A Long Weekend in Dublin
For a while I had this strange obsession with going to Ireland.
Why? Maybe because I’m American, and for whatever reason Americans are obsessed with Ireland. Or perhaps it was provoked by binge-watching Outlander—and yes, I know that Outlander takes place in Scotland, but Ireland was just as high on my list and, well, cheaper to get to.
At that time, my friend and I simply needed to getaway. We could both feel the weight of a dreary and gray Paris winter, and so we decided to replace it with a long weekend spent in Dublin’s very own gray and rainy winter. People asked us why on earth we wanted to go to Dublin in November, telling us we were mad. Nevertheless, we both seemed to agree that there’s something optimistic and reassuring about the land of the leprechauns. I personally went into the weekend adventure repeating “it’ll be grand’ every five minutes.
And grand it was! I’m not sure whether I could actually live in Dublin, or that it was everything that I expected, but we had a blast.
Upon our arrival, we went to Kelly’s Hotel and were unfortunately given the nosiest room that I’ve ever stayed in. The walls were paper-thin, and we were woken up daily at 6 AM to the sounds of dumpster trucks and party-goers screaming in the street. I’m fairly certain that neither of us slept much, and that we were delirious by the end of the weekend, but we didn’t care! We were in Ireland! Damned we would be if we let this get to us.
As for the food, it was terrible. Truly horrible. Dublin is not the gastronomic mecca of Europe, that much to me is clear. Try the Irish stew, but please don’t expect much. In the end, we ate a lot of cheap pizza, as well as fish and chips. Our weekend culminated at the local McDonald’s, and no, we are not McDonald’s kind of people. Nothing about Dublin felt healthy. The Irish breakfast I did enjoy, however. Like an English breakfast, it hits the spot.
The nightlife was another story. Both of us were a bit shocked and had never witnessed such drunken havoc. One of our first nights there we actually ended up in a club, with people falling over left and right. Sure, the music was super fun. But my night was over when a girl spilled her drink directly into my face. I don’t even think she realized what she had done.
On another night out we went to The Temple Bar—yes, yes, a tourist trap, I’ve heard! But a trip to Dublin isn’t a trip to Dublin without grabbing a Guinness at this historic bar. So that’s what we did. Although it was absurdly crowded and hectic, the live music was nice. Go here once, never go back.
My favorite night was actually spent in another much more low-key bar, where we got to hear locals play traditional Irish music. It was beautiful, and very quintessential Ireland. We also visited the Guinness Factory, because who doesn’t visit the Guinness Storehouse. It was interesting enough, and I’m glad that we went. I learned a bit about beer, but mostly I learned that I actually despise Guinness (and most Irish beers).
On our last night, we stayed out late exploring Dublin with locals and drinking Irish coffees. We headed back to our hotel around 3 AM like two fools, ready to pack and head for the airport—it was a sleepless Irish exit that I’ll never forget. The journey back to Paris was actually one of the most miserable of my life. I do not recommend doing this.
But back to the good stuff. The best part of our trip to Dublin was not the nightlife, or the beer, or the toasties (try these too). No, the best part was what we did during the day! Although we did a bit of exploring in Dublin, we spent most of our time just outside the city. We took a day trip to the Wicklow mountains on one day, which is not far from Dublin, and I highly recommend it. Unfortunately, one of the viewpoints we were hoping to see was masked by clouds (see photo), but at least we got to visit a mystical cemetery, and take a stroll by picturesque Glendalough Lake. I only regret not having had more time to explore more of the Irish countryside.
Our other day trip was to Howth, which I also recommend. It’s a small fishing village just outside of Dublin, and accessible by train. It’s your go-to when you want to stand by the sea, breathe in the salty air, and have fresh fish and chips.
That weekend was one of my last in Europe, and I couldn't have dreamed of a better way to say goodbye. Dublin gave me the carefree farewell that I needed; it consumed me with an "it'll be grand" mentality when I felt like everything was falling apart.
And that, my friends, is what I love most about the land of the Irish. Not only the land, not only its charming inhabitants... but the unfaltering optimism and attitude towards life, and whatever it decides to throw at you next.
