Nott What You'd Expected...

Dublin (through the bottom of a pint of Guinness)

The Emerald Isle. A shimmering beacon of emeraldy hope, radiating the underdog sense of 'devil may care' attitude and a bit of the fratboy get-crunk-or-die air that attracts millions to Dublin's bustling port on a certain day in March.
In my extenstive travel, I have yet to visit a place that seems so at ease with itself. The people are more friendly than the English, more easy going than the French, and open to tourists in a way that I'm not sure any other city has been. Maybe it's the constant oppression from England, but there is (as earlier noted) a kind of underdog, giddy younger-child feeling that lends itself to a great time...

For whatever reason- call it laziness, call it recovery- this post has been much delayed, and I'll apologize to all 23 people that read this on a bi-weekly basis. The arrival with parents and an amazing time in Dublin, along with a 300 page book due in British Novel on Tuesday means that, for the past 2 days, I've been napping and reading my ass off. Not exactly a Billy Blanks plan of action, but to each his own.

Mom and Darol arrived in the mild climate of Nottingham at 1130, beaming from an uneventful yet long flight- Mom was more than proud to show off her new denim fanny pack (i apologize to any British readers who find my use of the f word offensive... in the states, the fanny pack is a small, dorky package used to embarass youth and carry Momish things from country to country)..
A quick stop off at the Holiday Inn Express for showers and Swedish Fish transfer, lunch at Pitcher and Piano, a tour of UNotts Campus (all while wearing a sweatshirt and commenting on the amazing weather), it was great to show someone from home this place that has become my new home.... I don't think I've talked that much in months, and my voice got a well deserved rest while Mom and Darol napped in the 'fellowship hall' and dinner was prepared.

Our flight and subsequent bus to the airport caused us to wake at 330, but we made sure to hit up The Lion at night, where Darol and I discovered 6 different Real Cask Ales and Mom found a deep seeded affinity for Cider.

The highlight of flight arrived when the very foreign flight attendant Ramon warned the passangers that "ANYONE FOUND SMOKING ON THE PLANE WILL BE PERSECUTED" that is to say, instead of prosecuted. It got a hearty laugh from the travelers, considering it was 6am and all...

Dublin rose from the Irish plain like.... too poetic.... Dublin is beautiful. The weather was incredible, the air was crisp, the tourists were plentiful, and our accomodations were amazing. Looking back, it's safe to say that we had a perfectly touristy trip- full of interesting landmarks, creepy Swedish media scholars, two pub crawls, and a great brewery tour.

We checked in, aclimated ourselves to the local neighborhood with some breakfast (nothing compared to Saturday morning's FEAR FACTOR breakfast that Mom experienced.... just don't ask about the blood sausage or meaty gruel)... Deciding that the weather was too good to pass up, we opted for a walk to the Guiness factory- bad idea? Maybe a careless ramble through a major city is the best way to get a feeling of the locals... My feelings? F them. At one point, while looking for a street sign yet trying hard not to look too touristy, an angry Irishman approached me (I'll say he was drunk, just for effect and to reinforce cultural stereotypes) and screamed "YOU'RE IN FUCKING DUBLIN". I was embarassed, sad, and depressed. Mom on the other hand, readjusted her fanny pack, flattened out the map, and pressed onward.

The Guinness Factory was everything I thought it would be and more. Recently honing my taste buds, I would consider myself a very appreciative consumer of the black stuff, and my TOTAL NUMBER OF GUINNESS CONSUMED during the week (to be disclosed later) is good evidence of it....
We arrived to no line, and embarked on a Willy Wonka-esque journey through the ingrediants used, brewing process, and tasting, along with old advertising and a trip to the Gravity Bar at the top floor, with amazing views of Dublin. Not a bad way to start the weekend.
After more wandering, signing up for a musical pub crawl, and checking into the hotel, we napped. And we napped hard. In order to wake ourselves up for the Pub Crawl that night, we attempted to visit a traditional Irish Pub in Temple Bar. Having found most of them packed with the post-work crowd, we managed to find some FitzeraldFitsimmons place, where Darol and I enjoyed traditional Irish Stew and Mom got a taste of her first Fish and Chips. For those keeping track, this would be Guinness #3 (or 4?)
The pub crawl started upstairs at a famous pub in Dublin, again, one that i've forgotten the name of... This crawl, being mentioned in Rick Steves, was sold out- luckily we got some tickets. As a self concious college student, and I think I've mentioned it before, sometimes I get caught up in not looking like a tourist, or trying to assimilate as much as possible. The downside of this is, sometimes you never get a taste of the fully catered-to aspects that a tourist economy brings. Enter, the Traditional Irish Music Pub Crawl- led by two musicians, hilarious, Irish, amazingly talented and entertaining.

