Better Late than Never

---

---

So it's been a week in Dublin and I think it's about time I get you up to speed with things.The English name for the city is derived from the Irish name Dubh Linn, meaning "black pool", however I am yet to discover the 'big dipper' or any cheap sticks of rock. On that point, I've yet to find anything cheap. Average beer will set you back between €5-6. Nevertheless this hasn't stopped the entire Dublin population binge drinking the country into a recession. I am under no illusion that the reason the Irish economy is so poor is due to this and (when not if) it defaults, it will not prevent everybody from getting blind drunk!

It all started around February 2011 when I realised that all but one of the guys I had shared halls with at the University of Exeter were indulging in a year abroad or in industry. Without sounding too short sighted I figured it would be a healthy investment to follow the same path. All be it a lot narrower and less well lit path...

After a few weeks of frantic photocopying, scanning and printing documents- whose only purpose seemed to me to take up an extra shelf on the bookcase- late flight bookings, insurance policies and personal signatures inevitably signing my life away here I sit listening to Otis Redding 'Sitting on the Dock of the Bay' recovering from an evening of exuberance!

My first ever impression of Ireland and Dublin came from a twitchy commercial Aer Lingus flight from London Gatwick. It became apparent whilst the plane was taxiing that I had sat next to single most nervous man ever to be in my general vicinity. Not being a brilliant flyer myself I reluctantly slipped between the pages of Starter For Ten by David Nicholls, a shameless plug I admit, but one of the best reads of 2011 in my opinion. Rather a handbook to University life for 17-22 year olds than a work of fiction the protagonist Brian Jackson engages, embarrasses, connects with, amuses and enlightens the reader.

Anyway lets not get sidetracked, the real topic in hand is the 8 months left ahead of me in which to 'Discover Ireland' and study at Trinity College Dublin. It was not long before this opportunity was thrust upon me, all be it tinged with the flavour of alcohol. Arriving late on Saturday evening I had just enough time to drop off my 19.8kg (living airport life on the edge) holdall, down 4 pints of Tennants and clamber into a taxi, destination: Purty Kitchen. At this point I have arrived at a suitable juncture to inform you of interesting fact #1:




...or so I am told.




:

This is not only an interesting fact but a very inconvenient one, especially if you are looking to get home quickly; it is not uncommon for a whole road to be dominated by taxis and they are often the only vehicle in sight!

Purty Kitchen. All Dublin nightclubs can be summed up with one word:

Stairs

---------------------------------------Stairs
-------------------------------------Upon
----------------------------------Stairs
--------------------------------Upon
------------------------------Stairs
--------------------------Stairs going up
------------------------To get to toilets downstairs
----------------------Stairs going down
-------------------To get to smoking terrace upstairs