I now know two words of Gaelic

And I'm proud to know them.

Mrs. Flanagan and myself have completed a 9 day driving trip of Ireland. Once at third world country in Europe, and now one of the most powerhouse economies in the world. I imagine things would have been very different had we taken this trip a decade ago. For one, I don't think I would have been old enough to rent a car. Two, I didn't really know Lindsay, so it might have been more awkward, and 3, I was supposed to be starting my junior year of college, so I was kind of busy.

Ireland is 5 hours ahead of us, so we traveled in the evening from New York, and arrived at about 10AM in Dublin the next morning. We each maybe caught a couple hours of fitful, non-restful sleep, and the prospect of spending a whole day awake was daunting, but we were optimistic at that point. So we checked in to the Westin Dublin. (Westins always have good beds. This was certainly a factor in the equation. ) The doorman was our first example of a cheerful, friendly Irish man. This was a stereotype that turned out to be much more rare than you would think. He heard my name, and said, "oh you're one of us?" which, if you know me, absolutely charmed me to pieces, and I looked forward to the 9 more days of that kind of brotherly sentiment. In retrospect that may have been foolish.

At this point, it was clear that I had no idea if A) you were supposed to tip people in Ireland, and that B) it didn't matter because I didn't have anything less than 50 euros. (50 euros translates to roughly $1543. This is likely to be recurring joke.) So perhaps it was my own bad karma that ended up making him the last friendly Irish person we saw for several days.

That's a bit of an exaggeration perhaps. There were friendly people, but they're really not any more friendly than anyone else in the world. Actually, they're probably more friendly than the average New Yorker, but that's not really that hard. The fact is, we were just some tourists; two of thousands; and we were treated as such for the most part. But that's not really bad, and I think it got better as we were there longer. Except in Ennis, which we hated. More on that later!

It's the first day in Dublin. We decide to take a stroll in the Temple Bar area which, if you've ever been in Times Square or the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica or Quincy Market in Boston, will feel familiar. It's basically a tourist trap. There are according prices everywhere. We later learned that there are such a thing as prices and tourist prices. We didn't really ever learn to avoid tourist prices, but it got to the point where we could at least recognize them. The farther north we went, the cheaper things got. Dublin is not for the traveler on a budget however. We got lunch at a "traditional Irish food" restaurant for not the last time. I had Irish Stew, and Lindsay had Fish and Chips. These would be the first chips (fries) eaten, but certainly not the last. The meal was typically touristy (not very good, and way overpriced), but dammit we were having fun, and well on our way to stop converting euros to dollars.

It must be said that Dublin is a beautiful, vibrant city you can walk around for hours and hours, and see wonderful things. There's not a lot of architecture in this city that isn't attractive. There's a giant green park called St. Stephen's Green which we strolled through, and people from all over the world are everywhere. There are free museums everywhere (except the natural history museum, which was temporarily closed.) There's a castle in in the middle of the city. There's the Guiness Brewery, which we didn't go to, which I regret slightly at the time of this writing. It's great. We had our trusty Lonely Planet Book, which was invaluable, and only let us down once (Again, Ennis.)

So we basically strolled. We visited Trinity College, and saw the Book of Kells (touristy sure, but interesting nontheless), which is nearly the oldest surviving text in Ireland, dating back to about 800 AD. Quite fascinating really.

Then we tried to go to an art museum, which is about when the fatigue took us over. We decided it would be best to take a short nap.

About 3 hours later, with only a touch of regret, Lindsay and I had what might have been the best food ever served in Ireland. Thanks to the book, we found a place called Gruel, which was really very good. I had some pork belly thing with cinnamon and a grilled pear, and Lindsay had some kind of chicken that I remember was also quite good. Lindsay frequently orders chicken, but actually rarely likes it, so the fact that she liked this is no small thing.

Then it was off to the pub.

What's that? Josh in a pub? Well, I was in Ireland wasn't I? You've got gotta have a Guinness when there, so off we went. I'm not really a beer fan. Who can say why? But at least I'm not afraid of it any more. So I had one. Lindsay did too, and she took to it quicker than me. I got about 2/3 through it before it made me wince. I think the foam coats the throat, which stops the bitter part from burning. It's like I'm 15 at this point. Except I wasn't trying to get drunk. I think I felt, at best, a bit warm, with slightly tingly fingers.

But dammit, I felt like a man.

I'm 30.

Coming soon: The Rest of the Country!