Dublin I

The 2016 expedition had gone so well that I decided to use the services of Travel Central and Leatta Perdue again. Leatta said that this trip would be easier to plan. They  had my “profile” now. They knew what I liked and expected. I had been so pleased with the first trip that I thought why not? Why not just do it again? 

I had toyed with the idea of making my own arrangements. An experienced traveler told me: “There’s a difference between touring and traveling.” Maybe next time.  

“Where do you want to go?” I couldn’t go “over there” again without stopping in Ireland. It wasn’t just Irish Catholic guilt. I really wanted to see Dublin again. It had been almost twenty years.

It was tempting to go back to some of the places I’d seen in 2016. I knew I had just scratched the surface. There’s a big world out there. I decided I’d better see more of it. My thinking was a bit more adventurous. Spain. Greece.   

I would be traveling budget. I had a better idea of what the hotels would be like. Most of the hotels on the 2016 tour had been more than adequate. I knew there would be surprises, both good and bad.  

There would be more traveling on this trip. Flights within Europe. Trains. Maybe the bus. I would be taking ferries in Greece. Most of the arrangements were made by Travel Central, but  there were a few connections I would have to make for myself when I was over there. I was a bit spoiled on the last trip. Almost everything was planned and paid for. I would have to make my own arrangements to get from Seville to Madrid by either train or bus. There would be two ferry rides in Greece. 

I tried to get the train and ferry tickets before I left, but the companies in Spain and Greece would not accept a foreign credit card. It seemed a bit silly in this day and age, but it was a hint of what Greece and Spain would be like. Maybe they’ve been burned in the past, but I had to wonder: They haven’t figured out a way to do this online yet? It’s a reminder I’m going to a foreign culture.  

    

It was still easier this time. There weren’t as many unknowns for me. I wasn’t as in the dark as the first trip. On the first trip I had imagined some kind of last minute disaster. Something that would stall or ruin the trip. I was still a little nervous about making that first flight, but I wasn’t as angst ridden as I was on that first trip. 

It was a quiet solo Super Shuttle ride to the airport for an 8:40 am flight on American Airlines. It was early, but not ungodly early. Even the security check wasn’t as nerve wracking. When I entered the security area a guard said, “Go right!” I walked through the stanchions and didn’t really pay attention. I unconsciously wandered a bit to my left while walking towards the metal detectors. I was the only one walking up this portion of the line. Four TSA guards were headed towards me with a large German Shepherd. The guard behind me yelled, “Go right!” Yeah. I better get out of their way. The dog sniffed at me and my rolling bag. At least I knew I passed the dog test.

I’m early. There’s enough time to visit The Yoga Room. There’s only one other person inside. It’s great to loosen up the legs before a long flight. 

It’s about a five hour flight to Charlotte. I have about a two hour layover before the flight across the Atlantic. Plenty of time. The weather was bad across the country. A big storm threatened the Midwest and East. There was a delay before takeoff. We sat on the runway for about an hour. Not a good start. I have problems sitting through a normal flight, and I would have the trans-Atlantic flight ahead of me. I really didn’t need extra time sitting in the plane on the runway. 

I landed in Charlotte. This was still a long flight for me. There had been lightning strikes and we have to wait for an all clear. We waited on the tarmac. I’ve been cooped up long enough that I’m willing to take my chances with lightning strikes. What were the odds? Of course I know it doesn’t work that way. Safety first. It was another forty five minute wait. There was no sense in getting arrested for air rage at this point.  

I was glad to get off the plane and stretch my legs before the longer flight across the Atlantic. I check my ticket and realize that it doesn’t say what gate my flight to Dublin is leaving from. Shouldn’t be a big problem. I’ll just check the TV monitors. How big can the Charlotte, North Carolina airport be? I was expecting a small town airport. The airport is huge! It’s a big hub for connecting international flights.  

The TV monitors with flight information don’t have the gate number. I go up to the counter of another American Airlines flight. A surly black woman gives me the gate number. I realize later that I took off in the wrong direction. I have a little trouble finding the right gate. I have to admit this stressed me out a bit. I certainly don’t want to miss this flight. I didn’t really have to rush to the gate, but I did anyway. When I got there I still had about twenty minutes to spare. Guess what? The flight was delayed. I got a little stressed out for nothing. At least I didn’t have to sit on the plane for this delay. 

Now the really long flight. Fourteen hours with the time change. Eleven hours flying. I go armed with newspapers and paperbacks. I should get to Dublin at 7:15 a.m.   

The ear phones they have on airplanes just don’t work for me. I just really can’t hear through them. But on a flight this long I’m certainly going to watch a movie. I endured Dustin Hoffman playing Joe Paterno. The Death of Stalin was oddly amusing, but I’ll have to watch it again. There was a great documentary on Warren Buffett. It’s hard to hear, but it does distract me. 

I’m getting a little more used to international flights, but it was still a little bit of an ordeal for me. 

Landed in Dublin. Magic words. I got off the flight in a daze. My legs were still attached to my body.  We left the plane and entered a long steel and glass hallway. A female police woman with white hair was guiding departing passengers to the baggage pickup. She had the first brogue I’d hear on this trip. “Thiswaytobaggagepickup!” How could I forget how fast they talk? It didn’t look like there could be any other direction to go. She kept repeating the directions.  

