Celebrating the day of drinking in Dublin was only slightly different than in New York. I think I may have enjoyed Ireland better. Here’s why—I think NYC may have a better parade than Dublin, only because we have so many visitors from Ireland that walk in the parade with their family or town coat of arms, which I think is cool. The most enjoyable part about Dublin was that the teenagers (or insert almost everyone) weren’t sloshed by noon. According to the locals I spoke to at the pub (who were also kind enough to school me in the rules of rugby), it gets real ugly later in the evening, but as I explained to them, NYC is ugly by the early afternoon. I was able to enjoy the parade and the people around me, without having to deal with a bunch of drunken idiots. As some might say, St. Patrick’s Day is amateur night. So, I had a couple pints of Guinness and called it an early night, very glad I made it over to surround myself with the Irish, on Ireland’s day of fame. I finished up my weekend in Dublin running around Trinity College and dodging sporadic hail and snow storms, apparently an artic storm decided to roll in just in time for my visit. Yeah.
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