Dublin. My last stop. My first night in Dublin was rather uneventful, but I started off my first full day in Dublin with a bang—nice and early. After having a quick breakfast I switched hostels to one closer to the river and by the Temple Bar/Christchurch area. This was probably my second favorite hostel I stayed at, after Edinburgh. I then headed out on a walking tour that was filled with Spaniards on break (there were a TON of Spaniards in Dublin). The tour was all right, but I could tell the guide was new and wasn’t nearly informative as the one in Dublin. Needless to say, I still managed to see a lot of the sights as well get a pretty good lay out of the city where there were things I wanted to see. I have to say, I was pretty lazy in Dublin compared to how jam packed my days were in London and in Edinburgh; the traveling was beginning to catch up with me. Later that night, I watched the France versus Wales game of the 6 Nations Rugby Cup. Let me tell you, rugby was a serious business this weekend in Dublin and I totally get it. I think I might actually (gasp) prefer it to American football. Dublin proved to me how small of a world it really is since while watching the game I met a couple of people from the States that were studying in Spain. They happened to be at the UVA program in Valencia and first, knew several St. Norbert people, as well as a couple of them were from Michigan State (but from Detroit… I kept telling them I was from East Grand Rapids, not East Kentwood. There’s a difference). And finally the end of my night was translating between the two British girls in the hostel room, Jess and Sarah, to the several other French in the room trying to figure out if anyone had a cigarette (no one did). I was pretty glad to be speaking in French and actually holding a conversation. And (bonus), the French guy was very impressed that I had driven a manual car and that I could (attempt) to speak a second language.
My second day in Dublin is really nothing to write home about for the day. It was mostly me recapping what I saw the day before and that was it. That evening, the English played the Irish in the Six Nations Cup so I decided this would be the best time to go down to a local pub for a pint or two of Guinness, because… I just had to support the Irish team over the English. Ireland ended up winning the game and I have to say the reaction was a bit of a let down as there was more excitement during the game rather than afterwards. Even more later that night, I joined the two British girls and we went out to Temple Bar. Temple Bar is an area of Dublin that has a cultural center (the “birthplace” of U2 they claim) to it but it is also very well known for the bars around this area. The three of us ended up going out to several bars this night and what interesting people we met. I don’t know if I really preferred that to my relaxed, calm other bars, but it was sure an experience. There was some good music played, some horrible music played as well as a bit of Christmas music for some reason. Finally, the night ended around 4 AM when the girls of the room found our other Swiss roommates in the middle of Temple Bar Square and stumbled back to the room (them, not me… don’t worry).
I almost wish the two Swiss guys didn’t come simply because the lack of hostel etiquette. I mean, I think it’s basic knowledge that you don’t set your alarm for 7:45 AM and then allow it to have a snooze button all the way till 10 AM. One that just goes off every 15 minutes and almost made me want to chuck a shoe across the room. Not cool. My day ended up getting dramatically better when Kelsey, Alyssa and Mike arrived in Dublin. Yes, the same people from London. No, we didn’t know this when we planned our separate trips. We went around Temple Bar where we met up before heading over to St. Stephen’s Green (looked at a ton of sculptures), Gaffton Street, Irish Parliament and the Irish Natural History Museum before hitting O’Connell Street to walk past Trinity College and the glorious souvenirs shop. Later that night, we went out to dinner in Temple Bar in hopes of trying to find some traditional music in at least one of the bars. No such luck really, but there was some pretty good musicians in the streets. Always seems to be the case, I’ve found. After saying goodbye, I went back to my hostel for my last night there. I ended up spending a lot of time in the room talking to two other guys that were staying there—an ex-priest from Chicago who lived in Italy and now lives in Cork and a guy from Minnesota (it was a Midwest reunion). The ex-priest and I were talking about a lot of the cultural difference but also things that you don’t realize that you would miss, but actually do. Me: Ranch dressing and Dr. Pepper (which I found in the UK!) to name a few. Him: root beer and a bureaucracy that is understandable. I then mentioned that I went to St. Norbert and (surprise, surprise) he started jabbering on and on about how beautiful the campus is and about the old friends he had that taught there. If you can’t tell, the guy liked to talk.
On Monday, I war ready to leave. I made sure that I actually got a breakfast of something other than toast (a bagel with cream cheese and bacon) and headed to the Dublin airport. This is where things started to go downhill. I was forced to check my bag in with IKEA Airlines (aka RyanAir). I got in line early, so I manage to snag a window seat where I can lean my head against (bonus). And then… Brussels airport. So it says we arrive in Charles le Roi airport, but they’re missing “Sud” on the end. And I didn’t realize how far south we were. And there is only an hourly bus ride that comes to pick up stranded travelers at the airport to actually bring them into the city (never mind the sign that says there’s a bus to Lille… there isn’t). So I wait for the damn bus for a good half an hour before getting on the bus and driving another 45 minutes or so to get to Brussels-Midi. Now, I know it’s kind of late after waiting for the bus and then the bus ride but it doesn’t quite hit me how late it is until the ticket man tells me that there are no more trains back to Lille for tonight and the ticket window is closed for the night. I’d have to stay the night in the train station until the ticket window opened and I could buy the ticket and catch the change. Oh, but the Catch-22 here was that I might be kicked out since to stay in the train station I’d have to have a ticket…but they weren’t going to sell me a ticket. It was a risk I was going to have to take. So I called Dan to let him know to email my mom telling her I wouldn’t be home that night. And what a long night I thought it was going to be! Luckily (and THANK YOU soooo much, Dan and Barb!), Dan and Barb booked me a room at a hotel for the night so there was no chance of getting kicked out of the Brussels train station in the middle of the night. Sure, I got more than lost on the way to the hotel. I might have been crying my eyes out because once I got to the hotel, I couldn’t get the (side) doors to open and the fact that I didn’t know how to work the elevator at first freaked me out… but by this time I was tired and sick of traveling. That bed (a big, nice, fluffy hotel bed) never looked so good and I thoroughly enjoyed my last night away from Lille. Thanks again, Dan and Barb! Relatives in Europe = Total Blessing
The trip back to Lille from Brussels the next day was relatively painless, carefree and quick. Thank goodness.
Why, Yes It Does!: Guinness in Ireland does taste different...better. You choose the better adjective.
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