Shit! It’s weeks later and I’m still trying to get the story of Ireland out of my system. Need to get it off my chest before those fleeting moments disappear. It’s so temporary. Life. Experience. It feels so real and intense in the moment, but weeks later it’s just a postcard. A thing that happened to someone else. It’s vague. The details lost. Flashes of light captured on silicon, GPS and time stamped, sent to the cloud for posterity. How often will I actually look at these images? Will I remember the intensity of the moment? Who knows? I’m drunk.
After a quick stop at the flat to drop off our swag from Temple Bar, we head over to O’Shea’s Merchant. It seems to be our preferred haunt in Dublin. I’m sure there’s better in the city, but we’re content with this place. It’s stumbling distance from where we sleep, so it makes poor drinking decisions easier to swallow!
Beers were getting a bit too filling, so I switched to Irish whiskey! Best decision I made that night. Unfortunately, I didn’t explore too many varieties while in Dublin. Just stuck with Jameson! Barbara stuck with Guinness and John…well, John chose something of poor quality, I’m sure. Probably some kind of cider. I kid John, of course.
These guys were a couple of wise asses and kept the crowd amused. I don’t remember their names. Barabara did Barbara things with them and found out they really didn’t have a name for their little band. We suggested Two Irish Feckers…they concurred. Laughed a bit, got a couple shots, and left!
Next up in the Irish folk music lineup at O’Shea’s were these 3 guys. Not quite as amusing, but pretty damn talented, none the less.
We drank some more. John was getting tired. Barbara and I were getting trashed. A common thread on this trip. We left in good spirits, or at least under the influence of spirits. We needed to get some sleep, because the next day was our big train tour of Ireland.