ib - traveling

Here’s the thing about Dublin, if you get out your lazy touristic arse and trade in an early morning daydreaming about the green fields for just one night of crazy frolicking around the streets, with beer in hand, you will see life differently and if your luck a leprechaun too.

Well, one night after some pre-drinks drinks I was on my way to the Lost Society. The place was bursting with old gentleman and their much younger girlfriends and young old gentleman wannabes. Still each room allowed a 5-minute breather from the other, which made for a fairly pleasant half hour. The music was a remixed version of whatever was on the charts that week and the drinks weren't half bad either.

But this wasn’t the end or highlight of that night. Slightly taken with a certain fairy we took the party to the holy grail of Dublin’s nightlife, Temple Bar. It must have been extremely late because the only people we managed to talk to were the occupiers of Dame Street. I don’t remember but I think I might have made some promises about joining them…

The streets were darker than usual and only the occasional couple would make pass by. Every closed door, however, hid a remarkable appeal. Great craic to be told and lived and if we were to choose any of those pubs, I'm sure we would have had great stories to tell. Still we had a destination, the Fitzsimmons. A more chewing gum type place with quickly forgettable music and overpriced drinks but a great place to meet boring people. I mean, with the loud music it’s hard to figure out if those two words they say every now and again are actually pearls of wisdom.

That's when 4 o'clock hit and I met this tall, dark, and handsome jamaican. Though when he told me he was a doctor I panicked. Be honest, what are the odds of you finding a jamaican doctor in Dublin partying up a storm during the week at a club? Well, fairly high but I knew then I should put the pint down and head home. Just me a green fairy and a quiet leprechaun.