So here I am in London. We arrived last night around 11 after a much delayed flight. First from weather, then the conveyorbelt got stuck under the aircraft so we had to switch planes. 737-800, so you know (not the A321 I listed... I took plenty of pictures of the engines for you Daddio, I believe they are of the CFM flavor right?...56-7B27?)
Anyway,
So we got in at 11- caught the Gatwick Express to Victoria (30min) then the Underground from Victoria to Greene Park and Greene Park to Russel Square (20-30min?). The hostile is a block and a half from the station surrounded by apartments, a shopping center and various hotels.
Now the hotels detail should not be overlooked- as they are known for their "grown-up" and not student friendly pricing, they are famous (in my book) as a first class alternative to hostels (note the s) "facilities" shall we say. So when the choice comes to doing your business in a 85mm by 1m box (or approx 2.5x3ft for those silly Americans- think broom closet..., and I'm not exagerating, I had to climb onto the toliet to close the door, that opened in, such poor design, but more on that later...) or a dormroom (ok, 8'x5') size personal washroom complete with marble decore, personal sink and fancy soaps- what would you choose? Exactly. So noting the presence of local first rate accomodations, such as the Hilton London and Holiday Inn London is citical. Anyway- I've made my introduction so now lets rewind a bit so I can catch you all up on my (or "our", Mom, still not traveling alone) recent affairs, and unfortunately (or to mom's relief) not the Bill Clinton kind.
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Dublin
So Dublin was a whirlwind of alcohol, bad smells, cheap food, flimsy beds, rain, walking and I'm sure if I could remember- stumbling. It was a cacophonic plethora of tourist vivacity, a wizbang wollywomp of rumpus raucous, a circus of ups and downs, ins and outs- fantastical wonders, celtic mayhem! and of course, pubs. Many many many pubs. Infact, I don't believe it is possible to travel more than 20 paces without at least 2 pubs in your peripheral vision, if not right in front of you.
3 days, 2 nights, one incredibly smelly room, 8 other roommates, 17 pubs, tens of attractions and several several pints.
But enough mucking about and procrastination here's how it all went down.
5:50AM July 19th 2007
Wake up,
Airport
Check In
Flight (737-800) MAN-DUB
We arrived in Dublin city around 11. The buildings and view were great, resembling any other large old city. Historic, important and powerful and somewhat quaint at the sametime. We wondered around and found ourselves breakfast, opting for the Small Irish instead of the Full Irish, which is more or less an English without beans and with a crepe ish thing instead of bread. We kept wandering and wandering. Its cool, all of the major signs in Dublin are written in both English and Gaelic.
Anyway, our wandering brings about many famous churchs and buildings and then of course, The Jameson Distillery... So we go in. We get tickets for the tour and at the begining two volunteers are required for something later in the tour, I of course raise my hand and it being only 12:15 am one of the few awake enough to raise so get picked. Needless to say, very interesting process of distilling and maturing, blah blah, and yada yada yada I had six shots. 13:20, 3 hours passed, and six shots deep, Dublin at its finest. Well anyway, let me explian. So When I volunteered, I had actually been chosen as one of the "Whisky Taste Testers". A comparison taste test that took place at the end of the tour compariong Johnny Walker's Scottish Scotch Whisky (which a smokey peaty taste, as a result of the malting method in which they use a peat fuel that emmits alot of fullbodied smoke, as opposed to the irish method that uses a smokeless, oderless fuel (see I learned something)), to American Jack Daniels (which posesses a sweeter taste, distinct perfume as a result of its single distillation from corn or maize, not barley) to two differnt Irish Whiskies, Powders (a brand rarely if ever seen out of IE due to its low production volumes, it has a very spicy and fruity taste), and Middletons (a milder, fruity spicy but sweet whisky) to of course the Jameson 12 year (a 10.75 pound- 22USD$ shot) (a smooth, pleasant blend of vanilla, cherrie and fruity notes, achieved by using multiple batches of preseasoned barrels in the correct quantities, comment if you want more detail, I know the whole process now). Anyway, needless to say Jameson was actually the best and for participating, and "choosing correctly" I got yet another shot of Jameson Original- so I had the five testers plus the one reward. I also received an official Whisky tester certificate. At the tasting we also met a girl named Emma who was a stereotypical looking Swedish 20 something pastry chef on holiday from her job at a major hotel in Stockholm. Originally we were going to do the Guinness brewery storehouse tomorrow but that was her next stop, so we tailed along.
