DUBLIN DAYS

We had Saturday evening and Monday to spend trucking around Dublin. When we arrived on Saturday, the city was buzzing with activity. There were FIVE major events going on in Dublin this weekend – Taylor Swift on tour, the Gaelic Football quarter finals, Shania Twain on tour, Pride weekend, and an annual music festival. The bus brought us into the airport and we thought the taxi driver was going to weep when he picked us up at the airport and we said we were going downtown. He certainly hung his head in resignation. He was stalwart though, and not only took us to our hotel, but told jokes and stories along the way. Irish through and through.

We checked into the StayCity Aparthotel, which had a lovely room with a micro-kitchen and all that was needed to be comfy for a couple of days. We could have made our own dinner – dishes and everything. Let me be clear -we didn’t – but we could have. 

We decided we would just find an early dinner and then find the Molly Malone statue where we were supposed to meet our tour guide the next morning for the Wicklow Mountains. The Lombard Pub down the road served a mean Irish stew and we left ready to tramp some cobblestones. We did find the Molly Malone statue and wandered around enjoying the sights, the amazing architecture in the buildings, and the energetic characters bouncing around the city on their various missions.  Heading back to the hotel, we made a reasonably early night of it.

Wicklow finished on the Sunday, there was one day left to explore Dublin. We went for breakfast at Bread 41 again and then headed across the Liffey to Bag City. Yes, I hang my head in shame. Having said I was going to try hard to come home with just pictures, I managed to accumulate enough extras to need another small bag to get stuff home. Then Peter and I parted ways.

Having slept poorly the night before, I planned only to hit the Irish Family History Centre and then find my way back to the hotel to re-pack and prepare all the customs stuff. The Family History Centre is where you can talk with someone who can help you find your heritage and either get started with genealogy or help you fill in gaps. I was just curious about it and knew you had to have an appointment, but I found it interesting to stop in and have that confirmed. I know a cousin has done a lot of genealogy on the Irish side of the family and it would be smart to take a look at that to see if there even are any gaps in her work. She was at it a long time and there may not be any.  I left the centre and wandered around Dublin for a couple of hours stopping at interesting monuments, reading stories and taking photos. The famine statues and story made me cry. Again. It was such a desperate time in Irish history. Milllions emigrated. Many died on the way or soon after arrival. The ships they were transported on were named coffin ships for a reason – deplorable conditions. What I didn’t know, is that there is a 165 km trek from Strokestown, County Roscommon, to the Dublin Docks.  This trek follows the footsteps of 1,490 tenants from the Mahon Estate that walked to the Dublin Docks to emigrate to Canada. One third of them never made it. Along the way, there are bronze shoes that tell a story. The statues are heartbreaking and the one of a father carrying the body of his fallen child on his shoulders undid me completely and I felt an overwhelming desire to see my own babies.

Aside from the Dublin Portal spire and statues of the historical figures who were key to Ireland’s independence, I  found two other interesting monuments. One was a large cross seemingly in the middle of nowhere in the street. This was a monument to a constable Patrick Sheahan who died trying to save John Fleming, who had descended into the sewer to do a job and was overcome by sewer gas The monument also honours the citizens that tried to help. Just common people, being human beings.  The other monument I found interesting was the “Steine” marker.  The river Liffey’s banks had once come as far into Dublin as this marker. This was a landing place in the time of the Vikings and the Steine - or Long Stone – was a marker that indicated the landing place. There are two faces on the stone commemorating Ivor, the Viking king that ruled Dublin in the 9th century, and Mary de Hogges’ convent.  It also marks the spot where tons of motorcycles are parked, assuming the risk of having a bike stolen may be reduced because it is right in front of the Garda station.

Peter had a much more ambitious plan for the day. He visited the art gallery, which was featuring a women’s impressionist exhibition. Other famous art also in situ fascinated him, as art is close to his heart.

Along the way, he found an Oscar Wilde sculpture and a statue of a women atop a stone pillar carved with quotes. Another of the sculptures he saw may also have been related to the famine but did not find the marker explaining it.  Along his route, he also found a pyramid monument with soldiers and an eternal flame inside commemorating the defence forces of Ireland.

Peter’s next stop was the Archaeology Museum, which had many artefacts from other sites we had visited, including from the Corlea Trackway, Loughcrew Cairns, and the Caherconnell Ring Fort.  All fascinating stuff, but I didn’t think I had really missed anything as most of what he had seen was also shows in the Hunt Museum. The exception were the “bog men” found desiccated, but remarkably preserved. So much that they were able to do re-creations of what they looked like. I had seen them when we were in Dublin before, and it is quite amazing how they were preserved in the peat bogs.  I would have found it fascinating too, but to really appreciate these museums properly, it almost has to be the only thing I do in a day.
 
On the way back he found the remaining portion of the Dublin city wall from the Anglo-Norman invasion days. Peter’s last stop, of course was the Brazen Head (Dublin’s oldest pub), for a pint before heading back to the hotel to meet me for dinner.  The last time he was out at a Dublin pub by himself, I’d had to go get him. Apparently everyone grows up eventually, because he found his way back without my intervention.  😉

We splurged on a nice seafood restaurant in the Temple Bar district for our last night. Peter had some more snot in a shell (oysters) and apparently they were very good. I’ll have to take his word for it. We had the ceviche appetizer, which was served on Irish Tayto’s as advertised. Sounds weird, but it was really good.  Entrees of monkfish for Peter and lobster for me, and my dessert of sticky toffee pudding finished off an excellent meal.  Feeling we had done it right, we waddled back to our hotel.
We were left feeling like we weren’t ready to go home – there was more to see and do. But it will have to wait for another journey.  Sláinte, everyone. Good night and joy be to you all.