10 million pints of Guinness
The Guinness Brewery in Dublin claims it produces ten million pints of Guinness each day for distribution to more than 50 countries world wide.
After spending the weekend in Dublin, it seems to me that the large portion of those ten million pints actually only travel the 4 blocks from the Brewery down to Temple Bar.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not holding myself up as the poster girl for sobriety, but somewhere between midnight and 3am Temple Bar transforms itself into Temple Barf, where a large portion of your evening is spent testing your reflexes and dodging projectile vomit.
Admittedly, when I told mates I was off to Dublin for the weekend no one told me about museums or galleries to visit, but all had a favourite bar. Sitting waiting in the departure lounge with me were three groups of hens nights (all wearing “chicks on tour” t-shirts or matching feather boas) so I had an inkling that the weekend was going to be one long bender.
It was my first visit to the Emerald Isle and I was ridiculously excited about it. My father comes from Irish stock. Indeed if anything we have been told is correct my great-great-grandfather was known to Ned Kelly. From this we can deduce my father does not come from posh Irish stock, but is damned handy with a blow torch.
While only visiting cities gives you very little idea about the actual country, due to timing issues I wasn’t able to make it to the west coast, which by all accounts is the most beautiful part of Ireland. I was offered a day trip to Kilkenny by a local I befriended, but opted for a tour of the Guinness factory instead. I’ll go back when I have more time, a phrase that crosses my mind regularly.
As an Australian you have it drilled into you that the Guinness we drink down south is nothing like Guinness in Ireland. Something to do with the gas used in the kegs. We are told that Guinness in Ireland is creamier. I can verify this is true. It is. It still, however, tastes like a vegemite milk shake (except maybe not quite so palatable), and gives you a wicked hang over if Saturday morning was any indication.
Ireland, and more specifically Dublin, has been the home of some of the world’s best writers: from Samuel Beckett and James Joyce to Bram Stoker and Jonathan Swift. So if you end up on a literary pub crawl (as I did) where you have a drink in every pub ever frequented by a known author, chances are that if you didn’t understand the Dubliners before you set out, you will before the night is done.
Dublin is really easy to do in a weekend, as it’s actually a tiny city – only half a million in population and a fairly condensed CBD which means you can walk around it in about an hour.
Definitely try to get to a game of Gaelic football (GAA) if you're in Dublin in summer, which to the uninitiated is kind of like AFL with sticks. No amount of magic spray is going to restore a shin hacked to the bone with a stick however, so if you’re squeamish don’t sit close to the pitch.
The Guinness store house tour is kind of like the Coke factory tour in Atlanta (both tours about foul black stuff!) comprising 7 floors to the story of Guinness. What I found most amusing about the tour (other than the lesson learned that mint chewing gum and Guinness make the toothpaste and orange juice experience positively enjoyable) is that the third floor has an entire section dedicated to educating guests about what alcohol does to you and how to drink responsibly.
The seventh floor comprises the Gravity Bar, which is a circular bar providing panoramic views across Dublin. I must say that a circular bar, alcohol and being dim added a new dimension to the experience. I could still have been there thinking to myself “wow, they have a lot of buildings with green roofs here” had not my experience in the Guggenheim in New York come flashing back to me. Circular rooms are not my friend.
After spending the weekend in Dublin, it seems to me that the large portion of those ten million pints actually only travel the 4 blocks from the Brewery down to Temple Bar.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not holding myself up as the poster girl for sobriety, but somewhere between midnight and 3am Temple Bar transforms itself into Temple Barf, where a large portion of your evening is spent testing your reflexes and dodging projectile vomit.
Temple Bar, Dubs. In daylight it seems so innocent.
Admittedly, when I told mates I was off to Dublin for the weekend no one told me about museums or galleries to visit, but all had a favourite bar. Sitting waiting in the departure lounge with me were three groups of hens nights (all wearing “chicks on tour” t-shirts or matching feather boas) so I had an inkling that the weekend was going to be one long bender.
Cafe En Seine. The photo effect is a combination of a new setting discovered on my camera and alcohol.
It was my first visit to the Emerald Isle and I was ridiculously excited about it. My father comes from Irish stock. Indeed if anything we have been told is correct my great-great-grandfather was known to Ned Kelly. From this we can deduce my father does not come from posh Irish stock, but is damned handy with a blow torch.
While only visiting cities gives you very little idea about the actual country, due to timing issues I wasn’t able to make it to the west coast, which by all accounts is the most beautiful part of Ireland. I was offered a day trip to Kilkenny by a local I befriended, but opted for a tour of the Guinness factory instead. I’ll go back when I have more time, a phrase that crosses my mind regularly.
As an Australian you have it drilled into you that the Guinness we drink down south is nothing like Guinness in Ireland. Something to do with the gas used in the kegs. We are told that Guinness in Ireland is creamier. I can verify this is true. It is. It still, however, tastes like a vegemite milk shake (except maybe not quite so palatable), and gives you a wicked hang over if Saturday morning was any indication.
Ireland, and more specifically Dublin, has been the home of some of the world’s best writers: from Samuel Beckett and James Joyce to Bram Stoker and Jonathan Swift. So if you end up on a literary pub crawl (as I did) where you have a drink in every pub ever frequented by a known author, chances are that if you didn’t understand the Dubliners before you set out, you will before the night is done.
Dublin is really easy to do in a weekend, as it’s actually a tiny city – only half a million in population and a fairly condensed CBD which means you can walk around it in about an hour.
Customs House, Dublin - on the River Liffey
Definitely try to get to a game of Gaelic football (GAA) if you're in Dublin in summer, which to the uninitiated is kind of like AFL with sticks. No amount of magic spray is going to restore a shin hacked to the bone with a stick however, so if you’re squeamish don’t sit close to the pitch.
Christchurch Cathedral, Dublin
The Guinness store house tour is kind of like the Coke factory tour in Atlanta (both tours about foul black stuff!) comprising 7 floors to the story of Guinness. What I found most amusing about the tour (other than the lesson learned that mint chewing gum and Guinness make the toothpaste and orange juice experience positively enjoyable) is that the third floor has an entire section dedicated to educating guests about what alcohol does to you and how to drink responsibly.
The seventh floor comprises the Gravity Bar, which is a circular bar providing panoramic views across Dublin. I must say that a circular bar, alcohol and being dim added a new dimension to the experience. I could still have been there thinking to myself “wow, they have a lot of buildings with green roofs here” had not my experience in the Guggenheim in New York come flashing back to me. Circular rooms are not my friend.
