May 11 and 12th, 2009

It's the 15th of May, nearly the 16th, and I am finally motivated to talk about the last two days of my trip. I'm beginning to fear that if I don't do it now, I never will, and that I won't remember everything that I wanted to say. So here goes nothing:

I don’t even remember where I left off in the last note, so will say that I took the train from Cork to Dublin. Enough Ryanair for me! It was among the best decisions I made all week; I thoroughly enjoyed the pace of it all, and no one weighed by bags; bags filled with way too many clothes…I’m so female when it comes to packing! I caught the right train, got off at the right station, talked to another very nice taxi driver. (So different from NYC, where they make you feel like the dentist if you ask them a question most of the time.) He told me about his daughter who’d been to Canada all last summer with her girlfriend, and the girlfriend came back pregnant!!! Can you imagine coming home with that one!? He said that he doesn’t get updates anymore because he basically said: “How could you be so stupid?”, when he heard. We had a good laugh about that. (She was 27 and is due any day, and seems happy about the whole thing, even though it’s less than ideal. I’m not judging, just sure as hell happy it wasn’t me who had to tell my mom….oh hi mom….my news was quite enough, I’m sure.)

I settled into the hotel and then took off with my pass and ubiquitous knapsack (don’t you just love that word? Mr. Dell, my high school VP said that to me one day, many years ago, as I left track practice, and I looked at him blankly, so he explained what it meant. It really was the perfect adjective to describe me and my knapsack. Go to www.dictionary.com for those of you who are lost.) I went to the Guinness Factory tour. I quite enjoyed it. At first, I was disappointed that it was self guided, but I got over it quickly and took my time reading everything. It’s an awesome building that housed the old factory. It has been renovated and turned into a tourist attraction. The best part was the pint of Guinness that you get when it’s over, and the 360 degree bar at the top. I walked around, chatted with a young couple from the US, and talked with Tania on the phone for a while, and quite honestly, wished I had someone to share the experience with. Sorry, a moment of weakness there…actually, I had several of them throughout the whole trip; they came on at the most unexpected times, and in a wave. Just being melancholy, not depressed here people. To be expected, I guess.

In the evening, I headed over to the Oliver St-John Goggarty’s Pub, where I met the couple from Utah last week, and heard some more fantastic music. Actually, this time, it was twice as good. The musicians were of much higher caliber, and they had a guest fiddler, whom I thought was outstanding. A man offered to buy me a drink, but of course, the only guy to hit on me the entire trip, was red-faced, ugly and old! What the hell!? Went to bed, had an OK sleep—too noisy for me.

May 12th, my last day. Let’s see if I can do this quickly…probably not…um…went to the Kilmainham jail tour, met a couple from Kingston, yep, I said Kingston! I couldn’t believe it either. The tour was the best touristy thing that I did, and at the end, I was hungry and needed to use the ‘toilets’, so as I approached the café; they had a photography exhibition. There was a guest/comment book, and as I went to write my name, I noticed that the couple, who signed just ahead of me, was from the same place I was. I couldn’t believe it; I did the blink your eyes thing, just like in a movie, to make sure I had seen it correctly. I was able to find them in the café, and....the story gets better...... they come to every Cantabile Concert and live just down on William St. Man, this world is way too small sometimes. We took our pic for the Kingston This Week “where have you been?” section, and I promised them I would submit it. We had a great chat, and I told them they won’t be able to miss me at the May 30th concert, since I have to introduce the guest conductor, and will be right up at the mic. Then I went to the National Museum and ran into a guy that had been at the jail tour. I asked him if he was following me. (I know, I’m nervy, but it felt like he was following me! I wasn’t rude about it…geez!) At that point, it was nearing 5pm, I was tired and very hungry. After an internet fix at the hotel restaurant, I went out for the highlight of my day….

The Literary Pub Crawl was pretty much what it sounds like, a great mix of bars and literature. Two actors recited or acted out various poems, plays etc of famous Irish authors in front of about 5 famous bars in Dublin. Little by little, the single folks in the group of 15 gravitated together, and we ended up ‘hangin’ for the evening. Once the crawl was over, we stayed at the Davy Byrne Pub, and closed the place. That sounds really amazing for someone my age, but they closed at midnight, so it wasn’t that wonderful a feat. But it does sound good, doesn’t it? Well, it does to me…3 new friends were made: Alex from Seattle, Washington, Frances from Melbourne, Australia, and Stan from Los Angeles, California. (in pic above) Not sure how old everyone is, but my guess would be between 30 and 42, interests/careers are in photography, writing, and computers/network security. All super nice, and a pleasure to be around. I didn’t want the night to end for various reasons, but I did manage to stumble off, somewhat intoxicated and yes, alone, and returned safely to my room, where I had a helluva time getting to sleep, but you’ve heard enough about my sleep issues in these notes. I went home on the 13th and clearly, I arrived safely. It was great to see the kids again, and I have since seen just about everyone in Kingston that really matters to me.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these notes. I’m glad that the chore of writing them is over, but also sad, because it means that my hectic, over-committed life is about to go full-throttle by Tuesday. I know, I have to do something about that too……maybe after the next trip......hmmm....me thinks Rhode Island, NYC and Mexico for sure...then Africa? South of France? Bali and Indonesia?

