After everyone else decided to get up, and breakfast was had by all, we set out on a "Hop On, Hop Off" bus tour of the city. It was definitely a good way to get around and still be able to see everything that you wanted to see. A bunch of us got off at Saint Stephen's Green, a lovely park not too far from the main city center, and spent a while walking around, looking at the flowers and trees, and admiring the ponds. Very nice, and quite relaxing. We had to cut our visit a little short, though, in order to hop another bus and go to the Kilmainham Gaol - which, for some reason that none of us can quite figure out, our study abroad program was paying for us to tour. While not something that I probably would have chosen to see on my own, the jail was certainly interesting; it was first built in 1796 and served as a jailhouse for Irish criminals and political prisoners up until the Irish Civil War. Some of the jail's more famous former inhabitants (or death-sentence victims) include Henry Joy McCracken; Joseph Plunkett, Patrick Pearse, and James Connolly (influential leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising); and Éamon de Valera (future Prime Minister and President of the Republic of Ireland). Certainly an interesting, though rather depressing tour.
Well, after the jail, most of the study abroad group and I parted ways. You see, there is a certain beer that's made in Ireland, rather famous, really, called "Guinness." Perhaps you've heard of it? Well, Mr. Arthur Guinness, the creator of said beer, built his St. James' Gate Brewery (aka the Guinness Storehouse) in Dublin, where it continues to pump out 3 million pints of the stuff every day (as the bus driver said, "We do our best to drink every last one"). In addition to its colossal output, the St. James' Gate Brewery has also become a major tourist attraction - which I'm sure that the free pint at the end of the tour has absolutely nothing to do with. For some of us, however, beer just isn't all that great. The one time that I tried a bit of Guinness, it tasted like burnt bread (or something...) mixed with a large helping of evil. So the prospect of touring the factory (where they have to keep the evil in specially sealed vats, no doubt) just wasn't all that appealing. So, to make a long story short, just about everyone went to the Guinness storehouse. Which left me and two others to go on to Phoenix Park.
Phoenix Park, for those unfamiliar with Dublin, is enormous. There's simply no other word to describe it. It's everything that you ever wanted in a park: there are numerous sports fields, plenty of wide open space, walking paths, trees, flowers, a zoo, the American ambassador's residence, and the Áras an Uachtaráin (the residence of the President of Ireland). Yup. I bet you always wanted a park that had the president's house in it. There's also an enormous cross that was erected for Pope John Paul II's visit to Dublin in 1979. All in all, it was an amazing place, but it was impossible to see everything without canceling the rest of the afternoon. It was a tempting offer, though...
Next on the agenda was the Garden of Remembrance. I don't have much to say about it. For now, at least. By this point in the afternoon, I was a bit tired. And most of you, I think, know what I like to do when I'm tired. For those of you who don't, no; the answer is not sleep. Freya, Danielle, and Christine know the answer... Unfortunately, since the Motley happened to be about 4000 miles away, I had to settle for coffee that was less good and more expensive. But it was coffee, nonetheless.
Once the caffeine jones had been sufficiently satiated, I proceeded to walk to the National Gallery, where I spent the rest of the afternoon. It was grand! Almost like being back in SoCal at the Huntington. Difficult to say which is better, of course. I saw a great many fabulous painting, including "The Cottage Girl" by Thomas Gainsborough, a painting that I studied in the great Professor Warner's "Literature and the Visual Arts" class. Other highlights were some paintings by Tomas Roberts (I think they were a set, since they were all of the Lucan House in Demesne), a couple of paintings by Monet, some works by Claude Lorrain, and a painting by one of my all-time favorites, the late, great Mr. John Constable. In short, put me in an art gallery or museum, and I have a self-perpetuating source of entertainment.
That was it for the site-seeing, sadly enough. After dinner, though, some friends and I went on a quest for some good Irish traditional music, which, being in Ireland, was surprisingly difficult to find. The first place we went would have been successful (we got there just as the singer was finishing up my title-song "The Wild Rover"), but it was packed to the gills and we couldn't get in! From there, the quest went downhill for a while, until we finally found a little place with live music that wasn't of the annoying dance/DJ variety. We got inside just as the band was finishing a song, and eagerly awaited their next number, which turned out to be.... "Leaving on a Jet Plane" by John Denver. Oh, no! This wasn't Irish traditional music! Oh, but it was... after that they got around to playing "Whiskey in the Jar" and some other songs, finally ending with "Country Road" and playing Van Morrison's "Brown-Eyed Girl" as their finale. Phew!
So, here's a little video clip that I took of the band playing "Whiskey in the Jar." Sorry it's only about 10 seconds... I didn't really know how much space I had left on my camera memory card, so I decided to cut it a little short.
And that was Saturday in Dublin! Pretty exciting, eh?
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