Highlights of Dublin Trip

Sorry I've been very busy with school over the last week, so I haven't updated in a long time...


My Week End!

Prison:

We visited a famous prison in Dublin, where most the Nationalists and Revolutionist died by old age and execution.

Guinness Factory:

While most students sat through longwinded professor’s lectures, crammed for a tests, and pushed through homework we went to the Guinness Factory.

A group of us searched the streets of Dublin for the factory using our noses guides. With every step toward the factory the strong scent of hops attacked our nostrils. The streets filled with 18-year-olds moving in unison also steered us in the right direction. The litter infested cold damp streets with abandoned rail tracks intersecting everywhere and neglected warehouses wearing shattered windows reminded me of the old industrial area off University Ave. I started to be doubtful about the second most visited site in Ireland after taking in the scenery encompassing it.

While waiting in line Kevin said it best, “This is gonna be like Willy Wanka’s Chocolate Factory for men.” I took my golden ticket which cost €11 and pushed through the turnstile with high expectations. The museum doubled as one big advertisement for Guinness. Instead of Wanka’s chocolate flowing through, falls of purified natural spring water used in the brewing process from a local mountain streamed through the first floor. Around the gushing water replicas of hops grew on the wall with information about its importance in brewing Guinness. The walls explained the significance of yeast and barely to grand beer.

On the second floor, free samples of Guinness laid out for the taking with a man instructing me how to properly test it. The shot of Guinness teased my taste buds and left me feeling incomplete. After the tease, the transportation of the beer since its existence and the construction of casks were explained. I stumbled up the stairs to see more.
Being a management major who’s interested in marketing and international business the third floor fit me like a glove. Better than the one in OJ’s trial—if that’s possible. (Heard they finally locked him away with that other case this week). The history of Guinness advertising screamed “Pure Genius!” The lovable mascots, poetic slogans, and humorous sketches brought a smile to my face.

At the end of Willy Wanka’s Guinness Factory up the stairs on the top floor 100s of people jammed into a circular glass enclosure perched on the roof which overlooked the whole city. With my ticket stub I redeemed a complimentary Guinness. I’m not sure if it’s because I’d just learned about the beer or what, but it was the best beer I’ve ever drank. I tasted the roasted barely more than in any other Guinness. It almost gave off a chocolate/coffee taste.
After the letting the alcohol run through my vanes I stumbled down to the gift shop. The slogans of Guinness were branded on clothes, magnets, posters, hats, pint glasses, clocks, and more.

Hill of Tara:

On this site Saint Patrick confronted a king about the rules of lighting fires on the hill tops of his kingdom. Saint Patrick impressed the king with his courage and strong devotion to Christianity converting the king. Initially the place bored me, because my poor imagination couldn’t fathom how a hilly pasture of grass stained with sheep shit drew so many people. Not only was there no castle, but not even ruins of it.

Then I looked in the distance and noticed the little beasts that’d stained the ground I walked. Kevin and I slowly approached the sheep, but they jumped up, urinated in unison, and trotted off. Our walking eased into a slow jog; we separated, and surrounded them. These little beasts picked up speed at this point and hauled off deep into the field for refuge. I felt like a shepherd… My beard really fit the mood.

Brazen Head:

The oldest pub in Ireland rests in the heart of Dublin. As I sat down on a short bar stool sipping my Smithwicks the sound of laughter, Gaelic tongue, and fast English competed with the whistle of bag pipers playing in the background.

Burrdock’s Fish and Chips:

The best fish and chips place on earth supposedly resides in Dublin. Burrdock’s fish attract celebrities from around the world who fill the wall of fame list posted in the tiny place. Locals told us people line up out the door for a bag of fish and chips. The closet of a restaurant holds no tables or chairs to sit down at and only 3 people fit in the line. Meaning “lines out the door” doesn’t say much. Huge vats of boiling grease fogged the window s, cooked the fish and chips, and heated the room. Within seconds after I’d ordered the two employees took my money, dropped the battered fish into the tubs of bubbling grease, and fished it out slipping it into a brown bag stuffed with fries. It tasted like a salty cod enclosed by mini donut batter dripping with liquid lard. The fish burnt the roof of my mouth and slipped down my throat satisfying my hunger. After inhaling the bag of fish and chips lathered in grease I felt sick to my stomach. Go figure? I doubt it’s the best in the world, but it tasted grand minus the belly ache afterwords.

Monastic Community:

A brisk breeze with a calm whistle from over the waters and through the trees coupled with the rays of sun sneaking through the crisp clouds brought a sort of peacefulness to me. I slowly wandered through rows of moss encrusted tomb stones shaped as Celtic crosses. Over the centuries, the elements ate away the edges of rock leaving a graveyard of smooth mossy stone. The weathered stones and ruins of a church in the backdrop tell the story of a strong faith continually being challenged by invasion. Both Vikings and Irishmen alike raided, ransacked, burned, and killed the rich monastic community.

Mother Nature began to heal the lands of war by filling in its wounds with lush glowing green grass. She patched its scares up with spots of deep green moss. As I strolled through the old monastic graveyard I snapped pictures from all angles and slowed down to digest the landscape and my thoughts.

These are two videos... of one my cottage and another of my weekend in Dublin...