Yoga - maybe it IS just for skinny chicks in spandex after all . . .

That is pretty much all the class was filled with.  I really did think there would be other normal people there, but no such luck.  The husband and I were the only two there who had never been to yoga before.  The class was packed to the brim with taut muscles and tight tank tops.  The floor was wall to wall mats and hippies.  Before class, everyone was curled up on their mats doing I'm not sure what.  I just kind of stood around awkwardly, then eventually sat down with my legs crossed and tried to be quiet and not look out of place.  When class started, I couldn't really see the instructor.  I was surrounded by people doing handstands and what appeared to be break-dancing moves of some sort.  Every once in a while I got a glimpse at the instructor and figured out what I was supposed to be doing.  If all else failed, I just did downward dog, because it seemed like eventually everyone else would end up there too.

Once class started, I didn't feel nearly as self-conscious as I thought I would.  I was concentrating so hard on not falling over that I didn't have time to worry about what anybody else was doing or if they were looking at me.  It was very challenging.

The good things about yoga so far:  (1) it is one heck of a work out.  After an hour and fifteen minutes of yoga, I am sore in places I forgot I had.  And it's not like I'm a total wuss - until three weeks ago I was working out with a trainer three times a week; and (2) it definitely gets your mind off of things - it takes so much concentration that there isn't room in your brain to think about anything else.

The bad things about yoga so far:  (1)  it is one heck of a work out (haha); and (2) there are a lot of people at yoga class, and I'm typically a loner, especially while working out.

I thought for a long time after I got home about whether I liked it or not.  I'm still not sure.  But I'll definitely go back and give it at least a few more tries.  I don't think I am ever going to be a "yoga person," or find my "zen" at yoga, but it is a fantastic work out!

John Elway walks into a bar . . .

Bartender says: "Why the long face?"

HAHAHA

Yoga - it's not just for skinny chicks in spandex anymore!

I'm going to my very first yoga class tomorrow.  This makes me nervous.  Well, actually, it scares the shit out of me.  Yoga intimidates me.  Or rather, its followers do.  They're all super-skinny, super-cute college girls with bouncing ponytails and perfectly coordinated, skin tight yoga pants and tank tops that flatter their already slim and trim figures. (You know, all of the things that I am not.)  They eat vegetables and tofu and soy.  (Instead of double cheeseburgers and pizza and beer.)  They are already experts at being all zen-like, and bending effortlessly into poses that I'm pretty sure will kill me if I try them. 

I realize that in reality,  people who practice yoga are probably not all like this.  Hopefully, a lot of them are just like me.  But in case they aren't, I'm dragging my husband along to the first class.  He has selflessly promised to be even worse than I am, so everyone stares at him instead of me.  Now that's love!

Ireland Day 7: Straffan to Dublin, via Tullamore

Woke up in the castle this morning, and walked the grounds.  Beautiful morning.  After breakfast, we piled into the van and headed out for an exciting day - Tullamore Dew in the morning and the Guinness Brewery in the afternoon!  Our first stop was the town of Tullamore, located in County Offaly.  We got there a little bit early, so we walked around the small town for about half an hour.  It was a Sunday morning, and the town was quiet except for people walking to church, and the sound of church bells ringing.  It was nice.

We headed to the Tullamore Dew distillery.  I have a soft spot in my heart for Tullamore Dew - I used to drink it at the VFW in Carthage, NY when we lived there with a guy named Marty.  It was a really cool old distillery, and was founded in 1829. 

After the distillery, it was time to head to the holy grail - the Guinness Brewery.  I hate to say it but I was kind of disappointed when we got there.  Because of the laws in Ireland, you cannot tour the place where they actually make the beer.  This made me sad, because one of my favorite things about visiting breweries is the delicious smell of the malt and the barley.  Plus it was amazingly crowded.  Aside from that, it was pretty cool.  Our first order of business when we got there was to head straight away to the cafeteria to have some of what I heard was the best Guinness stew in the world.  And it was!

