Irish folks are great. They're cheerful and friendly and generous. They're wonderfully wonderful. One thing, though...they're not good at giving directions. I'm just gonna put that out there. I asked a well-dressed man for directions to the police station and I was told, "Go down and around the bend and then go a bit down and further down and then make a left and then right and continue down." and then the bloody fellow ran away. What. The. Hell. I had to ask one person per block (went 15 blocks) if I was going in the right direction. Forty five minutes later, I arrived at the police station. No worries, Ireland. I'll be alright.
All the following photos were taken with my iPhone. No fancy pics today. l wanted to travel light, so I left the heavy camera at Joan's place.
Here's the bus I took into town:
Made my way over to the passport office:
I was told (by numerous employees) that I had all the paperwork that I needed to get my Irish passport. The next step was to fill out a passport form, get my photos signed and stamped by an officer at the police station (that's why I needed directions to the police station) and then come back and hand it all in. This was all stuff that I could do in a couple of hours, so I thought for sure I'd have the passport by the end of the week. But after three hours of running from office to station and back to office, I find out that I actually need to apply at the Irish Consulate in America. If I was a Dublin resident then I could've received the passport right away.
Spent the rest of the day moving from restaurant to restaurant. Ate lunch at an organic restaurant called The Farm:
Had tea and used the free WiFi at Boulevard Cafe:
Had a wheatgrass shot at Cornucopia. (No pic.) Then went back back to The Farm for dinner.
I've been spending a lot of time with family, so it was really nice to just do my own thing at my own pace for a day.
Tomorrow? I head over to my aunt, Marion's, castle. (Yes, she actually lives in a castle.) It has over 35 rooms. No joke.