It's awfully nice to be back in Sevilla again. After just one month this place feels comfortable--it's not like a vacation anymore, so I guess I'm pretty settled. After this last weekend of traveling, being in Sevilla is absolutely fantastic.
That's not to say that Dublin was bad--just that it was an incredibly draining two days. We left around noon on Thursday and returned to Sevilla around noon on Saturday; and while it was short, it was definately an experience. We didn't see the sun once the whole time we were there--but I guess that's a pretty geunuine part of Ireland. We spent Friday afternoon and evening tooling around Dublin--we saw the Temple Bar district and a couple bridges and statues and things...we even stopped in a pub for an authientic Guiness. We spent the night in a hostel, all in one group room with a bunch of other people--not terrible, but certainly not the most comfortable accomodations.
Having decided the night before that we needed more secure plans, day two ended up having some good stuff. We spent the day in a small town called Wicklow which is on the coast a couple miles south of Dublin. It was exactly the picture of the Emerald Isle that I had in my mind. It was full of quaint little houses and rolling green hills. We spent a few hours exploring some castle ruins on the cliffs and feeling like we should sing something Irish (but all I could think of was "Be Thou My Vision"). We also visited an old jail (they spelled it "Gaol") and took a sweet tour. That tour ended up being the highlight for most of us.
Back in Dublin we walked around and found some of the big sights--like St. Patrick's Cathedral. We couldn't go in, bit it was plenty impressive from the outside. That night we went to some sort of amateur stand-up comedy club in a basement pub in Dublin. It was fun, even though the "comedians" weren't that funny. Mostly they made jokes about sex and used a certain word that's better to type thus: f#%*. We then went back to the Temple Bar district to try and spend our night (we were planning on not sleeping). The highlights there were a crowd of drunk Danish kids and a guy who was offering 20 Euro to anybody who could ride his bike over a line--it was rigged to turn the opposite way of the handle bars (which is even funnier when the person trying is already very drunk). We ended up getting kicked out of a club (because we looked like ugly tourists) and finally catching a bus for the airport around 3:30.
We crashed there at the airport around a McDonalds table until we hit our flight. Then one sleepy flight, one quick bus trip, and a short walk later I celebrated my siesta in good Spanish fashion.