Yes, yes, I know I am two days behind. We arrived in Amsterdam yesterday and are having a great time. I promise I will upload pictures and tell all about what we did, what we saw, what we ate. It is all good!
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
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Sunday, June 22, 2014
Dublin day 6: 11,158 steps so far
Another glorious warm sunny day here on the Costa del Dublin. Temperatures up around a blistering 20, people out in their shorts and bikini tops sunbathing. Instead of staying in the big city we opted for a day trip to Howth, ostensibly in search of Dublin Bay Prawns. We began with a huge hotel breakfast. Egg, black and white pudding, roasted potatoes, bacon, sausage, grilled tomato and mushroom, lovely whole meal soda bread with marmalade, a small bowl of prunes, mixed berries and watermelon, and good coffee. And cranberry juice.
We waddled to Pearse Station, stopping in at Sweny the chemist/Joyce museum to talk about Bloom's purchase there of a bar of lemon soap. The man behind the counter talked about the Martello tower and said Joyce had spent one night there. We didn't want to argue with him, but it was actually six nights. At the station we waited for less than half an hour for the train to Howth. We saw many fellow map-walkers on the way, many on the train. There are many foreign accents and foreign languages. It seems other tourists had the same idea.
The train came, we boarded. Lovely modern trains, they are, with big windows for admiring the views. Those views were mainly a pretty green suburbia, and occasional glimpses of Dublin Bay.
It took about half an hour and we were there. Howth is a very pretty fishing village on a peninsula on the northern tip of the great Dublin Bay, and it was jammed with sun-seekers, day-trippers, tourists, children and dogs. The shopkeepers were thrilled with this weather which we Australians just take for granted every day. Here they get maybe 14 of these sunny warm days a year.
We walked up one of the piers, looked at the produce in a couple of fish shops, admired the seal begging food and making up to the tourists, and looked out over the bay.
There was a little trolley tram for tourists, which we are, so we rode it on a very short loop around to Howth Castle. The patter was informative and enjoyable but it ended with possibly the worst joke of the trip. Q: what is blue and fluffy. A: blue fluff. Groan. Definitely the worst joke of the trip. A few snaps of the castle:
It is a lovely little village, and has a couple of Martello towers of its own. They are dotted all along this coast.
The only trouble with the huge hotel breakfast was that even by 2.00pm we were in no mood to eat anything. There was a market selling a variety of goodies, so we bought two small focaccia pizza rolls, a piece of raspberry house cake and a piece of chester cake. We brought those back to the hotel with us for late afternoon dinner. We can't eat anything else, so the prawns in Dublin Bay were safe from us. Everyone else, however, was eating. There were a zillion restaurants, food outlets, pubs, all thronged with people. The air was redolent with the smell of fish and chips and vinegar.
Our return was also on the multilingual train. German, French, Italian. I noted that the train stations were announced both in English and Irish. All the signs include both English and Irish. We hear no Irish spoken (that we can recognise) but the government is making a huge effort, it seems, to reinstate Irish as a living and official language.
We also noted with amazement that there is free wifi on the trains so, we could post our all-important status on Facebook. Things are so different from my trip in 1971, in terms of the number of mapwalkers and the amazing connectivity we all take so much for granted.
Back to our hotel to relax and to pack for our travels tomorrow. Back to Amsterdam. Farewell Dublin. We have had such a great time. And I am now 15% through Ulysses, with time off last night to read a couple of The Dubliners. An Encounter, and The Dead.
We waddled to Pearse Station, stopping in at Sweny the chemist/Joyce museum to talk about Bloom's purchase there of a bar of lemon soap. The man behind the counter talked about the Martello tower and said Joyce had spent one night there. We didn't want to argue with him, but it was actually six nights. At the station we waited for less than half an hour for the train to Howth. We saw many fellow map-walkers on the way, many on the train. There are many foreign accents and foreign languages. It seems other tourists had the same idea.
The train came, we boarded. Lovely modern trains, they are, with big windows for admiring the views. Those views were mainly a pretty green suburbia, and occasional glimpses of Dublin Bay.
