DUBLIN 2012
DUBLIN, IRELAND
April 2, 2012 Prague, CZ
Colleen and I were going to a wedding in England during the Easter weekend, so we took the opportunity to go to Ireland first. We had been to Ireland once before, but had only spent a few hours in Dublin because I didn’t want to be in a big city. This time I wanted to give the city a chance. We had a pleasant Aer Lingus flight from Prague and arrived in Dublin, cloudy, overcast and drizzling. We took a bus from the airport and when we got off, walked one block to our hotel, the George Frederick Handel on Fishamble Street. The plaque on the front of the hotel stated that the “The Messiah” was first performed at the New Music Hall on Fishamble St. in April, 1742. Contrary to what most of my compatriots in Prague believe, I wasn’t there for the performance. The hotel was very pleasant and centrally located. We were able to walk to all the attractions. I recommend it.
That night, we went to the Prince Edward pub for the “best fish and chips in Dublin.” It was a beautiful pub, old and dark with heavy wood interior. You could just imagine the landed gentry standing in front of the bar having a pint of Guinness. Unfortunately, the kitchen was closed for one week, the week that we would be in Dublin. We settled for fish and chips at “The Arlington Hotel and Bar.” The dinner was OK but not great. We had our first Guinness and that was great. We stayed for the free show of Irish music. The band consisted of a banjo, an accordion and a guitar. The girl in the band also played a tin whistle. To the right of the band was a picture of a distinguished looking gentleman in eighteenth century dress looking quite serious. After about half an hour of listening to the music, Colleen nudged me and said, “Look at the picture.” The man was now moving. He reached in his pocket, stuck earphones in his ears and seemed to be listening to music. This went on for about thirty seconds and then he put the earphones away and resumed his original position, somber and immobile. During the course of the evening, he did this several times, each time doing something a little different and each time returning to the exact pose from which he had started. An interesting diversion. I asked the bartender if there was a pub nearby that featured a band with a Bodhran, the small, traditional Irish drum that I love. The bartender replied in a very condescending voice, “Well, that’s not a real instrument.” We didn’t get to see anyone play the Bodhran this trip though we went to several pubs advertising traditional Irish music.
April 3, 2012 Dublin, Ireland
After coffee in the room, we strolled leisurely down Lord Edward Street, which became Dame Street after a couple of blocks, which became College Green, etc. Along the way, we checked menus and prices and I looked for souvenirs I had promised to buy for those who had told me what they wanted. There were lots of souvenir shops along the way and we stopped in the Tourist Office to see what they had to offer. I found some of the items I was looking for. There were lots of things with Celtic themes and designs. I am so drawn to them and to the music that I wonder if my ancestors weren’t Irish or if I lived in Ireland in a previous life (like Bridey Murphy). Unfortunately the genealogical studies my brother has done can’t get us out of the hills of Tennessee. We can’t trace ourselves back to Europe at all.
Colleen got a Claddagh ring, the traditional Irish friendship ring that is named for the town where it was first produced in the 17th century. The distinctive design features two hands holding a heart surmounted by a crown. The heart represents love, the hands, friendship and the crown, loyalty. If worn on the right hand with the point of the heart toward the fingertips, the wearer is single and may be looking for a relationship. If the heart is pointed toward the wrist, the wearer is in a relationship or her heart has been “captured.” If worn on the left hand, heart pointed toward the fingertips, the wearer is engaged. If toward the heart, the wearer is married. So much to learn and so much to look out for. It is a beautiful ring. I was fascinated by the Trinity Knot, which can have religious or secular meanings. I looked for one that was masculine enough for me to wear, but my search was in vain. The knot represents the Holy Trinity to those who wish it. To others, it represents the three promises of a relationship, to love, to honor and to protect. The trinity Knot was found on ancient pagan runes and has been adapted to modern religious uses, much like Christmas and Easter were imposed on older pagan festivals.
