Whew. Catching my breath in Dublin. Monday I arrived bright and early and quickly got lost wandering around the streets. This tends to happen when you don’t carry a map and I was happier to stumble upon than stalk. Had a pint at the Poet’s Corner bar when I couldn’t find my hostel. The barkeep politely told me I was within four hundred steps. I dropped my bags and continued wandering. This side of the River Liffey, that side. No rhyme or reason. Found some interesting scenes. Really I was just wasting time before I could check in, shower, sleep. Check, check, check.
Tonight I met Deonne and her mother for dinner and the Ireland Italy match. Italy 2-0. The Irish figured it was going to happen, so no big deal. Dinner was great. The Temple Bar area is the touristy part of Dublin. Expensive. Irish Stew for 17 Euro! Great to spend time with someone I knew.
I went back to the hostel after the game and found a bar across the street featuring traditional music and dancing. Great craic, as they say. Met a fine lad named Dwayne. He was steering clear the shakes from his night before with his boys in Temple Bar. Apparently sobering up in Dublin means drinking 6-7 the next night. He was a great guy. Our conversation ran the gauntlet. The Troubles, the hard nature of growing up a Dubliner. Cuba, and he’s been. Football. The quintessential Irish man. Friendly. Generous. Genuine. Endless liver.
Good times. Ready for rest.