Pre New Year Site Seeing/Rocky Road to Dublin

Finally we had more than 2 consecutive hours of sunshine on Saturday before the galeforce winds brought the storms in. I had to work early, but was done pretty quick, and downtown already, so a little site-seeing was in order. Did a daylight walk around St Paul's where I went Xmas Eve, and took some great pictures that in a couple days I can post because, yeah, you guessed it, my stuff is finally getting delivered. Also, got some great shots of the Temple Bar Gate, which is the only, and oldest surviving original gate for the City of London. Back in the 1800's they took it down stone by stone to clear traffic congestion, and some rich guy reassembled it at his estate for a while. Eventually, it made itself back to the original site. It separates St Paul's Barbican and the London Stock Exchange Plaza. Lots of pictures. Best part though, was finding the Blackfriars Pub. It was built a couple hundred years ago on the site of a Monastery dating from the 13th century (hence the name). Found my new favorite bitter, London Pride, and they serve the wickedest pies ever. About ten different types, huge, and a great deal cause you get a pint with the meal. Only thing is, I don't get why the Brit insist on serving Brussel Sprouts with every meal? No wonder they're such gloomy and depressing people. Did I mention the leather, high-back chairs that you get to sit in? Yeah, Gord, Brad, lads, this is a slice of heaven, King for a Day.
Now, the night before was a bit of British culture too. A different sort. Went down to the Spotted Dog to watch a replay of the Ireland-Australia rugby match from November. Place was packed, I live in a neighbourhood with a lot of Irish. Now the Brits, in their understated, semi-pompous manner would call my neighbourhood "edgy". I would call it tough. It's no West Vancouver that's for sure. So, we're all watching the match, and we all know who's going to win. (Ireland 21-16). I'm there at the bar, and I'm wearing my Irish Rugby jersey(from my Favorite Girl!!)...minding my own business...well there was also a sizable contingent of Aussies pounding Fosters and being "enthusiastic." I'll let the verse from The Rocky Road to Dublin finish the story:

"The boys in Liverpool, when we safely landed called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it, blood began to boil, temper I was losing poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing hooray me soul says I, let the shellaillagh fly some Galway boys were nigh, saw I was a-hobblin' with a loud arragh, they joined me in the fray and soon we cleared the way on the rocky road to Dublin"
Faugh-a-ballagh indeed.
And that's a true London story, and I've got the scars to prove it ;)