It took about half an hour and we were there. Howth is a very pretty fishing village on a peninsula on the northern tip of the great Dublin Bay, and it was jammed with sun-seekers, day-trippers, tourists, children and dogs. The shopkeepers were thrilled with this weather which we Australians just take for granted every day. Here they get maybe 14 of these sunny warm days a year.
It is a lovely little village, and has a couple of Martello towers of its own. They are dotted all along this coast.
The only trouble with the huge hotel breakfast was that even by 2.00pm we were in no mood to eat anything. There was a market selling a variety of goodies, so we bought two small focaccia pizza rolls, a piece of raspberry house cake and a piece of chester cake. We brought those back to the hotel with us for late afternoon dinner. We can't eat anything else, so the prawns in Dublin Bay were safe from us. Everyone else, however, was eating. There were a zillion restaurants, food outlets, pubs, all thronged with people. The air was redolent with the smell of fish and chips and vinegar.
Our return was also on the multilingual train. German, French, Italian. I noted that the train stations were announced both in English and Irish. All the signs include both English and Irish. We hear no Irish spoken (that we can recognise) but the government is making a huge effort, it seems, to reinstate Irish as a living and official language.
We also noted with amazement that there is free wifi on the trains so, we could post our all-important status on Facebook. Things are so different from my trip in 1971, in terms of the number of mapwalkers and the amazing connectivity we all take so much for granted.
Back to our hotel to relax and to pack for our travels tomorrow. Back to Amsterdam. Farewell Dublin. We have had such a great time. And I am now 15% through Ulysses, with time off last night to read a couple of The Dubliners. An Encounter, and The Dead.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Dublin day 5: 8152 steps
Today we had scheduled a walking tour from the James Joyce Centre as we continue to view Dublin through Joyce-coloured glasses. After a substantial breakfast we took a taxi here, on the north side of the Liffey.
It is in a Georgian part of the city, with rows of red brick homes, gaily painted doors with columns and lovely lead light above, and spilling flower boxes.
Our tour guide arrived bearing extremely well thumbed, post-it noted and highlighted copies of Ulysses and Dubliners. John has a PhD in literature and was both informative and entertaining. He obviously loves Joyce and conveyed his enthusiasm to us. We walked around Joycean locales. It was more of a standing-around tour than a walking tour, so our step count was not high. When we returned from the tour we took the time to go through the Centre. What a lovely home it must have been, with its wide polished floorboards, decorative plasterwork, ornate ceilings, and lovely light-filled rooms. I seem to be continuing my door theme of a trip to Italy years ago, but these doors truly are lovely.
This door is the original door of 7 Eccles Street, relocated to the Centre as No. 7 is no longer there:
Our tour took us past the Gresham Hotel, where sister Gwen and I stayed for one night all those years ago, so we went in and looked around. As I remember, our room was not very grand at all.
The whole of Dublin is a construction zone. The roads are all dug up everywhere, buildings all over the city are shrouded in scaffolding and netting. The economy must be picking up.
There are some lovely old buildings, so it is great that they are being restored.
At the end of our tour we walked back to the Mackintosh shop where we each persuaded the other to buy a coat. Thank heavens for the Irish economy and our reputations as consumers. We bought some sandwiches at M&S for eats, and went back to our room to relax. I did some drawing - a colourful view of rom our room, and some knitting.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Dublin day 4: 14,286 steps (10 kms)
A leisurely start with breakfast in our room. Bread roll, Red Leicester cheese, cherries and blueberries. Illy coffee. We met Michael's co-author Tom and his partner Simon downstairs and went to the Brick Alley coffee shop. Simon impressed us all by asking for (and getting) a triple shot cappuccino. When we parted company Michael and I walked along to Kildare Street. I wanted Michael to check out the cardigan at Cleo, which he did. Very handsome, and too heavy for Sydney. We failed at consuming again. We had decided to visit Sandycove and the Martello Tower there where Joyce stayed for six nights before being thrown out, and where the first chapter of Ulysses is set. The DART train was our chosen mode of transport so we headed to Pearse Station.
The train took us around Dublin Bay to Sandycove, we got off and walked down to the waterfront.
It was a lovely warm day and although not what I would call beach weather, the locals obviously thought it was. The smell was rich and briny and seaweedy.
And I am sure there is a seal on that rock on the right.
