At the Harp

After our tour, we were getting pretty hungry, so we decided to get something for dinner. Aubrey had recommended a place called Shenanigans, and, after getting no satisfactory suggestions (McDonalds? Really?) from our hapless hostel receptionist, we decided to give it a shot. It was a great decision. Shenanigans is a pub that happens to serve food as well so the menu was quite small, but we were all able to find a suitable dish. I had Bangers and Mash which was nothing short of wonderful. I think it's one of the best meals I've had in Ireland thus far, which, now that I think about it, is not saying much. The Irish are not known for their cooking. (I suppose this is unfair. The chips [fries] are always good. Seafood chowder is always a good bet. I can take or leave the burgers and most other meats and, surprisingly, the mashed potatoes never taste good to me.)

It was still early in the night but we were getting tired and still wanted to get a taste of Sligo's nightlife. We headed to the Harp Tavern in the hopes of hearing some live music.

It was only 8:30 when we arrived at The Harp, which is extremely early for going out in Ireland. Usually we don't even leave our apartment until 9:45 or 10:00. But, we were determine to have a pint in Sligo before bed, which was hopefully in our near future. The bar was almost totally empty except for a few amusing old men who engaged us in conversation for over two hours. The music was not due to begin until 10:30, so we sat around sipping our pints and shooting the breeze with all these old Irish locals who are friends by virtue of frequenting the same pub. They were all on first name terms with the bartenders who knew them as well. It was a very charming Irish experience. When the music finally did start it was subpar and we left, seeking thrills that could only be found between the cleanish sheets on a mattress that was comfortable enough (though best not to look at it too closely, no telling what those stains are) in White House Hostel.

We woke up on Sunday and departed the hostel (which did not serve breakfast...darn them) in search of breakfast. We searched in vain. Apparently, Sligo does not open anything until 12:00 on Sunday mornings. We peered in bakeries, restaurants, and cafes, hoping that something, anything, would be open. We succumbed to hunger and walked to McDonalds, knowing we could count on that to be open and found it closed. I have never known a McDonalds to be closed for breakfast hour in my life.

Instead of breakfast, we decided to tour the city to look for fun things to do that could not possibly be closed, like the Famine Memorial.

We found the memorial and took many photos but this was about all we could do. We walked slowly to the bus station with literally hours to spend and nowhere to spend them. Laura and I stumbled on a hot breakfast in a Spar (like 7-11) where we had gone in search of granola bars for nourishment. We enjoyed our potato wedges immensely while sitting in the bus station and watching the rain turn itself on and off every few minutes.

As it turns out, one day is the perfect amount of time for Sligo. We saw what we went to see and did what we went to do and it was great.