Pub Crawlin', Dublin Ballin'

The past four days have been an adventure. First, the Thursday pub crawl. Since none of us had class in the afternoon, TJ, Coleen, Peter, David, and I decided to complete the Historic Blackfriars Ale Trail, a nice little trek near the Thames around five historical pubs. We found this website with a lot of themed pub crawls, and this one was nearest to our flats. We began at Dogget's, a multi-level pub on the Thames next to the bridge near our flats. The view of the barges loafing down the river on a rather dreary, rainy day made me feel like I was on an ocean (that and I got an ale with a clipper ship on its label). This pub was the youngest of the five we went to, and it didn't have much of a history besides being used to watch the annual crew race between Oxford and Cambridge.

After Dogget's we crossed back to our side of the river and found the next stop - the Black Friar pub. This pub was by far my favorite in London so far. It is on the site of an old monastery from the 1200's (hence the name). It is also the place where Henry VIII attempted to persuade the delegation from Rome that it was okay for him to divorce his wife. This pub was built in 1875, and its awkward triangular shape reflects the former presence of other buildings and alleyways around it. This and the Cheshire Cheese definitely had the most history of the pubs I have been to.

On the way to stop #3, we got a little lost in the Financial district behind St. Pauls. We finally found Ye Olde Watling, a pub full of business men coming in for a late afternoon pint. We finished a pint quickly here, as Peter had to make it back for the opera. Picking up the pace proved to be an awful idea, as I will explain later. A few blocks away was Williamson's Tavern, where the bartender told me about his favorite bars on the pub crawl. Some people at the bar talked to us for a bit. I've found that when you travel in smaller groups, the locals are usually very friendly and interested in what the American kids are doing in there. We picked up the pace even more and finished our fourth bitter in about 2 hours. On the walk back to the Old Belle, our final stop, we were all feeling pretty drunk. Coleen, the only female, was a champ and survived the whole thing. I poured about half of her pint into mine at the final stop (for some reason we all picked the highest ABV content beer in the place. Bad idea) when she wasn't looking, but she still performed admirably. When they stamped our sheets, the bartender gave us all t-shirts for finishing the crawl. I think all of the pubs are allied together or use the same distributorships, because every pub had the same beers on the pumps and the same menus. After I choked down my 1.5 pints, we headed back to the flats considerably intoxicated.

Coleen took a nap while I cooked a dinner of pizza and potatoes. I ate a lot of food and then took a loong nap, waking up at 11pm with a massive hangover. I think it was more my body being very angry for eating so much food after drinking a lot, and then waking up at a really awkward time, than the actual beer I drank. Either way, I took a long shower and tried to fall asleep to no avail. After a rough time I finally fell asleep at about four am.

Lessons learned:

Start pub crawl later in the day
Don't cram five pints into two and a half hours
Hydrate throughout
Eat food along the way instead of gorging after
Don't pass out at 7pm

The pub crawl was actually very interesting, and they are good ways to get you out into areas you normally wouldn't see. We never would have found these pubs on our own. For next time, however, (and there will be a next time), I will be more prepared and perhaps order food instead of beer at one of the stops. I would like to take my family on a Landis family Ale Trail, but I think we would have to alternate whoever get's the pint at each stop.

Now, onto the Ireland trip. I woke up on Friday extremely tired but not at all hungover, thank God. I bought Kristin a birthday muffin and struggled through Theatre, where we took the easiest quiz on theatre history I could have ever imagined. TJ and I left right from the London Center and walked to Victoria Station for our bus to Stansted Airport. It took us forever to find the bus depot, but we made it to the airport in time to check in. Ryan Air is a joke of an airline, and the flight was one gigantic punchline. TJ and I were making fun of this crappy airline and their exorbitant hidden fees the whole flight. The flight attendants were hawking cigarettes, scratcher tickets, and food the entire flight. Their were ads on the overhead bins and the seats don't lean back. Want a glass of OJ? It'll cost ya! When they land on time they play the Kentucky Derby bugle song and brag about how 90% of their flights are on time. Our flight home was delayed, btw. I really want to punch RyanAir in the face.

