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Published: October 20th 2008
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Ireland may not have taken gold in the recent Olympics, but they’ve since become the first of the European countries to declare a recession, have pledged €400 billion to the bank bail-out and turnip sales are up 75%. Yep, that’s right, you heard it here first (well second if you read the Daily Mail) - turnips - recession gourmet! The Celtic Tiger, as the Irish economic boom was affectionately known, is officially dead. Whilst I’ve landed on the Emerald Isle in possibly the worst time since the potato famine to find employment, the local peculiarities and the fabulous humour of the people here continues to put a smile on my face. I know I’m feeling at home here because I find myself talking to random strangers about the weather and singing along to ‘Galway Girl’ at closing time!
One of the first things you need to learn in Dublin is how to get around. Dublin Bus Company runs double decker buses, single decker buses, night buses, airport buses, the works. Onboard you pay with a pre-paid ticket or coins in a coin slot beside the driver - any assortment of coins seems to work. But, whatever you do, don’t put
Gotye
@ the Sugar Club, Dublin a note in there I discovered when catching the night bus home one night. The driver and I tried for ages to fish out the rogue fiver I’d unwittingly dropped in there. People here are all very polite and everyone thanks the driver when they get off too - which is all very friendly and charitable. Especially when the driver has stopped so suddenly you tumbled down the stairs knocking over three old ladies with walking sticks. The LUAS (tram) is the other mode of transport …”ahh but it’s mighty expensive … they could have put a man on the moon for less!”
There’s a big problem with street fundraisers in Dublin. Everywhere you go, people wearing stupid vests that look like oversized netball bibs, chase you with buckets asking for money for different charities. On all the job websites a company Face2Face advertises for these menaces and it’s something I’ve resolved I’ll never do. So dignity intact and wallet empty, I’m accosted daily - on Grafton Street it's for Focus Ireland, outside Clery’s on O’Connell Street it's for Oxfam and outside Croke Park it’s for some charity hike for cancer and for ‘Mandy’s leg’. I was going to
Ford Reunion
Me & Penny, Bailey's Corner, Tralee suggest Mandy was not the only person getting around legless after the hurling final, but thought this might have been uncharitable!
Irish Green legislation appears to be streets ahead of their neighbours in the UK. Like Australia, the green bag or derivative there-of is hot - well it has to be, because there’s a €0.22 tax/charge in place for plastic bags. Accordingly, clothing shops, book shops and pretty much all retail outlets sell their wares in lovely paper bags with pretty handles. The only shortcoming is that the paper versions completely disintegrate at the first sign of a downpour, which as you might gather is not uncommon in these parts!
It wasn’t long before I took advantage of living in Ryanair’s backyard and hit Quesada on Spain’s Costa Blanca for a long weekend to celebrate my friend Sarah’s birthday. As luck would have it, her brother Owen runs an Irish bar called Shenanigans in Quesada. Despite a slight hitch (that believe-it-or-not wasn’t Ryanair’s fault) which saw me arriving in Spain an entire day late - it was a spectacularly fun weekend. The weather was sadly pitiful, but who’s to complain with two birthday celebrations (Sarah’s and Owen’s), a
night out in Alicante, a pub quiz, Argentinean steak and free accommodation at Chateau Shenanigans (thanks boys)?! I returned to Ireland, sunburnt like a proper Irish, from the two hours of sunshine we enjoyed, only to find myself in some kind of Dublin Monsoon.
When in Ireland an ‘Irish Bar’ is just a ‘bar’ - the Irish bit becomes obsolete. A night out on the town in Dublin is to expect the unexpected. I also learnt the hard way that Coppers (aka Copper Face Jacks) is the dodgiest club in Dublin. Like a goldfish I went back and confirmed it was true! A couple of weeks back I went to the Sugar Club to see Aussie musician Wally De Bacca (aka
Gotye ) perform. Anyway, to cut a long story short we went to the same primary school, Wally was in Katie's class. I bump into him at the bar when the support act is on and tell him I'm Katie Maynes' sister. His face lights up! Then on stage he did a 'shout out' to me. He asked who in the audience went to Saint Francis Xavier in Monty - so of course I put my hand up and
Always good to know the publican
Conor & Pete, Bailey's Corner, Tralee he gives me a wave! All the girls in the room were shooting me daggers. Brilliant!
Ireland is a great country for road trips. Two weeks ago, I found myself on a road trip down to Kerry to see Skellig Michael with Penny, a girl I used to work with at Ford and friends. As luck would have it, I know a guy whose family have a bar in town - so we all rock into Bailey’s Corner, Tralee and catch up with Conor, an old travel buddy of mine. A round of beers is on the house and there’s good craic all around. Of course there are no boats going out to Skellig Michael (unclear whether that’s due to a case of bad weather or bad hangover for the boat man) so we roll out of bed late and into the Dingle Peninsula Food and Wine Festival. Dingle is famous for it's resident dolphin Fungie, who that day proves as elusive as Nessie. The weather is bucketing as we drive back to Tralee, via the South Pole Inn, Annascaul - an atmospheric pub formerly owned by Tom Crean - one of the survivers of the Shackleton Antarctic adventure.
Slainte!
Vincenzo, Pete & me - Bailey's Corner, Tralee Back in Tralee there’s yet another cracking night on the town - I never did get around to telling Conor my travel stories! The following day, we drive back to Dublin with a quick detour for part of the Ring of Kerry and Ross Castle. We got lost and asked a farmer for directions and discovered he couldn’t speak English. The Kerry tourist brochure did promise - “Indoors or out, there’s never a dull moment in the Kingdom of Kerry”! Tick!
But, it hasn’t all been pints and jaffa cakes here in Ireland. Commencing work, albeit temp work, has introduced a (slight) element of stress into my simple existence. I think I’ve fairly well mastered interpretation of the Irish accent face-to-face, but the phone poses an entirely new challenge - much to the amusement of work colleagues. Once again donning corporate attire made me want to vomit, however, it has been worth it, not just for the cash flow and definitely not for the monotony of the ‘Home and Away’ gossip at the water cooler, but to once again experience the pure joy of that ‘Friday feeling’, oh and next weekend there's a bank holiday!
Slainte, pronounced ‘slawn-cha’,
that’s cheers!
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emma
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you go girl!!!
i absolutely love your blogs, living in argentina, you keep me in touch with whats goin on in my little ireland!!! v witty too! glad to see youre takin it all in....have you graced mulligans yet with yer presence???!!!!take care chica xxx