St. Patrick's Day!
The morning of St. Patrick's Day started out somewhat early, but not too early. We needed to take the car back to the airport, but we couldn't check into our hostel in Dublin until later. But first, breakfast. Leaving the part of the building known as the hotel, we found out that the abyss of last night turned into a beach. 'Tis a shame, we could've visited the beach last night. We got down to the restaurant at exactly 9 am, and the poor girl who was working there didn't even have the windows and doors open. Everyone but Alicia got the full-Irish breakfast, which, if I haven't mentioned it before, is little more than a plate full of cholesterol. And sometimes toast.
We got directions from the girl for the quickest way to the airport. Apparently we were really close and we only had to make about two turns all in all. Simple, right? We thought so. Although our history with the insane lack of any marked roads in Ireland ever, we should've been much more on our toes. She told us to look for a road, the name escapes me now, which we did actually find. It was a half-rusted, partially-bent, faded road sign and was no bigger than a US license plate, and at about 90 kmh we went soaring past, but we turned around and found it. Going off the map that the lady at the car rental place gave us, as well as a giant map of Ireland that Alicia had, we found the airport exit on the M50 (I almost don't want to add that due to my navigation we took the right exit once, decided it was wrong, continued down the road, had to turn around, and took the right exit once again). We made it to the car return parking lot after filling up with gas. I think we figured it out the be around $4 a gallon, which is pretty spendy. Good thing their cars are microscopic.
Goodbye little Opel!
It was a huge relief to know that we made it back in one piece and to know that I didn't have to navigate anymore and I know Philip was relieved he didn't have to drive anymore. For once I was glad to rely on public transportation. The shuttle took us back to the airport where we found a taxi driver who was willing to take us to our hostel. It was getting very near parade time, so they had the road in front of our hostel blocked off, but our driver talked the Garda into letting us through. Also, every building on that street was seemingly assigned the most random numbers anyone could think of. We were looking for no. 7, and found it between no. 52 and 108. It was around 11:30 by the time we lugged our luggage up the stairs to the lobby of the hostel, only to find about a group of 10 people trying to leave. The guy in charge, who we later learned was a Serbian refugee living there with his family and a couple other Serbs, thought we were trying to check out. We stood there waiting for about 10 minutes to learn it wasn't check-in time yet. I paid him for the rooms and we left our luggage in the kitchen area and went off to the parade.
There were vendors upon vendors upon vendors selling cheesey St. Patrick's Day swag. There were people from all different countries everywhere. We found a spot next to the Spire on O'Connell St. to watch the parade. There really wasn't anything out of the ordinary to note, except we stood by students who were in Ireland studying English (some were Dutch, German, etc), I'm pretty sure I deflected a pickpocket while holding Lauren's mom-purse, and people were climbing into trees to get a better view of the parade. Oh, and we got sunburnt. In March. In Ireland.
Parade Crowd
After the parade we made the short walk back to the hostel to put our bags in our rooms. The Serbian, I wish I could remember his name, was nowhere to be found, neither was our key. So Lauren and I put our stuff in our room and closed the door. We actually didn't have a key to that room for the whole time we stayed there. Which also meant we didn't have a key to the front door. That's a funny story, but that comes much later.
After that, we were off to explore Dublin's Fair City. Our first order of business was lunch. Where else to get lunch on St. Patrick's Day in Dublin? The Brazen Head, Ireland's oldest pub, of course. We walked a good while along the river Liffey, which runs right through the heart of the old city. Everywhere you looked you'd see people dressed in orange and green. We made it to the Brazen Head, est. 1198. They're not sure how much of the original buildings still remain, but the Brazen Head consists of three or four rooms, a patio, and an upstairs area. We had to wait outside for some people to leave and walked in to the patio area only to find one of the crowdest pubs in Dublin that day. The only place they were serving food was upstairs, so we found our way up to the second floor where it was suddenly more restaurant-ish than like a pub. They were communal tables so we had to sit wherever there was an open spot. We ended up next to a couple from Germany who were in Dublin just for the weekend to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. As soon as we sat down, the German man took an immediate liking to Phil (if I remember right, it's because of his red hair). They talked the entire time we were there up until the German couple left. "He's my Jake O'Connor" ~Philip
Irish Stew
After lunch we set out to see some more of the city. We went south to see if we could find St. Patrick's Cathedral, but yet again, we got lost. We did, however, end up seeing Dublin Castle, Christchurch Cathedral, and hoards upon hoards of fellow tourist clearly enjoying St. Patrick's Day a bit too well.
