This morning, to the sound of the kegs of Guinness being thrown into the pub basements, I awoke feeling like I was starting to come down with a little cold/headache. I had felt it creeping up on me for the last few days and I had been hoping it would just pass. I really don’t want to get any worse, so I decided to take it easy today and not try anything heavy. I started my morning of by writing and downloading pictures followed up by a little time on the internet and an early Irish lunch, that included the normal four types of potato (mashed, roasted, fries, boiled), cabbage and pork. Oh, and I even found the reason Ireland is so badass.
I had seen a movie theatre on the way to my hostel yesterday, so after lunch I headed over to see something. I ended up watching 16 Blocks (in a giant theater), then meandering back to my hostel to take a short nap. I was feeling better when I woke up, so I booked a tour for the next few days around the coast of Ireland and headed out to have a couple of pints and watch some live Irish music. The music and Guinness was great but after a couple of hours I set about trying to get some night shots of the River Liffey, Haypenny Bridge, and the Temple Bar area. I went back to the hostel and called it an early night around 10:30pm, hoping that tommorow I would feel better.
Got kicked out of my hostel at 11:30, and even though my flight to Dublin wasn’t until 5pm I thought I would go check out the shuttle stop that would take me to the airport. The subway was full of singing musicians asking for change and eight stops later I arrived at the Brussels Midi train stations, where I heard a rumor that there was a out to the 2nd Brussels airport (not the main one) 50 kilometres away. I talked with a charming young lady at tourist information and she sent me off in the right direction to find the bus. I found the stop and the bus driver told me they left every hour from there and it takes about 30 minutes to get there. I had about an hour and forty-five minutes to kill, unless I wanted to spend it sitting in the airport (which I didn’t).
I headed back into the train station and found a bookstore because my copy of National Geographic was just about exhausted. I bought a copy of The Zahir by Paulo Couhlo (he also wrote The Alchemist, which found absolutely wonderful, and strongly recommend it), and went down the street to find a cafe where I could sit and finish my magazine by reading the article about earthquakes, and start reading my new book. Paulo didn’t let me down with The Zahir, and I slammed the first sixty pages sitting in that cafe drinking coffee. I ran off to catch my shuttle and continued reading the entire bus ride, the entire wait for the plane, the entire plane ride, and the entire shuttle ride into Dublin. By seven-thirty when I checked into my hostel I had finished 270 pages of a 290 page book.
I pulled myself away from the book for enough time to go out and find some dinner of an Irish stew and a pint of Guinness. After dinner I walked around and took a few pictures, only to have the book call my name and I headed back to the hostel common room to finish up my book then possible go out. I got through three pages before an Aussie came in and put on a movie, Saving Private Ryan, and I was distracted by scene of war and gore. I watched the whole movie, which I hadn’t seen in quite a while, and picked my book up ready to finish it before bed. I got through four more pages before the hostel staff came in and told me the common room was closing and I had to leave. I ended up reading the last thirteen pages in the stairwell.
After a hard day of reading about the power of love and everything it is meant to be, I headed out to have another pint before bed. I am in Ireland after all, Guinness is my favourite beer in the world, and it tastes so fresh here being so close to the brewery.