Irelands part I: Dublin & Howth

Back in autumnal 2017, a couple friends from the awkward, adolescented era of my life (well, one longtime friend and one wonderful new friend) came to stay in Hamburg for a while as part of a Grand European Adventure. While exploring the Hansastadt together (ie. probably drinking tea in my kitchen), Asa -- a true whiz on the Irish whistle -- did some wondering out loud about potentially meeting up in Ireland a few weeks later to hike and whistle, whistle and hike, etc. Considering I still had some vacation days to use up and have only had great experiences in Ireland thus far (like in 2013 and 2014), I was on board. Soon thereafter the travel arrangements were made, and come one Friday in mid-November, I left work at the end of the day and instead of going home, hopped on a flight to Dublin. A cab took me through the pouring rain to the home of a Smithie friend (and general kickbutt human), tired but ready for a change of pace and place. 

The first day was plenty relaxed and spontaneous, involving brunch, cake, a couple hours of city wandering in the rain, Smithie tea, a couple hours of city wandering in the not-rain, fab dinner with friends, football-viewing in a pub, and yay, more friends. Here are some pictures from said city wanderings in various neighborhoods, castles, and esteemed college campuses. 

 

After reuniting with the friends who instigated this trip, we decided to take advantage of the sunny Sunday by taking a little excursion to Howth -- a classic Dublin outing (as previously visited in cold times and warm ones). The wind was fierce in the harbor and on the northern edge of the peninsula as we ascended to the cliff walk, but still the paths were full of people speaking all languages, as was expected with such weekend weather. Depending on the cliff curve ahead of us we were either walking in silhouette or with faces full of sun, squinting happily while recharging our vitamin D batteries. This was not only pleasant (for those of us with sunglasses) but also necessary, considering that was by far the highest dosage we got in the ten or so days on the island. 
 

The tourists almost all but disappeared once we got around to the south side of the peninsula, as did the wind, leaving us with open trails and room for skipping merrily from photo op to photo op. Many of the hillsides that were bright green the last time I'd seen them were now an orangey-brown -- a color that may seem drab under cloudy conditions but really popped beneath the blue sky.
 

This wall was made with shells, glinting white in the light.

The sun set over a distant Dublin as we rounded the west side of the peninsula, the trail crossing a highly manicured golf course with a fab view of the bay, then winding through a forest that felt magical in the gathering dusk. 
 

A local older gentleman chatted us up while out walking his chubby, old dogs as we neared the town, and advised us to leave the marked route and go into town another way, saying the path was shit (as close to his words as I can remember) and would be a waste of time. We followed his advice, and despite him saying we wouldn't find a table in any of the restaurants (he said we should go to his favorite fish shack at the harbor -- next time), found a spot in a tavern and had a amazing, warming dinner followed by bread pudding. A perfect conclusion to several hours of fresh air hiking, and the fuel we needed to drive from Dublin to Belfast later that night.