After a few hour delay at the Newark, N.J. airport, we made out of the states about 1.5 hours late, arriving in Dublin at 11:00 a.m. local time.
We took a cab to Karl Jones’ house in Ballinteer, just south of Dublin proper.
Our first stop was the Ballinteer House, for a stereotypical Irish “carvery” meal of roast beef, loin of bacon, cabbage and potatoes. We also got our first pints of Guinness.
We stopped at a nearby grocer for a few items, then came back to Karl’s house, watched TV, showered and passed out.
Karl’s sister Ciara came home shortly after six. She lives in the condo next door and met up with us. We passed out again and woke up around 20:00 after she got back from the gym.
Alun, Ciara, Karl’s cousin Martina and I went the largest mall in Europe, just a few blocks away and ate at the MAO Café, a Chinese restaurant bedecked in Andy Worhal-esque motifs of the Chinese leader. Nothing says pop culture like a restaurant stylized after a major East Asian dictator responsible for the death of millions. But the chicken was good.
Similar to Germany, I feel drawn to another cultural aspect of my ancestry. The Germans encapsulated the utility of purpose, i.e., speaking only when needed, lack of emotion and blistering intention, while the Irish encapsulate the need to share, talk, sing and drink. Martina and Ciara were very curious about our backgrounds while we asked little of them, in so far as both Alun and I, I think, are reluctant to pry.
They dropped us off at a local pub, which catered to the 20-something crowd. The customer didn’t engage us, much to my dismay, but 2 shots of Jameson and 2 Guinnesses only cost €16, so I have no complaints, mainly because I am now wasted. Alun also bought a European cell phone so we can contact the states if needed.
Karl arrives tomorrow morning and the plan is to head into Dublin proper before we meet up.