Sean and Fiona

At a point when most people would toss in the towel and head for the hills, Maureen and I decided to continue our night in Dingle after being kicked out of Dick Mack’s.  It was not for lack of being served that we decided to continue our night, but more accurately was because of being over served that we made the decision to follow one of our new friends Sean onto an afterhours bar called An Droicead Beag, or The Small Bridge in gaelic.

It can easily be said that An Droicead Beag is the most colorful pub in all of Dingle, but this would not be some sort of metaphor.  The outside walls are painted bright yellow, so that even late at night, it is not a difficult place to spot.  A sign by the door announced nightly live music, although this night it was not traditional Irish music, but a single fellow with his guitar.  The inside of the pub was more in line with what we would see in a standard Irish Pub back home, but it was still not as Americanized as some.  We quickly ordered our pints, and found a place to set a spell, then we would meet the first person on our trip who took an honest disliking to us.

An Droicead Beag (The Small Bridge). The most colorful pub in all of Dingle.

Her name was Fiona, and to honest, she probably had no good reason to like us.  Because Fiona liked Sean, and Sean didn’t feel like liking Fiona that night so he let her know that by introducing her to us as his cousin, giving a Irish angle to the term “kissing cousins.”  And thus would begin our entry into a bizarre love triangle – with Fiona trying to get on Sean, Sean trying to extricate himself, and the two of us just wanting more pints and somehow caught in the middle – likely Sean was using us as an excuse – he couldn’t leave with her because  he “had to entertain his American friends.”  Or maybe not, we didn’t really care.  But since we were there, and caught in the middle, why not enjoy the soap opera?

As the pints continued to flow, and the singing and the dancing continued on into the night, somewhere along the way we lost track of Sean and Fiona.  It is possible that Sean succeeded in slipping out the back door.  It is also quite possible that Fiona was triumphant in her persuite.  The ultimate outcome really doesn’t matter.  Somehow I doubt that this honeymooning couple from Chicago made as much of an impression on Sean and Fiona as they made on us.  They are forever now a part of our lives, eventhough we will most likely never see them again.

Sean and Fiona. Kissing cousins at An Droicead Beag?

Ain’t love grand?

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