My travel agent, Leatta Perdue had strongly suggested taking a cab to the hotel. Thirty Euro. As usual, it was sage advice and well worth it. The cab driver was friendly. He asked if I had been to Dublin before. He congratulated me for making it back. It had been nearly twenty years since my last visit. I knew there were changes, but it was still surprising. I was having a hard time finding any familiar landmarks. I commented on the changes. The cabbie paused before giving his answer: “There have been a lot of changes. Some good... Some bad.” He didn’t elaborate. The wisdom of cab drivers.   

A lot had happened in Dublin since 1999. The city was booming during my last visit. The Celtic Tiger still ruled then. There was some concern that too much of the country’s real estate was being sold to French investors, but the banking crisis put a hold on that. Ireland had a long Recession. Now things were booming again, especially the tourist industry.

I was staying in a different part of the city than the 1999 trip. I couldn’t believe how different things looked. There were landmarks I recognized, but it just seemed to be a different city. 

The hotel was across the street from Christ Church. My last trip had ended in a nearby pub after a long and amazing “last night in Dublin.” By chance we had run into Matt Adams. He was one of the traders from the early days of the Pacific Stock Exchange Options Floor. He was walking down Grafton Street eating an ice cream cone. I knew he was visiting Ireland, but what were the odds of running into him on the street?  

It was still too early to check in to The Harding Hotel, but I could drop off my bag. Christ Church wasn’t open yet. As part of my itinerary I had an open ticket to see “Trinity College and the Book of Kells.” I did the jet lag walk to Trinity College.   

It was great to be walking the cobble stoned streets of Dublin again. I went up Lord Edward Street. This was familiar territory from my last trip. I knew where I was. I got a closer look at the changes. There were many construction sites and new, modern buildings, but I was starting to recognize older buildings and landmarks. Things really became more familiar near Dublin Castle and City Hall. It was great to be back in Dublin. On my first visit, I had felt like I knew the place. It was like I’d been there before. 

At City Hall there is a plaque honoring the martyrs of the Easter Uprising. I walked past the entrance to Dublin Castle.

  Arrows at every street corner reminded stupid tourists which way to look when you cross the street. “LOOK THIS WAY!” is stenciled on the street at every corner. They must have figured it’s easier than cleaning up the mess.    

Lord Edward Street became Dame Street. Dame Street became College Green. I recognized the front gate to Trinity College and The Campanile. The statues of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith were still standing guard.     

Dublin is a relatively young city compared to other European capitals. The Romans didn’t bother invading Ireland, so it doesn’t have as much ancient history as other European cities. People did live here in prehistoric times, but Dublin’s known history starts at 800 AD when Viking raiders settled there.   

  Very little of the Viking culture was preserved. Everything was made of wood. New evidence shows that the Vikings were just not marauding invaders.   

Dublin boomed in the Eighteenth century, but periods of prosperity were rare. For most of its history it was a poverty stricken slum, but Dublin was the capital. The administrative work of the colony was done from here. English rulers lived and partied in Dublin Castle. Dublin was known for being a rough town. Writers described it as being dark and melancholy. I wondered what it had been like in the Sixties or the Seventies of the Twentieth Century.  

Trinity College is a college campus, but it’s a campus that goes back to the late Sixteenth century. Historic buildings surround the College Green. This was familiar territory. The Campanile. Parliament House. Small tents with tables and chairs were set out. A fair welcomed new students. Campus organizations manned the tables and recruited students.      

   

I had seen the Book of Kells twenty years ago, but it was still a thrill to see it again. This would be my first tour of the trip. I had an open ticket so I didn’t have to meet a contact or tour guide. It was early, but there was still a “ten minute wait” to get in. The Book of Kells has been at Trinity College since 1661. The Book of Kells and The Long Room draw half a million visitors a year. 

The explanatory exhibits were interesting, but it was hard to see the real Book of Kells. The area was crowded. Selected pages of the vellum manuscripts are shown in horizontal cases. They aren’t displayed very well. People crowd around them and it’s hard to get a good look at them. Maybe I wouldn’t be satisfied unless they let me unroll the scrolls for myself. 

   

It was great to see The Long Room again. The ultimate old library had taken me by surprise on my first visit twenty years ago. The dark oak stacks go from floor to ceiling. They’re filled with antiquarian books. Ladders reach the top stacks. The Long Room is the “World’s largest single chamber library.” It’s a bookworm’s fantasy. The Long Room was crowded, but people were quiet. Almost reverential. 

Some fun facts from the brochure and web site: The Long Room is 64 meters long. (210 feet.) It holds 200,000 antiquarian texts. Building started in 1712 and it was finished in 1732. 

The Long Room is home to some treasures of Irish history. There is a copy of the 1916 Proclamation of the Irish Republic. The “Brian Boru” harp is in a glass case. It’s the oldest surviving harp “of its kind.” 

In front of each stack is a marble bust. The great brains of Western Civilization are here: Homer, Socrates, Plato, Milton, Newton, Shakespeare. An all-star team.

Stanchions and a velvet rope kept us out of the stacks. What would it be like to browse in here? Most of the volumes are in Greek or Latin. The answer has to be in there somewhere. When was the last time these volumes were opened and read? The Long Room is still a “functional library,” but I had to wonder how that worked. The main student library is somewhere else on campus.    

I squinted, but it was hard to read any book titles. What would happen if I went over the velvet rope? They’re only stanchions. When security showed up I could say that, “I just wanted to see if I have this one at home.” The Long Room is one of my favorite rooms, but it was time to move on and see some more of Dublin. 

