So, we spent the first two nights in Dublin hanging with A's brother, J (as always, the names of the implicated have been reduced to capital letters to protect their identities from cyberstalkers and anonymous cantankerous critics). On the evening that we got in (Valentine's Day), J had made a reservation for dinner at a good Indian restaurant called Jaipur, on 41 South Great George's St. They had a romantic mandatory prix fixe (sorry Mr. D) accompanied by a cold bottle of prosecco. I know it sounds weird--the idea of quaffing Italian sparkling wine with Indian food--but it worked, we tell you. It tasted particularly good with the chicken tikka. We had a lot of food left over and our mouths are watering right now just thinking about all that Indian food that we could have eaten if only we'd had more time.
The next day we toured Dublin until it started raining, then we toured some more. We saw Christchurch and St. Stephen's Green and then had a Guinness for good luck. Since it was raining, we thought we deserved that good luck Guinness. Also, we had gotten lost in what can only be described as the Bronx of Dublin for about 45 minutes. We still don't know how we did it, but we did it. We took a taxi back into the center city.
The day after that we rented a car (and yes, we bought the extra insurance at Sindo's recommendation. Some of our readers will know that my parents and my grandparents had their car stolen while they were on vacation in Hawaii one year, and that Sindo now suggests to all traveling members of his family that they purchase the additional insurance because you never know. Also, MasterCard and American Express don't cover you in Ireland. Only in France, Germany and Spain. F.Y.I.). Then we all drove down the eastern coast of the Celtic Sea (staying to the left. Always to the left) on our way down to Wexford and New Ross, which is where J lives now. That evening we had dinner at an Italian restaurant whose name escapes us, but whose house chianti was outstanding, quite in spite of the fact that it came in a half carafe. J ordered a pasta dish that was so hot it turned his adam's apple inside out. The wine helped.
The next morning we spent some time at J's place of work, and enjoyed conversations with his colleagues and friends. We took photos of the lovely Creacon Lodge and bade J farewell and set out along the southern coast towards County Cork. We took lots of pictures of dramatic cliffs and the ocean. We will post those dramatic pictures when we are done uploading them and labeling them. For now, suffice it to say that there were lots of sheep and pastures and forests and cute thatched roofs.
We loved Cork when we finally got there. It is a very cool college town, which gives it that youthful flavor. But to be honest, all of Ireland is a very young country, a fact that has become all the more apparent now that we are back in "old" Spain. I think I read somewhere that Ireland is the youngest country in Europe. Spain must be one of the oldest, along with Italy, which is enjoying something of a demographic crisis. (Okay. Our fact checker just came in and told us that in fact Spain is the fourth oldest country in Europe. Italy is the oldest.)
After an amazing stay at the Garnish House (their breakfast is top notch, although you will have trouble eating everything they put in front of you), we headed off to the Dingle peninsula. We loved Dingle Town, which is a charming little fishing village. Then we drove up to Connemara and stayed in an even smaller fishing village called Roundstone. We met a nice couple from Seattle there in the local pub (the only one open in the off season) and drank a lot of Guinness with some locals. There was also a chocolate sundae eaten at some point. We also ate what can only be described as the Best Piece of Cod Ever (with chips). Interestingly enough, that was the night we stayed out latest. It was also the night we drank the most. We like the dark intimate drinking sites in remote fishing villages.
On our last full day we drove around Connemara, the austere but very beautiful natural park on the west coast. It is one of the areas of the country where Gaelic is widely spoken. Lots of sheep. Absolutely gorgeous. Then we drove back to Dublin for one last night at the Grafton House.
All the guest houses we stayed at were lovely. And it seemed like each one we visited was more charming than the last. We got a bit tired of the "full Irish breakfast" by about the fourth day (two pork sausages, two pieces bacon, two slices pudding, tomato, egg, toast), but now we rather miss those breakfasts. If you have the means to get to Ireland, we highly recommend it. Ryanair can get you there from Madrid for 75 euro roundtrip for two. Including taxes and all that stuff. No carry-ons, though.
Unfortunately, our trip had an explosive climax. S got a GI tract bug on the last day. It was either the Mexican food (!) we had on the last night, or a 24 hour flu virus. He woke up that Wednesday morning with an ill feeling that was soon followed by several trips to the loo to drop a deuce. It was a beautiful day and we had plenty of time before our flight, but S couldn't eat anything or go anywhere so A took a brief jaunt out into the city. S just lay in bed, trying to fall asleep so the pain would go away. (It was only sunny for about 2.5 days, so S felt particularly bad about feeling so bad.) After a rough taxi ride to the airport S had to make another urgent deposit. He was glad that said deposit came on BEFORE getting on the plane. But then, about an hour into the flight of two hours, he had to vomit (to keep things interesting). So he spent 20 minutes in the minuscule bathroom "puking [his] brains out." The reason we think it was the Mexican food (!) is that there were lots of red peppers in there. Forgive us the juicy detail, but as you know, amagomundi is known for professionalism and attention to quality.
So this week we have been recuperating. S has been eating small pieces of apple, a piece of toast, and a few bits of yogurt for breakfast all week. Pretty much a standard S travel story, no? Another country, another stomach ailment. Someday we will write all about the acute gastroenteritis that S got on the final night before completing the Camino de Santiago (he never did complete the trek). That was a doozy. There is a photo somewhere that his tío took of him while he was wasting away in Majadahonda, one week after returning in defeat. There is also a good story about a trip that S took to Mexico with Freddy. Also a doozy. But that time Freddy got the same bug.
Next weekend: Berlin.