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St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin | College Magazine Blog

St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin

Rosemary Lane

I spent the weekend before St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin-an Irish girl in a college kid’s dream. But it wasn’t what I thought. On my first night, I went to Temple Bar, a notorious breeding ground for booze-hungry tourists.

Temple Bar region

Temple Bar region

We elbowed our way through college boys wearing Virginia t-shirts and drunk girls swaying to Oh Danny Boy. After ordering Guinesses, my friends and I met two friendly Irishmen who bought us drinks and danced a jig with us to Van Morrison. So far so good. But then, one of the Irishmen said, “Why did you come here? Don’t spend your time in pubs.” What? This is Ireland! This is St. Patrick’s Day weekend! He explained that he wanted me to see Ireland’s historical sites and not only think of the Irish as barhopping drunkards. And after that weekend, I don’t.

Surveying the streets at 3 a.m., I saw Spanish kids chanting and clapping, an American girl shaking her booty to the sounds of bongo drums, and joined my fellow group members in S Club 7 songs. I saw drunk Chicagoans with shamrock tattoos stumbling around the streets demanding Subway, and two Spanish men wearing wife beaters that had on it “Kiss Me, I’m Maybe Irish.”

Although the Irish do go out, it seemed that Americans and people of other nationalities outnumbered them this weekend. In Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day is a day of holy obligation for Irish Catholics—not like it is in the states.

Two years ago, I went to Savannah, Georgia, which hosts the largest St. Patrick’s Day parade in the world. Between kids clamoring for beads, tripping over beer cans, and the sea of green shirts that poured out of every bar like a fresh Guiness tap, it was impossible to enter a bar.

What did you do this St. Patrick’s Day? Was it filled with green beer bongs and 7a.m. bar calls? Back home in Milwaukee, Murphy’s opened at 6 a.m.

And one more thing—don’t order Irish Car Bombs in Ireland. Just take my word for it.

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