Well hello dare, we have just come back from a nice weekend in Dublin. Me and Mrs Fogg flew out with bucket air from err hem “Leeds Bradford International Airport”, now surely an international airport would be open past 8pm for food wouldn’t it?

Unfortunately everything closes especially the one dodgy restaurant. So a surprising on time flight on no frills Ryan Air and we are away to the land of little people. The flight well all the attendants are eastern European and speak not a word of English.

So a 12am arrival and a rather jovial taxi driver tellin us how to put the world rights, but advising the best place to eat and drink at 1am. It was time for a trip, by foot 1 mile back to the Arlington Hotel which turned out to be watered down Guinness. At 2am we headed back to the hotel.

Friday morning, saw us wake, tired, but refreshed and ready to see the sights of Oirland’s Dublin. Off we trot to walk round and round and round and round, stopping at all the tourist sites that Mrs Fogg had highlighted. First order of the morning was brekky and stopping a copper to ask where the best place was, took us to Bewley’s Cafe on Grafton Street, wow what a dissapointment was that, cold, horrible and yuck, if you really wanna know ask a coppa!!!!

Not that this is a food related journey but after some more wandering through the Powerhouse we headed up to find Dublin’s most famous Fish ‘n’ Chippy “Leo Burdoch’s”, well you certainly get a lot, but at 9Euro’s and soggy batter, we have had a lot better from a Wetherby Whaler and cheaper too.

Put off by the fare we headed to Temple Bar to sample quaint Dublin bars in the heart of the party area.  Plenty of cobbled streets, beggars (from eastern europe), market stalls and a mix of restaurants and bars we ambled around until we came across O’Flannery’s Temple Bar.  A bright red bar located conveniently right on the corner.  Stepping inside it is dark and broody, but huge!  We picked stools by the window to watch all the tourists go by and sat having Guinness and Oysters – hmm an acquired salty taste, but good with the Guinness, Mr Fogg loved them, Mrs Fogg said they tasted yuck.

So, a couple of hours later and a further amble around Dublin, we decided we had seen most of the sights, but with one last major sight to see off we went to see the Book of Kells.  Nine Euros each to get in to see a small museum and three very old books  – Mr Fogg’s dream destination ( I think not!), complete with dozy american tourist “Doh, why is this really really old book in tatters, where are the rest of the pages, Doh?”  Quite impressive to see anything given the thing was created in 600AD.

With tired feet by this point we opted to start wandering back to the hotel, stopping at a quirky place on the way called the Science Foundation – a melting pot conceived by Google among other names which has a few little toys to play with and a cafe.  The best bit is a ball game were you strap on headbands, relax your mind and in doing so encourage Alpha and Theta waves which move a little ball towards your opponents goal.  Seems like Mrs Fogg is ace at blanking her mind (and therefore winning!) whilst Mr Fogg appeared to have a wandering mind….. (more like woman thinks of warm fluffy bunnies and man is thinking of worldly important matters).

So, game over, back to the hotel for a rest then off to see a free show at the Docklands area called “The Spheres”.  Suffice to say it was free….not much to see and very draughty and rubbish.  Back to the hotel after the 40 min show via takeway Pizza from Apache Pizza(highly recommended 16inch Bohemoth!!!) and up to the room for tea in bed with Guinness and Pizza.  A good end to the day.

Saturday saw us head to the Guinness Factory tour and a hook up with the Folks, for a catch-up and Guinness, oy yes, 5 pints by the time we got out after the glass bar at the top. On then through ethnic eastern european Dublin, back to Temple Bar for food to soak up the alcohol and into a nice little bar where Mrs Fogg had stew and Mr Fogg had a cracking 16oz burger (oh yumm). With the day waning we headed for a bar along with 30,000 others, seems there was a little known St. Patrick’s festival weekend starting, a rugger match between ireland and scotland and every man and his dog there. So we sat, drank and chatted.

After seeing the Folks off to the station for another 2.5 hour journey home we headed off back to the hotel, to pick up guinness on the way and another monster pizza before crashing in bed.

Sunday was back to the airport with mt happy the taxi driver, who’s head could rotate through 180 degrees whilst driving.

And now we are home with Mr Spike, just chillin after a nice change.

Happy St. Pat’s to y’all