Western European Adventures: Ireland

Folks, welcome back for Part 2 in this four part series recounting my semester break shenanigans outside of Turkey.

When we last left our heroine, she had spent her last night in Edinburgh, Scotland. Well, that morning she woke up extremely early to eat breakfast, take a shower, pack her bag, and walk all the way to the bridge where the Airlink bus to the airport would pick her up. The ride itself was just like that on any other airport shuttle, though there did come a point when the bus had to stop because a truck full of snacks (or so one would deduce from reading the side of said truck) was backing into a tiny space and completely blocking the road. But, all in all, not that exciting. Especially not at 6:00 a.m.

Despite my fears of flying with RyanAir, due to their notoriously stingy hand luggage policies, I did not have anyone contest the size or weight of my carry-on bag. That was awesome, though I did end up with jacket pockets stuffed full of knick-knacks for no apparent reason...I tried to surreptitiously place said knick-knacks (netbook cord, phone charger, batteries, hand wipes, phone, smartphone, etc.) back into my carry-on while waiting to board the plane. No one seemed to notice.

As flights go, it was relatively peaceful. I'm pretty sure I slept the whole time, in fact. However, whenever I awoke, it was always to the whistling of the guy sitting across the aisle, who appeared to have no regard for those around him. He whistled the same, annoying, chipper five notes every five minutes, and this did not cease until we finally landed in Dublin and I raced ahead of him and his wife to avoid getting caught in the passport control line with them. Speaking of passport control, they asked me all the standard questions (Did you bring me anything to eat? Has anyone ever told you that you're a giant? Why does your accent sound Midwestern instead of Southern?) and then stamped my passport (I love collecting passport stamps), granting me admission to the Republic of Ireland!

Ireland is home to Helen Bradshaw, one of my good friends in the class ahead of me from my time at SBC. Helen was also my First Year Advisor/RA when I was a freshman. We share a love of Harry Potter and all things YA literature in addition to a lot of other things. Helen is awesome, and I was pumped to see her for the first time since her graduation.

Despite my expectations, no one came running up to play "Rocky Road to Dublin" for me as I bought my ticket for the Airlink bus, but I tried not to let it get to me. I sat near some very chatty British guys on the top deck of the bus and entertained myself by eavesdropping until we reached Dublin proper and I got off with my really purple suitcase and the beginnings of a plan.

The first thing I needed to do was store my luggage somewhere. I would be meeting Helen on a train platform later, so I needed to ditch the suitcase in order to take advantage of a day of Dublin exploring. I got off of the Airlink near Connelly train station...but they did not have any luggage lockers. I had read somewhere online that the nearby bus station had lockers, but the building that I thought was the bus station (pretty sure that it actually was, but I never found out for sure) didn't look enough like the major bus terminal in Dublin for me to do more than peek in the windows...and I didn't see any lockers. (I guess I've been spoiled by the Turkish intercity bus system and expect all big bus stations to look similar.)

Fortunately, Helen had sent me a message about an internet cafe on O'Connell Street that did luggage storage by the day. My challenge now was to find O'Connell Street.

Here's the thing about Dublin: if you've never been there, trying to get your bearings can be...well...a bear.

Streets in Dublin turn into differently-named streets without much notice, and the map that I had put on my Kindle the night before and was consulting happened to be quite zoomed out, so many of the little backstreets that I would have found helpful were unlabeled or else labeled in tiny print that even an ant couldn't read. So, after wandering about, purple suitcase in tow and feeling rather silly, I did what people since ancient times have done...I found the river.

According to the map, O'Connell Street turned into O'Connell Bridge, which crossed the river that runs through Dublin (old European city...on a river...now where have I seen that before...oh, wait...everywhere...). So, once I found the river and found signs labeling different bridges, I was finally rewarded with O'Connell Bridge and, consequently, O'Connell Street. After a brief walk down what is apparently Dublin's most famous shopping street (the post office where revolutionary activities began before Irish independence is located on O'Connell, as well), I spotted the internet cafe that Helen had mentioned and, suddenly all "seasoned traveler," confidently dropped off my little purple friend.

