Hooker, Turd & Tree

I figure with such an abrasive title, I should probably get to the point quickly. These are Irish terms, well the first one is. “Turd” and “tree” are cheeky plays on the Irish accent.

Firstly, a hooker is a traditional fishing boat in Galway, Ireland. Why, what were you thinking? The lot of us Australians and Americans burst out laughing when our Galway tour guide casually mentioned “hooker.” Of course, she threw in an innuendo or two just to get us going.

Secondly, “turd” is how “third” sounds with the Irish accent. I heard it a lot over my week-long Ireland vacation. “This is my turd attempt at locating the Blarney Stone.”

By the same token, “tree” is also how “three” sounds with an Irish accent. “You all have tree minutes to make it back to the bus before we leave.” Just so y’all don’t think I’m crazy, here is an Irish math joke.

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FYI: Drinking 5 euro wine out of an apple juice bottle and water bottle is classier than drinking directly out of the wine bottle.

Magical, enchanting, awesome – those words don’t quite cut it. My week in Ireland involves cliché after cliché: eye opening, awe inspiring, character building, once-in-a-lifetime stuff. I would do it all over again if given the chance.

I had the opportunity to explore, dine and drink (definitely too much). I traveled to gorgeous towns, indulged in some of the best-tasting Irish food and enjoyed lots of Guinness. And I mean A LOT of Guinness.

Overzealous travelers will glorify continent hopping. Truthfully, most people who’ve traveled will praise the freedom and euphoria of visiting a new country. There was nothing familiar about Ireland; nothing reminded me of home. It’s all crisp Atlantic air, mountains of emerald green, jagged stone fencing and traditional Irish houses.

I loved every second I was on The Emerald Isle. I confess: I didn’t want to leave. Our first night in Dublin we, of course, went to a pub to sample authentic Guinness and munch on fish and chips. Armed with Manny’s blue pen (BTW I don’t like blue pen) and my pocket-sized journal, I bled my heart onto the paper in my chicken scratch. Diary entry (14/2):

“…I’m in love. I have never been happier my entire life. I am genuinely so happy. I can’t think of a more comprehensive word. Ecstatic? Joyous? Elated? …Despite it being my first night, maybe notch it up to a honeymoon phase? I’ll never forget this as long as I live: I spent my Valentine’s Day in Dublin, Ireland.”

Forgive the choppiness. I had a few Guinness while I was writing in my diary. Could you tell that I was happy? I mean…I was really happy. In all honestly, that was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had – a night at J.W. Sweetman, drinking beer and listening to an Irish folk band.

My Irish Adventure – Leprechauns, Fairies and All

Saturday, February 13. We were to depart at Oh Nine Thirty Five the next day. Get plenty of rest; ensure everything is packed and ready to go. Nah, what were we doing instead? The three of us were on a train to Birmingham for All Time Low’s Back to the Future Hearts Tour with Good Charlotte and Against the Current.

The concert was awesome. I’m not a huge fan of the punk band, but I could belt out a handful of their songs. It was my first time in a mosh pit. What an experience that was – a cesspool of drunk, delusional fans. It was loads of fun; I’ll definitely mosh again. I did Google mosh pits before I went to the concert and let’s just say I’ll make sure to avoid any heavy metal bands. I don’t think I’ll ever be prepared for that.

I didn’t slip under the sheets until 2:30 a.m. and it wasn’t gracefully. I flopped onto my bed, fully clothed, and passed out. I woke up a few hours later (thankfully I set my alarm) covered in drool and smeared lipstick.

We made it to the Chester Station for 8:35, suitcases in tow. We left early enough to eat breakfast and still catch our Holyhead train. My Costa breakfast consisted of a caramelized onion and cheese toastie, Americano and blueberry muffin – delicious!

It was quite an eventful train ride to Holyhead. We talked for the entire two-hour journey. No one popped in headphones to drain the others out. Oh, the conversations we had! Somehow we slid onto the topic of wishes. I think it was a segue from Robin Williams playing the genie in Aladdin.

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We passed through the Wales town with the longest name – Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwyll-llantysiliogogogoc

 

Manny’s 3 wishes:

  1. Money

  2. Ability to speak any language

  3. Ability to play any instrument

Cassidy’s 2 wishes because she couldn’t decide on a third:

  1. Money

  2. Ability to speak any language

Sam’s 3 wishes (speaking in third person for parallelism):

  1. Money

  2. Ability to speak any language

  3. Prodigious Martial arts skill

^^ Fascinating stuff, eh? Just riveting.

