Today was an interesting day. And by interesting, I mean that not a lot happened, but what did happen was pretty unexpected. These are the sorts of things that make travel (and stories about trips!) memorable.
The day began rather simply-- I had to get up entirely too early, especially given how late I had gone to sleep. I finished packing, got dressed, and Suzanne, Daniel and I started having breakfast. Then the fire alarm went off.
We raced outside, and found a few other bewildered residents trying to figure out what was going on-- eventually, we discovered that the mechanism is just rather temperamental, and decided to report that Flat 24 had a fire, which was not the case. Some nice person came and turned it off, and that was that. However, I still had to finish breakfast, and now I was going to be leaving later than I had anticipated.
Suzanne and I took the bus in the direction of the station I needed-- she got off to go to her office, and gave me directions for switching buses. I somehow screwed up (go figure), and wandered about for 5-10 minutes, looking very lost and dragging a suitcase behind me. I was displeased. I saw an empty taxi, and the New Yorker in me snapped into action-- I flagged him down, and directed him to take me to King's Cross, as quickly as humanely possible. We had a lovely chat about Scotland and Bath on the way there, but I was too busy looking at my watch to really get into it. He dropped me off, I ran into the station, and all the way down to the last platform (and then all the way to the furthest car, because of course, the quiet coach had to be at the front). I made it with a few minutes to spare. Crisis averted.
I was reading Emma for the beginning of the train ride to Edinburgh, until the man sitting next to me struck up a conversation. He was a young Arab man, a doctor in training who was living in Prague and working all over England, and an avid conversationalist. We wound up talking for two hours (until his stop)-- though I honestly could not tell you what we talked about. Everything and nothing. And it was a bit strange, I have to say. However, there is something fun about talking to strangers on trains-- you get to meet lots of interesting people that way. Also, I now know that if I'm ever in Dubai, there is a chocolate company (owned by his parents) that produces the most interesting chocolates using camel's milk, and that they are only available there-- no where else in the world. Cool, huh?
Once he left, I got back to reading for a bit, then fell asleep. I woke up for a minute to see the most gorgeous landscape ever-- rolling green hills dotted with sheep, with a clear blue ocean behind them, separated by huge rocky cliffs. ...and then I fell asleep again.
After arriving at the station, I set off in search of the hostel that I had booked a bed in. Now, I have never stayed in a hostel, and I was a bit wary about the whole thing, but decided that I should have a proper student's travel experience and try it out. I dragged my suitcase over cobblestones and hills and up narrow stairs, until I made it into the hostel. The super friendly receptionist handed me a key, and when I went back to my room, I opened the door to find a room about the size of a small single at Williams, filled with four bunk beds. And I was on a top bunk. And there were two showers for all of the girls in the hostel (which was a lot). This would not do.
I texted Liz and Dylan, the friends from my programme that I was meeting here in Edinburgh, and while waiting for a reply, decided to start wandering around the city. It didn't take long before I started wandering into hotels, asking if they had vacancies. Sure enough, a hotel from the chain that we stayed at in Dublin had rooms, and they weren't too expensive, so I ran back to the hostel, handed in my keys, negotiated a refund, grabbed my bags and left-- 45 minutes after checking in. I hope that I didn't insult them... but I have simply led too spoiled of an existence for me to deal with that sort of accommodation at this point. Oh well. So much for that.
I did a little more wandering around before meeting Liz and Dylan for dinner at the bar under their hostel. We had a long dinner-- just sitting around and talking-- and decided to head back to my hotel room once the live music came into the bar (and brought a horde of people with it). We were all quietly reading in my room when all of a sudden....
The fire alarm went off.
I was beginning to think that I was cursed. I grabbed my important belongs and we went downstairs in a calm, orderly fashion-- unlike the little boy who ran past me in nothing but his underwear while yelling (which was hysterical enough to make the inconvenience worthwhile). We waited outside while the firemen turned off the alarm-- nothing was wrong, of course, just another spastic system--and once we were allowed back in, Liz and Dylan headed back to their hostel, and I came back to write these posts. Oy. Vey.
So yeah-- interesting day. Didn't see much of Edinburgh; however, what I did see is really rather lovely-- it's a city with lots of character, lovely buildings, and kilts. Hopefully tomorrow will afford a better chance of exploring the city, without so many unexpected situations!
With love, my friends, from (a hotel room! in) Edinburgh-- goodnight!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
"Wandering Rocks"
(The title of Episode 10 of Ulysses. That's the last of the Joyce quotes-- I promise! )
Sorry for the delayed posting, my lovely readers. You'll understand why soon enough.
