As, what I took to a good omen, we were stopped on the street in route by a woman complaining her drinking mates were light weights and needed "stronger men". We told her we were from Texas and she says, "EXACTLY, BRILLIANT!". She stumbled along for another 25 yards or so before we got to a set of stairs she looked at a said, "I had better go check on my friends". We parted ways and introduced Paul to the late Finnegan. Same place, same crowd, same bartenders. This is why I love Scotland and if only slightly disappointed by Ireland.
When you go out in Ireland, people are serious. The need a drink and they're happy to share the space with you but god help you if you interrupt or even delay the boozing process. The Scots on the other hand are pissed and insulted if you don't interrupt their drink with or without mates (the masculine kind, not the married kind) and they'll just as soon interrupt yours if you don't do it first. Case in point - 5 mins after getting our first round, an Irish lass (barking pissed ) pokes her head in our space and say, I'm Abigail, are you Irish too? We explain and she turns to Paul and says, "who are you" to which Paul replies, "hate-haters". Apparently he'd made an off color remark just before she poked in and was trying to cover for himself. Call it a conditioned response or just poor hearing, he didn't really need to say anything because Abigail was 2 pints away from a nap on the bar. Regardless, Paul kept up the front and repeated himself several times, increasing in volume. Matt and I are rolling on the floor by this point and finally jump in and correct Paul's interpretation of the question.
Abigail suggest we all get up and dance, to which I see the never disappointing option of volunteering a brother. Back me up here fella's - there's nothing funnier than throwing a friend to the lions, especially if the lion is drunk, fat and ugly as a shoe, all of which apply here. Pretty soon, Abigail and I are laughing about something (about which I have no idea as I've lost track of her drunken Irish slurring 10 mins ago but I do my best Vince Vaughn), when she stops abruptly and suggest that Paul dance naked on the bar and she has plenty of "1's". At that point her boyfriend (poor bastard that he is, god rest is tired soul) jumps up and pulls her back to her stool. We stayed for a few more drinks and four songs from the band (who kicked ass playing Simon and Garfunkel, U2, etc.) and got back to the hostel around 11. Matt and I put Paul to bed and went in search of a pizza place still open (our bodies thought it was lunch time) and finally found one around midnight.
OH, the hostel. It's about 10x14 with 3 sets of bunk bed in it. There's a communal shower (yeah, men and women) and we share the space with an Ausy chick (Charmane or something) and 2 other people we've never seen. It aint great, but I promise you Paul's getting the "total" experience...as I read that I realize I looks like I'm implying that Paul is getting the real experience due in part to something that Charmain is doing. I didn't mean that. Only that the bathrooms are built for one and so are the showers but they manage to get five in them. Good.
Today we woke around nine and headed for the castle that Matt and I remember fondly. Upon arrival we found that they were starting Parliament today and were bringing in the crown in a big ceremony down the Royal Mile. Very cool since it only happens once a year and we just happened to be there. Some daft tart was saying the Queen would be in attendance but she wasn't.
We did a bunch of other sight seeing today and are about to hit the pubs again, though probably not Finnegan's Wake as we have a 10am Tee Time at St. Andrews tomorrow. Gotta hit the links. We're already plotting the pictures we'll take and I'll be amazed if they let us finish all 9 holes.
It's raining and cool/cold here. Next time we do a brothers trip, I'm taking them some place sunny and warm.
