Weekend Update

So clearly, that last post contained some falsehoods. It may be chilly here in Ireland, but it is definitely not cold enough to snow. And if it were, the constant rain would probably wash it all away... That photo was actually taken (by me) in Galway last weekend, where someone had been carrying out... performance art? with some soap bubbles. A lot of soap bubbles. This weekend actually saw a bit of sun yesterday afternoon (just before it went back to raining), just in time for the All-Ireland Hurling Championship Semi-Finals. Now, as a certified Yank and very new visitor to Ireland, I am seriously under qualified to even attempt to explain what "hurling" is. Contrary to what I would initially understand by that word, this is not a sport in which Irish athletes drink to the point of throwing up. That is in fact called "Saturday night." No, hurling is a very manly sport with a stick that looks more like a weapon than anything else, and I have no idea what the rules are.

In any case, yesterday afternoon, the semi-final match between Tipperary and Waterford was held in the patchy sunlight in Croke Park, the stadium in Dublin, which just happens to be visible from my current residence. Now, normally, Croke Park looks like this:



But yesterday, it looked like this:


As you can see, it was a very big win for Waterford... (In all fairness, they haven't made it to the Final in 45 years, as someone told me as I was taking this picture.) I celebrated by meeting Roisin in the pub where she used to work, which was crammed with supporters of both sides, well into their cups by the time I arrived. The pub itself was gorgeous and very old; so old, in fact, that it still had a snug, which is the name for the room where women would be placed if they were ever brave enough to enter a pub. It is a pretty classy place, where the Taoiseach (say: "TEA-shock"), who is the prime minister of Ireland, used to drink as well. With these illustrious recommendations, I decided (with a bit of coaxing) to participate in another Irish cultural tradition: drinking a pint of Guinness. I did my fellow Yanks proud by finishing the thing, and did my wallet a favor as well, since a pint of Guinness is roughly equivalent to a full meal in terms of satiation level and calories. I wouldn't necessarily drink it again, but I would be a very poor visitor if I came to Ireland and didn't have a pint of Guinness...