Pants, pot noodle and passports...

Due to a random drunken decision six weeks ago, Pootle and I found ourselves jetting off to Ireland this weekend. Dublin to be precise.

The hobbits and I have recently just moved house and Pootle is in the process of buying hers, so this felt like something we needed to do to let our hair down, however we were also reliably informed that Dublin was expensive...not a good time for added expense.

"Don't worry," Pootle reassured me, "we take clean pants, our passports and we can survive on Pot noodles should we need to."

So leaving unpacked boxes and the heating system on low, our adventure started with the unforgettable flight journey with Ryan Air; attended by the wicked witch of the west and her mate.

Could the staff on this low budget airline be any more miserable? Muttering through the safety procedure, grumbling about the inconvenience of changing a five euro note and almost pushing us down the steps on arrival. Ryan Air - making it memorable.

However, not to have our excitement quelled...here we were in Dublin. In Ireland. The home of James Joyce, The Pogues, Leprechauns and most importantly...the black stuff...Guinness.

...and what a fabulous city it is.

Many people made suggestions for our weekend, but we were warned by the mother of Pootle, than in no uncertain terms not to go to Main Street. Allegedly, there were undesirables there...i.e. Drunkards, people who partied all night, men etc... So we promptly googled it and made our way to Temple Bar. A city of buzzing night life and Irish jigging...a match made in heaven.

We visited the Leprechaun museum, the only place to make me feel tiny on a chair, tried Irish Stew in a small pub; drank a large Whiskey at the Jameson's factory...and got a tad tipsy on Guinness on the Guinness tour.

The best bit however, just had to be rocking it late into the wee early hours of sunday morning back at Temple Bar, with some new found friends. People, like us, who were not quite ready to sit in their rocking chairs and give into the aches and pains of older age.

So if you ever get a chance to go to Dublin...enjoy the Guinness, the Whiskey, and the friendliness of the Irish...after all, all you need to get away is just your pants, your passport and some pot noodles...