The next stop was the National Gallery. One of the main reasons for our coming to Dublin was to see the Vermeer painting they have there. We had set a goal years ago to see all the Vermeers that still exist. There are only 35, not counting one that was stolen and one whose location is not currently known (I don’t know why). 35 is a reasonable goal and gave us an excuse to travel to different locations in Europe, as well as Washington and New York.
The National Gallery is somewhat small but interesting. It is free but no photographs are allowed. We first saw an exhibition of Irish artists and then proceeded to the permanent collection which was arranged in chronological order. It started with medieval religious paintings, lots of gold and halos. The gallery has a good sampling of famous artists but not an abundance of any particular artist. We saw Rembrandt. Caravaggio, a smattering of Impressionists, Monet, Cezanne, Pissarro, Sisley, etc. Bonnard was there and Picasso. And, of course, Johannes Vermeer and his “Woman Writing a Letter, with her Maid”. Many of Vermeer’s paintings show people seated in a room with light coming through a side window. This was no exception. But his snapshot of life in the period is rich with detail showing the dress of the day, the fabrics used in tablecloths, and the designs on the floor. There are also hidden messages in the paintings that the people of that period would have been able to read. A guide was explaining some of these to the group she was shepherding through the museum. Next to the Vermeer were two paintings by Gabriel Metsu, depicting the same subject, one, a lady writing to a gentleman and the other, a gentleman writing to a lady. They were similar to the Vermeer in composition but not quite as exquisitely accomplished. There was, however, another painter in the Dutch Masters room who, in my opinion, rivals Vermeer but is not so well known, Pieter De Hooch. He was a contemporary of Vermeer and their subjects and compositions were often similar to those of Vermeer. And his work was as near to perfection as that of Johannes. There were other paintings in the room by artists who seemed just as good but who were completely unknown to me. There were some whose efforts fell far short of the masters. This always makes me wonder why some artists are considered masters and are much sought after while others who displayed the same talent were virtually unknown. And why are some whom I don’t consider artists at all displayed in museums. Jackson Pollock is my prime suspect. He’s a dropper and splatterer, not a painter. And why do people like paintings that are random splotches of color that my grandchildren could have done, paintings that have no theme or design or significance and don’t indicate that the creator has any ability to actually draw. I remember a series of paintings in a bank where I used to work entitled “Homage to a Square.” Squares of diminishing size and different colors imposed on each other. I could have done that! My theory is that the artist had a booster who had the gift of gab and was able to convince the buying public and ultimately a museum that a painting that might have only one color, a solid canvas of blue, had significance and meaning. So much for my tirade. I like what I like.
We walked over to Trinity College which was only a couple of blocks away. Trinity College was founded by Queen Elizabeth I in 1592. It is a beautiful campus with stately gray buildings and beautifully landscaped courtyards. The buildings look like government buildings, designed to impress. The entrances are columned and the windows are rounded at the top with decorative miniature columns between. The yard is perfectly manicured, green grass and old trees that spread their limbs and offer shade. Tourists mixed with students who were changing classes. It was cold and windy and everyone moved briskly. We headed to the Old library where the Book of Kells is on display. The Book of Kells is a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the Four gospels. It was begun early in the 9th Century by the Monks of Iona, an island off the coast of Scotland. The work was done on Iona or in Kells, County Meath, where the monks moved after 806AD, when Iona was attacked by Vikings. The Book was stolen in 1007, but recovered a few months later minus its gold and jeweled cover and a few pages at the beginning and the end. Obviously, gold and jewels were more valuable to the thieves than the written word. The book was sent to Dublin around 1653 for safekeeping during the Cromwellian period, and subsequently given to Trinity College by Henry Jones, Bishop of Meath, in 1661.
The exhibit begins with explanations of the origin of the book, its history and the tools and craftsmanship required to produce such a work. Huge back-lighted photographs of the book allow close examination of the details described in the commentary. Specific details are highlighted and explained as to what they mean and why they were included. For instance, St. Mathew is shown surrounded by peacocks, snakes and rats and he is crowned with a double halo. Each item had a specific significance. Nothing was left to chance.