I had a great time, and after two pubs- (Guinness 5, 6, 7, 8), I was feeling quite Irish. Embarassingly, we were wiped tired and in bed before midnight. Not, however, before trying my first Kebab at a trashy kebab shop in Temple Bar, Momo's.... unfortunately, we had left most of our cash in the hotel safe, and only had enough on hand for two....

Saturday morning started a little late, but we were determined to suck the marrow out of the.... Irish bone? that is Dublin. We visited historical Trinity College (founded 1592 by Elizabeth) and saw the Book of Kells (thanks again, Steves)-

We headed to the tourist office in hopes of finding another possible outlet de entertainment, and were not dissapointed. A little aprehensive about a Literary Pub Crawl (geeky, but Dublin is home of such geniuses as George Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, Oscar Wylde, Seamus Heany, etc), we signed up whole heartedly.

IT was at this point that we also bought tickets to an open-air tour bus of the city, again a touristy move, but well worth it as a way to see the layout of the city, hit the high points, and get a sense of what Dublin looks like from 15 feet in the air...

Again tired and put off by the sight of little kids picketting the Post Office building on the main strip for some kind of abortion thing (maybe it was just me...), we ate at Pacino's an Italian place (NO GUINNESS ALLOWED), we headed back for another quick nap and a chance to watch some Rugby (6 Nations currently going on) between Ireland and Scotland on the hotel TV... (Most pubs were overflowing with supporters, in kilts at times)
Waking a little late for dinner, we made our way to The Duke for some literary excitement. Once there, we Guinnesed (9,10) and met some interesting people. A dad and his son, an NYPD officer in the bronx, and Sven, the pushy, nosey Swedish college professor (look for his paper this summer) who was in town for a conference and recognized us from last night's music crawl)
Apprehension gave way to a bit of surprise, as the room filled with college-aged students and literary buffs, and the two actors leading the crawl began acting out scenes from famous plays and reinacting scenes from novels- We walked to Trinity College and they played scenes from Importance of Being Earnest under the campanile, and I felt very literary.

Along the way, a few of the crawlers became a bit jumpy at idea of winning a tshirt as a result of a post-crawl literary quiz, and went so far as to conspire about how easy it would be to shrink the 100% cotton XL shirt, and began to work out a wearing schedule by which both losers could share in the excitement. Fortunately, they lost. Darol and I died laughing. Maybe it was the Guinness.
We visited three pubs, including one in which Chpt 7 of Joyce's Ulysses is set. The literary history here was immense, and hard to imagine (especially in pubs that had been so restored that most people were watching the Barcelona match on a flatscreen), but the closeness and connectivity was still pretty evident.

(Guinness 11, 12, 13, 14... 15?)
We ended the night at Davey Byrnes, where Sven again made an appearence. Through goggles and 3 trips to the bathroom, we collectively disscussed Globalization, Amercianization, AL GORE, and Swedish politics. Or was he from Iceland? Same thing.
Needing some food, we hit up the Wine Bar in the basement of our ritzy hotel (did I mention Martin Sheen stayed there? crazy). It was a bit classy for three post-pub crawlers, no matter the subject of the crawl. We had tapas, steak, and a classy glass of wine.... which i immediately regretted at 4 the next morning.

The flight home was 20 minutes fast thanks to some tailwinds, and I was back in the flat by 11.
The flat, despite my hopes, had survived without me, but it was good to be home. I immediately took a 4 hour nap and gave up on Spring break planning.

As I type, Mom and Darol are jetsetting or training their way from Paris to Munich, and I'm planning my arrival in London to hang out with them (along with certain Urbandale and Drake friends) this weekend.

In the meantime, Spring must be planned. And naps must be taken. The guys just hit up Big Wok, the new all-you-can eat place in Notts, and my GI tract is not agreeing with me.

posted by Kevin @ 10:31 AM