Serendipity

I must admit I was a bit worried when the Viking produced a Lonely Planet with book marks and stars at the beginning of our journey. He had his backpacks, his travelling shoes and was ready to go. I had stress, hayfever and two hours sleep. At Stansted, I found any surface that would prop me up enough so I could breathe and doze. The flight was delayed for an hour, I didn't mind. I could snooze some more.

My father H, was a pilot. He captained for Singapore Airlines in the 80's and flew the star of the fleet, the Big Top Boeings. I spent much of my childhood flying. I loathe and detest it. Take offs and landings, I find particularly horrid. Taking off from Stansted, I squeezed Viking's hand so hard, I'm sure he lost the feeling in his fingers, bless him, he didn't complain. After we made it into the sky, I then did the Squirm as I tried to get comfortable enough to doze. I don't know how the Viking managed to be so relaxed and comfortable. I I'm 5 foot fuck all and I find the seats really uncomfortable. He's like 6 foot plus! When I finally dozed off it was time to land. After we bounced down the runway and came to a stop, Viking turns to me and says 'I'd give that a 4.5'. I cracked up.

I fell in love with Dublin at the airport. It's exactly what you'd envisage a 3rd World airport to be: people sleeping on benches, on the floor, children running in the aisles, no signs, no officialdom to point the way. On the other side of the chaos, on a comfort break I saw a poster advertising the Dublin Pass, money off loads of attractions and stuff from participating outlets and restaurant. We were served by a cute french woman who spent ages with us, showing us the guide book, giving us practical advice, generally being lovely and welcoming.

Joy of joys, a bus trip to Dublin City. My first impression of the city on the walk to the hostel, was damp. But it didn't stop me looking about and enjoying what I saw. Dublin is far more European than any of the British cities I've visited. Part of it is the bi-lingual signage, the Euro and their amazing pedestrian crossings which make a noise that you'd find on a space ship. Viking outdid himself choosing the hostel, it was bang in the middle of things. Bless him, he didn't think an unseasoned traveller like myself would cope with dorms, so we had an en-suite double room. Unfortunately, it was up 4 bloody flights of stairs. *You'll have to use your initiative with the following links, I suspect you'll have to play with the interactive map.*

Hunger overcame the tiredness and we went in search of sustenance. We found the most amazing fish and chip shop, Beshoffs on O'Connell Street. I'm a woman who loves good food, and that was good food. As we ate, I spotted a McDonalds across the street. I was amused to see that its patrons have a universal uniform: white shell suits, lots of gold. The haddock and chips were just what the doctor ordered. I then very happily went back to the hostel and to bed and got some much needed shut-eye.

It's funny, I knew I was stressed, but I really hadn't appreciated how strung out I really was. When I woke up, I could feel the difference, the absence of tension and angst. Bliss. We hit Temple Bar, which was so my kind of vibe. It's the groovy part of the city, lots of pubs, cafes, restaurants, shops, theatres, exhibitions, galleries, craft shops. Stunning, absolutely stunning.

In the 4 days we did: Temple Bar, Trinity College - Book of Kells, Grafton St, St Stephen's Green, Iveagh Gardens, Guinness Storehouse, Christchurch Cathedral, Charles Beatty Library and managed to do some shopping, both touristy and otherwise. I found the most amazing bead shop. How I managed not to buy more than I did, I have no idea, and I spent some serious money there. I like making strings of beads to hang in my windows and by doors.

Rather than give you a blow by blow account of our time there, I'll give you a list of my impressions, take from that what you will.

Irish Guinness. Absolutely fabulous. Tastes nothing like the horrible, bitter, thick stuff you get over here. Go to Ireland. Drink lots of the stuff. It's good for you.

We saw more people from other countries than the Irish. The staff in the hostel were from NZ and the Baltic states. We were served by the French, Egyptians, Chinese, Estonians to name but a few.

Dublin on a Saturday night was absolutely heaving. Temple Bar, where we spent most of our time, was packed with groups of hen nights, with flashing bunny ears, L plates, completely plastered and tottering around on high, high heels; stag nights had matching t-shirts and silly names, champagne bottles. When the groups of pre-nuptial revellers bumped into each other, there was much good natured ribbing and random snogging. We saw lots of scantily clad orange-painted women, and I'm sorry, but fake tan doesn't look any better on Irish women.

Dublin has amazing buskers. We saw living statues, opera singers, fire eaters, fiddlers, samba bands, pavement artists. All of this added to the jovial, party atmosphere of the city. They were talented and not at all pushy.

Dublin is a musical city. Most of the pubs we passed by advertised live music, Irish and otherwise every night of the week. There were 3 major gigs happening while we were there: The Who, REM and Justin Timberlake. On an off chance we managed to acquire some ticked for the JT tickets (I can't abide The Who and REM's live rehearsal was sold out) for Saturday night. We had a brilliant night. I think my Viking nearly suffocated under the weight of all the oestrogen from the screaming female fans. As a tall young man, I think there are worse fates than have lots of young, pretty Irish girls pressing against you. JT was on fine form, his performance was outstanding. I didn't realise he was such a good musician, he played keyboards as well as a guitar, as well as his trademark dancing and beat box.

Dubliners when they are trolleyed are some of the best natured and fun people I've ever met. I never once felt concerned or threatened. I just struggle to find the words to describe the atmosphere. I mean the weather was rubbish. It couldn't make it's mind up, so one minute it would be sunny, the next it would chuck it down and weather can really influence how people act in an urban environment. Not being funny or anything, but Norwich in the wet is miserable. Not the Dubliners, they were damp and bouncing, up for anything.

I really liked travelling with the Viking, he's organised but not anally so. He'd made a list of things to see and do, but wasn't upset or put out that I needed to take it slower. We probably got through half of the list. St Stephen's Green and Iveagh Park were fabulous, especially Iveagh Park. We spent some time there chilling on the grass, barefoot and being silly.

It's good to get away from all the stress and angst. Had it not been for Boy, I could have cheerfully stayed there a lot longer. Now Boy is old enough to appreciate differences in cultures and histories, I think I'll start him travelling soon. I've been bitten by the bug.