Gravel In My Tread
excerpts from a travel journal
29 JAN 2017
Friday, 27 JAN 2017 -
We started with a French cafe. I got lots of bread and the best toffee latte. Noah got American pancakes. The waitresses were French and fucking beautiful. Dressed in black dresses with white fringes and frocks.
We wandered the city for a while, exploring the shopping district and mall, etc. We visited a tourism office and met a very helpful man who recommended a stop in Malahide, a coastal fishing village to the north. So we boarded a train to Malahide. We walked the small town a short time and then followed the coastline a few miles. Eventually we decided to turn back, the weight from our packs bearing down on us. We ate at a very pleasant seafood restaurant in town. I had cod and chips, then a sort of berry crumble for dessert. The lager was okay. Everything else was fucking perfect. I decided we should check out Malahide Castle. By the time we arrived there the gates were closed and locked - fifteen minutes too late.
We took the train back to Dublin and made for the Riverhouse Hotel, which was maybe three doors down from the Apache we stayed at the previous night. We waited too long to book a cheap place, so we ended up having to "splurge" on a hotel. Which was nice. They had towels. The Apache did not. Which makes sense. (I think this might be why Douglas Adams is so adamant about bringing a towel along - hostels are so common and rarely provide their own towels)
Once settling in I could tell Noah was running on empty. I implied that he could stay in but he declined. Minutes later he said he would stay in. I went out. I haunted the dark city for quite a while. I was searching for a pub with live music and some friendly faces. I took a few pictures, took a few drinks a lone, then found a large, 3 story bar with live Irish music somewhere near the river. I got a drink and took to watching the man play. There was another man doing the same next to me so I chatted him up. Stuart, from York. He's traveled all over Europe and South Asia and is headed to America soon - San Francisco, Las Vegas, and New York. I made sure he knew they weren't anywhere near each other. He highly recommended I visit York. It's "Classic England." We cheersed and I moved on.
The next pub I visited I met a man who looked very similar to David Tennant. It was not him. Probably. Trent, from Ireland I think. He was so glad I was talking to him. Thought my accent was brilliant. Highly recommended Lake Bled in Slovenia. We'll see. I asked him what he did for work and he said simply "Scientist." I hugged him and moved on. I think Trent grew weed.
I think I missed a meeting in there somewhere. One of the first bars I went into was down near Whelan's, where I saw Astro the night before. It was a sports bar. The idea of watching European sports with a bunch of rowdy boy intrigued me. There weren't really any sports on. No rowdy boys. There were some cute girls. They weren't single. I wouldn't have done anything anyway. Not my style. I did find an IPA on tap. Now IPAs are easy to find in Ireland, but that's because they substitute India for Irish. They are not as good. So I paid something like seven Euro for a real IPA. The barman told me the price was due to the high ABV. I asked what it was, expecting something like seven or eight, as I've found beer abroad to be quite weak by comparison to the Portland beer bubble. He told me it was about 4.6%. Jesus. I told him that's basically a session beer back home, and that I regularly drink beer from 7-13% for four or five bucks. He told me that'd be far too dangerous here. He also told me to go to a football match. I'd like that.
So after all these meetings I'm sort of wandering aimlessly as I'm wont to do when travelling alone. I'm in the Temple Bar district and I'm a little drunk. I get to this large square area with a huge crowd and loud music. In the middle of the crowd is a freestanding pull-up bar. Men hang from it one at a time. There is a count-up timer next to it for everyone to see. I gather that the goal is to reach 100 seconds. I'm certain I can do this but the line is long and I'm drunk so I don't. There didn't seem to be a cost, penalty, or prize. Just fun. Everyone was cheering them on - it was great.
Nearby I found the source of the live music which was, at this moment, the main theme to Lion King. So I entered the absolutely packed bar. Very loud live music. American covers. Several different overpriced bars scattered throughout the building. I start drinking Heineken. I met a guy on a stag do with twenty other guys, of which he only knew two. We chatted for a few minutes, and when one of his friends came around he introduced me as his "new American mate." That was fun. I followed the music and squeezed as deep as I could into the crowd. I was exactly drunk enough to sing and dance with everyone.
At some point this very cute Irish girl walked toward me, touched my face, and said "Oh that is a good beard." She said she would be back in a minute. I went downstairs to pee. We met eyes later and smiled at each other and that was that.
Have I mentioned how unbelievably attractive the Irish tend to be?
Saturday, 28 JAN 2017 -
I woke up still drunk which was good because the hangover would have been excruciating. It was nearing checkout time so I took a shower and stole one of the towels for future use. Fight me. We set off to find Noah a McDonald's. This kid has an obsession with American fast food. He's eaten a lot of Subway and McDonald's and convenience store sandwiches. I've eaten nothing but local cuisine, doing my very best to avoid any all American corporations. Even, especially, Starbucks. European coffee is fantastic.
He got McDonald's and I found a great bar serving a full Irish breakfast, consisting of two sausages, an egg, black and white pudding, baked beans, bacon, and toast. And coffee. It was delightful. Noah was not permitted to eat his meal in the bar. I didn't feel that bad. Eat local, dummy. From the upstairs window we watched as a petting zoo was erected outside, across the street. Rabbits, dogs, goats, mini horses. Kind of a weird petting zoo, really. The kids seemed into it.
We set off to get tattoos. I had made a sort of private goal of getting a tattoo in every country I really felt a connection to. My Temple Bar experience was enough to cement that feeling for Ireland. We went to Connected Ink in the Temple Bar district. I decided the night before to get the word DAANG with the Celtic trinity symbol for an A. This has a few meanings to me: First, I say dang a lot; second, Astro has dang tattooed on his knuckles, so this is a reminder of meeting him in Ireland; third, the Celtic trinity is Irish, where I got this; fourth, it looks dope as hell. The tattooist thought it was weird to get dang instead of damn.
Next, we went to the Guinness Storehouse. It was very busy. The are so many Asians at any sort of tourist spot. It's incredible. The tour was extensive, covering the whole brewing process, and featuring old advertisements, memorabilia, restaurants, bars, kids areas, shit to buy, etc. My goal was to reach the Gravity Bar, the top of the building where you can get a pint and look over the city. It was fucking packed and not very cool and Guinness still sucks.
We fled and caught our first bus of the trip to the Metro Hotel Dublin Airport. The shittiest name for a hotel possibly ever. The bus trip went off without a hitch. Can I just mention how incredible Google Maps is with its offline maps feature? I can't imagine this trip without it. Anyway. We arrive at the hotel and search for a Subway for Noah. Not a joke. Due to the scarcity of anything else near us, I picked up a sort of breakfast burrito from the Eurospar that house a Subway inside it. Also a strawberry Cornetto. It was fine, but I feel like I'm part of the Cornetto Trilogy zeitgeist now, which is great.
Noah went to bed straight away. I tried but couldn't - I slept maybe two or three hours before waking Noah at 4:15 to get ready for our flight.
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