Two pages of the Book of Kells, maybe 15 inches by 18 inches in size, were on display under glass, one a full page illustration and the other a page of text. In 1953, the book was bound in four volumes, each page carefully placed on a page of a larger book, much as we place clippings in a scrapbook. I understand that the pages on display are changed from time to time. The work is exquisite. The illustration is incredibly detailed and the full page of text is written in very small calligraphy. The first letter of each paragraph is usually illustrated in some manner. Certain monks did the calligraphy while others did the illustrations. Knowing the instruments they had to use, it an incredible accomplishment. It had to have been painstaking work. Granted, the monks had little else to do, but it must have taken vast amounts of time, effort and dedication to accomplish the task. The exhibit is well worth the entry fee.
There were other ancient books on display though none were as rich as the Book of Kells. Some were called “pocket” books because they were small enough to fit into a monk’s pocket as he traveled through the countryside.
From the Book of Kells, we proceeded to the Long Room of the Old Library, built between 1712 and 1732. The room is 65 meters long, two stories high and houses over 200,000 of the library’s oldest books. The barrel vaulted ceiling gives it an impression of even more height. The room is dark. Light filters in from the windows on each side but the ornately carved dark wood swallows it up. The central aisle is wide, allowing visitors to move easily about, and there are benches for those who want to sit and rest. On each side of the room, there are some twenty alcoves, each with a name written in gold above it, “Ex Dono” “Caroli Secundi” and “An Colle Nicerium”, etc. Each alcove has 14 shelves about 8 feet wide on each side. On one side, the shelves are lettered “A”, “B”, “C”, while the other side is lettered “AA”, “BB”, “CC”. Each side of each alcove has a moveable ladder allowing one to get to the top shelves. There is a cast iron circular stairway leading to the second floor and more books. Visitors are restricted to the central aisle, however. Only the docents can go beyond the ropes. Between the alcoves, facing the center are busts of famous figures from history, the more famous being stationed nearest the entry. To the left you find Shakespeare, Milton, Newton, Locke, and Bacon. To the right are Homer, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle followed by Cicero and Swift. As you move through the room, the names are less familiar, Dr. Lawson and Dr. Parnell, probably gentlemen who were important in Irish history at a later date.
Possibly the books in the Old Library are available for those doing research but from the musty smell of the room, it seemed that they had not been touched for quite some time. Unfortunately, no photographs were permitted either in the Book of Keels exhibit or the Old Library.
That night we had noodles at a tiny Chinese eatery called “Toki Doki”. I couldn’t resist going there. Then we headed to the famous “Temple Bar” pub in the Temple Bar area. In old Dublin, “bar” referred to the walking area beside the river Liffey which runs through the city. This particular area was owned by the Temple family. Thus the area extending for several blocks along the river and several blocks into the center of town is known as “Temple Bar”, as indicated on the map. The Temple Bar Pub is only one of a number of pubs in the area, a major attraction for tourists. The pub was founded in 1819 by James Harrison, possibly one of my ancestors on my mother’s side. It is old and dark, consisting of several rooms as though it had expanded through the years and consequently there are several bars in different rooms to serve the drinking patrons. Guinness flowed freely and was good. The walls were covered with pictures, some depicting the history of the place or celebrated sports teams and others showing famous or unusual patrons. One picture near us was of four Maori natives from New Zealand in full costume, highly tattooed, eyes bugged and tongues out. All around the walls were shelves 8 inches deep, wide enough to hold a pint, and wooden stools on which to sit. We listened to a two piece band playing traditional Irish ballads and jigs and reels. A waiter came around offering small pieces of blood sausage like hors d’oeuvres. A good time was had by all.
April 4, 2012 Dublin, Ireland
We began our day at Christ Church Cathedral, the mother church of the diocese of Dublin. The church was founded about 1030, near an old Viking settlement, by Dunan, first bishop of Dublin and Sitrius Silkbeard, Norse king of Dublin. The church has gone though many restorations and in 1186 was rebuilt in the Roman style by the Normans who had taken control of Dublin in 1170. In 1358, the building was extended to form a “long quire” (choir), remnants of which are still visible just outside the current structure. Henry, the Second, took his first communion here after the murder Thomas A. Beckett and Henry, the Third, made it a Cathedral in 1539. In 1742, the choir of Christ Church and that of St. Patrick’s Cathedral took part in the premier performance of Handel’s “Messiah.” Between 1871 and 1878, a major renovation took place giving us the church as we see it today.
