A Dabble in Dublin

So on the rare occasion they actually deliver the Welsh Daily Post to my mum, she found an offer to go to Dublin £12 return. Decided to book, although at the weekend it’s £15 which was still a bargain.

Got very confused,flustered and discombobulated trying to find how to get to the ferry port as a foot passenger. Things have changed in the decades I last did the trip. Helpfully there were no signs, at one point we thought we would have to scale to metal fence that runs parallel to the road.

Looked above and saw the Celtic Passageway Bridge which on googling realised this was the ‘,easy’ way to link to ferry port as a foot passenger. it’s only been there since 2006!

You can see the relief on my face!

Packed an enormous packed lunch, which in true school trip style had devoured very shortly after getting on the boat.

A good journey over, very calm. I sat and read and Pete explored and took lots of photos of himself around the boat.

I think the Stena Line will come knocking on our door for Pete to be part of an advertising campaign.

Again all change from when we have come before so it felt a bit disorientating but we made it into Dublin.

We headed to Merrion Square Park as I had found out that there was an Indian Cultural Festival to celebrate 75 years on independence. It was really vibrant and joyous.

Lots of food stalls, spoilt for choice but settled on paneer pakoras, which were very tasty.

Crossing the park we headed to the National Art Gallery, but not before Pete having another posing opportunity.

This is the Jokers Chair it is a memorial to Dermot Morgan who played in Father Ted.

The Art Gallery was really good and we saw lots of great artworks.

I particularly liked this one!

There was a special exhibition – Celebrating Ulysses, 34 works by German artist Gunter Schollkopf. Never managed to read Ulysses but Pete has, this exhibition really helped me understand it better.

What was more fitting than to go to a pub after this with links with James Joyce, the Lincoln’s Inn. Joyce used to drink there when he waited for Nora Barnacle at the nearby Finn’s.

Pete’s first pint of Guinness! From here went to Temple Bar and went to an eye wateringly expensive round. All the more painful as I only drink lime and soda.

Very much a tourist trap, expensive drinks and rowdy stag do’s. The bar we settled on had ear splitting live Irish music, it seemed a great option. It was really good hearing a bit of diddly, until the mood changed and a stag party came in. Suddenly it went to shout outs about where people come from. The group were Welsh and so he proceeded to sing Delilah – I wanted Irish ballads, anything but this.

The next stop was the Archeology Museum, which wished we had gone to first but we decided it would be first on our list if or when we go back.

We only managed part of the bottom floor as I was really absorbed by the peat men.

This one was the Clonycavon Man. I love the fact that he was only five foot two and had tried to appear taller by spiking his hair up with pine resin from southern Spain and France. Mind boggling to think he was doing this 2,300 years ago.

This was Old Croghan Man,over 2000 years old. Could have been tortured as his nipples were mutilated or was done as an offering.

Last but not least Gallagh Man who was killed maybe as a sacrifice or he was a criminal who was put to death.

I don’t know if it’s ghoulish but I found it all very interesting.

The last pub we headed to our last pub. Can’t remember what it was called but apparently in the top five in Dublin, we just stumbled across it. It was fantastic, so much to look at, with a budgie behind the bar. On the way Pete had a cuddle with Oscar Wilde. But think Pete enjoyed it more than him.

Sitting in the pub was much needed as I was knackered and my feet were killing me, we had walked miles and had packed all this in just five hours!

One odd thing was they were playing different versions of Dirty Old Town – I didn’t care as I sang the chorus each time. One fact I later found was that this was originally written by Ewan McColl and was about Salford, not anywhere in Ireland – who knew!

What a great few hours!!!