The family time

Yeah, as I might have said, my family was also in Ireland. When I say family I mean my sister, mother and father. Me and my sister travelled further, but my mom and dad went home on Monday (20.06)

Lets take this from the beginning...

Thursday (16.06).
I woke up early in the morning, and my mom ran around like a headless chicken. Luckily was I finish packing the day before, and it was only some stuff left to pack. I have no idea how many times I checked for my passport and VISA-card. 
After a lot of waiting, we finally got out of the house, and down to the bus. And we drove to Nesttun, and then we had to find a taxi. That is easier said than done. After a while, we found a taxi, and our voyage towards Ireland. Oh, what joy.
We arrived at the airport, and we got through the security control and sent the baggage to Ireland.
And since we were so early, we had to wait QUITE long.

But eventually we got on the plane to Copenhagen, and oh god, the seats must be made for Leprechauns. There were absolutely NO space for my feet. In Copenhagen we stretched our legs, and walked to the next flight.
There were not much more room for my feet there either. When we arrived in Dublin, my dad was so happy to get the opportunity to get a smoke, and I was happy to have found a toilet that actually worked, and did not scare the shit out of you. (and the man in the passport control was SO handsome).

We went out, and took the airport bus to the city centre. Oh god, how many detours that bus took. And after a long bus drive, on the wrong side of the road, we came to the centre. After a lot of going-the-wrong-way walking, we finally found our hostel (Kinlay Hostel), and my mom was so disappointed that there were no soap or towels there. I was more interested in the view from our window, so I open it up, and looked out side. Almost half my body was on the outside of the window, and I took some photos of the street. 

We "installed" our self in the room, and went out for food, cause we were starving. I was close to kick the bucket, but I survived. We found a restaurant, and ate a yummy pizza. 
We walked back to the hostel, and went to bed.

Friday (17.06)

I woke up in a half-dazed-state. The bed was fucking hard! Not to much sleep either, so me and Synneve went down to eat breakfast. 6 slices of bread, one cup of tea and stuff.
Afterwards we went on an excursion, and we found Spar AND Tesco.
I bought at least 16 postcards.
We walked back to the hostel, and woke our parent up, and then they had to eat breakfast.
After breakfast we just walked around in a haze, without any determined place. Or, Synneve was obsessed with museums, and museums and memorial stuff. Oh lord!
I was complaining on how painful everything were, and how boring.
So we ended up going to the French Embassy, and ate Quiche Loraine, before the next museum. This was a REALLY non-interesting museum about vikings and ancient times. I spent most of the time in the museum-shop. I ended up buying some Celtic tattoos, a museum coin and a necklace.
We walked some more, and then we found a pub. *FINALLY*

I drank Bulmers Berry Cider *yummy* and ate Ferrero Rocher cheesecake *even more yummy* at The Porterhouse. My mom had a local brew, my father had a lager of some kind and my sister had a Guinness/some other stout.
We drank some more, and my "wear-and-tear wound" hurt like hell. 

We got out of the pub, and found the "sightseeing" bus, and we drove around in this for 1.5 hour, and our bus driver was singing. And he sung "Molly Malone" when we drove by the statue of her.

Then we got away from mom and dads hawk's eye, and went for a wee bit of shopping.
Of course we manage to loose the last bus home, so we had to walk.
We got to the hostel, and Synneve made "dinner" (it was actually breakfast).
Then we went to bed...