We had been planning this trip to Dublin for months; three to be exact. It started in February, when The Husband being some kind of rugby savant, looked at how the Heineken Cup matches were playing out and predicted that either ASM Clermont (his beloved team), RCT Toulon (the team Mr. London plays for), or both would be in the finals on May 18th in Dublin. We booked our tickets and waited. Worst case scenario, The Husband's predictions would be wrong but we'd still have a week in Dublin holidaying and visiting family, best case scenario, he'd be right and we would be in for one wild ride.
He was double right. It was Clermont vs. Toulon for the title of European Champions. (I've since asked The Husband if he could somehow project his rugby savant insights into other more pertinent areas of our lives... he simply stared at me like I had an extra head growing out of my neck.)
Our wild ride started with a trip to Toulon. Mrs. London was flying over with us and needed a lift to the airport... the perfect excuse for The Husband and Mr. London to get in some quality time before the big match.
Their quality time included eating 21oz burgers and topping it off with the 'free if you finish' milkshakes (they finished the milkshakes too) and then rolling around later saying that they didn't feel good. Well that's what happens when you eat half a cow.
The next morning they played cards at 6AM before leaving for the airport. Seeing your husbands sit on their derrieres playing cards while you run around doing all of the last bits is rather infuriating I can assure you. And who wakes up and starts playing cards anyway? That's just weird. Luckily, our 9:15AM flight from Marseille cut the card playing short (Mr. London's flight with the team was leaving from Toulon later that morning).
Dublin Airport was decked out in blue, white and red to welcome the French (there were three French rugby teams descending on Dublin that weekend... Stade Français [Paris] was playing Leinster [Dublin] on Friday in the Amlin Cup Final before the Toulon/ Clermont clash on Saturday). I'm not gonna lie, it was weird to hear so much French being spoken in Dublin. It confused me.
At least my Auntie's house is a French-free zone so I was able to give my wee brain and rest and settle in. I tried to settle in anyway... I got in trouble for not unpacking The Husband's suitcase. SERIOUSLY. It's like 1950 in that house. The Husband thought it was funny until he saw that my Auntie wasn't joking. FYI: his suitcase never did get unpacked. Oh well, nothing that an episode of Eastenders and a few pints in the local with Mrs. London and Claire wouldn't cure (I like to think of Claire as my big sister, but she's not, but she's so awesome, I wish she was). And after Auntie's big Irish fry-up Friday morning, I was ready to get my Dublin on.