Oh the difference a day makes.

Fuck Ireland.

Seriously. This morning I had the hotel flag me a taxi to go to the airport. They said they had an arrangement with the hotel for a 25 euro flat fee. So I put 30 euro in my pocket to give a 5 euro tip.

So the guy takes me to the airport with his meter running, then shuts the meter off but not before I seen the reading of 32 euro. Then he says it was 30 euros.

Fuck it. At this point I didn't want to dick with it. I already had the 30 euros in my pocket. Rather than argue with the guy, it was worth just giving him what I would have given him if he was an honest man anyway. Every shitty thing that has happened to me in Ireland was from getting shat on by the Irish. Every nice gesture and cool deal was from someone from England or Scotland. Or an immigrant to Ireland.

To be sure, I met some nice Irish folk, mainly the women. But out of every country I've been to, Ireland has been the worst by far. Maybe its just Dublin, but I sure as hell won’t be back in this country.

Then the airport was a screwed up deal. The itinerary I have from Delta says my flight from Dublin to Amsterdam lands at 2:05 pm. Then my trip from Amsterdam to Oslo leaves at 2:45. I don’t get off the plane until 2:30 and the gal in Ireland said I would have to go to a transfer desk to get my boarding pass for Oslo. So I’m hauling ass through Schiphol airport, which is fucking huge, desperately trying to find a transfer desk. I find an auto one where I flash my passport and get my board pass. I have to get to gate D82. I’m at D27. Its waaaaaaay on the other side of the airport. So I’m hauling ass and come up to another security checkpoint, the ones where you empty your pockets, etc. With ten minutes to go.

I’m freaking and the gal looks at my boarding pass. Apparently the Delta itinerary doesn't take into account time zones because it actually takes off at 4:45. Fuck.

So I’m sitting in a place that make fresh grilled burgers (they have good food in Schiphol) and eyeballing getting a beer I desperately need.

I get on the plane to Oslo. From Dublin to Amsterdam it was Aer Lingus next to a grandma and screaming kid, in cramped seats with pay for peanuts service. From Amsterdam to Oslo was via KLM and I was upgraded to business class. The plane was spotless, even the coach seat I could view behind the curtains had more room, and I was in seat 1A with the entire front row to myself. The first thing before we even took off, they gave everyone in business class a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. Then later a tray of snacky things and fresh bread, with free drinks. And a hot towel afterwards. This was for a two hour flight.

When we landed it was in a spotless airport, the seats I walked past were curved wood backed with soft cushioning in front. Then I got an express train into Oslo and figured out how to take the tram to the hostel. I have a single bed room to myself that cost about 550 dollars, as compared to the Dublin room which ended up costing me around 850 dollars. Plus free wifi, a lounge, outdoor garden area, gym downstairs, game room laundry service, and a game room. And Oslo is known for being the most expensive city in Europe. Everyone I talked to spoke English, though usually not fluently. Weird thing is that I can understand them far better than the Irish. And every single person has been polite, helpful, and nice.

So in closing, once again, fuck the Irish. I will never set foot in that country again if I can any way avoid it.

Goodbye Dublin

It was probably the worst city I've visited to date. The experience had its high and low points, but the hostel fuckup and the street punks throwing bottles at folks just really soured the whole thing. Plus there is a football game tonight and there was one when I came in to Dublin. It reminded me of a giant frat party in huge sections of the city. Maybe that's the same way they would feel here during the Superbowl, but it just appeared to me to be shitty drunken attitudes in a lot of places.

Another good breakfast at the hotel, I figured I would keep munching here as they are good and cheap. Then back to the hop on/off to hit the Dublin Museum of Decorative Arts. It was an old military officer housing or some such with a large inner square marked off with how many paces. So I'm sure marching drills and such happened there.

This museum was cool in that it had things like bankers chests, coins, old furniture, etc. I would have labeled it a curio museum where you get a feel of life in 15-17th century Ireland. Quite a lot of cool things including a weighted clock spanning the three floors of the museum with the gearwork visible on the third floor.
Afterwards, I headed over to the Jameson Distillery for a tour of the oldest distillery in Ireland.
Lets just say I paid 14 euro and wasn't very impressed. They triple distill their whiskey, Scotch is double and our whiskey only once. Then their premium whiskey is aged 20 years for "the best flavor". I'm not going to go into the difference between body and tail of a distillation, and the difference between aging a spirit 13 and anything later, but suffice it to say that made quite a large deal out of how smooth Jameson is. I was one of the volunteers for tasting at the end, and the only one that picked out the Scotch rather than the Jameson. They did have a cool chandelier though.

