May 20th, 2007

(no subject)

I was expecting to have nothing to say for a while. Ireland thwarted my plan and stuck me with interesting experiences. With my visitors, mostly we have been pub crawling. As someone who drinks very little, most of what I'm seeing is new to me. I think my favorite part about pubs is the singing. There is something endearing about a dozen drunk irishmen belting out classic tunes and I have a soft spot in my heart for accordions. I had never realized that that was what people did when they went out to the bar. That makes bars cooler in my mind.

The other thing I've learned by bar crawling is what Guiness tastes like. Each pint is different. Ranging from nasty and bitter to creamy to sour. I only like the creamy.

Continuing to talk about beer, I think that is what the traffic engineers in Ireland drink at work. The roads here are horrid. Let me give an example. The road that runs along the northern side of the Liffey river in Dublin, in the downtown area (around 22 blocks in length) is called Wolfe Tone Quay/Ellis Quay/Arran Quay/Inns Quay/Ormond Quay Upper/Ormond Quay Lower/Bachelors Walk/Eden Quay/Custom House Quay/North Wall Quay. They don't bother putting up streets signs most of the time because by the time someone had read the sign, they’d already be on another road. And, many places don't bother with addresses.

We went to Blarney. I kissed the blarney stone. It getting worn by the number of passing lips. I also lost my glasses. Since I've been in Europe I lost two pairs of glasses. The second time, I decided not to accept it. Retrieving the glasses was a 6 hour drive. The plan was to drop my peeps off at a B&B in Waterford and for me to go back to Blarney to retrieve them. After checking in, it was suggested to have things expressed to me, so I found out that that would cost less than the gas to travel back and forth. Trumping that, though, our hostess's nephew was driving the same route the next morning. I learned the lesson from this, “If there is something you really don't want to do, hold off till the last minute in case you can get out of it.”

On our way out of Ireland, we met the most peculiar character. A South African lawyer decided to join us at one of the pubs. Her friend, another lawyer (not South African) also joined us after a while. He seemed quite amiable. The South African however, was more remarkable than anything else. I asked about visiting SA and she warned strongly against it. Apparently the black people there hate white people. She then went on to explain that she doesn’t hate black people because she’s racist. She hates them because they are lazy, stupid, and steal spoons.