As tumblr is now a horrible wasteland with only a passing tumblrweed or two rolling along the dusty, abandoned terrain, this travel log serves no other purpose than to remind me of my youth when my brain turns to mush like that lady from The Notebook. Sad.
Dimery has her own travel log linked here for the passing tumbleweeds who have learned how to tumblr-read, but as I have no original ideas of my own, I’m mimicking her. Here we go.
Day .5 - In Which Natalie Spills Her $15 Cocktail At The Airport And Dimery Continues To Be A Saint, As Always
You can read all about our time in NYC on the aforementioned Blog De Dimery, because her coverage of our day and a half together prior to our trip is much more eloquently put than I could ever...put it. With said day and half behind us and bags bursting at the seams with our travel essentials, we headed off to Stewart International Airport, a small hub for budget airlines and - as enraged as I am to report this - Trump Memorabilia. SWF, go fuck yourself.
Now, if you’re not aware, my quarter life crisis came a second time shortly after my 27th birthday last month and I dyed my hair pink because you’re not my real dad. Dimery has always had a beautiful fun color on her head, and this time she was rocking a deep red. Upon arrival at the airport, we noticed two girls with pink hair (who were probably about ten years our junior) and took not-so-subtle selfies with them in the background so we could brag about our ever-lasting youth on social media. Getting through security after this was a breeze, and even the TSA employees were nice. While we waited the planned four hours before takeoff in the airport (which turned out to be six in the end), we joked around, bought overly-expensive cocktails, ate a Mounds, and then I spilled $8 worth of my cocktail on the floor. After finally getting called to board, we got on the plane bundled up for what we anticipated being a cold flight, but ended up being a hot flying bus for 6.5 hours. Cool! Before takeoff, the flight attendants began their safety demonstration but were interrupted by a transmission from the pilot advising them to prepare for takeoff. One of the flight attendants had a perpetually worried face on her...face, and I thought we were sure to die. However, they just sat in their jump seats, we took off, and they resumed the demonstration once we were in the air. Is this legal? The rest of the flight was fairly uneventful since it was just fitful sleep and many pee breaks.
Day 1 - In Which Natalie And Dimery Get Shitfaced
This is the day that we got shitfaced, but we haven’t yet reached that chapter. Stop getting ahead of yourself. Once on Irish soil (/airport tile), Dimery and I stood in a thousand mile line of tired but excited travelers waiting for Customs interviews. We used the pink haired girls from the day before as markers to gauge how fast the line was moving and many times made uncomfortable, why-are-these-adult-women-staring-at-these-two-young-girls eye contact. Once we were deemed a non-threat to the security of Ireland by the officials, we were off. Uber in Ireland is strange, so we ended up with an Uber Black driven by a very handsome older man who smelled so good it cured my depression. He took us to our very first stop, The White Moose Cafe. It was a charming little restaurant with spotty WiFi and an amazing Full Irish Breakfast. This is, unfortunately, where I was reminded that the UK does coffee very differently, in that they don’t really do coffee at all - they do espresso. While I do love a jolt of liquid cocaine every once in a blue moon, I’m a brewed black iced coffee gal through and through, and had somehow forgotten from my trips to London that the UK was decidedly anti-American-coffee-practices. “Fine,” I said, “I’ll just throw myself out this window.” I ordered an Americano and nobody died that day.
Following breakfast, we jumped in a taxi to our AirBnb, where our host, Morgan, was waiting to give us the initiation speech with his very cute little daughter. I identified with her on many levels (both small and into wooden blocks), but decided I especially liked her when she dramatically threw herself onto the couch and sobbed when told it was time to put her toys away and leave the two strange women standing in her dad’s second home. At last, we were at home base and ready to take on the city, which meant a quick trip to Boots for an American adapter (we were preparedly unprepared with the wrong European adapter we bought shortly before our departure) and to Tesco for cheese and wine. Once back home, I took the hottest and most satisfying shower of my life, then committed the cardinal sin of a daytime jetlag nap. Dimery came in to breathe new life into my dead little body and we headed out to explore on our way to a nearby pub. Unfortunately, said nearby pub was filled to the brim with scary scary Irish people, so we popped over to Kennedy’s, another nearby pub with fewer scary scary Irish people. Boys and girls and any other way you may identify: let me tell you - the fish and chips at this place was www.bomb.com. It was also here that I had my very first real Irish Guiness. I always thought people were being snobs when they said how much better it tastes in Ireland as opposed to what we get in the States, but call me a snob because THEY ARE RIGHT. It was so much smoother and better in every way and gave me the strength to arm wrestle anyone who claimed otherwise (which was nobody, because we were in Ireland). After dinner, we headed back home and opened our wine and cheese. The wine was www.vom.com, but we still managed to finish it between the two of us and end up topsy turvy little lightweights. We laughed and ate all night, and keeping with the theme of this trip and my life in general, I spilled wine on myself. We stayed up until 2 am local time, which proved to be a mistake after a long day of traveling. Later, we died.
Day 2 - “In Which I Write This Later,” or “To Be Continued”
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