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As flights go, the hop from Teesside to Dublin is a short one. Forty minutes airborne is all you get. This is long enough for them to try to sell you overpriced coffee and sandwiches. Although I only had a bowl of Rice Krispies inside me, I was in no way tempted to hand over the hard-earned in return for any of the items on the trolley.
Just before we landed, the stewardess came on the loudspeaker and mentioned one of the stag night parties. Somehow I didn't believe it when she relayed their request for anyone to pass them lists of museums and churches to visit. Well, it got a laugh, which was deserved. I personally preferred this raucous humour to the twee "Welcome to Dublin's fair city" we received when the plane had come to a halt at the Irish end of our trip. If ever there was a good reason to provide a sick bag, this announcement was it. Perhaps the stewardess could vary the greeting in future. She could say "Welcome to this 'dirty old town'" or "Slainte and welcome to Blackpool" or even "Welcome to Dublin, try not to step on the craics in the pavement". I managed to keep my breakfast down in the end.
Airport, immigration, baggage claim, customs... you know the drill. As EU citizens, traveling from England, this was a procedure which was so eventless, I cannot think of anything to say about it. However, all of the traveling had to culminate in something, and, reaching the fresh air outside the airport terminal, we had entered the hardest phase of our day so far: getting to the hotel.
12 April 2002
Ashley Frieze