That Awkward Moment When the Wind Blows Your Train Into the Ocean: Howth Part Two

Apparently, Brillo was upset about the “egregious lack of himself” in Part One. (He’s nothing if not well-spoken.) So he did the mature thing and stole my phone, spending the better part of an hour attempting selfies.

Which didn't work out well at all, due to his egregious lack of arms. BURN!

Which didn’t work out well at all, due to his egregious lack of arms. BURN!

In any case, back to Howth. We last saw our hero examining a sun dial or lack thereof. This was followed by some hilarious commentary on Ireland’s weather that you should totally check out, because my word, was it clever. You should consider posting it to Facebook – that’s how funny it is. Live vicariously through the wacky misadventures of –

Brillo took my phone again.

In the meantime, here’s an interesting bit of trivia. Dublin, Ireland, has the highest per capita rate of dog feces left on sidewalks [Source: My shoes]. And yet, next to the sundial was this sign:

That's some expensive shit, man.

That’s some expensive shit, man.

Do you realize what this sign means? This means that the Irish are willing to risk a €3,000 fine just so they don’t have to pick up their dogs’ messes. People here may be exceptionally friendly and fun, but damn if they’re unwilling to pick up the business.

I guess that explains their economy.

I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. But so was the processed kibble I’ve been scraping off my shoes all week.

But I digress. Back to Howth.

After the park, we took a walk along the promenade.

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As I mentioned last time, Howth is exceptionally windy.

My hair measures windspeed in twirls per minute, and is accurate to the nearest tenth of a follicle.

My hair measures windspeed in twirls per minute, and is accurate to the nearest tenth of a follicle.

Walking out to the lighthouse at the end of the prom, you feel like you’re about to Mary Poppins into the ocean. Just up and fly away.

"Sometimes I come here and imagine flying away on a magical umbrella to a land free of my earthly troubles. I've ruined, like, six good umbrellas that way."

“Sometimes I stand here and imagine flying off on a magical umbrella to a land free of my earthly troubles. I’ve ruined, like, six good umbrellas that way.”

En route to the lighthouse, we passed this derelict boat:

"So this cute tugboat told me to go beach myself, and I was like, 'SHORE thing!' Heh, heh. I'll be here all week. Probably next week, too."

“So this cute tugboat told me to go beach myself, and I was like, ‘SHORE thing!’ Heh, heh. I’ll be here all week. Probably next week, too.”

The deck:

I had to control the urge to jump down and play pirate.

I had to control the urge to jump down and play pirate.

Photographing Brillo was actually rather difficult, as strong wind is infamous for picking up light things and placing them elsewhere.

When he's not stealing my phone, he's sailing off on a light breeze.

When he’s not stealing my phone, he’s sailing off on a light breeze.

That island in the background is called Ireland’s Eye, and has nothing in particular to do with Ireland or eyes, other than being visible in the country of that name. The original Celtic appellation is Eria’s Island. This was later confused with Erin, the English form of Éireann, which in turn is the possessive form of Éire, the Irish word for Ireland. Not to be etymologically outdone, the Vikings switched out “Island” for their word “Ey,” which still means island but includes more axes and pillaging. Thus did they arrive at Erin’s Ey, and later Ireland’s Eye. I was honestly disappointed when I learned that no awesome legend existed to justify the awkwardly ocular moniker.

Eventually we made it to the lighthouse.

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I don’t know any interesting stories about this one. It’s a lighthouse, and as far as I know has always been a lighthouse. If you want more history, I guess you can read that thing about Ireland’s Eye again. Other than that, there’s not much I can tell you.

...but I can SHOW YOU.

…but I can SHOW YOU.

Beyond the lighthouse is this tower thing:

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And here is a better view of Ireland’s Eye. The buildings on it are the remains of a Martello tower and an 8th-century church.

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This is me, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can, in fact, see the island:

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And here’s Brillo, proving that you don’t have to see the island if you don’t want to:

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Looking back at the lighthouse and harbor:

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We wanted to head into town to grab some lunch. Brillo, however, wouldn’t leave without a photo session, as mandated in his contract.

If Hallmark sees this, I can consider my trip paid for.

If Hallmark sees this, I can consider my trip paid for.

“Brillo, I think that guy over there actually needs this.”
“Just a minute.”
“Yup, he’s drowning all right.”
“Bam. New Facebook profile pic.”

“What’re you waiting for, Xavier? Surf’s up!”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s grass.”
“Pfft. Wimp. Hey, does this stain fur?”

He only let us leave when I convinced him my iPhone ran out of film.

Because Ireland is essentially the Skyrim of Northern Europe, we hadn’t even picked out a restaurant before we saw ruins.

"Wanna see my rock collection? It's in the shape of a church."

“Wanna see my rock collection? It’s in the shape of a church.”

When we finally found a place to eat, we were cold and wet. Fortunately, the restaurant served hot chocolate. It was more hot than chocolate, but at that moment, heat was all that mattered.

Who am I kidding? That stuff was terrible.

Oh, no, don’t you dare tell me this is going…

…To be continued in (probably) the final installation, Howth Part Three.

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