When we finally landed and made it via bus to UCD, where Kristin lives, we met up with Emily from Rome and Griffin from Toledo for a little reunion of our South Bend group of friends. It was a little piece of Knott Hall in Ireland, and it made me feel a lot less homesick about being away from school. I kindof felt sad that this won't happen nearly as often next year, as we will all be scattered off campus (including me, thank you brojo). We went out to dinner at a bar in the city center called Clarendon. I had a Guinness (duh) and Shepherd's pie and some excellent cheesecake. Dublin is EXPENSIVE. Beer is five euro pretty much across the board, compared to 3 pounds in London. Food is insanely pricey too. This place was pretty good though. After dinner we went back to Kristin's dorm and had a surprise b-day for her, and all of the ND people from Dublin were there.

Her older sister arranged VIP passes for us for at a club all the way from America. So we went back into town for a private room at Club M, supposedly one of the hottest clubs in Dublin. The experience was pretty fun, but expensive. Emily had a 12 Euro long island. TJ, Griff, and I weren't really into the dancing thing, so we hung out in our private room while the girls danced with the creepy Europeans. It was fun sitting behind a velvet rope and kicking people out when they tried to come into our little area. I was expecting more trashy European techno, but they played American dance pop, just like every other bar in Dublin. We were all pretty tired from traveling, so we left early (in club terms) at 2 am and went back to the dorms, only to stay up longer talking.

On Saturday we woke up late and went into town. Kristin gave us a brief Dublin history tour, and we stopped in and bought some Guinness souvenirs before the beer tour. Dublin is soooo much smaller than London. You can get from suburbs where UCD is to downtown in about 2o minutes. Got a lot more of an StL small town feel than you do in sprawling London. We made it to the Guiness brewery and stopped and took picutres at the first sign we could see. We took a lot of group shots together to make our friend's from home jealous.

The Guiness tour was expensive (11 euro), but worth it. We learned out the company's extenisve history and how a stout is made. I kept telling people that the A-B tour is better because it is free, but no one believed me. At the top of the storehouse where the tour is, there is a bar overlooking all of Dublin where you turn in your ticket for a free pint. The Guinness in Dublin is delicious. It tastes like ice cream, according to Kristin. No one knows how to pour Guinness back home, and it is much fresher in Europe. I'm going to be spoiled when I get back. I don't think I will be able to go back to the light sweet American pilsners either since I have been drinking so much bitter ale and Strongbow cider. We walked out with a lot of souvenir glasses. I am sending one to Jimmy since he is Irish.

After the tour we hopped on a train to Howth, a little seaside village near Dublin, for a cliff walk. We got there right as the sun was setting, so we didn't make it as far along as I would have liked. Seeing the sun set over the sea on a grassy knoll was still one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed. It made it even prettier because of the people I was with. A little old dog also followed us on our little walk up the side streets of Howth. We named him Bennett after my roommate back at school. The cottages along the street have the most beautiful views overlooking the calm sea. We watched the sun set and sat on a little grassy ledge and talked for a while. I would love to retire to a little place like this and open up a little coffee shop and just talk to people who come in.

We ate dinner at the Bloody Stream, a nice pub with a big fireplace right by the train station. There were a lot of locals in there. The Irish accent is so cool. This pub was pretty much as close to what I had imagined Ireland would be. Warm fire, old wooden tables, accents, Irish ales. It was perfect. They were playing American pop over the speakers though, which I always find funny. After dinner TJ wanted to walk away with a Beamish glass he had drank his beer out of. Instead of stealing it, he was bold enough to ask the barkeep if he could buy the glass off of him. He said he was an American studying abroad and trying to collect pub glasses and if he could purchase this one from the pub. The bartender looked at him and was like "that one?" sure. He even took the dirty class and gave TJ a new clean one. For free. Ask and you shall receive. From then on we just asked the bar instead of walking out with them.