On top of the Bars
Christchurch Cathedral
Dublin Castle
I had written down the address to Whelan's Pub, the one they filmed P.S. I Love You in. It is, in fact, a very real place, with a very rich musical history, and is a long ass way from the part of town we were in. 0.8 KM to be exact. By the time we got there I didn't even care about going anymore because I was so tired (we had already walked a couple miles just to get to Dublin Castle). Alas, we made it. And let me tell you, it is purely unlikely Holly would have randomly walked into the same exact pub Gerry was playing in that night. In the movie they make it seem like it was in a little town perhaps in Wicklow and quite possibly the only pub around. Wrong. It's on a busy street and is absolutely surrounded by other pubs. Nonetheless, we were there so we went in to have a pint.
We walked in to a pub that was barely recognizable. It was not the same one as the movie. Sure the colors were the same, but the layout was entirely, unrecognizably, changed. And the entire place was crowded. So was the upstairs area, which was closer to an enclosed rooftop with heaters. We didn't find a seat anywhere so we went out into the hallway and sat on the stairs. That is, until a bouncer came up to find someone and told us we couldn't sit there. So we stood at the top of the stairs. While we were there the manager, one of the guys who wears the white button-down shirts, came walking by to put something in the closet. As he was walking away I asked him if the movie was filmed here. He asked which movie, and said the title of one I'd never heard of. Then he asked if it was the movie Once (which is an absolutely fantastic movie, by the way, and you should check it out sometime). Lauren, miraculously, got what I was getting at and played along. She said something to the effect of "The one with Gerard Butler... where he dies..." and the manager said "Oh, yeah, that one! Yeah, it was filmed downstairs." He then explained that up until about six months prior they had the row of snugs down the middle of the pub but they opened up the whole thing for more room so they took them out. Now we were content. Then he continued to ask where we were from and things like that and Lauren gave her usual spiel about studying abroad in Italy and how we were here for spring break, etc... He asked us if we had ever heard of the band that was playing that night, which we hadn't. Turns out, You Am I, the band, had just performed in Australia for 100,000 people for a benefit concert to help with the wildfires. They are virtually unknown in the US and Ireland. The manager put us on the list.
By then it was getting late, and we went off to find another pub. We went next door to one that seemed like it might have a place to sit. It was called Flannery's. It was probably one of the most eclectic places I've ever seen in my life and was insanely busy. Near the dance floor (or what would have been the dance floor if it hadn't been so crowded) the ceiling and walls were frescoed in classic Michelangelo-style paintings. We found a seat as a couple drinking wine was leaving. Phil opted to stand while the three of us shared the bench. There we had some shots and Philip had, yet again, another pint. Although I have to say that I at least kept with the country we were in and had a shot of Jameson. Lauren and Alicia had Jaeger. Bleh. After we were there for a bit a group of girls started talking to Philip, much to Alicia's discontent. When they were leaving they said they were going next door because it would be quieter. I can't remember the name of the pub now, and I almost want to say it started with an L. No matter, if you're ever in Dublin in Flannery's pub, it's next to it.
Shots at Flannery's
After a few more minutes we decided to follow their lead. Quiet would be a good thing. However, we weren't expecting a completely empty pub, which is what we found. There was one patron at the bar and that was it. It was sort of a mod type of place, too. It had two big screen TVs. Which was great because we had about 15 minutes before The Simpsons' first-ever St. Patrick's Day episode aired. I owed Lauren a shot so I told the bartender "a shot of the cheapest gin you have." I wouldn't even tell Lauren what it was and her face was priceless afterwards.
