Day 1 - Our Arrival in Dublin
The flight over for the most part was uneventful. We had a slight delay getting out of Newark,
though certainly not on the same scale as my trip to Scotland in ‘08. Aside from dumping half of a cup of hot coffee in my lap, I have no complaints of the trip over (well, the coffee at best was mediocre, which made the scorching feeling that much less enjoyable). As our plane approached the airport, I was struck by the fact that Ireland is truly made up of a million shades of green.
We were picked up at the airport by a well dressed coachman to convey us to our hotel. I was initially struck by his accent but then I deemed it quite strange even for Irish. On further questioning, we discovered that he actually hailed from Poland! But then I realized that Alex had thus cunningly kept our arrival a secret from the locals.
Our initial base of operations is the Dublin Hilton hotel that sits on the Grand Canal just south of St. Stephen’s Green. The Grand Canal (An Chanáil Mhór in Irish Gaelic) is one of two canals that connects Dublin to the River Shannon in the west.
After checking in, being about 10:30 local time, I felt that this was an excellent time to reconnoiter and find a little repast. On the recommendation of one of the locals, I wandered over to Camden St., said to be known for it’s pubs. I eventually found my way to a small pub where I fulfilled my immediate need with a steak and onion sandwich chased by a half pint of a local lager.
On leaving the pub I wandered west into an area of row houses along a tree lined street. A curious feature of many of the residences in Dublin is their colorful doors. This came about in the day when Ireland was ruled by Britain. On the death of one of the Royals, the Irish were ordered to paint their doors black. Being of a rebellious nature they instead painted their doors any color but black. To this day, they have maintained this tradition with much pride.
As I continued my aimless wandering through the streets of Dublin, I came upon St. Patrick’s Cathedral (Árd Eaglais Naomh Pádraig in Irish), founded in 1192. Now it is reputed that this Cathedral is the site of St. Patrick’s Holy Well. I proceeded to reconnoiter this area south to the Grand Canal and then back along the canal to our hotel. On reaching the hotel, I felt the need to rest a while from the long trip so that I would be ready for dinner.
By the time I met Alex and Linda for dinner, most of our troops had made their way to our rendezvous spot. As I mentioned before, with few exceptions, all are veterans of previous Beatonite campaigns. The only ones that have yet to join us are my daughter, Amy, and her friends,
Missy and Steve Brandon. This will complete our expeditionary force and our mission will begin in earnest. I can only hope that Amy is not delayed in her arrival as she was for the Beatonite Venture of ‘08. Since she has this trip booked her flight through Chicago, a repeat is not expected.
After greeting a few more of our fellow troop, we made our way just down the road to a local pub, the Barge Bar aptly named as it sits along the Grand Canal. I’m sure it has been the supping place of many a bargeman making his way along the canal. We immediately felt right at home amongst its wood paneled walls and Old World decor. Alex and Linda made a meal of the local fish and chips while I dined on lamb chops over a serving of champ. Champ is a local dish of some note. It is a simple combination of mashed potatoes and local greens. Though I am not sure what greens made up this particular dish, it is often of a hardy nature such as kale. We chose to accompany our meal with a pint of Smithwick’s (pronounced Smitiks), a local dark ale produced by the renowned Guinness distillery. More on this I’m sure will follow.
We were soon joined by Tom and Melissa Curtain, whom I had met during the Beatonite Uprising of ‘03, and Merv and Pam Forney, veterans of both the both the Beatonite Incursion of ‘05 and the Beatonite Venture of ‘08.
We shared food, drink and much crack. Now before you think that I have sunk below my usual depth of depravity, let me assure you that the term “crack” is used by the locals to refer to banter or conversation made in a casual setting, the Barge Bar being an excellent example. To share crack is to have a good time, usually accompanied with drink and much laughter. This is not to be confused by “small talk” made by large politicians who are often “cracked up” in another way.
It being near 9pm and the day having been quite long (actually starting the previous morning), we deemed it an excellent time to repair for the night. Before closing, I must note that, at this time of the year as we approach mid-summer and being at such a northern latitude, the sun does not set locally until 10:30 (or half of ten as the locals put it). And it rises about 4:30 am. This can make for a long day for us southern folks who were taught to work from sunup to sundown. But then, it gives us extra drinking time!
