We have a luxurious breakfast at the hotel, a European buffet
with an Irish brogue. Gives us a chance
to try the black and white puddings, which we in the central Atlantic states
would compare to a firm scrapple. We walk
the few minutes to Trinity College where we have a morning tour booked.
The weather today is fantastic, high 60s and bright blue
skys, and yesterday was very similar. Before
we left the States, we were cautioned that it’s boorish to talk about the weather
with the Irish, as the assumption is always rain and you knew that before you
got here and don’t be such a beeatch about it.
Apparently, that axiom doesn’t hold true during unexpectedly beautiful
spring days as every local we run into leads with “wow, you brought sunshine
with you”. As we soak up the warm light
on a bench along the campus rugby pitch, we’re starting to expect they just
make up stories about rain to keep the ‘Mericans away.
Trinity college was established in 1592 and remains one of
the elite institutions of higher learning in Europe. Our tour guide tells us the story of how the
college is steeped in history and tradition, and how that is a double-edged
sword. The buildings from the 1700s are gorgeous,
but barely functional as modern academic facilities or dorms. The location in central Dublin is fantastic,
but landlocks the campus making growth and expansion tremendously difficult. The tour culminates at the Old Library, the country’s
“copyright depository”, where publishers in Ireland must deposit a first
edition of every book they produce. The main
chamber of the Old Library is the Long Room, measuring over 200’ in length with
shelves all the way to the soaring barrel ceiling. It’s one of the most photographed spaces in
Ireland, and the busts at the end of each row make it even more
photogenic. Despite the Long Room’s
impressive stature, it’s only the second biggest draw in the building. First is The Book Of Kells, the most famous medieval
illuminated manuscript containing the four Gospels of the New Testament. It’s a national treasure, the publishing equivalent
to the Mona Lisa.
Leaving campus we head to St. Stephen’s Green, a Victorian era
park near the city center. Locals on
lunch break, groups of school kids and tourists alight on the park to soak in
the delightful spring sunshine. With the
tulips in riotous bloom at every turn, it’s reminiscent of the city parks in
Amsterdam this same time of year. The flowers
and the birds and the people and the vibe is a celebration of the passing of
winter and the awakening of the new.
Having our fill of the park, it’s time for a more substantial
fill. We hike it back up Grafton to
Christchurch for some of Leo Burdock’s famous fish and chips. It’s a tiny little takeaway joint who puts
oversized battered cod on a fat bed of crispy steak fries and wraps the entire ensemble
in white deli paper. 12 euros and we’re
out the door looking for the proper venue to enjoy our booty. Fortunately, Christ Church Cathedral, the
namesake of this part of town, is just around the corner and, in the spirit
true spirit of Christian generosity, offers a big-ass picnic table near the
fence. We unwrap and dig in. Halfway through, an older British woman
walking on the sidewalk just outside the fence spots our lunch, stops in her tracks,
and asks where we got it. Yup, an American
giving a fish and chips recommendation to a Brit. Ireland rocks.
Satiated, we walk through the Temple Bar section of town and
its myriad of pubs and clubs. Music flows
out of the colorful, flag laden bars like the spilling of flowers from their
planter boxes. Even in the early
afternoon there’s an energy about the place, an anticipation of the night to
come.
Still trying to walk off lunch, continue our walk along the River
Liffey to get photos of some of the architecture the city has to offer. Our winner for traditional architecture is
the neoclassical 18th century Dublin Custom House. The award in the modern category goes to Irish
architect Kevin Roche’s Convention Center Dublin.
Heading back to home base, we spend a few minutes in Merrion
Square, another lively inner city park.
Perhaps the best known feature of the park is the Oscar Wilde statue. As mere marble could not capture the flamboyance
of the famous the Irish poet and playwright, the statue is made of colored
stone from three different continents. The
torso is green neophyte jade from British Columbia and pink thulite from
Norway. The legs are made from Norwegian
blue pearl granite and the shoes of black Indian charnockite.
Finally back at the hotel, we rest up for tonight’s festivities. We meet an Irish friend that we’ll call
Allison (because that’s her real name) in the lobby of the “Shelly” (Ally speak
for the Shelbourne, her favorite haunt in Dublin). She is more then excited to take us to Johnny
Fox’s, one of her favorite pubs. It’s
about a 30 minute drive, first weaving our way out of Dublin traffic then winding
up the tight Irish mountain lanes to the country’s “Highest Pub”. An explosion of vintage Irish kitsch, we take
15 minutes to make it to the front door, checking out all the carefully/randomly
placed artifacts. As a dedicated car
guy, my favorite is the bit of Celtic automotive humor.
We have a drink in the bar beside the fireplace before being seated for dinner. It's Hooley Night, an interactive show with a great traditional band and a skilled troop of Irish dancers. Allison sings along with every tune, and the band cues the rest of us amateurs on how to sing and clap along with the choruses. Somehow Mandy gets singled out to dance on stage and, for having never Irish danced before, pretty well kills it. We’re really going to have to 43andMe her when we get back home.
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