The Lone Rover

To pub. Definitely that.

Well, this is a carryover from last night’s escapades. I was just too lazy/tired/computer was dead to write it last night.

Ireland is known for their pubs. They have a lot of them. And people here like to drink in them. They drink beer.

By no means was last night my first venture forth into the pub-scene, but I finally visited multiple and had a few pictures to put up.

We started off at an authentic “Irish” pub, or at least Chris described it to me as such, J. Grogan’s Castle Lounge (called by the Irish, the castle lounge, HAHA, sucks to suck Chris). It’s super hard to explain the feeling of a pub though. It was dark, small tables with some carpet that I’m sure had been there since the start of the century. Even a glass mosaic picture of the pub itself. We were the only Americans in the pub, and everyone around was engaged in conversation, of which I could understand hardly any due to thick accents. Two pints of authentic Guinness were ordered, and thoroughly enjoyed.

Any Guinness you get in the state will never match up to one on tap in Ireland. Not only does the beer flavor falter when traveling long distances, they’re never poured correctly in the states. The proper way to pour a stout is in two pulls from the tap. The first you fill the glass about half-full, let it settle, and then pour the remainder. This will keep a perfect head on the pint.

Anyways, we went to an Italian restaurant to grab a bit to eat. Where all the cooking staff and waiters spoke Italian. Tasty pizza con funghi e prosciutto for my brother and a gnocchi romani for myself. With a carafe of the house red, of course.

Then our adventures took us to a more indie/hipster pub, by my brother’s definition, The Globe. I knew I was at home when Modest Mouse was playing as we walked in.

I took a few pictures, but it was fairly dark, so they didn’t turn out so well:

That was a pint of Hoegaarden. I wish I could stress just how damn large that glass actually was. If you haven’t had that belgian beer, I’d recommend it.

To try and capture all the taps was even more difficult with the funky lighting that they emitted, but I tried nonetheless, and am posting it even though it looks pretty shit (notice they have two taps for guinness (the other place has 3-4) to deal with the two-part pour):

After our pints here we moseyed on over to another pub, Against the Grain, that specializes in microbrews around Ireland. I got Brewdog’s 5 a.m. saint. It was a very tasty beer. And went very well with our matches of Connect 4 and Guess Who? we played while enjoying our pints.

On the way out of the city we stopped by one more pub that Chris assured me was similar to Spider House (my favorite coffe shop/bar in Austin). But their outside patio was all closed up, so we decided to catch a bus and head back to Bray.

Well, the bus ride back was entertaining. A flock of drunk teenage girls got on being overly-rowdy and were messing with some Irish lad behind us (I’m pretty sure they were also mocking my accent, but I couldn’t understand them due to their own thick Irish one’s), who we talked to for the rest of the ride.

Learned a very valuable lesson about the violent nature of football fans here in Ireland. Apparently threatening some England fans during the world cup can earn you some free pints from the barkeep. 

— With love

So after I wake up and we (being Chris, Polly and I) have some lunch, we decide to walk up to Kilruddery estate in Bray. It’s a manor about 2-3 km from Polly’s house. Since it’s raining and windy, it ends up taking a good 40 minutes to walk all the way there, just to find out that it’s closed until April.

Anyways, I snapped a picture from the gate:

People still live there. Can you imagine that? How fancy would you feel to live in that house and be surrounded by beautiful gardens? It would indeed suck to have people wanting to come and snoop around all the time, so I completely understand them closing for a few months during the holidays.

So Cary came and picked us up (took her maybe 3 minutes by car) and then dropped the Oph and I off at the train station for us to catch a train into Dublin.

We got off at Trinity University (where my bro went to school), and I even remembered the building his old flat was in. My sense of direction and memory both (are horrible but also) contributed to this vast achievement. SO FUCKING PROUD.

Anyways, here are some quick snapshots of the University (sorry about the construction):

(Here we have the biomedical research building (the big one) next to the on-campus pub (the yellow one), that’s the Irish for you. Though I can completely vouch for biomedical research driving one to drink. Also my comment to my brother: “Are they researching alcoholism?” hilarious, I know, please hold your applause.)