Also the Irish coffee I had before the tour using brown sugar and real cream off the back of a silver spoon was delightful. I just wouldn't have used Jameson. I don't feel its as smooth as Glenlivet. Just never been a fan. Plus they were comparing it against Jack Daniels in the tasting. That's like comparing Hoegarden versus Budweiser. Fie on thee.
I'll be packing soon and I can't wait to get the hell out of Dublin to be perfectly honest.

My religion, my church, and my altar.

This morning found me simply trying out the cafe downstairs again. I had first got a take out the night when I first checked in exhausted. Simple burger with fries so I could pass out on my bed. This morning was white and black pudding, rashers (bacony ham), sausage, tomato, bread, egg, and a latte. Good price, huge meal and well cooked. Why the fuck was I going elsewhere in the first place? Dang. Plus I got a discount for staying at the hotel.

The tomato was a traitor though. I tried to cut it in half and it squirted all the way across the table and down my shirt. No way that was not a deliberate move on the tomato's part. The shirt was toast as there was no way it was washing out. So I had to hit up a shop and buy a new shirt and toss the old one. I would have given it to a homeless place but had no idea where one was in relation to where I was located. Cest la vie.

My first stop was the Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. Y'see, to say I like books is like saying the Pope if fond of Jesus. Back in junior high and high school I looked forward to the last day of school before summer. Not because of the partying or running around outside. But for the first week I could read the entire day long. I would fly through three books a day. After that, I could start putting up with people - but until then I needed my books. The though of a book so precious and sacred that four people spent their lifetimes painstaking making the book and illustrating it, a book that battle and wars were fought over just to protect it, was like viewing the Holy Grail.

My first stop at Trinity College was interesting though. I stopped by a side exhibit detailing the difference between a map of Ireland from 1570 with one from 1670.

 

He was a history professor or student and was fascinated by the differences that just a hundred years made in cartography. He started telling me that the main reason the maps were different was that the British ruled just a small area on the middle east portion of the map. But that didn't jive with my engineering nature. I noticed the streams and waterways had roughly the same distance between them and realized something. Cartographers (explorers) would have kept to the waterways for food, water, and supply refueling from townships- not to mention transportation. When the different maps from these explorers would be compiled, they would have been given roughly equal weight and distance between them - hence the whole being skewed towards a squarish shape. I further proved this by pointing out three isles with roughly the same size and equidistant from the main shoreline, when in reality they were way farther out and in no manner equal in size. So we chatted for a half hour over the meaning as to why the maps differed, some via political influence and some via basic engineering/logical though process. Twas good to have a nice intellectual conversation in the midst of a vacation.

The Book of Kells exhibit was amazing. It had the descriptions of the alphabets used, details on the art for each letter, detailed descriptions of some of the illustrations, how they made the ink, who wrote it, the battleas and wars fought over it, and a VERY cool video showing how they used to make and bind the books.

Trinity College link online http://digitalcollections.tcd.ie/home/index.php?DRIS_ID=MS58_003v

There was also the Book of Durrow and the Book of Mulling on display. But the Book of Kells was amazing. It filled my heart with joy that four people spent their lives creating such a thing of beauty and you could tell it was their sole passion and dedication. I was mesmerized and tears started forming in my eyes. It was beautiful. No pics I'm afraid, understandably - they do not want to damage the book in any way by some yokel not turning off their flash (which happens a lot). 
Then came the old library. A huge hall holding a monstrous collection old and ancient manuscripts and bound books. A line of exhibitions showing various books, pamphlets and such over the ages. This really made my trip to Dublin worth it. 

Next stop was a hop on the hop on/off bus to check out the docks area. It was a secondary route of the hop on/off bus, so I thought I would check it out. There wasn't really any place worth hopping off but I did enjoy a lot of the scenery. There was some cool architecture and I really enjoy one of the bridges. It was cleverly designed in the shape of a harp, and I could do some quick figures in head and it was a sound structure. Pretty cool.

After this I went to a Viking Museum next to Christchurch. They were connected to each other with a bridge based upon the Bridge of Sighs in Venice. The museum was pretty cool for a touristy type of thing, and it explained why Dublin was there in the first place (dubh "black" and linn "pool" from early Viking times). From a historical standpoint it was pretty cool, but again. Touristy.

From there I made my way to Christchurch Cathedral, but I've seen so many massive impressive churches in Europe that quite frankly, this one was not at all impressive. It had a cool, yet very tiny crypt exhibit. The coolest part was where the found the mummified corpses of a cat and rat that must have been caught in the organ.

