Day two. No sign of life from the Johnsons so Michael and I went for a short walk. This turned into a trek as we quickly lost our bearings and became hopelessly lost. We walked through St Stephens Green where a monument commemorates the 1916 Easter Uprising, past Trinity College and ended up in the diplomatic and business district, passing Embassy after Embassy, solicitors' firms, medical specialists and the like. Eventually we found a tourist bureau where a helpful young man set us back on track.
On the way back to the apartment, just around the corner, was a café named Mochaland. My hopes rose. I'm not sure if I mentioned in the Paris days that most of the coffee we drank there was disappointing. A short black might taste fine but as we preferred a cappuccino, mocha or latté, we were out of luck. The French baristas we encountered definitely did not love their milk when frothing.
We ventured inside to a very little space, with lots of little tables, elbow room only. Most of the patrons were tucking in to very large breakfasts, the common theme being scrambled eggs. A quick glance at the menu confirmed this one and only choice of egg. We were seated a few minutes later by a friendly young man and ordered our coffees. A latté for Michael and a mocha for me. The barista here definitely loved his milk, the coffee was divine. We didn't actually say so but we both knew we'd be back every day for the duration.
Back at the apartment, Annie and Steve were preparing to go out. Annie was suffering badly with a sinus infection so, after a breakfast of tea and toast with vegemite (yes, we found a jar in the local supermarket), she and Steve went to a medical centre in Dame Street, downtown Dublin.
Michael and I set off again to explore Temple Bar, an area of Dublin renowned for pubs and restaurants and generally the place to enjoy Irish nightlife. We crossed the River Liffey via the Millennium Bridge and into Temple Bar territory. After a few wrong turns, we ended up at another Tourist Bureau, getting directions to the Foggy Dew and Bad Bob's. Michael also asked the somewhat less than cheery fellow about golf courses in the area. He obliged with a map, marking a couple of places about half an hour by train from Dublin. He also told us that the Jameson Distillery was closed for renovations but they were still doing tastings at a pub next door.
We found the Foggy Dew which we thought might be a likely spot for New Year's Eve. We had a quick peek inside, it seemed a cosy pub, although completely empty. On to Bad Bob's which was
teeming with young people who appeared to be part of a tour group. We grabbed a seat at the bar, and had our first Guinness. It was light and smooth and went down a treat.
At the apartment, we reunited with the Johnsons. Annie had managed to make an appointment to see a doctor and was now fortified with antibiotics to try and rally in time for the flight to New York the
following week.
Leaving them to rest, we set off again to find one last pub that Jason, the waiter from Melbourne, had recommended. He said it was one that the locals frequented so it seemed a candidate for NYE. Along the way, we found Jameson's and sure enough it was well and truly corked up. The tastings were at The Generator just around the corner. We decided to forego this pleasure and pressed on to the Cobblestone Pub, only to find it didn't open until 4pm and more to the point, didn't serve meals.
On our way back to the apartment we found the Talbot St mall. On our last lightning visit five years ago, Annie and I had a ball shopping in Dunnes Department store. It was definitely on our to do list. In our absence, Annie had rallied and gone shoppping at the Jervis Shopping Centre, very close to the apartment. She bought up a storm from a shop within called Dorothy Perkins. Now Dorothy Perkins is the name of the rosebush we bought Annie when her Mum Dorothy passed away. We both agreed it was a sign from Dotty on high to buy more clothes!
For dinner, we went back over the Liffey to Temple Bar which was fairly hopping by nightfall. Most of the pubs were packed to bursting including the Foggy Dew where we landed but conversation was tricky so after one drink we moved on, ending up at an upstairs restaurant called The Old Mill where we all had a huge meal, loads of mashed potato and few vegetables. Not even Steve, renowned for loving a hearty meal, could finish his lamb shanks and mash No greens and big mash was to become a running theme of our Irish meals.
No comments:
Post a Comment