Sunday, November 6, 2011

Dirty Old Town.

For starters give this a listen. A cover of the classic by some American folk. Aww yeah!

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Dirty Old Town by Great Red North


It takes only a half hour to cross the grey and windy sea in a little plane that shakes and rattles and land safe and sound on the Emerald Isle. A born and raised Dubliner cabbied us from the airport to Elise's sumptuous flat, where we slept on beds made of clouds. Saturday after a breakfast of crumpets, jam and tea we visited the national museum and saw an incredible exhibit of Celtic High Crosses. They were very tall and very old. We headed to city centre, crossed the river Liffey, and took a peek at Trinity College. There we saw the book of Kells, which was wondrous and spooky. We also saw the old college library built in 1712, immaculately preserved and stacked floor to ceiling with old books that smelled delightfully musty. Then we strolled St. Stephen's Green, looking at the ducks, and redheads. On the way to Whitefriar's church we stopped in a bookshop called Hodges Figgis where I purchased a wee book of W.B. Yeats poems. At Whitefriar's we saw St. Valentine's remains after which we headed out for a dinner of fish and chips (in my case chips and curry) in Temple Bar.


Downtown Dubbly. 


Trinity grounds. 


Bicycles and branches on campus. 


The perfect Ireland photo. It was also an accident. 


Elise and Eden by the duckpond in St. Stephen's Green. 


Swanlings. 


All the birds. 


Fountain time. 


Me and ole' James. 


They don't mess around in Ireland. 


Nighttime in Temple Bar. 



Night lights on the Liffey. It was really beautiful. 


We three. Elise, Eden and I. 

Sunday we walked past the Guinness factory and breakfasted at Queen of Tarts where we had some tasty Bailey's cheesecake. Then we took the train to the village of Howth, on the way passing some local kids burning office furniture in a park. It was well gritty. Howth was beautiful and bleak. We saw the Sunday market, ships, the seaside and even a selkie before a downpour forced us from the quays. We sought shelter and dinner and ended up eating bangers and mash while we watched the rain. Back in Dublin we headed to a pub, where we had a chat while eaves dropping on the fellow next to me who asked the person on the other end of the phone that "the staff have dinner ready at 8." and also " is her ladyship is coming?". All the while this was happening some old guys at the bar, arms round each others shoulders, sang sad folk songs including a prettily slurred rendition of Dirty Old Town.


View of rolling hills from Elise's penthouse. 


A very candid shot of me and my cheesecake. 


One of many incredible cathedrals. 


Ruins of a cathedral by the sea in Howth. 


A sign in Gaelic. 


Elise and I looking windswept. 


The seaside. This doesn't nearly do it justice. 


So many boats. 


Down by the Quays. 


Another boat. 

Monday we saw Kilmainhom Gaol, which housed many of the leaders of the Irish rebellions, and even saw some of them executed. It was an interesting and sobering experience. Then we watched a bit of a marathon that was happening, and took a drenching walk downtown where we devoured some savory crepes before catching the bus back to the airport.


Run run run. 


Scary snakes above the gaol door. 


The flag in the gaol-yard where the executions took place. 

"Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon/ A druid land, a druid tune!" -W.B. Yeats from To Ireland in the Coming Times. 


Morgan family Christmastime standard. "If there's a drink the the house would it make itself known?" The Chieftains have got so much win. 


The Pogues. Shane Macgowan is a beaut no matter what anyone says. I can't even pick my favorite song this one was just highly applicable. 


Put A Penny In The Slot - Fionn Regan by shuhei

Fionn Regan singing this pretty tune. Makes me wanna cry. Three cheers for Dubin Town!


1 comment:

  1. What an awesome place! I'm so jealous of all the cool things you are doing! Great post. You should be a travel writer :)

    ReplyDelete