The storehouse wasn't as satisfying touristically speaking, it was all self guided, very "look at me! I was just build, I have stylish designer typefaces" and seeminly overrated. However the view from atop the "Gravity Bar" where you get an elevated 360 view of Dublin while enjoying a "complimentary" pint of Guinness was worth it in itself. I say complimentary because even at a Student discount its like 8£ (16$) per person and I'm almost positive anyone could just walk in and guide themself on the tour, the only thing they wouldnt get is the token you redeem for a pint at the top. Anyway, it was worth it for the view.
So then we continue to wander (Dublin was ALOT of wandering if you havent noticed) get food and head back to the hostel. We then proceed to pass out for about 4ish hours. We get up and its still BRIGHT out, but its almost 9pm. As we wake up we find another hostel goer getting in. Susanna, who I introduce myself to is a cute 20yo girl from Germany and is traveling around. I invite her out on our first pubcrawl and she accepts only she has to get up early so will probably leave prematurely. So we hit John Mulligans on Poolbeg street which I heard was the best pint of Guinness in Ireland. It was. Even better than that of the Guinness factory. Anyway we go to a few more places, Susanna leaves around number 3. We hit two more (one isnt serving anymore). Hit the 5th and then head back. We arn't that bad and it's only 12:30 but we are exhausted and pass out around 12:40.
The next day we wake up, get breakfast at 9 and embark on Bus touring. Now I'll spare you all the details now but (and Mom you'll be happy to know) I learned a significant amount of Irish history and info about Dublin on the tours. I even took notes! Anyway, we got to Dublin Castle and got off and looked around, it was pretty cool, again I'll spare you the educational details but you may want to know that there is only one remaining tower of the original 1204 castle, the rest was rebuilt in 1750 and another bit rebuilt again in 1988- for the why and how, comment and I'll answer. Needless to say, and being completely honest- Dublin was built on Rebellion and Beer. If part of it wasn't built by Arthur Guinness or one of his sons, it was built by a revelutionary or as a result of a rebuild from an uprising or destruction. Also, the official symbol of Ireland is NOT the Shamrock, that is the catholic symbol brought to IE by St.Patrick when he came over in 432BC (AD) the official symbol is actually a golden harp on blue background (or just the Harp in most cases).
Anyway, so on this bus tour, the guide mentioned that the historic Temple Bar area contains 35 Pubs, and thus a challenge was born. Now, you may be thinking, my G-d 35 pubs, you are stupid and how did you not die, but if you say that you would be speaking too soon. See, myself being the mature, intelligent, sensical and most importantly modest individual I am set a much more reasonable and obtainable goal of hitting One Third (1/3) of the Temple Bar Bars making it 12 as the goal. I also reduced the customary pint drink to a half pint minimum, so we could drink a half pint and still go about calling it a hit.
We set out, however we quickly realized we were hungry. So we ventured into the full kitchen which is strictly serve yourself. Having no ingredients of our own Nichols the manager pointed us in the direction of the FREE BIN- this is where aging garlic flower and sugar, various left overs of malt vinager, grated dry cheese and cooking vingar wine had made its way to over the weeks. So we located two open bags of pasta that seemed somewhat fresh, garlic cloves, cooking wine vinegar, the malt vinegar, flour, sugar, a bit of oil we stole, grated cheese, and a bag of clearly old, tomato soup bullion. We had a plan. I boiled the pasta in a sea salt, garlic, wine and water mix while Win stewed up the soup mix to which I added a touch of flour to in an attempt to gain thickness for use as a sauce. I then carmelized some garlic in a sugar, flour, salt batter in oil, and after the initial sauce was done, added them to the sauce, stirred and let steep. I drained the pasta, Win added the sauce, we mixed, served, topped with cheese and actually, believe it or not, enjoyed! We were extremely pleasantly surprised at the results and congratulated ourselves on the obvious expression of culinary mastery we just displayed. The entire meal was free, filling and good- so we headed out. We entered Temple Bar and proceeded to hit 12 pubs, the order of which I will not remember without picture assistance (which is upstairs right now) however, we did enjoy 7 pints total as well as another round at SuperMac's- the "100% Irish" clone of McDonald's then a stumble of which I only vaugely remember parts of back to our room. To find it empty and 22:20 (10:20pm) (We started at about 18:30). I don't really recall much but the journal entry which I discovered the next morning (which I had no recollection of writing, explains it all)-
July 20th 10:20
already completelu
housed but made
our goal - 12 bars
bars. goodnight
Supermace
Supermacs - good
night - very
shitfaced
So when I say next morning, I mean 3:43am July 21st. I woke up due to rain, and an urge to pee. So I get back and lay down, but to no avail cannot pass back out. I then try to remember what time we got in (and not remembering I made an entry) get very dissapointed inmyself that I forgot to make an entry documenting it. So I go to write and 5 words in see the entry above and for a second sit amazed at my dedication and excellent. Even in complete intoxicated ignorance and discombobulation I managed to unzip my bag, get out my journal, scribble away some notes, replace my journal perfectly and rezip my bag. However the circumstances are clearly evident in the penmenship. Anyway, so as I lie wide awake in my bed, apparently me getting up activated a cycle, as each other hostel member got up one at a time and in a senquencial clockwise order to go to the bathroom, they then began a concerto of gastric proportions. The maestros de los sphyntos ceased at around 4 but the smell remained. Not to mention the somewhat vile smell of sour milk and BO already present in the belongs of the oppiste sleeper whos boots and old laundry lay at the end of my bed. (Susanna had checked out that morning along with any other females, leaveing the room a complete sausage fest- and a seemingly rotten and festering one at that).