The historic campus of Trinity College can’t change that much. I walked along the large perfect lawns. There are renovations and a new building going up on the square, but the campus looked much as I remembered it.   

I made my way back to the Harding Hotel. It was great to have no itinerary on the first day of the trip. I walked on Nassau Street to Kildare Street. There were rows of identical Georgian buildings. The cobblestone streets made it a trip back in time. The area looked more residential, but there were few people walking around.     

On one corner of Kildare Street there is a more modern looking building. It is part of The National Library of Ireland. In a window there’s a large sign: “Ireland in World War I.” This was perfect. It was the centennial of the War to End All Wars. Inside was an exhibit on Ireland’s role in World War I. A story of tragedy piled on top of tragedy.

The centennial of The War to End All Wars was being largely ignored in the United States. I expected to see more media coverage in Europe. There were two hundred thousand Irish volunteers during the war. Thirty-five thousand Irish were killed in battle. This wasn’t an astronomical sum by World War I standards, but the percentage of casualties was high and the effects on the people were devastating.  

Many Irish volunteered in the early days of the war. When the casualty reports came in people started to question what was going on. Fighting for the English again wasn’t a big incentive. There was the theory that if Ireland fought for England that it would be a step in becoming a free state. Did anyone really believe that? World War I brought sweeping changes to Ireland. It weakened England enough that most of Ireland was finally able to break away.

The exhibit was small, but fascinating. Sometimes the best things on a trip are found by chance. I had just happened to walk by. Maybe it touched me more because I had no expectations. The exhibit certainly wasn’t on a “must” list.   

The main building of the National Library of Ireland is a short distance away. It’s set back a little from the street, but its curved Neoclassical portico makes it stand out among the other government buildings of Leinster House. I had to take a look inside. Libraries can be intimidating. There was a Veritas security guard sitting at a reception desk. I played the stupid tourist to break the ice, “Are you open to the public?” Uh, duh. It’s a library.

The reception area had white columns with gold gilt. I went up some marble stairs. At the top was a stained glass window with some of Ireland’s saints. There are Catholic symbols all over Dublin. 

The stairs led to The Main Reading Room. It was larger than I expected. Tall columns were topped by a large dome. No photos are allowed in the Main Reading Room. That made sense. I knew this was the  room were James Joyce and W.B. Yeats studied. What other writers worked in here? It was tempting to browse, but it wasn’t the time to hang out in a library. I was on my way out of the building when I saw the sign: “Yeats: The Life and Works of William Butler Yeats.” I couldn’t leave without taking a look at this. 

I expected a small, dry exhibit of old papers, letters and manuscripts. This was an award winning exhibit. The papers, manuscripts and ephemera were there, but they were marvelously presented. The exhibit really brought Yeats and his work to life.

The exhibit was divided into the periods of Yeats’ life. “Struggles.” “Success.” There were notebooks, tarot cards and original manuscripts of poems. One section had artifacts from his involvement with The Hermetic Society of the Golden Dawn. There was a photo of Madame Blavatsky. This was great Irish mysticism!  

One room had a faux loading dock. A video of Yeats reading his poem “Innisfree” played. It was powerful to hear the man himself reading his poetry.   

The National Museum of Ireland is divided into four buildings. The Archaeology building was a short walk away. It’s in an older building of the Leinster House area. The two story building was once a train station. 

In the center of the main floor was The Treasury. This is a famous collection of Celtic jewelry, especially gold objects. Among the treasures here: The Ardagh Chalice, the Tara Brooch and the Derrynaflan Hoard. 

Upstairs there was a temporary exhibit on the battle of Clantorf. There are weapons and artifacts from the time of the legendary battle. Popular history says that Brian Boru drove the Vikings from Ireland, but it was more complicated than that. 

The battle was part of an Irish Civil War with Vikings and Irish fighting on both sides. Boru’s forces are victorious, but he gets killed in his tent while praying. How Irish. The battle was fought on Good Friday, 1014.     

Guess I still have that look. A woman complained to me about the size of the lettering on the placards. She did have a point. I was tempted to tell her that I would make sure someone got fired for this transgression. A real museum employee overheard her and stepped up to say that the older signs would soon be replaced. 

Walked back on Dame Street towards the Harding Hotel. You can’t miss the bright red exterior of The Olympia Theater. Victorian iron grillwork hangs over the sidewalk. A marquee outside advertised future acts including Sarah Millican, The Live Last Waltz, The Trailer Park Boys and “Classic Deep Purple Live.” This must be the place. I wondered if they needed an experienced House Manager, or maybe an usher. I would have loved to get a look inside, but it was closed. It was too early.

The theater has a long history that goes back to before vaudeville. It was once the Star of Erin Music Hall. Among the performers: Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy, Marcel Marceau and David Bowie!  

The trip was off to a great start, but it was time for a break. The Harding Hotel really was centrally located. It is in one of the oldest parts of Dublin. Fishamble Street was the site of the city’s fish market. It may be Dublin’s oldest street. In the 13th century the area was “adorned with fine restaurants and bars.” The General Post Office was here in 1680. Another candidate for Dublin’s oldest street is Cooper Alley. Part of it used to run through what is now the reception area of the Harding Hotel.

A nearby hotel was once the theater where Handel’s Messiah had its first performance in 1742. The choir from Christ Church sang at the historic premiere.    

  A plaque marks where The Society of the United Irishmen was formed at a meeting in a tavern on Eustace Street. It was here that they planned the Irish Rebellion of 1798.

