And the beer and whiskey flew

Having survived seven hours in the Rosslare ferry station, we raced between rain storms to the train stop and immediately boarded the Dublin train--a milk run it turned out. But who cares how long the trip is when there is a party to be had. With approval of the rail authorities (bless their souls), we held our nightly reception, this time with Irish music accompanying the slosh of wine. Two New Hampshirites who had been traveling in Europe for the last 30 days joined the party. The train ride up the coast line gave us a taste of the glorious Irish countryside. 

Upon checking into the hotel, we hit the streets seeking a classic Irish pub. The first place (recommended by our cab driver) drove us out with loud rock music. Pub Two had the real Irish music, but not a seat to be found on three levels. So in our first night in Dublin we settled for a traditional, authentic...........Italian dinner. Very good though. 

To get a sense of the sights, we rode a complete loop on a tour bus, about two hours. All that did was show us how much we wouldn't be able to see because of our limited time. With the clock ticking we beelined to Guiness Brewery to make sure we could check that off our list. What a time! Erin had already secured a table by the time we reached the tap room at the top of the building. Turns out our table mates were four guys from England who fancied themselves as the four wayward friends in the "The Hangover" movie. They had even "done" Las Vegas last year--their first trip to the US. Talk about a fun time listening to their stories. We certainly did our bit for US/British relations. 

We followed a successful stroll through the Guiness store with a ride to the Jameson Irish whiskey distillery. And not just any ride, but one involving a horse and carriage. How cool it was to hear the clip-clop of hooves on the cobblestone streets as Dublin leisurely passed before our eyes. One of the Dublin treasures we saw from the buggy was the oldest pub in Dublin. And as luck would have it, we had a ninety minute wait for our Jameson tour, so we set our sights on the Brazen Head pub, an establishment that traces its roots back to the 1400's. With an ambience that reeked Irish pub, the Brazen Head very nicely served the time-filling role. Oh yeah, we enjoyed the Jameson tour and tasting. 

But our pub experiences were not over. Erin told us about a place near Jameson's where we headed after dinner. The sounds of real Irish music and a throng of beer drinking enthusiasts greeted us as pushed through the Cobblestone Pub's front door. Locating a table in the back, we secured one beer for our table of four people. Then ensued a delightful conversation with the couple next to us who traveled what they called "The Music Trail" in the US--Nashville, Memphis, Natchez, New Orleans and Lafayette.  Our new friends did point out that it is not customary in Ireland to order a beer with four straws. 

With a few hours left in our Dublin experience, Erin, Julie and I attended the early service at St. Patrick's Cathederal. The building dates back to the 12th century but a church has existed on the site since the eighth century. They even have found evidence of activities on the grounds from hundreds of years earlier. Handmade needlepoint kneelers grace every seat. 

Our sprint to the finish included a visit to Molly Malone, a tour of the Book of Kells at Trinity College (incredible), a stop at Walton's Music Store (another tin whistle joins the family) and lunch at Leo Burdocks Fish and Chips. While the Book of Kells was phenomenal, the old Trinity College library was a treat unto itself with floor to ceiling (and we're talking 20 foot high ceilings) stacks of extremely old volumes housed in a barrel vaulted room. 

Can't help but mention another aspect of Dublin that became apparent during our carriage ride--the colorful doors that welcome guests on seemingly every house. And not just in Dublin. Homes in small villages also boast beautiful doors, many brightly colored, some intricately decorated. We even saw a calendar that featured photos of Dublin doors. 

Loading the newly rented van, we hit the road north about 45 miles to Dundalk. The short trip was not without adventure as six backseat drivers helped Erin navigate his way along the backroads. An hour and a half into the drive that included going through the same town twice, playing chicken with other cars on a narrow country path, brushing the passenger side mirror on the hedgerow next to the road and backing out of the wrong toll booth lane, Erin responed to the toll booth lady's, "Have a nice trip" with a guttural, "Hrumph!" But here we are safely ensconced in a 1901 Edwardian house owned by a person Erin met on his 2012 pilgrimage to Ireland. Life couldn't be better.