A Taste of Ireland
Leaving one green island and landing on another.
My old co-worker chum from Winnipeg, David, contacted me a while back and mentioned his upcoming marriage to long-time girlfriend Erin. Her mother was raised in Ireland, and naturally, they were planning a little shindig in Dublin to celebrate. David and Erin were kind enough to invite me to the informal do, and I was delighted to finally be heading to Ireland.
I booked the Friday off work, so I could get a full weekend in. I booked my hostel and got on the plane. The flight from Bristol is barely an hour, and the relatively clear day meant a great view of the ground below. Lifting off the runway, the first town to be seen is Weston-super-Mare, on the coast of the Bristol Channel. I had seen it weeks before, on my trip to Mallorca, but this time, its famous Grand Pier was no longer there, having burnt down in the interim. I'm glad I got to see it up close and from the air before its demise. Approaching Dublin over the Irish Sea was a wonderful experience. The weather over the Emerald Isle was a bit grey (as I would expect from the constantly rainy weather forecasts I see on the BBC). I grabbed the AirCoach into Central Dublin to find my hostel. The return fare only set me back about €12. I eventually found Brown's Hostel on Gardiner Street, dumped my things in the luggage room (as it was too early to check in), and set off to see Dublin.
I wandered aimlessly through the City Centre, guided only by the map I found on the seat of the coach. I passed the Customs House and crossed the Liffey, heading west toward Temple Bar. I wasn't expecting any contact from David until later, and even then I wasn't sure. I knew if he didn't call me, we'd meet up the following day at Hanlon's, the pub where they had rented the top floor for their luncheon gathering. I was content to spend some time getting to know Dublin. The streets were lively. The sun was coming out, and Grafton Street was abuzz with buskers. After 3:00pm I headed back to the hostel to officially check in. I relaxed a bit, catching some of the opening ceremonies of the Olympics on TV, before heading out toward the Guinness Storehouse, a destination I'd been hoping to visit for a long time.
I walked along the Liffey eventually coming to the large walled complex of the Guinness brewery. I wasn't sure where to enter though, and it seemed the security guards at the delivery entrance weren't too sure either. I headed back the way I came, and walked toward the source of the trickle of people with Guinness gift shop bags. I found another false entrance, and then eventually saw a road sign pointing me in the right direction. Around a corner and down a brick canyon, I eventually found the entrance. Down a set of steps, I found myself at the ticket desk, and a mere €15 got me entry.
The museum is put together very well. The exhibits don't overwhelm with tonnes of text, but manage to get across all of the information one desires to know. They really do well to enhance one's appreciation of Guinness. In the tasting lab, a small sample is given and a man on a TV screen talks you through the tasting process. (I now go through that process each time I drink Guinness.) The museum, housed inside an old fermentation building, guides the visitor up several floors, teaching about the ingredients, history, brewing process, the lost art of the cooper, and Guinness's advertising campaigns throughout the years. Eventually I reached the top of the building: the round, curtain-walled Gravity Bar, with a 360° view of Dublin and the Wicklow Mountains beyond (where the water for Guinness is sourced). As part of the admission price, I was entitled to one pint of Guinness. I had always been told that Guinness tastes best here, and it was no lie. I managed to grab a pint before the last orders were called. Much to my delight, the clouds had cleared and the evening view of Dublin was stunning.
I strolled back to the hostel and checked my email for messages from David. There was nothing, so I headed out to get some food before coming back to retire early for the night. The next morning, I headed out toward Hanlon's, opting to walk rather than take the bus. It was great to get out beyond the city centre, and see Dubliner's Dublin. I eventually found Hanlon's, but had arrived much too early. I stopped in at a cafe and enjoyed a cup of tea before heading to the pub to join the party. When I arrived, I found I was the first one there. I had read that it was very Irish to be fashionably late, so I hung out and waited. Eventually they all showed up, and I offered my congratulations to the newlyweds, and met their family and friends, including several who had come from Winnipeg.
We enjoyed some drinks and food. David and I caught up on the past year, and he told me of his struggle the previous night to get in touch with me, and how his inability to contact me led to him discovering that his licence expired, a story far too long to relay here. While we were eating, and Erin's relatives were standing up at random, serenading with song, in typical Irish fashion, the rain was falling outside. One of Erin's aunts said, "Come look at this... This is Ireland for you." Out the window we saw the streets flooding as the rain poured down. The pub's cellar was flooding, and many of the draught beers were unable to be changed. Luckily we were on the top floor.
The flooding had a widespread effect on Dublin that evening. David was driving his in-laws home in shifts, but was finding it was taking an hour to drive a few blocks. The traffic was horrendous. I was more than happy to stay at Hanlon's with David and Erin's friends, Liam and Lauren, and Erin's Dubliner grandparents. Her grandfather gave us warning though, not to stay too long at this pub, as it got a bit rough later in the evening. Luckily we left before then.