Let me take the opportunity to say that henceforth I will refer to the previous campaigns as BU3 (the Beatonite Uprising of ‘03), BI5 (the Beatonite Incursion of ‘05) and BV8 (the Beatonite Venture of ‘08). This will save not only your reading time, but also my typing
though certainly not on the same scale as my trip to Scotland in ‘08. Aside from dumping half of a cup of hot coffee in my lap, I have no complaints of the trip over (well, the coffee at best was mediocre, which made the scorching feeling that much less enjoyable). As our plane approached the airport, I was struck by the fact that Ireland is truly made up of a million shades of green.
We were picked up at the airport by a well dressed coachman to convey us to our hotel. I was initially struck by his accent but then I deemed it quite strange even for Irish. On further questioning, we discovered that he actually hailed from Poland! But then I realized that Alex had thus cunningly kept our arrival a secret from the locals.
Our initial base of operations is the Dublin Hilton hotel that sits on the Grand Canal just south of St. Stephen’s Green. The Grand Canal (An Chanáil Mhór in Irish Gaelic) is one of two canals that connects Dublin to the River Shannon in the west.
After checking in, being about 10:30 local time, I felt that this was an excellent time to reconnoiter and find a little repast. On the recommendation of one of the locals, I wandered over to Camden St., said to be known for it’s pubs. I eventually found my way to a small pub where I fulfilled my immediate need with a steak and onion sandwich chased by a half pint of a local lager.
On leaving the pub I wandered west into an area of row houses along a tree lined street. A curious feature of many of the residences in Dublin is their colorful doors. This came about in the day when Ireland was ruled by Britain. On the death of one of the Royals, the Irish were ordered to paint their doors black. Being of a rebellious nature they instead painted their doors any color but black. To this day, they have maintained this tradition with much pride.
As I continued my aimless wandering through the streets of Dublin, I came upon St. Patrick’s Cathedral (Árd Eaglais Naomh Pádraig in Irish), founded in 1192. Now it is reputed that this Cathedral is the site of St. Patrick’s Holy Well. I proceeded to reconnoiter this area south to the Grand Canal and then back along the canal to our hotel. On reaching the hotel, I felt the need to rest a while from the long trip so that I would be ready for dinner.
By the time I met Alex and Linda for dinner, most of our troops had made their way to our rendezvous spot. As I mentioned before, with few exceptions, all are veterans of previous Beatonite campaigns. The only ones that have yet to join us are my daughter, Amy, and her friends,
Missy and Steve Brandon. This will complete our expeditionary force and our mission will begin in earnest. I can only hope that Amy is not delayed in her arrival as she was for the Beatonite Venture of ‘08. Since she has this trip booked her flight through Chicago, a repeat is not expected.
After greeting a few more of our fellow troop, we made our way just down the road to a local pub, the Barge Bar aptly named as it sits along the Grand Canal. I’m sure it has been the supping place of many a bargeman making his way along the canal. We immediately felt right at home amongst its wood paneled walls and Old World decor. Alex and Linda made a meal of the local fish and chips while I dined on lamb chops over a serving of champ. Champ is a local dish of some note. It is a simple combination of mashed potatoes and local greens. Though I am not sure what greens made up this particular dish, it is often of a hardy nature such as kale. We chose to accompany our meal with a pint of Smithwick’s (pronounced Smitiks), a local dark ale produced by the renowned Guinness distillery. More on this I’m sure will follow.
We were soon joined by Tom and Melissa Curtain, whom I had met during the Beatonite Uprising of ‘03, and Merv and Pam Forney, veterans of both the both the Beatonite Incursion of ‘05 and the Beatonite Venture of ‘08.
We shared food, drink and much crack. Now before you think that I have sunk below my usual depth of depravity, let me assure you that the term “crack” is used by the locals to refer to banter or conversation made in a casual setting, the Barge Bar being an excellent example. To share crack is to have a good time, usually accompanied with drink and much laughter. This is not to be confused by “small talk” made by large politicians who are often “cracked up” in another way.
It being near 9pm and the day having been quite long (actually starting the previous morning), we deemed it an excellent time to repair for the night. Before closing, I must note that, at this time of the year as we approach mid-
Let me take the opportunity to say that henceforth I will refer to the previous campaigns as BU3 (the Beatonite Uprising of ‘03), BI5 (the Beatonite Incursion of ‘05) and BV8 (the Beatonite Venture of ‘08). This will save not only your reading time, but also my typing
To Day 2 - Dublin