honeymoon, day three

It was Wednesday, June 13. I awoke to daylight streaming through our window at Camden Court Hotel and wondered what time it was. Flipping on the television, I found the BBC and the clock read 5:40 am. That can't be right, I thought. It's too light outside to be that early. The time must be different in England. I called down to the wake-up call service and asked for a wake-up call around 9:00 (I think) so we wouldn't miss breakfast. Then I asked what time it was at the moment. "Twenty of six, miss," the man on the other end of the line said. England and Ireland were on the same time, then. It was just really, really bright. I pulled the curtains shut and went back to sleep. I was later to find out that, coming so close to time for the summer solstice as we were, we were hitting Ireland in its longest hours of daylight. It didn't get dark until about 10:30 pm, and it got light again around 5:00 am. That's fine, but when you don't have a watch or clock to tell you what time it is when you wake up at night (as is my habit), it gets a little confusing to have so few hours of darkness.

When we did get up, Al and I went down and experienced our first "Irish Breakfast," with which we grew quite familiar over the next few days. Apparently, the Irish don't believe in much variety for breakfast. My suspicions about this were confirmed later in the trip by Al's cousin, Daragh, who said he wished they could get pancakes in Ireland. His mother, Patricia, explained that not many places make a big deal about breakfast. Our breakfast consisted of a continental breakfast bar--bread (with which you could make toast), croissants, scones (but heavier--more dense--than scones you get in bakeries over here--ours are more like desserts, theirs are more like rocks), fruit, and an assortment of cereals. Just your typical continental breakfast. But then there was the hot breakfast--fried or scrambled eggs, tomatoes cut in half and grilled, poached, or otherwise warmed up, sausage, hashbrowns, "pudding" (nothing like ours--I have no idea how you eat the stuff), oatmeal, and "rashers"--bacon that is thick slabs of chewy stuff. Nothing like the crispy bacon I love--what they call "streaky bacon." And the ever-present tea or coffee, of course (they seem to push the tea).

After breakfast, we set out to find a bus--the "Hop On Hop Off City Tour" bus with live commentary on all tours. It's just like it sounds--you pay one price (14 Euro, in our case) and for the next twenty-four hours, you can hop on and off the bus as you please. They go to all the major sites in Dublin and tell you about the city as you drive along. We picked up the bus around stop 9 of 21 stops, and decided to ride it through before getting off and going to Dublin Castle and then to the Guiness Warehouse. Al's cousin Patricia recommended the castle; we wanted the Guiness. As we boarded the bus, the driver said, "Upstairs," and up we went. It was raining, and only the first two rows of seats up top were covered. I'm sure it was uncovered to help with the picture-taking, but in Ireland, where it rains more than the sun shines, I'm not sure that was the wisest choice. We started to sit and someone else left, so we grabbed their dry seats and managed to stay minimally dry. And the commentary by our first bus driver was quite lively--he even sang songs in the midst of telling stories.

Before I get to Dublin Castle, let me tell you everything else we passed on doing since we only had limited time in Dublin: Trinity College, where they keep the Book of Kells (an old copy of part of the Bible that monks copied down and did some fancy artwork on); the Temple Bar district, which we actually walked through later that night, but Al and Patricia didn't want to get a drink because they thought it was too crowded and noisy--I thought it was excited and was very disappointed and a little bit bitter that we didn't get to stay (hey, it was my honeymoon, not his cousin's, but I didn't want to be rude, either); Christ Church Cathedral and St. Patrick's Cathedral; the museums; and this great-looking park called Phoenix Park on the outskirts of town.

There. Now, Dublin Castle. Dublin Castle was built around and over the remains of a Norman fortress, which itself was built over Viking defenses. It is currently the seat of Irish government--their presidents get inaugurated in St. Patrick's Hall within the castle--and it was the seat of British rule in Ireland when the Brits were in charge. It was a typical tour, walking through roped-off rooms that didn't allow you to see too much, but the tour guide did tell us an amusing story about the Lady Liberty statue above one if the castle gates. He said it is a joke to the Irish, since her back is facing the city--Lady Liberty faces in towards the castle and the seat of power for the government. In addition, she holds a pair of scales in one hand, and whenever it would rain (quite often, of course), the scales would fill with rain and tip. They have since rectified that problem by drilling holes in the bottom of the scales for the water to drain out. Third, though, I guess most statues of this sort either are blindfolded or have their eyes closed--a "liberty and justice for all" sort-of thing. Not this one. Her eyes are wide open.