The room at the Harding was nice. Right across the street were the court building and civil offices. The Dublin City Council meets here. Later I learned that the court building was built on top of Viking ruins. It was a bit of a controversy at the time. 

The lift didn’t work at The Harding. It wasn’t a big inconvenience for me. My room was just a half floor up, but it was an obvious problem for guests who were on a higher floor. The staff scrambled to deal with it.

My room has a poster with the grizzled face of a fisherman. It was advertising an art show by Liam O’Nell at the Dingle Art Gallery. I thought it was an odd image for a hotel room.  

I want to make sure the iPhone is charged up. I had the converter I brought on the 1999 trip. The concierge explained that I had the converter used on the main land of Europe. In Ireland and the UK there was a different kind of converter needed. They kept a supply of them at The Harding. Very thoughtful. Jet lag is a factor and I crash for two and a half hours. 

    

I walked to O’Connell Street. I wanted to get another look at the historic General Post Office, the GPO. It was rush hour. People are polite, but the commute still looks a bit frantic. Passengers line up for busses, but the sidewalks aren’t very large so it looks a bit cramped. When the busses arrive people stay in line, but they do hustle to get on the bus. 

The Post Office was still open. It has a museum now, but it was closed. I’m drawn to this piece of Irish history. The bullet holes from 1916 are still there. 

I got out of the rush hour and stopped in Oscar’s Cafe. I consulted the map for my next move. It was time for Temple Bar. The only question was: what route?

It’s still a city. There are traffic and construction sites. I did see a few people begging, but it wasn’t the blight of Market Street in San Francisco. I was in no rush and chose to walk down a street with few pedestrians, little car traffic and no construction sites. 

The older street led into the main street of the Temple Bar area. To the left was a dark, ominous alley. The backs of old brick buildings lined both sides of the cobblestones. It may have been an old warehouse district. It looked like nothing had changed here for a couple of hundred years. 

You couldn’t miss the cartoonish figures in bright red and white paint. They really stood out in the drab surroundings. I thought it was graffiti at first. Is that guy in a cage? A chain around his neck was held by a dominatrix. There was a doorway to what looked like a nightclub. A sign said that this was Erotica: “A sex club.” It’s a “Private Members Club.”  The door was open, but I didn’t go in. I was headed to the more vanilla area of Temple Bar. This was something I hadn’t expected to see on the streets of Dublin.

It was early on a Wednesday night, but the streets in the Temple Bar area were already getting crowded. I could hear the music from about a block away. It was Temple Bar, the namesake pub where it all started. 

It was on a corner. Bright purple bouganvilla wrapped around the second story of the building. The pub area near the entrance didn’t look that crowded, but the next room was packed. I was going to pass, but they were rocking out to old rebel songs in there. It didn’t take long to get a Guinness. The next room had a small stage. People were jammed in the room near the stage.  

It was traditional Irish music, but the crowded room and the frantic rhythm gave the place more of a Punk Rock atmosphere. People were really into the music. Two young guys were onstage tearing it up. It was packed near the stage. An Irish mosh pit.

It looked like there wasn’t even a place to stand. Two goofs were standing in the doorway to the room with the stage. Maybe they were looking for someone, but they were preventing anyone from getting in or out. I could see that if I got past them there was still room in the back. 

One guy played guitar. His partner, a tall guy with long hair played a button accordion. The guy playing button accordion was outstanding. He made it look easy!  

The crowd was very pumped. They danced and sang along. It was still early on a Wednesday night, but the craic was grand. I heard their last couple of songs. They left the stage to cheers and applause. 

There was another area that was more of a restaurant. It had a glass roof. Large groups sat at tables. It looked like they were socializing after work. I found a spot at a little table that was more out of the fray.  

The Temple Bar area was once owned by Sir William Temple. Temple Bar had been a slum, but that meant low rents for pub owners and shop keepers. In the 1980s there were plans to build a huge bus station that would have eradicated most of the area. The local business owners did not want to move and fought the development. It’s funny how it worked out. What would have been a bus station turned out to be a huge tourist attraction, and maybe the heart of Dublin.   

Temple Bar was the place for bachelor and hen parties. Was it a celebration of the “last night of freedom,” or another excuse for excessive alcohol consumption? Some establishments had tired of the ritual. Signs warned: “No Hen Parties.” Most places were more welcoming.   

The celebrants distinguish themselves by wearing matching hats or tee shirts with the first name of the night’s honoree prominently displayed. It set them apart from the rest of the crowd and made it easier to gather the troops and leave for the next pub stop. Some wore plastic Viking helmets. A little Viking heritage can be scary.

I lingered in the pub area of Temple Bar. A group of middle aged males were taking a break. It looked like a couple of them were just holding on, but they still ordered another round of Guinness. Where to next? They wore mass produced paper party hats that said ““Kiss Me. I’m 50” or “Buy Me a Shot.” Their party decorations were meant for a hen party. A great example of the Irish wit fueled by alcohol. 

The scariest group was some guys dressed up as airline pilots. Brilliant! They reminded me of the guys who wear Elvis outfits to the Bay to Breakers foot race in San Francisco. Something was going to happen with this group tonight. One guy was dressed as a stewardess. Did he draw the short straw or was he the guest of honor?  

