Tourists

My research project finally reached the stage where it could go no further until I acquired my primary sources, so after I decided on who I wanted to interview and actual questions to ask them, I headed into city center armed with my notebook and pencil to seek out tourists and tourism workers.

My project is about the tourism industry and its effect on the Irish economy, specifically in the years since the beginning of the Celtic Tiger. My plan was to interview two people who worked in different areas of the industry, an American tourist, a non-American tourist, and a native Dubliner.

Unsurprisingly, the tourists were pretty easy to find.

My luck with the interviews actually started out pretty well. I managed to interview a bus driver and tour guide who works for one of the hop-on hop-off bus companies in Dublin, as well as a woman who works at one of the info desks at the Tourist Information Centre. After my second interview I decided to hang outside of the Tourist Information Centre in hopes of catching a few tourists who wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.

After a few people politely declined to answer questions, I approached a clearly American woman who was waiting around the Tourist Centre. She wasn’t looking at a map, taking pictures, or waiting for a bus, so I politely introduced myself and got as far as, “Excuse me, would–” before being cut off by an all out hissy fit complete with screaming accusations that actually caused people to stop and stare. I was pretty shocked so I didn’t catch everything the woman said, but from what I can gather she seemed to think I was asking her for money. I attempted to explain I was asking qustions for a class project which was met with the proclamation that “you people just need to leave me alone!” She ended up storming away, presumably to find her horde of flying monkeys, and I was left a bit shell-shocked on the steps of the Tourist Centre. Almost as soon as she left, a sweet elderly woman hurried up to me saying, “I just saw what happened. I’ll answer any question you want!”

Angels exist. They do.

My two remaining interviews went off without a hitch, and I made my way home, where I was met with about 70 men, women, and children dressed like Where’s Waldo running down Nassau Street with signs recruiting more members in an attempt to break a Guinness World Record. At least I hope that’s what was for. No one else seemed even the least bit phased by the event, so I’m not quite sure what to make of the whole thing.

What's important is that I found him.

I need to get going and get ready though, I’ve got a hot date tonight!

 

April Fool’s. I’m getting Borza’s  for dinner.

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