” packing my suitcase. I think I won’t have to check baggage tomorrow (yay!).
I’m kinda tired and kinda wired. Hope I can get some sleep!
6/9/09
3 pm CST
Here I am In Chicago with a multi-hour layover, so I thought I’d write a bit.
The phone rang at 5:30 am to wake me. That would be 11:30 pm CST the day before. That means I’ve been awake and moving for 16 hours now.
There was nothing extraordinary about the flight home except that American wants me to have special “gluten free” meals that I didn’t order. The landing in Chicago was a bit dodgy, but we made it (complete with bins crashing open). I did enjoy the fact that I had no one sitting next to me, so I could prop my feet up and catch some cat naps.
In Chicago, it was all about the queues. We queued for immigration, queued to pick up our luggage (which I *did* have to check, by the way), queued for customs, and queued to drop our luggage off for the connecting flight. Then, we queued to go through the domestic security check (but only after queuing for a tram to get us to Terminal 3). I’m about all queued out except that I know there are more to come – loading the plane, picking up luggage in Austin, etc.
But, I get to see the babies tonight! And I’ll sleep like a rock!
So, what did I learn this trip?
Don’t take the taxi from the airport. The bus is just as good and costs about $50 less!
Buy hop on-hop off tickets for the Dublin tour.
Talk to people. I’ve met the most surprising people the past couple of days.
Plan a FULL trip to Ireland next time.
The Irish are fun, happy folks. Their country’s weather sucks, though. Their passions are politics, drinking, and sports (about in that order).
Don’t bother much about Irish cuisine. It consists mostly of cabbage and potatoes. I’ve got to admire an island that is so fierce in its traditions that all of its signs are in both English and Gaelic. They still teach Gaelic in the schools (though most lose the knowledge by adulthood). They are proud Catholics (mostly) without much bad to say about anyone. Unless you’re a politician.
Who wouldn’t like them? They’re much more like the Scots than the English.
That’s my take on it anyway. I board my flight in 1.5 hours. Yippee. And zzzz. I’m ready to be home!
6/10/09
The flight home went without a hitch. Arrived about 8:30 and got the kidlets (my puppies, Zelda and Lucy) by 9:30. Then home for a long SNOOZE! Today was all about laundry, groceries, and getting the house in order. Oh, and typing up this blog!