As it got closer to the beginning of the episode the pub started to slowly fill up with people. Everyone was looking for seats. My guess is that this was the only place around where they were showing it. Finally, the episode started. It was a pretty special moment to be a group of four Americans sitting in a pub full of Irishmen and tourists and laughing at all the same jokes. Some were aimed at the Irish, some at Americans. I don't even like The Simpsons but this was a really funny episode.
The funniest part of the episode. Sorry, but it's the only clip I could find.
After it ended we headed back over to Whelan's for the show. After we were cleared we walked into what was an unmistakably unaltered room where Gerry sang to Holly. It made sense then. The only difference is the door she walks through carrying the Guinness was shut because of the show. Other than that, it was perfect.
Us in front of the stage
You Am I
The show was actually pretty good, too. A band called The Minutes opened and then You Am I came on. Some people in the crowd were singing along, most weren't. Before the end Lauren and I decided to head up to Temple Bar because her friends were meeting her there. So we left Philip and Alicia there and made our way up. The walk was odd, because it seemed infinitely shorter than it should have. Its roughly a kilometer between them. Oh well. Oh, and we stopped for some Chinese food on the way. Yes. Chinese food. Get over it. Lauren conned a couple of guys who were sitting there to open her bottle of beer, which they did. Then we got yelled at by the employees. So we had to sit the furthest away from the front counter as we could so they wouldn't see she hadn't thrown it away. We were on our way again.
We were almost to Temple Bar when we had to make a short detour to cross the street easier. We found Philip and Alicia sitting in some sort of American hamburger shop eating fries and a bacon burger. It was possibly the most random moment of my life. So we went in and talked to them for a bit and continued on our way.
So great
When we got to the mayhem known as Temple Bar (for future reference there's a bar/pub called Temple Bar - or Temple Barra- and there's also a block of shops known as Temple Bar - in this case, "bar" meaning an area next to the river). We were simply to the block. There were Garda all over as well as the most drunk college kids I've ever seen in my whole life. We eventually found her friends, some were cool, some were possibly so annoying it would have been entirely justifiable to slap them. Philip and Alicia found us and after a while we decided to go find a seat in a nearby gelatterie (right? I think that's right...) anyway, to avoid confusion: gelato shop. Lauren eventually went off with her friends and tried to get into Temple Bar but they wouldn't her in because she had a bottle of Bud in her hand. I don't know where they ended up but Philip, Alicia, and I were going to call it a night. So we walked back to the hostel (crossing the River Liffey over Ha'Penny bridge, I might add). It was only when we got to the door that we didn't know how Lauren was going to get in without a key. We only had a key because Phil and Alicia had a key to their room. Then I started to get worried about her getting in but I went to sleep anyway.
One of the lines to get into Temple Bar
Back at the Hotel in one of the hallways by the bathrooms
I was woken up by the sound of someone tromping on the floor seemingly as loud as they could. Then Lauren, miraculously, burst through our unlocked door, scaring me to death. She was drunk, and I don't know how long I'd been asleep but I was mostly just impressed that not only did she make it back on her own, but that she actually got through the front door without a key. She burst into the story without being asked and, like with all of Lauren's stories, they are a billion times better to have her tell it in person but seeing as how I didn't magically record her (man, that would've been a great idea), this is the best I've got: One of her friends had a hostel nearby so she walked back with her. If I remember right, she almost took the wrong street and got lost. When she got to the door she found it locked, of course, so she started ringing the bell. No answer. So she rang it and rang it and finally just held it in. Then she said a guy with long hair who was in his boxers and a t-shirt answered the door. She recounted his voice with an accent, which can only be described as possibly Eastern European, "My room is next to the bell. I heard it so I came to see who was out here." She then went into further description about this guy. By the time she told me this I was laughing so hard because not only did I imagine this guy to look similar to what Viktor Krumm would look like, she has a way of making things a hundred times funnier than what they probably are. So she finished getting ready for bed and we both fell asleep to drunk tourists walking the street outside our window. Thus, the end of St. Patrick's Day 2009.
