As we sat on the back deck of the beach hostel soaking up the last little bit of sun there was to be had yesterday afternoon, I was informed by a new friend Sean (from the Republic) that his beer had disappeared from the common fridge (he hadn't labelled it wiht his name) and he was distraught until someone on staff said he had taken it, and to Sean's delight, he brought it back.... So Sean told me this, with his slight brogue...
"That's the worst thing you can do to an Irishman... take his beer... That's his breakfast!"
Me and Anne Frank
Day 1: Amsterdam
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1 comment:
Hi. Your grandma just let us know about your trip. I like how you have set up the blog and are including stories. We're going to keep up with your travels. Thanks.
Rick
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