My next challenge was to find City Hall. SANDEMANs New Europe Tours has a free walking tour of Dublin, and since I had enjoyed the Edinburgh one so much, I was determined to take advantage of it. The tour meets in front of City Hall before leaving at 11:00 (another also leaves at 1:00), so, seeing as it was around 9:30, I set off to find it with what, I assumed, was plenty of time to spare.

Hahahahahahahahaha!

Sorry about that. I was just remembering how wrong I would turn out to be. BUT, it was all for the best, so don't worry. Stay with me.

To make a long story short, I wandered around Dublin for roughly two hours, following street signs that insisted City Hall was one way, only to run into one five blocks later that said it was back the way I came. I went North, then South, but never, apparently, for the right amount of time, until I ended up right back where I had started, my hip flexer and right knee absolutely killing me, and resolved that, rather than bursting into a puddle of tears, I was going to get a sandwich and giant white mocha at the Starbucks on the corner. So I did. Then I sat in a relatively quiet corner to collect myself.

My frustrated reveries were interrupted by a call from my mom on my international phone. I answered and related the situation to her, including my great disappointment that the things I needed most for the SANDEMANs tour--my legs--were giving me a really hard time. She suggested that perhaps I should consider a bus tour of the city. Yes, it would be a much different experience from Edinburgh, but I wouldn't have to carry myself around for the three and a half hour tour, and I could hop off and hop right back on whenever I wanted. She did a little bit of quick research and located Dublin Bus Tours, which was also one of the tours listed (and recommended) by Rick Steves: http://www.dublinsightseeing.ie/cityTour.aspx. Though hesitant to change up my plans so drastically/to be so...touristy....I went for it. GLAD I DID!

The big tourist information office for Dublin (there are some independent, smaller ones, too, but this one's the main one) was just across the street and down a little lane, so I popped in, bought my ticket (yeah, I'm still a "student" since I'm under 24, so I got a little bit of a discount, AND the ticket is good for 48 hours...so I could use the bus for two days!), and waited for the bus at the stop outside.

I stayed on the bus until the last stop (Stop 23, back on Upper O'Connell Street, if you can believe it) and then hopped on a brand new bus heading out in order to complete my circuit. Along the route, I saw many locations that I realized that I would have been unable to visit on foot--such at the Guinness Storehouse and Kilmainham Gaol--and was excited that I had definitely made the right tour choice. I had transportation! Plus, my first tour guide started singing "The Wild Rover" and I started singing along under my breath...I suddenly felt like I was actually in Ireland!

Because I was by myself and because it was early afternoon at this point, I opted to hop off for my first attraction visit at the Guinness Storehouse. That place is intense. You follow a self-guided tour through this cool section about how beer is made, and you eventually get to sample the finished product, look at old Guinness advertisements, and even learn about how Guinness has been transported over time.

Guinness bottles through the years

Awesome Guinness adverts

The famous 9000 year lease. (Yes, for 9000 years!)

Statue.

I made this big so you could read it. You can thank me later.

The book where Arthur Guinness records his intention to brew porter...

Hops.

And, best of all, at the end of the storehouse tour, you get to head up to Skybar, on the top floor, where they have 360 degree views of Dublin AND give you a complimentary pint of Guinness. Heck yes.

As I had no one to share my Guinness day with (admittedly, this was one of the things I did during my vacation that just would have been better with a person to share it with...especially if that person was my dad. Yes, Dad, I did smell at one point that awful stench that comes with brewing beer that drives Mom, Sam, and me out of the house...but it just made me miss you. It wasn't that awful because it reminded me of you.), I sat down in one of the chairs and whipped out my Kindle to read some Sherlock Holmes as I sipped away my pint.

Skybar

My pint, posing in front of Dublin

Pint finished (eventually...it would have been better with a sandwich or something, considering it was 3:00 in the afternoon), I took the elevator back to the ground floor, perused the gift shop for a bit (bought nothing; I was freaked out enough by the TL to Euro exchange rate to stop myself from buying anything that I could not ingest for most of the trip...), and then waited in some CRAZY wind for a bus to come by.

I rode the tour to the end of the line again, and by the time it finished, it was time for me to grab my suitcase and head to the train station, where I caught a train headed out to Bray, the coastal town about an hour south of Dublin where Helen lives. I got off, however, at the Dun Laoghaire (pronounced "dun low-ry") platform, which is where Helen had said she would meet me. I love how old-timey our rendezvous was, since we didn't have each others' phone numbers at the time...we met on the platform!

