We wake up after a short night, and get movin'. DraXus & co. are leaving for Spain tonight, so we're all kinda packin'. I catch up on Flickring and then we go for a stroll and say our goodbyes in a second-hand bookstore (how poetic). I run to a train station which appeared to be much closer the day before, and just make it in time. Through some more kilometres of green hills sprinkled with resident sheep, I roll on to Dublin.
I spend an indescriptibly long and tortuous time trying to find my friend Milja's flat (I'll be squatting there for 2 nights), because of that wonderful Irish idea of not numbering houses on streets, instead giving them funky names. When I finally find it, I drop my stuff and we take off like SAM missiles, our sights on one her friends' party. On the way I discover the idiocy of Dublin buses (or Bus Átha Cliath as they will have it) that won't give you change, forcing you to either carry hundreds of grams of coins to pay for your ticket, or buy in advance. Anyway, we ride for a while through winding and jammed Dublin and finally arrive at her friend's flat.
The place quickly gets packed with lots of outstandingly cool Finnish and Swedish lads&lasses, in whose unpayable company I have the best time I could ever imagine. This is, probably, in part accounted for by the inhuman amount of alcohol we ingest. As the differently flavoured glassfuls of booze pass in front of me, I repeatedly beg for mercy, but they show none. Gosh, they're tough drinkers, these Scandinavians. And they're terrible hosts. They can't bear seeing you with an empty glass. Awesome.
Later, a refreshing night run to get the last bus, and after succeeding, some more fiesta in the Temple Bar area. The touristic thing to do in Dublin.
I call it a really amazingly wonderful day.
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