I wanted to find a place that wasn’t as intense. Lundy Foot’s looked calmer. I should have one in here just for the name. There was a long bar. The pub furnishings looked new. The place looked recently renovated and redecorated. A band was playing “traditional Irish music” near the back. They did sound good. 

It  was amazing how many people were out and about. Tour guide Paddy McArdle later said that it was “a slow weekend.” Last weekend was the All-Ireland Final and the Pope had just visited the weekend before that. So to them it was a quiet weekend! Some call the Temple Bar area: “The best pub crawl in the world.” 

The Harding Hotel was a short distance from the Temple Bar area. It had an attached restaurant, the Copper Alley Bistro. As mentioned Copper Alley had once run through the lobby of the hotel. It was time for seafood. I had my first cod of the trip. “The Roasted Fillet of Cod. 19.95 Euro.” 

Just steps away on Fishamble Street was Darkey Kelly’s. I do enjoy a bar with some notoriety and a sinister history. A sign outside proudly proclaimed: “Dublin’s Best Irish Music Pub 20016-2017.” In a mural by the doorway a scroll unrolls. It tells the legend of Darkey Kelly: “Who in 1746 was publicly executed for the alleged murder of her child.” The whole story is even more bizarre. The web site Ireland.com tells the story in a post asking if Darkey Kelly was Ireland’s first serial killer?  

Dorcas “Darkey” Kelly was a woman who ran The Maiden Tower brothel at this address. She claimed she was impregnated by one Simon Luttrell. This probably wasn’t a good idea. Lutrell was the Sheriff of Dublin and the First Earl of Carhampton. Kelly asked for financial support from him, and she was “rebuffed.” She gave birth to a baby that mysteriously disappeared.  

Lutrell was a member of the infamous Hellfire Club. Darkey accused Lutrell of taking the baby and sacrificing it “in a Satanic ritual with the Hellfire Club.” The Sheriff had Darkey investigated for murder. During the investigation the bodies of five men were found in a vault in the building. 

Dublin was a rough town. Could this be normal? Were there bodies buried under every brothel?

The baby’s body was never found. Darkey was accused of witchcraft. 

Darkey was “throttled” at Gallows Road, now Baggot Street. This was a cruel punishment reserved for those convicted of witchcraft. The convicted were nearly strangled and then burnt alive. Apparently she was recognized as a victim even back then. Dublin’s prostitutes had a wake for her on Copper Alley. They protested her fate. Apparently things got out of hand. Thirteen prostitutes were arrested for “disorder” and sent to Newgate prison.   

Was Darkey Kelly a victim? What really happened? Dublin could be a very dangerous place back then. It is said that the spirit of Darkey haunts the steps of nearby St. Audoen’s Church. She’s the “Green Lady.” She never enters the church.   

For a place with such a dark tale Darkey Kelly’s was bright and welcoming. Four musicians were onstage near the entrance. They were certainly pros and sounded great. Their old Irish folk songs were a bit tame after the raucous rebel songs at Temple Bar, but the crowd was enjoying it. 

The place was nice and clean. Maybe a little too clean. A pub should have some dust and grime. They were certainly catering to the tourists here, but I could overhear people with brogues. Some of the patrons sounded like they were visiting from other parts of Ireland. They were getting away for a weekend in the big city. The music scene in Dublin is amazing. The bars featuring “Traditional Irish Music” have great sound systems.

September 6. 

An Irish breakfast at the Copper Alley Bistro was a great way to start the day.

My first objective for today was just across the street. Christ Church Cathedral would be the first big church of the 2018 trip, and the first cathedral.   

The church grounds are surrounded by cyclone fencing and tarps. There is ongoing renovation and excavation here. I was fascinated by the footbridge to what is now Dublinia. Parishioners had their own entrance to Christ Church. A security guard made sure that only local worshippers entered here. There was a public entrance at the side of the church. I was among the first customers of the day. It was too early for the guided tour, which cost a little extra. 

 

It was overcast outside. The entrance led to the right side of the church. The interior was dark. Little light came through the stained glass windows. I walked along the nave. Tombs and plaques honored local parishioners from the past.  

There was a sarcophagus near the back of the nave. On top of it was the figure of a knight in black stone. The features of his face had been worn off. A sign said it was the Tomb of Strongbow, the resting place of a chieftain who had lived over a thousand years ago! Legend has it that business deals sealed with a handshake here will succeed. You touch the statue and then shake hands for good luck. That’s why it’s so worn. James Joyce mentions it in Finnegan’s Wake. Strongbow is not buried here, but he is interred in the vault of Christ Church. It didn’t matter to the businessmen looking for good luck. Sometimes in Ireland legend takes on a life of its own.

  

Most of these fun facts are from the Christ Church web site. 

Christ Church is called “the spiritual heart of the city.” The Victorian Neo-Gothic church is not as large as other cathedrals in Europe, but it can match any other church’s history. There’s been a church on this site since 1030. “It’s the earliest surviving structure in the city.” It was built by the first Christianized Danish King, Sitric, also known as Silkenbeard.   

   

Christ Church had a piece of the crib of Jesus. There was a “miraculous speaking cross.” Relics draw pilgrims. Christ Church became a major pilgrimage site.  

There’s an odd relic that isn’t here. The heart of St. Laurence O’Toole was kept in an iron heart shaped box. It looked more like a cage. In March of 2012 it was stolen. Very valuable jewelry and other items that could have been taken were left behind. It was suspected that the thief or thieves would demand a ransom, but no contact was ever made. In early 2018 the heart was found wrapped in plastic in Phoenix Park. 