Next we walked around the brewery on a self-guided tour.  Lots of interesting stuff. A couple of my favorite parts were the advertising section and the locate your ancestors section.  The advertising section had all the different advertisements Guinness has created over the years, including some really cool old commercials.

In the "locate your ancestors" section, there was a computer where you could look up your family name and see if any of them worked for the Guinness Brewery in Dublin.  I did find a "Peter Penrose" who worked there - only one Penrose.  I'm now on a mission on Ancestry.com to figure out if he was a relative of mine.  Oh how I hope he was!

I also found this quote painted on a wall in that section.  I fell in love with it instantly - I think it sums up how I feel about Ireland.

Next we headed up to the Gravity Bar, located at the top of the brewery with floor to ceiling windows, hoping to get our free pint.  But it was not to be - the Gravity Bar was packed with people - you could barely move in there.  We elbowed our way up to the windows and got our first real glimpse of Dublin.  Wow!  It was way bigger than I thought it was!  You could look out at the old Guinness Brewery, which was huge.  Past that was the city.

We moved downstairs to another bar and got our free pints of Guinness, and found a few moments of relative quiet in a table in the corner by a window with a nice view.

It had been a pretty long day so far, and after the brewery, we were definitely ready to head to our hotel and have some dinner.  We arrived at the Arlington Hotel, located by the O'Connell Bridge and the River Liffey, right in the heart of Dublin.  We ate dinner a pizza place beside the hotel.

We walked to a pub called the Brazen Head - Ireland's oldest pub, dating back to 1198.  It was a really neat pub, with several different rooms, and an Irish band playing, as well as seats outside.

Next we headed across the street to O'Sheas Merchant, a pub recommended by our driver, Paddy.  A friend of his from Kerry owns the bar, and there is a painting of his uncle on the outside of the bar.  They have really good traditional Irish music every night.  On this night, when the band took a break, they let Donal perform.  It was so cool seeing Donal perform in a real Irish pub in Dublin!  He even sang Fields of Athenry (one of my favorites)!

We walked back to the hotel.  On our way back, we went to McDonald's and had an Irish double cheeseburger (my favorite late night snack).  It was similar to, but not exactly the same as, an American double cheeze.  Still delicious!!  There was a club beneath our room, and the windows opened onto the alley where all the music and people were.  It was very loud, but we were really tired, so it didn't matter.  We drifted off to sleep to the sounds of 80's American music - Guns N' Roses, Cyndi Lauper, Belinda Carlisle, and Bon Jovi.  It was awesome.

How to retire from being a lawyer after one year . . . .

1. Pack all of your stuff into a 16-foot moving truck and move two states away.

2. Become a volunteer bartender.


If you feel this does not put enough distance between you and your career in the dreaded legal field:

1. Pack all of your belongings into a 26-foot moving truck and attach your car to the back of it.

2. Drive 3,000 miles across the country to your dream destination.

3. Once reality sets in, consider shooting yourself in the face at the thought of facing another bar exam. Get out the Tiffany's catalog and give it to your husband after circling several items that you feel will make up for the fact you have to take another bar exam.

4. Run around hiking in the mountains all day. Forget the bar exam. Who wants to be a lawyer anyway? I hope there is a VFW nearby looking for a good bartender . . .

Me v. the Turkey, Round 5

This is my fifth year making a turkey.  Round 5 of the annual "Me v. the Turkey" fight.  After a forty-five minute struggle with the Turkey, I won.  He put up a good fight, as he does every year, but I finally got him in the oven (sans stuffing - I gave up on that part after Round 1).  I didn't even need the tongs or the rubber gloves to remove the neck and the organs this year - I toughed it out and did it with my bare hands!  And, I didn't even break any of the bones this year either!

Below, I'm posting my notes from my first go-around with the Turkey.  It was pretty traumatic.


