Parents, Dublin, and Trips Rhyming with 'A'

Monday

As promised in the last update, my parents and I visited the Old Jameson Distillery and the Guinness Storehouse last Monday. The latter presents a better experience for the comparable ticket price (upwards of 11 euro), with my discussion of its merits found earlier in the blog. Still, if you arrive for an early tour at the Distillery, you may have an opportunity to enlist as a whiskey taste tester (only eight per tour).

Since we set out for Jameson immediately after a filling buffet breakfast at the Shelbourne we arrived in time for the 11am tour - not necessarily  prime whiskey drinking time - and both my dad and I made the shortlist. So following the somewhat lackluster trip down distillery lane, we received shots of Jack Daniels, Johnny Walker, and Jameson (along with the guaranteed glass of Jameson with your ticket). Perhaps it was the location or the indoctrination, but the initial bite of Jack Daniels and the smoky flavoring of Johnny Walker left me favoring the smooth taste of Jameson.

After our trip through the Guinness Storehouse, where we enjoyed our pints in the overcrowded gravity bar, we set out in haste for Kilmainham Gaol. With a little bit of luck - perhaps from tapping the Jameson mill stone three times - we arrived a minute before the final tour. Although I had visited the gaol before, a different guide provided additional anecdotes that made the second trip worthwhile. In particular, he discussed many of the famed prisoners of the facility - whose names are engraved in plaques above their former cells - and retold the story of the Invincibles, a group of assassins made infamous for the Phoenix Park Murders in the late 19th century. Once discovered, most of the leadership were executed and buried in the work yard.

Mom and Dad in the Guinness Storehouse Gravity Bar

Following a bit of that history, we passed by the 'Neighborhood of Broken Dreams' - an unfinished and near empty apartment development that promised a much brighter, bustling community along the Liffey. Just past the neighborhood was a side entrance to Phoenix Park, which we entered to walk by the Wellington Monument. My dad observed that it was not as impressive as its lookalike in Washington. Just past the Park, we entered Ryan's Pub for some quick lunch/dinner and a couple pints, including my first Gallway Hooker. If the place was not a hour walk from Goldsmith, I am sure that the gang would have made not a few stops inside during the semester to enjoy its relaxed atmosphere.

A Luas tram ride back to O'Connell Street was followed by a walk to the Shelbourne and a needed sit after several hours of walking along the north and south side. However, we were not sedentary for long, as we my dad's determination brought us to the Blarney Inn by Trinity to enjoy a couple more pints. Unfortunately their heavily advertised, authentic Irish music is only Thursday through Saturday.

Tuesday

Once another buffet breakfast at the Shelbourne concluded, we set out for Pearse Street Station and the Dart Train south to Bray. A coastal community further south than Dun Laoghaire, several waiters, including our Canadian waitress at breakfast, urged us to visit the town for its beach and cliff walk. Fortunately, Tuesday provided the third consecutive day of sunny, warm weather to match the sights of the community.

Although a trip into the town center failed to yield the tourist information office, we later enjoyed a relaxing rest on the beach. The buildings lining the main promenade give way to a open park, a beach walk, and the smooth stones lining the shore. With the sun heating the stones, lying on them provided comfort akin to a massage.

Mom and I along the Bray Cliff Walk

From there we traveled a few kilometers along the cliff walk, which for a train line hugging the space below, was not as impressive as the one at Howth. Still, the superior weather and the numerous fellow walkers easily overcame that difference. More important, once my dad and I decided to scale the cross-topped mountain overlooking the town, we were presented with an unmatched view of the valley and surrounding Irish Sea. That hiking earned our dinner at Martello's, a hotel with ample outdoor seating along the promenade.

Once in Dublin, and to conclude the night, we visited my ever favorite pub, MacTorcaills. My parents gave every indication that they enjoyed the venue, as we discussed all matters with our favorite bartender, Mark, and not a few other patrons. By the end of the evening, my Dad had given Mark his Bruins hat and a dollar to stick to the wall.

Wednesday

Another filling brunch at the Shelbourne, and we were off to Dublin Castle for a tour of the State Apartments. Unlike the dreary weather that greeted my earlier visit, a fourth consecutive day of blue sky ushered many visitors onto its small, circular park - including a free tour guide who told his assembled group that a visit to the Leprechaun Museum would offend just about everyone he knows. While waiting for the State Apartments, we perused the Chester Beatty Library and its collection of priceless religious manuscripts.

