Thursday, July 14, 2005

Dublin&London-July 14, 2005

You know you’ve been in the desert too long when 63 F seems downright arctic. It took me almost an entire week of being in Ireland to adjust to the temps – and, yes, now I am re-adjusting to the 108 F humid air of Dubai and longing for that chilly breeze.

I met my mom, brother, aunt and cousin in Dublin for a week-long jaunt across the lower half of the Republic of Ireland. You can see pictures and the map of the trip here: http://www.imagestation.com/album/pictures.html?id=2123902070&code=17182494&.

It was interesting to find that there were lots of Americans in Ireland doing basically the same thing we were – tracing their ancestry – to various degrees. I guess many Americans long for that sense of belonging to a particular heritage or group. And the country’s tourism industry plays to this desire with its museums and shops that sell myriad your-Irish-surname-and-history trinkets.

Unfortunately, it turns out my maternal ancestors are associated with two things: alcohol and treachery. The Flahertys (in Gaelic it’s Flaithbhertaig or some such) were well-known savages who basically beat the crap out their neighbors and stole their cattle. Ireland at the time (11th and 12th centuries) was a wretched place apparently. The lifespan of these people was something like 34 years. One Galway community even inscribed into its city wall a prayer to God to protect them from the “ferocious Flahertys.”

We knew some of this history before going to Ireland, but what none of us knew was that another Flaherty, Paddy, was responsible for one of the world’s best-known Irish whiskeys, Jameson Whiskey. It was originally called Paddy O’Flaherty’s, then changed to Paddy’s, then Powers, and finally Jameson, after numerous years and changes in ownership. We literally stumbled upon this information when my brother Brian, who has a hankering for the bitter stuff, suggested we take a tour of the Jameson distillery. How appropriate it was when Brian volunteered to do a taste test comparing whiskeys from Scotland, the US and Ireland.

The rolling green hills, cliffs, cottages, fairytale woods and stone walls of Ireland are almost exactly like I imagined, but of course all the more amazing to see in person.

Things I did not expect were roads so narrow you are certain to hit either bushes or branches, and hopefully not walls; bad customer service (we Americans love to complain, huh?); crappy food; and high prices.

I drank more beer in one week than I have in the last six months (feels like a requirement); I ate more potatoes than I have in the last six months (no low-carb diet fads here!); and I experienced the panic of driving on the opposite side of the road.

And while the service was pretty crap, the people are very friendly. Almost all of our tour guides seemed to have taken acting lessons at some point. They were funny, knowledgeable and not ashamed to play the part of the happy-go-lucky Irishman.

Ireland otherwise seems buzzing with business and tourism. Its economy is one of the best in the EU, only now it is in danger of becoming almost as expensive as Britain. Speaking of Britain, the last leg of my trip included three days in London and the English countryside. Unfortunately I arrived the day after the bombs and, of course, my hotel happened to be located next to one of the bombed stations.

Londoners were unfazed however, and the pubs were as packed as ever that evening. I museum-hopped the next day and went to Shakespeare’s Stratford-upon-Avon. Three days is about all I could afford in the world’s biggest rip-off city. I spent the majority of those days in some form of public transit asking myself, ‘Why, why is this place so bloody expensive?’

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