Musings on Dublin...

(Running really late tonight. So, more from my travel journals)

Dublin Town: Well, I did finally make it Dublin and walk the streets of a city which felt like home. The first day was spent in pubs and my hotel mostly. Grabbed lunch in the best pub we found; massive amounts of food and we were able to watch the all Ireland final. I still can’t believe that Galway won the thing and it is still cool when the team captain leads the fans in song afterwards. Basically, I crashed in the hotel room in the afternoon and watched This Week in Baseball. This is where I found out that: McGwire was nearing 70 homers, the Cubs were in a heated pennant race, and Ripken sat out a game. For such a great vacation I sure missed a lot of memorable sporting events.

Anyway, after pub hopping that night which has been described elsewhere I crashed in the hotel again. Dreamed strange dreams again (yeah, Tina was in it and sitting on my lap for some reason. I mentioned it to her the next day and she tried to convince me that when we got back from the club that night we both went to our separate rooms. At least that is the way we both remember it). The next day was my chance to do all the touristy things in Dublin that I have been dreaming of.

I toured Trinity College and saw the Book of Kells. Trinity College actually looks like a college but I wonder how all of the students deal with the amounts of tourists who invade the campus. It can’t be as bad as the kids in Eton experience but it still must be disconcerting. The Book of Kells is awesome, the amount of detail and artistry put into each page in mind boggling. There is symbolism everywhere on the page and I can just imagine the monks working hour after hour on each small detail. That is the glory behind books, the immense effort that was put into the work over a thousand years ago is still appreciated. Also, walked through the Trinity College Library which is another of those rooms which just make me want to be a writer. Just books from floor to ceiling, aisle after aisle, all hundreds of years old. I love imagining how each one of those books were written by one person, putting his life into each page, and then they are housed together. Writing is one form of immortality, because that is you on the page. It might just be ink and paper but at its best, the essence of the author is captured as well.

Did the round on Grafton street which is the major shopping district. Picked up some more of my little trinkets and my Galway jersey which still looks cool. Hit some music stores where I found some unbelievably expensive cd’s but the coolest thing was finding some Uncle Tupelo albums. Maybe there is some hope for this planet after all. All in all, we probably spent too much time on Grafton street but that is what happens when you travel as a group and not as individuals.

I broke away from the group eventually and made my way down O’Connell Street (with the starry plough on high). This was another instance of walking into a history book. The bullet holes in the pillars of the post office, the statue of Parnell, the memorial statue and reflecting pond. There are very few places where you can walk where a revolution began and even fewer where you can stop in bookstores along the way. I did actually hit the Dublin Writers Museum which is one of those places which could only interest people like me. James Joyce’s typewriter, Samuel Beckett’s phone, and more first editions of novels then you would ever find anywhere else. It tried to explain why Ireland and Dublin is home to such an extraordinary group of writers. I think it is because it is a nation of storytellers and drinkers and for the most part they write like they are just spinning tales in a pub. Well, except for Joyce of course who is much easier read when drunk because that is when he finally makes sense.

On the whole, I could spend days walking the streets of Dublin. There are more things to see and do there than I could ever imagine. Plus, there is always another pub to visit.