A small side chapel led to stone steps. I went down the winding stairs to the crypt. It’s the largest crypt in Ireland or England. The crypt is the oldest surviving structure in Dublin.

The ceiling is low and it’s dark, but there are bright lights on points of interest. Two figures in wigs flank the figure of a royal seal at the end of a hallway. There is a short film on the history of Christ Church. 

There’s treasure down here. Christ Church survived the last gasp of England’s Catholic rulers. In 1689 King James attended mass at Christ Church. It would be the last time the Catholic rite was performed here. The tabernacle and candlesticks used for that mass are still here.   

The “Treasures of Christ Church” are displayed behind glass. The nearby Battle of the Boyne changed Ireland. The Protestant King William II gave the church gold communion plate and vessels as an act of thanksgiving for the victory. 

Four mannequins stand at attention. They wear clothes that were used in the TV series “The Tudors.” Next to them is a stockade for the public punishment of miscreants. It looked like a real deterrent to crime. 

After the split from Rome Henry VIII seized monastery land and destroyed churches across Ireland. Christ Church was a popular church among the upper classes. There was a plea to Henry VIII, and he was persuaded to spare it. This makes it one of the rare surviving older Irish churches. It became the Cathedral for the Church of England. The Church did go through some lean years, but it was not destroyed by war like most of the other church buildings of Ireland. It was a rare exception that was never gutted. 

Christ Church’s fortune rose and fell with the religious and business fortunes of Dublin. It deteriorated during years of neglect. The Cathedral was used as a meeting place for businessmen, a market and even a pub.  

It was “heavily restored” from 1871 to 1878. Henry Roe, a wealthy distiller, donated a huge sum to get it done. The architect, G.E. Street, was criticized for losing some of the Church’s medieval character. The exterior was “refaced” and buttresses were added to reinforce the sagging structure. 

I almost missed the glass case that held the preserved remains of Tom and Jerry. The famous cat and rat had been trapped in one of the organ’s pipes. By the time their bodies were found they had been mummified. James Joyce mentions their saga of life and death in Finnegan’s Wake. The macabre glass case fits the setting. 

The building that is now Dublin City Hall was originally The Royal Exchange. The Irish punt was converted to English sterling there. It was the center of business in Dublin.

The main room of Dublin City Hall is under a large dome. It is used for civic events and is popular for weddings. I walked around under the rotunda. The rotunda was designed so that the echo muffled private conversations. It must be a slow day. There are not too many people inside. 

There are statues of four “prominent Dubliners.” Daniel O’Connell. Thomas Drummond. Thomas Osborne Davis. Charles Lucas.

  Thomas Osborne Davis wrote “A Nation Once Again” and “The West Awake.” Two of my Father’s big hits! Davis was one of the founders of the Young Ireland movement. 

Twelve murals that circle the rotunda show the “seminal events” in Ireland’s history. They are frescoes painted from 1914 to 1919. Some of them must have been here during the Easter Uprising. 

A plaque on the side of the City Hall honors the martyrs of the Easter Uprising. City Hall was seized by the rebels and held for twelve hours. It was used as a hospital. Most inside City Hall were women acting as nurses.  

Most Irish didn’t support the rebels at first. The Rising was seen as an inconvenience, especially in Dublin. Daily life was challenging enough without trying to aid a revolution. The executions of the captured rebels were loathsome enough to outrage people and to build sentiment for the next rebellion. 

Dublin has a neighborhood that features antique stores. I turned a corner and there was “Needful Things. Books, Collectibles & Antiques.” I couldn’t resist taking a look inside. There were old books about Ireland. Toby mugs, prints and other odds and ends were well displayed. It was a chance to see Irish antiques.  

  Next door is Some Neck Guitars. Someneckguitars.com. This looked like a very cool place. Guitars, amps and equipment were piled up all over. An electric guitar was wailing while being taken for a test spin. I wondered what local stars get their equipment here. 

Tourism is a huge business for Dublin. Bartenders, waitresses and waiters are always friendly and hustling. It’s the tail end of the tourist season, but there’s still time to make some more money. I know it hasn’t always been this way here, but I didn’t come across any surly bartenders. I was familiar with the tourist bubble after living in San Francisco. The tourist dollar rules.   

In Temple Bar I saw a waiter carrying about twenty pint glasses. He had ten stacked up in each hand. It was quite a balancing act, but when an acquaintance greeted him he stopped. He held the twenty glasses while they talked. He made it look easy.      

I went down Aungier Street. This looked more like the “real” Dublin. There were more homes and old apartment buildings. I came to an old stone wall. It looked historic. The neighborhood aged. The wall led to the back entrance of Dublin Castle. There was a stone entrance gate that looked centuries old. It formed a bit of a cul de sac with the stone wall. There was a bit of a time machine effect.  

On the other side of the stone wall was the garden of Dublin Castle. A perfect lawn was surrounded by the parapets and towers of Dublin Castle. This had been the site of the original “Black Pool” that gave Dublin its name.  

I saw the sign for the Chester Beatty Library. It wasn’t a “must,” but I had noticed it on maps of Dublin. The building looks like a former warehouse or factory that has been renovated. It was built in the Eighteenth century. Just inside the entrance is an open area with a glass ceiling. The Silk Road Cafe looked like a cool place to hang out. There’s no admission charge to the library. 

