You owe me an Ice Cream!

On the way to the hotel from the airport the shuttle driver leaned his head out the window. 'YOU OWE ME AN ICE CREAM!" he shouted at a passing plumbers truck. I can see why he wanted to call that marker in - Dublin is in the middle of a pre-summer heat wave that the locals are greatly enjoying. I, however, am so disappointed that the gray-green Eire that I've seen on the travel channel is just as hot and muggy as Los Angeles.

Oh, yeah, by the way, I'm blogging from Ireland this week. I haven't been able to write much lately, over the past month we have had landscapers trapesing through the house, renovated the kitchen and I am trying to shepherd my children through the final weeks of First and Third Grades. We landed at 11AM which my body is screaming is really 3AM. Im jetlagged and further from my children than I've ever been before, but so excited and happy to see Europe for the first time.

Before you jump to the conclusion that I have run off with the newly available and ever sexy Joe Speaker, rest assured that I am here with the long committed (to me) and ever sexy (to me) fhwrdh. Speaker is way down south , I assume hopelssly entangled in cards, whiskey, and lasses. Pure cooincidence is what happened to bring no less than three Los Angeles bloggers to Ireland at once.

After our plane landed and we checked in to our hotel, fhwrdh and I took a 2 hour nap. When we woke up we decided to take a walk. This is when we discovered one of those personality differences between us that might render another marriage assunder, but keeps ours balanced in a yin/yang kinda way.
"Where are we going?" fhwrh asked.
"Well, that fella over there - he reccomended going right, then going straight."
"Where will that take us?"
"I don't know. Lets go get lost!"

FH was dubious but once we got moving he realized that he knew the layout of the city pretty well. He pointed out the River Liffey, St. Stephens Green, and Grafton Street. I thanked my lucky stars that he had poured over guidebook after guidebook. I have my own personal tour guide.

It is now 9PM. before I head to the bar for a nightcap, a quick first impression of Dublin. It is the quietest city I have ever been to. No horns honking, shouting - even the bustling crowd at Grafton was a low murmer compared to Third Street Promenade. If Ireland is the Nation of Welcomes, Dublin is the City of Whispers.

More tomorrow - maybe even some poker!