Frenchy's Rant

Last week’s trip to Ireland was my third in two years (yes, Ireland really is that good!) I was first introduced to the intoxicating Emerald Isle in April of 2006. To commemorate that momentous occasion I wrote a thirteen page journal entitled Ireland – Quest For the Perfect Pint.

While enduring another shocking delay yesterday courtesy of Delta – the reason for the delay this time had something to do with drunken pilots unable to find Cincinnati – I wandered into Borders bookstore to find a new book to kill some abundant time. Sadly, I’ve already read almost all the popular books they offer, so I went to the travel section. I’ve read almost everything there too, but one book caught my eye.

The cover design, all black with a one inch ‘head’ of foam, was all too familiar after my most recent Irish rehab stint. Hmm… how interesting! What could this book be? A history of Guinness? No. The book was Evan McHugh’s blatant ripoff of my journal, entitled Pint Sized Ireland – In Search of the Perfect Guinness.

Bastard! I should sue him!

Instead I bought the book, and by the time I landed in Milwaukee, I read half of it. I learned a few things from his book.

1 – McHugh had a better time in Ireland than I did on my first trip, possibly because he made his trip with Michelle, otherwise known in his book as Twidkiwodm (The-woman-I-didn’t-know-I-would-one-day-marry) and I made my first trip with Abi (a.k.a. A-boring-individual)

2 – My ‘perfect pint’ conclusion was different from his, but since Evan is Australian, my conclusion was right.

3 – Though Pint Sized Ireland’s first printing in the US was in 2007, a full year after my journal was written, the book’s first Australian printing was waaay back in in 2001, so technically he could sue me I guess.

4 – This book is a great read, and I highly recommend it. I’d also highly recommend my book, if I ever come up with an original topic and actually write one.

Back from my self induced rehab trip to Ireland, and I feel like some balance has been restored. Tried to keep up my Death Jogging regimen, but thankfully that only lasted one day. There are way too many pubs and interesting people to meet in Ireland to waste time running around. Plus I had a rental car.

A small old man bumped into me in another pub. His eyes were swimming in his head as he tried in vain to focus. Not sure what to do next, he extended his hand to me and mumbled, “I’m Tom, I’m droonk, and it’s maaagic!” It wasn’t long until Tom’s magic show ended, and he was crumpled in a heap on the floor.

While sipping a pint of Guinness in still another pub – yes there is a trend here – a guy came up to me, said something about me being a Guinness fan, and proceeded to tell me a story about something or other. His story was so long and involved it lasted me through two pints. When he finally finished his yarn, he shook my hand and walked away. Because of his thick accent and my pint input level, I hadn’t understood one single word the man said.

Believe it or not, there are also a few non pub-related Ireland stories – The main reason for this trip, aside from my Guinness rehydration therapy, was Fiona’s sister’s wedding. The wedding was beautiful and a lot of fun. Once it was over, we had three days left to sight see. The only motorcycle rental place I could find was in Northern Ireland, and the wedding was as far south as it could be. So, instead of riding the great roads of Ireland on a blue Yamaha FJR, we toured in REAL style – a royal blue Toyota Corolla Station Wagon!

We met a motorcycling couple from Holland. I listened as my new friend Joost bitched about the bad roads and worse drivers. He said his back hurt from the constant beating the roads dished out. However, his biggest complaint was one we both shared.

Sheep in the middle of the road.

We saw a bunch of ruined stuff on the trip:

And some cool things too:

Plenty of stuff like this:

And this:
Aww… How sweeeeet!
And finally: One of the places Fiona and I decided to drive to was the Drombeg Stone Circle, located in the middle of nowhere down some small dirt roads. My map indicated this particular stone circle was ‘of interest’, opposed to the Lisseyviggeen Stone Circle, which was marked as ‘not of interest’ on the map.

In this case the map was right. This ‘of interest’ altar was used in Druid ceremonies dating back to 945 BC. Somehow the Druids figured out how to align their alter (the rightmost, lowest stone in the circle) exactly with position of the sun on the Winter Solstice, which everyone knows is December 21st. How the Druids knew that way back in 945 BC is a mystery to me, as is how anyone managed to figure the ‘stone altar alignment with the sun’ thing out in a country that is almost always cloudy.

Stone circles are interesting, for about ten minutes tops. Then it’s time to go. At a dirt road intersection, I noticed a woman running towards me, flagging me down. Expecting some kind of emergency, we stopped and waited as she ran up to the car. I mean we were in the middle of nowhere, so there had to be some reason for this lady being out there.

This mystery woman came up to the car, opened the door and jumped in the back seat. “Boy, am I glad to see you! Can you give me a lift to town? It’s such a long walk you know.”

In California, this would get you shot, but in Ireland, it gets you a ride.

The so-called ‘experts’ say that any training regimen should be eased into. I am starting to believe they may have a point.

After three incredibly intense days of Blood and Guts Masochism, I’m nearly dead. The sharp pains shooting down my left arm haven’t gone away, the floor constantly moves like a treadmill, and my right lung seems to have collapsed, or at least stopped working.

Quitting my Cheeseburger and Guinness diet cold turkey AND making my heart over rev like an Indycar on that damn GrimReaper 6000000 treadmill at the same time is proving to be too much of a shock to the system.

The experts are right. I do need to start off slower. So, much like Lindsey Lohan, Bald Britney, Amy Winehouse (They tried to make her go to rehab, but she say no no no. She ended up there anyway) and the rest of the recreational rehabbers do when the going gets rough, I’m off to Ireland for some intense ‘rehab.’ Right now, nothing sounds better than vigorous Guinness rehydration therapy in a proper Irish pub.

I’ll try to post from the Emerald Isle – if free Wi-Fi is available at the pub… err… the ‘rehab center‘ that is. If not, I will resume posting when my rehab stint is complete.

In the meantime, post your best caption for the caption contest below!