Christ Church is in the shape of a Catholic church with nave, transept and choir, though it is today an Anglican/Episcopal church. It is a magnificent structure and has a warm feeling. The pamphlet they hand out to visitors states, “faith or no faith, we welcome everyone as a pilgrim.” The exterior of the church shows that it has been altered and added to through the years. Grey stone walls, flying buttresses, towers and turrets of different styles. The interior is wide and welcoming. A large central aisle is lined with chairs facing the aisle, not the choir. The high vaulted ceiling gives it space. The first thing I noticed was the tile work on the floor. There were colorful, intricate patterns everywhere. The most spectacular was a large circular pattern, probably six or seven feet in diameter with concentric circles, each of a different design. Each section of the church had a different design pattern or theme. One small chapel has the original medieval tiles still in place which were used as the inspiration for the designs throughout. The work was unusual, varied and beautiful.
On the left side of the church was an alcove housing the baptistery. A beautiful, colorful font stood in the middle. The tiled basin was mounted on carved marble pillars and was covered by a brass lid decorated with three dimensional figures. The pulpit was of ornately carved wood supported by equally ornate carved stone or marbles figures of the four apostles. Along each side of the nave were crypts with highly polished brass plaques giving details of the resident. The stained glass windows told stories from the Gospels which the members in Medieval times were able to read. One window showed a stately and regal St. Patrick. I suspect that he never dressed as he was depicted in the window. The entry to the choir was through Gothic arches with life size figures carved in stone. Behind the choir, the Chapel of St. Laud housed the reliquary of the heart of Archbishop of St. Laurence O’Toole, who died in 1180. Sometimes churches have finger bones or collar bones or the whole body of some revered figure, but to me it seems cruel to remove and preserve a piece of someone’s body. There is also, to one side of the church, a carved coffin that is supposed to represent the remains of Strongbow, the first to bring English rule to Ireland in 1170.
Below the church is a huge crypt containing tombs as well as artifacts that have been placed here for safekeeping. One such is a statue of Charles I and Charles II with the Coat-of-Arms of the Stuarts between them. Stocks, used for punishment and embarrassment, which had once stood in the Christ Church yard were now in the crypt. There was also a display of several costumes that had been used in the filming of the TV show, The Tudors.
Outside the church and surrounding it on the sidewalk, were imbedded in the paving stones brass replicas of items that had been found in excavations nearby. Knives, kitchen utensils, jewelry, etc. The area had been the site of a Viking settlement and across the street from the church was “Dublinia”, a small theme park which depicted life as it had been in the time of the Vikings.
Next we went to the “Queen of Tarts”, a delightful little pastry shop (even though it is a chain). I had a blueberry scone and coffee while Colleen had a raspberry scone and a café latte. Both were delicious and the little shop was packed, as it was every time we passed by.
We made our way to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. A church has stood on this site since the fifth century when St. Patrick baptized converts to Christianity. Normans built the first stone church in 1191. The building we see today was built in the early thirteenth century and has been enlarged through the years. It is a stately church with stone pillars, a vaulted ceiling, tiled floors and stained glass windows.
Again, one of the most striking features was the tile work in the floor. Intricate, colorful, beautiful. There are enormous statues and plaques and monuments throughout the church honoring famous people and war dead. The Knights of St. Patrick were especially honored and had seats in the choir with banners and helmets and coats of arms over their seats. There are crypts in the walls and tombs in the floor. The church seems to serve nationalistic as well as religious purposes. Plaques on the wall indicate that portions of the church have been used in times of troubles by people of other religions, including the Huguenots who were expelled from France and who worshipped here from 1666 t0 1816, and John Wesley, who was allowed to teach in one of the small chapels. Larger than life sized marble statues of famous personages lined the wall on one side.
