Posts Tagged ‘Ireland’

  1. Guest post: How Novy lost his pants in Ireland

    January 31, 2010 by ChiaLynn

    NovySan sent this out as an accompaniment to my blog post about our trip to Ireland. I’m reposting it here so that Julia can read it.

    “The trip was filled with wonderful people, odd sychronicities, and good Craic. (Craic is the Irish term for good conversation, good times, hanging with friends, etc. Not Crack Cocaine.

    “One story sums it up best for me. It occurred during the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin. We had been invited to participate, rather than spectate, and found ourselves dressed in tie dye, faces painted, pushing a 400 pound sound system up and down the hills of Dublin. (I know, Dublin SEEMS flat. It’s not.) As a set of grandstands approached, I noticed I was having a little trouble walking. My stride seemed clipped. We were halted in front of the grandstand and I found out why I was having trouble walking. My costume pants had worked their way down past my hips, and just at that moment, they dropped to my ankles. Quickly grabbing my pants and frantically pulling them up, I noticed not 5 feet to my left, a seated chap in a green robe, with a very impressive gold necklace around his shoulders, a woman seated next to him, and a police officer with an ornate gold mace staring directly at me.

    “Yes, my pants had fallen to my ankles 5 feet directly in front of the
    Lord Mayor of Dublin.

    “After this I had no trouble smiling for the crowd as I giggled the rest of the parade route. It was only at the end when I told our host what had happened that he informed me that the woman seated next to the Lord Mayor, was in fact, THE PRESIDENT OF IRELAND.

    “So that was my St Patrick’s Day. How was yours? :-)

    “Sliante!”


  2. The Irish Adventure

    March 26, 2008 by ChiaLynn

    The full photo set is here. Here are some highlights:

    Saturday, March 15: We landed at 10 AM, picked up our rental car (which Novy did an excellent job of driving, on the wrong side of the road and with the stick shift on the opposite side) and plunged into midday Dublin traffic. After a few (did I say a few? Okay, it was more than a few) wrong turns, we made our way to our hosts’ flat, in Rathmines, and got ready to go to PaddyCon – an all day pub crawl with a group of Irish, Canadian, American and Czech leprechauns of which I, unfortunately, have no pictures – but if those who do would like to post links in the comments, we’d much appreciate it. (Update: There are a few pics posted here and here.) Along the way, we met Brigid in the Post Office (a lovely old lady who told us she’d been there in 1816) and saw giant French puppets in the rain.

    The Grand Canal

    Sunday, March 16: We staggered out of Ian and Gina’s flat and headed north, on our way to the National Museum of Ireland, to see the bog bodies. On the way, we passed Trinity College – I would have liked to see the Book of Kells, but didn’t feel like standing in line, so we admired the grounds and moved on to the museum, after which we wandered through St. Stephen’s Green, one of the most beautiful parks I’ve ever seen, and watched the sun set over the canal.

    St. Patrick’s Day: Thanks to Gina, who’d been working on the project for weeks, we marched in the parade, wearing tie-dye and pushing a sound system topped with a seahorse. Here’s a brief clip of our section of the parade:

    And as if that weren’t enough, once we’d wiped off the greasepaint and had a few pints, it was time for the Kila concert at the Olympia Theatre (followed by a few more pints, complete with spilled drinks and dancing, and excellent burgers at Rick’s American.)

    Galway

    Tuesday the 18th found us in Galway, on the other side of the country, and the single night we spent there wasn’t nearly enough time. Our host, Niall, treated us to a brief tour of the medieval city, excellent vegetarian shepherd’s pie, and a great bit of trad (traditional music) at a pub called The Crane.

    Tickets!

    Wednesday, March 19: Possibly the only thing that could have pulled us away from Galway so soon was a Christy Moore concert in Enniscorthy – our second trip across the island in as many days. And, oh yes, it was worth the drive. Enniscorthy’s a lively little town – lots of boutiques to let you know there’s some money around somewhere, and a neo-Gothic cathedral that was swarming with TV crews. (It’d been chosen to host RTE’s four-day Holy Week broadcast.) Across the river is Vinegar Hill, site of one of the last major battles of the 1798 Rebellion.

    Offaly

    Thursday, March 20: We left Enniscorthy and drove out toward Dunkerrin, deep in the boggy Midlands, where Dan’s family emigrated (or were transported) from. There’s not much there, even 150 years later, but we saw the church some of them may have attended (though it’s Anglican now – the Catholic church was built in the 1970s and still displays a picture of John Paul II), went through the cemeteries there and in nearby Moneygall. On the way, we stopped in at Leap Castle, whose owner kindly allowed us up into the tower, though he was about to go out. (It may have helped that our Galway host, Niall, once lived in the gatehouse.) Leap’s supposed to be haunted by a small, smelly elemental, but all we saw was a black-and-white border collie guarding the door.

    Friday, March 21 through Sunday, March 23: We left Port Laoise, where Brian (who we’d met at PaddyCon, kindly put us for the night) and headed east to Wicklow, where we spent Easter weekend with Randy, Mel and Captain Allen TurboButt, hiking the hills and recuperating from the preceding week. They live in Glendalough, just across the road from the Monastery of St. Kevin (though they’re moving soon, to nearby Rathdrum). Leaving Galway was hard, but leaving Wicklow was even harder. Still, leave we did, and drove back to Dublin Sunday, to spend one last night with Ian and find our way to the airport Monday morning.

    We're Home!

    Monday, March 24: Our flight left Ireland Monday morning, and landed in LA Monday afternoon. We said hi to the cat, had a drink under the lemon tree, took ourselves out for margaritas and calamari steaks at Casablanca, and went to bed around 8 o’clock. We’re already planning the next trip.