My kind of town....Dublin is

It certainly wasn't the fact that our pilot aborted two of our landings in Dublin just moment before touchdown. We were diverted to Shannon and then Belfast, in essence giving us the "tour of the emerald isle". Nine hours later, my one hour flight was finally over. And it wasn't for the fact that the Temple Bar area of the city started their Saturday night party without me. It was Mardi Gras fused with St. Patrick's day fused with down Royal Oak. Then throw in the 6 Nation Rugby Tournament. (The French upset the English...sniff, sniff.) I couldn't get close to a bar rail, unlike Ludlow, so I went back to the hotel and retired. But I saw what I came for, a pulsing, pounding sea of humanity joyously celebrating friendships, good times, camaraderie, and every other reason to jam a century old, hardwood paneled, brass accented drinking establishment. But that's not the real reason I love Dublin. That came on the bus this morning, on the way to the airport. Sitting in front of me was a young couple, wound around each other like an old semi tire tied in a knot on the shoulder of the highway, kissing each other. A Wesley and Buttercup kind of kiss. A true love kind of kiss. If a city can nurture and grow true love, how can this not be the best place on the planet?