Yesterday was my last day in Dublin (*sniff*). After having breakfast at the same place as the morning before (it was a very good breakfast), Daniel and I set off on a two-hour long "History of Dublin Walking Tour". Our guide was a graduate of Trinity (with a PhD in History) who had been giving these tours on and off for years, and as he was somewhat of a fill-in, he had an odd sort of attitude towards the whole thing-- kind of cynical, kind of flippant--but it worked, in some strange way. We heard a lot of history-- mostly that which lead up to and included the various revolutions and the Troubles. I'm not going to repeat all of it; one, because I can't remember it all, and two, because you would never read my blog again if I did. Instead, I shall give you a broad summary:
1. Protestants= Anglicans= British sympathizers. The minority in what is now the Republic of Ireland, Protestants have always existed in smaller numbers, and have held disproportionate amounts of power. Up until the 1920s, only Protestants could sit in Parliament and attend Trinity College.
2. Catholics= Historically Oppressed Majority= Revolutionaries. (At least historically-- today, that's not so much the case.)
3. Protestants+ Catholics= Big Mess. Most people think of Irish history as being defined by its struggles with the British; rather, it is more often made up of struggles within itself.
Yes, its a very broad summary. But that's probably all you really cared to know anyway. The tour also included a few stops in historically relevant places:
After the tour, my feet felt like they were going to fall off, so we stopped for lunch in a pub that specialized in microbrewery beers. I took a break from drinking Guinness to try another local drink-- a wheat beer-- and while it was good, I think I might have preferred the Guinness. But that's ok.
From there we went to the National Library, which is a huge complex with lots of pretty classical architecture. But the cool part was inside-- an exhibit on Irish poet William Butler Yeats, which was absolutely wonderful (if I'm being honest with myself, it was a better exhibit than the Joyce Center's, but I think I'm too biased). Yeats was a pretty cool guy-- he was a prolific writer of poetry, and he also wrote a few plays; his greatest achievement (for Dublin, anyway) was the creation of the Abbey Theatre, which put on some of the more radical works of his time and helped to revolutionize the Irish understanding of the arts; and he even created his own religion, based on mysticism (primarily Jewish Kabbalah) and some peculiar pagan traditions. Oh, and he won the Nobel Prize for Literature. No big deal.
After the exhibit came a stop at the local milkshake bar, which was a hundred percent necessary despite the fact that it was cold and rainy by that point. Post-milkshake, we moved on to two photography exhibits: the National Library Photography Archive (on "Power and Prestige"-- basically, the life of the Irish gentry pre-revolution), and one in a gallery that was a collection of vintage photos (kind of a lesson on the history of photography).
At this point, we still had time before we had to head to the bus, so we wandered in search of food. We were temporarily assisted by a very friendly Dubliner who saw us looking at our map and offered to escort us to the place we were looking for (what they say about Irish hospitality is entirely true). Once we got there, we realized that it wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, so we instead headed back to the hotel for a rest.
Then began the epic saga that was our trip back to London. We took the bus, which was slowed down on its way to the airport by the traffic surrounding a convention center where a Lady Gaga concert was being held (I so wish that I had known about that beforehand... I might have tried to get a ticket!), then we got to the airport and went through security, and I kept beeping for no apparent reason. Then we tried to find dinner, and nothing was open for food except for a place selling sad looking sandwiches. And then our flight was delayed an hour (to 9:35). Then we caught one of the last trains out of the airport (at 11:50), and took a cab back to the flat from London Bridge station (to arrive at 12:45).
I had a cup of tea with my aunt Suzanne, whom I hadn't gotten to see at all the previous weekend, and then repacked my bags, and finally got to sleep at around 2:15 or so, which was not nearly early enough to prepare me for the day ahead.
...to be continued...
Sorry for the delayed posting, my lovely readers. You'll understand why soon enough.
Yesterday was my last day in Dublin (*sniff*). After having breakfast at the same place as the morning before (it was a very good breakfast), Daniel and I set off on a two-hour long "History of Dublin Walking Tour". Our guide was a graduate of Trinity (with a PhD in History) who had been giving these tours on and off for years, and as he was somewhat of a fill-in, he had an odd sort of attitude towards the whole thing-- kind of cynical, kind of flippant--but it worked, in some strange way. We heard a lot of history-- mostly that which lead up to and included the various revolutions and the Troubles. I'm not going to repeat all of it; one, because I can't remember it all, and two, because you would never read my blog again if I did. Instead, I shall give you a broad summary:
1. Protestants= Anglicans= British sympathizers. The minority in what is now the Republic of Ireland, Protestants have always existed in smaller numbers, and have held disproportionate amounts of power. Up until the 1920s, only Protestants could sit in Parliament and attend Trinity College.
2. Catholics= Historically Oppressed Majority= Revolutionaries. (At least historically-- today, that's not so much the case.)
