Dublin is Fueled by Guinness

When I arrived in Dublin, my bus from the airport broke down.  I asked the driver, “Is this the Central Bus Station”.  Nope.  I headed to grab a taxi, when I found out I was about only 200 meters away.  We weren’t at the Central Bus Station, but if we had been any closer I would have bumped into it.  Semantics.  The picture below is of the bridge over O’Connell street.  I step over a well clad panhandler who had a nicer backpack than me to take the shot.  What can I say, Guinness is expensive.

Below is Christchurch.  They take very good care of their landmarks and the city as a whole.  There are signs everywhere that say, “Littering is disgusting, so are the people who do it.”  Apparently dropping anything from gum to a cigarette butt on the street is a $150 fine, enough of a deterrent that the streets are spotless.  Cleanest European city by far–maybe we should try that in NY or Boston.  Although if we did the same program in New York, I think disgusting wouldn’t be strong enough.  Perhaps we’ll soon see “Littering is F$^%ing gross, I will stab you” on buses in the Big Apple.

I love old men.  This one was trying to avoid getting his picture taken by walking to the other side of the park.  Oh old man!  I got you!  The old men in Dublin are great fun, especially if you get a bunch of them together in a bar– there’s nothing chattier.

Another church, this time surrounded by a beautiful flower garden.  After this, I dropped into a bar called The George.  I later found out it was a gay bar, having an identity crisis. First there were the illustrated artwork featuring strapping men bent over Victorian furniture.  Second was the purple crushed velvet and rhinestones that decorated the wall behind the bar.  You might think this was enough to convince me, but I was completely thrown by the gruff, construction worker type guys, who seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that they were a) not gay and b) in a gay bar.  Apparently the love of Guinness trumps all stereotypes.

This is the fellow who insisted I take his picture, while I worried about getting mugged.  Really he did look a lot less friendly before I pointed the lens at him.  I like the guy in the background who is clearly amused by his buddy’s antics.  “Oy, whatcha trying to do der, give da girl some room, ya bastard.”