Kitteh!!

After that it was just a hop into the shiny chrome and red naugahide 50's style American diner for a chili cheese dog, fries, and a Coke. It was ok, but when it comes to crap food - we simply do it best.

Gotta love the Irish... oh wait a second, no I don't

Actually, the vast majority of them seem pretty nice. I'm just pissed off this evening. I'll explain.

The morning started off well. I woke up and headed to a place called George's Street Arcade. Its a little covered shopping area that's been around since the 1881, small but it had some cool little local artist shops and a nice eatery. Had eggs, white and black pudding (some kind of animal part or other), ham, sausage, toast, and a latte. Off to a good start.

I then hopped on the hop on/off buss to hit the Guinness brewery. It was cool in that it was one of the oldest and that Guinness is made slightly differently than most and has a unique taste. But after brewing for myself for 16 years, explaining how beer was made (the first two floors) was kind of redundant really. It was really cool to see the coopers making the old school beer barrels though. It really did take a craftsman to make them. Looking at all the old brewing equipment was pretty cool in itself too.

There were seven floor and on the fifth floor you could attend a Guinness pouring academy. They have a ritual and the whole bit. Plus special glasses to help you in pouring the perfect pint.

I'm pretty sure this is going on my resume.
They also had a cool bar at the very top of the place with a 360 panoramic view of the city. I would have stayed for another pint (admission got a a free one, either in the pouring room or at the top bar), but I wanted to hit the Kilmainham Goal before the last tour.

The Goal was a prison in Ireland that mainly the British used to jailed and execute rebel leaders throughout Irish history until the last rebellion in 1916. You see, just like in America, the average Irish citizen was happy to be under British rule. but the British executed 14 men with plans to kill over 60. But they picked off the wrong men and turned public opinion against them.

The first bad move was a man named Joseph Plunkett. His one last desire was to marry the love of his life before passing from this earth. The British reluctantly agreed his last request. They had just him, his fiance, a priest and two British soldiers as witnesses. The couple were only allowed to say "I do" before they were separated. Afterwards, they were further allowed to spend ten minutes that night in a room, only allowed to hold hands, while a British officer loudly counted out the seconds before they were parted and he was hung the next morning.
The second was James Connolly. He had been badly wounded and his leg was gangrenous. He was dying already and could not walk to the end of the courtyard where the other leader had been shot to death. He was told to stand next to the gate they brought him in. His leg was so bad that he could not so they brought out a chair for him to sit in. This also did not work as the pain and nerve damage was such that he could not sit in the chair. So they tied him to the chair and fired on him as he sat already dying from a gangrenous leg.
The heartless brutality quickly change the public opinion of the British and caused the War of Independence of 1922, which they eventually won. Somewhat. The English agreed to a treaty where the Ireland was considered a free state, but they swore fealty to the king and had a representative in their Parliament.
This split Ireland in two. Half wanted to get full independence slowly through political means, the other rejected the treaty and wanted immediate full independence. Which set up the civil war of Ireland, which still separates north and south Ireland.

I hopped off the bar at Temple Bar again as it was quicker just to walk through there than wait for the bus to hit Stephen's Green. I eat a nice tasty pie at a local pie maker there with mash potatos ans gravy, with a weird grapefruit/pineapple drink called Lila.

After resting briefly and catching up on Facebooky, returning burnery things - decided to head out.

Here's where the shitty part starts. I went heading down the street west of the hotel to hit Augier street when a couple of young blonde starting yelling some things quickly in a heavy accent to me. I stared at them but kept walking as I had no idea what the hell they were saying. Then I felt something nick my finger hard.
Apparently a bunch of kids were throwing eggs at people that walked down the street. They missed my head and hit my pinkie finger. Whatever, I took it with a grain of salt. I'm from out of the country, so I know where the cops would fall on with this one.

So I spent some time having a nice nighttime walk through city. Up in the Temple Bar area, then down Grafford Street, and down then up Aungier Street. I made the mistake of walking back down the same street as about three hours had passed. A plastic milk bottle hit the street next to me. I looked over and seen a bunch of 12 year olds at the apartment complex on the stairs. I flipped them off and they said a bunch of stuff I didn't understand though I did hear "fag".

I called down to reception and talked to the gal down there. She said she had eggs thrown at her along with other people. She could call the cops, but the kids just laugh at the cops. If the cops even bother to come down and do anything.