3. Protestants+ Catholics= Big Mess. Most people think of Irish history as being defined by its struggles with the British; rather, it is more often made up of struggles within itself.
Yes, its a very broad summary. But that's probably all you really cared to know anyway. The tour also included a few stops in historically relevant places:
We started at Trinity College (at this lovely statue of Edmund Burke).
Stopped by the old House of Lords (housed in what is now the Bank of Ireland).
And then City Hall. By the way: Gaelic is the first official language in Ireland, so it appears first on all signs and such.... but practically no one speaks it (at least not in Dublin).
City Hall (with lens flare).
Then we went to Dublin Castle-- the traditional seat of the British presence in Ireland, and sight of some bloody revolutionary conflicts, now home to a few government offices.
If you look closely at the statue of Justice on top of the gate, you'll see that she holds the sword and scales of justice (the scales even have tiny holes drilled in so that the rainwater won't tip the scales one way or the other), but she isn't blindfolded, as most statues of Justice are.... the Brits remembered to drill holes in the scales, but not to give her a blindfold.... hmmm....
And we ended at Christ Church Cathedral (this view is actually from my hotel window).
After the tour, my feet felt like they were going to fall off, so we stopped for lunch in a pub that specialized in microbrewery beers. I took a break from drinking Guinness to try another local drink-- a wheat beer-- and while it was good, I think I might have preferred the Guinness. But that's ok.
From there we went to the National Library, which is a huge complex with lots of pretty classical architecture. But the cool part was inside-- an exhibit on Irish poet William Butler Yeats, which was absolutely wonderful (if I'm being honest with myself, it was a better exhibit than the Joyce Center's, but I think I'm too biased). Yeats was a pretty cool guy-- he was a prolific writer of poetry, and he also wrote a few plays; his greatest achievement (for Dublin, anyway) was the creation of the Abbey Theatre, which put on some of the more radical works of his time and helped to revolutionize the Irish understanding of the arts; and he even created his own religion, based on mysticism (primarily Jewish Kabbalah) and some peculiar pagan traditions. Oh, and he won the Nobel Prize for Literature. No big deal.
Part of the National Library.
At this point, we still had time before we had to head to the bus, so we wandered in search of food. We were temporarily assisted by a very friendly Dubliner who saw us looking at our map and offered to escort us to the place we were looking for (what they say about Irish hospitality is entirely true). Once we got there, we realized that it wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, so we instead headed back to the hotel for a rest.
Then began the epic saga that was our trip back to London. We took the bus, which was slowed down on its way to the airport by the traffic surrounding a convention center where a Lady Gaga concert was being held (I so wish that I had known about that beforehand... I might have tried to get a ticket!), then we got to the airport and went through security, and I kept beeping for no apparent reason. Then we tried to find dinner, and nothing was open for food except for a place selling sad looking sandwiches. And then our flight was delayed an hour (to 9:35). Then we caught one of the last trains out of the airport (at 11:50), and took a cab back to the flat from London Bridge station (to arrive at 12:45).
I had a cup of tea with my aunt Suzanne, whom I hadn't gotten to see at all the previous weekend, and then repacked my bags, and finally got to sleep at around 2:15 or so, which was not nearly early enough to prepare me for the day ahead.
My last view of Dublin-- the sun setting over the Liffey.
...to be continued...
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
"Dear Dirty Dublin"
Hello, fair readers! I'm back, and am most excited to tell you all about my day today, which was fairly marvelous. We started out with a nice breakfast in the Temple Bar area, and then crossed the Liffey (the river running through Dublin):
Then we wandered up O'Connell Street:
THE JAMES JOYCE CENTER.
*cue fanfare and cheering*
We have already established that I'm a major Joyce nerd. I adore him. I will be writing my senior honors thesis on Ulysses. I am fully aware that this might indicate that I'm slightly unbalanced in the head. But I couldn't care less.
Also, I just realized that I should probably explain the title of this post. I'm not calling Dublin a dirty city. In fact, most of what I've seen has been rather clean. But it's a quote from Ulysses (one of the "newspaper headlines" in Episode 7) which pretty much sums up Joyce's opinion of Dublin very concisely, and I literally haven't been able to keep that phrase out of my head for the last two days. The end.
So the Joyce Center. It's pretty cool. Very small-- maybe a two and a half room exhibit. However, it contains some spiffy interactive terminals on which one can read about Joyce's biography and navigate one's way through Ulysses, as well as three well-done short documentaries on Joyce and his impact on Ireland, and Joyce's personal effects from his apartments in Paris and Zurich. There were also lots of neat original posters and pictures either relating to Joyce, his work, or things mentioned in his work which lined the staircases, and a small garden outside containing a great mural of Bloom's day in Ulysses and the door to 7 Eccles Street, where Bloom lived in the novel. The Center also houses an impressive archive; however, none of it was on display. I'm kind of crossing my fingers that I can maybe get an internship there this summer, and do a bit of research...
