When it is Easter and you have to choose somewhere to go, where else is there but Dublin. Ok, so you could make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, undertaking a triumphant journey on donkey only to find yourself nailed to a cross . . . . actually I think Jerusalem is the last place I'd want to be at Easter, so Dublin seems a pretty good substitute. Also Ryanair prices Stansted to Dublin are a lot cheaper. We got ourselves a 1p flight leaving about 6 in the morning. Now, to digress for a minute, in airline speak 1p flights actually cost much more than 1p. This is because of taxes apparently. The government here, in their infinite wisdom, have decided that taxes on 1p need to be approximately 250 000%. This seems a little excessive when compared with normal taxes, even VAT (sales tax) here is only 17.5% in comparison. Whether this is a ploy to make VAT seem cheap is undetermined, but it prevents the poor airlines ferrying 300 passengers per flight across Europe for the 3 pounds that it costs them to run the plane for an hour. It is the best demonstration I have seen for the arguments in favour of government non interference in the economy. Still, we got return flights for around 60 pounds all up, or would have if we didn't need to take a bag, which costs a little more. 33 percent more actually. As our bag weighed much less than 1/3rd our combined weight the maths left us a little puzzled. Still cheaper than driving and training though and that's all that matters.
We arrived in Dublin around 8am on Good Friday and made our way into the city. We found ourselves some breakfast, wondered about the 60m phallic symbol in the main street and took a bus tour around the city. After lunch we took a taxi to our hotel and realised we shouldn't have spent our money on the bus tour. Our taxi driver was the friendliest, most talkative but informative ride either of us have ever taken. We definitely would have been better just giving him money to drive us round for an hour. That said the people in Dublin were generally extremely friendly, far more so than you find in London. They still had their share of Eastern Europeans, who generally aren't suited to jobs in the service industry, but overall it was one of the friendliest places we've been to so far, maybe apart from Bangkok, but not in the same way.
The hotel we stayed at had one of the most impressive facades I've seen for a hotel anywhere. The hotel was called Clontarf Castle and the main structure was certainly part of a castle that has been in the area for many centuries. We chose it because Krystle said as she was a princess she needed to stay in accommodation befitting, whatever that means. The most tragic occurrence that happened while we were in Dublin, brace yourself this may be hard for some of you to handle, was the discovery that despite everything we've ever learnt about religion, Dublin is effectively a dry city on Good Friday. NOOOOOO!, I hear your shout, whatever will our intrepid heroes do. Sorry I was just musing on the intrepid heroes part. . . . luckily a Princess is not without her power and she was able to declare an amnesty on serving alcohol at the aply named Knight's Bar that was part of the modern addition to our castle. So we were able to have ourselves a bottle of wine (Jesus's blood) on Good Friday, and lived happily ever after.
The front of the hotel.
The guardhouse that protected us from maurading vikings and the like.
On the Saturday we went up the line (on the train) to a coastal village named Howth (said Hoth). It was a sweet and picturesque fishing village and despite the weather, and also because of as the day oscillated between sun, rain and hail, we had a very nice day. We had a look at the fishing boats, were entertained by the the seals that swam in the harbour and marvelled at how such a small town had so many hairdresses. It was similar in character to somewhere like North Haven or Laurieton with more appealing pubs.
The seaside town of Howth looking from the fishing wharfs across the prot to the main street
One of the smaller fishing boats, very rustic!
We saw a number of seals frolicking in the harbour that entertained crowds of people.
A friendly dog covered in hail. From our admittedly limited experience it seems to hail in Dublin every afternoon at 1.30 pm.
A graveyard near our hotel that we explored as we walked to the station. We thought it may have been the resting place of brave knights slain in the defence of their castle, but some of the graves were from as recently as 2003 (and not BC). In the background you can see the remains of a church.
Here is the old church steeple still intact.
And here is the rest of the church no longer intact. Being Easter I was looking for somebody to take confession for me, but nobody seemed available.
We arrived in Dublin around 8am on Good Friday and made our way into the city. We found ourselves some breakfast, wondered about the 60m phallic symbol in the main street and took a bus tour around the city. After lunch we took a taxi to our hotel and realised we shouldn't have spent our money on the bus tour. Our taxi driver was the friendliest, most talkative but informative ride either of us have ever taken. We definitely would have been better just giving him money to drive us round for an hour. That said the people in Dublin were generally extremely friendly, far more so than you find in London. They still had their share of Eastern Europeans, who generally aren't suited to jobs in the service industry, but overall it was one of the friendliest places we've been to so far, maybe apart from Bangkok, but not in the same way.
The hotel we stayed at had one of the most impressive facades I've seen for a hotel anywhere. The hotel was called Clontarf Castle and the main structure was certainly part of a castle that has been in the area for many centuries. We chose it because Krystle said as she was a princess she needed to stay in accommodation befitting, whatever that means. The most tragic occurrence that happened while we were in Dublin, brace yourself this may be hard for some of you to handle, was the discovery that despite everything we've ever learnt about religion, Dublin is effectively a dry city on Good Friday. NOOOOOO!, I hear your shout, whatever will our intrepid heroes do. Sorry I was just musing on the intrepid heroes part. . . . luckily a Princess is not without her power and she was able to declare an amnesty on serving alcohol at the aply named Knight's Bar that was part of the modern addition to our castle. So we were able to have ourselves a bottle of wine (Jesus's blood) on Good Friday, and lived happily ever after.
The front of the hotel.
The guardhouse that protected us from maurading vikings and the like.On the Saturday we went up the line (on the train) to a coastal village named Howth (said Hoth). It was a sweet and picturesque fishing village and despite the weather, and also because of as the day oscillated between sun, rain and hail, we had a very nice day. We had a look at the fishing boats, were entertained by the the seals that swam in the harbour and marvelled at how such a small town had so many hairdresses. It was similar in character to somewhere like North Haven or Laurieton with more appealing pubs.
The seaside town of Howth looking from the fishing wharfs across the prot to the main street
One of the smaller fishing boats, very rustic!
We saw a number of seals frolicking in the harbour that entertained crowds of people.
A friendly dog covered in hail. From our admittedly limited experience it seems to hail in Dublin every afternoon at 1.30 pm.
A graveyard near our hotel that we explored as we walked to the station. We thought it may have been the resting place of brave knights slain in the defence of their castle, but some of the graves were from as recently as 2003 (and not BC). In the background you can see the remains of a church.
Here is the old church steeple still intact.
And here is the rest of the church no longer intact. Being Easter I was looking for somebody to take confession for me, but nobody seemed available.