The morning of St. Patrick's Day started out somewhat early, but not too early. We needed to take the car back to the airport, but we couldn't check into our hostel in Dublin until later. But first, breakfast. Leaving the part of the building known as the hotel, we found out that the abyss of last night turned into a beach. 'Tis a shame, we could've visited the beach last night. We got down to the restaurant at exactly 9 am, and the poor girl who was working there didn't even have the windows and doors open. Everyone but Alicia got the full-Irish breakfast, which, if I haven't mentioned it before, is little more than a plate full of cholesterol. And sometimes toast.
We got directions from the girl for the quickest way to the airport. Apparently we were really close and we only had to make about two turns all in all. Simple, right? We thought so. Although our history with the insane lack of any marked roads in Ireland ever, we should've been much more on our toes. She told us to look for a road, the name escapes me now, which we did actually find. It was a half-rusted, partially-bent, faded road sign and was no bigger than a US license plate, and at about 90 kmh we went soaring past, but we turned around and found it. Going off the map that the lady at the car rental place gave us, as well as a giant map of Ireland that Alicia had, we found the airport exit on the M50 (I almost don't want to add that due to my navigation we took the right exit once, decided it was wrong, continued down the road, had to turn around, and took the right exit once again). We made it to the car return parking lot after filling up with gas. I think we figured it out the be around $4 a gallon, which is pretty spendy. Good thing their cars are microscopic.
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| From Ireland |
Goodbye little Opel!
It was a huge relief to know that we made it back in one piece and to know that I didn't have to navigate anymore and I know Philip was relieved he didn't have to drive anymore. For once I was glad to rely on public transportation. The shuttle took us back to the airport where we found a taxi driver who was willing to take us to our hostel. It was getting very near parade time, so they had the road in front of our hostel blocked off, but our driver talked the Garda into letting us through. Also, every building on that street was seemingly assigned the most random numbers anyone could think of. We were looking for no. 7, and found it between no. 52 and 108. It was around 11:30 by the time we lugged our luggage up the stairs to the lobby of the hostel, only to find about a group of 10 people trying to leave. The guy in charge, who we later learned was a Serbian refugee living there with his family and a couple other Serbs, thought we were trying to check out. We stood there waiting for about 10 minutes to learn it wasn't check-in time yet. I paid him for the rooms and we left our luggage in the kitchen area and went off to the parade.
There were vendors upon vendors upon vendors selling cheesey St. Patrick's Day swag. There were people from all different countries everywhere. We found a spot next to the Spire on O'Connell St. to watch the parade. There really wasn't anything out of the ordinary to note, except we stood by students who were in Ireland studying English (some were Dutch, German, etc), I'm pretty sure I deflected a pickpocket while holding Lauren's mom-purse, and people were climbing into trees to get a better view of the parade. Oh, and we got sunburnt. In March. In Ireland.
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| From Ireland |
Parade Crowd
After the parade we made the short walk back to the hostel to put our bags in our rooms. The Serbian, I wish I could remember his name, was nowhere to be found, neither was our key. So Lauren and I put our stuff in our room and closed the door. We actually didn't have a key to that room for the whole time we stayed there. Which also meant we didn't have a key to the front door. That's a funny story, but that comes much later.
After that, we were off to explore Dublin's Fair City. Our first order of business was lunch. Where else to get lunch on St. Patrick's Day in Dublin? The Brazen Head, Ireland's oldest pub, of course. We walked a good while along the river Liffey, which runs right through the heart of the old city. Everywhere you looked you'd see people dressed in orange and green. We made it to the Brazen Head, est. 1198. They're not sure how much of the original buildings still remain, but the Brazen Head consists of three or four rooms, a patio, and an upstairs area. We had to wait outside for some people to leave and walked in to the patio area only to find one of the crowdest pubs in Dublin that day. The only place they were serving food was upstairs, so we found our way up to the second floor where it was suddenly more restaurant-ish than like a pub. They were communal tables so we had to sit wherever there was an open spot. We ended up next to a couple from Germany who were in Dublin just for the weekend to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. As soon as we sat down, the German man took an immediate liking to Phil (if I remember right, it's because of his red hair). They talked the entire time we were there up until the German couple left. "He's my Jake O'Connor" ~Philip
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| From Ireland |
Irish Stew
After lunch we set out to see some more of the city. We went south to see if we could find St. Patrick's Cathedral, but yet again, we got lost. We did, however, end up seeing Dublin Castle, Christchurch Cathedral, and hoards upon hoards of fellow tourist clearly enjoying St. Patrick's Day a bit too well.