Me v. the Turkey, Round 1

Well, I decided to make my very own turkey yesterday.  My first stuffed poultry experience.  I know, I know, it was a crazy idea - me?  Stuff and cook a whole turkey?  Me - who eats cereal for dinner, and considers making macaroni and cheese cooking?  In fact, I usually just make Velveeta mac and cheese, because Kraft is all complicated, what with adding the butter and milk and everything.  So anyway, back to the turkey.

I can describe the whole experience in one word: nauseating.

First of all, as soon as I cut the wrapping off the turkey, watery blood oozed all over my counter, which I had luckily covered entirely in wax paper (so turkey bacteria wouldn't get all over it).  Gross.

Next, I had to remove the disgusting bag containing the turkey's neck, which had been stuffed up its butt, and the even more horrific bag of internal organs, also known as giblets, which had been stuffed into its neck.  Why?  Why do they take off the neck and put it in the body cavity and then remove the organs from the body cavity and put them in the neck?  Anyway, in order to remove these disgusting items, I had to lift up flaps of turkey flesh and get enough of my hand into the orifice to get the bag out, but not enough to make me puke.  The bags were all slippery with gross turkey juices and hard to get out.  I'm not going to describe all the gross sensations, but I felt like a gynecologist.  The LAST thing I want linked in my mind with the food I am about to eat is a gynecological exam.

At this point in the process I felt entirely nauseated and had no appetite whatsoever, especially for turkey.  I really thought I would never eat a turkey again and that all this disgusting work would go to waste.

Then, it got even better.  I had to rinse out the turkey in the sink, which consisted of pouring all the gross bloody liquid down the drain, and filling it with water until it quit oozing blood.  Then I had to pat it dry with paper towels, so I ended up with a bloody pile of paper towels on the counter.  Then I started trying to put the stuffing inside the turkey.  Again, I found myself asking the question "why?"  Why do we stuff gross, soggy bread cubes inside the body cavities of the turkey where the neck and organs just were?

My mom told me she wraps the wings around behind the turkey so that it is resting on the wings, kind of like a cradle, so the bird looks better.  So I am on the phone with my mom, squeezing the phone between my shoulder and face, trying to maneuver the slippery turkey, getting covered with turkey slime and turkey rub, while attempting to bend its wings behind its back.  It just wasn't working, so Joe took over. I then hear a bunch of cracking noises coming from the turkey.  Joe didn't get its wings behind its back, but he managed to break all the bones in its wings, so they were just kind of twisted around sticking straight up the sides of the turkey - kind of like its being held at gunpoint or something, only the wings are completely backwards.

So we finally just gave up and put it in the oven. It came out 4 1/2 hours later and it was DELICIOUS!  The best turkey I ever had (except for my mom's of course).

Thank God we are having ham for Christmas.

Ireland Day 6: Derry to Straffan, via Ulster Folk Park and Newgrange

We woke up early this morning because I wanted to walk the Walls of Derry, and this was our last day here.  Derry is the last walled in city in Ireland - the city is entirely surround by a stone wall that was built during the period 1613-1619.  Derry was the location where Bloody Sunday occurred.  Derry is officially named Londonderry, but you have to be care what you call it depending on who you are talking to.  The nationalists (mostly Catholics) call it Derry.  Neighborhoods in the city are still divided by religion - there are Catholic streets and Protestant streets - there is even a place where the Catholic part and Protestant part is divided by a huge, tall wall with barbed wire on the top.  Many disputes and civil rights marches took place in Derry during the Troubles.  The Catholics were discriminated against, politically and economically.  Like in Belfast, you can see all of this by driving around the city.  It is amazing how recent all of this history is here, and how strongly people still feel.  (In case you can't read it, the writing on the red hand below says "IRA.")

