Ireland, food and unhappy contemplations
Mar. 3rd, 2006 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_rose99Ireland. I love it. I hate it. Bleh.
I know. Whine. Complain. Poor me. I HAVE to travel. You just want to kill me, right?
Ok, I admit that today was beautiful. And the view out my hotel window is lovely. The river, with the city lights reflected... Very nice.
But... Ok, you know I'm anti-social, right? No human interaction unless I HAVE to. It is really why I'd rather rent a car and deal with the frustration of driving on the left with a stick shift in a strange country rather than interact with the drivers of taxis. I've eaten at the hotel restaurant exactly twice this trip. Once on Sunday afternoon, just after I got off the plane, and once tonight (Friday night). All other nights, I ordered room service, which only has a single (salad. Again. Gee. Thanks. You shouldn't have. Really.) menu item I can eat, if I ate at all. I won't tell you about how the meal on Sunday made me horribly, vilely, disgustingly, painfully sick. Consider this lack of information my personal gift to you. If a brain scrub were possible, trust me, I'd sign up to get rid of this memory. Anyway. Tonight. Dinner. I made a reservation in this stupid hotel restaurant. *sigh* It has serious pretensions. So I go in and they seat me. By the door. Which would be fine, if every time they opened the door, they didn't let in freezing air. It is about 34 degrees outside (according to an online website I just checked). Not kidding about the freezing. And they have "mood lighting". Which means that instead of reading my Palm Pilot comfortably, it is the exact lighting that is too light to backlight my Palm to read comfortably, and too dark to read it without backlight. So I am twisting sideways in the unmovable (but fashionable!) chair to get the most light. Now I'm cold, hungry, my back hurts, and I'm STILL waiting for the damn meal! This lasted for an excruciating 1.5 hours. I probably spent 20 minutes of it actually eating, tops.
And I would say nasty things about this hotel... but I think it is Ireland in general. This is actually pretty typical treatment for eating alone in an Irish restaurant.
I'm going to turn back on my DVD, pack, and contemplate returning home tomorrow. Hard.
There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no...
I know. Whine. Complain. Poor me. I HAVE to travel. You just want to kill me, right?
Ok, I admit that today was beautiful. And the view out my hotel window is lovely. The river, with the city lights reflected... Very nice.
But... Ok, you know I'm anti-social, right? No human interaction unless I HAVE to. It is really why I'd rather rent a car and deal with the frustration of driving on the left with a stick shift in a strange country rather than interact with the drivers of taxis. I've eaten at the hotel restaurant exactly twice this trip. Once on Sunday afternoon, just after I got off the plane, and once tonight (Friday night). All other nights, I ordered room service, which only has a single (salad. Again. Gee. Thanks. You shouldn't have. Really.) menu item I can eat, if I ate at all. I won't tell you about how the meal on Sunday made me horribly, vilely, disgustingly, painfully sick. Consider this lack of information my personal gift to you. If a brain scrub were possible, trust me, I'd sign up to get rid of this memory. Anyway. Tonight. Dinner. I made a reservation in this stupid hotel restaurant. *sigh* It has serious pretensions. So I go in and they seat me. By the door. Which would be fine, if every time they opened the door, they didn't let in freezing air. It is about 34 degrees outside (according to an online website I just checked). Not kidding about the freezing. And they have "mood lighting". Which means that instead of reading my Palm Pilot comfortably, it is the exact lighting that is too light to backlight my Palm to read comfortably, and too dark to read it without backlight. So I am twisting sideways in the unmovable (but fashionable!) chair to get the most light. Now I'm cold, hungry, my back hurts, and I'm STILL waiting for the damn meal! This lasted for an excruciating 1.5 hours. I probably spent 20 minutes of it actually eating, tops.
And I would say nasty things about this hotel... but I think it is Ireland in general. This is actually pretty typical treatment for eating alone in an Irish restaurant.
I'm going to turn back on my DVD, pack, and contemplate returning home tomorrow. Hard.
There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no...