 

We were on our way to frickin’ Ireland! We all expressed our excitement differently. Me? I couldn’t stop smiling. I had a shit-eating grin plastered on my face for nearly four hours. I’m not kidding. I was giddy with excitement, well…that’s until we boarded the 51-ton, 12-deck ferry of death. After arriving in Holyhead, we figured we had to catch a taxi to reach the port. Fortunately, the port was attached to the rail station. We decided we needed to take pictures and dance. So we did…we danced in the middle of the Holyhead train station.

[ Cassidy developed the idea to record us dancing everywhere we travel. She’ll make a video to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’s And We Danced (the song begins at 1:26 if you don’t want to listen to the intro). ]

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Unfortunately, there was no way I was going to magically teleport to Dublin, so I had to go on the ferry. The Ulysses was gigantic. As I said before, it’s a 51-ton, 12-deck ferry of death. As you can probably guess, I’m not a big fan of boats – I get incredibly nauseated.

Despite the Ireland-induced adrenaline pumping through my veins, I still became sick. Fortunately, I didn’t vomit. I just slept. The Ulysses cut through the strong Atlantic waves for over three hours. I managed to snuggle up on a couch, using my faux-leather purse as a pillow. I didn’t mind the metal buckles that dug into my face. I put in one earbud and listened to Islands in the Stream probably 50 times. We arrived in Dublin, Ireland. Our next task was to get to the hostel for a good night rest. Depending on how far you’re traveling, a bus is the best bet. It cost us €3 to get from the port to the city centre as compared to the €17.90 taxi fare on the way back. We must’ve been ripped off.

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DAY ONE: DUBLIN TO GALWAY

DUBLIN, IRELAND — Our first hostel, Abigail’s, did the job. It was a place to sleep. After a few drinks and dinner at J.W. Sweetman, we returned to our dorm. Cassidy and I were the only girls in a eight-man room. I slept above a guy from Germany. All of our hostel mates were in bed by 7 p.m., so they definitely didn’t appreciate us walking in at 10 p.m. We were buzzed. Our whispers rose to hushed shouts. In an effort to locate the bathroom light, we accidentally turned on the main light and awoke the hibernating beasts. I said screw it and slept in my jeans and t-shirt.

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Craft Coffee Roasters in Dublin, Ireland

I don’t think I moved an inch all night because my legs were rigor mortis stiff. My alarm blared to life at 5:30 a.m. I have a habit of setting my clock too early and hitting snooze every ten minutes for two hours. It’s just something I do. I guess I like to torture myself? We changed clothes and took a quick PTA bath. For those of you who don’t know what PTA stands for, let me enlighten you – pits, tits and ass.

I threw my clothes into my suitcase and didn’t even fold them. “Didn’t even fold them.” Did you hear that, Mom? We walked up and down Aston Quay four times, literally four times, trying to find somewhere to eat at 7:30 a.m. We finally settled for a small hotel café. I adore scones – cranberry, raisin, chocolate and plain – I love ’em all. The cup ‘o joe I had made me miss coffee in the States.

Finally, we made our way to the Four Courts Hostel where we met our tour guides, Kim and Bernie. Our nosy journalist instincts took over and we explored the hostel. We walked down the spiral staircase and found the perfect picture opportunity. POSE!

We opted for the Celtic Rocker tour optional add-ons: €12 to kiss the Blarney Stone and €9 for the Tullamore Dew Distillery. I wasn’t going to tour Ireland and NOT sample whiskey and acquire the gift of gab (not that I need to talk any more than I already do). Eventually the 23 tourees (let’s pretend that is a word) piled into the coach.

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The Four Courts Photoshoot

Our group consisted of Australians, New Zealanders and Americans. We where about to spend a lot of time together, so Kim had us introduce ourselves. I was near the front and one of the first to go; it was incredibly awkward. I didn’t know anyone.

“Hi, my name is Sam. I’m from New York but not the city. Er…well, Manny is, but I’m not.” I stopped and gazed out at the crowded bus audience. “I’m actually six hours from New York City. Well, I guess you can say I’m from Canada because I live only, like, five minutes away. That’s it.” I slumped back to my seat. So much for an icebreaker.

