From the beginning, I'd had concerns that Aer Lingus was not allowing enough connection time for us at O'Hare Airport in Chicago. They'd given us ninety minutes...or, maybe in reality, I'd chosen that flight because it was a bit less expensive than others, while assuming they certainly would not have offered it if it was problematic. Of course they wouldn't! Of course... But barely. As those of you know (who are a bit more worldly than we) arriving at O'Hare's Terminal One on United (flying as Aer Lingus) only to connect with Aer Lingus (flying as United) means one has to make a mad dash from Terminal One to Terminal Five. In the process, we have left security, boarded a train, ridden a train, exited a train, re-entered security, stripped off our sweaters, shoes, and belts...all the while explaining once again, "I have an artificial hip and wear an underwire bra," and then--finally-- running to the farthest gate in Terminal Five only to hear, "No, you do NOT have time to go to the Ladies Room." Ohhhhh, these people will be sorry! I had chosen Aer Lingus both for its attractive price posted briefly last April, and because I had wanted our Irish experience to begin the second we boarded the official Irish airline in Chicago. However, despite the fact that Air Lingus charges for wine if you're booked into steerage, they did deliver us safe and sound in Dublin, I have long believed that any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, and so I am ready to forgive all that went before.
Safely in the Dublin airport, we must now gather our luggage, board "Aircoach" and be whisked to our hotel--O'Callaghan Stephens Green. We accomplished the "gathering" although our bags were the last to tumble onto the carousel. We eventually found Aircoach, where we soon realized the address of our hotel was: "At St. Stephens Green." No street, no lane, no boulevard...simply "At St. Stephens Green." Unfortunately, St. Stephens Green is larger than a town I once lived in, and it had become increasingly important to Aircoach that we know which specific stop was ours. I had thought that might be part of their job description, to know where St. Stephens Green was, but apparently not. Sensing my heightened level of stress, two very nice people entered the conversation and each told us exactly where the hotel was and which stop would be closest to it. Unfortunately, although they both seemed to carry some authority, they couldn't agree on the location of O'Callaghan's. Frustrated, but pleasant, the dispatcher shooed us onto the bus, instructing us to ask the driver...he would know. Actually, he didn't, but a sweet woman sitting in front of us studied the map, pointed to an intersection, and we quickly exited.
Welcome to Dublin!
Ah...St. Stephens Green--just as advertised! With only a few wrong turns (there are no--or at most, very few--street signs), we managed to schlep our baggage a few blocks here, a few blocks there, and finally to the doors of O'Callaghans where we quite literally ran into two young men who recognized our Kansas State luggage tags. They were our new best friends for a few minutes but then their car arrived and they were off for a round of golf. We checked in easily, our room was quite nice--and collapsed! But, BC was hit with his second wind, and we were off for a neighborhood wander.
Grafton Street--Dublin's always busy pedestrian mall.
Never shy, BC meets Molly Malone at the head of Grafton Street. Known as the "tart with the cart" she's a buxom girl for sure.
Later we arrived at BC's favorite Dublin pub (O'Neills) where we ended up three nights in a row. Per Rick Steves, the first night in a pub you're a guest, the second you're a friend. BC loved that line and tested it often.
BC's new favorite motto...for a few days, anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment