part one.
-So what do you feel like doing tonight?
The two women were sitting in a restaurant in Dublin�s Temple Bar area. It was a clear day, and the weather wasn�t bad. Not bad for Dublin in the fall that is. They had arrived in the city earlier that day, after spending three hours on a bus from Belfast.
-I saw this sign at the hostel, the blonde woman said. Something about a pubcrawl for backpacker and people like us.
-That sounds like fun, her friend, a brunette, replied. I don�t really care what we do. But it does sound like a good idea. Let�s do that.
They finished their meal and went back to their hostel to get a few hours of rest before the evening that lay ahead.
It was a quarter to eight when they left their hostel in the middle of Temple Bar and strolled towards the front gates of Trinity College. The city was just waking up. Big cities like this one have more than one face, and as the business people went home to their families and homes those who want other things than a climb up the corporate ladder were entering the streets.
It was cold, and the blonde regretted leaving her gloves at the hostel. But she didn�t think about going back to get them even for a second. The night was just about to begin, and she loved every minute of it. This night was going to be hers. For the first time in her life she was out at night in a big city, far away from home without family or the security that surrounds you in places you have lived for years. Nobody knew her in this city, or in the country for that matter. The brunette was her friend of course, but they had only met a few weeks earlier. They were both studying in a town across the border, and they had met when they sat down at the same table to eat dinner.
They were early, the blonde always walked fast and the brunette sometimes had trouble keeping up with her. But she never complained. After a quick walk around Trinity College, stopping to look at the rugby players, they were back at the front gates where a small crowd had begun to gather.
-Are you here for the backpackers� pubcrawl?
The voice behind the blonde belonged to a tall dark haired guy in his mid twenties.
-Yes, she answered, and he introduced himself as Darren.
They chatted about where they were from, the blonde was Swedish, the brunette was from Denmark and Darren of the pubcrawl was from Canada. He was cute, she noticed. But he wore a claddagh ring on his ring finger. Ah, she thought, already spoken for.
As Darren moved through the crowd chatting to the rest of his customers the blonde turned to the brunette.
-He was kind of cute, don�t you think?
-Well, I guess, but he�s wearing a ring.
-Yes, I noticed.
Ah well, she thought to herself, plenty of other fish in the sea anyway.
-Besides, I think I have had enough of Canadians for now, she said, remembering her last failed attempt at �romance�.
The crowd moved through Trinity College, stopping in front of the library. Darren climbed the stairs and faced the crowd.
-Hi kids!
-Hi old man, the blonde replied, grinning. She wasn�t going to let an opportunity like this slip through her fingers.
-I am not that old.
The blonde could tell that her comment had thrown him a bit. His tone of voice was slightly defensive, and the way he stressed �that old�. So he�s old enough to worry about his age, she thought.
-Welcome to the backpackers� pubcrawl, my name is Darren and I am the founder of this pubcrawl. He continued by telling how he first discovered the pubcrawl phenomena and the need for one in Dublin.
The crowd, between fifteen and twenty people, moved on to the first pub, a student place overlooking Trinity College�s rugby fields.
The blonde and the brunette got talking to two American guys from Los Angeles who claimed to be actors. The brunette was fairly quiet, sipping her half pint of Guinness. The blonde was chatting away to one of the Americans, Chris, seriously doubting that he was an actor. She kept asking him questions like �so how do you pay your rent� and what�s your other job�.
A note, part two
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