My Mecca

Ireland

So, the pilots for RyanAir need to figure out where the brakes are. Idiots. As if it’s not bad enough that the whole flight is a commercial. Well, that part had its moments. They had a card with the menu for the flight, “now featuring hot meals!” The cheeseburger was demonstrated hot with flames around it, but not consuming it. It was as though flying over the sea wasn’t enough to beat Moses. Screw shrubbery, RyanAir has demonic looking burgers to traverse water. And you can smoke on these flights, using electronic cigarettes. They had two flavors, “American,” and “Virginian.” Those in our group, American students from Virginia, appreciated what the marketing people had failed to notice. And I so would have bought a pack, but they were 6 Euros. I hadn’t converted my money from pounds, and even though it was an international (technically) flight, they only accepted Euros. As we start descending, we can see the Irish countryside. Ah, beautiful. I thought, Man, we should be going slower than this. I want to see more. As we landed, the plane and everyone in it, jolted, literally jolted, when the pilot slammed on the brakes as soon as the wheels touched down. I would have had another shot of inhaler, but the plane ride was less than an hour, and even then, I was supposed to wait for 3 more before I was supposed to have a dose.

I figured that when I take off, or during turbulence, or when we land, or pretty much I’m in a plane, me and my inhaler are like friends with benefits. It’s always in my mouth.

I can’t remember, but I was probably cursing a fair bit. And I was probably speaking with a Scottish accent. The others in the group were amazed with how long it didn’t take me to “sound like them.” Nice, American xenophobia strikes again. Like when they complained about “the bathrooms in this effing country being too small.”

After we landed, we were on another coach tour. I hate feeling like a tourist, even when that’s obviously what I was. We got to the hotel, and the rooms weren’t ready. Apology from the hotel. The group split into smaller groups and went out for lunch. I had a Beef and Guinness Pie. A beef pot pie with beer already in it. And none of this should I have the red or white wine with this dish…it tells what beer to drink! We get back to the hotel, and our rooms still weren’t ready. Apology from the hotel. I left, and walked around a bit. I found this genealogy place, and talked to the guy, Alex. He confirmed that I, in fact, did have Irish heritage. Everyone apparently wants to be Irish, according to Alex. I realized he has a point, if he keeps a shop open year round. But this was his peak season- week before Saint Patrick’s Day. Walked around a little bit more, and finally went back to the hotel. My room was finally ready, and a group of people were going to the Temple Bar area. I, incidentally, spent a lot of time in this district. As we were walking to it, I pointed out the genealogy place, and several people, from my own group, needed to go see if they were Irish. Point taken, Alex. Touché. It pissed off someone, who didn’t want to spend all day in one store, especially in one that sold you nothing you can’t find on the internet for free. Touché, person from the group. (My point was, precisely why I talked to him, not bought anything…) So we left them there and walked around Dublin.

I’m not sure if you can understand how close I was to hyperventilating the whole time I was there. This is where U2 is from! These are streets they walked, and still do, too. I found the Clarence Hotel. Ok, I didn’t have to look. I knew where it was. We went to the Clarence Hotel. I walked in, and I’m pretty sure I cried. I went to the Octagon Bar, and just sat. I had my picture made, and bought a T-Shirt. I really just wanted the invoice slip, for the phone number so next time I go, I can make a reservation easier. And then I would have a reason to hang out in this hotel. (Trip 1, if you’re counting...)

The person I was with had a reputation as unpleasant. I told her that I was happy to be walking around with her, because I didn’t know her all that well, and she was really a nice person. I told her, honestly, that I’m glad she saw me cry in the U2 hotel, as opposed to others from the group, and we eventually found a bar with live music. I had my first

Guinness. I have had it in America, but those don’t count. I count the first one in Ireland as my “first” one. That really was a great time, and like I said, I think it was great that I was able to share it with this one person. I could have no real expectation of the trip, and for Dublin, that was the hardest part. I was so excited about being there, and to spend it with the “mean one” showed me that it is what you make it. I put everything I heard aside, and had a damn fine time. I hope that the feelings are the same for her. Of course, I was known as the “stalker.” And after being in the hotel, I think she knows that I don’t just subscribe to the populous view of U2, there’s an actual reason I would go to another hotel bar for a drink than an actual pub.