In any event, we walked the Walls around Derry in the morning.  It wasn't super early - probably around 8:00 or 8:30, but no one was out yet and we practically had the place to ourselves.  As we started walking the wall, I heard someone whistling and saw a guy working in the street, carrying boxes into a restaurant or shop or something.  It was such a happy, cheery sound.  I'll never forget it.  I think people are just happier there.

The Walls are really cool - there are several cannons pointing out of the walls and the views back into the city were nice.

 

While walking on the Walls we came across St. Columb's Cathedral  - an absolutely beautiful church built between 1628 and 1633.  

 

 

 Very beautiful - definitely worth getting up early to walk the Walls.

We left Derry and headed toward Ulster American Folk Park, located in Castletown, just outside Omagh, in County Tyrone.  Ulster American Folk Park is a museum about the Irish immigrating to America in the 18th and 19th Centuries.  It was pretty interesting.  There is a bunch of stuff inside, and outside there are many original buildings, such as jails, printing presses, school houses, and cottages.  Employees are dressed up in historically accurate clothing and teach you about life in that time period when you go to the different buildings, including having samples of food that would have been eaten.  I didn't take a lot of pictures because it was pouring rain when we were there.  I did take this one of a couple of black and white horses that I really like though:

We left Ulster American Folk Park and headed to Newgrange.  Newgrange is pretty crazy.  They don't really know a lot about it for sure.  It is a prehistoric monument located in County Meath.  They think it was built around 3200 BC. They think it may have been used as a burial because they have found burned human bone in there.  It is a huge mound of earth and stone with a very narrow passageway that leads back into a a cross-shaped area with three small chambers that form the shape of a cross.  Above the door is a slot that allows sunlight to reach back into the chamber only during the Winter Solstice (around December 21). Pretty crazy!  No daylight reaches into the tomb at any other time.  They re-create this with artificial light while you are in there.  Each year they have a lottery to see who is going to get to be in there during Winter Solstice to see the phenomenon.  Also, there are several Neolithic carvings in the rock, inside and out.  You are not allowed to take pictures inside, but here are some pictures of the outside.  You can see some of the carvings and the slot above the door that lets the light in.  There are several other mounds and stone structures around the main structure - they don't know what they were used for.

We left Newgrange and headed to Barberstown Castle in Straffan, County Kildare, where we were going to stay the night.  Yep - we're staying the night in a castle!!! Barberstown Castle was built in 1288.  It was once owned by Eric Clapton!  I was a little bit disappointed when we got there because there was only one room actually in the castle, and we didn't get to stay in it.  The rest of the hotel is actually built onto the castle.  We went into the castle while we were there though and it was really cool - dark stone walls, all cold and gloomy like you expect a castle to look like.  It was a pretty fancy place.

This is the view from our bedroom window.

It looked just like the gardens I imagine all the people in my favorite books to walk in with their loves - like Anna Karenina and Count Vronsky, or Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

Tomorrow, it's off to Dublin!!

Ireland Day 5: Inishowen Peninsula and Malin Head

Today we woke up in Derry.  I was quite disappointed when I got to the breakfast bar and there wasn't any gravy boat full of Bushmills.  I settled for a cup of coffee and some juice.  The rest of the breakfast was quite delicious though, containing the standard Irish breakfast stuff - eggs, soda bread, mushrooms, baked beans, roasted tomatoes, sausages, rashers, pastries, cold cheese, ham, fresh-squeezed apple and orange juices, fruit, yogurt, and more.  I am really loving the baked beans with the sausages.

After breakfast we left Derry (and Northern Ireland) and drove up the Inishowen Peninsula, en route to Malin Head.  The Inishowen Peninsula is in County Donegal, and is the largest peninsula in Ireland.  It is pretty rural and we passed several thatched roof cottages that people still live in.

 Malin Head is the northernmost point in Ireland, and is bordered by the Atlantic Ocean.  Malin Head was chilly and extremely windy.  It was hard even to stand up when some of the gusts hit.  The coastline is beautiful, and almost reminds me of parts of the Oregon coast, or the coast in Northern California.