After dinner we went to another pub, discussed the Monty Hall problem among other intellectual topics and made it an early night. We shut ourselves in Kristin's room and watched youtube videos and gossiped, etc. Typical ND college night, except transferred to Dublin. It was such a surreal experience, all of us being together in another country and touring like we were family. It was cool being in the land of my Mom's ancestors. I felt somehow connected to the folks in Ireland because I know I have a little Irish blood in me somewhere. Usually I get mad at people who brag about their heritage back home -- "I'm Italian so I know how to cook pasta. I'm German/Irish/Russian so I know how to drink." No you don't. Get over yourself. You are American first and foremost. I did feel a little proud of being a McGoron though. And I am Irish so I can knock back the Guinness with the best of them, thank you very much.

Sunday morning we woke up earlier and went into town for an Irish breakfast. Nobody was bold or wealthy enough to order the traditional full breakfast, complete with blood sausage and God knows what else, but they did serve baked beans and really good sausage links with the food. We walked around some more shops, and TJ and I perused some rugby jerseys and looked for the four provinces flag to take home as a souvenir. I was extremely tempted to buy a Rugby jersey from Ireland or Wales and a ukulele for 20 euro but I couldn't justify it since I am going on Spring Break soon. I wish I had a little more money to get souvenirs, but I guess part of this whole experience is being a poor student and doing stuff on the cheap -- just poor enough to want to bring your family back when you are older, which I will for sure.

We stopped in the bar called the International Bar for lunch. 3.50 euro sandwiches? Sign me up. This was a much smaller pub, but just as Irishy looking as the other one. Right after we sat down, four old men sat in the table next to us and began tuning their banjo and guitars. This is gonna be awesome. Indeed, they began playing Irish folk music sitting about two feet away from me. Their accents made the songs that much more fokey. They even had the traditional Irish thumpy drum. I forget what it was called. We listened contently until I discovered that one of the guys had a Harp glass, a beer glass TJ, Griffin, and I had been looking for for a while. It was like the holy grail of this trip, so we both went up to the bar and ordered another pint just for the glass (thank you Mom for the bank deposit -- it got us another drink and made us stay longer for the hilarity about to ensue).

As we were enjoying our pints, a huge group of 20-30 somethings rolls in the pub, and crowds in the doorway. There was about 12 of them, all drunk, on a bachelor party pub-crawl for one of the guys. They sat in the tables next to us and began singing along with the folk band. They sang so loud and drunkenly the band leader challenged one of them to sing for himself. We were trapped in between an awesome Irish folk sing off. The two groups traded songs while us four (Griff had left for the airport) sat in the middle and laughed about how perfect this scene was. One of the bachelor party introduced himself to us and told us what they were doing. We told them we were from America, and the conversation began. We talked for probably 40 minutes with these people and Ireland and the US. They were very interested in where we were from. One of the guys had just been to Cleveland and South Carolina and said the people in both places were very unhappy (I defended the Palmetto state admirably, however).

Every once in a while they would break out into a "USA! USA! USA!" chant and we would join in. They also did a "Yes we can!" chant (gentle eye roll from Charlie) and an "Afghanistan!" chant (collective "oh, hey now" from all four of us). They were very good spirited though, and their chants were not malicious, just gentle ribbing. They admitted that they are all alcoholics, so I guess it was a draw. They invited us off to another pub to come with them, but Emily had to catch her flight back to Rome. As we stood up to leave, I put on my jacket and scarf and one of the guys pointed at me and shouted "Louie!" All of the other guys all looked at me and smiled and shouted Louie, too. Apparently I look like one of their friends, but only with my coat on. They begged us to stay for one more song, and the band played while one of the bachelor party guys sang what I guess was Louie's song. At then end they all chanted "Louie Louie Louie!" and looked at me. Thoroughly confused, I thrust my fist in the air and started a USA chant as we left the bar, Harp glasses in hand. It was a perfect moment to end the trip on. We laughed the entire way back. It was sad leaving Dublin so soon, but a wonderful weekend with some of my closest friends. I would love to get out to the Irish countryside someday and go back to Howth and finish our cliff walk. Someday. The flight back to London was uneventful, and TJ and I got off the bus early and wandered through the financial district back to the flats. It made me very excited to go on Spring Break with some of my newest friends (and my girlfriend). I will have so many memories and experiences to share when I get home. If only my friends from StL could make it out here, too.