Start: Kilkenny
End: a decent room in Ashfield House, Dublin
We had to get up bright and early since our
parking became not-free at 0800, but that was alright with us- I, personally,
got the best night’s sleep I’ve had since we got here, and I’m not sure if it
was the decent mattress or the fact that I had some valerian tea before
bed. Whatever it was, I felt fully rested and
ready to go.
 |
| W is also for Wicked Sweet |
We made straight for Wicklow National Park, and more
specifically for Glendalough. There is
an old monastic site there just full of interesting stone things- not to
mention two lakes, one of which is just breathtakingly gorgeous (there’s that
phrase again…) All told, Nathan and I
probably hiked about four or five miles in the park, which is not too shabby
for a girl who was sporting a cane two weeks ago. We found this one waterfall that was
particularly nice, so I took the time to sketch it while Nathan snapped away
with the camera.
 |
| Waterfalls don’t really lend themselves to being drawn, but that never seems to stop me from trying… I think it’s a fascination with the way the rock is carved away. |
Once we’d gorged ourselves on the beauty of the
national park, we headed over to Wicklow Town to gorge ourselves on some
delicious food. Specifically at theBridge Tavern, where Nathan had a lamb hot pot and I indulged in some bangers
and mash. It reminded me comfortingly of
England.
After Wicklow it was time to return at last to
Dublin, so we could return the car and get one last night of Irish fun. On the way, however, we had to stop to buy a
duffle bag, to hold all the presents we’re bringing home (mostly for nieces and
nephews, by the by). This turned out to
be an adventure in and of itself, as apparently duffle bags are few and far
between in the Emerald Isle. Eventually
we found a sporting goods store in a town just south of Dublin, and I dashed in
and bought a bag that was probably too big, but better than too small. Of all the souvenirs I dreamed I might bring
home from Ireland, I will admit that an Adidas bag was not amongst them…
We decided to drop our stuff off at the hostel
first, which meant a round of true city-driving for Nathan. Gentle Readers, my husband was awesome.
Seriously, I was so impressed with his maneuvering (in rush hour
traffic, no less!), and he got
parking right across the street from the hostel. The man is obviously much loved by the Irish
driving gods. Anyway we checked in, and
I had excellent banter with the
clerk, who declared me “true Irish” after I told him that both Vancouvers were named
after the man who brought sheep to the natives, and then confessed I never let
the truth get in the way of a good story.
And then it was back to the airport to turn in the
car.
It’s a very strange thing to be at the airport
when you’re not going anywhere- almost dream-like, in a way, because you don’t
have any sort of urgency. It reminded me
of one night many years ago (seven? eight?)
when I went to the Portland airport with some friends of mine, just to hang
out. We rode on the elevators and ran
down hallways and ended up on top of the parking structure, watching bunnies
silflay in the amber moonlight. It was
like a tiny magic kingdom all our own, and well worth the cost of parking.
But back to today.
We hopped on the bus back into the city proper,
now old pros at Dublin transit. The sun
was fluffing itself up in a manner than indicates it will be setting soon, so
once we were back at the hostel Nathan grabbed his camera and dashed out to the bridge, while I sat down and played Tetris with our new duffle bag.
It didn’t take long for me to get that sorted, so I joined him with plenty
of time to spare, and was treated to the sight of the River Liffey turning
molten copper. I also got in about half
an hour’s worth of pure people watching, which was fabulous. It had been so
long since I’d just sat back and watched people in all their random, erratic
glory. I found myself getting pretty
judge-y about fashion (an easy trap to fall in to when one is in the Big City), and
wishing I had gold stars to pass out for those who were Pulling It Off.
Nathan was roped into taking portraits for a few
different people, and one such set was a married couple from Singapore, whose
son was attending Trinity. We stood and
chatted with them for a good half hour, and even exchanged contact info. It warms my heart that there are such open,
friendly people all over the world.
Once the sun had finally stopped making a fuss, Nathan
and I dropped the camera off back at the room, and after much discussion
settled on a sushi place for dinner. Sushi wouldn't normally be my first choice, but since I wasn’t particularly
hungry (and figured I could always just have inari) and it is a first choice for Nathan, I didn’t put up any real
resistance.
It took us longer than anticipated to get there,
but eventually we found it: Yamamori. We
walked in and I immediately realized that this was not just some quick sushi
joint- this was quality. The music was low and sexy, the décor was a
perfect blend of east and west, and the service was impeccable. And the food! Oh my goodness. I did not have to satisfy myself with inari
(which, while tasty, is not really a
meal)- instead I ordered beef misoyaki and gyoza, but to start things off (and
to celebrate a long, lovely holiday) I ordered a plum blossom off the drink
menu.
Here is what I had to say about it in my little
black book:
“This is my birthday
in drink form.”
And, um, “my birthday in drink form” was pretty
strong. It also led to this deeply insightful
review of the restaurant:
“Everyone just shut the *expletive deleted* up
right now. Everyone in the world, because that is how awesome this
place is.”
Yeah.
::cough::
 |
| The top notation is, um, of note because it's the first time I've liked nori. Not sure how much of that was the drink... |
(I totally got the recipe from the bartender- it's not quite what the link provides, so we shall see which one is better.)
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