It is nearly two in the morning and there are six of us propping up the bar in the little Irish pub next to our hotel. It only occurs to us the morning afterwards that the bar man was offering to check two of our friends into the hotel and not inviting us in for a nightcap. Still he took it in his stride, despite the fact he was due to be teaching first thing. We drink Guinness and Baileys and are probably louder than we intend to be, full of laughter and prosecco from the wedding we have just spent the day celebrating at.
The barman – Sean I think – chats Irish history with us; growing up on the Emerald Isle and the impending 8th amendment referendum. He’s interesting, in the way that someone is when their life differs so vastly from yours.
We laugh a lot. We take blurry, messy photographs. I learn family histories of those around me. I pee in a New York-themed bathroom. I drink more Baileys – a recently discovered love – and particularly enjoy the silky texture in my mouth. We play the beer mat flipping game, some better than others. We wave twenty euro notes around in an attempt at paying. I go to bed and flick through photos of the day and think about how all you really need in life is good people.
There are so many laughter-filled nights with friends to look forward to.
Comments