Well, after that I was getting peckish, so we split a Cornish Pasty (meat, onions potatoes in a pastry shell, also a funny word):

And then we went shopping! I had to pick up some random things and I’ll spare you the boring details, but I’m very happy with my purchase of Long-Johns. I’m done with underwear that doesn’t go past my knees! Being as cold-natured as I am, that additional layer is going to be fantastic.

Now that everyone is informed as to my underwear situation, let me share some other various pictures I took. As a warning, I found it very difficult to take a picture that could actually capture the certain ambience of the areas I was in. For me to really grasp an environment I need to have the visual stimuli, but I also need the sounds, the smells, and the energy of the people. So these photos definitely failed for me in that regards, but that’s what I was going for with some of the street shots.

I believe this is the street right outside the alleyway where we got the pasties (lol, pasties):

Grafton St., renowned for their shops by tourists and Dubliners alike:

Remember the Alamo! (just had to take a picture):

Occupy Gain Street, with the Irish National Bank in the background):

Here we have the sign for Pablo Picante’s California Burrito Bar:

And inside, the PBR aptly labeled “Hipster beer” (sorry for the blurry picture, Broseidon lord of the Broceans took it):

And this is an entryway to a building, try to guess what kind of building:

Answer: It’s a shopping mall. And not a necessarily high-class one. Sure they had some fancy looking stores, but they also had a pub called the Pyg (short for Pygmalion) that’s famous for it’s techno dance floor. They seriously converted part of a massive, centuries-old manor in downtown Dublin into a Techno-Pub. It must be nice to be so accustomed to that much historic opulence that you want to be reminded of it as you drunkenly & sweatily grind on some equally drunk and sweaty chick.

— Good day sir!…[old man rant]… I SAID GOOD DAY!

Today was the first time we spent time in Dublin. Both the brosephus and Polly had work, so I was all by lonesome in the big bad city. They have a flat in a neighborhood 20 min outside the center of Dublin, so when they headed into work that’s where I start my day.

So, I did what any respectable person in a new city should do: aimlessly walk around.

After about a 1-2 hour stroll (no camera on me = no pictures) around their neighborhood, I head back in and lay down for a nap that turned into a sleep of sorts, then worked for a bit on madness for the Wheel, then head back into the city to meet up with them as they got off of work and head out for somewhere to eat.

We ended up at the Exchequer, a gastropub (fancy pub-food basically) at the tail end of Grafton St (a main road of shops/some restaurants in the city center).

Now this was one tasty meal. And as a warning to those who don’t know me very well: I take my food very seriously. So to say it’s tasty is somewhat of an understatement in regard to the normal colloquialism.

Chris’ dish:

Oven roasted whole partridge with celeriac puree, toasted chestnuts, smoked bacon, fondant potato and a thyme & lemon butter sauce.

My dish (I wasn’t feeling all that adventurous, but man was it good):

Chargrilled rib eye steak with champ (mashed potatoes w/ green onions), green beans, and a mustard & sage butter.

Polly’s dish:

Cherry smoked bacon and cabbage with mustard, potato croquette, sweet potato puree, black pudding and apple chutney. As you can see, it was served in a de-contrsucted style on a cutting board.

They were all phenomenal dishes, but I’ll let you decide which one looks the best.

I’m tired and going to bed. Tomorrow will hopefully be a busy day of sightseeing, good food, and additional nothingness.

— May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.

So, I forgot to mention anything about the actual surprise (Thanks Pam for reminding me). Probably because it happened during my sleep deprived stupor, but whatever. That means it’s now storytime!

 So after I landed in the Dublin airport, I took a bus to Bray, where my brother and Polly had been staying with Polly’s Mom, Cary, for the holidays. The plan that was worked out involved me just showing up at the house and knocking on the door.

I realized this was a poor plan because I would be carrying three bags (one full of presents from the states) and didn’t particularly want to walk the 1.5 miles form the bus stop to the house.

