Dublin
Our flight arrived early in the morning on August 5th and, after a rough night where Aer Lingus left the fluorescent lights on the entire six hours, we fortified ourselves with scrambled egg and toast and hit the streets of Dublin. This is a detail from the monument to Daniel O'Connell on O'Connell Street, not far from our hostel. Please notice the rain on her arm. Constant precipitation seems to be a theme in Ireland.
Across the River Liffey is something called the Royal Liver Assurance. Given how much the Irish drink, I found this sign apropos. 
We wandered our way over to Trinity College, keeper of the Book of Kells. This is the campanile.
And some other random building (possibly in the corridor by the Samuel Beckett Centre).
Carroll's is a gift shop chain that sells some of the most obnoxiously Irish souvenirs I have ever seen in my life. They have several locations throughout the city if you need to get a plush green hat or forty-seven leprechauns of varying size.
We accidentally found St. Patrick's Cathedral while trying to get to Dublin Castle. Their lovely gardens had marigolds and a small memorial to Samuel Beckett. Fiona Shaw's "Happy Days" had also been playing at the Abbey Theater. Stupid dead Beckett, following me around with his inscrutable existential drama. 
We finally found Dublin Castle (phew!) across the street from a fantastic little pastry shop, the Queen of Tarts. Our extremely well appointed tour guide (who had some great peep-toe saddle shoe pumps, not at all appropriate for walking around a castle all day) showed us some of the formal chambers and explained that the original castle was burned nearly to the ground in the 1600s. Crown jewels were also stolen from the castle in 1907 and are still at large. £1000 reward for the finder, in case you see it on Ebay.
We finished off the night with our first pints of Guinness and fish and chips at Brazenhead Irish Pub, purportedly the oldest pub in Ireland. 
If you ever find yourself at the Globetrotter's Hostel by Busaras in Dublin, try to book yourself in Room 420 (and no, it's not what you're thinking). It's a six-bed female dorm that is actually part of the Townhouse Hotel next door. Although finding the room involves climbing through a little-used part of the building, the place is a lovely little garret apartment with a kitchenette, TV, couch, and closet. And nary a bunk bed in sight. And the Irish breakfast in the morning is a definite plus.
Across the River Liffey is something called the Royal Liver Assurance. Given how much the Irish drink, I found this sign apropos. 
We wandered our way over to Trinity College, keeper of the Book of Kells. This is the campanile.
And some other random building (possibly in the corridor by the Samuel Beckett Centre).
Carroll's is a gift shop chain that sells some of the most obnoxiously Irish souvenirs I have ever seen in my life. They have several locations throughout the city if you need to get a plush green hat or forty-seven leprechauns of varying size.
We accidentally found St. Patrick's Cathedral while trying to get to Dublin Castle. Their lovely gardens had marigolds and a small memorial to Samuel Beckett. Fiona Shaw's "Happy Days" had also been playing at the Abbey Theater. Stupid dead Beckett, following me around with his inscrutable existential drama. 
We finally found Dublin Castle (phew!) across the street from a fantastic little pastry shop, the Queen of Tarts. Our extremely well appointed tour guide (who had some great peep-toe saddle shoe pumps, not at all appropriate for walking around a castle all day) showed us some of the formal chambers and explained that the original castle was burned nearly to the ground in the 1600s. Crown jewels were also stolen from the castle in 1907 and are still at large. £1000 reward for the finder, in case you see it on Ebay.
We finished off the night with our first pints of Guinness and fish and chips at Brazenhead Irish Pub, purportedly the oldest pub in Ireland. 
If you ever find yourself at the Globetrotter's Hostel by Busaras in Dublin, try to book yourself in Room 420 (and no, it's not what you're thinking). It's a six-bed female dorm that is actually part of the Townhouse Hotel next door. Although finding the room involves climbing through a little-used part of the building, the place is a lovely little garret apartment with a kitchenette, TV, couch, and closet. And nary a bunk bed in sight. And the Irish breakfast in the morning is a definite plus.
posted by Amy at
11:05 AM
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