Lou and The Mummified Cat Church

On this day, we did some more exploring of Dublin with out New Friend Lou. We looked around the town and found some pretty awesome op shops, where we spent up large. We wanted to buy All The Things, but they sadly wouldn't have fitted in our already quite full (and heavy) packs. 

Lou and Bry, chillin' in our sweet dorm room, which we had all to ourselves. 

The Liffey, lookin' pretty.

Barbed wire to keep the monks in?

On the street, we met a Friendly Atheist fellow, who had cheerfully set up his Atheist Ireland stand just down the street from the (woefully misinformed about medical science) Uber Religious Anti-Abortion Protestors (seriously, they had a picture of like a two month old baby and were trying to tell people that's what you're aborting. Idiots.) who were doing a lot of shouting. The atheist man was very polite in comparison. We had a nice chat about politics and feminism and healthcare and things.

In contrast to the aforementioned monks, the atheists are left to roam free throughout the streets of Dublin. Or perhaps the barbed wire was to keep the atheists out...

Before we had arrived and befriended him, Lou had been on a free walking tour of Dublin and had been informed about the existence of a church with, in Lou's charming Strasbourgian parlance, a "myumyfied cat". After initially believing we had misunderstood, we were intrigued, to say the least, being fans of both specimen preservation techniques and critters of the feline variety. So off we trekked, not quite sure where we were going or what we would find when we got there.

Christ Church, which apparently is actually home to a Myoomeefied Cat. Who knew?

Lou knew. 

It turned out they charged a small fortune to go and see the Miumified Cat, so we decided not to look at it, content in the knowledge it actually existed. It's inside the pipes of the organ, where it got stuck chasing a mouse, which is also mioomafied inside. Legend has it, everyone just thought the organ was broken for years and years because it kept making a weird noise when you played a particular note. Turns out there was the cat in there. Yeah. It is also apparently the inspiration for Tom and Jerry. We are unsure as to whether we believe this, we always assumed it was plagiarised hideously from The Itchy and Scratchy Show. You learn something new every day.

A pretty stained glass window at The Meeyoomeefyed Cat Church.

We didn't go in to the church properly, we just loitered in the foyer. Ally took photos of the pretty windows and Bryony ate a banana.

Bry puts Ally on a pedestal.

Cute wee group photo after failing to see The Myooooomifiyed Cat.

We cannot remember what Lou had just said, but we assume it was very shocking (at least to Bryony's delicate sensibilities). 

Under the church, in the crypts, there was a market. We found it very odd. People were selling tacky tourist crap down there, right next to someone's grave.  

Capitalism knows no bounds. 

We had a wee explore around the Temple Bar District, and came across a Book Market. We love books. Lou got bored and wandered off to make friends with some local youths while we browsed.

We befriended one of the booksellers who was a really awesome big, bearded, ginger Irish guy who treated us to a free dramatic reading of 50 Shades of Grey. Possibly the only incarnation in which that "book" will ever be good. 

We then headed back to our Palace for dinner and Lou introduced us to what is possibly the best tv show of all time: RuPaul's Drag Race. Imagine Project Runway crossed with America's next Top Model, but with Drag Queens. Seriously, look it up. And start with season 4.

Om nom nom, says Bry's face. 

Serving dihydrogenmonoxide realness. 

We had some drinks and headed out to a Drag Show at the local Gay Bar. The swiss army knife given to Bry by her mother was put to its first and most important use - opening wine bottles. 

One of the stars.

Lou makes friends.

Dancing at Pantibar.

Dancing not nearly as well as the Drag Queens. 

On our way home, we met a very strange, well-dressed, drunk Swedish boy, who was astoundingly negative about everything and everyone in Ireland, and long-windedly informed us why were wrong to like being in Dublin. Upon being asked if he even liked anything at all in the world, he paused for a moment, thought, and said - in all seriousness - "IKEA".