So Cary was kind enough to offer to pick me up from the busstop. Meanwhile, to make things just as difficult as possible (I imagine that was his motivation), Chris decided he want to go on a walk about an hour before my bus was going to arrive. Polly went with him, and as soon as they were out the door, Cary raced down to the busstop to pick me up.

On the way back to the house, we were worried about driving past them on their way home, or arriving to the house the same time they were. So we left the luggage in the car and raced indoors. 

All the panic was all for naught because Polly had managed to stall Chris and take a larger loop than first thought to buy some time.

Eventually we got it set up perfectly.

I was sitting on the couch in the living room, with Cary sitting at an angle to try to capture his reaction on camera. Eventually they walk in the door and Cary calls them in.

It took Chris about 5-10 seconds to process who I was sitting on the couch, his face displayed a clear expression of “What the fuck is going on?” the whole time. I was just sitting there smiling the whole time.

So Polly’s surprise worked without a hitch, Chris had absolutely no idea I was coming (even though my Gramps mentioned I would be coming when my brother called him for X-mas, I’m assuming Chris just passed it off as senility though…), and she managed to even get me to the house without him noticing to be able to surprise him. Major props to Polly!

Photo of the reaction:

— Ciao!

peck·ish (‘pekiSH) adj. — somewhat hungry.

Or an in the mood for a snack kind of hungry, but by no means a meal sort of hungry; as it was described for me by Polly & her mum (I was incredulous as to why they needed an additional word for hungry). 

So, we stopped in a grocery store on our walk around Bray. We needed to pick up some milk.

Through my travels it’s become a hobby of mine to stop in grocery stores whenever I visit a different country. It’s always entertaining to see how entirely different they are from American ones.

So by far the most hilarious part was that they had different types of potatos, and I’m not talking just the usual russet, yukon, or new potatoes, like 6-8 different additional kinds.

Anyways, I’ve always heard that Irish folk like their tea. It’s true (and that’s just one brand):

Paired with tea, the Irish love a good biscuit. But don’t let their name fool you, they’re just cookies. They do have quite a big selection to choose from, and not just any of that chips-ahoy oreos nonsense:

Well as a last one that made me laugh, I present Doritos (though the name of the American versions sound way better, so I’ll stick with some god damn bacon fries):

— Carry on (my wayward son).

So I woke up around noon (16 fantastic hours of sleep), and Chris had already headed off to work for the day. Polly and I decided that we would go for a walk around Bray so I could see the city and get out of the house for a bit.

We started off going to the seafront. 

It was an entirely rock beach, and there were tons of people out walking around. Today is a bank holiday in Ireland, which means a lot of people had the day off, and probably looking to walk off some of their holiday feastings.

Polly was telling me about this hotel, “The Bray Head” — named after a mountain nearby, that apparently has furniture in it from when they first opened, about 100 years ago. Sadly it also has the same heating system (i.e. none).

Then we headed in a bit more mainland:

A church of Ireland. Complete with original Irish Cross.

And the sign down the road, in both Gaelic and English.

Here we have the quintessential Irish house, complete with car that matches the shrubbery.

And to end us off, a pretty shitty picture of part of Bray and the coast. Can’t win ‘em all.

— May the Force be with you.

Well, I’ve safely arrived in Ireland and gotten caught up on my sleep, but I wanted to say a few words about my 5 hour layover in Schiphol, the Amsterdam Airport.

This place is awesome.

Easily the best airport I have ever been in.

I spent my time just walking around and seeing all that this place has to offer. From a casino to a meditation center, this place has it all. I spent my most time at an exhibit called the “Schiphol Library” in which they had iPads set up with videos and photos from the various museums, the street life, cuisine, and other activities all throughout Amsterdam. The Library also had different books of artists and photographers with works from Dutch authors.

Not to mention the wild architecture of shops and things around the airport. Everything was just completely different than things you’d see in America. I was saving my phone’s battery, and sadly didn’t take any photos myself. Click the little thing below for a photo I found on the google. It’s a cheese shop named “Say cheese” next to the aptly named “House of Tulips”.

