I don’t know how I ever got it into my head that Irish men were good looking.
Must be their accents, because on closer inspection a lot of them have a strange resemblance to Wayne Rooney, but unlike him, can’t rely on being good at football and massively wealthy to improve their mating chances.
But even if I did find Irish men attractive it wouldn’t have really mattered, because my weekend in the Irish capital with Ear Candle Wax Girl turned out to be a very girly one.
And that’s the beauty of basing yourself in London, Europe is on your doorstep and with the help of free travel comparison tool Skyscanner you can travel very cheaply indeed.
So for £60 return we settled on a last minute trip to Dublin to celebrate my last weekend on the continent.
Going all out we even booked a hotel opposed to a hostel, finding a double room for the same price as a bunk bed in a dorm room.
As for Dublin itself, it’s an interesting place, especially at the moment given their economic state.
But at least some Irish have a sense of humour about being in the PIGS group, judging by this sign near a cash machine.
Of all the crap there, it was the hair accessory aisle where things got dangerous, with Ear Candle Wax Girl and I finally discovering how those perfect London girls have perfect buns – the hair donut – an ingenious foam donut you put over your ponytail, cover in hair and boom – you have the perfect bun.
The fact I’m writing about my bun makes me sound incredibly sad, but I’m a low maintenance type of girl, so discovering a tool to make it look like I spent ages on my hair when I actually didn’t was quite life changing.
When we weren’t playing with our hair, we did try a proper Irish night out, though starting at a Japanese restaurant given I’ve lived off pub food for the past two months.
The night went downhill soon after, finding ourselves at a crappy overpriced Irish pub in the Temple Bar district, where I spent most of my time marvelling at the lady next to us, who side on was two dimensional and dressed in Grease Sandy-style Lycra pants and a tiny black and white striped full-sleeved Lycra top that only covered her boobs.
In fairness if I had abs like hers, or actually abs at all, I’d probably dress the same.
As for the actual touristy sights of Dublin… we did manage a trip to the Guinness Factory, though we walked around the premises for a good hour spotting about every Guinness sign – except the one for the tourist entry.
Here’s what we got:
On that note (given this is by no means the first photo I’ve got like this) – it astounds me that when you’re standing in front of a major tourist attraction and ask someone to take your photo, it should go without saying that you want the photo to document that you’re standing in front of whatever the hell you’re standing in front of.
I digress… Back to the Guinness Storehouse.
It’s a very modern building shaped as a giant Guinness pint, which includes an academy where you can learn to pour your very own perfect pint of the famous stout.
But no matter how many I pour, my appreciation for Guinness hasn’t changed – I still maintain it tastes like cold coagulated gravy.
So with the trip to the Guinness factory, shopping at Penneys, playing with our hair, eating, drinking and sleeping, our weekend in Dublin was over all too soon.
Before we knew it we were back in London and I was frantically racing around the city picking up items I’d stored at friends’ houses and clean forgot about, before departing for that magic place – home – though via South Korea and Sydney.
As a end note… a big thank you to Skyscanner for taking a punt on this blog and sponsoring my weekend in Dublin.