Day Two: What Do You Do With A Day Off In Dublin?

My first night sleeping in Dublin was an adventure unto itself. Jetlagged beyond belief, I finally couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and tucked myself in at 8:30 pm. I awoke later, thinking I had slept, but saw on the clock it was only 10:30 pm. And I was wide-awake, naturally. I decided reading was the best course of action, and started in on Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. No offense to Mr. Chabon, but it took only five minutes of reading before I crashed again, this time not waking up until my alarm went off at 8:00 am.

The only reason I set an alarm was due to Brendan and Catherine’s fair but firm guideline that “breakfast is served from half eight to half nine.” And I was not about to miss out on a full Irish breakfast. For those unaware, an Irish breakfast consists of bacon, sausage, eggs, tomatoes and toast. It simple and hearty, and a testament to the strength of the Irish will, as they are able to fight through the sudden urge to take a nap after finishing this meal.

It was after breakfast that I realized my situation. I had done the two activities I had in mind for Dublin on the first day, completely forgetting that I had another day to fill. So I set out wandering, eventually finding Grafton Street. It’s closed off to cars, and is filled with people, shops, human statues, and buskers (street performers). It creates a very European environment, something you don’t find a lot of in the US. And at the end of Grafton Street is St. Stephen’s Green, a beautiful park. It was a nice stroll, but my feet were still extremely tired from the day before, and my internal clock was still messed up. But I found the solution: a movie!

I can now proudly say that I have seen a movie in another country. The film was not Irish, as the only Irish film at the theater was a documentary about the war in Afghanistan, and I didn’t want to be depressed. So I paid for my ticket to see Bad Lieutenant: Port Of Call New Orleans. The film was a blend of Werner Herzog’s insane direction and Nicholas Cage acting more wild and insane than I have ever seen him do. It was terrific.

I emerged from the theater, refreshed and suddenly quite hungry. I realized that it was the perfect time for this, as the World Cup matches between Spain and Chile and Switzerland and Honduras were about to begin. I walked into the nearest pub, which was reasonably quiet, and treated myself to a chicken and mushroom pie and a Carlsberg (a light beer that is quite easy to drink). I had positioned myself so I could see both games at the same time, but the Spanish game ended up being the far more interesting one, due largely to the presence of two Spaniards. Their unbridled enthusiasm for their team was infectious, and most of the crowd found themselves rooting for Spain, who ultimately proved victorious.