 After we left Malin Head, we stopped at Farren's - the northernmost pub in Ireland.  This place was cool.  There was only one local guy in there.  Donal, our fearless leader, brought his guitar into the pub and played guitar while some of the guys played pool and we all sat around and chatted with our driver, Paddy, and the bartender. 

The bartender was pretty great - he managed to write my name in my Guinness in a half-pint.  That's a lot of letters to fit in a half-pint.  Quite impressive!  Paddy told me that the best Guinness was in Dublin, because Guinness doesn't travel well.  I hadn't been to Dublin yet, but I couldn't imagine a Guinness tasting better than the one I was drinking right then - it was creamy and chocolaty and had my name written on top!

We drove back to Derry, stopping for a bathroom/pint break every half hour or so - whenever we happened to come upon another pub, it was time to stop for a pee and a pint!  When we got back to Derry, we had some time before dinner, so we wandered around and ended up in a pub called "Bound for Boston."  We talked to some local guy forever - he had just turned 30.  We played songs on the jukebox and talked about Americans, homeless people, music, surfing, motorcycles, healthcare, and just about anything else we could think of.  Both that guy and the bartender thought that the best Guinness could be found in whatever pub people drink it a lot at, because the lines and taps are fresh. The local guy we talked to hates U2 and the Dropkick Murphys, and just wanted us to play Placebo on the jukebox.

We eventually headed back to the hotel for dinner, and turned in early.  I really wanted to get up early the next morning - we were leaving Derry the next day, and I really wanted to walk the walls of Derry before we left.

Ireland Day 4: Belfast to Derry, via Bushmills and the Giant's Causeway

Day 4 - I woke up feeling a little rough today from last night's adventures at Fibber Magees, but it was worth it.  First stop of the day - the Bushmills Distillery in Bushmills, County Antrim, Northern Ireland.  Personally, I'm not a huge fan of Bushmills.  It smells and tastes too sweet for me. (Short side story - close your eyes for this part mom - I drank a bottle of whiskey with my best friend when I was 15 and I puked for hours and hours.  The plus is that I had absolutely zero interest in drinking after that and didn't drink again at all until college.  The bad part is that still, to this day, if I smell most whiskeys, particularly if they have that sickeningly sweet smell, I gag and almost throw up in my mouth.  Bushmills smells too much like this for me to be able to stomach it.  I prefer Jameson.)  But back to Day 4.

The tour of the Bushmills Distillery was awesome!  In Northern Ireland (unlike in the Republic of Ireland), you can actually go into the distillery where the product is being made.  Despite the hangover, it smelled AWESOME in there!  We weren't allowed to take pictures inside the distillery, but I did take some outside.

Now on to the free whiskey!  At the end of the tour we each got a free whiskey.  You could choose from all the different whiskeys they make there.  I got a hot whiskey (which I had never tried before).  I managed to choke down my free whiskey with no incidents. It was actually really good, and I will definitely be replacing hot chocolate or hot tea as my drink of choice on a chilly winter night, or when I am sick.  Whiskey was originally called "uisce beatha", meaning "the water of life," and used for medicinal purposes by the monks.  Who am I to argue with the monks?  Next time I am sick, hot whiskey it is!

After finishing our free Bushmills, we piled into the van and headed to the Giant's Causeway.  The Giant's Causeway is located in County Antrim on the northeast coast of Ireland, very close to Bushmills.  It is a World Heritage Site and was named as the fourth greatest natural wonder in the UK.  (Side note:  for those of you who don't know, Northern Ireland is actually part of the UK.  I am not trying to insult anyone's intelligence by including this fact here.  I am including it because I'm not sure it is common knowledge - I did not realize this until we went on this trip - I had some vague knowledge about the whole Republic of Ireland, Northern Ireland, the Troubles thing, but did not know that Northern Ireland is actually part of the UK.  When we were there, my cell phone said "Belfast, UK" which really surprised me.  Also, their currency is the pound sterling.)

