Ireland A haon

I got into Dublin after dark and, with map in hand, began the search for my hostel. After some confusion, mainly due to the fact that I couldn't remember the hostel's name, I found my home for the night and went to bed. The next morning I got my first good look at Dublin... it appeared to be a little rough around the edges and I wasn't immediately sold on the place. Where was the green grass and beautiful red-headed women? I spent my first week getting settled, adjusting to grey sky's and lads in tracksuits.

Enough "settling". I jumped on a bus with some other like-minded travelers and set out to find the "real" Ireland. We hit Killarney, Ennis, Galway, Inis More, Derry and Belfast. In between, I soaked up the Dingle Peninsula, peered over the Cliffs of Moher, gave the Blarney Stone a big smooch, walked along the Giant's Causeway, learned about the troubles in Northern Ireland from the locals and had some fecking grand craic all along the way.

By the time I got back I was almost 33. Some of the gang from the bus tour were still around and threw me a kick-ass little party - cake and all. They even managed to get a table full of drunken Englishmen to sing happy birthday to me. Well done. The rest of the night was spot on. Exactly how a birthday should be in Dublin.

I am now putting some real effort into landing a job... at least until something distracts me.