WIBBLER TOUR OF DUBLIN 2003
October 29th, 2003 Posted in Classics, Drunken Antics, HolidaysDAY 1 - Saturday 25th October
Our flight was scheduled to leave at 7am so we had to be at Heathrow by 5am to check in. Simon S, Michelle C, Nick M and I decided that 3am would be a good time to get up, load the car and canter off to to the airport. Before we sidled off to bed, we all set our phones for the correct alarm time of 3am.
‘BRRRR BRRRR BRRRR’. “SHIT, it’s 3 o’clock already,” I thought as I looked at my phone, confirmed the time and glanced across at Simon and Michelle who were blissfully unaware. I rose, ambled over to the light switch, took a deep breath and switched on the bright lights. They woke with a start. “Come on, it’s three o’clock, we’ve got to go” I said, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the shock of the lights. Simon checked his watch.
“But it’s only one o’clock”
“No it isn’t”
“Yes it is”
(proper look at phone) “BOLLOCKS”.
Shunta had phoned Simon S which had made HIS phone vibrate, which had woken ME up, thinking it was MY alarm. All quite odd.
Eventually we reached the airport, caught the flight and ended up in Southern Ireland - nine months after we had booked it and very much looking forward to three nights of drunken debauchery in a lively capital city - the Wibbler Tour of Dublin 2003 had begun.
We squeezed past fellow bus passengers, tripped over suitcases and panicked whenever the rear doors opened (as they almost squashed us) but enjoyed the half hour trip through Dublin, looking at the sites and laughing at Simon’s story of when his dog was chasing a butterfly and jumped off the edge of a castle…..!
We checked in at the hotel, had a hot chocolate in a random cafe and pottered around the Temple Bar shops, marvelling at the sights….. A siesta beckoned and, after Nick and I had got lost looking for the hotel, by 7 o’clock we were munching on an Irish stew and our first pints of Guinness in a traditional local restaurant.
We popped next door for a couple more and a few games of Millionaire, then ventured out further to Captain America’s cocktail bar where things really started to get going. We were all feeling the effects after a while and a round of shooters really put us in the mood for clubbing. But it was still early, so we headed for a couple of other bars.
We found one that had four storeys and here we made Simon enact some of the silly dances that we so often do, on a totally empty dancefloor. I met a fellow motor industry employee because, apparently, I “look the type” and we all sank a few Smirnoff Ice before heading off to Club M.
Highlights of the Club M experience include: a random photo with a hen party, being sprayed with drink in the aftermath of a female jealousy cat-fight, the girl with no legs in the dance cage and me talking crap and falling asleep on the dancefloor.
DAY 2 - Sunday 26th October
Surprisingly, we all woke up in the right hotel and without hangovers. Which was good because today was Simon’s birthday, as he kindly reminded us every five minutes.
We ambled down to breakfast, armed with his cards and presents. He had a Matchbox Twenty cd, Johnny English on DVD, the Ocean’s Eleven soundtrack, a Dublin t-shirt (extra large of course) with ‘25 TODAY - Never mind the quality, feel the width’ written on the back, and, from me, a Flying Ass.
Then it was time for the rugby, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere that was showing it, except a random hotel that we invaded. Needless to say, there was no atmosphere and the England v Samoa match didn’t start well. It was almost like watching it in a library, well, it would have been if we weren’t there yelling encouragement and urging the team on.
That tired us out and another siesta was called for. Then we watched the Spurs game, surrounded by Middlesboro fans and other northerners. I, therefore, was the only Spurs supporter in the vicinity which caused a bit of a stir and sooner or later there was some banter being thrown across the room, which was fun. The game was dull, though, but the beers were sinking nicely and we thought that we might as well stay out. We ended up in the Harley bar drinking cocktails and trying to get Simon as drunk as possible.
“I’ve found a breathalyzer machine” Michelle announced on her way back from the loo. So, off we went in search of the machine and intent on finding out who was the most drunk. It was a simple device - you put your money in, out comes a straw and you blow into the hole where the machine analyses the alcohol content of your breath. Nick was given a red alarm, so was I, but Simon merely a warning. This was a disappointment as it was his birthday and he should have been bladdered. There was only one choice - a spirit-loaded cocktail!
Nick was beginning to feel a bit rough - his 31 years clearly catching up on him. We ordered the cocktail for Simon and a Sambuca each for ourselves. Our Russian barman was starting to enjoy himself. “Do you want to get really p!ssed?” he said, already knowing the answer.