Great. I have all sorts of nice scenarios where I buy a baseball bat and wait for the fuckers in an alley at night, but they are just a bunch of punk kids that no one does anything about. So now I have to watch my ass for a bunch of punk fuckers each time I leave my hotel. And this is the nice part of town. Throwing eggs I.m not worried about. If the little fuckers get too bold in a group of six or so - that might be problematic. So I'm going to have to get a cheap flick knife tomorrow in case they get the balls to try and jump me or some silly shit. Yay fun.

The tart with the cart, the trollop with the scallops, the dish with the fish

Ah, Molly Malone.
I woke up and set out for one of the bus tours on Stephen's Green. It was pretty cool, they had some guy talking about all the famous sites as I marked them down which ones I wanted to see. Not sure if I'm going to see Dublin Castle. The bus didn't bother going past it or even mentioning it and the natives I asked thought very little of it. "Its a castle, I guess..."
So I got to see the various sights of the city and have plans in the work to hit the prison and maybe walk down to the Guinness factory tourist place. That should be pretty cool. I ended the bus tour at Temple Bar, an area with a lot of restaurants, bars, and such. Its a famous place for folks to hang out, but there are a ton of tourists there. I went into an authentic Irish restaurant and had some kind of deep fried crab cake salad thingy that was good, a pint of Guinness, and some Guinness beef stew. Yum.
  
I'll start with St. George's market for a bite to eat prior to hitting the Guinness factory.
Also last night I went walking to find a pub and seen a "gentleman's club" (aka strip club).
Ok. NEVER go in to a strip club in Ireland. Its a glorified bikini bar where they only go topless at lap dances. I paid 35 euro for entrance, a drink, and a free 2 minute lap dance. And that was only because it was a Tuesday night special. The gal asked for a drink, so I said sure. Hers cost 12 euro. During the brief lap dance she explained that she could take me back to the VIP room and get fully nude for 600 euro for an hour.
I'm pretty sure you could see flames rising from the skidmarks of my shoes as I departed, like in the roadrunner cartoons. I was worried I was going to be charged 20 euro for the oxygen in the club if I stayed for another minute.
Anyway, I hit two bars and had some cider. The feel was pretty much the same as any UK pub. Large, wooden, and a nice old smell to it. Not much else to say about Dublin, still the biggest let down of the trip so far. I think I should have picked a smaller city inland.

Chill and shake before drinking

Morning finds me in a somewhat better mood than last night. So far I have to say that I'm very unimpressed with Dublin. On my journey to find a new hotel, I was walking through the throngs of Irish and tourists in the middle of the city. I felt like I was in New York, but without the majestic skyscrapers or culture. It felt like a bunch of drunks and bland city building. No real color or art. The cabbie that took me from the hostel to the TravelLodge told me that there were over 50,000 cabs in Dublin. I know part of it is simply the pissed off nature of getting screwed by Abbey Court Hostel and I need to move past it and get myself settled.

I am wearing my last clean clothes, so I need to take a load down to the laundromat. On the way finding the place I wandered down further to get a bite to eat. I found the Irish equivalent to New Seasons. I got some herbal tea, apple and elderflower juice, double shot latte, chili on taters, and a sausage pastry for breakfast.I don't have the "beat" of the city yet and I might just make it a chill day of reading in my hotel suite. That's usually my best way of dealing with bullshit. Get away from people, read or take a long walk away from anyone, and just process. Once that's done, I'm ready to go back out again.

I actually decided to spend the time reading a new novel I downloaded. You see, I suffer from literacy. Its an affliction where I can get so caught up in a book that even being on a costly once-in-a-lifetime vacation becomes secondary. So I ended up spending way too much time reading and eventually left my hotel room to pick up my laundry at 6pm. This ended up causing this other thing I like doing, called Walking In Strange Places. So after dropping off my clothes, I started wal;king streets mostly at random. Which was a good thing considering there are street signs in Dublin, mostly at random.
I ended up walking through the Stephen's Green shopping complex, then out to the Grand Canal, and back up Aungier Street. I stopped at a gourmet restaurant on the way. I had a meal of crab cocktail, lamb with cabbage and bacon, wild mushrooms in garlic, battered and fried onions, a glass of French Merlot, and a weird cake thing with bananas and raspberry glaze.A good meal is one of the quickest ways to pick up my spirit.
I ended up back at the hotel around 11pm, so it was a nice walkabout. I still don't have the heartbeat of the city down yet though. Eventually I do and I feel as a native. I tired going in a couple grocery stores, but Dublin just seems a bit schizophrenic as a city - if that makes sense.
Anyways, I awoke late and will shortly head out on the open top tour bus to check out the city. I figure a nice two hour bus ride will point out what I want to check out, then I can stop at them tomorrow. Its a hop on/hop off bus with a two day pass. Plus I'll see if I can find some authentic Irish food made from some part of an animal that I was previously unaware of.

