It's been a while, there's some catching up to do

It's been some time since my last post, but more since the last documentation of events - considering I did Queen's Day and Dublin back-to-back, I should have written them as such. But I've been lazy and committing it all to text has gotten away from me.

So, on the 5th of May, I jetted my way over to Dublin with barely a Country Road bag full of clothes, ready to meet up with Shivs (whom I hadn't seen since I left Sydney the first time in January), Dalts and Tones (missing since the end of last year), Brent (still sorely missed since London) and Rats (and old school friend I hadn't seen in ages). Fumbling around the airport, I managed to make it to O'Connell St and called Brent, who suggested meeting up at the 50m high spike in the centre of the city. Genius idea for a meeting point (though all credibility was lost when I found out the Irish use miles for distance but kilometres per hour for speed... seriously). We met up, said our hellos and wandered off to find our hostel. Brent can take full blame for the shithole that was our accommodation, but I'll get to that later. Dumping our bags, we proceeded to crash in the common room, me recovering from a hang over from work and them from a horror 20 hour bus trip with stops through the night. There was a short walk/reconnaisance, but minds were elsewhere.

It wasn't long before Dalts and Tones arrived and the drinking could commence. We headed to Temple district and got stuck in. Not much more needs to be explained about the night (not that I remember much of it). We headed from bar to bar, sinking pints of Guiness (that I now have a fond affinity with) until I could barely walk. The halftime kebab was my downfall, but after some 'light relief', I was back on my feet and we continued on. Highlights include meeting Brent's Irish mate Ciaran who, having seen some attractive (but not really) girls walking up the street, proceeded to address them in his Irish-accented, Viennese German. Before he could finish his line, the girls had delievered theirs - a hearty 'fook orff'. We fell over laughing quite quickly. The total ban in all bars was a godsend - everyone felt so much 'cleaner' for lack of a better word. But Rats was thinking ahead and persuaded me to buy him some snuff. Racking up lines on our hands in every bar we were in must have looked highly suspicious, but having everyone sneeze straight away perhaps shed some light on our true motivations.

The next morning I awoke early with a killer hangover, so disappeared into the streets to find some Gatorade, panadol and sustenance. Most people had sorted themselves out by 12pm, so we went down to watch the football and start drinking again. This time, I decided that pacing myself was a better option and managed to stay ahead of the pack. A conversation with a 60 year old couple turned interesting when they started lining up our snuff on the table at 4 in the afternoon. Brent was feeling a little worse for wear, but Dalts, Shivs and I kicked on. We met some very strange girls in a random Irish pub, but I can't remember much of the conversation whatsoever. They were ridiculously stupid, but anything more escapes me. We ended up with nowhere to go at the end of the night, though Shivs and Dalts kicked onto the Viper Room where I was too cheap to drop E15 on the cover charge with half an hour til closing.

The next morning was just as seedy, but this time I had been monstered by bed bugs. Disgusting to say the least. More fucking around, but Brent and I were on a tight schedule to get back to work, so we disappeared that arvo for our respective flights.

The next week was quiet, except for some heavy work at 180, but Shivs arrived for a short stay on the 18th (what was a public holiday, but I was in the office anyway). Getting in early in the evening, we dumped the bags and headed to 'Cargo' (a.k.a. Verck). A few beers there and we moved to the 'Sheaf' (a.k.a. Cafe van Zuylen) and drained another pint or two. I was trying to organise a drink with a Dutch friend of mine, so after some text ping pong, contact was established and we decided to walk to the other end of the city to grab another few beers. It's quite a trek from Sheaf (at Spui) to Cafe de Pijp (de Pijp) but we undertook our mission with vigour. I think Shivs appreciated the walk because he was vocal on said Dutch friend's physical appearance.

The next day, we did a bit of exploring (having slept in til the afternoon) and then started drinking at the FA Cup Final. From there, we just moved around the city, from bar to bar, chatting and drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Shivs stayed til Thursday, so did his touristy shit while I was at work. The only other real event of note was watching the Champions League final at my office in our conference room. I was having a beer with my Account Manager (who also gets the Shivs Nod of Approval) and Shivs dropped by, sank some beers with us and watched the game. As it happens, on colleague is a AC Milan fan from his childhood in Italy and displayed many characteristics synonymous with Italian football fans - the reason he was in the office is because he said that he'd do something at a bar that wouldn't guarantee his safety.

Shivs left on Thursday and Tash McCarthy arrived on Saturday. It was great to catch up after having not seen each other for ages, but I have to say, I was very impressed with her drinking ability. A long night of drinking on Saturday and some experimentation with local produce on Sunday made for two fantastic nights.

It's fast approaching midnight (thanks DJ Shadow) so I think I might end it here. A quiet few weeks in store (unless I get to France in 10 days or so), then a trip to London and JBo coming over with a posse - should be great fun...