My friend Sabrina and I decided to book our trip to Dublin in November of last year. Four of our friends had already booked two months prior and obtained a private four-person room in a hostel. By the time Sabrina and I booked, however, there were either no hostels available for Saturday night (March 17) or they were available for an exorbitant price. Because I have a blog devoted to adventure (and because I'm cheap), Sabrina and I decided not to book a room for that night and have the "adventure" of being homeless in Dublin. Sounds like a great plan, right?
Well, as our trip got closer, the plan began to seem less and less great. Because, the truth, dear reader, is that despite my love of adventure, I don't love putting my life at risk. It's is a fine line! The more I thought about it, the more nervous I got. In order to combat my anxiety, I made extensive plans regarding where we could spend our evening (i.e. clubs, all-night diners, Wal-marts?), and I packed in such a way that I could travel around the city all night, unencumbered by my luggage. Despite these precautions, on March 16, the Friday of our departure, I suddenly realized that being murdered in Dublin might be a very real possibility if I didn't find a place to sleep. And on a simply pragmatic level, it occurred to me that staying up all night on St. Patrick's Day would not be conducive to productive site-seeing on Sunday.
And so it was that I begged Sabrina to let me book us a room. Being a good friend, she authorized me to book whatever I could find, regardless of the price, so I bit the bullet and found a hostel with two beds at £60 per person for the night. I pulled out my credit card and was keying in my card number when... my phone rang! I halted my typing because my caller ID showed the name of one of my friends who was already in Dublin. What could this be? I thought. Here is the conversation that followed:
Friend: Hey, how would you like a place to sleep tomorrow night?
Me: Uhhhh, I would LOVE a place to sleep tomorrow night! Whatcha got?
Friend: So, it turns out, the private 4-person room we booked is actually a 6-person room. Thanks to a mix-up at the hostel, those 2 extra beds aren't booked for tomorrow night, and the hostel said you guys can have them for £25 each.
Me: AHHHHH!!! (drops phone, passes out from joy)
Ok, that last bit might have happened internally, but I'm sure you can imagine. I was overjoyed and immediately took him up on the offer. So we got to Dublin and had a great stay in a lovely hostel.
But that's not quite the whole story. The morning of the 17th, I went to check with the front desk to make sure there was no problem with us moving into the room and to check in. The woman working at the desk said it was fine and that we could go ahead and move our stuff in (since the other people in there were our friends) but that we couldn't technically check in until after 2. Then she thought for a moment, turned to her co-worker, explained to him the situation, and then said, "Do they have to pay?" The man paused, thought, and said, "Nah, it's Paddy's Day!"
It was a St. Patrick's Day miracle! So there you go, dear reader. If you don't plan ahead by booking a hostel for St. Patrick's Day in Dublin, everything will work out and you'll get a free room. On second thought, that may not be the lesson to take away from this. Let's just say the lesson is stick with me because I'm super lucky. Ooh! Maybe it's... the Luck of the Hapless American. That's a thing, right?