On March 6th, 2015 I left the United States for the first time of my life. The week before I left all different kinds of people were giving me pointers, tourist locations, tips of traveling, and different areas to explore yet what I remember the most was the surreal feeling of leaving my homeland and explore an entirely new world. What was life like in an entirely new society? Were the people there going to be friendly? What kinds of food did they eat? What would they do every day? What did they think of the U.S.? Would they like me? I had so many different questions that had nothing to do with tourist attractions or pubs, but of the people themselves and of life itself in Ireland. Fortunately my expectations were exceeded immensely and quite frankly, I had the time of my life.
After making our stressful transfer at Heathrow airport, we were finally on our way to Ireland. While sitting in the back of the airplane during our arriving flight I realized that I was sitting next to an Irishman who happened to be born and raised in Ireland. We didn’t talk much on the trip over and politely maintained our privacy yet this all changed during our landing at the airport in Ireland. Unbeknownst to us, the cross winds at the Dublin airport causes the landing planes to have a large amount of turbulence before they hit the ground, and while we were landing we were hit with the most violent turbulence that I have ever felt in my entire life. At one brief moment I thought that my 21 years on this earth were over but after the rather turbulent landing the Irishman next to me turned and said, “Well, thought I was about to cash in me chips there for a moment!” We instantly started cracking jokes with the stewardesses about how we thought our end had come. It was at this moment that I knew that I was going to love the Irish people and their humor, considering me and the Irishman were comparing our airplane to a cigar tube with rockets attached.
I was very nervous about our departure from Newark Airport for the trip. I wasn’t sure if I put in the right paperwork, or if my Dad paid for the trip correctly and I had horrible images of myself being carried away from our terminal kicking and screaming by two massively robust TSA agents moments before boarding. I was also unfamiliar with many of my companions on the trip and I was not sure if they were going to like me throughout our journey due to my eccentric nature, uncanny admiration for alcohol, and my wild-child lifestyle. I just remember telling myself to just relax and be myself…which made me wonder on whether or not that was perfect thing to do to being with. Yet upon arrival to the group I quickly made friends with Abby, Caytron, Patrick, and Ricky in our baggage check in line, and I knew that I would be ok. What I didn’t know was that I was about to share one of the happiest journeys I have ever been on with them as well as my other classmates.
The landscape of Ireland is absolutely breathtaking. On our ride from the airport to the city the rolling hills and distant mountains were every day sights for Irish locals, but to me they were as glorious as ten thousand year old monuments, commemorating the people of Ireland with their beauty. As we drove along the thin and winding roads our tour guide, Joe Mernagh, gave us descriptions of everything we passed. One of his descriptions was that Ireland’s economy was growing faster than any economy in Europe due to its thriving pharmaceutical industry, which was good news for me considering my Dad works for Pfizer. When we reached Dublin it was like a city version of the country side: beautiful, clean and full of history. As Joe was leading us from James Joyce’s soap shop, Oscar Wild’s statue and other historical monuments I realized that the city of Dublin and its people admire their history. Two monuments that stood out to me was the Theobald Wolf Tone monument and the Daniel O’ Connell monument. Their stories were the personification of Irish struggle with both men dying before their legacy could have been completed. The fact that the Wolf Tone monument remained faceless was also added to the dark and tragic atmosphere of his story, but naturally Ricky and I took dumb pictures of ourselves in front of it. Looking back I wish that I hadn’t do to the ominous tone of the statue, yet we were so jet lagged from the flight from home it was a miracle we were all still standing.
The food in Ireland was absolutely delicious. There were some picky eaters who accompanied us on our journey (who shall remain nameless) but I was most definitely not one of them. The potatoes of the Shepard’s pie were tanned brown on the top and underneath it the tender meat, peas and carrots were blended so well that every bite felt like you were celebrating St. Patrick’s Day. At that first night in the hotel lobby I ate my companion’s leftover deserts as well. I had no idea what the desert was but it was delicious! Whilst vacationing, visiting other restaurants and multiple pubs I was pleasantly surprised that the Irish also make great burgers. The best one that I had eaten was in a small restaurant in Dublin that was called McMurphy’s Tavern. This burger was the Tower Burger and it undeniably lived up to its reputation. Stacked on this glorious mountain of deliciousness was eight ounces of angus beef, two gargantuan slices of tomato, two massive onion rings, a handful of oversized peppers, and two sheets of lettuce that I could have used for bedsheets. Needless to say, I was unable to finish the monstrosity but was that burger good! Sinking my teeth into it may have been a feat in itself, but every time I took a juicy bite the combination of the sweet onions with the hearty beef left my taste buds screaming for more until they were satisfied. During my shameless consumption of the Tower Burger, McMurphy’s bar delighted us with an old Irish tradition that I was well aware of but I never saw in person. Three Irish step dancers took to the mini stage while we enjoyed our dinner and we were soon enjoying their fancy footwork. I used to Irish step dance when I was younger but these native Irish dancers were professionals. Their sharp, quick, foot movements were incredibly impressive and they even started teaching other bystanders how to Irish step dance as well. Overall it was a fun, enjoyable, and occasionally hilarious experience, yet nothing could compare to the comfort of sitting at a pub enjoying a nice cold pint of Guinness. (or eight pints for that matter)
The night life was phenomenal. The first night we went to the Temple Bar district which was an area of Dublin that was entirely devoted to the Temple bar and its shenanigans. As we walked into the bar the atmosphere was golly but no different then any bar back in the U.S. yet as we worked our way around we soon found out that this was no ordinary drinking establishment. There were multiple rooms in which different types of people could enjoy themselves. At the entrance there was strictly a stand-up bar with tables and stools but in the middle there was an indoor smoking room with no roof, which allowed the fumes to escape the bar easily. In another room there was a live band playing Irish folk music as well as “Ring of Fire”, and “Wonderwall” yet in the other rooms you could not hear it. All of these festivities were great, but the beer made it absolutely fantastic. I have never been a huge fan of Guinness here in the states but all of that changed that one fateful night in the Temple Bar. The combination of the foam with the smooth, rich taste of that silky, black liquid gold made my very ordinary looking Guinness pint, turn into a challis of champions. I immediately ordered a tab and my night began.