Dave drove us to their bed and breakfast, where we were to leave the car and head to a pub called Cumiskeys. I noted how surreal it was to be riding through the streets of suburban Dublin with a bunch of Winnipeggers in a right-hand drive car. All seemed to agree. We dumped the car and walked down to the pub, opting first to head up a bit to a pub called The Hole in the Wall. It was once Europe's longest pub, and is built into the wall along Phoenix Park, one of the largest urban parks in the world. This was one of, if not the cosiest pubs I've ever been in. There were multiple fires giving off a wonderful campfire smell. It was very dark and very warm. We got to be good pals with the barman, Chow, who was handing out free packets of Walker's ready salted crisps.
From there we headed back to Cumiskeys. The effects of the flash flood were still apparent, with the large puddles and sump pumps blaring away. At Cumiskeys, we met up with Erin's parents and her sister and her boyfriend. We stayed there until closing, making the mistake of attempting to buy a drink after the last drinks were already served. A lovely comedic older couple told us the errs of our ways, and we stood talking to them for a good while.
Liam, Lauren and I headed back to the centre in a taxi. They got out at their hostel, and I continued on to mine. I had a great chat with the driver, another Chinese immigrant. In the short ride we talked about the situation in China, learning English in Ireland and a host of other topics. I was happy to get back to the hostel without getting mugged, as every Dubliner would have me believe would happen to me on Gardiner Street.
The next day, Erin, David, Liam and Lauren picked me up and we headed south toward the resort town of Bray. We had a bit of trouble finding our way to the right road though. A football game that afternoon meant the streets were full of orange and red clad fans and we were slightly distracted on our way out of town. A boy standing in the middle of the road gave us directions and after ending up on the wrong side of the harbour, we eventually found our way. We stopped whenever something interesting caught our eye.
One of the stops on our tour was Killiney, home to, among others, Bono, The Edge, and Enya. Liam had been to the spot before and guided us to Bono's property. We parked the car and walked around a bit, noticing that the Canadian Ambassador lives just across the street. We walked down a steep path on the fringe of Mr. Vox's property, where graffiti adorned the doors and walls. At the bottom was a beautiful rocky sand beach, with the salty waves of the Irish Sea crashing onto it. We spent some time there, taking it all in and exploring. David managed to get his shoes wet whilst snapping a photo. He was lucky it was the shoes and not the camera.
Back in the car, we continued on our way, eventually coming to Bray, just outside Greater Dublin, and the end of the DART line. I had seen photos of David and Erin on the beach here years earlier, but it's an entirely different place in December than it is in August. There was a carnival on the waterfront, and loads of people walking along the stone beach. We were getting hungry, and opted for some greasy seaside food from the chipper. We sat eating it and then headed up the mountain, crossing through a hole in a fence to a slightly off-limits area. There was the ruin of a wall there, that David wanted to revisit to recreate a photo from the last time he had been here. We took turns sitting on the wall posing. Erin and Lauren seemed a bit nervous about the drop into the sea on the other side. It wasn't as scary as it looked.
We spent time there taking photos and then headed back to the car as it started to rain. We drove back into Dublin and dropped Liam and Lauren at the bus depot. They were heading off to Belfast (where Liam's parents had come from) to begin their European travels. A couple blocks away, I bid adieu to David and Erin, who were heading off on their honeymoon travels around Ireland and on the Continent.
I opted for a quiet evening, taking a stroll through the bustling Temple Bar, in search of a meal that I eventually found. I was looking forward to an early night, as I had to be up at 3:00am to catch my coach to the airport for a 6:30am flight back to Bristol (followed by a full day at work). When I left earlier in the evening, there were only two others in the twelve-bed hostel room, an Australian woman and a French man, both of whom had early mornings like myself. When I got back to the room, however, it was full of loud girls from Belfast, doing their hair and spilling their drinks all over the room. They were talkative and friendly to the three of us (the ones who were hoping for some sleep), but they turned this peaceful room into a aerosol-filled disaster zone. After much noise and rigmarole, they headed out on the town, but they returned several times during the night, making much noise and commotion each time. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep.
I did make it to the airport in the morning, despite my light slumber. I queued for the plane to Berlin, which eventually turned into the queue for Bristol. The flight back seemed even shorter than the flight to Dublin. I was glad to be back in England, but dreading the thought of working on the little sleep I had. My boss picked me up at the airport on his way in to work. An energy drink or two kept me going until 5:00pm. It was all worth it for the great weekend though.
Click here for photos of the adventure.
Cheers.
