DUBLIN--DAY TWO

Irish hotels, guesthouses and many B&B's provided hot pots, instant coffee (decaf and real) and tea (decaf and real) in their rooms.  A few also included surprisingly tasty cookie-like "Breakfast Biscuits."  The best surprise in all that run-up was that much of the instant coffee was very good as well as very welcome first thing in the morning.


At the opposite end of that spectrum, the real breakfast, served an hour or so later introduced us to French press coffee (I warned you we weren't worldly) which definitely provided more ambiance with breakfast than our low-end Keurig at home.  Philosophically speaking, Keurig is a perfect fit with our American helter-skelter, hurry-up, got-an-appointment lifestyle. French press, by contrast, invites lingering and conversation.   I've always known I was an expert lingerer, and so it appeared to me that Ireland would be just perfect.

In preparation for this trip, I'd purchased a set of cards from Chronicle Books entitled:  Ireland--Village Walks.  This day, a Wednesday, we were informally scheduled to walk as much of Dublin (south of the River Liffey) as we could manage.  I pulled the cards for St. Stephens Green, Merrion Square, Kildare Street, Trinity College and Grafton Street.  We should easily cover that by lunch.
  

We began our self-guided tour at nearby St. Stephens Green, surprised to read that The Royal College of Surgeons building we had passed a few times yesterday wasn't simply deteriorating...it was pock-marked with bullets from the 1916 Easter Uprising.  We admired the elegant Shelbourne Hotel and dropped into Dawson Lounge, advertised as the smallest pub in Ireland.  I'm not sure if it is the smallest, but I would wager the stairway descending to it was the most treacherous, although perfect for those crawling out of the pub after a long evening with friends.

From the east side of St. Stephens Green, we walked into Kildare Street to visit the National Museum of Ireland--Archeology Branch.  This visit--serendipitous for us--should be required for everyone at the beginning of a visit to Ireland.  Following a well-organized design, we began about 7000 BCE in the Middle Stone Age, and worked our way forward to the Reformation in the mid-16th century CE.  We became familiar with eras, names, locations, objects, treasures, lifestyles, and etc...that we would review each day of our travels.  That simple unexpected rain shower  created a golden opportunity to visit the National Museum which, in turn, guaranteed that our entire trip would take us over familiar and easily understandable ground.  Priceless!

After a few hours in the National Museum, we strolled on to Merrion Square, described on our tour card as "oozing refined sophistication" and, as we all know, I'm all about oozing sophistication.  Merrion Square has reputedly been one of Dublin's most fashionable addresses for 250 years, and the home of Oscar Wilde and W.B. Yeats among other notables.  We made the obligatory stop at Oscar Wilde's well-visited statue, in which  he looks appropriately dissolute and sassy, as well as someone it might have been fun to know.

 

He's surrounded by short columns on which are engraved many of his more famous quotes..

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As we continued strolling through the Square, searching for a "bog"--slang for toilet--we happened on this scene.  Frankly, I looked for movie cameras thinking this could not be real.  But it was...remember we're oozing sophistication (and cuteness) here.

These little girls ran like little ladies, but with intent, kicked the ball, occasionally flopped on the grass but those adorable  hats never moved from dead center.  I can't imagine they were stapled to their heads (although I also questioned that while watching Will and Kate's wedding).  Perhaps, it's simply a few years of head-control-practice and strong, but unobtrusive, chin straps.

With the increased drip-dropping of  yet another rain shower, we pulled out our umbrella, figured our bearings and exited Merrion Square for Trinity College and The Book of Kells.  We abandoned our "Village Walk" there and joined a tour led by students that was blessedly irreverent while full of fascinating historical facts.  The tour ended at the entry to the Old Library and  its exhibition "Darkness into Light" which, unfortunately, was packed shoulder to shoulder with international tourists jostling for better views of beautiful posters describing the history of illuminated bibles.  The flow funneled from there into an impossibly small dark room which displayed the actual Book of Kells and three other similar manuscripts.  One needn't be rude but, trust me, one will be run over and see nothing if one is not a bit assertive at this point.  "Excuse me", accompanied by a quick elbow seemed to work. 

