Back from Dublin... and no stories to tell. The weekend excursion was fun, but was nothing more then spending time in a big city. I'm almost certain I haven't seen an Irish person in three days, and I just got out of the capital city with more than a fourth of Ireland's population. Lots of Gypsy's and bad Borat impressions will be my memories from the trip.

Our hostel was located right next to the Temple Bar area, which is notorious for "hen" and "stag" parties, the American equivalent being the bachelor party. To add to the mayhem, Ireland played Italy in Dublin for the World Cup Qualifiers on Saturday night. I would have considered buying tickets for the game (50 Euro for the nosebleeds or 70 American dollars) but our program had pre-purchased tickets to a play at the Abbey Theater. The Abbey Theater was developed by Irish intellects such as W.B. Yeats to promote the arts and Irish artists, and boy o boy did we see a piece of art. If anyone ever has a chance to see "The New Electric Ballroom", know that it has my approval. The play was actually in the Peacock Theater, directly below the Abbey Theater and it was absolutely bizarre. I made no sense of it and neither did anyone in the group. At one point a male private area (penis) was flashed and at another point a women wet herself on stage. As I looked around the small theater of 100 seats and saw all my fellow students grimacing in shock or horror, I laughed. And laughed. And continued to laugh for the remainder of the play. I wish my brother Joe could have been there for it, he truly would have gone bananas and probably would have been forcibly removed.

Prices in Dublin are unreal. 3.80 Euro ($5) is the price of any pint in Galway or anywhere else we have been thus far in Ireland. The cheapest pint in Dublin was 5.50 Euro ($9). I didn't get a pint... poor little me.

I did a lot of walking around Dublin, James Joyce style. People watching was crazy and I did see some sights, but the overall city is just a city. Nothing really separates it from New York or Minneapolis/St. Paul and there is no Irish feel to Dublin. Originally a Viking city, then the headquarters for 800 years of British rule, Dublin lacks the Irish spirit that fuels the craic (good times) on the west coast. I've also come to realize I'm not much of a city boy.

We did make a trip out to the Newgrange, a prehistoric pagan temple/tomb, which I was unable to do on my last trip to Ireland. It poured rain for the first time since we have been in Ireland. My favorite part of it was there was some farmer in working in his tractor about 100 yards from this 5,000 year old monument.

It was a fun trip, but really made me understand how magical the rest of the trip has been. I guess I was due for a mediocre blog or people would stop believing what I've been saying. I have also realized there is something about the Irish people, not the landscape, museums, tourist traps, and cities, that really makes this place special. I volunteered my afternoon Wednesday helping J.P. Foyle, one of the siblings that owns the Park Lodge Hotel, and was rewarded by eating a delicious home cooked meal of lamb and potatoes while sharing a bottle of wine with him. This was a better experience than Dublin.

Tomorrow I will try to blog about day-to-day life and classes here in Spiddal, Ireland.

Voyaging onwards,

John Murray