The meeting was a success, and then we hopped on the train for Bray. Helen and I spent the next few days catching up about everything from her new Masters degree and the publishing industry that she wants to (AND WILL!) work in to Ireland itself and joys and trials of living abroad.

The next morning Helen had to work, so I set back into Dublin on my own to do a few more "must-see" things before retiring to Bray for the weekend.

My first stop was Trinity College, home to the Book of Kells. The Book of Kells is the world's most amazing illuminated manuscript, and seeing it in person has been a lifelong dream ever since my Aunt Carol and Uncle Robert brought me back a Book of Kells coloring book from their own Irish travels. I'm also a huge fan of Iona (an amazing music group--look them up!) and their album inspired by and about the Book, aptly titled "The Book of Kells." That's music I listened to while reading The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan...just to give you an idea of how epic and magical it is.

Main entrance to the College

Inside, College buildings

The Library...where they keep IT

There's a great exhibit before you get to actually see the Book of Kells, and that's where you spend most of your time...well, there and the gift shop. In the gift shop I simply couldn't resist and bought myself a little booklet of calendar bookmarks with Book of Kells images...it was 1 Euro. I ain't no big spender.

My next stop was along the main thoroughfare of Dame Street: a little tea shop/cafe called Queen of Tarts. There I enjoyed a delicious ham and cheese sandwich on foccacia and purchased a scone for takeaway, which I munched once I hopped back onto a Dublin Bus Tours bus.

My next stop was Kilmainham Gaol (that's "jail"). The gaol is famous for the roles it has played in a number of films (the original Italian Job, for example) and the number of famous people it incarcerated during different revolutionary periods in Ireland's history. Without the bus tour, it would have been very difficult to make it to the gaol since it's out of the way of the city center, but I was fortunate to have no problem in arriving. Helen had recommended the gaol as the other thing, besides the Book of Kells, that I simply HAD to see in Dublin. So I joined up with one of the hourly guided tours (the only way you can see the gaol) and we got going. My super amazing tour guide (yeah, I didn't have one dud tour guide in my entire vacation) talked about the gaol like he was giving a history lecture (academic speak and all), and while his commentary may have rocked some of the tourists to sleep, I absolutely drank it in. He was also really nice.

That's him!

The gaol's Catholic chapel

Inside the main cell block

Another view

The woman behind the tour guide was cold...he made her take his jacket.

They used to execute prisoners in this yard

The gaol excursion was sobering but incredibly informative, and afterward I hopped back on the bus to see the rest of the tour's circuit for something like the fourth time. And, since rush hour would begin soon, I opted to head it off with a slightly earlier train back to Bray.

That night, after making Old El Paso tacos (I KNOW!) Helen and I went bowling (yes, bowling) with her boyfriend and a couple of his friends. They were pretty good. I however, was ON FIRE! My left leg and right arm got really tired and were pretty sore for a few days after that, but I bowled incredibly. Luck of the Irish, I guess...and the fact that I didn't have to wear bowling shoes. Honestly, they should have made all of us wear bowling shoes, just for the sake of the girls trying to "bowl" in five inch high stiletto heels. Yeah, I know.

After bowling we went to the shore and had some beers and good conversation in a local pub, staying up way too late. Before heading back to Helen's to turn in, though, we snagged bacon cheeseburgers at a local joint that's open until 3:00 AM. YUM!

The next morning...nothing happened. Because we didn't wake up until after noon. Eh heh. But we did have a nice, relaxing Saturday that was a great change of pace after my racing about Edinburgh and Dublin. At one point we took a walk at the shore and that evening Helen's boyfriend joined us for movies and pizza. I had to get to bed at a decent hour, considering that I had another early morning of travel ahead of me, but I was all too happy to snuggle up with Helen's hot water bottle in my nest of blankets on the floor of her sitting room...mostly because I love that hot water bottle.

To find out what happened the next morning as I made the transition to London, England, tune in next time! Until then, a very happy Valentine's Day to you and yours from Turkey, where I haven't seen a single Valentine's decoration. Sometimes I feel like I live in a time capsule.