The Surreal Life Part III
Trip Start Jan 23, 2007
34Trip End Feb 23, 2008
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(First off I know it has been a while...so lets just pretend that between this blog and the last blog there was just the worlds largest comma (,) and we continue)
So burnt, beaten, and bruised (somehow) we arrived at Dublin's International airport. It was a bit of a relief for us to finally know that we were going to sleep in a bed, and I think Sarah and I were a little hesitant about what type of whirl wind barrage of happiness and tears we were about to get ourselves into. However in reality when I think about it, I really believe the only thing that we want to do was jump across the desk of Air Lingus and strangle the person that LOST OUR BAGS!!!!!
So I had the wonderful job of talking to Sarah (who given the situation is this compact little ball of furiousness waiting to be unleashed... it's startling and adorable) I pretty sure my exact words were.... "Breath... no breath...breath, BREATH...the bags are in Cork... yes the other side of the country," that was followed by an immediate hug (restraining and comforting tactics!)
We left the luggage area a little in a bit of dismay, with out a clue of what we were going to do to get our bags. We didn't have a lot of time in Dublin; my dad's party was the next night.... And then we were blind sided with the screams of my mother! It was wonderful, the tears the happiness... I got kissed about a thousand times... and then it began
We went straight to the most impressive hotel I believe Sarah and I had ever seen The Shelburne Marriot (in a Mercedes Benz taxi, with a driver who owned a million Euro home aka... NOT ARGENTINA). My brother was asleep on the bed (recovering from the Jameson's Factory) and the entire family assembled in my parents' room, along with my first Guinness of the trip. The partied continued into the evening.
The Next day we spent most of the day shopping; replacing the clothes that we lost...Sarah took Sean as her personal shopper while Patrick and I went on the Bus tour.
Dinner was wonderful; Cake Delicious, and afterwards we had a classic Irish House Party with Music, songs, and Danny forcing Sarah to do some really bad gigs and reels... (Our 4 min crash course did us no good!). I'm sure there is a photo of me doing push ups... yeah my four year old cousin Noah decided at 1 am it was a nice idea to teach me how to do push-ups... Being at the peak of motor function capabilities and in no way under the influence of some motor control altering substance, I got a lesson in Push-Ups.
We spent the next day in the Airport all day looking for luggage it went as follows:
1. Drank till 3am
2. Grandma and Grandpa went to church
4. 11am we start the Guinness tour and up top I had the greatest tasting Guinness ever!
5. 12pm we sprint back to the hotel... 45 minutes late
6. 2pm arrive at the airport
7. Half the group grows impatient and takes off
8. 4pm Sarah comes out from the abyss of the luggage terminal with one bag (the bag without our clothes in it... perfect)
9. 5pm Danny gets a 5 min lesson on driving left handed stick
10. 5:06 Danny kills the car for the 1st of one million times!
11. 5:30 we finally leave... 5 hours later than we wanted to
12. 6:00 The younger cousins need to eat again... so we stop and finally get back on the road
13. 9:00 we were lost somewhere in some town... on some road... I was supposes to be following the GPS but that damn stick shift really... I was all over the place, and I am sorry Jared and Jake cause I think, I taught you some words that you definitely should not know
So on this lovely rainy day, we all came to a complete disagreement (as a large, opinionated family who all wants to do something different) and decided to climb Crough-Patrick a hill.. Half mile in elevation that has a chapel on top, the hill is a religious pilgrimage for the faithful who wish to reenact St. Patrick's pilgrimage up the hill bare foot and fasted for 40 days. Well upon hearing this I was all about running up the hill shoeless, and then came the rain... the jagged rocks... streams... goats... and my certain realization that I would most definitely cut my foot and have to deal with it for the rest of the trip.
Well we were off to the races, and the pictures tell most of the story...but the best part is who ran up the hill... My four year old cousin Noah took Sean's hand and took off in front of everyone. This was a you-had-to-be-there-moment: Sean in his Coach Umbrella and Diesel Jeans running up a hill with Noah in his yellow rain coat PRICELESS!
Tuesday afternoon we ate lunch with my grandpa's cousin: Timmy McGrael, a Butcher in the town of Castle Bar where half the people are named Staunton (our original last name)
We drove a lot... Thank god, Sarah switched cars when she did or I would have lost an eardrum. We went about 500km up hill on a one-way road with rock walls on each side and traffic going both ways; my mirrors were touching the rocks on the wall... and the stress took 3 years off my life. But it was all worth it for the cliffs of Moher... I can't explain it you just have to look at the pictures (the pictures don't describe the wind though....)
Wednesday night lead to the demise of Thursday.
After paying the bartender to keep the bar open, my Mom, Sarah, Patrick, and I just about saw the sun come up....
I went fishing
Sarah went to the Zoo
Sarah, Sean and I woke up early and headed to Blarney Castle..
We kissed the Blarney stone.... I don't know if I'm eloquent?
And then we headed home... We got lost in Cork in some godforsaken turn-a-bout...but we made it!
So eventually we made it back to Dublin, dropped off the cars... (Mine was missing part of the front end however that wasn't my fault; I swear my dad took it off turning around)
The last night in Dublin my Mom, Dad, Patrick, Sean, Sarah, and I went out for a walk around Dublin, stopped in some pubs, and decided to go out for dinner. The problem is the entire town closes around 7pm and it was 8pm. The only things open were bars. So we walked for a while and after wandering past a couple restaurants that wanted 100 euros a plate... we ended up finding a wine bar.
Dinner was fabulous and the company was excellent..
Just at that moment my grandma and grandpa strolled by looking for a bar!
So the 8 of us went over to the smallest bar in Dublin (max capacity 14) and elbowed our way into the corner seat. Grandpa sang songs and we had a great time. Around midnight Grandpa got the urge to dance and told everyone we had to leave. Just down the block happened to be the largest club in Dublin. Yes, club... Techno 80s, expensive drinks 22 - 30 year old crowd... Club!
Immediately stopped at the door, the bouncer asked for ID from Sean and Patrick due to the fact that it was a 21 one and older club, plus Sean looks like he's 15!
Who comes to the rescue but Grandpa who whispers to the bouncer, "Oh these young lads, they're with me! No, NO, NO, don't you worry, they are with me!" and we were in!
We were the most out of place crowd in the Club, lead by my 78 year old grandfather out on the dance floor- He Danced! Grandma and Grandpa DANCED! (Waltz dances of course). As the crowd circled around them, the cameras flashed, I couldn't be prouder, and my grandparents stayed on the dance floor until 1am...
We all made it home around 4am... and in a blink of an eye Sarah and I were on a plan and back home to all of you
I was an amazing trip.... It was "The Surreal Life"