All I wanted to do was drink and sing.

So we drank and sang.

Dark beer and light rain. Chilly grey days led us to warm crowded pubs lit by dim yellow lamps, and full of older women explaining to me that the toilets don't flush -- and they havent flushed in eighteen years: Irish plumbing.

Stepping outside to polish off our pints and pay attention to the uneven streets of Temple Bar, recalling the portraits that followed us with their eyes. Watching the crowd.

Cheers. Nighttime commotion and daytime calm, touring castles and cathedrals from the outside because we didn't have a lot of time — we didn't have a lot of time until this ended.

Sitting on the floor of our hostel, holding Kinder egg bunnies and wine, trying not to think about goodbye. We wouldn't be going back to our cozy little zoo in the District again.

So we drank and sang.