It took us a while to get to Guinness. For some reason, busses were few and far between so we just kept walking towards the place with the hope that we'll run into a bus going in that direction sometime. 1 hour later we had succeeded in walking the near 3 miles from our hotel to the Storehouse.
When you purchase the 14 euro admission ticket, you receive a map of the factory and a special ticket which looks large plastic round, clear "dewdrop" with the Guinness brand embossed onto it and a little bit of "the black gold" rolling around inside. Attached to it is a plastic tab. The salesperson said that this plastic tab can be exchanged at the 360 view bar at the top of the Storehouse for either a free soda or a free pint of Guinness. Who orders a soda at the Storehouse? I thought to myself. Cuz, geez, FREE PINT, bitches! The salesperson explained further that once you trade in the plastic tab, the plastic half is now your official souvenir. Cool.
Anyway, I can understand why many people consider the Guinness Storehouse a total ripoff, but then again, I can also understand why Guinness is one of the most popular attractions in Dublin. See, if you're not a beer enthusiast - better yet, not a Guinness enthusiast, you would consider the 14 euro admission a complete waste of money, even with the free pint at the end. The Storehouse has several levels, with each level focusing on a certain part of the beer manufacturing process, or Guinness's history, both culturally and socially. In my opinion (as a Guinness lover), I thought the place was worthwhile. All of the exhibits were smartly designed with the visitor having some hands-on interaction in witnessing the Guinness-making process. It was all very interesting and very fun.
We finally made it to the top bar, and it had the best view of the city.
Dozens of people were in there, and I noticed that almost all of them were trading their tabs for pints. We did the same. I went to find a seat and noticed something offensive and sacreligious going on around us: People were leaving half full to completely full pints of Guinness behind. What the F*CK?!! I thought. JD eventually arrived with our pints and I pointed this out. Completely unbelievable, we both agreed. We even pointed it out to a server who was making his rounds clearing glasses from the tables. "Tis a bit shameful, in'it?" he said. Umm, YEAH, we replied. I mean, not to gross you out, and not that I would ever do this, but I was almost tempted to take these untouched Guinness pints and drink them myself. I mean, c'mon. Free Guinness, - the king of beers - and you're not going to even finish it? If you don't even like beer, order a soda for chrissakes and save us the black gold.
Anyway, before I took a good long sip of my beer, I thought - for a millisecond - that maybe I shouldn't be drinking this because of my recent IBS bouts. To hell with it, I thought almost as quickly, and guzzled my oh so satisfying bread soda... down the hatch. Here's some piccies of the calm before the storm:
Bad idea. By 30 minutes I was experiencing the worst bouts of stomach pain I've ever experienced. It was difficult getting myself to the gift store to buy souvenirs for my sister, her boyfriend and my coworkers. By the time 20 more minutes passed, I was barely able to stand. I had to sit and wait while JD called a cab for us.
We got back to the hotel in a few minutes and it was straight to bed with me. I mean, no joke, I was in so much pain that I was almost going to ask JD to take me to a hospital. I was sweating and rocking back and forth in a fetal position in bed. I even tried to induce vomiting, thinking that would help. No dice. I tried eating some granola bars to "soak up" the alcohol. Nope. I started breathing very quickly and very hard. Luckily, after 3-4 hours, the pain had subsided enough that I was able to go to sleep. IBS sucks. Gotta be more careful next time.
