Pub Fun In Dublin

PUB FUN IN DUBLIN


My wife and I enjoyed a last morning cup of coffee.  She said “Tell me again where your primary country visit is this trip.”

“I stop at London Heathrow airport for a quick meeting, and then I take the short flight to Dublin Ireland for a meeting with John and the British M.O.D.”  “Be sure to give a hello kiss to John and his wife, and a pat on the head of their dog Murnahan.” Barbara always enjoyed my tales from Ireland.

“The complete itinerary is stuck on the fridge along with all hotel telephone and fax numbers.” I gave my wife a kiss, and lugged my bags out to the curb in front of our house.  George, the limo driver, was just pulling up.  We seemed to have the timing down to a science these days.

I boarded the United Airlines flight to LHR, and found my seat in Business Class.  I looked forward to a two or three hour nap en-route.

After clearing customs, I met my business associate in the United frequent flyer lounge.  My business was swiftly completed.  After bidding my friend goodbye, I headed for the gate and my Air Lingus flight to Dublin, Ireland.  I looked forward to seeing another old friend and his wife.  I laughed to myself as I hoped that their overly friendly dog, Murnahan, would not pee on my shoe this trip.  A bad habit John and his wife struggled to correct. Murny always became excited when meeting a new friend.  "Yikes," the problems the business traveler had to put up with.

Ireland was one of my favorite places to visit.  One day I would plan an extended vacation here and bring along my wife.  A beautiful country with some of the friendliest folks I had ever met.

I arrived early morning Dublin time.  I quickly hailed a taxi, and ducked into the back after a hello to the driver.  “I’ll be staying at the Juries hotel,” I told my taxi driver.  I leaned back, let out a sigh, and hoped I could get some quick shut-eye.  I was pooped from the long flight.

A nap was not to be as the driver seemed anxious to start a conversation.  After the usual banter about my home and family, I knew more than I wanted to about my new “friend” Seamus. I said “Dublin always has so many cars, and open parking spaces don’t seem too plentiful.”

We had entered the city, and traffic was almost in gridlock.  “Oh yeah,” Seamus noted, “Parking spaces are like gold in Dublin city.  The Mrs. and I were out for a walk the other evening, and she grabs my arm, and says ‘Seamus, look an empty parking spot.’ I said what’s it matter, we don’t even own a car.  The wife then says, ‘I’ll hold this space, you go out and buy one.’”

After checking in at the hotel, I dragged myself to the room and crashed until about noon. This was my free day in Dublin, so I laced up my running shoes; gulped some strong coffee in the lobby, and headed out the door. I reintroduced myself to the doorman, and he actually remembered my name from the last trip.  He saluted and said, “Have a good run Terry, and stay outta the pubs.”

The sun was burning through the fog, and birds were chirping in the small park near the hotel.  A Blue Tit was flitting bush to bush, keeping up with me as I jogged next to the wrought iron fence that enclosed this green park dividing the cobbled street.  This tiny blue and yellow bird was also enjoying the morning sun.

As I finally loosened up I noted again with fascination  the many brightly painted doors on the row houses in Dublin.  I had asked my agent once about this unique feature of the houses.  He told me 'After the death of the Queen, way back when Ireland was still under brutal control from London, orders were sent out that all doors were to be painted black.  The Irish, always sort of rebellious, and in defiance, ended up painting their doors the colors of the rainbow.'

I wondered which story to believe as another was that the Irish wives got tired of their husbands going in the wrong houses when they came home drunk after an evening of drinking with their mates.

I jogged through the downtown toward the river Liffey.  Shop owners were opening up their stores.  All gave a friendly greeting and a big smile.  “Good morning” I said. One gentleman actually doffed his hat and offered his hand to me. I couldn't imagine that happening in the U.S.A. “Yep,” I muttered to myself, “The Irish are a friendly lot.”  I could only imagine the back-slapping that went on inside a pub on a Friday night.

I entered a residential neighborhood.  Milk bottles stood on porches; men were kissing wives goodbye as they headed off to work, children carrying lunch pales were trudging off to school.  A few housewives were sweeping their front door cement stoops.  All had a smile when I approached. A group of young boys were playing soccer…football…in the street.  “Come and play Yank.”

I guess my running shorts and shoes told them I was up to a game. The ball was sent flying at me, and I luckily managed to return it. The boys now surrounded me expertly nudging the ball to one another.

A woman was now hollering, “Sean, get back here and finish your breakfast.” 

One of the boys tugged at my sleeve and said, “Come on and meet me mum.  You can have a coffee with me.”

