The best city in the world is... Dublin.

I’ve been lazy with this blog. Very very lazy.
I’d better start from my first post-Spain trip.
16/5/09
It came about in an odd way. £2 flights from either Ryan Air or EasyJet (they’re both the same to me), so Gill and I decided we would book a flight somewhere and actually do some travelling. We weren't keen on anything in particular so we chose Dublin. Actually, Gill chose and I reluctantly agreed.
Dublin was amazing. Everyone was kind and cheerful – even the airport staff! We had a tremendous time wandering around the beautiful streets. Most things are walking distance, so we hoofed about from attraction to attraction.
I am pleased to say that I had my first Guinness in the Guinness factory – and I loved it. In fact, the whole Guinness factory tour was great fun, even though at the time I was NOT a beer drinker. Then we went on a tour of Dublin Castle. The tour guide was terrific fun and told us some excellent and cheeky stories.
At my insistence we also went to the Carmelite Church in Whitefriar Street to visit what may be the remains of St Valentine. These remains were given to the church from Pope Gregory XVI. Rome also claims to have him, so who knows. Apparently this church is a place of pilgrimage for those celebrating love. I was certainly celebrating how I had managed to fall in love with Dublin. If I ever get the chance it would be wonderful to stay there for longer and really explore properly.
All in all, Dublin is now my favourite city. I was only there for two days, but it won me over in about two minutes. And this is despite the fact that the rain bucketed down, held off a minute, then poured again. It’s almost a treat to see all the Dubliners walking about without umbrellas, getting soaked because (as a very funny busker announced to the world) they are so stubborn they are determined not to let the rain dictate their movements.
On another quick note, the National Gallery of Ireland was wonderful. The Taking of Christ was so beautiful I found it hard to leave. I know it is the nature of art to move and evolve, but I don’t think I’ve seen any modern art that has taken my breath away quite like that.

6/3/2009 - Fisterra

Apparently we were still in the mood to explore. We went to see Fisterra - ‘the end of the world’. It was windy, rainy and foggy. We went right to the edge where the foghorn sounded. It was so loud that I could feel my whole body vibrate. It was well worth the rotten weather. Actually, the bad weather might have made it better. If you go to the end of the world it’s kind of nice to have dramatic conditions. And the four km walk is nothing. The town itself is quite nice. Not much to do there. There are some ok food places, but the real thrill is seeing the end of the world.

Monte do Gozo/ Santiago de Compostela

We walked straight past Monte do Gozo. What else was there to do? Santiago de Compostela was so close and it was still early in the day… Suddenly we were passing a sign that announced that we had arrived. It was heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. We trudged further following the arrows. On and on and on into the city. Once you arrive at the city outskirts, it’s a rude shock to discover how much further you have to go. Arriving at the Cathedral we were exhausted and desperately wanting a rest. After asking for directions we made our way into the city. We finally made it to the albergue, only to find it was closed until April. I was horrified. But the kind man informed us that there were two others that we could stay at and he gave us a map with both of them marked out. So off we went to the second albergue. It didn’t exist. We walked around for ages trying to find it, but despite asking for a million directions, we were still left standing at the right address, with no albergue in sight. We began walking to the next one. Suddenly, a French couple that we’d seen previously appeared from nowhere and informed us that none of the albergues were open, and we had to go back to Monte do Gozo. We made it back to Monte do Gozo, struggled up and up and up the hill to the rooms and I almost passed out from bliss. Turns out we shared a dorm with the French couple, and there were only three other women there, which meant that the bathroom was blissfully empty most of the time. Hot water, doors on the showers, a kitchen, and most importantly, the people there were relaxed and lovely.

Once when Gill and I were having a cup of tea in the kitchen, an Italian man walked in, placed a pink scarf on the table and said ‘For you!’ before walking out again. I managed to blurt out a ‘thank you’ to his retreating figure despite my confusion. I’d never spoken to this guy before. Still, despite the fact that after that I was too shy to talk to him, the scarf is beautiful and it made me feel good.

Also, once there was a donkey outside my window. I've learnt to appreciate the little things.