Back to the Giant's Causeway.  I know I am overusing this word, but it was amazing!  It is on the coast of the Irish Sea, and consists of a bunch of columns and stepping stones that are almost all the same size and shape.

The boring explanation for this is that about 50-60 million years ago, there was some volcanic activity in this area.  The better explanation is that an Irish warrior, a giant named Fionn MacCool, built the causeway to get to Scotland, to fight his nemesis Angus, another giant in Scotland.  Fionn fell asleep before he got to Scotland. When he didn't show up, the Scottish giant, who was much larger than Fionn, crossed the bridge looking for him. To protect Fionn, his wife Oonagh laid a blanket over him and he pretended to be their baby son.  When Angus saw the size of the baby, he assumed the father, Fionn, must be ginormous. Angus fled home in terror, ripping up the Causeway so that Fionn couldn't follow him.

Need some proof that the second story is the true one?  Here is a picture of Fionn's boot:

 Volcano my arse!  It was built by giants.

We left the Giant's Causeway and headed toward our final destination of the day - Derry (aka Londonderry - be careful which one you call it, depending on who you are talking to - loyalists, mostly Protestants, call it Londonderry - nationalists, mostly Catholics, call it Derry).  On our way there, we drove past the Dunluce Castle, also located in County Antrim.  The castle was built in the 13th Century on cliffs overlooking the sea.  Part of it fell into the sea - the story is that the owners knew that it was going to crumble into the sea, and they moved their servants' quarters into that part of the castle.  When that part collapsed into the sea, supposedly only one young kitchen boy survived.

We arrived at the Tower Hotel in Derry and took a much-needed nap.  We ate dinner at the hotel - I had the traditional roast beef dinner, which came with champ and brown gravy and Yorkshire pudding.  I'm mentioning this because I never had Yorkshire pudding before - I am leery of any Irish or English food that is called "pudding" because in my experience it usually consists of animal blood and some kind of other gross stuff.  Yorkshire pudding is delicious though - it is a pastry-type bread product (kind of the texture of a croissant) that is cooked under the meat so the drippings of the meat fall into it while it is cooking.  YUM!  I didn't go out this night - I had a half pint in the hotel bar, then went to the room to write postcards and note about our trip so far. 

Derry is the last walled-in city in Ireland, and is located along the bank of the River Foyle.  I'll talk more about Derry on my Day 6 post, because we got up early that morning and walked the walls of the city and saw a bunch of cool stuff.

Riddle me this . . .

One of the girls on the tour told us this riddle in the van -

There's a girl named Tillie Goodwell.  She's odd, she's queer, but she's not peculiar.  She likes pepper, but she doesn't like salt.  She likes kittens, but she doesn't like cats.  She likes Guinness, but she doesn't like Jameson.  What else does she like/not like?

Ireland Day 3: Belfast and Downpatrick, via Portaferry and Strangford

I woke up today feeling much more rested, and ready to explore!  We got up early and headed down to the breakfast buffet, unsure of what to expect.  Pure deliciousness!  Eggs, baked beans, rashers, sausages, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, black and white pudding (which I admit I did not eat), soda bread, fresh-squeezed apple and orange juices, fruit, cold ham, cheese, porridge, and, to my surprise, a gravy boat full of Bushmills!  Yes, you read that right - Bushmills on the breakfast bar.  Have I already said how much I love Ireland?  Technically, it is there so you can put it in your porridge, but you could (theoretically) slip some into your coffee or juice glass, and no one would be the wiser.  Just theoretically of course.