My old co-worker chum from Winnipeg, David, contacted me a while back and mentioned his upcoming marriage to long-time girlfriend Erin. Her mother was raised in Ireland, and naturally, they were planning a little shindig in Dublin to celebrate. David and Erin were kind enough to invite me to the informal do, and I was delighted to finally be heading to Ireland.I booked the Friday off work, so I could get a full weekend in. I booked my hostel and got on the plane. The flight from Bristol is barely an hour, and the relatively clear day meant a great view of the ground below. Lifting off the runway, the first town to be seen is Weston-super-Mare, on the coast of the Bristol Channel. I had seen it weeks before, on my trip to Mallorca, but this time, its famous Grand Pier was no longer there, having burnt down in the interim. I'm glad I got to see it up close and from the air before its demise. Approaching Dublin over the Irish Sea was a wonderful experience. The weather over the Emerald Isle was a bit grey (as I would expect from the constantly rainy weather forecasts I see on the BBC). I grabbed the AirCoach into Central Dublin to find my hostel. The return fare only set me back about €12. I eventually found Brown's Hostel on Gardiner Street, dumped my things in the luggage room (as it was too early to check in), and set off to see Dublin.
I wandered aimlessly through the City Centre, guided only by the map I found on the seat of the coach. I passed the Customs House and crossed the Liffey, heading west toward Temple Bar. I wasn't expecting any contact from David until later, and even then I wasn't sure. I knew if he didn't call me, we'd meet up the following day at Hanlon's, the pub where they had rented the top floor for their luncheon gathering. I was content to spend some time getting to know Dublin. The streets were lively. The sun was coming out, and Grafton Street was abuzz with buskers. After 3:00pm I headed back to the hostel to officially check in. I relaxed a bit, catching some of the opening ceremonies of the Olympics on TV, before heading out toward the Guinness Storehouse, a destination I'd been hoping to visit for a long time.
I walked along the Liffey eventually coming to the large walled complex of the Guinness brewery. I wasn't sure where to enter though, and it seemed the security guards at the delivery entrance weren't too sure either. I headed back the way I came, and walked toward the source of the trickle of people with Guinness gift shop bags. I found another false entrance, and then eventually saw a road sign pointing me in the right direction. Around a corner and down a brick canyon, I eventually found the entrance. Down a set of steps, I found myself at the ticket desk, and a mere €15 got me entry.
The museum is put together very well. The exhibits don't overwhelm with tonnes of text, but manage to get across all of the information one desires to know. They really do well to enhance one's appreciation of Guinness. In the tasting lab, a small sample is given and a man on a TV screen talks you through the tasting process. (I now go through that process each time I drink Guinness.) The museum, housed inside an old fermentation building, guides the visitor up several floors, teaching about the ingredients, history, brewing process, the lost art of the cooper, and Guinness's advertising campaigns throughout the years. Eventually I reached the top of the building: the round, curtain-walled Gravity Bar, with a 360° view of Dublin and the Wicklow Mountains beyond (where the water for Guinness is sourced). As part of the admission price, I was entitled to one pint of Guinness. I had always been told that Guinness tastes best here, and it was no lie. I managed to grab a pint before the last orders were called. Much to my delight, the clouds had cleared and the evening view of Dublin was stunning.
I strolled back to the hostel and checked my email for messages from David. There was nothing, so I headed out to get some food before coming back to retire early for the night. The next morning, I headed out toward Hanlon's, opting to walk rather than take the bus. It was great to get out beyond the city centre, and see Dubliner's Dublin. I eventually found Hanlon's, but had arrived much too early. I stopped in at a cafe and enjoyed a cup of tea before heading to the pub to join the party. When I arrived, I found I was the first one there. I had read that it was very Irish to be fashionably late, so I hung out and waited. Eventually they all showed up, and I offered my congratulations to the newlyweds, and met their family and friends, including several who had come from Winnipeg.
We enjoyed some drinks and food. David and I caught up on the past year, and he told me of his struggle the previous night to get in touch with me, and how his inability to contact me led to him discovering that his licence expired, a story far too long to relay here. While we were eating, and Erin's relatives were standing up at random, serenading with song, in typical Irish fashion, the rain was falling outside. One of Erin's aunts said, "Come look at this... This is Ireland for you." Out the window we saw the streets flooding as the rain poured down. The pub's cellar was flooding, and many of the draught beers were unable to be changed. Luckily we were on the top floor.
The flooding had a widespread effect on Dublin that evening. David was driving his in-laws home in shifts, but was finding it was taking an hour to drive a few blocks. The traffic was horrendous. I was more than happy to stay at Hanlon's with David and Erin's friends, Liam and Lauren, and Erin's Dubliner grandparents. Her grandfather gave us warning though, not to stay too long at this pub, as it got a bit rough later in the evening. Luckily we left before then.
