Anyway, we headed to the airport by train, which is a very smooth ride by the way, and checked in. We ran over when they announced the gate, because seats are first-come, first-serve, but still had to wait in a long line. Checking bags are another way they try to make up their money, so we made the decision before leaving, that we would travel to our other destinations carrying just backpacks. The attendants still made us put our bags into a box to make sure they were small enough. The front pocket of my bag was so full it got stuck, but fortunately the lady was distracted while I swore under my breath and pried it out.
We arrived in Dublin after only an hour, and noticed a bunch of people outside the airport. They were all rowdy, with flags and matching yellow and blue jumpers (yes, that is a british-ism). We found out later that they were French, and had turned out to root on their rugby team. I was actually surprised that Frenchmen get riled up like that - you hear they're snooty and rude, and then find out they're normal people. Didn't see that coming. The Irish fans had white flags and clothing.
My impression on the bus to Dublin, was that the city was actually a bit worn down. It didn't feel all that "Irishey" to me - could have been any city really. I'm not sure what I expected, more rolling hills I suppose, but we would need to leave town to see those. Maybe on our next trip. Anyway, we walked for what felt like ages, until we arrived at our hostel, which was near the center of town. Our beds in the hostel were on the very top floor, and I don't think we ever climbed those stairs with less than a pint of guinness in us - it got tiring. The large room where we would be staying held 20 beds, but was split into little cubicles of 4 beds each. Funnily, the 4th person in our cubicle would turn out to be from Colorado Springs! Small world.
Well, we headed out for a late lunch. I take that back - first we went into a very sketchy pub with 10-15 locals, and nervously drank our first guinnesses. I don't know if we enjoyed those as much as ones we'd drink later, because we were overwhelmed and being stared at. Then we really needed to eat. We tried to limit ourselves to something authentic, but eventually caved when we smelled the sweet aroma of pizza. We went inside, and laughed as we noticed that the flavors offered were East Indian (curry and other spices), but the visual theme was American Indian. Would the people of Ireland really not notice the difference? Were they just too lazy to figure out what American Indians would put on pizza (the answer being: buffalo and corn)? We took photos.
Next, we wandered around and did a bit of sight-seeing, and I pushed for a little shopping. However, despite it being a Friday when you'd think people would be out and about, all of the shops closed between 5-6! So most of the places were closing their doors. Cole said that Britian was the same way. It didn't matter what kind of job you had, 5:00 is quitting time. I like that policy, and yet I like shopping after work. Tricky. I didn't mind much though, because all of these stores were international, and I can go to a mall in the US. We decided to throw in the towel and go to another pub. Which I think, is also the national policy of Britian and Ireland.
We each had another pint of Guinness, and then got around to asking some people where we could watch the game. The 2 women we talked to suggested Sinnick, where the downstairs was filled with big screens. We found our way to the pub, and it was definitely the place to watch the game. It was packed with fans, and the excited mood was infectious. We (especially I) didn't understand all the rules of rugby, but were impressed by things like: a tackle would occur, and 10 men would be piled on top of each other, and yet the play would continue! Somehow, someone always seemed to get the ball and just keep running! We saw how they lifted a man up to catch he ball when it was thrown in from the border line, how they did a "scrum" where they huddled up and tried to push the other team, and learned that you can pass backwards but kick forwards.
Due to all the guinness, I took a trip to the bathroom. Each one had an attendant. Ours was talking on her cellphone when I finished washing my hands, and handed me a couple squares of toilet paper. As I tried to swipe the tiny pieces off, I made the decision to save the Euro in my pocket for someone else. I still feel guilty for not tipping.
The game went on, and we were extremely excited when the Irish team won by 1 point - despite the French team being favored to win! The bar erupted in shouts. By this time, we were pretty amped up, and decided to continue our night of fun with a dance place. Ben got out-voted on this decision. We ended up at a place called "Club War." One of their gimmicks was to put war paint on you if you so desired - and we did obviously. We eventually found out that it was GLS night, but that made it all the more fun - great dancing and crazily dressed people to watch. We danced the night away, and then on our way back to the hostel, picked up late-night gyros at "Abra-kababra."
I jumped in the shower when we got back to the Hostel, since I was sure the bathroom would be crazy the next morning. We decided we would sleep in the next day - little did we know that Hostels are a terrible place for sleeping. Even though that's their whole function ;)
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