OFFALY, IRELAND — Our first stop was the Tullamore Dew Distillery. I’m not a big whiskey drinker, but when in Ireland you must sample the whiskey. Back home, Dad and I would watch How It’s Made. I’ve seen the distillation process on TV, but it’s cool to see it in person. Nothing beats the crisp air and sweet smell. We were able to test a few of the whiskey scents: orange, lemon grass, cinnamon and apple.

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Tullamore Dew Distillery

“Tullamore Dew whiskey tasting was great, even though I’m not the biggest fan of whiskey, bourbon or scot. But, I mean…when in Ireland enjoy some Irish whiskey, right?”

We browsed around the gift shop. I must have picked up the same thing five different times before I set it back down. Then I had a change of heart and bought it. Manny chatted up the distillery guide, debating politics, at the check-out counter. I poked my head around the corner of the shop. Everyone was gone. Cass and I kept at Manny, trying to pry him out of the conversation so we could make it back to the tour bus. Fortunately, we made it in time. As I settled into the less-than-comfortable seat, Kim enlightened our rowdy group that we were to begin the trek to Galway. She popped in a CD – Aodán Coyne. I had yet to fall in love with his singing. SPOILER ALERT We see Aodán Coyne and his band Socks in the Frying Pan.

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McDonagh’s Infamous Fish ‘n Chips

During the hour and a half drive to Galway, Kim entertained us with Irish mythology and history. She was absolutely brilliant. If we weren’t laughing, we were captivated by her story telling…or I was sleeping. I’m not a big fan of ferries and buses, all right? Any time I knew the journey was more than 20 minutes, I slept – crooked neck, probably a little bit of drool and my Venus flytrap of a mouth. I paint a beautiful picture, don’t I?

GALWAY, IRELAND — The Irish Coach parked down the street from our hostel. 23 tired tourees piled out of the bus. Our driver, Ashley, hurried to the luggage compartments and helped everyone with their bags. Kinlay Hostel was a welcoming sight. Cassidy, Manny and I hurried into the lounge area, along with the rest of our tour. We were divided into dorm groups – six to a room. The three Amigos (Manny, Cassidy and I) were paired with Megan, Justine and Whitney. Once we got our keycards, we ran up the stairs – well, as fast as you can with a suitcase and clunky rain boots. We didn’t save much time to get situated; all we wanted was food. Kim had told us about a few great places to eat: In the mood for fish and chips? Head to McDonagh’s. Interested in a savory Guinness Stew? Hop on over to Busker Brownes. We were in a fish mood, so McDonagh’s “Home of Island-wide Infamous Fish and Chips” sounded perfect. The baked cod was to-die-for. The chips were different — mushier and thicker — but delicious. We practically inhaled our food before heading to Eyre Square to meet our city tour guide. I hadn’t polished up on my Irish history before leaving, so I was all ears. Another tour joined our 23-strong group for the walk around the city. We ended near River Corrib and graciously tipped our wonderful guide.

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Home of the Infamous Fish ‘n Chips

After that we spent a majority of the day roaming around Galway. At 8 p.m. we all met Kim at a bar to begin the Pub Crawl. We traversed the city all night, sampling different bars, dancing like mad men to Irish folk music and playing drinking games. Manny, Cass and I stuck to drinking a pint or two of Guinness at each pub. I didn’t slip under the covers until 3 a.m.

DAY TWO: GALWAY TO CONNEMARA

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Doolough Valley, County Mayo

CONNEMARA, IRELAND — I enjoyed a few hours of sleep before peeling my eyes open at 7 a.m. only to shut off my alarm and sleep another hour. I was too tired to shower, so I threw on some clothes and braided my hair. Our group was on the coach at 8:30 a.m. for our day trip to the wild western lands of Ireland. Any straggler had to succumb to singing. I wasn’t sure if it was a punishment for them or the rest of the bus?

It was a traveling day, which involved riding in the bus and staying out of the rain. It poured and poured…and poured some more after that. I understood what they mean by Ireland rain. Despite the weather, Kim managed to entertain everyone with Celtic tales, such as Clann Lir (The Children of Lir). There is a savage beauty to the Connemara Wilds.

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We look worse for wear

The bus stopped at the foot of Croagh Patrick, across from The National Famine Monument. We trekked up what is said to be the holiest mountain in Ireland, stopping just before the footpath where the 7-mile pilgrimage begins. By the time I made it back to the bus my hoodless coat (that’s just bad planning on my part), jeans and hair were soaked. I looked like a drenched rat! Thankfully, my rain boots withstood the harsh weather and kept my feet toasty warm.