After tearing myself away from the Joyce Center, Daniel and I went to the nearby Dublin Writers Museum, which was made up of two rooms full of biographies of great Irish writers and some cool artifacts, like first edition signed copies of books, typewriters, manuscripts, etc. The museum was a bit dry though, and really didn't compare to the Joyce Center. Oh well.
We headed back across the river and made our way to lunch at a slightly nicer restaurant, where Daniel and I had a long discussion about literary theory (strangely enough, the people at the table next to us were having a similar conversation). And from there, we headed off to do something considerably less intellectual, but probably equally cultural-- visit the Guinness Storehouse.
The Guinness Storehouse is kind of like Disneyworld. But with beer. Actually, a better description is that it is like the Hershey's Factory, but aimed at adults, and instead of getting a bite-sized chocolate bar at the end of the tour, you get a pint of beer. You can perhaps understand why it is actually the number one tourist attraction in the entire country.
The Storehouse itself is part of the 60-acre Guinness Brewery complex, and was originally where the yeast was extracted and then added to the beer.
Now, it is a seven-story exhibit, advertising extravaganza, and bar, all in one! The coolest feature: the center of the building is left open on every story, and the width varies in such a way that it is shaped like a giant pint glass. If you look down from the top, you see black (the first floor center is black granite), and up at the top, the walls are a light tan with lots of little holes (or bubbles!) in the walls and ceiling. Fun fact: if filled, this enormous pint would hold 14.3 million pints of Guinness.
The exhibit was mostly focused on explaining the process by which Guinness is made, with lots of reference to the history and development of the brewing machinery and techniques. There was also some history of the company itself (fun fact #2: Arthur Guinness, the founder of the brewery, signed a 9000 year lease on the St. James' Gate property back in the 1700s), as well as a history of their advertising, which was kind of neat (there were lots of very amusing posters). Oh, and fun fact #3: the Guinness Book of World Records is, in fact, directly connected to the Guinness Brewery! Over lunch one day, two employees got into a debate about which was the fastest bird in the world (anyone else feeling a Monty Python reference right now?). The argument continued for days, and by then, everyone in the factory was involved. Finally, some smart person decided that they should create a book of this sort of information that bartenders could use to settle these sorts of debates in their bars-- and thus, the Guinness Book of World Records was born. Today, it is the highest-selling book of all time, after the Bible and Qu'ran.
The tour concluded with a trip to the Gravity Bar on the very top floor, where we got our complimentary pints, along with a 360 degree view of Dublin! The glass walls of the bar were printed with quotes from Joyce novels which described each particular area that one could view (or could theoretically view) from each point around the room (which made me very, very happy inside.... though the beer probably helped).
After safely making it through the ginormous gift shop without spending more than three euros (which was pretty impressive, I have to say), we headed back to the hotel to collapse for a little while. Later, we wandered around town looking for a good dinner place, and on the recommendation of a homeless man, ate at a tapas restaurant which turned out to be wonderful. We finished off the evening with a pint of Guinness (or a half-pint, in my case, because I am a lightweight) at The Stag's Head, a local institution with awesome pub decor and atmosphere-- basically, the most stereotypical Irish pub you can think of, with a bit more class. Though I didn't feel like a local, I could certainly get the impression that if I was a local, this is exactly where I would go on a regular basis. It was wonderful.
Only one day left in "dear dirty Dublin"! But hey, Ulysses is evidence that an awful lot can happen in just one day... particularly in this city! :)
The oldest bridge in Dublin-- the Ha'Penny Bridge, I believe.
Then we wandered up O'Connell Street:
There are lots of monuments in the center of the boulevard, including this one-- the Parnell Memorial (Parnell was one of the leaders of the revolutionary movement).
Then we made a few wrong turns, but finally arrived at...THE JAMES JOYCE CENTER.
*cue fanfare and cheering*
We have already established that I'm a major Joyce nerd. I adore him. I will be writing my senior honors thesis on Ulysses. I am fully aware that this might indicate that I'm slightly unbalanced in the head. But I couldn't care less.
Yep. Just that cool.
Also, I just realized that I should probably explain the title of this post. I'm not calling Dublin a dirty city. In fact, most of what I've seen has been rather clean. But it's a quote from Ulysses (one of the "newspaper headlines" in Episode 7) which pretty much sums up Joyce's opinion of Dublin very concisely, and I literally haven't been able to keep that phrase out of my head for the last two days. The end.
