Back to the Black Pool!

Yesterday we left Paris and flew back to Dublin. The trip was very uneventful... due to our late flight out, everyone made the flight on time, and since the weather was so phenomenal, there were no plane delays. Fantastic!

We arrived in Dublin around 4:30, and after an extremely long bus ride (we went the cheaper route and took the city bus, which takes much longer than the Express bus), we finally checked into our hostel around 6 PM.

Our hostel is pretty nice. It seems as if our room is part of an addition to the house, almost like a guest house with several other rooms. We're in a dorm setting, but it's only 4 people total and we have our own bathroom. Last night there was another girl in the 4th bed, but we're thinking the 3 of us may have the room to ourselves tonight. The hot water seems to work (bonus!) and the internet is working perfectly (knock on wood!), so we're all fairly content.

Last night we went out to the pub to watch the soccer match between Cameroon and Denmark. Samantha and I arrived first and needed to borrow chairs, as the place was pretty crowded. I found some harmless looking old men (as in, Grandma and Grandpa's age old), asked to borrow a few chairs, and then began looking around for the bartender.

Unfortunately for Sam and I, these old men were intrigued by such 'young ladies from America,' and took it upon themselves to teach us Gaelic. They taught us how to answer the question 'How are you?' in Gaelic, which sounds something like "Tanawa gah hana" (translation: I'm doing pretty well.) They also taught us that people who live in Dublin are called "jackies" and everyone else NOT from Dublin are called "coolies"... I'm sure I'm butchering the pronunciation now, but that's how it sounded.

Maria eventually arrived, and after that we got down to the real business of drinking Guinness and watching the game. After a while, the old men started singing old songs, which seemed to annoy Maria, but made me crack up. It definitely reminded me of how our family likes to burst out into completely random songs, no matter what the occasion. I missed Grandma a lot at that moment! She would have LOVED these 2 old guys!

Well, this post is too long already, so I'll save what happened today for Sam to update. Hasta la vista!

PS. To explain the 'black pool' reference in the title of this post, Dubh Linn in Gaelic literally means 'Black Pool.' As I can remember, the tour guide explained the pool as a murky marsh, hence the 'black' part. And 'linn,' in Gaelic, means pool!