After breakfast, we took a quick walk around Belfast before the day's excursion.  We walked past City Hall (pictured below), and I stopped at a drug store to get some chapstick.  Their drug stores are pretty cool - you can buy every level of cosmetic or hair care product in the same place - just across the aisle from my chapstick was an Estee Lauder counter.  We continued our walk and eventually began seeing nothing but tattoo parlors and adult shops.  I'm beginning to think we are heading in the wrong direction.  Next we see people sitting in doorways pouring whiskey into their pop bottles at 8:00 am.  Whiskey at 8:00 am??  That's just uncouth (unless you get it at the breakfast buffet . . . ).

Next, the group piles into the van and heads to Downpatrick, in the County Down, to see Down Cathedral, the burial place of St. Patrick and various other interesting places.  The drive was quite scenic - we drove down the Ards Peninsula, along the shore of Strangford Lough (at least I think that is what it is called), an inlet from the Irish Sea.

We continued on to the small town of Portaferry, where we had the chance to explore the town for about half an hour.  We walked around and found the Portaferry Castle and an old church called BallyPhilip Parish Church, complete with an old cemetery.  Walking around the church, I managed to knock myself down and land on my (already hurt) knees and got rocks in my hands.  It hurt my pride more than my body, so to make myself feel better we stopped at a little bakery on the way back to the van, where I purchased some kind of delicious little tart-like treat for myself.

Portaferry Castle

BallyPhilip Parish Church

We made it back to the van and took a car ferry across the lough to Strangford.  What a beautiful view from the ferry!  The first two photos are views from the ferry looking back towards Portaferry, and the third is coming into Strangford.

On to Downpatrick . . . we arrive a little bit early for our tour of the Saint Patrick Centre, so we had some time to explore the town.  As we were driving through the town on the way in, I happened to spot a purple scarf in the window of a little shop.  As soon as I heard we had some free time, the hunt was on - I was determined to find the store with that scarf.  We found the store, I purchased the scarf (which appears in later photos if you are interested), and we struck up a conversation with the lady working at the shop so we could find out where there was a good, local, non-tourist-y place to eat lunch.  During this conversation, she was telling us about some kind of big commotion that happened in the town "really early in the morning . . . it must've been about 9:00."  This was one of my first indications that I was meant to live here.  Nine o'clock is really early here?  My kind of place!  But back to the story - she told us we should eat lunch at a little pub called Denvir's, so that is where we headed.  Turned out to be an awesome recommendation!  The bartender, Colum, was a really, really nice guy.  There was no one in the place except for me, my husband, and two locals.  The bartender and the locals chatted with us for awhile, we ate some delicious chicken goujons (aka fancy chicken fingers), and had a pint.  The bartender told us some of the history of Denvir's.  It is supposed to be Ireland's oldest coach inn, built in 1642.  The original fireplace in one room of the bar dates back to the 17th Century.  Colum asked my husband if he ever poured his own pint of Guinness, and let him come behind the bar so he could teach him how to do it.  Don't get too excited - I'm not going to give away that secret!  The bartender did tell us that the best pints of Guinness are in Dublin, because Guinness doesn't travel well.  I had plenty of pints in Dublin, but I think the pint at Denvir's might have been my favorite.  It was at least in the top three. 

Next it was off to the Saint Patrick Centre and the Down Cathedral, the burial place of St. Patrick.  If you don't know the story of St. Patrick, click here.  I'm too tired to type it all up here, but it is very interesting.  We took the tour of the center, then walked up to the Cathedral, and saw St. Patrick's burial site. 

We also visited the Down County Museum and the old County Gaol of Down, built in the late 1700's.  We then returned to Belfast and headed straight to Fibber Magees to see some more live music (a band called The Real Shindig, who happened to play at Kell's in Portland not too long ago) and have some pints.  We had Belfast's Best Pizza on the way to the pub (and again on the way back to the hotel).  At the pub, we chatted with a Scottish guy, had some more pints, danced to the live music, and proceeded to get a little wastey-faced and just have a great time (I believe this is what is known as the craic in Ireland).  All in all it was a great day!  One of my favorite days of the trip.