In Ireland, those who live in Dublin claim their fair city as the quintessential Irish town. No place is more Irish than Dublin. The entire rest of the country has united to disagree. As I have stated before, Dublin is the Manhattan of Ireland. Only they get it.
Our honeymoon trip was drawing to an end, with only ONE more day in Dublin city. I personally like Dublin, but it is a city. So if you’re used to quaint Irish towns that would make gorgeous postcards, Dublin is going to be a huge letdown.
Dublin is actually going to be an even bigger letdown when you have a 2 hour ride that turns into a 4 hour ride. So as we left Cashel, we drove into the interior, where all the treacherousness was, to find out, it was indeed there. Even on the bigger carriageways, there was ice all over the place, and to me, Dublin seemed like a wonderful place to ditch the blasted car and walk or take cabs.
Dublin has a lot of history, clearly, and a lot of interesting sights to see, if you decide not to take a long nap when you get there, which is what we did. So of course, we ended up in the pub, getting a terrible bite to eat while we planned our night. We had two choices: go see the book of Kells at Trinity College, or go the Guinness Brewery. We slept through everything else. Well, what would you do?
The Guinness Brewery is actually fascinating. There are five floors of Guinness making history and information. We gave a cursory glance to the screens, oohed over the water displays, and made our way to the tasting area for a quick shot of beer, where we joined all of the college kids who paid the entry fee to sit in the tasting area and drink all of the samples. How lucky are they? I went to school in the capital of beer (Milwaukee) and our brewery that turned a blind eye to this was Pabst. Pabst. (Until Lakefront Brewery came along – but I digress).
We made it through the rest of the floors, until the top, which can be one of the more spectacular sights – the Gravity Bar!
I have been there at all hours of the day – and the best time to go is at dusk. We were there at night, so we couldn’t really see the 360 view that the entirely glass-walled bar provides high above Dublin. Tom sort of got the idea, but by this time, it was just a crowded bar. We decided to hit the gift shop and continue our night in an area unknown to me, but recommended by our cab driver. I didn’t think Tom was a Temple Bar kind of guy, so we took his recommendation.
I will admit that I am kind of a finicky eater, so I take time choosing a restaurant. I don’t know why. In the 5+ years that Tom and I have been dating, he almost always wins the better plate award. I have expressed this to others, and they have observed this bizarre, and slightly unfair phenomenon. So, it doesn’t really matter, because no matter where we go, he will have a good plate, and I probably will not.
Being the good sport he is, we walked around for a long time, because we don’t have reservations on a Dublin Saturday night, stopped at the ATM, where Tom found another reason to hate Dublin: the gypsies and panhandlers beg literally from under the ATM. They sit right under the ATM, and no one chases them away. So in order to get money, Tom had to use the ATM with a gypsy right at his feet. (I like to think I would have given him a little kick.) And then I picked the ANTI-Tom restaurant.
It’s over a year, but I believe it was tapas. And since I lived in Spain, I love all things Espanol. I was Espanol before Madonna went through that phase. Tom likes tapas, but we don’t like the same ones. It didn’t matter, this place was trendy and bad and crowded and not the type of place we like at all. Especially the bi*ch who, when Tom adjusted his chair after using the restroom told him to watch it and gave him the ugliest look I have ever seen on anyone in my life, truly ever. I almost got up and socked her in the eye. It was a super-crowded restaurant, and Tom did apologize, profusely. And she was just plain rude. In the words of one of the greats, Hannibal Lecter, “Rudeness is unspeakably ugly to me.”
We ditched that place with a quickness – bad food and bad people and made our way, to, you guess it! The Pub. Once again, we took a stroll before we decided on a place, and it ended up being ok. Except it looked like a crime scene – which it wasn’t – it just had yellow construction tape all over the place, even in the men’s room. Only us.
We spent the night with a very few leisurely pints observing and commenting on the regulars, spending our last night like weary Dubliners.
Later on, Tom told me he wasn’t a fan. I told him we were tired, and we really didn’t see or do anything except watch the inside of our eyelids, and the bottom of our glasses. I will try and convince him next time! Or the next day when we had a 6 hour delay at the airport!