Man, I was gettin a nice aul kipp in on Friday night when I was rudely disturbed from my slumber by some immediately indistinguishable hairy creature. In my sleepy state I thought "fuggin American werewolf in Dublin!!", but just before I unloaded a silver bullet I realised it was just Al. his purpose for wreckin me beauty sleep? An Iron Man contest he's entering at the end of summer (really), he had ran from his gaff in Bray, then upon his arrival at my plush suburban mansion, he strapped me to his back for some extra weight. I can see his logic, I do have lead in me hole that can be felt up me spine every time I roll off a cerb.
Eventually his jogging plods nursed me back to sleep, and it must have been 3 hours or so later when I awoke to the bizarre feeling of cold lapels of water on my back. Was this a dream? helluva cold sweat! No, I was in fact in the middle of the Irish sea, as Al had decided to press on and practice the swimming leg of his iron man trail. I questioned his actions- "Man, what the fuck?" which was met with "Ah ye-uh! Phil's luvin it!" My protest fell on deaf ears, so I buckled in for the journey.
I thought he'd done a sufficient grueling swim loop when we entered what I thought was Bray's infamous Dargle river- but no, this wasn't the Bray that I knew so well. This was somewhere different, a path never trodden by this Bray head. Big Ben? What the fwack? The Thames? Ah man! We started to get into a bit of trouble as Al was head-butting into manys the vessel in this busy water way, but luckily we were dragged to safety by Mr. Jensen (on the right with the toothy grin) who took us under his wing and fed us rasher sangbos, sorry, i mean bacon sarnies, tom sauce n' all! La-de-daah!
Fug it, we're here, best make the most of it. I felt like a zombie for pretty much the whole day due to my aforementioned rude awakening, so I tapped into my back up energy supple and proceeded to have my face manipulated into the guise of "stoke" as we were shown amazing spot after amazing spot, the bulk of which were fairly under the media radar. Below we have a hasty pic of the re-done stockwell park, not completely finished, but rad none the less. My legs only let me cruise and watch at this stage, but my head was fine with that.
I got the best possible first impression of the big smoke by being driven around congestion charge areas by Nick, I would have taken a joggy-back off Al, but the back seat was too comfy to pass up. Was real cool to see the city above ground, did very little tubing, and when we did Al opted for the kiddy ticket, I wouldn't argue with him either, chancer got through every time even when confronted!
This homeless dude at this spot gave us a history on the building the ledge was outside of. Apparently it was the oldest blues club in the world up until 20 years ago, that was until it shut down. Now its the newest spot in the newest copy of Sidewalk, if you don't believe me axe dat dude.
We were treated to wan of the finest spots I've ever layed my suils on in a place called Elepahnt & Castle. Par-fect manual pad, metal-edged ledges..
and these inside out planter things, radness!
Despite the plush looking spot, we were eventually confronted by a street urchen, 'kept asking us about the cameras and boards and stuff. We like this roughian though, so we decided to keep him. We named him Ciaran, he likes making videos too (http://www.ciaranoconnor.com/) and apparently his new wan , Saviour Faire, is a cracker! He also, judging by this photo, liketh the smack..ugh
I've to go for a driving lesson now and will finish this up later. Beep.