24 May 2009

Somewhere Over the Rainbow is Dublin

I have just about wrapped up this four part mini-series on Ireland, but no account would be complete without a reporting on the hostel and the Ryanair flight. I was impressed with Ryanair and many of their cost-cutting strategies, such as exorbitant fees for checked baggage, non-reclining seats, and no seat-back pocket. I was less impressed with their cost-reducing iniatives that included "The brand new wingless plane!" a fee for using the loo; the original pilotless plane, wherein they bragged, "We didn't pilot the idea, but we did come up with it first!" and the depressurized cabin. Needless to say, my lungs were killing me after we got off. My flight was humourous and full of interesting people. The two people across from me started out as complete strangers, but 1 beer, 3 chardoneys and 1 pinot noir later they were the best of friends. The two people directly next to me couldn't restrain their purchasing power. When the newspaper cart came by, they bought one. When the drink cart came by, they bought one. When the candy cart came by, they bought one. When the scratch ticket steward came by, they bought one. When the Picasso auctioneer came by, they bought one. What a hoot. After we landed, but while we were still taxing, everyone got up and started collecting their belongings until the Cap'n told them all to sit down. As we were unloading they started to refuel the plane, and the Irish couple next to me commented that they wouldn't be surprised if Ryanair took off again before everyone got off, just to make up for lost time. What a hoot. While in Dublin, I stayed in a twelve man dorm. My roommates were mostly middle-aged men who looked like they lived in the hostel. I said Hi to two of them, but the only think anyone ever said in return was "Howdy." I caught one of my roomies eating straight up canned tomatoes. At least I am assuming they were tomatoes, as opposed to extra-large bouncie balls or shriveled watermelons. One more thing to note: You know you are not considered a full grown man in the eyes of the world when the old lady sitting next to you on the aeroplane offers you some chocolate. Yea, that happened to me. I was very grateful, don't get me wrong, but at the same time I couldn't help but to feel a little bit like a schoolboy.

2 comments:

Jessica Sorenson said...

I just read all four parts of the mini series and thoroughly enjoyed it. I laughed the whole time. And I've decided that you have a great vocabulary. I'm an English major that's embarrassed to say I'm actually looking words up as I read...

Lynn said...

Ha, that was a pretty good Ireland installment, I'm pretty upset that I don't get to go anymore! My favorite part was the Irish pub bit, I can actually picture you leaning suavely over to the waitress and going, "Vodka on the rocks, my dear, shaken, not stirred..."