I was worried that I’d fall asleep if I sat down for too long, so a large part of my time was just wandering around the airport. I played a game with myself of trying to guess where certain groups of travelers were from based on their appearance, and used their language as an answer key. I was horrible at it. I did learn from that Americans stick out like sore thumbs.

First, there’s the fact that we dress significantly worse than everyone else, but we also hold ourselves differently. But also, the way an American walks and pays attention to the crowd is just fundamentally different from everyone else. I can’t describe it, and I may only have noticed it because I hold myself in a similar way, but it’s there.

So, I came to the conclusion that everyone should get out and travel the world as much as possible. Easier said than done, of course, but if I managed to pick up this much form walking around an airport, just imagine what someone who has never left Texas (I personally know plenty) could gain.

—Bye for now

I’m currently traveling at 628 mph at an altitude of 36,029 ft, roughly 1 hr and 28 min (734 mi) from Amsterdam. Which means I should be arriving at around 12:23am Texas time (just barely missed the new years!). 

This will hopefully serve as a good test entry for this crazy tumblr thing I’m trying out to document my Irish travels. But since I’m writing it from a giant metal tube, don’t expect any cool pictures just yet. I wanted to have something written out to try and get up to the website once in Ireland, and seeing as I’ll be pushing 2 full days with only 5 hours of sleep before that, I doubt I’ll be in the mood to write much of anything, much less anything coherent.

This plane I’m on is pretty awesome. It’s a KLM-run 747, and it’s a double decker plane! There is a staircase right as you come inside the plane, but sadly you weren’t able to see what was up there (and I wasn’t feeling ballsy enough to make a run for it). So who knows what mysteries lie aboard this vessel.

This has been the first international trip I’ve been on in a while, and I’ll tell you what, the in-flight entertainment has really improved. They had a collection of probably a hundred movies to choose from, 33e different tv shows, hundreds of CD’s (which included a few cd’s I actually listened too), a dozen audiobooks, interactive language programs (pero no trabajan bien), and 10 or so little games. And you know the little interactive map they have showing where your plane is on the globe? It got a bit more in-depth, so I know that if I were to jump out in about 5 minutes with a parachute on, I would probably touch down right outside of Dublin, well at least my freezing corpse would (since it’s -45 F).

I spent my time doing the same things I’ve been doing these past couple of weeks, which is listening to music and reading on my kindles . For what it’s worth, which is a whole fucking lot, this is now the blog of Delta flight KL662’s in-flight Tetris champion. I still got it.

Alright, well I’m going to wrap this up because it looks like they’re starting to pass out breakfast and I don’t want to miss out on the wonderful meal in store (that was sarcasm, airline food still sucks). I am curious if they have mimosas as well, free booze on international flights has been a major plus.

While this may have been a fairly lame way to celebrate new year’s eve, I’m sure being in Ireland will in turn be much better than any parties I may have missed. Optimism!

—Toodles

p.s. They did end up doing a countdown for new years, and then passed out champagne to everyone. If only I had some o.j. the mimosas could have been mine!

Alright, let’s give my audience a bit of background information about why in hell their beloved author is traveling, and documenting, his travels to Ireland.

Well, there is no reason for documenting anything besides writing this will amuse myself, and for the couple of people (my parents) interested in my travels, this is way easier than writing a bunch (2) of individual stories/emails.

My brother (referred to as: Chris, Opher, the Oph, my broseph, the Brosephus, C-$ [pronounced C-money],  or Broseidon lord of the Broceans (I can’t take credit for that last one, but it’s so awesome I had to put it in))  is currently living in Ireland. He studied abroad at the Trinity College Dublin for his Junior year of college, and met a special someone. So after graduating in the Spring of 2010 from University of Chicago, he moved back across the sea to be with his girlfriend, Polly.

He’s been working some part-time job in a Walmart-like establishment, and they scheduled him to work a lot over the holidays so he would not be able to make it back to the States for Christmas. Polly had the great idea that I could come and surprise him for New Year’s since it’s been quite a few months since I’ve had contact with him, let alone seen him.

So my Christmas present was a plane ticket to Dublin, and the rest is history (well, it will be whenever I get all of the entries up).