Dublin, Part One

I just got my Wicklow Mountain pictures from Thursday downloaded. It was such a beautiful place, but the rain was unbelievable! Poor Eleanor’s feet were blistered from her shoes, so she found herself run around this very Lord of the Rings-like environment as a barefoot hobbit. Mom brought us to a field where she took her favorite picture on her honeymoon. In the picture (and what we saw) there is a large high cross sitting on a little mound of earth and one of its arms is missing. When Braveheart was filmed in this area, they actually put a fake arm on the broken high cross. Due to Eleanor’s hurt feet, Mom took the long walk back to the car and drove back to pick Eleanor and I up. While we waited for her, Eleanor and I sat by a food kiosk, ate a bag of greasy chips, sipped hot drinks, and watched a group of birds fly around and sit at our table with us.







Driving to Dublin was a little hectic, but not nearly as horrible as we had expected. Again, the rain didn’t help. We dropped off the rental car at the airport and took a taxi van to our Comfort Inn, right in the middle of the city.

Yesterday, we went to the National Museum Archeology and History; a place the Forton family would go nuts for. I couldn’t believe how many things were in that place. After more than two hours of walking around the museum, we decided we needed another night in Dublin. Next, we toured the Guinness Storehouse … for more learning. Yes, we learned how the Guinness Draught is made and ended our tour in the Gravity Bar with a free pint (and a free Fanta for Eleanor). This top-story, glass-incased pub has the best view of the whole city.




Leaving as the Storehouse closed, I had to hurry across the city to the Tripod Concert Venue for my long awaited Beirut concert! Mom was a bit worried about letting her twenty year-old daughter run around Dublin on her own, especially with a free pint of Guinness in her system, but we’ve learned this trip that I am a human GPS system and all was well. The only real problem I met was the breaking of my beloved yellow umbrella and the cruelly ironic downpour that followed.

The concert was great. To my luck, another lone American girl stood in line just in front of me and we enjoyed the concert together, talking about what we’ve seen so far (she’s been backpacking all around Ireland, to London, an Paris) and what music we listen to. It was quite obvious that Zach Condon (Mr. Beirut) was thoroughly smashed upon taking the stage, yet he still had the energy to play his trumpet flawlessly and drink another two pints. It was a great experience, going to a concert in Dublin. I felt no anti-American vibes (Zach Condon is from Santa Fe, New Mexico). A young Irish couple asked me and my new-found friend (whom I never got the name of…) if we came all the way to Dublin just for the concert. Everyone was nice, helpful if I had a question, and just there to enjoy the great music. There were two encores from Beirut. In the first he played a long, new song, not yet recorded. And then he came out by himself (without his ten-piece band) and sang Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Thanks to his intoxication and the fact that he’d just learned the song the day before in Paris, Zach needed to pause every couple verses because he couldn’t remember the lyrics. As ridiculous as he was, it was an excellent concert and I’m so glad I could go.





When the concert got out it was about 10 at night and still light out. I walked back, safely, and in time for a bad American movie (Abandon, starring Katie Holmes and Zooey Deschanel (the one who should know better)) and some cheese, English mustard, and fresh bread for dinner.

Today we had to leave our room at the Comfort Inn and move a couple blocks over to the Best Western, because we did decide to stay another night and the Comfort Inn was fully booked. There’s so much still to see in this amazing city, so hopefully we’ll leave for England tomorrow feeling like we’ve done a thorough job.

We're in Ireland

Hello, all! My family and I are finally living our dream. We're on our last leg of touring Ireland with two nights in Dublin. I would have started this blog earlier, but we haven't had much luck in finding cheap internet-access.