Among the famous people buried in the church were Robert Boyle, known as the Father of Chemistry, and Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver’s Travels. Swift was dean of St. Patrick’s from 1713 to 1745. He was a political activist and, like Benjamin Franklin, wrote under a pen name, “M. B., drapier” (drapier being his profession). He fought for Irish freedom and was extremely popular.
The pews were wooden benches and in front of each seat was a small needle point cushion used for kneeling. The cushions had names such as Wexford, Lahinch, Roscommon, and Enniskillen or geometric designs or simple pictures.
It’s a beautiful church, well worth the visit.
Next, we made our way to Dublin Castle. The castle was originally a Celtic ring-fort and continued to be an important location during the 300 year Viking reign in Dublin. After the Anglo-Norman invasion of 1170, a medieval style castle was erected, of which only one tower and one wall remain. Following a fire in 1684, the current structure was built and the fortress became a palace, somewhat similar to the architecture of Versailles, enclosing an open courtyard. Grand but uninteresting. You can tour the Staterooms of the palace. That day the tour was free, consequently all the tours were booked. I was not disappointed. I’ve seen regal staterooms, glimpsed the life of the wealthy royalty and it just doesn’t appeal to me. We did go into a small chapel attached to the castle. Small but beautiful, it featured coats of arms carved in rich dark wood throughout. Each coat of arms had a family name and a date, many from the seventeen hundreds and earlier.
That night we headed back to the Temple bar area for more beer and music. We stopped at PaPa John’s for pizza. It was just like we have in the States. And the young lady who brought us our pizza gave each of us a Cadbury Egg. A perfect treat at Easter time.
We went to the Oliver St. John Gogarty Pub in Temple Bar. The décor was very similar to the Temple Bar. Several bars, dark wood, pictures and paintings covered the wall, crowded, lots of Guinness. A small band played the same music we had heard the previous two nights. And it was good.
April 5, 2012 Dublin Ireland.
We started the day wandering down the main street. Saw a man unloading kegs of beer from a truck. He had a large, thick cushion, one that might have been used on a sofa, which he threw on the pavement beside the truck. He reached high above him and tilted a keg until it fell. It landed directly on the cushion, which eased the fall, bounced once and rolled away. He quickly retrieved it, rolled it to where he wanted it to be and reached for another. Fascinating how we find a simple solution to an everyday problem. “Necessity is the, etc.”
The goal for the day was to buy souvenirs for those who had requested them. We went into several souvenir shops and found what I wanted. There seemed to be a Carroll’s souvenir shop every couple of blocks.
We went to Stephen’s Green, a lovely wooded area in the middle of town, much like Central Park in New York but not as large. There were small lakes and trees and green grass and flowers, lots of flowers. Ducks and gulls swam in the water and came toward anyone who stopped along the edge in hopes of getting something to eat. The park was arranged so that you could wander through and enjoy the beauty of nature away from the noise of the city. It was very peaceful.
We wanted a “full Irish breakfast” just so we could say we had had one, but we were too late. We settled for a Subway sandwich, good and cheap. We saw the statue of Molly Maguire, the lady who sold cockles and muscles along the waterfront. She was in bronze, full sized, and pushing her cart full of wares. Her dress was very low cut, leaving little to the imagination. Maybe that was the dress of the day but I suspect she displayed her ample charms to attract customers. We crossed the River Liffey and walked along McConnell Street, the main shopping street in town. More tourist shops, including Carroll’s. We walked and gawked and got back to the hotel four hours later. We came out again mid-afternoon and had coffee and cheesecake at the Queen of tarts, a different one. We went to the Old Warehouse for dinner and music. I had a hamburger and Colleen had fish chowder. Both were delicious with the Guinness. We had perfect seats for watching the band, two pieces, a guitar and a banjo. The same music, Galway Girl, Whiskey in the Jar, etc., but this was the best band we heard.
The next day was a travel day to go to the wedding in England. I’ll tell about that under the heading England which will follow shortly.
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