The Guinness Storehouse

My 23 year old couldn't stop beaming: he was finally standing inside the mecca, as far as he's concerned, of beer. His girlfriend was in complete agreement. My husband was in complete agreement. B found the place a hoot, with its interactive displays, advertisements and speaking mirrors. I settled for taking pictures and passing off my free glass of Guinness to the highest bidder. Okay, okay, so I gave it to the 23 year old. After enjoying the paraphernalia in the store, we headed out to the Temple Bar area to see the sights and maybe get some Irish grub. This picturesque, cobblestoned area certainly offered us a lot of choices - but no hot dogs for B. He had to settle for his umpteenth dish of plain pasta, poor kid. We turned in early, given that the next day would see the start of our whirlwind tour of Ireland's west coast...