We went to Trinity College and Dublin Institute of Technology the next day. After DIT, we could walk around the city, because dinner was on ODU that night. Joe and I went to find St Stephens Green. I was confused, because that coach tour threw off my sense of direction. But we did see a sign for Freebird Records, on Wicklow Street. So we walked around, and I added 2 albums to my vinyl collection. Good time there. We walked around some other parts of the city, and went to the General Post Office. Then he asked me, HE ASKED ME, to show him the U2 hotel. So I did. (Trip 2, if you’re counting…) That’s when I found out the art in the lobby was done by Guggi.

We walked around a bit more, and I eventually made it back to the hotel to put my records down. I found myself back at the Octagon bar, talking to the bartender. She said that U2 weren’t in Ireland. I gave her a skeptical look, and she said that if they are, the hotel knows, because they could drop by. I started talking to her, for a while, and wheedled some information out of her. Bono drinks either whiskey on the rocks, or pints of Guinness, Edge and Adam drink pints of Guinness, and Larry drinks Irish Breakfast Tea, in the back bar, but sometimes they are in the front bar. The first time I was there, I sat in the seat that Bono “usually” sits in, if they aren’t walking around. The back bar was closed, but, seeing as how if you try sometimes, you get what you need, I tried. I got served a Jameson on the rocks from the back bar. Great time spent there. (Trip number 3)

Dinner was cool. There was a band doing “Traditional Irish” (read: tourist) songs, and a spot of Riverdance in the middle. Appetizer was soup, which was wonderful, entrée was Bangers and Mash, and I wish I can find those dandy herbed sausages here…and desert was something really good, but I can’t remember. Carlsberg, Guinness, and I think another Jamesons was drinks. In the intermission, I went out for a smoke. I met two people from Canada, Brandon and Angie. I talked to them, and they seemed pretty cool.

I was eating dinner at the table from ODU. The band leader was involving people in the auidnece, and a group of 17 was great fun, with a 50 something year old at the head of the table, it was a prime target. Brandon Lynch, the band leader, asked if we were all his kids. Naturally, we said yeah. He just looked at the head faculty member for the trip and “You were awful randy, weren’t you?” At the course change, I ran out of beverage. I got up to grab something, and on my way back, I saw Brandon and Angie. They waved, and I sat down with them for a minute. They introduced me to their friend Magnus, from Sweden. As soon as I was leaving, Brandon Lynch said something about the Canadians and the Swede. Everyone in this packed show turns and looks at the 4 of us. All the ODU people were confused how I met them. Someone said, “…Jeremy? What are you doing?” I just waved, I said “Yeah, I’m on my way back. I needed more beer.” I promised to catch up with my new friends after the show.

After the show, some from ODU went to bed. Some went walking around the old parts. Most, including myself, were heading back to the Temple Bar area. Except, I was headed off with Brandon, Angie, and Magnus. We were standing at the door, and I offered for anyone from ODU to come with. “No…we’re going to” then their voices trailed off and they turned in to speak with each other. Whatever. We went down and walked into a pub, and there were 4 other patrons in it. There was a bartender, and a guy playing guitar. Brandon and I ordered pints of Heineken, and Angie and Magnus had Smirnoff Ices. The guy was playing Oasis, Don’t Look Back in Anger. And the 4 of us sang along, swinging our drinks, and having fun. The other patrons, who were older, seemed to enjoy having us, as it brightened up their night. Then Guitar Guy said, That’s my last song, See you! The 4 of us shared similar expressions, shock mixed with anger- No, it isn’t. Play something us to let us at least finish our beer. I think it was Brandon, but it could have been me who said, if you know another song, you’re going to play it.

Well, he played 500 Miles by the Proclaimers. And you know that catchy chorus, “Ba-lah-lah-hah!”? Well, the four of us had locked arms, and were singing it as loud as we could. It was really, really fun. Then the guy really did leave, and so did we. We found another bar, and another bar. It was kind of annoying, because each time we left a bar, we ran into more people from ODU. They stared at me like I was insane for being able to meet someone so quickly, and go out for the night with them.

Whatever.

At the last one we were in, Take A Chance On Me by ABBA came on the stereo. I love this ABBA song. Magnus, our resident Swede, however, hates ABBA. Too bad for him. I took full advantage of my lyrical knowledge and sang it loudly. And I think Brandon and Angie did, too. We called it a night after that.

The next day we left the country. RyanAir flight to London. Next time, we’ll meet Charlotte, Emily, and Julie Roberts. And, Joe, Stephen, Ludmilla, and the 2 girls I don’t know if I ever knew their names, all those people from The Eagle-. It will be the London/Cambridge part. Euston Station/Great Gaddesden will be a separate posting.