After the castle, we hopped back on the bus and headed for the Guiness Warehouse and St. James Brewery. It is, of course, the typical tourist trap, but that doesn't make it any less fun. It's got seven stories, and you work your way through the warehouse on your own, story by story, until you reach the top. If you take the time, you can find out all about making stout (we didn't, although we read/watched some of the info/videos they had around). There is a waterfall, some huge old copper vats, a lot of the machinery that they used to make the stout from, some barrells with an informational video showing how they used to make them by hand and without measuring tools, a section for advertising, and even a floor where you can try your hand at pouring your own pint. The top floor is a circular bar, where you redeem a plastic blue ring for your very own pint and get to look out through glass walls on the city of Dublin. My bartender put a shamrock design in the foam on top of my Guiness.

Guiness didn't end the day for us; by the time we got out of there, it was only about 4:30. We hopped back on the bus and got caught in a traffic jam. The traffic in Dublin, by the way, is horrific. Narrow streets, double-decker busses, hundreds of small cars, motorcycles, bikes, and pedestrians--and they all cram up next to each other, get in each other's way, and act like they're the only ones on the roads. We hopped off the bus early and took a walk towards the area we were going to meet Patricia for dinner, and as we did so, we walked through the hotel owned by Bono (U2), The Clarence Hotel. It, and the bar within it, The Octagon, were a bit of a disappointment. Pretty small and pretty dead. It was a Wednesday afternoon, though, and expensive since Bono got his hands on it. Right after that was our first pass through the Temple Bar district, and there were so many cute little pubs with flowers set on the second-floor window sills. It was picture-perfect with the brick streets, pedestrians, and all of the color--but I didn't take a picture. I was sure we'd come back, and we did--for about two seconds, not quick enough for a pic, nevermind a pint. Ugh.

We met Patricia at a French restaurant called Sixty-6 (something like that) and experienced our first uber-expensive meal in Ireland. I was a bit surprised when Al said we were going French--here we were in Ireland, and all I wanted was fish and chips. I knew I wasn't getting that at a French restaurant, but that's okay. I knew I would make do, and I did. I had veal milanese (it was huge) and Al and Patricia both had sirloin steaks with fries. And here an obsession started: they served the fries in buckets with garlic mayo. I knew the french ate fries with mayo instead of ketchup, and used to eat them like that with Julie, but hadn't done it in a while. But after those fries and that mayo--both scrumptious--I craved mayo with fries for the rest of the trip. I never got garlic mayo again, but no more ketchup for me. I'm a mayo fan.

I know I keep talking about food, but I don't really remember much about our conversation with Patricia. We told her what we wanted to do/see while we were there and she flat-out said we wouldn't be able to do it all, and I was a bit miffed. Don't tell me what I can and can't do on my honeymoon! Especially if it's because we have to see more family in the middle of the week and they aren't located in a convenient spot for the rest of what we wanted to do! Of course, I didn't say this, and I tried not to have too much of my disappointment show with Al later, either. I did remind him, though, that this was our honeymoon--yeah, his family was here, but it wasn't a family vacation. I wanted time alone with him, and I wanted to do what we wanted, not what the family thought we should do. I know, I'm sounding selfish right now, but it all worked out great in the end, and I love his family, so don't be too hard on me. That's just what I felt at the time.

We decided to get a drink with Patricia after dinner, but that was already after we had walked halfway to our hotel. I mentioned that I liked Temple Bar district, so off we went. But I already told you what happened there: we entered one pub, walked all the way through it, and Al and Patricia decided it was too crowded and too noisy to visit so we walked right back out and away from Temple Bar district. Grrr. I tried to calm myself down by telling myself that after we dropped off Patricia, we could go back. But we walked and bussed all the way back to our hotel, Al and I had beers while she had a lemon soda, I felt pressured to make a decision (by them) about what we were going to do with the remainder of our trip (which I didn't want to discuss in front of Patricia), and then Patricia went to the bus to go back to her car, all the way on the opposite side of Dublin. ??? Why didn't we just walk her towards her car and then have a pint? Don't know. I thought her car was by our hotel, and that was a misunderstanding. Didn't get to go back to Temple Bar district, but we did spend quite a while on the internet and figured out what we would do for the rest of the trip, which you'll have to wait to find out, because after we were finished, we fell into bed, exhausted...

Photo 1: Al and I on steps in a curtain wall at the Undercroft, underneath Dublin Castle. The Undercroft is a chamber with ruins dating back to Viking and Norman times (900 - 1200 A.D.).

Photo 2: Al and I in St. Patrick's Hall, Dublin Castle.

Photo 3: Al and I in the top floor of Guiness Warehouse. Behind us is a view of Dublin (not a mural).

Photo 4: A shamrock in my Guiness.