I was dragged by the hand to a nearby stone cottage, and Sean introduced me to his mum.  She said, “Are these no-good lads giving you a hard time?”

“Oh no, I was just on my morning jog, when these football hooligans accosted me.”

“Well come on in and have a coffee and something to eat, you look tuckered out and much too skinny.”

My dedication to my running, for health reasons, had shed the excess weight years ago. I declined the beans and sausage breakfast saying that running was best done on an empty stomach.

This travel encounter would definitely go into my travel note book.  I had written down names of the boys, and the Sean’s address.  They would get a kick out of a letter from the USA sent by their clumsy football mate. The photo I took will show up now and then on my screen saver. Four smiling faces posing holding their soccer ball.

Finishing my run, I walked the last fifty yards to the hotel. The doorman greeted me.  “Did ya stay outta the pubs?"

“I actually played a little street football with some of the local lads, and the strongest drink I had was coffee.” 

He said, “A bad rain storm is coming, so staying in tonight is the smart thing.”  He then said, “Oh, and try to take in the Hal Roach show tonight in the hotel.  Mr. Roach will have ya laughin silly.  He’s the treasure of all of Ireland.”

I remembered that John had told me he had tickets, and we were to attend tonight.

I told the doorman, “I have a business meeting tomorrow outside.  Do you think it will be squashed by the storm.”

“You’ll not be goin to any outside meetin tomorrow unless ya Have a large ‘brella’ and rubber boots.”  This storm is to be hangin around for a coupla days.”

The phone on my bedside table gave a shrill ring.  It was John, my agent.  “Meet me in the hotel bar about five.  I have dinner arrangements in the hotel restaurant before the show. Remind me that we’ll have to put a strict limit on the Guinness so we will be wide awake and know what in the bloody hell we are laughing at “

We had just settled into our show seats when a small man wearing large black-rimmed glasses strode onto the stage.  After a greeting he says, “A horse walks into a bar.  The bartender says ‘why such a long face.’” 

The ‘guy-walks-into-a-bar-jokes’ continued, and I told myself that I needed to write them down when I got back to my room. Fat chance of that happening I thought.

The storm arrived half way through our funny comedian’s show.  The thunder and lightning began to shake the windows. A bright flash of lighting lit up the theatre, and the lights went out.  A battery back-up light came on over the stage.  Hal Roach shouted above the murmuring of the audience. “The show is concluded ladies and gentlemen, and I am treating all to a beverage of your choice in the bar.”

We all crowded into the candle lit bar.  A single back up light illuminated the center of the massive mahogany bar. John said, “This should be quite an evening.”  He pointed out a group of very large young guys clinking beer mugs and singing.  “The storm has stranded a local football club, and it appears that they are several drinks ahead of the rest of us.”

The lightning flashed again followed by a loud crack of thunder.  For a split second a few dozen faces lit up as all faced the window.  Glancing out outside I could see large puddles forming.  Someone shouted, “Does anyone know where the ark is located?”

Through the laughter the bartenders hustled to take orders.  Finally they gave up and brought several large pitchers of beer out to the small tables. It was now about 9:00 p.m.

A young hotel bellman climbed up on a chair and asked for everyone’s attention.  Shouting over the din he said, “Ladies and gentlemen.  As you may have deduced the elevators are not operating.”

A chorus of boos echoed in the room, but our messenger continued. “Not to worry as our Mr. Roach has conferred with our young football heroes.  All you ladies wishing to retire to your room will be carried up the stairs by one of these strong athletes.”

Everyone cheered and more clanking of mugs and glasses were heard.

There was also a lot of giggling, but several of the larger lads made their way to the door each carrying a lady.  John and I watched the fun as we finished our beer.  John then jumped up and yelled, “My friend from America would like to be carried to his room.  After all he is exhausted after his long flight.”

I could have crawled into a hole, but one of the football players walked up, set his beer on a table, and said, “OK Yank, are ya ready?”

In the blink of an eye I was hoisted on his shoulders in the fireman’s carry. Everyone was roaring with laughter, and John says, “Hey Terry….a potato walks into a bar….all eyes were on him.” 

I told my human mount to “Hurry up, I can’t take any more of this.”

The next morning at breakfast, several of the Rugby players came over to my table to shake hands. We chatted about our plans for the day.  These strangers acted like we had been friends forever.

NOTE: Photos taken during this adventure can be found at blog:  tmac-traveltales.blogspot.com    POST: "Dublin Pub Fun"

Check out the photo of "Dublin Boys"  http://tmac-traveltales.blogspot.com/2010/07/dublin-irelandsome-pub-fun.html