 

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Black pudding & crab bellini

Before we passed through Doolough Valley in the southwest of County Mayo, we placed slabs of rock at the memorial out of respect for those who lost their lives in the Doolough Valley tragedy. At this point, the rain felt like tiny needles piercing my skin. A thick fog had settled along the pass, hiding little rays of sunshine that were trying to poke through. Kim loosened the reins, and we took off exploring. Only a few brave souls dared the elements, and those of us decided it would be so cool to touch a sheep. Manny ran back to the bus and, of course, asked permission to touch one of the dirty puffs of wool. We proceeded to stalk a few of the sheep, but we couldn’t get close. Every time one was in arms reach, the little bugger would BAAA and run away. Needless to say, we didn’t touch a sheep.

 

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Guinness Stew, Mash & Pastry

After a long day in the Connemara Wilds, it was time to go back to Galway. We were exhausted and hungry. It was nothing a warm meal and Guinness couldn’t cure. Cassidy and I strayed from the group and decided to eat at Buskers Bar & Kirby’s Restaurant. I could practically taste the stew (even though I had never had it before)! It took us a little while to find the restaurant. Let me just say, I would have walked half the night until we found the place. The food was absolutely D-E-Licious! Our appetizer was black pudding and crab bellini. Guinness Stew was our main course, and we washed it all down with a cold pint of Guinness. The meal was mouth-watering, but there was too much. It probably didn’t help that we got an appetizer. We couldn’t finish it all.

It was our last night in the harbor city. I had heard a lot about the Claddagh ring; I saw one in a small jewelry shop and had to have it. I like to pinch my pennies, but the thought of leaving Galway without it tore me to bits. So what did I do? I spent €40 on a damn ring.

DAY THREE: GALWAY TO ENNIS

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View of Galway Bay

THE BURREN, IRELAND — Leprechauns, fairies and ancient tombs were on the list for day three. Goodbye, Galway. Hello, Ennis. Everyone was packed and ready by 8:30 a.m. I made sure to roll all my clothes tightly into my suitcase because I needed room for a few gifts. Our first stop was a Leprechaun shrine. If you were tall, you could stand in front of the rock. Unfortunately for me, my 5’3″ build required I stand on the stone. Face away from the temple; flip a coin (I stuck with a penny because there wasn’t a way in hell I was going to waste a pound) with your right hand across your left shoulder; hope it falls into the water. Mine went in, which meant I got a free wish. And no, I can’t tell you because it won’t come true.

Our next stop was The Burren – Ireland’s Lunar Landscape. It looks as if you’re walking on the moon — not due to a lack of gravity! The cracks between the rocks are frequent and large. I don’t recommend running. The daredevils moved to the farthest edge of the stone: Paige, Anna, Cassidy, Manny and I inched as far as we SAFELY could (yes, we were safe, Nana). I can still feel the salty Atlantic breeze.

“The word ‘Burren’ comes from an Irish word ‘Boíreann’ meaning a rocky place. This is an extremely appropriate name when you consider the lack of soil cover and the extent of exposed Limestone Pavement. However it has been referred to in the past as ‘Fertile rock’ due to the mixture of nutrient rich herb and floral species.” — Burren National Park

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IMG_6411.JPGCLIFFS OF MOHER, IRELAND — At the Cliffs, the wind was strong enough to stagger you sideways. I unfolded myself from the craned-neck position I tried to sleep in and hurried out of the bus. We followed our stomachs to the upstairs café and grabbed a snack – Cassidy and I ate chocolatey chocolate muffins; Manny went for the blueberry muffin. We had our food gone in a minute or two, chased it down with Irish lemonade and set off to explore. There isn’t a word in English to describe the beauty of the Cliffs of Moher. It was beyond surreal. As I stood looking out at the Atlantic, I couldn’t fathom that I was actually there. I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. FYI I wasn’t.

IMG_6412After two hours of walking the length of the Cliffs, we squeezed into our bus. I fell asleep almost instantaneously. We arrived at Rowan Tree Hostel later that evening. There was a treat in store for us in the musical town of Ennis. WE WERE GOING TO SEE SOCKS IN THE FRYING PAN PLAY LIVE IN A LOCAL PUB. But first…food! There was a quaint restaurant attached to the hostel. Around 12 people in our group joined Bernie, Kim and Ashley for dinner (Cassidy and I included). Leanne, Sheridan, Cassidy and I enjoyed a horrifying discussion of Australian spiders and snakes before digging into our meals. Leanne and I ordered baked brie; it was mouth-wateringly good!

