A Day in Dublin Learning Irish Folksongs

 Oh soon-to-be Delighted Reader,

Today was spent in the Irish capitol, aka Dub-linh — Irish for “black pool.”  If you think of that black pool as Guinness (though we learned today it is NOT black), then it is appropriate for much of our day. 

As to the title.  We ended up in a pub like a block from our hotel (and there are several that would fit that description) in pursuit of the illusive Irish traditional dish, shepherd’s pie.  Due to a Gaelic Football match (more on the next Obvious Brothers podcast, I’m told), they were on a reduced menu, so, no.  But…they had live music.  To finish the first set we heard, the guy sang John Denver’s “Country Roads.”  Much of the table (not me, shockingly) sang along.  The waiter wanted to know how we knew the song.  What do you mean?  It’s an Irish folk song.  DBrolaw laughed and laughed.  As we pointed out, the lyrics talk about West Virginia.  And there ain’t one in Ireland that we know of.  😂😂

The day began in pursuit of that traditional Irish plate, the full Irish breakfast.  I didn’t get a picture of Dbrolaw’s (he and Bitch were the only ones who got one), but Murphy’s had it and it was good, with two kinds of pudding.  DBrolaw cleaned his plate, beans and puddings and all.  There was a donut shop between us and the bus stop — DBrolaw was salespitched into THREE donuts…”I can’t make my mind up about my second one.”  “I’ll make it easier, you buy two and I give you a third for 8.50.”  “Sold!”  So he wolfed down a Bailey’s, a Dub (cream and chocolate filled) and a coffee on the bus (14 minutes) to the Guinness brewery.

RR’s eggs Benedict.

TK’s Turkish breakfast. 

Guinness is a big deal.  Acc to the sign, they buy 2/3 of the malt barley grown in Ireland.  IF you don’t know, the brewery goes back to 1759 when Arthur signed a 9,000 year lease (he saw the long view) for the site the plant sits on.  The rent is awfully good at this point.  The tour is blah…it’s all self-guided, with no clever tour guide or anything.  The highlight was the tasting room, where you got to smell four aromas before tasting Guinness out of a tiny glass shaped like their icon glass (kinda the shape, though more fulsome, of the Coke bottle).  

The other highlight, which is why you pay the $, is the drinking room on the top floor, which is still, for awhile, the highest point in Dublin.  I’ll give you the one shot back toward the center of town.  It’s a good view.  Guinness also gives you a free pint with your ticket.  Which appeals to some. 

From there we took the bus back to College Green, where we split up, with TK taking the group to the National Gallery of Ireland, on the recommendation of some people outside last night’s pub (promoted in part because it was free — the Guinness factory wasn’t), while RR and I went into Trinity College and bought souvenirs.  There were no tickets available to go through the library to see the Book of Kells or the great hall, etc.  

There was a wedding commencing as we passed through the quad.  This guy brought a distinctive look to it. 

After meeting up and dropping into the nearest pub (there are a surprising number of pubs here, though, to be fair, there are a large number of spires, too), for a drink and a plate of appetizers.  TK declared he was done with Guinness for awhile, having had it from the best place, the originator.  That lasted about two hours, if that. 

While the other three guys did a pub crawl, and learned something about Gaelic football (or maybe not; go Galway!), the rest of us “rested.”  

Then to the pub for shepherd’s pie they didn’t have and live music with the speaker right over our head.  The yelling led to a series of miscommunications, including the number of apple tarts ordered or not ordered, or reordered — the waiter thinking RR said “water,” when she said “order” and an extra Guinness brought to TK. (Hee hee). 

This is the “deconstructed” shepherd’s pie he got for his dinner. 

Deconstruction seemed to be a thing we did this trip.

I got an email from the owners of the last house, saying they were taking it off the rental market at the end of the year and they considered us friends, which seemed to indicate we could come back.  😊🥲

And then there was the endless concern about getting home.  Mrs DBrolaw doesn’t think their hour+ connection in Heathrow is enough.  We’ve been told our Monday flight out of Copenhagen is likely cancelled due to their pilot’s strike, which started last Monday.  Spent hours today looking for alternatives.  There may be extra blogs late Monday and beyond about the delights of Denmark.  I will report on whether something is rotten in Denmark.  Or not. 

And on that ludicrous joke, I bid you goodbye till…