Part I: Dublin, Ireland – A Brief Intro, Jesus Times, Sights & Signs
January 6, 2013
January 6, 2013
December 25, 2012 was kept very secularist, suckers. No garland, no presents, the only fat man I encountered was the one sitting next to me. And let me tell you, the only acceptable fat person is John Goodman.
But getting back to the blog at hand…
Christmas Day, I was on a plane. The husband was gnawing on a cheese platter in the seat next to me and there was some movie playing where Ashton Kutcher wears the same pair of pajamas in every damn scene.
In a spur of the moment decision, the husband and I decided to eschew the typical “family” Christmas plans and book a trip to Ireland. I am now a world traveler. I’ve never been overseas before and I now realize there are two phrases that should always be uttered on overseas vacations: Emilio Estevez and the perfect storm.
No relation between the two.
Or is there?
Because this blog post will get out of control pretty damn quick, kinda like my bowels on a hot Saturday night, I’m going to break this down nice and easy into a three-part extravaganza. Just how your mom likes it.
When I travel I must take in the sights. Museums. Scenery. Hobos in dumpsters. Stuff like that. Hotel be damned, I will not stay in it long. I will wake you from a good night’s sleep so we can ramble the town. I will slip you energy drinks. And I’ll especially jump on the bed if you try to nap.
The Gresham on O’Connell Street was our lodging and it was very nice with its pointed toilet paper tips and heated towel rack.
A week before the trip I made a super-sweet itinerary and kept it carefully tucked away in my super-serious planner.
First thought scouring the city: Man, I love how old things are just lying around in Ireland.
Everything I saw was a lesson in giddiness. Shit’s old, people. Damn. I always knew that…but having never been overseas before and only traveling here in America one just experiences buildings/culture from the 1700s, so it really blows your freaking mind to see buildings from Jesus Times.
Here’s a brief recap of the sights we saw…
One of the largest jails in Europe, used during the 1780s to the 1920s, this tour really helped us get a sense of Irish history. Sobering history and what gorgeous lines on this jail.
The tour started off with me going up to an Irish guide.
Me: “Excuse me, I would like a map.”
Guide: “What language?”
Me: “In American, please.”
Guide: “You mean English?”
Me: “That is correct, sir.”
Firstly, this is why you do not take me overseas.
Secondly, GIVE ME MORE GUINNESS NOW.
Over here in the US, I never cared for Guinness. But in Ireland…oh baby. I drank that dark foamy beer more than my husband. Thick, creamy and just made for a scoop of ice cream, I’ll never get that true Irish taste out of my mind.
Plus, how can you NOT love a company where Rutger Hauer was a goddamn spokesman.
Thirdly, I guess what I’m saying is the Guinness Factory was delicious. Especially the 360 degree views at the Gravity Bar.
The Vikings settled Dublin. Did you know that? Yeah, well, neither did I, until we took the tour of Dublinia. We started off with a tour of Viking family life, with my husband wolfishly uttering, “Oh, you’d have so many kids by now…”
It surprised me to learn that Dublinia means “Dark pool of water”, especially since that’s what I call it when I lose control of my bladder.
Basically, this museum was super cool and gave many ripe photo opportunities for me to wear my pouty-face. As evidenced below.
I am not a religious person. But I love touring old churches. The history, the beauty, the corpses buried beneath floorboards…
Words can’t really describe these.
Just…beauty and epic, epic history. Thank god Henry VIII wasn’t the prick that he was and burned these to the ground. It really made me wish I had a better understanding of art history so I knew the difference between medieval and gothic architecture. Instead I just ended up calling everything a flying buttress and snickering silently in a corner.
I’ll admit it. My first thought was – I wonder how many people commit suicide here, HERPDEPRWHAT? After a stern scowl from the Husband I decided to NOT ask the question. It was difficult and later that night Wikipedia helped me out with the answer. (4 suicides in 2008)
But I digress…yay, prettiness!
Give me a graveyard and I am a happy girl.
I could seriously make out with our tour bus driver for stopping at this Abbey. This 13th-century Cistercian monastery is the oldest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It was beautiful. We stopped as dusk was falling and it was complete with that old eerie feeling.
Probably one of my majorly favorite parts of the trip.
I fucking love street art.
As mentioned in last year’s San Diego blog post, I’m a sucker for signs. I see something on the street corner (no, not that call girl) and I’ll snap a shot. This usually ends with my husband being five blocks ahead of me as I mutter to myself and frantically hurry to catch up with him…
I always take a camera to the bathroom for pics like this:
GOOD GOD YES
Even in Ireland I couldn’t escape the Kardashian’s
Reminded me of one of Cinderella’s stepsisters
Making me proud, Ireland
This toilet was mine
The name of this drink deserves a medal
CANNOT. STOP. LAUGHING.
I hope you enjoyed me shoving Dublin down your throat. Believe me, that is not a euphemism…as much as I’d like it to be.
Coming up next week…The people, friends, and sweatpants of Ireland.