I woke up early to partake of eggs Benedict and Irish bacon
on an English muffin in the Stir Restaurant in the bottom of my hotel. It was eggscelent. I sent a picture to my wife just to make
her jealous.
JM met me and walked me to the office. The weather this morning was cold, crisp, and
sunny; which according to Billet is a great day in Northern Ireland. I think his exact phrase was, “If it’s not raining,
then it’s a great day. If it’s sunny,
then make sure you’re still in Ireland.”
I met the “guys” today…or at least nine of them. They seem like a great bunch of guys. I surprised and impressed them all by knowing
each of their names. CD actually
asked me how I did that when we had lunch together. Day 1 is always the slowest day, because we
have to get in a rhythm, learn each other, and do an overview of
integration. In other words, I’m now
boring in two countries. As a matter of
fact, the class didn’t perk up until I gave them a one and a half hour
lunch. It really perked up when I let
them go around 3:30 p.m. I guess that
transcends countries.
CD, his brother SD, and PS invited me out for
lunch at Quay West (pronounced Key West).
They got a pitcher of some sort of fruit beer, which went surprisingly
well with the battered cod and chips.
Completely delicious. I had a
great time getting to know them.
This afternoon the sun disappeared and it started raining
again. Well, it was nice while it
lasted. I had let the guys go early, so
I decided to attempt a stroll around the city.
I was not prepared for the sub-arctic temperatures, howling wind, or stinging
rain; which, of course, waited until I was on the other side of the river…as
far away as possible from the hotel…before deciding to attack me. I did manage some beautiful pictures of the
Peace Bridge before heading back. This
bridge was built across the river to create a unity between the Protestants and
Catholics that had been warring in Northern Ireland for years. This is mostly history as the two sides of
intermingled through the years. The
bridge is a beautiful winding causeway with artistic construction and graceful
lines. It’s lit above by white lights
and below by purple lights that reflect off the river in moving waves of
colors.
Just off the river is a beautiful church that climbs into
the sky with orange-brick filigree, ending in a Big Ben-like clock tower. I can see the church from my room and hear
the bells toll every hour. The clock
takes on a pink luminescence at night, I’m assuming so it’s not so bright. It was very pretty against the dark-blue,
black stormy sky.
Now, off to meet the guys for a pint and a football
match. Go Ireland!
----
Back from the match.
Grabbed a quick dinner in the Stir Restaurant downstairs, so I wouldn’t
miss too much of the match. I tried a
Caesar salad and Sweet Potato, Turnip, and Honey soup. Didn’t care for the salad, but I’ve never
been big on Caesar. The soup was interesting. I sat next to two other Americans who had to
be some of the most boring people I ever eavesdropped on. They were talking nonsense about Thanksgiving
dinners in their past, and what they could cook to get people to change their
plans and show up at their house. But
even the way they talked about it was boring.
“What did I cook on the grill?”
“You cooked the corn.” “I must have cooked something else.” “You also
cooked some chicken.” I was rolling my
eyes at how stupid they were making Americans sound.
I high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could and got to
the pub ten minutes into the match.
CD met me there with his brother and their friends. He bought me a Guinness, because you can’t go
to Ireland and not try a Guinness. I had
foreseen this inevitability, which is why I hydrated and ate some dinner before
going. I must be developing a tolerance,
because it didn’t seem to affect me at all.
I did determine that no matter where I drink, I still hate alcohol.
The match was good.
Ireland pulled it out 2-0 and qualified for Euro 2016. The place was deafening. Awesome experience!