The tower contains a Joyce museum which was very nicely done. A set of precipitous stone spiral steps led up to the round room in the middle, and more to the very top. A fine view. We had jackets on because we think anything below 20 is freezing, but we were too warm in them.
The DART brought us back to Pearse Station and we walked back to the hotel where we ate the rest of the bread and cheese, some sliced tomato, and drank elderflower presse.
On our way to the hotel when we first arrived our taxi driver pointed out Leo Burdock, said to be the best fish and chip shop in Dublin. We thought we might try it, but many online reviews suggested it was not terrific any more. Instead we sauntered down to Temple Bar and found a restaurant serving fish and chips. It was OK, the fish a bit dry and the batter rather too present. But it was quiet and enjoyable.
Tomorrow we are going on a Joyce walking tour. I am now 11% through Ulysses. Time now to settle to some peaceful knitting.
Dublin Day 3: 15,317 steps
The day started before six again, and this time we knew there was not going to be breakfast out there until later. I made coffee (we always travel with Illy and a couple of in-cup filters) and we ate cherries and blueberries and pink lady apples. That will tide us over. Michael didn't want to go far as today was his conference day. After showers and coffee went out to a nearby shopping mall, the St. Stephen's Green, where Michael had more coffee and a croissant, I had a scone with jam. He went back to his conference duties, and I went out to entertain myself. While at the Museum yesterday I missed seeing the bog bodies, so I decided to go back. I also wanted some photos of the wonderful building, particularly the tiled door surrounds. It being too early for the Musum to be open yet, I went for a stroll in St. stephen's Green. Rather different from our local St.Stephen's, it was quiet and peaceful. Some lovely flowers, and a nice memorial to women's emancipation.
From there I walked up Kildare Street and couldn't resist popping in to Cleo's, a knitting and weaving shop. Beautiful goods, but I truly don't need any more thick cardigans or woolly shawls. Sigh. Then across the street to the Museum, where I did get some pictures of the tiled door surrounds, and I did see the bog bodies and thought about how they were alive and young once.
I wanted to see the Museum of Decorative Arts, and it seemed too far to walk so I hopped onto the green tourist bus again, as my ticket was still valid. It took me around the city again, with all the same patter. Example 1: the man who invented the crossword puzzle is buried here - two across and three down. Example 2: the man who came up with the hokey pokey is buried here. It took a long time to bury him. They put his left foot in......
I finally made it to the Collins Barracks where the museum is housed. I wasn't disappointed. Wonderful place. I didn't see enough lace, but some. I wanted to see Irish Crochet as it is very distinctive. A terrific display of What We Wore. Some lovely Irish cottage furniture. A great location.
I couldn't face more patter on the roundabout bus trip back, so I walked back to the hotel.
Across the James Joyce Bridge. Past James Joyce House of the Dead. My goodness, this city adores JJ. If you had no interest you might be forgiven for thinking there is rather too much of him. I am 8% through Ulysses so am immersed.
I rendezvoused with Michael who was pleased with his conferencing, mainly that it was over. We went for another stroll around town, and the park. I tried to persuade him to go to Cleos to buy a €400 jacket/cardigan but he was reluctant. We had soup and sandwich at Peter's pub, and a cup of tea. We went to the Mackintosh shop and looked at superb raincoats. Michael could be persuaded, maybe. If the sleeves are long enough. He will ponder that question later. We returned to our room and rested for the afternoon.
In the evening we had tickets for a play called Moll, at the Gaiety Theatre. Our seats were right up the top, in this wonderful old theatre. The seats, however, must have been designed not long after the Irish Famine and Michael had a time getting in and out of them. In economy class air seats he often removes the magazine to give that extra sliver of leg room. This time it was his coat and everything in his pockets. It was a fun play, quintessentially Irish. We missed a lot of the dialogue, being colloquial Irish, but the ladies behind us got every joke, every nuance, and cackled loudly. It was great. The story was of three priests and their housekeeper, the eponymous Moll. Later the bishop appeared, played by Father Ted. A much loved actor, judging by the applause greeting his entry.
Home by 9.45. A quick snack of some salad we had bought earlier in the day. Lights out around eleven. We are adjusting.
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