Pen shops that masquerade as pubs
The bus deposits us in O’Connell Street – a huge road that goes straight through the city centre. ‘Which direction shall we head in?’ he asks, and I proudly pull out the home-made map that I spent an hour printing out, chopping up, lining up and sellotaping together yesterday. Which would be perfect if the internet map company hadn’t decided to move various features of Dublin to different places, making our journey to Temple Bar a lot more confusing. He immediately goes into ‘aah, bless you’ mode – implying that the map company couldn’t possibly be wrong, and that I’ve obviously tried very hard, but messed up with my cutting and sticking. My teeth wear down to stumps as I painstakingly point out that the series of references around the sides of the map are all aligned correctly – therefore the fact that Trinity College appears to now sit snugly on the banks of the Liffey is not my fault. He reads my narrow-eyed, lips-pursed expression well, and decides not to offer any further reasoning. He’s learning.
Our bags are feeling heavier now, our legs more tired. Hallucinations involving pints of beer beckoning me begin dancing in front of my eyes, so the relief of a friendly-looking pub straight ahead brings welcome relief. We walk in. It is a shop selling pens. We walk out and try the next one. A bag shop. Hmmm. Why do all their shop fronts look like pubs? It can’t be in the hope of accidentally enticing people in…‘Well I really wanted a beer, but actually, while I am here I could do with a packet of biros and a fountain pen…’ Three more tries later (a gentleman’s outfitters, a stationers and another pen shop) and we go through a door to find a bar, pumps, optics and a barman. We’ve arrived.
Our order is placed, the Guinness is poured. We wait. It takes time to pour the perfect pint, but it is worth it. Clichés aside, it truly does taste better here than at home. It is a different colour, a different texture, a different flavour. Our travel troubles forgotten, we sit down by the window, watch the people outside, and drink; smiling.
Photo credit to cutebutstupid on Flickr.
posted by Liberty Slutzski @ 3:43 pm
1 Comments:
at last we get to the pure black stuff. But what about the oysters and tabasco ?
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