I arrived in Dublin on Friday morning Valentine's Day, aaaaaaw... The friend with the hour delay was still slated to arrive before I did, so we relied on wifi to find each other, though she also had my flight info. The best thing ever is when you realize not even ever-progressing technology can stand in the way of planning and scheduling confusion. We of course did not realize that we were at different terminals while sending feverish emails to each other about where the other one was. Once we figured out the mistake, we ran around the airport trying to find the correct bus to Limerick, getting slapped in the face my Mother Nature's residual rainy anger in the process. Having finally ensconced ourselves in a Dublin Bus, my friend and I were so busy chatting that we didn't realize we missed our transfer stop completely, so the friendly driver promised to drop us off near another transfer stop where we could catch yet another bus that was currently broken down and waiting for a replacement vehicle. Perhaps this could all have led to bitter frustration at the cosmic events of such a day, but when we were walking our bags from one bus to the other, we spotted the most brilliant Irish rainbow through the glimmering clouds and we knew dear Ireland was welcoming us at last.
We spent Friday night in Limerick, enjoying a rather low-key evening after our day of epic travel. The only real drama was when my friend's apartment lost electricity and I practically threw a fit over the idea that I couldn't shower and curl my hair before going out on the town. Call it petulance, call it fixation, call it downright bitchy narcissism, but at the end of the day no one wants to be denied a cleansing ritual after being up since 4am, taking a plane to a different country, and running around being bitch-slapped by the rain. The stars were aligned, however, when the electricity came back on, giving me enough time to throw some dry-shampoo on my head and curl up my pretty blonde locks. We took a chance on an Indian/Thai restaurant after forgetting that Valentine's Day would mean most restaurants would be booked, but were pleasantly surprised at the result and had a fabulously delicious meal. We hit up another bar after that, wearing the fashionable friendship bracelets I had bought for us all, and began our weekend living off of Jameson and Ginger Ales.
The next morning was a lovely romp to the local Milk Market, where we went on a bit of a spree buying snacks and treats to have at our bed and breakfast later in the day. And as ever in tune with the weekend of the fates, we ran into one of our friends' cousins who coincidentally also went to high school with us. We knew she was in Ireland, but it was a random stroke of fate that made someone look up and spot her as she was about to leave. Later that day we would see her and her boyfriend again at the Cliffs of Moher at the same time... Gotta love the small small world...
But before reaching the Cliffs of Moher, we had to embrace our good friend "Zelda", the car we had rented for the weekend, and which Dancer friend would be the Captain of for the next 24 hours. Driving on the wrong side of the road in a foreign country is always a feat, especially when four giddy girls cannot wait to get to the next location. We made it safely to the Cliffs, though the engine light kept going on and the car continued to buck like an angry horse whenever we slowed down. Just another bit of spice to add to our festive mix. The Cliffs were stunning, almost too bright in the blazing sun on a day quite a bit clearer and more beautiful then the day before. As we proceeded to Galway for the evening, we had our final spot of road trip drama: the excessive rains of the past few days had left certain areas flooded as we drove through The Burren, a rocky limestone set of rolling hills. At one point we stopped before a particularly ominous looking watery patch in the hopes that some other brave soul would drive through it first. We shared a few chats with other local travelers, and the bravest member of our party actually walked right into the water to gage the depth. As "Zelda" swam through our little lake, I rather hoped she would turn into a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang-esque piece of machinery, but no luck there.
And finally we arrived in Galway... Yup, perhaps I've found my mecca. Before heading to the B&B, we went down to the city center to walk around a bit and check out the lay of the land. A fantastically cute strip of bars, restaurants, and shops, we felt the positive Irish vibe already building for the night ahead. Our B&B was adorable and welcoming, and we opened up some wine to go with our milk market treats involving cheeses, meats, olives, fruits, and breads. The owner of the establishment gave us a suggestion of where to begin our evening since Galway is known for its music scene. Interestingly enough, as we walked down to Taaffes Pub for some traditional Irish tunes, we all mutually agreed, most likely due to travel fatigue and the knowledge that we had to get up at 7am the next day, that this would likely be a rather chill, uneventful evening... FAMOUS LAST WORDS...