So the Joyce Center. It's pretty cool. Very small-- maybe a two and a half room exhibit. However, it contains some spiffy interactive terminals on which one can read about Joyce's biography and navigate one's way through Ulysses, as well as three well-done short documentaries on Joyce and his impact on Ireland, and Joyce's personal effects from his apartments in Paris and Zurich. There were also lots of neat original posters and pictures either relating to Joyce, his work, or things mentioned in his work which lined the staircases, and a small garden outside containing a great mural of Bloom's day in Ulysses and the door to 7 Eccles Street, where Bloom lived in the novel. The Center also houses an impressive archive; however, none of it was on display. I'm kind of crossing my fingers that I can maybe get an internship there this summer, and do a bit of research...
7 Eccles Street. It appears that no one is home at the moment.
The beginning of the Bloomsday mural.
After tearing myself away from the Joyce Center, Daniel and I went to the nearby Dublin Writers Museum, which was made up of two rooms full of biographies of great Irish writers and some cool artifacts, like first edition signed copies of books, typewriters, manuscripts, etc. The museum was a bit dry though, and really didn't compare to the Joyce Center. Oh well.
We headed back across the river and made our way to lunch at a slightly nicer restaurant, where Daniel and I had a long discussion about literary theory (strangely enough, the people at the table next to us were having a similar conversation). And from there, we headed off to do something considerably less intellectual, but probably equally cultural-- visit the Guinness Storehouse.
The Guinness Storehouse is kind of like Disneyworld. But with beer. Actually, a better description is that it is like the Hershey's Factory, but aimed at adults, and instead of getting a bite-sized chocolate bar at the end of the tour, you get a pint of beer. You can perhaps understand why it is actually the number one tourist attraction in the entire country.
The Storehouse itself is part of the 60-acre Guinness Brewery complex, and was originally where the yeast was extracted and then added to the beer.
This is just a tiny bit of the factory-- it is HUGE.
Now, it is a seven-story exhibit, advertising extravaganza, and bar, all in one! The coolest feature: the center of the building is left open on every story, and the width varies in such a way that it is shaped like a giant pint glass. If you look down from the top, you see black (the first floor center is black granite), and up at the top, the walls are a light tan with lots of little holes (or bubbles!) in the walls and ceiling. Fun fact: if filled, this enormous pint would hold 14.3 million pints of Guinness.
The exhibit was mostly focused on explaining the process by which Guinness is made, with lots of reference to the history and development of the brewing machinery and techniques. There was also some history of the company itself (fun fact #2: Arthur Guinness, the founder of the brewery, signed a 9000 year lease on the St. James' Gate property back in the 1700s), as well as a history of their advertising, which was kind of neat (there were lots of very amusing posters). Oh, and fun fact #3: the Guinness Book of World Records is, in fact, directly connected to the Guinness Brewery! Over lunch one day, two employees got into a debate about which was the fastest bird in the world (anyone else feeling a Monty Python reference right now?). The argument continued for days, and by then, everyone in the factory was involved. Finally, some smart person decided that they should create a book of this sort of information that bartenders could use to settle these sorts of debates in their bars-- and thus, the Guinness Book of World Records was born. Today, it is the highest-selling book of all time, after the Bible and Qu'ran.
The tour concluded with a trip to the Gravity Bar on the very top floor, where we got our complimentary pints, along with a 360 degree view of Dublin! The glass walls of the bar were printed with quotes from Joyce novels which described each particular area that one could view (or could theoretically view) from each point around the room (which made me very, very happy inside.... though the beer probably helped).
Pouring a pint of Guinness is a science. It has to sit for four minutes to let it settle (compare the pint on the left to the one on the right), and then it gets topped off.
Until it looks like this.
And then you start drinking it without delay.
After safely making it through the ginormous gift shop without spending more than three euros (which was pretty impressive, I have to say), we headed back to the hotel to collapse for a little while. Later, we wandered around town looking for a good dinner place, and on the recommendation of a homeless man, ate at a tapas restaurant which turned out to be wonderful. We finished off the evening with a pint of Guinness (or a half-pint, in my case, because I am a lightweight) at The Stag's Head, a local institution with awesome pub decor and atmosphere-- basically, the most stereotypical Irish pub you can think of, with a bit more class. Though I didn't feel like a local, I could certainly get the impression that if I was a local, this is exactly where I would go on a regular basis. It was wonderful.
Only one day left in "dear dirty Dublin"! But hey, Ulysses is evidence that an awful lot can happen in just one day... particularly in this city! :)
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
"Ireland: Island of Saints and Sages"
I will warn you right off the bat-- Joyce quotes and references are going to probably show up incredibly frequently in the next few posts. Feel free to ignore them, laugh at me about them, or what have you, but I simply can't help myself. I'M IN DUBLIN!!! WHERE JAMES JOYCE LIVED. AND WHERE ALL OF HIS BOOKS ARE SET. LIKE ULYSSES. GAHHHHHH.
