.:Of Dublin:.

I know I promised to tell you more about my CDG experience, but I think I'll dedicate the next entry to my dear Farah. She's been my inspiration for the past six months since I've known her. A wonderful woman indeed, she's the kind of person that could make even the dullest of days a cheery one with her smile and her laughter. I truly enjoyed my short stay in Dublin, getting to know the city, the people and in particular, Ms Farah herself. Here are some pics for your viewing pleasure:


That's me in front of Dublin Castle. Well, it's not much in terms of size (I've seen bigger manors in England), but it certainly beats the competition when it comes to history and culture. Did you know that the word Dublin is actually a bastardised version of the Gaelic word meaning "black water", which is the name of the river feeding the moat surrounding Dublin Castle? Well, now you know.

The interior of Dublin Castle. This is the Drawing Room.



One of the main corridors within the castle. Note the golden gilds surrounding the ceiling.

This is the main chandelier in the Throne Room. Interestingly, the bronze detail (unclear in the photo) contain references to all four British Isles members of the United Kingdom: the English rose, the Scottish thistle, the Irish shamrock and the Welsh ermm.. leek. Sheesh.

That's Farah on my left. I had just arrived in Dublin that day. She adores the colour pink, by the way. An incredibly useless fact to you readers, I know, but I just thought I'd share it anyway. =)

I arrived on St patrick's Day weekend, so there were plenty of street carnivals, shows and funfairs. After visiting Dublin Castle, we took a leisurely stroll to an area near Trinity College, where a funfair with rollercoaster rides and various other instruments of gravity-induced pleasure (or pain in my case)was being held. You should've seen her eyes gleam with excitement (and I suspect, a certain amount of naughtiness). I somehow found myself dragged onto a ride five minutes later; the next thirty seconds of stomach-churning circular motion were quite uncomfortable for yours truly, I assure you.

On our way to Bray; from far left: Anep (I stayed with him for a couple of days. Thanks for letting me bunk at your place dude!), Eileen, Ja, myself. We were looking forward to a nice picnic by the beach, but the weather, being British in nature, wasn't exactly being cooperative. In fact, I nearly froze my boll**ks off. It was the coldest picnic I've ever had, but the food was excellent, the company was superb.. I couldn't have had any complaints, really.

Farah on the way to Bray. Words fail me. *sigh*

At the seaside town of Bray. The town seemed rather surreal. They were taking down the rides (St Pat's Day weekend was already over) and people were shutting themselves indoors as it was waay too cold to be venturing out. So there we were, a couple of Malaysians, walking on the promenade, with nothing but a few mad joggers and their equally crazed dogs for company. It seemed rather sad, like an old town falling sleepily into decay. Having said that, the constant litany of jokes and laughter by my companions cheered me up immensely whenever such morose thoughts began dominating my mind.

"Honey, why are you keeping your hands in your pockets? Are your hands cold?"
"No dear, I'm just using my hands to keep my nuts warm.."
"Oh..."

Oopss.. my lunch hour's over. Need to get back to work. I'll continue later, people. Take care!



Latest reads: "Do Not Pass Go" by Tim Moore.
Latest tunes: Vivaldi, The Four Seasons.