Conveniently, Trinity College is only steps away from Grafton Street and, although we didn't cover all of our planned itinerary (a daily happening on this visit) it was way past lunch and very close to dinner...definitely time for a stop at O'Neills.

Whoa!!  It appears that one CAN look a bit too eager for a glass of wine.

DUBLIN--DAY ONE

From the beginning, I'd had concerns that Aer Lingus was not allowing enough connection time for us at O'Hare Airport in Chicago.  They'd given us ninety minutes...or, maybe in reality, I'd chosen that flight because it was a bit less expensive than others, while assuming they certainly would not have offered it if it was problematic.   Of course they wouldn't!  Of course...  But barely.  As those of you know (who are a bit more worldly than we) arriving at O'Hare's Terminal One on United (flying as Aer Lingus) only to connect with Aer Lingus (flying as United) means one has to make a mad dash from Terminal One to Terminal Five.  In the process, we have left security, boarded a train, ridden a train, exited a train, re-entered security, stripped off our sweaters, shoes, and belts...all the while explaining once again, "I have an artificial hip and wear an underwire bra," and then--finally-- running to the farthest gate in Terminal Five only to hear, "No, you do NOT have time to go to the Ladies Room."  Ohhhhh, these people will be sorry!  I had chosen Aer Lingus both for its attractive price posted briefly last April, and because I had wanted our Irish experience to begin the second we boarded the official Irish airline in Chicago.   However, despite the fact that Air Lingus charges for wine if you're booked into steerage, they did deliver us safe and sound in Dublin, I have long believed that any landing you can walk away from is a good landing, and so I am ready to forgive all that went before.

Safely in the Dublin airport, we must now gather our luggage, board "Aircoach" and be whisked to our hotel--O'Callaghan Stephens Green.  We accomplished the "gathering" although our bags were the last to tumble  onto the carousel.  We eventually found Aircoach, where we soon realized the address of our hotel was: "At St. Stephens Green."  No street, no lane, no boulevard...simply "At St. Stephens Green."  Unfortunately, St. Stephens Green is larger than a town I once lived in, and it had become increasingly  important to Aircoach that we know which specific stop was ours.  I had thought that might be part of their job description, to know where St. Stephens Green was, but apparently not.  Sensing my heightened level of stress, two very nice people  entered the conversation and each told us exactly where the hotel was and which stop would be closest to it. Unfortunately, although they both seemed to carry some authority, they couldn't agree on the location of O'Callaghan's.  Frustrated, but pleasant, the dispatcher shooed us onto the bus, instructing us to ask the driver...he would know.  Actually, he didn't, but a sweet woman sitting in front of us studied the map, pointed to an intersection, and we quickly exited.

Welcome to Dublin!

Ah...St. Stephens Green--just as advertised!  With only a few wrong turns (there are no--or at most, very few--street signs), we managed to schlep our baggage a few blocks here, a few blocks there, and finally to the doors of O'Callaghans where we quite literally ran into two young men who recognized our Kansas State luggage tags. They were our new best friends for a few minutes but then their car arrived and they were off for a round of golf.  We checked in easily, our room was quite nice--and collapsed!  But, BC was hit with his second wind, and we were off for a neighborhood wander.

Grafton Street--Dublin's always busy pedestrian mall.

Never shy, BC meets Molly Malone at the head of Grafton Street.  Known as the "tart with the cart" she's a buxom girl for sure.

Later we arrived at BC's favorite Dublin pub (O'Neills) where we ended up three nights in a row.  Per Rick Steves, the first night in a pub you're a guest, the second you're a friend.  BC loved that line and tested it often.

BC's new favorite motto...for a few days, anyway.