Sorry. I kind of had to get that out of my system.
Let's start over. Hi everyone. I'm in Dublin. And I'm very excited about it.
Daniel and I left the flat in London at 6:15 this morning (oh jeez... that was a long time ago), and made our way to Gatwick airport, from which we took a one-hour flight (on Aer Lingus-- the Irish airline) to Dublin. I was asleep for most of it, but I woke up in time to see a beautiful aerial view of the city as we descended. From the airport, we hopped on a bus and then hopped off again where we were told to go... and didn't see the hotel. Granted, we knew that it would be a minute or so's walk, but we didn't know which direction, and didn't have an address. So, we wandered for a little while. We basically made a big ol' circle and eventually found our way to the hotel, which was in fact only a minute in the direction opposite the one we went. That's ok though-- we did find Dublin Castle during our meandering, so it wasn't a total loss.
We left our bags at the hotel and immediately set off on an adventure. Armed with a map this time, we headed out in search of lunch, only to discover that the vast majority of shops and pubs were closed. This was incredibly strange. We eventually realized that it's a bank holiday in Ireland-- go figure. Anyway, we wandered through Temple Bar-- a two-square-block or so area filled with pubs and clubs, eventually landing at a tiny, local-friendly place called "gruel". I had a super delicious corned beef hash (with potatoes, spinach, and poached eggs). I may have a new favorite food.
Then we set off in search of Trinity College-- sort of the Oxford of Ireland, if you will. It's not an enormous campus, but it has an awful lot of buildings, and some very pretty ones at that. The college itself was founded in 1550 something, and has produced all sorts of Irish greats-- Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, Edmund Burke.... it's a very long list. We took a quick tour of the college (lead by a very attractive young man with an old-fashioned academic gown over his North Face jacket), and then headed into the old library, which houses the Book of Kells--one of the most famous illuminated manuscripts in the world.
If you don't know what the Book of Kells looks like, go look up some pictures on the internet-- because I don't have any. We couldn't take pictures inside. However, I will tell you that it is one impressive book (well, ok, it's actually four books; the first four gospels, I believe)-- it is about 1200 years old (maybe older-- I can't remember), and still lavishly decorated and richly colored as ever. The library also houses two other illuminated bibles from a similar time, which are also in impressively good condition, but neither are as beautiful as the Book of Kells. We also saw the Long Room (which sadly did not contain a Longcat), which is the world's largest continuous library room, filled with two stories of beautiful old books as well as marble busts of famous graduates and historical/literary figures. It was fantastic.
After Trinity College, we followed (and had to cross!) the Dublin Marathon for a bit, then made our way to St. Stephan's Green, which is a very lovely park. It was a beautiful day, so we walked around and sat for a little while...
Then we found the James Joyce monument (and then headed out again):
We stopped by St. Patrick's Cathedral on our way back to the hotel-- it's a nice cathedral, but its history and artifacts were more impressive than the building itself. It is the National Church of the Church of Ireland, so it contains all sorts of cool old flags and things.
Also, Johnathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels, was buried there.
Oh yeah, and it is named after St. Stephen because it is built on the site where, legend has it, the well that St. Stephen used to baptize the first Irish Christians was.
By this point, my feet felt like they were going to fall off, so we went back to the hotel to relax for a bit. We had an adventure trying to get the internet working (and it's ridiculously expensive, so don't be surprised if you don't see an update tomorrow), and then we set off in search of dinner. After ambling about much of the somewhat tourist-friendly pub area (by the way, there are 700 pubs in Dublin. Just thought I'd put that out there), we settled on Davy Byrnes'-- the pub in which Leopold Bloom eats his lunch of a gorgonzola sandwhich and glass of burgundy in Ulysses. I had Irish stew, but that was good enough for me-- I ATE IN THE SAME PUB AS LEOPOLD BLOOM. *Ah-hem*-- sorry.
We then headed two pubs over to the Duke, where we gathered for the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, which is possibly the greatest thing ever conceived. Two actors took us around four pubs (as well as Trinity College and a few random stops on the street), telling us about the famous Irish writers who drank there and performing bits of their work. The highlight was definitely the performance of the beginning of Waiting for Godot (which they pronounce 'GAH-doe', instead of "Guh-DOH"), and I had a major nerd moment when they talked about Joyce and his connection to a particular Irish Jew (and by nerd moment, I mean I actually died of excitement inside). Also, at the end of the tour, there was a quiz-- and I knew all of the answers, but I wasn't loud enough to be heard for most of them, so I didn't win a t-shirt at the end. I was, however, only one of two people to answer one of the questions, which was pretty cool. Also, while walking around (and drinking around), Daniel and I met a lovely couple from the Isle of Man, and we had some absolutely fascinating conversations with them. It was pretty wonderful. Oh! And I had my very first Guinness! It was infinitely better than all of the other beers I've ever had-- I've been converted.