Anyway, so I decide that there is no way I'm getting back to sleep and I am very thirsty. so at about 4:15 in shorts, an undershirt and flip flops I venture out across O'Connel Bridge (I could go on about its history, if you want) for a 24 hour convience store, I also call Zack, talking to Zack was nice, I miss him. (its only 1130EDT).I go to Londis and I get some Evian (because its Cheaper than Volvic, mistake, you get what you pay for- Evian in EU is TERRIBLE, but its still water). Zack told me he came over and talked to my parents that night, amusing. Anyway, so I get back and chat with some of the hostel staff that is up and about at the reception desk. Then I go upstairs. Suddenly and without warning, the tolls of last night all become very apparent and I quickly position myself with much effort and discomfort in the 2ftx3ft closet that is a bathroom (mentioned in the intro) in a sitting position. A long battle ensues mainly fought in the wet mudd trenches and at sea, in several waves. Somewhat relieved I return to the room, thinking that possibly the emminence of the battle may be what prevented my slumber. Alas, I still cannot sleep . I then discover that Win has also woken up (most likely from the mass urination exodus or the butt-trumpet recital that followed.) and has not be able to return to sandman land. After telling me about my bedroom behavour last night in which (in a luckty vacant room, aside from Win) I apparently, right after I lay down, shot up screaming "fuck fuck! My journal, I didn't make an entry, fuck, I need to make an entry." followed by a shaking of Win in distressed excitement, "I'm gonna do it now!"- immediately followed by a hasty retrival and scribbling on the bed, stowing of the journal, then an abrupt passing out.
I shared my amusement and we set out. Its about 6. We wander and wander, walking much of the north part of southern Dublin. We stumble across a place called "next" (imagine if express and luckybrand merged, and Express was the dominant parent) have a 5am sale. So I go in, because, what the hell else were we going to do. I buy a polo (thier sized are much smaller, the Large fits like a snug medium.) We exit hastily after I get wind, or more correctly, the other sale goer get wind of another oncoming battle. Refusing to return to that desolate infant sized prison cell, I immediately seek an open hotel. After many awkward positions and funny walk, Wins amusement and my pain- I locate the Westin: Dublin. At 6:30am there really isn't much staff around the main reception area and we steal away to the Mezenane level where I discover the Cadillac of poopin stools- the largest handicap stall, I have ever seen. Now I call it a stall because it is actually located within another bathroom, and thus cannot be its own. But for all intents and purposes, it was its own room. Complete with personal washsink. A battle raged for a while as Win entertained himself with his new cellphone ringtons (his replacement cell is a story in itself). Afterwards, I was much relieved- my innards evacuated, feeling exceptionally "empty".
7:05, after more wandering, as we stroll down O'Connel street, I boldly stand and declare
"Dublin has needledick."
You see, in WWII or what have you, the pillar in the main square was bombed and then recently it was rebuilt as a giant moderist stainless still needle that stretches several hundred feet into the sky. It stands in the middle of the main shopping district and screams for comment.
8am - to finish in brief-
We shower and have toast and cereal- wander, go to a few more sites, wander some more, catch a bus and are on our way to London.
Went to Manchester city, went to the Townhall, The John Rylands Library, saw some really old books, then the Arndale Shopping Centre, found and Apple Store, introduced myself got along marvelously with the staff, stayed, chatted and got invited to drinks. Had them come to the Church instead. Entertained at the Church, talked Apple stuff, hung out with Tom, Anthony, Win and Rob, went to bed. 5:50... see above.
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