Our first flight took off from the Detroit Airport around 10:30 at night, last week Thursday, spanning seven confusing hours. British Airways has an in-flight movie system installed into the back of each head rest, in which you can choose what movie you want to watch and when you want to watch it. I watched Godsford Park (trying to take in one more British film before landing, though I admit I dosed even with Clive Owen in front of me)m while more watched Children of Men (more Clive) and Eleanor watched ... I can't remember. Sadly, I wasn't seated anywhere near Mom and Eleanor, soI felt like I was making the flight on my own. I didn't get to see them until we landed (though, I did visit them briefly at their seats twice). We landed in Heathrow Airport around 10 in the morning (5 for us), queued through customs, and boarded our plane to Shannon, Ireland. To my amazement (and that of the rest of the passangers) our plane was delayed for nearly three hours. To make matters worse, we had already been seated when the delays piled up, so all we could do was sit and wait. Eventually, we arrived in Shannon. Budget Car Rental gave us a gastly large car (I feel it was my fault for having such a large suitcase) with impossible-to-find windshield wipers (of course, it was raining when we left the airport). Upon leaving the airport, Mom immediately turned onto the wrong side of the road, corrected herself, and we made our way to the ever-foreign Travelogue.

The next day we went explored Limerick, home of Frank McCourt (Angela's Ashes). As squalor as the town's reputation, our only problem with it was the dangers of car parks and busy one-way streets. We ran around King John's Castle, St. Mary's Cathedral, and bought some pastries and brown bread (yum!) at the day's market.




Next stop was Cashel for The Rock, an ancient cathedral ruin. It was absolutely gorgeous with giant, ornate crosses marking the graves of town descendants, large crows soaring through the sky, and an excellent view of the city below (along with the circus tent in the distant field). We stayed in our first B&B in town, called the Cashel Town Bed & Breakfast. Our large room was decorated with odd quotes from a famous Irish book series.




Sunday, we toured down very narrow, twisting roads across The Burren, a vast area of old stone-walled fields and ringforts dating back 6,000 years. We visited the Burren Purfumery, maker of pure organic perfumes. I bought myself a Rosewater, while Mom bought some Lavender Oil. The Perfumery was covered in vines of roses and our teas at the pink picnic set made me feel like Alice in Wonderland.




Monday, we went to the Cliffs of Mohr. Mom said that when she and Dad went on their honeymoon, only a few other people were at the cliffs along with a couple of goats. There was only a small fence, keeping viewers from the edge. Now, the area is teeming with tourists, shops are dug into the nearby hill, men mow the grass rather than goats, and a thick, long wall braces the cliffs. Though the commercialism was overwhelming (like that of Niagara Falls), the view was incredible. Afterwards, Mom stumbled upon an old cemetery she and Dad went to. Our next stop was Galway, where we really just window-shopped and checked our email. Though, the city does make for a great walk.




Tuesday was a long day of driving through unbelievable mountain ranges in heavily Gaelic country, only to end up in the incredibly tourist-driven town of Westport.




Wednesday, one could say we risked our lives. At 10:30 in the morning we begin our trek up Croagh Patrick, the 734 meter Holy Mountain of Ireland. Though thousands of people climb this mountain barefoot year-round, our little family was seriously tested in our white trainers. The first part of the journey went relatively smooth with a calm, scenic ascent between lust, green vegetation and the shaggy sheep that feed on it. Then things became rockier. Then it became steeper. The last hour of our climb truly and honestly tested our faith in many shapes and forms. The numerous loose rocks and increasingly steep terrain nearly forced us to give up on our mission and turn around. Thanks to the handful of Irish climbers (all certainly past their sixties!) who spoke with us on the dangerous slope about their many climbs (one many said he’d climbed the mountain 29 times!) and gave us tips on making our way, we built up the courage and will to carry on. Forty-some minutes later we arrived at the windy top, the old white chapel covered in fog (we were in a cloud, after all). Just after getting our picture taken at the top by a kind young couple, we all huddled in a small doorway as a brief rainstorm hit the mountaintop. Luckily and surprisingly, the climb down went smoother than the climb up, but we still finished our journey in a whopping five hours!




Today, on our way to Dublin, we drove through the misty Wicklow Mountains (very Lord of the Rings) and walked around the ancient, monastic city of Glendalough (where parts of Braveheart and Highlander were filmed). And now, we’re in Dublin! The Comfort Inn is gorgeous, at least compared to the strange room we had over a bar, last night in Enfield. Tomorrow we will hopefully go to the National Archeology and History Museum, look at all the beautiful, old cathedrals and homes on Dame Street, and shop around the very popular Parnell Square. In addition, I have a Beirut concert to attend, that night, at the Tripod. After that, it’s off to England!