No Sheep? No problem.

Monday morning, we woke up bright (well, gray) and early to leave London and catch our Ryanair flight to Dublin. Ryanair is basically the Southwest of Europe. You board like old Southwest way – a cattle call to find the best available seats. Hey, who can blame us? Our tickets were about $100 for both of us. Anyway, the hour and a fifteen minute flight flew by and before we knew it, we were in Ireland.

The Brazen Head. The oldest pub in Ireland. Founded in 1198.

We made our way by cab (with the world’s oldest cabdriver) to our hotel – which we both had concerns about. Obviously, we had never seen it in person, and the hotel’s site make it look glamorous. Again, we got this on the cheap. Turns out, it’s actually pretty good. We have a 2BR apartment with a washer/dryer, kitchen, dining area, living room and balcony that looks toward a church built in the 11th century.

At any rate, we dropped our stuff off and headed a half kilometer down the street toward Temple Bar, per Kyle’s recommendations. Walking down the street, people said hello and smiled at us – a stark contrast from London. Even our waitress was nice – then we found out she was three weeks in from Slovakia. No difference. The lesson here is that Irish people are much nicer than English people.

Gallagher's Boxty House. Freakin' delicious.

We walked around a bit. Monday was Scott’s day to be grumpy. He complained about his feet and back hurting to no end.

We saw the famous Molly Malone statue, with her heaving breasts and cart full of shellfish.

She wheeled her wheelbarrow, through streets broad and narrow...

...singing "Cockels and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

Again, per Kyle’s recommendation, we made our way by train to Dun Laoghaire to see rolling green hills and sheep. I think there may have been some miscommunication on our part – we didn’t see any green or sheep. In fact, this is the only green we saw.


Coming back into Dublin, we went down to Temple Bar to find an authentic Irish pub for dinner. We ended up eating dinner at some pseudo-Italian place in an alley. All the while, an entire row of Irish bars made up the next street over. Oh well, live and learn.

After dinner, we settled on a bar with real Irish music. It was packed. It was fantastic. People were clapping and singing and even dancing to the music played by two old Irish chaps. Again, fantastic.

This morning (Tuesday), we went back to Temple Bar to explore more of the city.

Taking a break from Guinness to salute my good friend, Eileen, with a half-pint of Murphy's.

We walked down Grafton Street toward St. Stephen's Green, a beautiful (and crowded) park smack dab in the middle of the city.

Grafton Street at midday.

St. Stephen's Green

St. Stephen's Green

Then we walked to take a tour of the Guinness factory. This was definitely one of my favorite things. Guinness = deliciousness.

Outside the gate at St. James's. Yes, James's is how it's spelled.

There was a whole section dedicated to Guinness advertising through the years.

Slainte!

"I love Guinness. And grandpa sweaters."

We ended the evening with dinner and drinks in Temple Bar.

Sorry this is short and sweet - but I need to hit the hay.

Slainte!

Scott and I enjoying our last pints of Guinness on this trip.

Short video of the music we've heard the last two nights.