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| From Ireland |
On top of the Bars
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| From Ireland |
Christchurch Cathedral
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| From Ireland |
Dublin Castle
I had written down the address to Whelan's Pub, the one they filmed P.S. I Love You in. It is, in fact, a very real place, with a very rich musical history, and is a long ass way from the part of town we were in. 0.8 KM to be exact. By the time we got there I didn't even care about going anymore because I was so tired (we had already walked a couple miles just to get to Dublin Castle). Alas, we made it. And let me tell you, it is purely unlikely Holly would have randomly walked into the same exact pub Gerry was playing in that night. In the movie they make it seem like it was in a little town perhaps in Wicklow and quite possibly the only pub around. Wrong. It's on a busy street and is absolutely surrounded by other pubs. Nonetheless, we were there so we went in to have a pint.
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| From Ireland |
We walked in to a pub that was barely recognizable. It was not the same one as the movie. Sure the colors were the same, but the layout was entirely, unrecognizably, changed. And the entire place was crowded. So was the upstairs area, which was closer to an enclosed rooftop with heaters. We didn't find a seat anywhere so we went out into the hallway and sat on the stairs. That is, until a bouncer came up to find someone and told us we couldn't sit there. So we stood at the top of the stairs. While we were there the manager, one of the guys who wears the white button-down shirts, came walking by to put something in the closet. As he was walking away I asked him if the movie was filmed here. He asked which movie, and said the title of one I'd never heard of. Then he asked if it was the movie Once (which is an absolutely fantastic movie, by the way, and you should check it out sometime). Lauren, miraculously, got what I was getting at and played along. She said something to the effect of "The one with Gerard Butler... where he dies..." and the manager said "Oh, yeah, that one! Yeah, it was filmed downstairs." He then explained that up until about six months prior they had the row of snugs down the middle of the pub but they opened up the whole thing for more room so they took them out. Now we were content. Then he continued to ask where we were from and things like that and Lauren gave her usual spiel about studying abroad in Italy and how we were here for spring break, etc... He asked us if we had ever heard of the band that was playing that night, which we hadn't. Turns out, You Am I, the band, had just performed in Australia for 100,000 people for a benefit concert to help with the wildfires. They are virtually unknown in the US and Ireland. The manager put us on the list.
By then it was getting late, and we went off to find another pub. We went next door to one that seemed like it might have a place to sit. It was called Flannery's. It was probably one of the most eclectic places I've ever seen in my life and was insanely busy. Near the dance floor (or what would have been the dance floor if it hadn't been so crowded) the ceiling and walls were frescoed in classic Michelangelo-style paintings. We found a seat as a couple drinking wine was leaving. Phil opted to stand while the three of us shared the bench. There we had some shots and Philip had, yet again, another pint. Although I have to say that I at least kept with the country we were in and had a shot of Jameson. Lauren and Alicia had Jaeger. Bleh. After we were there for a bit a group of girls started talking to Philip, much to Alicia's discontent. When they were leaving they said they were going next door because it would be quieter. I can't remember the name of the pub now, and I almost want to say it started with an L. No matter, if you're ever in Dublin in Flannery's pub, it's next to it.
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| From Ireland |
Shots at Flannery's
After a few more minutes we decided to follow their lead. Quiet would be a good thing. However, we weren't expecting a completely empty pub, which is what we found. There was one patron at the bar and that was it. It was sort of a mod type of place, too. It had two big screen TVs. Which was great because we had about 15 minutes before The Simpsons' first-ever St. Patrick's Day episode aired. I owed Lauren a shot so I told the bartender "a shot of the cheapest gin you have." I wouldn't even tell Lauren what it was and her face was priceless afterwards.