From singing the “Wild Rover” to locking arms with my American comrades, Temple Bar turned into a rip roaring circus for us. From traveling from room to room, to ripping tequila shots with Angelica we made sure to live it up, yet our night very rapidly turned into a pub crawl. We soon traversed to two other bars and a night club in which cut the rug by showing off our dance moves that so naturally came to us in our drunken demeanor. We ended the night by going to a smaller bar in which a guitarist was performing and I specifically requested him to play “Yellow” by Coldplay, which we all sang. It was an absolutely amazing evening which ended with us stumbling back to our hotel room at around three or four in the morning. Although I did not go out every night of my trip in Dublin, most nights that I did go out were celebrated in this manner. Another similarity that I noticed was that in many pubs live music was being played. This made the experience of being in an Irish pub so much more genuine and so much more fun. In a pub in Blarney with live music Anna, Angelica and I danced the night away with a very energetic seventy-five year old man that had just as fast footwork as me! We were all greatly impressed with this elderly fellow but that was not the only thing that captivated our attention in Blarney.
Blarney
When I told my grandparents that I was visiting Ireland one of the first things that my grandmother told me was that I needed to visit the Blarney Castle. Thinking about it now I can totally understand why. The foregrounds of the Blarney Castle and the castle itself is beautiful. The green pastures, small rushing streams, and beautiful hedging only added to the towering majestic stone structure that stood before us. The inside of the castle was awe inspiring as well, considering that it was hundreds of years old and still standing, but my favorite part about the castle was that it was completely fit for my size! I am not the biggest person considering that I am only 5’ 7” but the Irish people were not known for their massive size and the staircases were testaments to that. Many of my companions were complaining about how difficult it was to move about the castle because of its cramped space yet I was able to move about freely and even go all the way back to the end of the dungeons. I felt completely at home! My ability to freely and comfortably move about the castle was rather awesome in itself but the view from the top of the castle was phenomenal. The quaint little town that was in Blarney was in perfect view, and the countless rolling hills were beautiful. This was only one of the thousands of perfect views that me and the rest of my class were present for. The rock beaches in Kerry had some of the clearest waters I had ever seen in my life and the way the light reflected off the rocks showed off the beauty of the Irish shores. A thick fog rolled through the country side during our journey through South Tipperary and our exploration of another castle which would seem inconvenient for pictures, yet it added a mysterious aspect that made the landscape only that much more beautiful. Even though we only stayed there for a very brief period, Phoenix Park was an absolutely remarkable view. The bright green grass seemed to go on forever which was only stopped by distant ancient mountains that touched the clouds. It was an outstanding view.
When we were finally leaving Ireland I was almost in a depressed state. With such a beautiful land, friendly people, and delicious beer, I seriously did not want to leave. As we said our fateful goodbyes to our tour guide Joe and hauled our luggage into the airport I knew that I would remember this journey for the rest of my life. Yet when I was in Heathrow airport I made an astonishing discover: I was present in a country that perfectly crafts some of the world’s finest alcohol and I hadn’t brought any back for the lads at home! Caytron and I immediately made the executive decision to quickly hunt for alcohol to bring back home from Heathrow airport. Remembering that the Jameson whisky at Heathrow was the same that they made in Ireland I decided to by myself a bottle, but I wanted my bottle to be different. I then made the decision to buy the limited edition bottle of Jameson because quite frankly, I believe I’m kind of a special guy so I deserve a special bottle! My mentality behind this was that when I would be drinking this whiskey or even look at that bottle I would be reminded of the wonderful times and shenanigans that me and my friends had in Ireland. The limited edition bottle also reads “Wherever I roam, it’s Dublin My Heart Calls Home”. I believe that this saying describes how I was feeling perfectly, because no matter where I go, where ever I travel, or where ever I end up in life I will always have love in my heart for Ireland.