Mysterious. Edgy. Alluring. Captivating. Full of history. And somehow charming. These are the words I have to describe Dublin. I haven’t felt this in love with a city since Sevilla, yet comparing the two would be ludicrous.
I’ll start from the beginning.
When our ferry dropped us off at the Port, we caught a cab to our hostel. The cab driver was an older man with a lot to say. When we told him we were from America, he had no problem telling us exactly what he thought of the States. It was hilarious. His accent was so thickly Irish, I could barely make out what he was saying. But I could tell that he was slamming our politics yet telling us how much fun he had in Vegas. We even got two “So a ____ walked into a bar” jokes.
When we got to our hostel, we put down our bags, freshened up and headed out into town. We were in Temple Bar, a bustling square in the heart of the city. What I loved most about the city was that there were live musicians on every street corner. There were people everywhere, yet unlike places like New York City where there are also crowds people, in Dublin, there was a warm feeling to the city. Everyone we met or passed by was friendly and happy, despite the gloomy sky and run-down look of the place. My first impressions of Dublin were that it was a place with a lot of history and that it was completely badass. I’m talking leather jackets, boots and whiskey badass.
We stopped for dinner and a pub called O’Riellys and in true Irish spirit, got Irish stew and soda bread. Then, we grabbed a drink across the street at Temple Bar, one of the most iconic pubs in Ireland. Of course, everyone was glued to the TVs watching the World Cup. But we couldn’t stay to catch the end of the game because we had sightseeing to do.
Heading south, we walked towards St. Patrick’s Cathedral, one of the many beautiful churches in the staunchly Catholic city. It looked like a castle, so naturally I was obsessed. We snapped a few photos, took a quick rest on some benches in the church garden, and headed back into town on to get ready for a night out.
Sarah and I walked back to the Temple Bar Pub and had a few Paddys. It was Sarah’s brilliant idea to make a toast to my late friend Zach, the most influential person in my life, who died this past March of brain cancer. Even before he found out about his cancer, Zach lived every day to the fullest. His motto was “Make each day your masterpiece.” We couldn’t think of a more epic way to make our day a masterpiece and honor him than to have a drink in him name at the Temple Bar in Dublin. Absolutely unforgettable.
After going back and changing at the hostel, we went to a pub called Bad Ass, which lived up to its name. We headed next to another bar, the name of which I can’t remember, then stopped to decide where to go next. It was then that we were approached by a young girl who was promoting for a club just outside of the Temple Bar area. I’m usually one to avoid scouts like this, but Sarah was balls in to go to a club, so we figured, why not? The club was pretty empty, but we made the most of it by letting loose one the vacant dance floor and having a blast even as other people trickled in. But we didn’t stay too late, and ended up back at our hostel by 1 a.m. Sorry to let you down, Kathy!