Dave drove us to their bed and breakfast, where we were to leave the car and head to a pub called Cumiskeys. I noted how surreal it was to be riding through the streets of suburban Dublin with a bunch of Winnipeggers in a right-hand drive car. All seemed to agree. We dumped the car and walked down to the pub, opting first to head up a bit to a pub called The Hole in the Wall. It was once Europe's longest pub, and is built into the wall along Phoenix Park, one of the largest urban parks in the world. This was one of, if not the cosiest pubs I've ever been in. There were multiple fires giving off a wonderful campfire smell. It was very dark and very warm. We got to be good pals with the barman, Chow, who was handing out free packets of Walker's ready salted crisps.
From there we headed back to Cumiskeys. The effects of the flash flood were still apparent, with the large puddles and sump pumps blaring away. At Cumiskeys, we met up with Erin's parents and her sister and her boyfriend. We stayed there until closing, making the mistake of attempting to buy a drink after the last drinks were already served. A lovely comedic older couple told us the errs of our ways, and we stood talking to them for a good while.
Liam, Lauren and I headed back to the centre in a taxi. They got out at their hostel, and I continued on to mine. I had a great chat with the driver, another Chinese immigrant. In the short ride we talked about the situation in China, learning English in Ireland and a host of other topics. I was happy to get back to the hostel without getting mugged, as every Dubliner would have me believe would happen to me on Gardiner Street.
The next day, Erin, David, Liam and Lauren picked me up and we headed south toward the resort town of Bray. We had a bit of trouble finding our way to the right road though. A football game that afternoon meant the streets were full of orange and red clad fans and we were slightly distracted on our way out of town. A boy standing in the middle of the road gave us directions and after ending up on the wrong side of the harbour, we eventually found our way. We stopped whenever something interesting caught our eye.
One of the stops on our tour was Killiney, home to, among others, Bono, The Edge, and Enya. Liam had been to the spot before and guided us to Bono's property. We parked the car and walked around a bit, noticing that the Canadian Ambassador lives just across the street. We walked down a steep path on the fringe of Mr. Vox's property, where graffiti adorned the doors and walls. At the bottom was a beautiful rocky sand beach, with the salty waves of the Irish Sea crashing onto it. We spent some time there, taking it all in and exploring. David managed to get his shoes wet whilst snapping a photo. He was lucky it was the shoes and not the camera.
Back in the car, we continued on our way, eventually coming to Bray, just outside Greater Dublin, and the end of the DART line. I had seen photos of David and Erin on the beach here years earlier, but it's an entirely different place in December than it is in August. There was a carnival on the waterfront, and loads of people walking along the stone beach. We were getting hungry, and opted for some greasy seaside food from the chipper. We sat eating it and then headed up the mountain, crossing through a hole in a fence to a slightly off-limits area. There was the ruin of a wall there, that David wanted to revisit to recreate a photo from the last time he had been here. We took turns sitting on the wall posing. Erin and Lauren seemed a bit nervous about the drop into the sea on the other side. It wasn't as scary as it looked.
We spent time there taking photos and then headed back to the car as it started to rain. We drove back into Dublin and dropped Liam and Lauren at the bus depot. They were heading off to Belfast (where Liam's parents had come from) to begin their European travels. A couple blocks away, I bid adieu to David and Erin, who were heading off on their honeymoon travels around Ireland and on the Continent.
I opted for a quiet evening, taking a stroll through the bustling Temple Bar, in search of a meal that I eventually found. I was looking forward to an early night, as I had to be up at 3:00am to catch my coach to the airport for a 6:30am flight back to Bristol (followed by a full day at work). When I left earlier in the evening, there were only two others in the twelve-bed hostel room, an Australian woman and a French man, both of whom had early mornings like myself. When I got back to the room, however, it was full of loud girls from Belfast, doing their hair and spilling their drinks all over the room. They were talkative and friendly to the three of us (the ones who were hoping for some sleep), but they turned this peaceful room into a aerosol-filled disaster zone. After much noise and rigmarole, they headed out on the town, but they returned several times during the night, making much noise and commotion each time. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep.
I did make it to the airport in the morning, despite my light slumber. I queued for the plane to Berlin, which eventually turned into the queue for Bristol. The flight back seemed even shorter than the flight to Dublin. I was glad to be back in England, but dreading the thought of working on the little sleep I had. My boss picked me up at the airport on his way in to work. An energy drink or two kept me going until 5:00pm. It was all worth it for the great weekend though.
Click here for photos of the adventure.
Cheers.
posted by Mark Bauche at 8:58 PM
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1 Comments:
I've finally cracked the international market! Thanks for the mention, though you left out the fact that I was stunningly handsome and had a rapist wit. Good to meet you man!
Best,
Liam
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