Warning: this post contains no pictures because, once again, we’d forgotten to check the camera battery before flying out. The friend we stayed with did take pictures, but subsequently had issues with her camera, and we never actually saw them.
One of Tall’s friends was living in Dublin for some of the time that we lived in England, and continually bugged us about going to visit her. “You’ll love it!” Jo enthused. “And you may as well come when you’ve got free accommodation…”
So when Ryan Air had 1p (yes, that’s one pence) flights from London to Dublin, we decided the time was right to take her up on her offer to be our personal tour guide.
We arrived late on a Friday night and were whisked from Jo’s flat to an apparently-exclusive nightclub almost immediately (after a necessary change from our jeans and tees into more appropriate outfits); the cover charge was €20 each, and Tall paid €50 for three drinks at the bar, and we quickly realised that everything we’d heard about Dublin being expensive was true. Whether it was because they’d adopted the euro, or because of the failing economy (thanks to a boom in construction and wealth, followed closely by the recession and subsequent collapse of many businesses), I don’t know, but we certainly noticed a big difference in the change we got (or not!) for the same type of service we were used to.
The following day, we played tourists. We visited Trinity College and saw the Book of Kells, and took a really interesting tour of Kilmainham Gaol (where many of the most important leaders of the various Irish rebellions were imprisoned). We headed to the Guinness Factory, but it was closed on that particular day (no idea why!), so instead we went to a tiny little pub and drank Guinness there. We spent a fair amount of time walking to save on taxi and bus fares, and Jo pointed out interesting little spots along the way.
That night, Tall and I went out for dinner in Temple Bar, famous for cobbled streets, a lively nightlife…and tourists. The meal was average (so much so that I have no recollection of what we ate), and in the early hours of the next morning, Tall had the worst case of food poisoning possible.
Needless to say, we spent the rest of our time in Dublin at Jo’s flat – Tall was in no condition to go anywhere, and we were flying out that night so were hoping he would recover in time. He did, thankfully, but spent the rest of the week recovering, and has some not-particularly-fond memories of our one and only trip to Ireland.