Well, it's rather late, and I best be getting to bed... need to rest up so that I can go to THE JOYCE CENTER tomorrow! Not that I'm excited about it or anything....
Goodnight, dear readers, from Dublin!
Sorry. I kind of had to get that out of my system.
Let's start over. Hi everyone. I'm in Dublin. And I'm very excited about it.
Daniel and I left the flat in London at 6:15 this morning (oh jeez... that was a long time ago), and made our way to Gatwick airport, from which we took a one-hour flight (on Aer Lingus-- the Irish airline) to Dublin. I was asleep for most of it, but I woke up in time to see a beautiful aerial view of the city as we descended. From the airport, we hopped on a bus and then hopped off again where we were told to go... and didn't see the hotel. Granted, we knew that it would be a minute or so's walk, but we didn't know which direction, and didn't have an address. So, we wandered for a little while. We basically made a big ol' circle and eventually found our way to the hotel, which was in fact only a minute in the direction opposite the one we went. That's ok though-- we did find Dublin Castle during our meandering, so it wasn't a total loss.
We left our bags at the hotel and immediately set off on an adventure. Armed with a map this time, we headed out in search of lunch, only to discover that the vast majority of shops and pubs were closed. This was incredibly strange. We eventually realized that it's a bank holiday in Ireland-- go figure. Anyway, we wandered through Temple Bar-- a two-square-block or so area filled with pubs and clubs, eventually landing at a tiny, local-friendly place called "gruel". I had a super delicious corned beef hash (with potatoes, spinach, and poached eggs). I may have a new favorite food.
Then we set off in search of Trinity College-- sort of the Oxford of Ireland, if you will. It's not an enormous campus, but it has an awful lot of buildings, and some very pretty ones at that. The college itself was founded in 1550 something, and has produced all sorts of Irish greats-- Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, Edmund Burke.... it's a very long list. We took a quick tour of the college (lead by a very attractive young man with an old-fashioned academic gown over his North Face jacket), and then headed into the old library, which houses the Book of Kells--one of the most famous illuminated manuscripts in the world.
If you don't know what the Book of Kells looks like, go look up some pictures on the internet-- because I don't have any. We couldn't take pictures inside. However, I will tell you that it is one impressive book (well, ok, it's actually four books; the first four gospels, I believe)-- it is about 1200 years old (maybe older-- I can't remember), and still lavishly decorated and richly colored as ever. The library also houses two other illuminated bibles from a similar time, which are also in impressively good condition, but neither are as beautiful as the Book of Kells. We also saw the Long Room (which sadly did not contain a Longcat), which is the world's largest continuous library room, filled with two stories of beautiful old books as well as marble busts of famous graduates and historical/literary figures. It was fantastic.
After Trinity College, we followed (and had to cross!) the Dublin Marathon for a bit, then made our way to St. Stephan's Green, which is a very lovely park. It was a beautiful day, so we walked around and sat for a little while...
Then we found the James Joyce monument (and then headed out again):
We stopped by St. Patrick's Cathedral on our way back to the hotel-- it's a nice cathedral, but its history and artifacts were more impressive than the building itself. It is the National Church of the Church of Ireland, so it contains all sorts of cool old flags and things.
Also, Johnathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels, was buried there.
Oh yeah, and it is named after St. Stephen because it is built on the site where, legend has it, the well that St. Stephen used to baptize the first Irish Christians was.
By this point, my feet felt like they were going to fall off, so we went back to the hotel to relax for a bit. We had an adventure trying to get the internet working (and it's ridiculously expensive, so don't be surprised if you don't see an update tomorrow), and then we set off in search of dinner. After ambling about much of the somewhat tourist-friendly pub area (by the way, there are 700 pubs in Dublin. Just thought I'd put that out there), we settled on Davy Byrnes'-- the pub in which Leopold Bloom eats his lunch of a gorgonzola sandwhich and glass of burgundy in Ulysses. I had Irish stew, but that was good enough for me-- I ATE IN THE SAME PUB AS LEOPOLD BLOOM. *Ah-hem*-- sorry.
We then headed two pubs over to the Duke, where we gathered for the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, which is possibly the greatest thing ever conceived. Two actors took us around four pubs (as well as Trinity College and a few random stops on the street), telling us about the famous Irish writers who drank there and performing bits of their work. The highlight was definitely the performance of the beginning of Waiting for Godot (which they pronounce 'GAH-doe', instead of "Guh-DOH"), and I had a major nerd moment when they talked about Joyce and his connection to a particular Irish Jew (and by nerd moment, I mean I actually died of excitement inside). Also, at the end of the tour, there was a quiz-- and I knew all of the answers, but I wasn't loud enough to be heard for most of them, so I didn't win a t-shirt at the end. I was, however, only one of two people to answer one of the questions, which was pretty cool. Also, while walking around (and drinking around), Daniel and I met a lovely couple from the Isle of Man, and we had some absolutely fascinating conversations with them. It was pretty wonderful. Oh! And I had my very first Guinness! It was infinitely better than all of the other beers I've ever had-- I've been converted.
