Dublin Part 2

 

Sunday, 5/7/23, and the highlight of my trip, the reason I had booked this hotel, in this city, for this time was to see my favorite band, Duran Duran.  Their tour will take them to the US soon and since I won’t be there for that, this was the only date where our schedules would line up.

They put on a great show even with the weird set list and the different energy from an Irish audience.  I’ve always referred to them as The Boys, but this concert just reminded me that they’re sexy old men now.  At one point, 64-year-old Simon LeBon climbed the staircase on the stage and I thought to myself “don’t you jump off that thing like you did 40 years ago – you’re gonna break a hip.”  All said in love, though.  I realize I’m no spring chicken myself (so many gray hairs!).  But as long as The Boys keep touring, I’ll keep buying tickets.  That’s the pact we made back in the eighties and that’s how it’ll be until one of us is dead.  Durannie for life.

Walking out of the venue, I noticed something.  I don’t even think the arena has a parking lot.  It’s expected that everyone will either walk or take the bus or tram to the venue.  There were lanes set up upon our exit that shepherded us directly to a line of buses or the tram.  It took me a while to even get out of the line since I needed no public transport as (ha ha!) my hotel was next door.  I wondered about the noise level – mine was only one of the hotels and residences in the area.  There was a Post Malone concert a few days after mine and I heard nothing from the venue.  No noise, no vibrations, just nothing.  The only noise I heard was later in the evening when the show let out and everyone was leaving.  That is amazing.  The entire setup is a true testament to good city planning.

The next day, I decided to go to Cork.  Taking the tram to the train made it insanely easy.  I was happy to see some of the countryside (so many cows and sheep!).  Two and half hours later, we arrived at the train’s final destination.  Though Cork is home to the Blarney Stone and a couple of castles, I spent my time just wandering around the city central.  It’s like a mini-Dublin in that it has a river going down the middle of it and a has a lively restaurant/shopping district.

Arriving back in Dublin, I stopped off in the city central for a meal before heading back to the hotel.  I chose a place across the river based on the loud Irish singing coming from inside and the menu that touted authentic Irish fair.  

I ordered brown bread (heavy, cold, and kinda tasteless even with butter), and a Sheppard’s pie (which was delicious).  And no, I didn’t have a Guinness to go with it.  I know it’s just natural to order one while in a place like this.  But after two long train rides (and delays on the one coming back), I really just wanted a glass of white wine.  (Actually, I wanted a glass of vinho verde but since I wasn’t in Portugal to have it, I settled for some Pinot Grigio.) I was in a great position to watch the bartender pour out multiple glasses of the thick brown beer and got to thinking.  If I ordered one, not being a beer drinker, and didn’t like it, I’d end up pissing off the loads of American tourists and drunken Irish people in the room.  Not really in the mood to start an international incident.

My last full day in Dublin was dull, but necessary.  Despite my use of public transport, I had done way too much walking in both Dublin and Cork and my feet were done.  I needed a rest, as much as I didn’t want to admit it.  But I reminded myself that in my current job as permanent tourist, there are no weekends or planned downtime.  You gotta take it when you need it.  I spent the day doing my laundry and writing.  And it was a good, productive day.

My plan from the beginning was to spend a month in Portugal, a month in Greece, a month in the British Isles and then head back to the U.S. to refill my prescriptions, get my mail, and visit my storage facility.  The first two stops went well (if not entirely smoothly), but I couldn’t stay in the U.K. as long as I would have liked because everywhere was too dang expensive.  I wasn’t going to miss out on Dublin, but staying any longer would have eaten up way too much of my travel budget.  Look at it this way; I spent less for three weeks in Greece than for my one week at Beckett Locke.  And of course, after Dublin …

I woke up on travel day, 5/10/23, and had a full-blown temper tantrum.  There was cursing and slamming things around.  It wasn’t pretty.

I do not want to leave Dublin.

I do not want to get on a long plane ride.

I do not want to return to the states.

I was quite happy in my little apartment at Beckett Locke with all its amenities and easy access to transport. There was still so much to do, even though I really needed that day of rest.  Dublin, since the plane ride from Athens, had gotten my creative juices flowing and that’s exactly what I’d hoped to do on this travel journey.  I still can’t believe the week zoomed by so quickly.  Had I planned things out a bit better (or at all), I could have truly maximized my time there.  But I have to be spontaneous …

I sent a WhatsApp to the front desk to call me a cab and before I could blink, it had arrived.  The cabbie was a nice man who started up a conversation.  He asked me what I had seen in the country and how long I’d been there, instantly making me feel guilty for coming to his country and not having a beer.  Before the ride was over, he’d given me multiple suggestions about my next visit to Ireland and I’d told him about all the places I’d been in the last couple of months.  We both agreed that Dublin was too expensive and that Athens was a s%^$hole (his word).  He got me to the airport and hoped I’d return.  Me too, pal.  Me too.

Thus ends the first leg of my European Tour.  Wow, it has been a wild ride.  I will never get over the view from my last place in Funchal.  Never forgetting that bird in Mykonos.  I’m so grateful to have met the three Marias (Funchal, Naxos, and Santorini) and the lovely Valentina in Mykonos.  I do hope you have enjoyed reading about it.  

This next leg is still a mystery even to me.  Can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Dublin Part 1

There’s something to be said for spontaneity.  And sometimes being spontaneous just bites you in the ass.

