We spent the morning walking around Temple Bar, peeking in the windows and headed towards the Guinness brewery. It’s a bit of a walk and it is absolutely massive. You can see Guinness buildings for miles but finding your way in, that’s the challenge.
We went inside the factory and toured round, making it to the top for our free pints. The bar at the top is circular with glass windows so you can see across Dublin.
We had heard of a church on the north side of the river which had a crypt that you could go into from our tour guide on the bus the day before. Being slightly morbid as I am, I was fascinated, so we went in search of it. Not having a name or really any idea where it was, we were on a bit of a blind mission, but with some luck we ended up there anyway. It’s called St. Michan’s, a protestant (!) church on the north of the Liffey with a crypt running underneath. The tour guide came to take us and a pair of German girls down through the trap door.
There are several crypts on either side, some stacked high with dusty wooden coffins. They are owned by Dublin families, some of which still have living descendants who could decide they wished to be buried there even today.
At the end of the corridor is the creepiest part.
He told us what he could about them. on the right, a woman. . In the centre a man whose feet have been cut off. He said it may have been because he was too tall, or that he may have been a thief, as one of his hands is also cut off. On the left, a nun. Her toenails have kept growing and are quite long. Along the back wall is the crusader. The tour guide moved the railing aside. It’s good luck to shake hands with the crusader. He said. His hand has been broken so we were instructed to touch his finger. Johnny, one of the German girls and me went in. The other German girl just couldn’t get herself to do it. Their skin is drawn tight around the bones. They are thick with dust and feel a bit leathery. But it’s supposed to be good luck…
We went straight off to buy a Euro Millions ticket. (Neither of us won, but mum called the next day to say my student loan had been approved so it must have done some good)
We went to the airport by taxi, dropping off a nun at the convent along the way. Our flight was delayed, so we stood in line for ages but when we finally got on the plane all was good, a quick hour later we had touched down at Luton.
We headed to our hostel. Well, we thought it was a hostel. Our taxi dropped us off and we walked up to the back porch of a house at 1 am. We found that it was actually a young Eastern European lady and her English boyfriend with two spare rooms in their flat; one with four bunks, and one with a gabled roof and a double bed, where we would be. We felt kind of rude about popping in at that hour, though I had booked and specified we had a late flight, we were the only people staying. But we were so tired, that room was absolutely perfect, and our host was lovely. We crashed out immediately.