So a fair bit has happened in the past 12 hours or so. I went out on a pub crawl last night which got quite messy. I met a duo of nice New Yorkers. It sounds like an oxymoron but they were legitimately welcoming people. We got properly inebriated then toured a plethora of bars and clubs that I cant seem to recall as odd as that may seem. Had you seen the inventory of my drinks however this information wouldn't be that shocking. We played beer pong at a bar which I feel should be an option for every bar. If you happen to get a pong ball to the head in the crossfire so be it. I also met a lovely local lass named Tanya. Another interesting moment that I left out happened during our cab ride. Apparently a passing motorist told our driver to go back to Africa. Our driver, a native of Senegal was disappointed with this comment as he proceeded to get out of the car to verbally accost the man at the stoplight. Upon returning to the cab our driver flew into a passionate yet disjointed rant about his current affairs and the bullshit he deals with. He had my sympathy. Today I decided to continue touring starting with where Oscar Wilde lived. There was a nearby park that was lusher and greener than Muskoka. I wandered through there for awhile stopping to sit on a bench and look at the pieces of art that were strewn about. I was impressed by how pristine the nature is here. There's an excellent marriage of the old with the new and the manmade with the natural. Being as hungover as I am I'll probably stay low key tonight and go hard tomorrow. That is all.
The Following Day
Today I took the advice of a couple Canadians and went to the village of Houth. It took me about 20 minutes by bus to get there but it might as well have been in another country. I went to the summit and followed one of the trails that lead down to the cliffs overlooking the Atlantic ocean, It was a spectacular view. All I could feel at the time was gratitude. Gratitude for being there and being able to witness the beauty of how the ocean carved out these amazing crevasses into the rock faces. It felt as though it was light years away from metropolitan Dublin. After climbing down the trail I arrived in the village of Houth. It would seem a cliche to call it quaint but I feel there's no better description for the town than that. The ocean side homes were the cottages I always associated with Ireland. It was undoubtedly a fishing town. True to Irish form the day started beautifully sunny and I, not exuding boy scout preparedness failed to bring an umbrella or a raincoat and was thus caught off guard when a thunderstorm rolled in. Luckily enough I was able to seek refuge in a bed and breakfast where I met a warm older couple. They were kind enough to let me stay without buying anything and offered to lend me a raincoat. We talked for about 10 minutes about everything Irish, Canadian and Irish-Canadian. I told them I was grateful for the offer but declined the coat. When I got back to Dublin I decided to go for a run, having recently charged my ipod. This proved to be my downfall as once I started listening to the white stripes I got caught up in the music and lost track of where I was going. A run that was initially meant to be 20 minutes turned into 40 as I desperately tried to trace my way back to the hostel. Eventually I got in just as my new roommates arrived. Three of them were from Sweden and they were friendly and invited me to dinner. We proceeded to get very drunk and they turned out to be some pretty fun people. I had two other roommates as well one from Switzerland and one from Australia. The Australian John gave me some good feedback on Galway, where he'd been 2 weeks before. After hearing this I decided to make a stop over there on my way to Cork. He's retired and has been travelling for the past 7 months which makes my journey seem far less impressive. I think that about sums up the day. I'll probably hit Temple bar tomorrow night as it'll be my last in Dublin. I'll let you know how that goes. Over and out.