The first bar rather confirmed our original suspicions. It was lively but a little too packed, we were accosted by a substantially drunk rambling man, and we made our way to another place, The Quays, in search of a better vibe. And thus our luck began... My two friends visiting from home are both married, so they turned into some of the best wingwomen I have ever known. We quickly ran with several groups of Irish rogues, and I personally believe a rather mischievous pack of leprechauns. I was particularly tickled by the fancy of a delightful chap who caught my eye almost immediately, as he claimed afterward was a mutual impulse. Let's just say that he was fine with my gibberish about hobbits and when I asked him his opinion on crustaceans, he didn't bat an eye... Done and done... We followed him and his fellow cohorts from one bar to another, and continued to chat and drink and generally be merry for several more hours. Jameson and Ginger was the lifeblood of the weekend, there were several Belfast Boys also demanding the attention of Dancer friend, and circa 4am we all realized that the night had become much more ridiculous than we had remotely intended. My gallant lad had to leave and bring his friend home, but then returned to herald me about town a bit longer, after we had all gone in search of some fried food to tame our tipsy ways.
Now listen, no funny business, we are LADIES... Well, except myself who clearly spent a good long while "snogging" on a Galway street and at one point was mocked by a college girl hanging out of a window. Very few things in life are truly worthwhile if they cannot stand a bit of mockery. My magical leprechaun was as complimentary and exciting as they come, weaving his wizardry to captivate my enchanting heart for the evening. The only thing about leprechauns? They may make shoes, grant wishes, or provide pots of gold, but they are not easily caught nor meant to stay around. I shall have to return to Galway to find another at my earliest convenience ; )
Cut to 7am... Death... Dying... and then some more Death... Very little in life is good after 2 hours of sleep. That is not to say you can't find perspective and realize that it was all part of a greater plan of epic revelry that was incredibly and entirely worth it. But at the same time, I am assuming this is why they invented the full Irish breakfast in the first place. You need EVERYTHING on your plate to ensure that you continue to exist and make it through the day. As we sat around the most charming little breakfast room and table, one of my friends looked up from her plate and quietly sung "Mama said they'll be days like this, they'll be days like this, my mama said..." The soundtrack of the trip was confirmed...
Our final adventure was an afternoon in Dublin. Poor Dancer friend still had to captain "Zelda", as the rest of us tried desperately not to fall asleep in support of her sacrifice. Once we got to Dublin, we had a bit of an issue with the car company, who decided to be evil and claim there was damage to the car. I thought Dancer friend might literally explode, but we comforted ourselves with the promise of nourishment in Dublin. Fish n' chips was ravenously consumed before heading to Penney's, the Best. Store. Ever... I would describe it as a cheaper version of Target with more random stuff, including the two adorable outfits I bought in the 30 minutes I was allotted to browse the stands. We then ventured to the Jameson Factory, oh so excited to hallmark our homage to Jameson all weekend with a true experience in how it is created and shared by all. But of course, something had to go wrong in the end... We weren't quite with it enough to have booked tickets in advance, so by the time we arrived, all of the tours before we had to catch our flight were sold out... We finally consoled ourselves by sitting in the bar and tasting various fancy Jameson cocktails before at long last bidding adieu to our amazing Irish weekend...
Final analysis? Ireland is absolutely filled with ancient magic and might in fact be my homeland. I should probably find and marry an Irishman because they seem to understand my humor, like the way I look, and are the closest thing to hobbits outside of New Zealand... I do, however, wonder if some of the enchantment would be lost if I actually lived there. Best to return systematically every few months and dance in the Irish rain...
Next stop Paris, for the final leg of our traveling reunion...
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