Everywhere I turn there are stacks upon stacks of kegs. If you walk down any given street around 4 pm, you can see the delivery trucks hauling them down into the basement of the pubs in preparation for the masses. This is, by far, the drunkest place I have ever been.

All the hostels around here are in Temple Bar, a huge tourist type area full of Americans and obnoxious Irish boys trying to pick up drunk American girls. Dublin is teeny tiny, though. So, yesterday I walked a few blocks north and came to an adorable little restaurant and bar. I treated myself to a pint of Carlsburg and made friends with the bartender. She was kind enough to give me a tour of the area on her break and introduce me to a couple of her friends who bought my drinks the rest of the evening. This place reminds me of an alcoholic Italian mother. Don't try and tell anyone you aren't in need of a drink. They'll get you one anyway. I was able to make an absolute fool of myself in front of the adorable bar back who was doing an excellent job of ignoring me.

I think I will stay here a little while longer.