Well, it's rather late, and I best be getting to bed... need to rest up so that I can go to THE JOYCE CENTER tomorrow! Not that I'm excited about it or anything....
Goodnight, dear readers, from Dublin!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
"To the Americans: I hope you enjoy all of this wonderful history. It could have been yours, too-- if you had just paid your taxes."
Well folks, it's my last day in London. :( But it's also my last day before Dublin! :)
We had a slightly more laid back day today (only slightly, mind you). We woke up a bit late, and made waffles for breakfast (boy have I missed waffles...), which was wonderful. Then Clay and I had to go to Paddington Station to pick up his train ticket for tonight (because I stupidly paid with my credit card, so I had to collect the tickets), so that was a significant detour. But again, a great adventure in public transportation navigation!
From there, we headed to the Tower of London, which comprised most of the day's amusement. We had a quick lunch, then wandered around a bit, then caught a tour with one of the Beefeaters, or Yeoman Wardens (otherwise known as a resident tour guide with a funny uniform).
We had a slightly more laid back day today (only slightly, mind you). We woke up a bit late, and made waffles for breakfast (boy have I missed waffles...), which was wonderful. Then Clay and I had to go to Paddington Station to pick up his train ticket for tonight (because I stupidly paid with my credit card, so I had to collect the tickets), so that was a significant detour. But again, a great adventure in public transportation navigation!
From there, we headed to the Tower of London, which comprised most of the day's amusement. We had a quick lunch, then wandered around a bit, then caught a tour with one of the Beefeaters, or Yeoman Wardens (otherwise known as a resident tour guide with a funny uniform).
The Tower of London; or, more precisely, "The Enormous Castle Complex with Two Walls and Moat Built Around What Was Once a Tower in London".
Our tourguide, a Yeoman Warden/Beefeater (who was hysterically funny).
The tour was great-- the guide was hilarious, and the history of the Tower is fascinating. (Note: The title of this post came from his introduction to the tour). We learned all about the bloody history of the Tower... in gory detail. The Tower may not have been intended as a prison back when William the Conqueror built it back in 1070... but that's what it's remembered for today. Many famous people were held in the Tower before being executed on a nearby hill (with the exception of seven very famous people who were executed within the complex); notably, Sir Thomas More, Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard (another of Henry VIII's wives), Lady Jane Grey, Guy Fawkes, etc. Several kings and queens were also imprisoned there for varying lengths of time-- it was a favorite punishment for political prisoners.
"Traitor's Gate," through which many notable captives were taken into the Tower of London by boat--particularly Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey.
Monument marking the place where those who were beheaded within the walls of the Tower were...well, beheaded.
Where the Queens were held the night before being executed.
The "Bloody Tower"-- where two young princes were killed by their uncle, who later became
King Richard III.
This is all rather gruesome.... let's move on to some pretty, and less icky, parts of the Tower:
The White Tower-- the original Tower of London.
Where the Crown Jewels are kept-- we waited half an hour to see them, and it was so worth it-- there is enough value in one of those crowns to bail most countries out of their recessions. We also saw the world's largest cut diamond (530 carats), and at least four others in the top ten largest diamonds in the world. It's a pretty impressive collection.
King Henry VIII's armor (and his horse's).
A really cool cannon. I kind of doubt that it ever saw any battle... but there were several there that were used in the Battle of Waterloo!
The last remnants of the Roman wall that used to mark the boundaries of London (back when it was controlled by the Romans, of course).
GUARDS!!!
A Trebuchet (aka, a catapult).
LOOK AT THE TODDLER ARMOR. IT IS ADORABLE. ALSO A BIT DISTURBING.
So yeah, that was the Tower of London. It was pretty cool.
Clay and I went on another Tube adventure to get back to the flat, where we crashed for a little while before realizing that we had to eat dinner before Clay left to catch his train. So we literally ran to a cafe, scarfed down some food, ran back, and got him out the door just in time for him to catch the bus. Success.
And now I'm packing up and getting ready to leave for Ireland very, very, very early in the morning.
Signing out from London..... see you tomorrow, Dublin!!!
I leave you with this lovely photo before I go:
I leave you with this lovely photo before I go:
"Hey you-- in the brown, on the right-- you're doing it wrong. You forgot that Sunday is 'Wear your fuzzy hat day'. You're out of the club."
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