So it’s the first day. Or roughly the first day. We’re waiting for our hotel. This is before the last review, because my order ended up all screwy.
We walk into the Dingle Whiskey Bar. Without gushing too much about this place, it ends up becoming one of my favourite, if not the best, bars in Dublin. I’ll be writing up why later.
And before anyone asks: They didn’t pay me to say that, I wasn’t given any luxuries, and they never even knew who I was beyond my real name and the amount of whiskey I bought there.
One issue happens: I’m jet lagged, tired, full of Irish information from touring the Little Museum of Dublin (recommended stop), and just off of buying a whiskey at the Celtic Whiskey Shop (recommended stop). This causes me to have “Cheese Syndrome”. That’s where I walk into a cheese shop and…
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