Riding from Dublin Airport to the Maldron Hotel at Parnell Square - 35 Euros! Yikes. But thank goodness Sean brought his guitar.
Left: This is our "tour guide" John. Good ol' Chappy hooked us up with him, and guess what? He hates us. Well, maybe "hate" isn't the right word, but when Sean enthusiastically informed John that his family came from Ireland, John backhandedly (we think) replied, "40 million Americans claim Irish descent." Hmmph.
Right: Rachel leading the way on our walk down O'Connell (?) Street to Little Ceasar's.
Yeah. Look at these fookin' tourists, like. (I'm learning the local slang)
Justine! Don't forget your bus passes, kids.
This here's the legendary Molly Malone. A little tall (and metallic) for my taste.
Enjoying my first pint (of Guinness-flavored root beer, of course) with Portia and Sean at The (famous) Oliver St. John Gogarty pub. 
Dublin street bands are "in," especially those playing Beatles cover songs (seriously, every band we passed played at least one Beatles song).
... and apparently, female mullets are also "in." Allie, I know you were looking to get a popular Irish haircut, so I hope you don't take this too hard (side note: I have no idea how to get the underline off this text, my B).
Portia and Sean outside of Temple Bar, where an Irish singer/songwriter treated us to covers of the Beatles' "Don't Let Me Down" and Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." I'm not sure why artist don't play their own music around here, but the crowds go ballistic for these classics...
Fin.
See ya'll soon.
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