Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The Colonel returns from R&R in Dublin

Not all of Dublin is a shithole.

There I've said it; Let the walls of reality come crashing down. In retrospect, I think perhaps it was because my experience of the Pale was limited to the decrepit inner city and not the more enchanting outlying areas which I saw a lot of over the weekend. How naive I was to think that the whole city was a dump, it's not so.

Let's go back to the start for the moment, my rest and relaxation- (if one could use that military term to describe the weekend) began with a journey I've taken many times before: the train to Dublin. I was somewhat disappointed that no inbred-yokels from "de wesht" got on the train and debated Reganomics with me like last time I took the train so I had to be content with the entertainment provided by the October issues of my PC Gaming mags and soothing tones from my soon-to-be-decommissioned iPod.
I choose to sit down in a booth with a middle-eastern looking man even though a) he's not someone I would choose to talk to and b) there was plenty of empty booths further down the cabin. No I choose him because if he turned out to be terrorist filth I'd be in a good position to jam the Phillips screwdriver part of my multi-tool into his temple if he made one wrong move. Thankfully I guess, all he did was stare out the window, sleep and eat a revolting egg sandwich from a tupperware lunchbox.

The purpose of my visit to Dublin was to take part in the celebration of a friends 30th Birthday, an event of my own last year that I tried to forget and attempted to will it not to happen. This man however embraced its inevitability with passion and a fridge full of Heinekin. His brother, a man I've known for almost 27 years who was also my first C.O. collected me from the Railway Station, fed me and brought me to the first event of the day: Go-karting.
Now those of you who have been Go-karting, especially a somewhat tame indoor senario have no concept of what this lethal Dublin version has in store. Rather insanely we were racing around a course at top speed in torrential rain; so the brakes didn't work, your hands slipped on the steering wheel and the rain itself almost completely obscured your vision. Oh yes in the space of a lap of the course, one was completely saturated to the skin. But yet somehow throughout all that, it was a fantastic rush and an incredible riot. An experience I'd choose to repeat albeit with waterproof overalls.

After drying off and recovering from that. I was able to take a few moments to appreciate the tranquility and serenity of Phibsborough where the apartment which would serve as my base of operations was situated. See how relaxed I am, as I see how some Dublin people live, by the beautiful canal, teeming with the life of swans and ducks, birds chirping and families walking their assorted canines.

Darkness soon came upon us however, and it was off to Temple Bar where we began the evening festivities. These commenced with a fine feed at Luigi Malone's, the Dublin branch of a franchise whose restaurant I frequent in Cork from time to time. The fillet steak was exquisite, but I made the tragic error of drinking practically an entire bottle of wine with it- something that would come back to haunt me the next day.

After embarrassing the birthday boy enough with a 20-voice rousing rendition of the most famous and most sung song in the world- we adjourned to a local pub to down a few pints (or as in my case a few shots- see where this is going?) of our favourite tipple.

A short taxi-ride brought us to our final destination, the birthday boy's house where he had previously amassed one of the largest collections of alcohol I've witnessed for some time, including an enormous sink filled with ice and Heinekin (and no Miller to the annoyance of his brother) . No one was injured by the bullet popping corks from the champagne (unlike the last party I was at) and by the time we fell out the door some at around 4am ?? I doubt there was much of any drink left; there was certainly much less of one of two bottles of Jack considering my unusual need for Neurofen, being limited to tea & toast the next morning and falling asleep for practically the entire train journey home (thus rendering me useless to thwart any terrorist attacks at that point) .

New mental note: Wine + champagne + Jack = Evil.


Anonymous said...

I feel betrayed that you were incapable of protecting the people on the train on your return journey. What use would the screwdriver on your multitool have been had the middle-eastern chap tried something? You were unfit to discharge your duties.
Hope you had a good weekend though!

Anonymous said...

Welcome back to barracks, COLONEL

A luvly liquid weekend. Have you ever been here?

Anonymous said...

YOU feel betrayed Sith? Imagine how it is when you're left for dead in a stinking jungle by the man for 7 years with only an enemy interrogator as your companion?

His derelection of duty on the train means his failure is almost complete!

Anonymous said...

It can't be all bad, it did produce some quality people even in spite of it self (ahem!)

Unknown said...

Why the fuck is the Colonel pictured drinking what appears to be a glass of white wine????? Has that weekend in Dublin turned you sissy boy???? What next bicardi breezers at Taboo??? One by one all my hero's turn gay, Liberace, Sulu, Freddy Mercury!!!! Damnit that terrorist had nothing to fear, you'd probably have kissed him to death!!!

Lieutenant General Creedon said...

@ Sithy: Well I had a good look around before nodding off and there was no wogs about so I felt it was allright to get some kip.

@ Seeker: No, I've never been there. I have little intrest in Guiness. I have been to the Heinekin brewery museum in Amsterdam and a number of Whiskey distilleries. I do intend to go to Lynchburg, Tennessee at some stage though.

@ Guns: Bring it on, I'm waiting.

@ d k eeshan: Who? Bono? Muahahahahah!

@ Cubaboy: It is indeed wine. I know. It was either that or mineral water at the time. Which would you have chosen?

Unknown said...

Given a choice between mineral water and wine I would expect a man of your standing to drink his own still warm urine first!!!

Anonymous said...

We can add this Wine-drinking to the list of charges against the Colonel. Are you taking notes Rabb?

Anonymous said...

What the Colonel does in his own time is his bussiness, as long as in doesn't bring the marine Corp into disrepute then let me on I say.

So Colonel, continue with your sordid activities but don't get caught, if in the event of capture, destroy with extreme prejudice any evidence/witnesses.

Capt. Harmon Rabb said...

Unfortunatly I doubt I could make "Wine Drinking" stick as a charge. Being Drunk on Duty however is an offence as outlined in Article 112 of the UCMJ. If it could be prooved that Col. Creedon was supposed to be on duty that day...

Anonymous said...

I can't imagine the colonel neglecting duty. He is wearing civvies in the photo -unless they've changed the Corps' uniform shirt to a green and burgandy checkered pattern since I was in LOL

Lieutenant General Creedon said...

While Marines are "the force in readiness" and are "always on duty" etc. We are given time off, deal with it.