The Beatty Library (Leabharlann) is more of a museum than a library. Across from the entrance is a small theater that continually shows a video telling us the story of Sir Alfred Chester Beatty, the “King of Copper.” Beatty moved to Dublin in 1950. He had “a love affair with Dublin,” and became Ireland’s first honorary citizen.

  Beatty was already a collector. On a visit to Egypt he began collecting snuff bottles and manuscripts. He started collecting Middle Eastern and Asian art.

The Beatty Library has three stories. Two of them have galleries. There is a Reading Room available, but you must have a reservation or an “arrangement.” The “Arts of the Book” exhibit on the first floor had a fantastic collection of ancient manuscripts in well lit cases. There were different versions of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. 

Beatty bought his first copies of the Qur’an in the bazaars of Egypt in 1914. He built the greatest collection of Qur’ans “in private hands.” 

On a trip to Asia in 1917 he started buying Chinese and Japanese paintings. Then he collected “Turkish and Persian miniatures.” He added to his collection of Islamic manuscripts. 

There were other artifacts: Chinese dragon robes. Japanese woodblock prints. Egyptian papyrus texts. Illuminated Qur’ans.  

The web site says that the Chester Beatty Library has the “earliest known copies of the four gospels and Acts of the Apostles, the letters of St. Paul, the Book of Revelation and various very early Old Testament fragments.”

The Chester Beatty Library is close to Dublin Castle. I wondered how many people went past it, not knowing what they missed. 

A short walk from the Beatty Library there is an entrance to Dublin Castle. I pass the towers and parapet and enter the urban castle.

Dublin Castle is not a very popular place for the Irish. I read later that few locals visit Dublin Castle. It’s still a painful symbol of England’s colonial rule. This is where England did the administrative work of the colony. Many harsh and unpopular decisions were made here. 

King John ordered the building of Dublin Castle in 1204. The natives were restless and the king wanted stone fortifications to protect the treasure there.

Dublin Castle was the city’s prison and became known as “Ireland’s Bastille.” Spiked heads were often displayed to discourage rebellion.

There was a disastrous fire in 1684. The Castle was rebuilt into a Georgian palace. It was the home of the Viceroy and the ceremonial center of government. It was the social center for high society. Balls and banquets were held for the British serving the Empire. The highlight of Dublin’s social life was “The Season.” It lasted for six weeks and ended on St. Patrick’s Day with the Grand Ball in the State Apartments. 

Dublin Castle is a “Museum within a Palace.” The rooms are full of fine furniture, chandeliers, neoclassical statues, clocks and rococo ceilings. 

The Grand Staircase led to the State Apartments. A small brochure served as a  guide book and map. The largest four rooms overlook the old Coach House and the gardens. Upstairs there are a series of lush, royal rooms. The first is the James Connolly Room. It’s believed the seriously wounded martyr was held here after his arrest and before his execution. 

The Apollo Room’s ceiling was brought from a nearby Georgian building during a renovation in the Sixties. 

The State Drawing Room was destroyed by fire in 1941. It was restored.  

The Throne Room (Presence Chamber) has a throne that was set up for George IV’s visit in 1821.    

Among the paintings in the Portrait Gallery are a portrait of Queen Victoria and her consort Prince Albert. There is a portrait done by Sir Anthony Van Dyck, and there are portraits of all the Viceroys that ruled from here. There is a long table set up for a banquet. 

  The Wedgwood Room is a light blue. It’s like being inside a piece of Wedgwood pottery. The Gothic Room is bright and full of religious paintings.

St. Patrick’s Hall is where the presidents of Ireland are inaugurated. The ceiling was painted by Vincenzo Waldré in the 1790s. Banners and hatchment plates of knights at the time of Irish independence still hang on the walls.

Margaret Thatcher stayed at the State Apartments.  

In 1907 the Irish Crown Jewels were stolen from the Castle. They were never found.

Dublin Castle was “handed over” to Michael Collins in January of 1922. Photos of the ceremony hang in the Castle. Everyone looks serious and military, but Collins does look triumphant. What a day that must have been! Viceroy Fitz Alan-Howard mentioned that Collins was seven minutes late for their meeting. Collins answered: “We’ve been waiting over seven hundred years. You can have the extra seven minutes.”

Outside Dublin Castle is a large statue of Justice. She is blindfolded and balancing the scales of justice. The people of Dublin figured out the irony look ago. The statue faces away from Dublin.  

I still had a ticket to the Guinness Storehouse. It’s one of the most popular tourist sites in Europe, but I had my doubts. Even at the last minute I considered blowing it off, but I did have a ticket, and there was that free pint of Guinness. The admission charge was thirty-five Euro, which I thought was steep, but I already had a ticket as part of my trip.      

The Storehouse is in a more industrial area that is a little out of the tourist bubble. The factories and warehouses still have a layer of soot. The exterior of the building is made of old brick, but when you enter it’s a modern glossy tourist attraction of steel and glass. The souvenir shop here is called The Guinness Store. It looks busy. People are spending money here.    

I joined a group of about forty waiting for a short indoctrination. We were given a ticket for a “free” Guinness at The Gravity Bar on the top floor.  

On each floor there were electronic interactive exhibits on brewing and alcohol. It is educational and entertaining. I thought I knew everything about the production and consumption of alcohol. There are waterfalls. Water is important for brewing!      

Guinness advertising always had cool animated humor. One floor had large figures of characters used in the ads. The cartoon figures of the ostrich and the kangaroo came to life in large models. There was a fish on a bicycle. More Irish humor. 

