Ireland Part 2 - Foolin' around in Doolin

Before we get too far into 2008, we have a little bit of catching up to do from last year. You may remember a post back in August entitled "Ireland Part 1 - Attack of the Leprechauns" - well, here's the long awaited follow up!

After our disastrous Ryanair flight delay, we enjoyed a much needed sleep-in on the Saturday. This we followed up with a hearty full Irish breakfast, cheerfully delivered by our hosts, and we were ready to face the day. A glorious warm sunshine awaited us, and we discovered that tiny, rural Doolin and the surrounding countryside has lots to recommend it.

We visited the Burren with its stony landscape and ancient megalithic tombs:













And marvelled at the sheer beauty of the Cliffs of Moher:

A short ferry ride out to Inisheer, the smallest of the Aran Islands, showed us just how many dry stone walls it's possible to cram into a relatively small space. The effect is very picturesque, and makes it an excellent place for rambling.


We even found time to squeeze in a game of golf, hopefully not disturbing the cows too much.

There were a few drawbacks to Doolin's remoteness, most notably discovering the nearest ATM was in a town 15 miles away... But this was easily forgiven as we found ourselves in a friendly pub enjoying the rousing traditional Irish music that Doolin is famous for.

This part of Ireland is incredibly peaceful and unspoilt, and the people are so genuinely warm and friendly. It really is how you imagine Ireland should be.

Ireland Part 2: Attack of the Leprechauns

After a slightly disappointing tour of Northern Ireland and erm, northern Ireland, we decided we'd have another craic at it ... this time the western coast around Shannon. RyanAir are almost entirely responsible for putting Shannon on the tourist map, offering return flights from Bristol in exchange for 2 pints of Guinness and a four-leaf clover. Well not quite that cheap, but close.

However you do get what you pay for, and with RyanAir that means the plane you sit in has been shuttling back-and-forth between Shannon and Bristol all day, spending no more than 25 minutes stationary at each end, and with no backup plane waiting to take over. So if there's ever a delay, every flight from then on suffers.

After a mad Friday-evening dash from Bath, everything went quite smoothly and we boarded our (on-time!) 1830 plane with high hopes of getting to our B&B in Doolin at around 10ish. With cabin doors locked (not cross-checked though - that would cost extra) we rumbled out towards our take-off runway while the flight crew went through the final checks. And then the trouble started. Apparently a warning light in the cabin refused to go out (and I'm assuming an important one, not AFT TOILET BLOCKAGE - SUGGEST MANUAL DE-CLOG). They tried power-cycling the plane a few times, but were unable to fix the gremlin (or should that be leprechaun?), and we were soon herded back onto buses and sent back to the terminal, being told "we'll get it sorted and let you know as soon as we can".

The monitors in the terminal building told a very different story though - next to our flight number was the ominous text NEXT ANNOUNCEMENT: 2200 - a three hour wait - and that was just for an announcement! We eventually found out the story - only one mechanic in the entire RyanAir organisation knew how to fix this fault - so he had to be flown out from Dublin to come and fix it, which he then did in 15 minutes. There's something very Irish about a company that operates aircraft with double- and triple-redundant systems, but only one human who knows how to fix them! What if he gets hit by a bus?

Finally, at about 10.30pm, we got shuttled out to where we'd abandoned our stranded A319. By this time, the obligatory Hen's Weekend group were all nicely trolleyed, and were singing up a storm in the bus. They weren't too bad either, and when they launched into the der-dat, der-dat, der-der-DAT-DAT bit of You're Just Too Good To Be True the entire bus spontaneously joined in! Awesome.

We hit the ground in Shannon with a ragged cheer at about quarter-to-midnight, and were relieved to find that our car hire place had stayed open for us (others weren't so lucky) - although they stung us an extra 50€ for the privilege - grrr...
We arrived at the B&B at 2am, with an incredibly warm welcome from our host - would things finally be turning up for us in Ireland? Well, the next day we discovered we had a nice neighbour too!

Ireland Hopping: Dublin

Our final stop was Dublin, the Republic's legendary capital. On our first evening in town, we caught the bus in to the Temple Bar region, which is stuffed with restaurants and pubs. Sadly it seemed that so many other tourists had done exactly the same thing that there was no room left for any real Irish people! So our search for some good Craic was pretty unsuccessful.

The next day we headed to Trinity College - a very pretty campus once we found our way inside!
We checked out the Book of Kells - an amazing illuminated Bible manuscript - although again most of Ireland's tourist population seemed to be in there with us! All very interesting, but really just a warmup for another obligatory Dublin tourist-trap: the Guinness Storehouse.
Although initially it seemed to be another doomed-to-fail experiment - Bec is not an enormous beer fan at the best of times, and Johnny, not previously a fan of the Black Stuff, was feeling a bit unwell with a headache - the place was awesome.


After walking though the former distillery buildings and smelling the beautiful aroma of roasting barley, there was a "teaser" - literally just a shot of the locally-made Guinness. Perhaps it was reading all the old-time "it's-good-for-what-ails-you" advertising, but Johnny's headache evaporated almost instantly, and Bec announced it to be "not bad" - high praise from Miss Sauv Blanc!

Finally we got to the main attraction - The Gravity Bar, seven stories above Dublin with a 360-degree view and the freshest, most perfectly-poured pint of Guinness in the world. And what a pint! Johnny's literally disappeared before Bec's astonished eyes - it was truly a life-changing experience. This pint was so far removed from the thick, bready, tar-like stuff punters choke down back in Melbourne, it was like liquid silk. Not black; a deep red, with beautiful smoothness and complexity, instead of tasting like a 9-day old wholemeal crust. Magic.
Bec "savoured" hers for much longer, a pint being quite a tall order for a non-beerist, but even her untrained stout-palate appreciated the fine flavour and texture. She even felt a bit drunk afterwards - bonus! As we wandered around, filling in our last few hours before heading to the airport, we both noted that Dublin has a very similar feel to Melbourne - both in architecture and culture. So save yourself a trip - just go to your local Bridie O'Reilly's. Just kidding!!