The wicked Wicklow Way

Thanks to Captain Hans Mallaney, Mr. C and I safely arrived. It was raining quite heavily and the six °C at Dublin Airport were a rough change to the 22 at which we left Düsseldorf.

After a rainy ride on the 474, we found our plan for a nice arrival beer swimming away at 11 pm at the sight of a closed and dark Heuston Station. We decided to take a taxi to the hotel instead of wasting more time searching for a pub. The taxi driver’s sudden question “do you know where we are?” came a bit as a surprise, but the situation fortunately could be cleared up by the lady from within the device, which safely guided us to Ardagh House around midnight.

After checking in Mr. C, we decided to finally try and get our well-deserved beer. Our way led us to The 108, where Mr. C complained a lot that to him everything tastes like vinegar in Ireland. My IPA, his red ale and the crisps (which admittedly were salt and vinegar).

At around 2:30 am, I finally headed to Abrae Guest House, where Mrs. E was already fast asleep. We set the alarm to 6:30 am, which definitely felt wrong given the time. Especially considering the 24 km ahead of us the next day and a forecast that had not much more than more rain for us.


NP: Röyksopp & Robin – Monument

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