Dublin
The first time I went to do an Ideal Home exhibition in Dublin was in the spring of 2002. I had just left the ferry one evening and was trying to reach my hotel at Dun Laoghaire, (Dunleery to us English). According to my map I should have reached it three hours ago but realising I was lost I pulled up in a street and got out of my car to look for signs.
After awhile a couple came along the road. "Can you tell me how to get to Dun Laoghaire please?" I asked. The man pointed to a bus stand and advised me I needed the number 22a which went to Dun Laoghaire. I gestured to my car and said "I'm in my car what do I do?" "Easy" he said "wait for the 22a bus then follow it"
That reminds me off a joke when Pat and Mick went drinking in Darlington one night and missed the last bus home to Spennymoor.
As they were walking past the bus depot at Darlington they saw a side door open. Pat said "Mick get in there and pinch a bus and we won't have to walk home". "Ok" said Mick and off he went. Pat waited and waited, eventually Mick came out without a bus. "What took you so bloody long?" asked Pat. "I'm sorry but I couldn't find a number 15 bus" explained Mick. Pat couldn't believe he was that thick. "You stupid bastard" he yelled, "Get back in there and pinch a number 18 to Aycliffe, we can walk the rest of the way".
There was a canny pub in Dun Laoghaire near to my digs. ( That's no real coincidence as I make sure there is always a bar nearby. The only time I ever made a mistake was in Jersey. I always got the job to book a hotel for our group while we there. This proved harder every year due to previous hotels closing down or pretending to be knocked down after our last visit. That year when we reached our hotel in St. Aubins, Jersey and found there was no bar I was roundly set on by Ian and the others.
It wasn't really my fault, any hotel calling itself 'The Harbour Inn' and not having a bar should be sued.) Anyway getting back to Dublin, I'd taken my latest spy thriller, bought a pint of Guinness and found a corner in which to settle for the evening.
Nice pub, canny food but too bloody dark to read a book. So I went and sat on a stool at the bar where I could read in the light from the numerous televisions showing the footy. One of the bartenders saw my book and said he'd just read it.
He proceeded to talk about it when I said ' Please don't tell me the end '. 'No I wouldn't do that' he said '
Who'd have thought the fecking professor was the bad guy!' 'You said you wouldn't tell me the end' I cried, 'I didn't, that happens three quarters of the way through, the end is when he falls over the fecking cliff!'
The next night sitting at the bar having a bar meal, ( their goujons of chicken are superb ) a lady who was standing next to me started eating my chips.
As I looked round the large man sat next to her told her 'Leave the gentleman's chips alone Dear'. He smiled shook my hand and introduced himself and his wife, and also the two smart au pairs with them. That's the thing about Ireland, they are all so bloody friendly.
After chatting a while and telling me about his business ( import export ) he said they had to go as his crew were waiting at his yacht. Then his wife planted a full kiss on my lips and walked off with the last of my chips.
About the Guinness, I'm normally a lager man nowadays but there is only one way to drink Guinness and that's in a Dublin bar such as Davey Byrnes or O'Neills. You have to try it even if you don't like beer, its nectar. The picture above is from my painting of Davey Byrnes bar.
Published: 20th May 2006 | Back to Watercolour Memories.
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