One month ago today Craig and I woke up in Dublin.
The night before we had arrived in Dublin as well, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. But we did then spend an hour walking around and around in circles trying to find our hostel.
The hostel was approximately in the red circle. On the morning of the 5th we walked up to the Liffey using Upper Camden, Lower Camden and Wexford streets. They were populated with run down and almost-closed stores. Rubbish and vomit and graffiti.
I wasn’t impressed. So I think I sent a message and my darling Irish cousin got rather miffed. So now, for the official record of the internet, I want to point out that a couple of days later we took Harcourt Street up past St Stephen’s Green to Grafton Street. And it was lovely.
Early morning over the River Liffey.
The sky was beautiful.
I wasn’t really prepared for Dublin. I brought jerseys.
Our first stop. Like most, was O’Connell Street.
Welllllll … to be entirely honest. Our first stop was Mulligan’s bar. But it was closed and there were delivery trucks around and as such … no photos and no evidence.
The General Post Office
Merrion Square North
Know why we stopped here? yet?
Wildes-ian and not so Wildes-ian graffiti. I think, I don’t really know. I can’t read it.
A statue on one of the graffiti-laced plinths. Not certain if it has anything at all to do with Oscar Wilde. Of course.
The birthplace of Oscar Wilde. And the Gaelic/English street sign.
A shamrock on the streetlight!!
There are over 400 Churches in Dublin.
But over 600 pubs.
The Irish Museum of Modern Art.
We couldn’t work out how to get inside. Besides walking through to the square in the middle and through to the gardens beyond. It was quite lovely.
We did manange to see some external installations but decided to move on to the infinitely less soul-destroying Kilmainham Gaol.
The Axe (and the Waving Girl) by Alice Maher
I can’t remember what the tall thing is. But it’s the second tallest in the world, after the one in Washington DC.
Damn … that thing where you forget certain words.
Au Revoir old old hospital
Bonjour Kilmainham Gaol.
And your scary scary snakes.
Beware of the Risen People
That have harried and held. Ye that have bullied and bribed.
Joseph Plunkett took part in the 1916 rising.
Hours before his execution by firing squad at the age of 28, he was married in the prison chapel to his sweetheart Grace Gifford. They had 10 minutes alone.
Poor Grace Gifford. She snuck in paints.
Kilminham & a plane!
I found myself choking up as I left the yard & the gaol.
I used to know this history like the back of my hand. Surprisingly it all came back quite quickly.
And now for something completely different.
The old Jameson’s Factory.
My new drink. Jameson’s & Cranberry. Craig had his with cola. Surprise surprise.
And the sun sets over the Liffey on the 5th of October.
Craig and I spent the evening walking around Temple Bar trying to find somewhere to have dinner. We finally went into one “Italian” restaurant but after seeing they had Chicken Curry on the menu? I just had to get out of there. I’m sorry but that is just 7 kinds of wrong. Unless it is a fusion Italian/Indian restaurant.
Actually? that’s still wrong.
We ended up waiting for 45 minutes inside a little cramped (actual) Italian place as groups of 4 left and were seated again and 3 couples waited.
Thankfully the food was more than worth it and it was a tiny little dark table with pasta and wine and dripping candles. Lovely.
Then we had to walk down the street of garbage all the way home. And watch people vomiting.