Anyways, we finally boarded the plane, and as we took off, I marveled at the adorable innocence of children around the world.  In front of my, there was a little English boy telling his mother he thought that clouds were the consistency of cotton candy.  Behind me, there was a boy telling his father that he wanted to be a professional traveler when he grew up.  They were both so adorable.  I didn’t get a chance to listen to them very much, because within minutes, I was passed out, most likely with my tongue hanging out and a wee bit of spittle beginning to form at the corner of my mouth (kidding…sort of).

Before I knew it, the pilot was announcing our arrival in Dublin.  I got off the train and felt a smile bubbling up.  Everything was in English!  It felt as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulders; I hadn’t realized how stressful it was to constantly be thinking in French and trying to figure out how to ask for directions, advice, and suggestions from people, until I no longer had to do it.  In addition, I saw these weird, shimmering white things on people’s faces…teeth?  Could it be?  Were people actually…smiling?!  Yes, genuine smiles, even early in the morning.  Hell, even the simple thought that I was in Ireland was enough to put that large, dopey grin on my face.

I hopped on a bus to get to the heart of Dublin, and just missed the walking tour I wanted to go on.  I managed to find the tourist information office and grabbed a map and some brochures.  I thought I knew where I was going, but as I’m directionally challenged, I ended up on a random street corner, holding my map upside-down (and probably inside-out) trying to figure out where I was headed.  I must have had an absolutely bewildered look on my face, because a kind-looking older man came up to me and said, You look like you could use a bit of direction! To which I responded YES PLEASE!  And with that, kind old Jerry began leading me to the bus stop, which was easily a 10-minute walk out of his way.  We discussed some Irish history, the best places to grab a pint and eat fish & chips, and he was the nicest stranger I’ve encountered in months.  I mean, geez, ask for directions in Paris and you get scowled at!  Talk about a difference!

Anyways, I got on my bus (thank you, Jerry) and was off toward Kilmainham Gaol.  I made it just in time for the guided tour, where I learned a lot of interesting things about both the jail and Irish history.  The jail was built in 1796, and operated as a prison for around 130 years until 1926.  Our tour guide told us that children as young as seven years old were imprisoned for crimes such as petty theft, which I still can’t get over.  I’ll spare you the rest of the history…

After taking some spooky photos in the jail, I made the 15-minute walk to the famous Guinness Storehouse!  I was overwhelmed by how tall it was – seven stories, and shaped like a pint of Guinness to boot!  The tour itself was self guided, and I learned all about the ingredients in Guinness (barley, hops, yeast, water!) and how they are combined to make the perfect pint.  The tour culminated in a free pint of Guinness in the Gravity Bar, which is the 7th floor of the building.  It offered amazing views of Dublin, so I snagged a seat by the window and looked out onto the city sprawling in front of and beneath me.  It was incredible.

I slowly enjoyed my pint, and eventually decided to make my way from the Storehouse to my hostel.  After a lovely 40 minute stroll through Dublin, I arrived at Isaacs Hostel.  Chrissy had actually done the research on hostels, and I must say, she did a great job.  It was located only 5 minutes from O’Connell Street, and about 10 minutes from Temple Bar.  The hostel itself was really nice, new and clean, and the desk staff was extremely helpful and friendly.

After I dropped my stuff off, I decided to explore the city some more.  I walked down O’Connell Street and peered into the storefronts (English bookstore? SO AMAZING).  I walked by the beautiful Trinity College.  I walked down Dame Street, and “accidentally” stumbled upon a little pastry shop Kelsey highly recommended, called Queen of Tarts.  I knew I simply had to go in, so I ordered some of their famous carrot cake.  I (very carefully) shoved it into my purse to save it for after dinner (pretty sure I looked ridiculous carrying around a piece of carrot cake, but…well, that’s just me).  Carrot cake upright in tow, I decided to check out Beshoff on O’Connell Street.  This was the fabulous fish and chips place that Jerry recommended earlier in the day, so I had high expectations.  I ordered the cod and chips (even though I think Jerry told me the haddock was where it was at), and was very pleased with the delicious greasiness of the meal.

With a tum full of fish and chips, I decided to head over to the Celt on Talbot Street to wait for Chrissy, who was due in within a couple hours.  It was an adorable little Irish pub with live music and great beers on tap.  I tried Cashel’s, which the bartender told me was similar to the Bulmer’s I originally ordered.  Lo and behold, I discovered my affinity for cider!  I had a few pints and ended up talking to the bartender and to a Scottish girl and her mom.  I still can’t get over how friendly every one is!  After a few hours in the Celt, I was feeling pretty sleepy, so I headed back to the hostel.  Chrissy made it eventually, and the two of us decided to call it a night so that we’d be recharged and ready to roll for our tour of the Wicklow Mountains early the next morning.

After less than 24 hours in Dublin, I was already wondering why I didn’t choose Trinity College instead…

After all of this breathtaking beauty, we decided we were pretty hungry…and thirsty.  My friend Chris is a budding beer connoisseur, and so he did some research on places with great beer selections throughout Paris.  The one he wanted to check out yesterday was called La Gueuze, and happened to be one minute walk from my apartment.  We were a bit skeptical at first when we got there because it was pretty pricey.  We inquired about the happy hour specials, and suddenly everything was looking up again (ha).  Dan and Kevin got “beer missiles” of Guinness, which were 1-liter monstrosities.  Chris got a few rarer beers that he had been wanting to try.  I tried a German beer called Weihenstephaner Kristall, which is a beer from the first brewery ever, so that was pretty cool.  It had a unique taste, and it went down smoothly, so I was a fan.  We hung out there for a bit, and then came back to my apartment to have a few more beers.  Our beer for the evening was the (awful) Kronenbourg, which is made in the Alsace region.  Sounds fancy, but it was actually about 4 euro for 26.  Things we have noticed about beer in France thus far: it comes in weird sizes, weird bottles, and it is packed in weird numbers (who gets a 26 pack of beer?).

Random Tidbit: American movies that are dubbed in French have ridiculous titles, i.e. Shallow Hal was dubbed ‘L’Amour Extra Large.’

Tomorrow I have my first class, called “Les Grands Enjeux Scientifiques,” also known as “Problems with Science,” also known as “The Downfall of Katie’s Existence.”  Can’t wait.  I’m off to sleep.  G’night!