Before anyone could blink, I’d said yes and Nick said nooooooooo, almost falling off his stool.
“It’s my BIRTHDAY!”
The Russian produced the Sambuca again, tilted two glasses together, lit the drink, we downed it and sucked the fumes through a straw. Nick almost keeled over, I coughed and blamed my asthma, whilst Simon just laughed and sipped on his multi-spirit. Michelle was enjoying the entertainment and was no doubt looking forward to the next chapter - the All Sports Bar.
It was packed, it was hot, and it was fun. To be honest, I can’t really remember what happened in this bar but I’d just assume there was lots of drinking and giggling.
And then we went to the Ballroom nightclub where the debauchery continued. Some blatantly paid stunners (almost certainly escorts) turned up and flirted with everything in sight, whilst we watched from the fringes of the dancefloor.
So Simon’s birthday was over. Of course the original plan, hatched by yours truly in a particularly wicked and devious moment, was to endlessly spike Simon’s drinks with vodka, absynth and sambuca and for him to end up totally wrecked in the corner of the bar. Over we’d wander, amused, yet slightly concerned looks on our faces. We would help him to his feet, Nick one side, me the other, Simon’s arms draped over our shoulders so we could direct him towards the exit.
“It’ll be easier if we get the tram” we would say to him, and we’d get a grunt of agreement in return. We would then turn up at the train station, buy a ticket and sit him on a seat in one of the carriages.
We’d then write I.R.A. in large, capital letters in black marker pen on his t-shirt, shove a toy machine gun around his shoulders, slap a beany hat on his head and wipe some paint under his eyes, then send him on a train to Belfast!
Meanwhile, we’d scarper.
DAY 3 - Monday 27th October
A late breakfast, an eventful game of battleship (in which I was unjustly accused of cheating), and a long trek later, we arrived at the Guinness Storehouse where we intended to have the full guided tour.
We browsed around in the pre-tour gift shop, looking at the plethora of Guinness merchandise and trying not to buy everything in sight. What we did buy, though, were Guinness hats. And not just your ordinary baseball cap or flat cap, these were fully blown large, furry hats - the kind you see rugby supporters wearing - in the Guinness colours.
We then proceeded to the ticket area where Simon announced it was his birthday, prompting the assistant to let him in on a Senior Citizens entry fee! Nick was happy, though, as the same assistant remarked how much younger-looking Nick was in comparison to Simon, despite the six year difference! We donned the hats and this proved to be a turning point. The fun was REALLY about to start.
The tour involved following the history of how Guinness has evolved and learning about how it is made. We were too hungover and too excited about our hats to bother etching the ins and outs of the brewing process on our minds, instead deciding to have some fun with my digital camera. You can see some of the photos we took in the photo section, but for the next two days we wore the hats non-stop and had enormous fun pulling them down over each other’s heads at inopportune moments!
Eventually we reached the top of the Guinness Storehouse and therefore the end of the tour. At the top is the Guinness bar which looks out over the whole of Dublin and where our free pints awaited us. As we walked up the final stairs, the barman pointed at us and said “it’s an Irish tradition that if you walk into a bar with a hat on, the bar staff get to wear it.” We duly took our hats off and presented them to the staff who then plied us with free Guinness for the next two hours.
After having our photo taken at the bar and retrieving our hats, we looked out over Dublin and pulled each other’s hats down again - where a very amusing movie footage of Nick was taken. The decision was taken, at that point, to stay out for the rest of the day and drink more.
So we visited a few more bars, had a few cocktails and games of cards in TGI Friday’s and ended up in Wagamumas for dinner. From there we struggled to find anywhere open late night, but settled for FitzSimon’s once more where we played cards, drank a lot and generally pulled each other’s hats down.
DAY 4 - Tuesday 28th October
We had to be out of the hotel by 12 noon, so we did some souvenir shopping and packed our bags. Sombrely, we journeyed to the airport, still wearing our hats (in fact I woke up in mine) and waited for our plane, which was delayed. Still, we played cards, had another Guinness and mucked about with the hats - stares and glares from all around!
Eventually though, the Wibbler Tour of Dublin 2003 came to a close - we had thoroughly enjoyed our stay, for when we look back, we will remember the breathalyser machine, “what’s that sticking out of her back?”, the smooth authenticity of Guinness (no aftertwang), the hysterical movie footage and the endless fun and photos we had with our hats. Superb.
THE END