After we finished our late dinner, the group of us walked to the Cruise pub to enjoy a few pints and listen to traditional folk music. Socks in the Frying Pan is one of the best bands I’ve heard live, and I’ve seen AC/DC. But, you can’t compare them; they’re in two different ballparks. Do your ears a favor and listen: Foreign Lander.

It was a great night full of laughter, banter, music and beer. I purchased Aodán Coyne’s solo album “If We Only Knew.” The ladies in the pub, as well as the men, were captivated by their angelic voices. Once again, I was spellbound. I was, and still am, head-over-heels in love with Ireland.

DAY FOUR: ENNIS TO KILLARNEY

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View along Slea Head

We left the musical town of Ennis bright and early in the morning. As per usual, everyone was on the coach at Oh Eight Thirty, packed and raring to go. The day was chock-full of legends, superstition and beautiful landscapes.

We puttered along Slea Head drive on the way to the coastal town of Dingle. We stopped at Coumeenole Beach during high tide to dip our feet in the icy Atlantic water. Why? So the legend goes: if you wet your feet in the water, a piece of your soul will forever leave you unless you return within 20 years. Otherwise you’ll never be complete as long as you live. Don’t worry. I plan on getting that part of my soul back!

We captured many moments along the gorgeous west coast: traveling down narrow roads meant for only one vehicle (let alone a frickin’ coach bus!), enjoying brief moments of Ireland sunshine and witnessing a full rainbow. It couldn’t have been better. It was literally the stuff out of fairytales. We were lucky enough to visit the most western point of Europe and Ireland. It was a good ten-minute walk to the craggy coastline. We took plenty of pictures, laughed and posed ridiculously on top of jagged rocks, despite the roaring wind. I looked out into the Atlantic to see a dark rain cloud speeding toward us. I warned the others, and we began the arduous journey back to our bus, pelted NOT by rain but HAIL – tiny round needles (let’s pretend that makes sense) that seemed to drive through our skin. We made it back: broken, frozen and beaten down.

“There are about 1,500 people in the town of Dingle. You will find busy fishing boats and leisure sailboats on the harbor, and you’ll notice that its streets are filled with cheerful shops and pubs that welcome everyone.” — Famous Wonders.

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DINGLE & KILLARNEY, IRELAND — We stopped long enough in Dingle to catch a quick bite to eat (no pun intended – we had fish and chips), shop for souvenirs and enjoy delicious Murphy’s sea salt ice cream and chocolate sorbet. Then we were off to Killarney where we stayed a night in Neptune’s Hostel. We ran to Tesco for chicken salad sandwiches, crisps and a bottle of wine. We drank the wine out of juice bottles. Classy, eh?

Our night consisted of a local pub, music and Guinness. That was all I drank the entire tour: Guinness, water and the occasional wine or tea. Cassidy and I went to bed around midnight so we would be ready for the final day of our tour. No hangovers for us! We shuffled out into the crisp morning air, prepared for our journey to Blarney.

“We named the lager after the True Irish Hero, Antarctic explorer, Tom Crean who came from out the road in Annascaul…we have brought Crean’s Lager to over 175 On and Off premises in Ireland and Crean’s is stocked in many countries around the world.” — Crean’s Dingle Brewing Company

DAY FIVE: BLARNEY TO DUBLIN

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Coumeenole Beach during high tide

BLARNEY, IRELAND — The Blarney Castle was our last stop on the five-day tour. They saved the best for last. I was going to kiss the Blarney Stone. Oh, you betcha! For those who know me well enough, you know I don’t need the gift of gab because I already have it. When in Ireland…kiss the frickin’ Blarney Stone!

“Some say it was Jacob’s Pillow, brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah. Here it became the Lia Fail or ‘Fatal Stone’, used as an oracular throne of Irish kings – a kind of Harry Potter-like ‘sorting hat’ for kings. It was also said to be the deathbed pillow of St Columba on the island of Iona. Legend says it was then removed to mainland Scotland, where it served as the prophetic power of royal succession, the Stone of Destiny.” — Blarney Castle & Gardens

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View from the top of Blarney Castle

I was nervous the entire way to the castle. I already paid 12 damn euros to kiss the stupid rock! Do they hold me by the legs and dangle me from five stories in the air? Am I suspended on a harness or something? I hope that guy is strong because he’s going to have to hold ALL OF THIS. Some ridiculous thoughts ran through my mind. In all reality it was really simple. You sit facing away from the hole, lean back until your flat against the floor. The man will have you scoot to the farthest edge of the opening. He holds you as you reach back and plant a wet-one on the stone, holding onto iron bars as you do so. Easy peasy.

