Arrival Dinner

So, my adventure with the bus from Dublin airport was not as fool-proof as I had hoped.  The Dublin bus system is horrendous.  This is their big tourist transit bus, and no stops were called out, the screen in the front of the bus said nothing informative, and it was good luck that I got a bus that actually listed the most common points of interest near each stop. 

What I mean to say is that I missed my stop. 

The next stop was the end of the line, and I was able to leap off the bus and grab the returning one, and convince the driver to let me go one stop back.  But nothing is ever easy in life, and I am trying not to start out my experience in Europe as an Asshole American.  He lets me know that this is my stop, so I get up and gather my things, while he lets people on the bus.  He talks at some length to two Spanish women about getting to and from the airport, and then he pulls away.

I'M STILL ON THE BUS.  I ask him to stop, and he says, "I let seven people on this bus and you didn't get off?"  And all I could say was sorry, I was waiting for people to stop coming on, but what I was thinking was that in America, you let the people departing the bus off before you let more people on the bus.  And/or you look to see if anyone (with a giant backpack, and purse and a massive suitcase) got off, and/or you make sure the one person who definitely needed to get off at this stop, gets off at this stop.

I guess all bus drivers are cut from the same cloth.  We have these unsympathetic jackasses in Seattle too.

Anyway, I ran into some helpful Philadelphian-turned-Dubliners, who pointed me over the bridge to my hostel, where I checked in entirely without incident.  There are 8 girls in my room (one has a late flight in), and it was fairly packed with lady body parts and accoutrements.  There are four bunk beds, and I'm on a top bunk by the door.  I have claimed every hook behind the door as mine.  It's a hostel, so it's not magic or anything, but the rooms are clean and big, with high ceilings, tall windows and wood floors.  I have yet to see anyone over the age of 25, but they might be holed up in one of the private rooms.

Initially when I was asked if I wanted to go drink before the welcome dinner, I said no.  But I thought that seemed a bit boring of me, so I went, and the 6 girls in our room ended up finding several more girls and three boys, so the now 11 of us took to the narrow sidewalks of Dublin in search of somewhere to get a Guinness.

Which was of course, perfectly easy.  We found one, and Will (the sheep guy) said he got a weird vibe, so we followed Tanner through this Polish street fair and into a satisfactory pub called Badbob's.  It was also filled with Poles who were singing really cool harmony songs and clapping.  There is a large Polish population because of the Celtic Tiger, dot com thing, and Poles came to replace young Dubliners in the low wage jobs.  So now they have street festivals.

I had a half pint of Guinness with black currant (as instructed), and luckily Guinness is a filling not a spilling kind of drink, because I hadn't really eaten anything since that ham and cheese croissant at 10:30.  I was a little warm headed, but ok as we headed off to get another Gunness at that pub that we had initially rejected.

In the rejected and unrejected pub, we found a three man stag party in progress, in which the lucky stag was made to wear a leprechaun costume.  He was an extremely drunk leprechaun, and when he and his friend wanted to have a drinking contest with Will and Alex, the barkeep cut him off.

Meanwhile, Lauren (my new buddy, who is also a teetotaler and a non-Greek) and I were cornered by the third wheel, an Englishman they found in the extras for Monty Python.  Everything about him was wonderfully English -- sweater, skinny jeans, Matt Smith hair style -- and he said he loved Americans for their personalities and their good teeth, and that he had all his out a few years ago.  Also, he hates Canadians, apparently.  He said he had had 12 pints of Guinness today, and shouldn't be standing up.

About this time, the stag was being cut off by the barkeep, so he was collecting his friends to leave.  He said hello to Lauren and I, hugged and kissed us, and left.  That's how a leprechaun makes an exit.

We all reassembled at the hostel, and found Leta for our meeting before dinner.  Leanna had to quit the trip because she broke her foot the week before, and Toto and Zoe and Emmaline and Marnie (the student advisor) would be arriving over the evening and next day.  We were given our 50 euro allowance for the beginning of the trip, with no promise for when we will be paid again (so be frugal!), and took of for The Brazen Head.

The Brazen Head is the oldest pub in Ireland, founded in 1180.  It is very quaint, and it looks like they variously attempted to wall in greater and greater sections of the street corner on which it was constructed.  There are several interior walls that appear to have once served as exterior.  I have pictures, which will make it even cuter.

At dinner, we took up two large tables, and reintroduced ourselves.  We had a two course supper of tomato and basil soup (or a Greek salad), and one of four quintessential entrees: beef stew, fish and chips, chicken breast wrapped in bacon, or bangers and mash.  I started with the stew, which was thick, tomato-ey and delicious.  I also had a piece of chocolate fudge cake, which was good because it was a dry crumbly cake with frosting that wasn't too sweet.  Unlike the moist, sugary cakes in America, it was actually a really pleasant finish to dinner.  Could have used some milk though.

Everyone else was gearing up to go party, and I didn't want to, so when we got back to the hostel, I came and took a shower, and wrote home to my family.  I am completely alone in this hostel room, but it is very comfortable and I don't mind being alone for a while after all the people and tight spaces I've been in recently.

I would like to think that it would be fun drinking with the rest of the group, but alcohol is expensive (in general, in Europe, and particularly in Temple Bar, where they ply the artsy, college student type for every cent they have).  And Lauren and I have decided to be non drinkers together, and it is always easier not to drink when someone else is doing it with you.  A half pint sets me back about 3 euros 50, which is much better than the 5 euros 20 that everyone else is paying.  The other nice thing is that when we go to dinner with Leta, she pays for everything but our drinks.  So I had a piece of cake instead of more alcohol, and I still came out on top.  I'm making myself keep track of how much I"m spending so that I can go to college this fall.