First Night
What I should have done was sleep off my travel exhaustion, but instead I laid down on my hotel bed for about 20 minutes, got up, brushed my hair and met up with my group for a literary pub crawl.
We apparently crawled to some places that U2 had visited, but after my third or fourth Jameson and Coke, I couldn’t have told you where I’d been if my life depended on it.
I do remember David, a fun guy in my group, having an incredible amount of energy that night that I truly envied, but other than that, the details of the crawl are fuzzy.
We all retreated back to our hotel in Ballsbridge for a late dinner and I remember getting funny looks for ordering a huge bowl of french fries—and nothing else. I was craving Irish potatoes and that was honestly all I wanted.
After the uncomfortable glances wore off, we all bonded talking about how awful we all felt Bono’s film Million Dollar Hotel turned out.
Then it was off to bed for more pre-concert adventures the next day.