So far, fuck Dublin

Goodbye Edinbrugh

Welp, so much for taking the City of the Dead tour. I just wasn’t into it at the time. I sat around, read, and made sure everything was packed for the trip to Dublin. Met the newest hostel mate last night. Started with an M I think, but he was from Australia and him and a bunch of friends booked a drinking tour where they get pissed drunk every night in different cities. He asked if I wanted to go out and get blind stinking drunk. I told him unless I was with a hundred folks dressed up in weird shit or there were fire affects, I don’t really get plowed anymore. I think of it as amateur drunk night.

I did go out and had a good Chinese meal. Unfortunately the only good place is a half block from the strip clubs. So yah, I spent more money foolishly. Had a couple beers. They seem to like Americans in there as we tip better and they can understand us more. A number of the strippers were from other countries and no one seemed to have any problem understanding me. Plus they had a negative view of Scottish men. Walking around the street of bars, I got the same impression. It felt like a frat house all along the street. Cest la vie. The guys I talked to in the clubs were pretty cool, but definitely well into drinking.

Woke up via meh phone, sneakily packed my things so as not to wake the hungover Aussie. Got downstairs and called a taxi to take me to the airport. Got to the airport on time, whizzed through security, hopped on a jumper airplane and was in Dublin in less than an hour. Since I had a travel agency in Edinburgh do it for me, they even had one of those chauffeur guys with my name on a sign once I picked up my bags. Took me straight to the hostel. Easiest city transfer yet, no?

Actually, hell no.

One of the things I always check as a top priority is whether a hostel has lockers in their rooms. Simple safety setup. You keep your clothes under/next to your bunk and your passport/papers/laptop/camera/electronics locked up so someone else in the room can't walk off with it.
Well, when I show up, they tell me to just put it in the pull out drawer under the bunk and lock it up. Standard procedure, no worries. I lug my heavy pack four floors to the top rooms with a four bed bunk setup. The hostel setup is pretty cool and I was digging it.

Wait a second. The open took roll out drawer cage has about a 8 inch gap between the top of the drawer and the bottom of the metal bunk. There was nothing stopping anyone from simply reaching in any side (it was a rolled steel bunk frame) and grabbing anything they wanted. Even if I picked up the front of the drawer and pulled it up to lock it, the T bar support on the bunk bed preventing enough room to use a lock.

So I went downstairs and asked them what the hell was going on. Their advert on Hostelworld said they had lockers, otherwise I wouldn't have booked with them. She said they must have changed the drawer style as there was a clash that you could use to lock. Which was bullshit as I seen to welding marks or drill holes in any areas which would have made it possible. So I spent about a 1/2 hour examining the setup in my room and determined about four easy, cheap, and simple ways that would have foiled most attempts (barring an angle iron of large bolt cutters) from being able to get to the belongings. After further reflection, the fact that it was Sunday so no hardware stores were open, and the pissed off realization that I shouldn't be fixing someone else's engineering stupidity - I went back downstairs.

The gal said that they had lockers in the first floor common area. I checked them and there were approximately 32 lunchbox sized laptop holders that required a Euro each time you used them. I know there were 42 rooms as I was in room 40. Consider the smallest room had four bunks and the large dorm downstairs had 24 bunks, they have roughly 200 bunks. So all the lunchbox lockers were taken. Even if they wouldn't have been - the thought of walking down four flights of stairs just to use my phone or laptop was just ridiculous. At one euro per use. Fuck that. I spent close to 600 bucks just dealing with visa crap for Russia and Belarus. Plus I had to pre-pay the hotels to get the visas. So if my passport would have gotten stolen, I would have been out roughly 2k. So no way was I going to go somewhere without a way to secure my stuff.

So I tried going to three different tourist information places where the gal at the lobby said I could check other hotels. Since it was Sunday, either they weren't open and the ones that were didn't check hotels - only hostels. I checked three nearby hotels and because of a big game here next Friday and on today - no one had six nights available. after a coupe hours searching I found a TravelLodge on Stephen's Green that charged me an arm and a leg for those days when the games where happening. I ended up paying 650 euros versus the 150 I would have paid. I can afford it, though it fucking sucks.

I do get my own hotel room, which is a good break. And it has a big bathtub so I can soak away for a while. So while I did get royally fucked, I will be relaxing in style in a nice hotel room in a good part of town in Dublin. I'll get some of my meditation and self-help stuff taken care of in peace and quiet.