Unfortunately, the tour of the State Apartments was truncated, most likely due to the impending visit by the Queen. Still, we saw several lavish rooms, the throne for the Viceroy of Dublin (and visiting Monarch), as well as the blue and gold room now used for the inauguration of the President. Most of Dublin Castle no longer resembles the medieval Norman building, as a history of several devastating fires have left only one original round tower intact. Nevertheless, the results of a recent archaeological dig beneath the current structures, extends the tour to the subterranean foundations of the old powder tower and remnants of the city wall and moat.

From there, my parents left to explore the open air market that parallels O'Connell Street, while I participated in an interview. A couple hours later, we regrouped outside of Front Arch and set out for the Archaeology Museum. With less than an hour to spare, we quickly toured the bog bodies and a few other exhibits. To the disliking of my Dad, our rush into the museum did not afford him enough time to discuss the matters of the day with the Garda officer outside Leinster House (as he had the past two days).

For dinner we ate at the Bank Bar on College Green, which is housed in a building overhauled for the kingly sum of 80 thousands pounds in the late 19th century for the Belfast Bank. Much of the interior is intact, and we ate our relatively expensive, but no less tasteful, dinners in the loft above the bar. Some time spent in one of the Shelbourne's bars concluded the night.

Thursday

After soliciting advice from nearly every Dubliner we encountered, we had opted for the train to Gallway rather than a trip to Belfast. Of course the fifth consecutive day of shining, warm weather played a part in the decision to travel to a beach community on the west coast, rather than the aging industrial capital of Northern Ireland.

Two hours and 15 minutes on the clean, swift intercity train from Heuston Station brought us into Gallway by JFK Park. Although I had opposed every attempt to take a double-decker tour bus around Dublin, our six hours in the west coast, made the bus more palatable. Following a pint and a snack at the tourist pub of An Pucan (my Dad disputes the claim despite leprechauns painted on the windows), we boarded our bus for the pass around town.

With a university student population of over 30 thousand, Gallway is a young city today with a long past. Our guide provided witty commentary - though our seats by the rear would at times be too far from the speakers -  and took us along the city to pass the banners for the county's 14 tribes, the canal, cathedrals, NUI Gallway, a view of the city from its highest point, and to the shore. There we disembarked to spend little more than an hour on the beach, which was made of sand this time.

On the Tour Bus in Gallway

Full Album

Too quickly, the time past, and we were back on the bus to pass the Spanish Arch and the Claddagh (famous today for an once-exiled ring maker). According to our guide, the son of the current King of the Claddagh was working in the World Trade Center on September 11th, and he ushered more than 30 coworkers down more than 40 flights of stairs, while ignoring a directive by the fire department, to arrive outside mere minutes before the towers fell. The world is a small place indeed.

Walking through the historic, now shopping district we enjoyed one awkward moment - leaving a restaurant that turned out to not have draft beers - and a fine lunch at Skeffington Arms. During which, I enjoyed another Gallway Hooker, and we discussed life in general with a couple touring English ladies who were on holiday. Still that discussion failed to match our marathon history and current political events one with an older Irishman on the train back to Dublin.

The Weekend

Following a 7am breakfast, my parents left for the airport and their indirect 11am flight to Boston via Philadelphia. I returned to bed, only to wake as their plane was leaving to accomplish my now desperate need for laundry and groceries. With many still traveling before exams, the past couple days have been low key with conversations with friends from home and Easter Mass with Brittany at Saint Mary's Pro Cathedral earlier this morning. Although the handful of protesters outside the Cathedral along with the ending commemoration of the 95th anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising added some variety to the day. Otherwise, I look forward to returning to the States in a month, and my trip to Madrid on Thursday.

Tuxedos, Bread, and il Papa

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I suppose that may excuse the delay in this post.

Two weeks ago marked the last few days of class prior to my 4.5 week pre-final exam break. By that Monday, four lectures and two tutorials, 6 hours, remained in my class time at Trinity. Both Irish Politics and Comparative Welfare States lectures ended the week before. Still, due to a scheduling change, and for the only time throughout the semester, I had at least one class each day of the week.

Wednesday marked our final celebration as a crew - both American and Irish - with MacTorcaills Farewell, MacTorcaills Forever. Attendance was as near mandatory as possible, with some emerging from the woodwork to join for the final shindig. Although we only lasted until 5am, the semester came full circle with the box game at Russell's.

Thursday forced a tough realization that high marks are difficult to come by at Trinity, with my first graded paper returned in Irish Politics. Although a 58% sounds terrible in the US, it translates into a B in the States (a 66% is an A). Despite having already spent over a week on my second 1700 word paper, which accounts for the other 50% of my grade, I examined the comments and engaged in some serious revision to hopefully engender a better result.

