Dublin Day One

Well, it looks as though we haven't written in a few weeks. It's only because our lives have been dead boring and it's not been until this week that we've got interesting things to write about: We just returned from four days in Dublin.

Writing in retrospect, I'm tempted to put it all into one post, but I'll break it up by days instead. So. To the first day, Thursday.

We've been able to avoid flying in Europe so far, and could have this time, but taking a train to Holyhead in Wales and a ferry to Dublin would have taken most of the day, probably nine or ten hours. Flying was also cheaper. I lost the vote, so on a sunny Thursday morning we drove to London Stansted airport, which is only an hour away in Essex. Margo had also wisely made a reservation for valet parking, so leaving the car was dead easy.

We flew Ryanair, the low-cost, no-frills Ireland airline. (Not that Aer Lingus is expensive either.) And really, no frills. Not just no peanuts or soda cans; no assigned seating (we paid a few pounds extra for "priority seating" so we and half the flight could board early and sit together); and, to my chagrin, no seatback pockets. This last part got to me for some reason, though I can see the advantage - it must be much quicker to clean the plane between trips.

Airplane Tip: What do you do when your six-year-old farts so foully that you suspect her pants need changing? You turn on the overhead fans to disperse the miasma before the other passengers mutiny and throw you out of the cabin.

We spent twenty Euros to get on a bus to the city centre. I saw a farmhouse just opposite a roundabout. That farmer gets to see buses and taxis full of international tourists all day.

The Irish drive on the left, but speeds are in kilometers/hour instead of miles/hour. Road signs are in Celtic above, often italicised, and English below. It makes sense, given what I've learned of Ireland's history.

Despite what the song says, the road to Dublin was not rocky. In fact, it was quite smooth. One, two three, four five.

I noticed signs for Guinness everywhere. Really. All over the airport (I was looking out the bus and realised I was seeing it yet again on an airport windowshade), and just about every pub, which means pretty much every block. And the billboards. And some shop windows. At one point, on a corner pub, I saw the same "Guinness Time" painting of the guy standing on a seal and ostrich to adjust the clock - the same one that's on the back of Kells in Portland and I'm sure lots of other places around the world.

Since we didn't know our way around, we paid another tenner to get a cab ride from the Dublin train station to our hotel, the Jurys Inn on Parnell Square. Once again, Margo (with help from Mr. Steves) had chosen impeccably - we were just off the main drag of O'Connell Street and blocks from the river Liffey and most attractions.

After checking in and dropping off our bags, we went for a stroll to get a bite to eat, as Sarah was quite crabby from our travels and we knew food would help in fixing things. So rounding the corner onto O'Connell Street and heading toward the river, we came across our first attraction, the Dublin Spire. This was erected for the Millennium but doesn't commemorate anything in particular and cost loads of money, so the locals aren't too happy about it and have given it nicknames like "the stiletto in the Ghetto" and (Margo made me promise to include this) "the stiffy on the Liffey".



We ate at a café across the way, but first I got this picture looking up the Earl Street shopping area. On the left is a statue of James Joyce.



We agreed on some down time. I split off to explore. First I went in search of a pint. I ended up just across the river at a pub named Messrs Maguire. They brew their own, though they also stock the standard lagers (Becks, Stella, Carlsberg) and the Irish cider Bullmers, plus - I don't think I've seen this anywhere else in Europe - taps of Budweiser and Miller. I went for the "plain" stout, choosing from a few house styles. Theirs was quite similar to Guinness - bitter and dry with the famously thick foam.

Walking about I noticed I'd seen three people with fresh scars on their faces, in my first hour in the place. Tough town, yeah? I also noticed more beggars than in most European cities.

Then I walked west along the river (towards the Irish Sea). Here's the view. The U2 Tower studio and apartments is being built on the right.



Here's the financial centre, along the north bank.



I'd done a little homework the night before our trip, so I was able to find nearby Windmill Lane, which used to house the Windmill Lane Studios, where U2 recorded their first three albums. It's all flats now, but these graffiti walls are left for the fans, though I didn't really recognise any messages pertaining to U2.



There's been a lot of recent development along the waterfront. The Irish economy is just slowing from a boom; the country is one of the best places to do business in Europe.





Back at our room, we hadn't the energy to do much research into dinner, so we settled for pub food in a restaurant across the street. Then we watched some telly, including the evening news in Gaelic on TG4. And that was our first day ... I'll post the rest soon.