The Gravity Bar has a panoramic view of Dublin. It was already pretty crowded. This was the place for birthdays. There were several groups celebrating. I got my “free” Guinness.   

I waited for the elevator on the way out. I didn’t want to walk through the history of brewing and Guinness again. “The lift” finally shows up and two birthday parties come out of the large lift. About eight of us go in. 

A staff member gets into the elevator. A young woman knows him and they talk about the Gravity Bar. It’s her birthday! A guy in the back quickly speaks up, “It’s my birthday too!” The staff member has to get off before the first floor. The young lady insists that we all raise our hands and form an honor guard for him to walk through during his exit. Other employees see this and are amused.    

I returned by High Street. St. Audoen’s Church was close to the Harding Hotel. I had noticed it on the map. It’s a large church with tall front doors. Unfortunately they were locked.

St. Audoen’s was near the “medieval center of the city.” It’s the oldest parish church in Dublin and it is still used as a parish church. There has been a church here since the Seventh century. The new Neoclassical church opened in 1847. It was once the wealthiest parish in the city. It was the church for the mayor, politicians and successful businessmen.

Next to the old church was a modern building. Stairs went one story below street level to an entrance. This was the Anglican church. There was a desk with two people behind it. A sweet little old lady made sure that I got a proper introduction to St. Audoen. She got me started, but she did leave me on my own.

The “old city walls” are shown in a large case. Parts of the wall go back to Roman times. It’s kind of weird. It was like seeing an old, dusty construction site under glass.

The entrance to St. Anne’s Chapel was on the right. My perspective on “ancient” had been changed on the 2016 trip. This chapel looked around Eighteenth Century. I got a cool picture of a skull carved in the stone wall. The chapel seemed small after Christ Church.

A guy in clerical robes followed me. We were the only ones in the chapel. He kept some distance and tried to look busy. He may have been attending to his duties, but it was obvious he was keeping an eye on me.   

Through a side door were the remains of an old church. This one really looked ancient. There was no roof.    

I didn’t see The Lucky Stone. I don’t think it’s displayed now. 

The church is haunted by “The Green Lady” who has been seen on the steps of the church. Some say it’s the spirit of Darkey Kelly. She never enters the church.  

 

I was really dragging by the time I got back to the Harding Hotel. I took a nap. I was surprised that I woke up after only an hour, and I was ready to go again!      

There would be tours scheduled for the next couple of days. It’s Thursday night. I remembered Rick Steves mentioning that some museums in Dublin stay open on Thursday night. I checked to see if the National Gallery was open. I had gone there on the trip twenty years ago, but I really wanted to go there again. 

The National Gallery was near Trinity College and it was easy to find. It has a modern entrance. The galleries are spacious rooms with large chandeliers. All the masters are represented here. Among the masterpieces: The iconic painting of the Connemara Girl by Augustus Burke. The Rape of Europa: Carlo Maratti. The Descent Into Limbo by a follower of Hieronymus Bosch. The paintings done by Yeat’s father are a big feature. The National Gallery is free!  

It was time to dine and I went back to Lundy Foot’s. Maybe I craved somewhere  familiar and convenient. Another band was playing Irish traditional music. There were appetizers laid out. I was tempted to grab some, but they were meant for a large group of salesmen from Facebook. I was tempted to take some anyway. It was a birthday party for one of the head honchos. They had taken over half the place.   

All the empty tables had a reserved sign. Whatever. I was about to leave when a waiter spotted me. He led me to a small table and removed the Reserved card. The special was Sea Food Chowder. Excellent and inexpensive.  

I walked back along the Liffey. It was a dark view at night. The river was black.  

Darkey Kelley’s was too convenient to pass up. It was crowded. A band with five members were onstage. A tall blonde woman sang.  

A group of six guys had a table near the front. One is wearing a kilt and a wild yellow Afro wig. It’s his birthday and he can do anything he wants. Another one has a tutu on. He keeps going up to the band. He seems to be negotiating. 

The guitar player announces that, “We have our first dancers of the night! Where are you from?” Tutu guy yells: “Birmingham!” The crowd groans. The band plays and we’re treated to a grotesque display of drunken dancing. Two guys join the birthday boy and they do a drunken cancan. They lift the birthday boy up so we can all get a view between his legs. Fortunately he’s wearing some kind of heavy hosiery. It all seems to be in good fun. I have to wonder how these guys will be feeling tomorrow.

Darkey Kelly’s was certainly a rocking spot. The band resumed center stage and played more traditional Irish tunes. The craic was grand.

I overheard some Van Morrison idolatry. There’s a lowered tone when his name is spoken. “Van.” It was like uttering the name of God. “Brown Eyed Girl is the greatest song ever!” I had to be amused. I’d just worked a couple of his shows at the Masonic Auditorium. Van loves playing in the Bay Area.  

“If you have a request, write it on the back of a fifty Euro note and send it up!”

The crowd really got into Molly Malone. That song must be the “Free Bird” of Irish  musicians.  

I had to compare the streets of Dublin to the streets of San Francisco. I don’t see many police. There’s certainly not as many homeless. I was struck by some of the older, grizzled geezers. Their wrinkled and worn faces made them look a hundred years old. 

I had got off to a great start. I was seeing some great things by chance. I was more relaxed on this trip, especially at the beginning. I wasn’t as frantic to see the “big” sights as I was on the 2016 expedition.