After my last lecture on Friday, my break started, and Trinity Ball loomed. At 5pm, Sean and I gathered our beverages and made for Shawna's house in distant Dublin 14. Our first ride on a city bus was uneventful, but the gathering proved to be a lively event, eclipsed only by the Sun that was the Ball. The metrics attest to the scale: 8,000 tickets, 19 bands, 4 tent venues, 1 outdoor venue, and formal attire. From 10pm to 5am, we partook in a debauchery that exceeded any prior experience. I would only return to Goldsmith after noon on Saturday.

Composition from the Ball

Sunday marked the start of my six-day trip to Italy. Following a smooth Ryan Air flight to Rome Ciampino Airport, I met an Australian woman who teaches English at the American University of Rome. We took the same Terravision bus to Termini Station in the heart of the city, and she set me off with all the transit advice and metro tickets that I would need for the stay. Meeting her was invaluable. And to supplement her help, I met a pair of Swiss and Swedish girls on the bus, who were studying Italian and would be taking the same Tram as I. With their help, I arrived at Gabby's apartment with ease.

A quick 2.25 hour trip by Sulga bus to Perugia in Umbria was followed by some identification difficulty and then a short 40 minute ride with my first cousin once removed to his organic farm in the nearby hills.  Somewhere between meeting his wife Birgit and youngest daughter Ela, eating a few delicious meals and deserts, drinking authentic Italian cappuccino, meeting three donkeys, a cat, and two guinea pigs; and seeing his oldest daughter Sara for the first time in a few years, John and I managed to discuss all matters of philosophic and political importance.

Following a short endeavor with a few bee hives, lunch, and waiting for Ela to return from her practice leaving certification exam, we filled John's car and left for Assisi, famous for a certain Saint Francis. Beyond its several churches, which included two massive cathedrals, the town afforded a spectacular view of the Tiber River Valley and the pink/tan sandstone buildings with red tile roofs expected of Italy. After seeing a couple entombed saints and exploring various side streets for picture opportunities, we visited a nearby restaurant that John and Birgit had eaten at in their first stay in Assisi a few decades ago. The huge hearth and writing-covered wall added to a warm and inviting atmosphere with, as expected, more delicious food.

Me with Sara, Birgit and John in Assisi (Ela was the photographer)

On Wednesday, and in between reading portions of A Brief History of Nearly Everything, John and Birgit made over 90 loaves of bread to sell to their loyal customers in Perugia on Thursday. Their process was near second nature with deft movements and muscle memory producing delicious loaves in a quick and precise manner. My assistance came in building the fire to heat the large outdoor stove.

The next day, we returned to Perugia. Sara and I explored the underground, Roman labyrinth of Rocca Paolina, the heavily frescoed Cathedral of San Lorenzo, and religious imagery-filled National Gallery while Ela attended class and her parents distributed the bread from the day before. Later on, and after a cappuccino, I was en route to Rome, and soon after that back at Gabby's. At the apartment I was greeted by Dara and Gabby's roommate Rachel, who had helped create a well-time dinner of shrimp and pasta. We made good use of my cousin's dogwood and apple jam too.

The next day, we made use of Culture Week in Rome with free visits to the Colosseum and the Forum. Walking among artifacts of one of the most powerful and lasting empires of human history is inspiring at minimum, with the power of the ruins contrasting the graffitied walls of modern Rome. After spending ten cents for luck at the Trevi Fountain, walking through the Pantheon, and visiting the Fountain to the Four River Gods, Dara, Gabby, and I were ready to reunite with Zoe and Becca for our tour of the opulent Vatican museum.

Gabby, Dara and I in the Pantheon

Full Italy Album

12 euro tickets allowed us to skip the lines and see the neutered Roman statues, lavishly frescoed halls, famous Raphael paintings such as the School of Athens and the crowing of Charlemagne, and the much anticipated Sistine Chapel. While the latter was magnificent, it was underwhelming given the hype and the equally impressive artwork dotting the pilgrimage through the halls it followed. One night out later, and I was back in Dublin following a morning flight.

On Sunday, and despite having to sprint for their plane in Philadelphia, my parents arrived in Dublin. We explored campus: touring the Book of Kells and the Old library, visiting the new Human+ exhibit in the science gallery, and watching some Trinity cricket and rugby. Between always expensive Dublin lunches and dinners we walked through Saint Stephen's Green, and made plans to tour the Guinness and Jameson Breweries tomorrow.

