My desire to meet passionate local Irishmen was fulfilled the very first day in Dublin. We had spent all afternoon in the heart of the city and were heading back to The Maldron Hotel on the outskirts; by irish standards it was in the middle of nowhere; first lesson learned, but we found getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre was the serrenity we needed our first day.
We were packed on the amtrak like mice in a pet store, no room to sit, so I obviously took the opportune time to people watch. Two irishmen we later knew as Tony and Donal stood nearly five feet away swapping stories I was trying terribly hard to listen in on. The functional beanie I wore all day to shield my ears from the cold in part and hide my terrible travel hair was preventing me from enjoying this free public entertainment. I noticed Tony's beanie was covering all but his ears, and was caught making this observation... probably because it seems to defeat the point to me, so I joking commented. He enthusiastically shared his reasoning for this technique, concluding that its the only way to converse properly, ears revealed. I admitted to already having to turn and give the speaker my good ear.
Soon we were all laughing and they had inquired about our travels after hearing our accents. Tony excitedly ratted Donal out for being a tour guide and volunteered him to share his knowledge on the stipulation that we accompany them to a local pub/karaoke bar. They announce their approaching stop and give the no big deal if you don't come speech. The door opens, they hop out, Katie, Matthew and I glance at them, then at each other, and pounceu like children that just got approval from mom to play.
Our destination was Fannigans, but the midnight walk to it was just as enjoyable alongside a beautiful canal and weaving through intimate Irish neighborhoods. We were undoubtably the youngest group there by thirty years so we found a quiet corner by an open door to compensate for the congestion of warm bodies and the excitement began. Opening topics consisted of occupation, origins, destinations, family, hobbies, etc. and slowly transitioned from Irish expansion to worldwide American influence bringing us to the inevitable: American Politics. So far I've validated that europeans love to talk about American politics. But however different you think the subject might be a few thousand miles away, still no one ever wins. Halfway in, after noticing that Donal and I shared the same outlook, I moved and was finally able to pick his brain apart.
He made us an itinerary for our stay in Ireland, and I cannot remember a time I've listened so intently as when spoken to by a perfectly handsome, proper Irishman. We all parted at nearly two a.m. and were deemed "by far the most interesting American's" they had ever met. Curiously enough, our cab driver got lost taking us back to our hotel, giving me time to replay the nights end: long drawn out hug, I hop in the cab and Donal smiles and shuts my door. The whole night he was ecstatic give us direction and had extended and invitation for us to come take his tour, his treat. I looked down at the list and he had marked that as the first thing we should do he following day... yes, please.
Some reoccurring advice we had received before our travels was not to sleep the first day until nighttime. Well, we were unable to sleep on our red eye, lost four hours in time zones, and had been awake for almost forty-two hours... that alone would make anyone fail a sobriety test. We pass out, seven thirty rolls around and I awake in an erie haze to an irishwoman, in pajamas going through our stuff. I sat up and politely asked her what she was doing only to be bombarded with some bogus explanation of how the hotel had double booked that room. When I attempted to reason with her she moved to her theory that Irish hotels were booked for twelve hours at a time and since we had checked in at two we were supposed to be out already. She claimed to have been trying to wake Matthew for ten hours since he was in her bed, even though we had been there for no more than five. I immediately jumped up, threw on my jeans which had my pepper spray and headed back towards Matt to wake him, but before I did she kicked him in the lats, causing a very abrupt awakening. Now the two of us were agitated trying to reason with this irrational woman, Katie was awake, in awe, and Matt quickly went to get a worker to straighten out the misunderstanding. She kept attempting to go through our bags saying she needed to find her phone to call her boyfriend. I kept assuring her the bags were ours and asked her to stay away and have a seat until we had it sorted, after all hadn't she been trying to wake Matt for a bed?
A voice echoed down the hallway and she announced her boyfriend had found her. My heart raced with anticipation, were they in this together, had there scheme gone wrong and he was there to bail her out?. Luckily, he stood at the door an explained that he had been looking for her, they were on the second floor and she had run off. Matthew arrived for his apology and the two staggered off together. We went back in our room, triple locked our door and tried to calm down before re-attempting to cure our sleep deprivation. Our money, passports, and electronics were all present so that eased our worries and when we got up for the day... at eleven... our bathroom was permeated with throw-up. A drunken Irishwoman had somehow found herself in the wrong room we told ourselves. However, she wouldn't ever tell us how she got in our room, so we resolved to triple lock our hotel rooms every night before bed.. Lesson learned.
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