On to Dublin, Ireland, a city and country I’ve wanted to visit for years.  Like with Greece, I’d bought the calendars featuring the rolling green countryside and dreamed of roaming the land myself.  I’d tried to plan trips in the past, but something would always happen to ruin things.  The first trip I planned got derailed because of a car issue.  The second time, my HVAC system blew up right in front of my eyes (that was a pricey one).  Well, now I got no car and no house.  Time to do this thing.

It’s a 4 ½ hour trip from Athens to Dublin, yet somehow it was still too long.  I think I was just ready to be done with Greece and move on.  The beauty part is that the plane ride only cost 140 euros and I got to listen to the pretty (if sometimes incomprehensible) Irish accents of Aer Lingus.

Beckett Locke, my home for the week, is a strange hotel/dorm hybrid located near the river Laffey.  It’s seven floors of rooms, each equipped with a nice sized bathroom and a small, kitchen stocked with utensils, a washer/dryer combo and dishwasher.  I chose this place 1) because as outrageously expensive as it was, it was still less expensive than some of the other places I’d seen and 2) because Expedia had it located close to 3Arena, a concert venue.  And they weren’t kidding.  The hotel is right next door.  I was shocked.  More on that later.

What I didn’t realize until I arrived is that it’s also a co-working center with lots of amenities.  There’s a full gym, a coffee bar and restaurant in the building (closed during my stay).  My room had a yoga mat in it and the giant swiveling TV touted all the activities the hotel offered.  It would make for a kickass dorm room or a way too small apartment, but for me, it was a pretty sweet hotel room. The only thing I found out-of-place were the grubby looking ceilings.  They were covered with exposed pipes and lighting that made me think the building had been an industrial space that was converted into apartments.

There is a tram just to the right of the building.  I only noticed the tracks on my first day as I searched for a 3-prong adapter for my computer.  The one I’d been using was only for the EU and the UK just has to be special.  There were no trams in sight as I crossed over them to get to the little convenience store.  The desk clerk told me they’d have the adapter but, alas, they didn’t.  The only other places in immediate walking distance were a few restaurants and a hotel.  So, my mission for my first full day was clear.

I looked up the closest electronics store that carried the adapter (Currys in the Jervis Shopping Centre) and promptly got on the good foot as soon as I woke up. Dublin is full of gorgeous architecture and lots of construction.   It feels clean, progressive, and full of life.  I don’t know if it’s because I was located near a college campus or what, but there are a lot of young people here.   They’re zipping around on scooters or the electric bikes that are available all over town to rent.   

It was only later did I realize that the tram that terminates right outside my hotel could have dropped me off at the Jervis Shopping Centre in less than ten minutes, saving me twenty minutes and some wear and tear on my feet.  At least I got my bearings on where everything was located.

Like coffee shops in Portugal, you can’t throw a stick without hitting a pub in Dublin.  There are hawkers out front giving out menus, musicians everywhere, both in the streets and in the pubs, and plenty of choices for real Irish fare.  So, of course, my first meal in the historic pub district was at the Hard Rock Café.  What can I say?  I’m obsessed with proving where I’ve been with my t-shirt choices.  The waiter gave me suggestions on where to visit, such as this little museum or a trip to the shore as it was a lovely day.  I stuck to wandering around aimlessly.  Still really good at that.

I hit the Dublinia museum which houses very immersive history of the Vikings settling Ireland.  There was so much to see in there that I’m sure I missed at least half of it.  The museum is surrounded by historical buildings, churches, and a really nice park. 

I finally figured out the tram system after a day or so.  At least, I thought I had.  I'd bought a ticket and was standing by the scanner next to the tram trying to figure out how it worked.  Sensing my clueless tourist vibe, a lovely Irish man got off the tram to help me.  He explained that having the ticket on me was enough and there was no need to scan it (that was only necessary for the hard tram cards, not my 7-day paper ticket).  There would occasionally be someone on the tram to check the tickets, but otherwise I was good to go.  Thank you, kind sir.

I was surprised by how much Gaelic is spoken in the city.  I don't know why, but I thought the language was more traditional than a living language.  Even the signage is in both English and Gaelic.  Everyone speaks English, but it was interesting to hear them speaking Gaelic to each other.

Guinness rules everything here.  Not only can you go to the bottling facility to take a tour, but the marketing is everywhere.  So is the beer as it is not just a draw for tourists but a big favorite of the locals.  I stopped by a tiny café run by Asians that advertised a full Irish breakfast.  The place was insanely popular – the staff didn’t even have time to clear a table before someone else was sitting down.  They served good food for a decent price and yes, you could get your breakfast with an Irish coffee or a half-pint of Guinness.

Just a note about my breakfast at that café.  As I was eating, a group of six guys, probably in their twenties, all came in together.  The place was small, as I mentioned, so they couldn’t sit together, but it didn’t matter.  They were a bunch of mates meeting for a meal.  Then two more of their friends came in to join them.  I didn’t know how they knew each other or if this was a regular thing for them.  What struck me was their ability to gather so many people in one place.  I had a friend who lived in another state and I could never get her to come to Atlanta for a weekend (I had a friend).  How do you get eight guys to drag themselves out of bed, remember the café and the time, and stumble in for some bacon and fellowship?  Who has seven friends in this day and age?  The whole thing was fascinating to me.