As it got closer to the beginning of the episode the pub started to slowly fill up with people. Everyone was looking for seats. My guess is that this was the only place around where they were showing it. Finally, the episode started. It was a pretty special moment to be a group of four Americans sitting in a pub full of Irishmen and tourists and laughing at all the same jokes. Some were aimed at the Irish, some at Americans. I don't even like The Simpsons but this was a really funny episode.
The funniest part of the episode. Sorry, but it's the only clip I could find.
After it ended we headed back over to Whelan's for the show. After we were cleared we walked into what was an unmistakably unaltered room where Gerry sang to Holly. It made sense then. The only difference is the door she walks through carrying the Guinness was shut because of the show. Other than that, it was perfect.
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| From Ireland |
Us in front of the stage
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| From Ireland |
You Am I
The show was actually pretty good, too. A band called The Minutes opened and then You Am I came on. Some people in the crowd were singing along, most weren't. Before the end Lauren and I decided to head up to Temple Bar because her friends were meeting her there. So we left Philip and Alicia there and made our way up. The walk was odd, because it seemed infinitely shorter than it should have. Its roughly a kilometer between them. Oh well. Oh, and we stopped for some Chinese food on the way. Yes. Chinese food. Get over it. Lauren conned a couple of guys who were sitting there to open her bottle of beer, which they did. Then we got yelled at by the employees. So we had to sit the furthest away from the front counter as we could so they wouldn't see she hadn't thrown it away. We were on our way again.
We were almost to Temple Bar when we had to make a short detour to cross the street easier. We found Philip and Alicia sitting in some sort of American hamburger shop eating fries and a bacon burger. It was possibly the most random moment of my life. So we went in and talked to them for a bit and continued on our way.
So great
When we got to the mayhem known as Temple Bar (for future reference there's a bar/pub called Temple Bar - or Temple Barra- and there's also a block of shops known as Temple Bar - in this case, "bar" meaning an area next to the river). We were simply to the block. There were Garda all over as well as the most drunk college kids I've ever seen in my whole life. We eventually found her friends, some were cool, some were possibly so annoying it would have been entirely justifiable to slap them. Philip and Alicia found us and after a while we decided to go find a seat in a nearby gelatterie (right? I think that's right...) anyway, to avoid confusion: gelato shop. Lauren eventually went off with her friends and tried to get into Temple Bar but they wouldn't her in because she had a bottle of Bud in her hand. I don't know where they ended up but Philip, Alicia, and I were going to call it a night. So we walked back to the hostel (crossing the River Liffey over Ha'Penny bridge, I might add). It was only when we got to the door that we didn't know how Lauren was going to get in without a key. We only had a key because Phil and Alicia had a key to their room. Then I started to get worried about her getting in but I went to sleep anyway.
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| From Ireland |
One of the lines to get into Temple Bar
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| From Ireland |
Back at the Hotel in one of the hallways by the bathrooms
I was woken up by the sound of someone tromping on the floor seemingly as loud as they could. Then Lauren, miraculously, burst through our unlocked door, scaring me to death. She was drunk, and I don't know how long I'd been asleep but I was mostly just impressed that not only did she make it back on her own, but that she actually got through the front door without a key. She burst into the story without being asked and, like with all of Lauren's stories, they are a billion times better to have her tell it in person but seeing as how I didn't magically record her (man, that would've been a great idea), this is the best I've got: One of her friends had a hostel nearby so she walked back with her. If I remember right, she almost took the wrong street and got lost. When she got to the door she found it locked, of course, so she started ringing the bell. No answer. So she rang it and rang it and finally just held it in. Then she said a guy with long hair who was in his boxers and a t-shirt answered the door. She recounted his voice with an accent, which can only be described as possibly Eastern European, "My room is next to the bell. I heard it so I came to see who was out here." She then went into further description about this guy. By the time she told me this I was laughing so hard because not only did I imagine this guy to look similar to what Viktor Krumm would look like, she has a way of making things a hundred times funnier than what they probably are. So she finished getting ready for bed and we both fell asleep to drunk tourists walking the street outside our window. Thus, the end of St. Patrick's Day 2009.
Bonus!
This is the trailer for Once, because I believe it's a great movie. Also, it has some shots of Dublin, which makes me want to go back so bad...
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