Shooting, Hurling, and Football

Despite the Dublin's best effort, I discovered a service that is cheaper here than back in the States. For a mere 5 Euro I secured a haircut along the North Side of the Liffey. Fortunately, this past week was far more exciting than a cheap Monday-haircut, and my Tuesday/Wednesay-draft essay on the strength of the Dáil Éireann.

On Thursday, Sean and I returned to the Rifle Club to make use of our free session that came with our 2 Euro membership fee from last week. Using the .22 caliber smallbore rifles we shot from the prone position at a 2 inch circular target at a range of 25 yards with a non-magnifying scope. Since it was our first time shooting smallbore, the range operators outfitted us with a resting block to use as a rifle mount, and were on hand to provide constant feedback. Following our ten rounds, my shots proved precise if not necessarily accurate.

Rifle Club Target

Full Dublin Album

Three activities conspired to make Friday interesting. First off, Cadbury setup a tent and a few timed competitions on the rugby pitch to award three Nintendo Wii consoles to the three students who stacked 28 coins,  unrolled toilet paper, or made a bed the fastest. Each had various limits as to the number of limbs to be used, with all competitors awarded a full-size chocolate bar for their efforts. Two events received most of my attention: a inflatable that held a bungie cord race that snapped you backwards as you tried to reach the end - no Wii involved, and the toilet paper one, as I was prone to lapping the event and letting it catch the wind or another competitor to unravel. 

Later that day, I finally visited the Memory Lab at Trinity's Science Gallery. The month-long, open-to-the-public exhibit boasts 11 memory exercises, many on computers, with the data collected to be used for a Trinity research paper. After participating in four, my strengths were "Information Overload," which involved reciting 9-number sequences while completing a timed maze; and "Saved by the Memories," which centered on ranking various words as to their usefulness in particular situations, then memorizing number sequences, then trying to remember as many of the previous words as possible. I was least successful at "Two Second Memory" and "Don't You Know Who I Am?"

At night, Sean, John, and I set out for O'Reilly's Pub, as recommended by the Rifle Club for its cheap pints that are always 3.20 Euro. The place is tucked under the Tara Street Station and is reachable via a narrow alley by the Ulster Bank building along the Liffey. Despite the negative image that might surface from a pub located under a set of Dart tracks, the place was marked for its classic furnishings and bustling atmosphere. However, word was out about its prices, as the place was full to bursting. Adding our guilt at skipping MacTorcaill's, and one pint later, we had left for our favorite pub. Of note there, was our successful request for Cheers to be the last song of the night, and two spring 2009 AU graduates who are studying for their masters at Trinity.

On saturday, Brittany, Sean, Emma and I set out for Croke Park and the GAA double-header featuring Dublin versus Kilkenny in Hurling followed by Dublin versus Down in Gaelic Football. Despite deciding to try a unknown shortcut to the stadium, we arrived in time for the matches. Of course, we refers to Sean and I who saw the hurling match from the 20 minute mark onward, while Brittany and Emma were separated when they went looking for Kathryn and only made it to the stadium for football. A torrential downpour and hailstorm during the hurling game delayed their arrival, while we watched the exciting match under the protection of the stadium's overhang.

Sean and I at Croke Park

Of note at the stadium: Dublin overcame a late goal by Kilkenny to claw back 3 points through the uprights, including a last second, stoppage time shot; Jedward, Ireland's entry in the Eurosong competition, performed their unique style, including two of their songs, Say it Ain't So, Ice Ice Baby, and Ghostbusters, at halftime; and Dublin came from a point behind in the closing minutes, to tie Down, and win with a stunning last second goal.

On Sunday, Sean and I made use of my Groupon to tour the nearly 52,000-seat Aviva Stadium, the home of Irish Rugby and Football. Completed in 2010, the basket-shaped structure replaced the Lansdowne Road stadium, built in 1872. The state-of-the-art facility is one of the buildings that standout as the last throws of the Celtic Tiger. I only wish that I had 80 Euro to spend watching the UEFA Europa League Final on 15 May.

Aviva Stadium with lights to stimulate grass growth visible in the background

Full Dublin Part II Album

This week is the final five days of classes, different from my usual four days as a professor switched our class to Monday/Friday. Tuesday I interview with the Chief Operating Officer of Public Notice, an economic policy advocacy firm in Arlington, VA; and Friday is the Trinity Ball. By next Sunday night, I will be in Rome.