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Street view of Dublin, Ireland

After the rock make-out session, we ate a quick lunch/breakfast at the café (I had a scrumptious cranberry scone and tea) and boarded the bus for the final stretch of our tour. We were Dublin-bound!

Once in Dublin, our close-knit group had to part ways. We all said our goodbyes with promises to meet up in the near future. Maybe visit Australia, New Zealand or Germany? Manny, Cass and I booked a night in the Four Courts Hostel because there was one thing we had to do before leaving Ireland: visit the Guinness Factory.

That night we met Kim, Sheridan and Paige at The Brazen Head, which is officially Ireland’s oldest pub. We enjoyed, once again, Guinness and a pot of steamed mussels. The goodbyes were difficult, but we swore to keep in touch. We enjoyed a good night’s rest because the next day we were going to take on the Guinness Factory. Originally, we wanted to get up at the crack of dawn, but that plan failed…miserably – we slept in until nearly 9 a.m. We ate a quick breakfast at the hostel, checked out and toted our luggage to the factory, 20 minutes away.

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*cue symphony*

These are the gates to all that is good and holy in this world. Where anger and prejudice leave and nothing but cheer and goodwill remain. This is the Guinness Factory. All jokes (and exaggeration) aside, the tour through the Guinness Storehouse was fascinating. The samples of beer, music and humor kept me wondering what was around each corner. Cass, Manny and I poured our own perfect pint. Just refer to me as “The Master” from now on. Not that I’m bragging or anything. Hehehe. We made our way to the Gravity Bar and enjoyed the most fresh and delicious pint of Guinness any human could ever have (exaggerating? not this time!), all while viewing the cityscape of Dublin.

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“Located in the heart of the legendary St. James’s Gate Brewery in Dublin, this production site has been home to the Guinness Brewery since 1759, when Arthur Guinness signed a lease for 9,000 years. The Guinness Storehouse building dates back to 1904 and is built in the style of the Chicago School of Architecture. It was once the fermentation plant of the brewery and is now a seven-storey visitor experience dedicated to the history of the making of this world famous beer.” — Visit Dublin

Now, I will return to Ireland. It was absolutely magical and spellbinding. I was able to see the things I could only dream about as a child. I didn’t only leave a piece of my soul, but I also left a part of my heart. Ireland calls to me, not in words but song. It was an journey that has become a part of me. Not only did I see and do great things, I made long-lasting friendships with those who share a similar passion.

My travels have only just begun. Scotland, I’ll see you in 17 days!

 

11 thoughts on “Hooker, Turd & Tree

  1. Thank you for sharing this- I am doing what you set out to do- living it through your eyes! Make TODAY awesome Sammer so YESTERDAY gets jealous!
    Crazy bout ya!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for sharing your adventures in Ireland, I’d love to visit that country some day. I feel like I’m with you as you describe your different experiences. Love it, keep it coming!! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Captivating, enchanting, engrossing, fascinating, enthralling…just to name a few! Enjoyed the links you posted with the Irish math joke and loved Foreign Lander. Can’t wait listen to your CD with you. I can’t possibly describe how it does my heart such good to see and hear you enjoying, to the fullest, this momentous time in your life! Love ya kiddo!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I can’t wait to listen to my CD either! I forgot my laptop doesn’t have a built-in CD player thingy, so I can’t listen to it!! Oh, maybe you could send it to me!! ❤

      Like

  4. Sam, Your blog was just fantastic. I so enjoyed reading it and felt like I was there with you. You are such a talented writer and I am so proud of you. I am so happy that you are having such a good time. We will have a lot to talk about when you get home. I love you so much my baby girl.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh Sammy Papa and I just read your blog and it feels like we were there with you. The band Socks in the Frying Pan were absolutely fantastic. The pictures were beautiful. No wonder you loved Ireland. So good to see that pretty face having such a fantastic time especially when you had the mug of Guinness in your hand lol. Follow your dreams Sweetie. You are a very talented young lady who will accomplish a lot in her life. Papa and I love you more than infinity and are so happy for you.

    Liked by 1 person

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