Dublin to me felt like what London would be like if everyone turned one shade paler, woke up with the worst hangover of their lives, grabbed whatever clothes were closest and went out for the day dragging on a cigarette.
This became apparent even on the bus ride from the airport into town, at one point there was a large bang from the upper level. The American lady behind me started to get excited. 'Can you smell smoke? I think I can smell smoke. Someone tell the driver there is smoke!' The two women standing in the aisle beside us looked unperturbed, 'oh it's probably just a smoke bomb', 'yes', said the people standing beside them, 'it really smells of vomit upstairs'. The American lady looked confused. 'You know like how you light a match in the bathroom to get rid of the smell'. I should also mention the two women in the aisle were dressed up in classic British tart style, with despite not really the figures for it, the shortest dresses they could find. Complete with a fake tan of sorts, the first time I've seen foundation applied to the legs! Though if ever there is a lesson in not judging a book by its cover this was a good test, as after listening to them for a while I discovered one was studying medicine and the other law. Later that evening, on the way to dinner, my friends were telling me to watch for dog poo and the sidewalk, but then after thinking for a second, actually they said, if you are going into town, probably what is of more concern is avoiding pools of vomit. Although I didn't actually notice any vomit while on the town i did have a run in of sorts at the first bar we went to. My friend Mark, while looking for his work colleagues that were supposed to be at the bar, filled me in for what I was in for. His friend Brian he said was very entertaining but was often thrown out of bars. We shortly met Brian and his female companion, who in her drunken state instantly decided that I was going to be her new best friend and led me around by the hand trying to get me to dance with her. This was soon interupted as we were approached by security who had a word with Brian and the girl, and asked them to leave. Apparently shortly before we had arrived the two had had a competition to see who could down a pint of guiness the fastest. The girl won and then downed the rest of Brians drink, unfortunately she shortly after returned it all all over the bar and her companions!
Thats not to say that I didn't enjoy Dublin. The Irish do some things well, on one of them is drinking and live music in bars. No Lady Gaga, just classic Van Morrison, REM, U2, Green Day etc, this is my type of pub music! I had a good night out bar hopping in the temple bar area, and discovering that some whiskey is much better than others, only Redbreast for me now! The other thing the Irish do well is tell a good yarn. On the Sunday, recovering from yet another late night I managed to crawl out of bed and make it to the city for a walking tour by 2:30pm. It seems I was the only one having trouble getting out of bed on Sunday as I ended up having a private tour of the city. It was a very entertaining tour indeed. I wish I could remember all the little sayings the tour guide used had but unfortunately the only one that sticks in my mind is what she said when she was talking about her love life. Apparently her friend had said to her 'Bev, the man good enough for you hasn't been born yet and his mother's dead!'. Expressing my understanding of her situation, she later took me to a church to light a candle that she said would change my life. Unfortunately there was a service on in the church and we couldn't get in. There were some relics of St Valentine at the church, as well as apparently a shrine to the Saint of hopeless cases. Guess I'm destined to stay hopeless!
