I never thought I’d say that I love crowds, but being crammed in Dublin with 750,000 foreigners plus locals today was one of my favorite memories thus far. I have never been in crowds like the ones I was in today. Let me paint the picture for you: there is a parade going on, so there are people lining the streets. The sidewalks aren’t made for viewers plus pedestrian traffic. There are people in green (tourists and Irish teens) and black (locals, typically dragging along children with green, white, and orange striped faces). The crowd of people is so thick you literally cannot move. There is no turning back. Once you go into that crowd, you are not able to escape until you make it to the other side. People are pushing from all sides. You are up close and personal with people. You’re trying not to be pushy and trying not to crush the children and nice elderly women that had decided to brave the crowd as well.

So how could I possibly find this fun? I really do hate crowds--I will be the first person to say that--but today gave me a new appreciation for being in a crowd of people. First of all, it was an experience. Mary, Alix, Jordan, and I agreed that being in the crowd was exactly what we expected from our day in Dublin, and it was better and more fun than we had anticipated. Second, being in a crowd of people who are there by choice is much different than the usual type of crowd. Everyone is friendly (yeah, surprising, I know) unless they’re having a panic attack or worried about their children. Mary, Alix, Jordan, and I formed a chain to stay together in the flow (not a steady flow) of bodies. A walk that usually takes about a minute took us at least an hour. Third, we had no plan, so we were in no hurry, so we were there solely for the experience.

^ The picture does not do the crowd justice. ^

^ It was hard to get a picture of us because we were so close together. ^

We made it to the first side street in Temple Bar, and finally had a bit of fresh air. There were less people (a lot less people) on every other street. We went back over the river and stopped at H&M to kill time. (At this point we were planning on being downtown until the concert at 7:30.) We wandered around for a while, but we finally decided to go back to Greystones.

So we took the Dart back to Greystones. By the time we got to the house, we only had an hour—just enough time for a power nap. We caught the 6:30 Dart back to Dublin after getting drinks at SuperValu. We made it to the National Concert Hall without a problem. (This came as a surpise to us because we only had a general idea of how to get there.)

The concert was traditional Irish music by Sean Keane and his band. It was really good. There was even a little bit of Irish dancing for a couple songs. The best were the reels they played right before intermission.

At intermission, we learned that the show was going to go on for at least another hour and a half, which would mean we would miss the last Dart back to Greystones. Many of us decided to leave. Mary, Alix, Jordan, Elisa, and I headed to the McDonald’s on Grafton Street for Shamrock Shakes then went to the Dart station to make the 10:03 train back to Greystones.