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Published: September 16th 2008
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. . . but before we left Dublin we decided we needed one more night of destruction to really thank Rob for all of his hospitality 😊 First we were off to the largest club I've seen yet. Four stories of dancing and mayhem in a place that looked like it had been plucked straight out of Vegas. Lights flashing everywhere with gaudy statues and horrific paintings filling up every inch of space that wasn't already occupied by thousands of Irish kids and tourists out for 10Euro beer night. Thankfully we weren't there for more than a pint before we were off to the greatest non-traditional club/bar we'd been to yet. You'd have no idea this place even existed unless you noticed the large bouncer out front having a smoke and waiting to glare at you as you entered. The entrance is off a tiny little sidestreet/back alley and it looks as if you're heading up to someone's apartment. In fact when you walk up the first flight of stairs you might as well be in someone's apartment. There were several huge rooms that looked exactly like a large flat in New York. Fireplace, bar, long "Last Supper" type tables, mirrors,
low lighting, and high ceilings filled the place. There was an intimacy that filled the rooms as if everyone there had been invited by the flat owner and we were all just hanging out and socializing. Brian instantly fell in love with the place so our bar might end up looking like a copycat of this one. We ended the night without Rob and Carl as they were both mingling with the ladies, and after saying goodbye and being asked if we had the key, we headed back home. We did have the key, we just didn't have the alarm code. For those of you who lived in the dorms at SB and know what a deafening alarm can sound like, this was just it. It started quietly as a subtle warning, and then proceeded to grow in strength to the point where it was painful to be in the house. Three phone calls and Rob finally heard our ring in the loud club and gave us the code. Poor Rob, putting up these seemingly nice/innocent Americans who set off alarms at 2AM in quiet Castleknock and try to burn down his apartment plugging in hair dryers. Surprisingly he's already
asked when we're coming to visit again 😊
The next day we were off to County Cork to see Blarney. There really are no words to describe the beauty that is the Blarney castle, so enjoy the photos. Brian and I both kissed the Blarney stone (the history is fascinating if any of you are curious http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blarney_Stone) and explored the grounds until the rain chilled our core. Now for those of you who know me well, you know there is no place I can go without doing something silly, clumsy, or just purely idiotic. I can't help it, it just happens that way. Well sure enough as we were leaving Blarney we stopped at a gas station. In Ireland, if you want to wash your car, they have washing pumps at almost every station. You pay and then choose "soap spray" or "water" buttons to clean off your car. Right as I was walking back to the car, a man was having trouble with his pump, so to check why the soap wasn't coming out, he aimed it out in front of his body (not noticing me), and sure enough a blast of soap spray shot out and covered
me from head to toe in soapy bubble spots. I looked as if I'd walked though a car wash. The man was incredibly apologetic, and I just laughed. This adventure wouldn't be an adventure if I didn't get into all of my mishaps.
Next we were off to Cobh to see the last port of the Titanic. We enjoyed the view and several pints at the local bar, and Brian had his first run in with true Irish accents. I watched as six men circled around him as he attempted to get us drinks, all of them firing questions at once as he stood in the middle, deer in headlights, trying to make out a single word they were saying. Once he seemed to have it down he realized that the best thing to do was just laugh and say very little. We watched an awesome hurling match with the locals and were back in the car.
That night I drove the long road out to Dingle (Brian drove on the way to Blarney which was an experience unto itself. Rather than figuring out the right gear he would just yell and try to start the car from
a dead stop in 3rd. There is nothing like watching someone you love yell at an inanimate object and realize its actually one of the many reasons you love them. He never really found the right gears so there was always a light burning smell coming from the clutch. He also never really found the middle of the road, so often I would have to yell "middle" as we were veering into other lanes or bushes. We made it safely though 😊 Continuing on, the long drives to Blarney and Dingle were filled with song, laughter, and much talking. I've always realized the profound effect music has on my life, but hearing a few songs that reminded me of home actually brought me to tears. Marg, there were several songs you and I have hair-danced to that I had to rock on my own. I tried to explain the hair dance to Brian, but it will never be the same without you. Dad, driving around the Dingle Peninsula watching the surfers and listening to "Ripple" followed up by "Touch of Grey" brought tears to my eyes.
We stayed the first night in Dingle at the Baywatch B&B and the
next day drove around Slea Head, which is a beautiful scenic road around the Dingle Peninsula. We played on the beach while a young man fiddled Irish melodies, watched the surfers (I saw a guy catch the greatest little curl Dad! You would have been in heaven!), and we generally enjoyed the sunshine. We grabbed a couple of pints at the most "Westerly Bar in Europe" as its advertised with a sign out front stating "next pub, Boston" and had our fist reminder of true Irish hospitality. We realized we were out of cash, and this tiny little bar out in the middle of nowhere certainly didn't take cards. Neil, the owner, a young guy probably in his early 30's told us not to worry about it. We could pay another time or visit again. He didn't write anything down or take any collateral, just our words. It was amazingly refreshing and of course our first stop as soon as I finish typing is back out to the pub to thank and pay him. I wish people held that kind of trust in mankind in the states, but my "sense of community" blog will come on another day.
While
Brian napped that afternoon and set new records for amount of time playing Sudoku, I wandered Dingle and spent the rest of the afternoon in a tiny garden off the street sipping tea and enjoying the tranquility. That night we enjoyed the greatest meal yet at Murphy's Pub where I could barely make it half way through my shepard's pie, and we met the infamous Jerry, a local, who was not allowed to have even a sip of Jameson until after completing his meal. We laughed and swapped stories before turning in. Today we're off to Galway to start apartment and job hunting.
Love and monkey kisses!
: ) Tara
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Roy
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T, you know I love ya...
...but right now I REALLY hate you! How could you enjoying beautiful Ireland while I'm stuck here in Santa Barbara??? No fair I tell ya! Glad to see you guys having a blast...have some real Guinness for me and good luck finding a flat! Oh, and give Brian a Roaring Donkey kiss for me!