Thursday night we had the Lane-Foxes over for appetizers/drinks before an informal dinner at Maroush.
Friday, we cut out of work mid-afternoon to make it to Gatwick for our Ryan Air flight to Dublin. An interesting note, if Ryan Air notifies you that as a non-EU passport holder you need to get a stamp validating your work visa to board (a) when you buy the tickets, (b) in its confirmation email and (c) on the actual boarding pass, then you may want to get that stamp. Otherwise, you get turned away at the gate with the agent saying, “Yeah, you won’t make this flight. You should go out and buy a ticket for the 8:45 flight.”
Anne and I joined an Australian dude at the service desk in the terminal to figure out next steps, when Anne turned on the waterworks. The lady at the desk felt the way I do when the tears come forth and literally ran back through security to get us the stamps we needed (Side Note 1: AT NO POINT DID ANYONE ACTUALLY LOOK AT OUR PASSPORT/VISA!!!). Anne, I and the Australian dude run a 400m sprint to the gate to the bewildered and still rude gate agent.
We land in Dublin and catch a bus into the city. Anne and Burr, super-tourists we are, don’t see a need to take down the address of the Westin, knowing we have a general idea of the area. After 60 minutes of walking around in circles and cold, we head towards the nearest line of cabs and are about to ask directions, when we realize we are directly in front of the hotel.
Needless to say, not a great start to the trip. However, it turned around quite quickly. I guess the Westin – Dublin doesn’t get many Starwood members with status checking in for the weekend, because the guy at check-in was uncomfortably gracious. Think Johan Hill’s character in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Making this funnier was Anne trying to make a beeline for the elevator (someone had to go to the bathroom), and the guy wouldn’t give me the key until he handed me no less than 8 pamphlets. The upgrade meant that our junior suite was bigger than our London flat and a bathroom that was as large as our London bedroom. And the king-size Heavenly bed was a welcome sight as well.
We met Ed (camp friend and one of my groomsmen) who lives / goes to school in Dublin for dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Temple Bar. We then went to Temple Bar in Temple Bar for a drink, which was almost more American than the Hard Rock Café next door.
Saturday morning, we stayed in bed until 11 and therefore got a late start on the day. We’ve had amazing weather here in London. That luck apparently does not extend to the Emerald Isle. Stop number 1 was buying umbrellas. We then swung by Trinity College to see the Book of Kells before catching a cab to the Guinness storehouse. We took the tour and had our free pint. In case you were wondering about Anne’s natural sports talents, please check out this two-part pictorial of her trying to throw a coin into the lucky Guinness waterfall.
The weather was just too bad to do much more touring. With the Lions (British/Irish All-Star rugby team) playing a match in South Africa, the West Indies v. Australia Twenty20 cricket, England v. Argentina rugby, the French Open, England v. Kazakhstan soccer match and Ireland v. Bulgaria soccer match, Ed and I out-voted Anne to return to the hotel room to ride out the storm.
A six pack later, we emerged to get a drink at another pub in Temple Bar. Anne was all for this, until she realized that (a) every pub was showing the Ireland soccer match and (b) the pubs are not well insulated.
Dinner was at Ed’s favourite restaurant (a decent Japanese joint) and then Anne retired for a bubble bath. Ed and I hit yet another couple of pubs, before settling at the Porterhouse for a couple more pints and a classic rock cover band headed by a 60-year-old frontman.
We got up Sunday (again at 11) for a train ride down the Irish coast to Brey (see pic at top right) before catching the bus to the airport. No such drama at the airport this time and we arrived back at the flat by 7 PM.
Hope everyone has a great week. Talk to you next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment