Dublin (Book of Kells, Kilmainham Gaol)
Breakfast at the hotel was good, served by a very efficient and polite gentleman. We both had full Irish breakfasts which was more than either of us could finish.
We headed out on foot across the River Liffey to Trinity College and the Book of Kells exhibit.
We were impressed by the Book of Kells exhibit once we got the audio guides to work. There were a number of good visual displays giving background on the book, its history, significance and artistry. The book itself was quite small and the page being shown that day rather nondescript but the overall exhibit was well worth seeing.
The Long Room library was even more impressive even though it was mostly emptied of books for maintenance. But as they pointed out, it was a once in a lifetime view of the library. I enjoyed seeing the Gaia globe spinning but couldn’t help feel it was out of place. Brian Boru’s harp, on the other hand, the national symbol of Ireland and Guinness, stood in a rather nondescript display case.
The library is reputed to be an inspiration for the Hogwarts Library in Harry Potter (and I repeated that myth to Barb on site) but I’ve learned that the true inspiration (and filming location) was the Bodleian Library in Oxford – which I should have remembered since we visited it the year before.
After the tour and requisite gift shop visit — some good bookmarks and a selection of very nice other goods that were more expensive than we wanted — we investigated the group of tables that had popped up in the courtyard of Trinity College. It was Student Club Day! Barb enjoyed kibitzing with a number of the clubs, especially the rowing club.
While she did that, I tried to figure out how to use the bus transit card Dan had given us to get to Kilmainham Gaol later in the afternoon. I found that the card was in negative territory so I got it topped up with 5 Euros at a convenience shop at the college. I felt a small sense of accomplishment.
We did some shopping near Grafton Street. Barb got an Aran sweater for one of her friends. I got a Brian Boru cap that I hoped would last a good while.
We had a bit of time to kill so we headed back to the hotel to drop off our shopping, then headed back out to catch a bus to Kilmainham Gaol. We caught the bus easily enough but could not figure out how to pay two fares on the card. I ended up just riding and no one seemed to mind…but I felt a little guilty.
We arrived at the Gaol about an hour ahead of our 1:45 tour. We were pointed to the gift shop and the museum to kill time. We actually found some nice gifts in the shop — a Book of Kells coloring book for Emmy, a Where’s Larry knockoff of Where’s Waldo for Larry and a nice St. Patrick’s bookmark for Betsy P.
We went into the museum from the back door which meant we missed out on whatever flow the museum designers had intended. Barb and I went our separate ways but we were equally confused by the long history of the jail, its role in the 1916 Easter Rising and the later Irish Revolution. It was a most confusing time with multiple failed independence attempts before being actually declared in 1919…prompting war with Britain for two more years before devolving into Civil War in 1922. It took us several more days and other museum visits to begin to wrap our heads around the complex sequence of events and we still haven’t really got it sorted out. I’m not sure the Irish have entirely either.
The tour started on time with a very enthusiastic young guide, Luke. He led our group of 30 or so folks through the paces, easily convincing us that the jail was not a place any of us would want to inhabit. He eventually led us into the great room which has become famous in various films, including Paddington 2 as Barb blurted out before Luke could build up to it.
Luke then led us outside for the sad story of the firing squad deaths of the 14 men linked to the Easter Rising. Their revolt failed quickly, but their summary deaths turned the tide of public opinion and led to independence…though in a still twisted and convoluted path. It’s a murky myth of national origin the Irish state has glommed onto. We were still confused.
We caught a different bus back downtown, but not before Barb tripped and fell on the way to the bus stop, a scary moment and hopefully not a portent of things to come. This time I didn’t try to buzz us both on the bus with our card. I just paid for Barb and strode confidently onto the bus myself. It worked fine.
We bussed directly toward dinner at Murray’s Bar and Grill which offered a two-for-one deal based on our Hop On Hop Off ticket. We arrived shortly before the offer expired at 4pm. The hostess seemed to anticipate us, pegging us for tourists (did my hat give it away?) and offering us the special 2-for-1 menu. We ended up with beef stew for Barb, Irish (lamb) stew for me along with tea and a proper Guinness. The meal was little better than adequate but filling.
We stopped briefly at the General Post Office to check on the museum hours. We needed more information about the Uprising but would have to save it until the next day. We noticed a crew setting up a stage in the Post Office for a performance later in the evening. I resolved to return later.
We were back in the room by 6pm and Barb was in for the evening. I took a little rest then headed out to see what I could find. I went back to the Post Office and saw the short instrumental performance honoring four Irish singers including Sinead O’Connor. The septet — a string quartet supplemented with guitar and pipes players — did a reverent, almost haunting version of “No One Compares 2 U.” The famous photo of Sinead used for the stamp was prominently displayed, adding to the atmospherics.
I walked across the river to the Temple Bar district and wandered around taking in the Friday night scene. It was reminiscent of Bourbon Street or Nashville with a few too many bars featuring would-be singing guitar players doing soft rock standards from the 70s and 80s. I found nothing approaching traditional Irish music despite the signs outside a few of the places. I also didn’t find anything I wanted to eat.
I did stumble into an exhibit on the Nobel winning poet Seamus Heaney which pleasantly killed a few quiet minutes though without any particular artistic revelation for me, philistine that I am.
I got back to the room before 9pm to write up notes and have a whisky. Barb was already well conked out. I made it past 11 when it was lights out for us both.
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