Day four in Dublin. Annie was still not feeling very well and decided to take it easy for at least the morning. Steve had purchased a pass for the hop on hop off bus so away he went to see the sights of Dublin on his own. After our coffee at Mochaland, Michael and I set out on foot. I wanted to visit the Wax Works. Again, after a few wrong turns and constant consultation with our map, we thought we found the spot where it should have been but it wasn't there. Eventually we noticed a sign tacked to a pole - Wax Works moving to a different location, re-opening in April 2017. Dublin, this was becoming a habit.
While meandering the cobbled streets, we stumbled across The Hard Rock Cafe. Michael had an Irish Coffee, while I could only manage a cup of tea so soon after my mocha at Mochaland. Michael noticed a mirror behind the bar that had notes of various currencies stuck in it's frame. He offered the barman a brand new Australian five dollar note to add to the collection. The barman was chuffed and called the manager over who was full of thanks and cheeriness. I asked him if the Guinness factory was open. Given our track record so far, I didn't fancy another long walk only to be barred at the door. He said he would phone his rep and get back to us. True to his word, just as we were leaving, he rushed back to let us know it was open. Originally he said it was a good ten minute walk but then after circling the factory on our map, he told us it might be better to take a cab.
As we left, Michael tried to hail a cab but it sailed right past so we kept on walking, and walking, and walking. Forty five minutes later, we arrived at the Guinness Storehouse. Only to find a queue of airport check-in proportions in front of us. Not to be denied now, we shuffled along, eventually reaching the counter and paying 17 euros each (seniors' rates).
The building is seven storeys high. Each floor tells a progressive tale of the production of guinness, from the recipe of ingredients, namely hops, barley, water and yeast to the secret ingredient, namely Arthur Guinness himself, founder of the storehouse. Impressive as it was, there were long queues for the more interactive floors, such as how to be a beer taster and how to pull your own glass of Guinness. As it was, we had spent more than an hour winding our way upwards so we skipped the queues and headed for the Gravity Bar. There we received a free glass of Guinness, some great entertainment from a band playing contemporary music and a 365 degree view of Dublin. It was a lovely interlude after traipsing around for hours, all our aches and pains coming to the fore.
Eventually, we felt compelled to move on and exit the building. Even though we were too weary to contemplate walking back, I had to coerce my husband to hail a horse and buggy. He grumbled like a grumpy old man until he met Molly the eight year old mare. It was love at first sight. We had to have a photo shoot before departing. Gavin the driver tucked us in with a blanket as it was a very chilly mid afternoon. Molly was very placid, not fazed in the least by the busy Dublin streets. Gavin gave us a guided tour of sorts on the way back. He pointed out St Nicholas Church, under which a Viking chieftain was entombed. Or was it St Patrick, or St Ignatious, can't quite recall now. Extreme cold (and age) addles the brain.
Michael's love affair with Molly terminated at Temple Bar and we were dropped off to walk back over the Liffey to the apartment. After resting our weary bones, and being regaled by Steve's rendition of the hop on hop off busdriver's shenanigans, we all trooped back over the Liffey, randomly went to the Auld Dubliner Bar and Grill for tea (more mash) and were treated to some great Irish music by a duo, Sharkey and Miflo Molly, two young guys who could sing and play the guitar and the banjo to match.
On our way back, we came across a volunteer group setting up a trestle to distribute food to the homeless. The fellow in charge said they were there Friday and Sunday nights and another group would be there Saturday night. He stressed they weren't a charity, just a group of people who donated their time as well as collecting food and clothing for the street people. I decided that I would give up my wonderful wool coat on Sunday night. I would never wear it in Albany and it was needed here. Back to the canasta contest. We swapped partners, couple versus couple. Michael and I lost. Which added to the theory that whatever team Steve plays on will win. Drat.
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