Dublin, recapped

Well, I’m sorry to report that I was a bit underwhelmed by Dublin…I didn’t really see the wow factor of it. It just seemed like a smaller and more industrial version of London. Plus, most of the Irish men I came across were just smarmy. But we’ll get to that.

The weekend started out well enough: arriving at the airport and discovering that my flight was delayed 30 minutes, I decided to indulge my uber-dieting self in a “real” meal and ate before security at a chain sit-down restaurant…there didn’t seem to be much after security and it seemed like I had plenty of time. Fast forward to the end of my (mediocre) meal and after horrifically slow service, I had to beg for the bill and nearly left my (very valuable) thermal raincoat at my table in my hurry to leave…it seemed like I was about to miss my flight.

Well, lol, getting through security took about 4.5 minutes, I rang my travel companion back, who’d called during my earlier rush, and she then proceeded to tell me about our shared hotel room. She’d been on an earlier flight and so was already in Dublin.

You see, exactly one week earlier, after we’d been separately realising that our hotel options were far and few between, due to a big Ireland/Wales rugby game the weekend of our trip, we got on the phone and basically just picked a place. Just because they had a room and weren’t crazily expensive. But also because Google Maps told us it was just off Temple Bar.

So, back to her description: Google Maps lied to us…I should’ve known better than to believe them, because they’re a bit just plain wrong with their UK maps, I’ve been steered wrong many times, but oh well…back to the description:

“Um, well, it’s far. And the bed is. Small. I mean, it’s ok. It’s just uh, well, hey, at least we get to go to Dublin!”

Oh dear.

But I did have to agree, nothing to be done at that point, it’s a quick weekend in Dublin, it’ll be fun. I made plans to catch up with her and the two friends of hers we were meeting, when I landed and had gotten settled and with that, I hung up to go to my gate.

The flight finally took off quite awhile after that, so my neurosis at the restaurant was all for naught…and I was at least appeased by the incredibly good-looking gentleman in the seat next to me. But then, somewhere high in the sky, I dropped a Euro under my (window) seat and after several silent attempts to reach it, had given up. But my (Irish) seatmate had apparently noted my crisis and, after asking the lady in the aisle seat to get up, he climbed under all of our seats, fetched my Euro and handed it to me.

With a thankful – and probably amused – smile, I thanked him, and we chatted briefly…he asked where my accent was from, etc. I thanked him again as we deplaned and we parted ways, with me a little goofily bummed that he didn’t ask for my number. In retrospect, I’ve decided to allow that he really was a gentleman. But I was soon to be met with smarm.

I set off to get myself to Dublin centre…directions, of course, being my general downfall. Another good-looking guy flirted with me while I was getting a cookie before leaving the airport. It wasn’t as endearing as the Euro guy, but it wasn’t unpleasant either and I started to feel a bit egotistical. All these guys were flirting with me, how awesome am I? ;) Right, moving right along.

I arrived to the hotel without getting lost much, a move I’m rather proud of, and in a half smirk/half sigh at actual sight of the hotel room, dumped my stuff and set out to find the bar where my friend was by this time…and with “this time” being nearly midnight, I quite fancied a drink of some sort.

I did get mildly lost, but found it and tried to find her. Sadly, smarmy Irish guy #1 found me before I found my friend. Despite my rather blatant attempts to lose him, he persisted and I was eventually saved by the appearance of my friend. Small miracles. Smarmy Guy #1 wasn’t unattractive, there’s just something gross and unattractive about being leeched onto by a random guy the moment you’re by yourself. I didn’t go to Dublin to meet a guy and certainly not one in a bar.

But sadly, my glee was short-lived. Following my friend to our table, I noted four people, not the two I was expecting. It seems Smarmy guys #2 and #3 had latched onto our little group. This despite the fact that one of the four of us was a (straight) guy. At least I soon discovered that the two friends of my friend were very nice and quite fun.

But, my arrival seemed to signify “new meat” to the smarmies and after again trying my “I’m not interested, I’m not the type to meet guys in bars” routine, Smarmy Guy #3 came right out and asked me if I was looking to meet someone. Ugh. Ok, switching gears, I pretended to be in a relationship and shortly thereafter, they seemed to give up on their 3 female targets and left us. Small miracles. I was no longer flattered or happy with the “flirting,” it was getting a bit depressing. Smarmy Guy #2 was actually quite good-looking...and not overtly smarmy, he was actually quite sweet and we chatted for awhile. But at the point, I was tired and cynical, so I'm calling him smarmy :P

So, free at last, I proceeded to have my very first tequila shot, with what I’m told was cheap tequila. Whatever, it was gross. But what I’m surprised I loved was a Jameson and ginger ale, of which I had several ;) Whiskey is a man’s drink to me, right up there with beer...but with the ginger ale, I’ll admit it was quite tasty.

But soon enough, the bar was closing and we were tired, so we parted ways…my friend’s friends to their lovely “one of the best in Dublin” hotels and us in a cab, off to our blech hotel.

The room turned out not to be that bad and we were so tired, I don’t think we even noticed or cared.

Saturday was ok...I ate way too much, we went to an art gallery and a park and just wandered around, tortured ourselves by going to our friends’ hotel for drinks – and I got to see just how utterly lovely it was – and then we ate dinner at the only place that had a table available, sadly, the same one the three of my friends had just dined at the night before. Stupid rugby game strikes again. After more drinking, with me in ate-too-much-please-kill-me agony by that point, we retired to our respective hotels.

Sunday, we did the Guinness tour and the Kilmainham jail tour. It had been bitter cold all weekend, still was, and I suppose the cold’s saving grace was that it made the jail tour that much more authentic. And I had my first (and only - yuck) pint of Guinness, which I poured myself. Yay me. Soon enough, it was time for me to head back to the airport, where I again tried to eat dinner and this time, almost did miss my flight.

After stopping at sad McDonalds for a McFlurry (random craving), I got home and that was that, end of the weekend.

I gained a ton of weight, which I’ve since lost, thankfully, got to see yet another place and met the very cool friends of my friend. So, whilst Dublin wasn’t that exciting, it was still a fun weekend. If I ever do visit Dublin again, I'll be staying at the lovely hotel and I'll make sure there are no rugby games that weekend!

I thought I’d lost my camera, so no pictures! But I found it yesterday, so:

Next stop: Cardiff, Wales…where I’ll be enjoying a very different kind of holiday, full of spoiling myself and luxury, hopefully without smarm. And I promise at least a few pictures. Of the luxury, not the smarm.