Warmly, Steph

Sunday May 10th, 2009, Mother's Day

Well, this is the weirdest Mother’s Day I’ve ever had in um……16 years. Not that it was a bad day at all. Finally, the weather was very SUNNY, yes sunny, you read that correctly!!! It wasn’t windy or cold either. OMG, I can hardly believe that I touched that combination of letters, can you? I got up at 10am. Mark is working on arranging an Irish folk tune, The Holy Ground, as a warm-up to something bigger and better while he’s in Belgium for a month, beginning tomorrow (he’d been up since 8am). Because the weather was nice, I thought we should try to get some more touring in. Not convinced he really wanted to, but he agreed. Ann, whose cottage we are renting, had indicated that the Ring of Skellig was a nice way to spend an afternoon, and we’d see a chocolate factory, no less! More driving, hurtling down roads that really only accommodate one car, and test every nerve in your body. OH! but the beauty, the sights were exceptional! Out of the middle of the ocean came this huge rock, they called it Ireland! It is indeed gorgeous when the sun shines around here. Easy to fall in love with the land and imagine a life in two countries.

In the late afternoon, I read The Irish Times, and packed up all my gear and gifts. We had omelettes for supper and packed a lunch for tomorrow. Went to bed about 10pm. Plan to catch the 1130am train from Cork to Dublin. Looking forward to being in the city tomorrow. Nice to talk to the family!!! I miss you boys!!!

Saturday, May 9th, 2009

Yesterday, was not a very nice day either. Funny how weather is such a part of life here in Ireland too. We have that in common with the Irish, I guess. Everyone talks about the weather every day here, so it’s hard for me not to dwell on it more than just a little bit in my notes.

We left the cottage about 12 noon, and went into Waterville, to check out a few stores, some that we’d been to and others that we hadn’t explored yet. Pete’s wasn’t open the first time we tried, so we went back later. We spent about 90mins there catching up on emails, downloading pictures. I found the access to the web very slow, but Mark didn’t seem to have an issue.
Pete is quite a character. He almost never said hello to me, and always to Mark. He shaves his head, he’s tall for an Irishman, and quite thin; a man of about 50-55, I would say. He runs the adjoining hostel as well, and each time I was there, he got into a heated conversation with someone on the phone or swore at his cell phone. (I presumed he got a message that he didn’t particularly like!) “Jaysus Christ, you fooking idiot!” He liked to listen to RTE (CBC of Ireland) where politicians or those aspiring to be, like to get into arguments with each other and the hosts. It drove us batty as we tried to concentrate on reading and writing. Twice, when he was outside or had gone over to the hostel, I leaned over and turned down the radio; he came back and turned it up! After the second time, he put a CD on; I think he got the message that we found it loud. The café was cold. Many places in fact were cold. I was often frozen despite dressing properly. Although we are accustomed to a colder climate, we are equally used to keeping our homes warmer than the Irish. It felt like Pete didn’t use heat, in fact.

After getting a few groceries, which we hoped would carry us over the weekend, we returned to the cottage and read and watched TV. I spent an inordinate amount of time organizing, editing and enhancing photos that I’ve taken over the past winter---stuff I NEVER do at home—I even learned how to use the collage feature on Picasa. About 10pm, we headed back to town, which is about a 5 minute ride, to the Lobster Bar, because they were having live music. Finally, about 11pm, he showed up. In the meantime, we listened to a group of men, from the Cork area, who were in there for a weekend of golfing together (18 of them), take turns singing various songs a capella. They ranged in age from about 30 to 65. Two of the men had beautiful voices, and the rest were brave souls indeed!!! A couple of the younger men in the group struck up a conversation with Mark and me. They were interested in our trip so far.

The entertainer did a good job. He had a nice voice, but didn’t toss up his music selection enough, and after a couple of hours, they all sounded the same. He did however, allow anyone who wanted to, to come to the mic and sing. Both of the men who came forward were pretty good. There were a lot of folks there from a wedding we thought. Later in the evening, out came the food. It was hard to tell if it was part of the party or just what they do at the bar. Anyhow, we were handed a plate of nibblies with wings, sausages, fries etc. It was fun to people-watch; a very drunk old woman, and a young couple groping each other helped to keep the laughs coming. I hate to be critical, but…the woman here, especially the young ones-15 to 40- are not very tasteful in their apparel. VERY short skirts, very high heels, and lots of cleavage are the norm. We got back about 130am, and I finally stopped singing to my tunes and shutting down my brain at 3am.

Friday May 8th, 2009

At 730am, we, once again, left for Killarney and the Ford dealership. They needed the car for the whole day to get the side fixed up. We were dropped off in the town and spent a couple of hours walking around and looking in stores, then about 1130am, we split up and planned to meet at 4pm, just before the ride back to Ford.

I made my way to the local library where I encountered my first rude Irish women. Not sure what I did to upset them or if I did anything, but she seemed irritated at my couple of questions. I got in trouble for plugging in my laptop, and most of the websites I tried to access didn’t work; honestly there was no pornography! I did however write up my diary for several days. Once my battery died, I headed down to the local internet café and then spent 90 minutes there downloading pics, answering work emails and getting all caught up with life in general.

We got away from Killarney about 530pm, drove back to Waterville and had a pint at The Fisherman’s Bar and then home to have a light supper and watch TV. Sure hope the weather gets a little nicer. Had I known, I would be so cold, I’d have brought my long johns and fleece pants. It’s just so damp. Any dreams of ever living here are now gone cause I couldn’t bear the weather or the cold. They don’t have enough nice days. Better to come and visit now and again, I think.

Last night, I watched the Late, Late show, and saw Martin Sheen and Colim Toibin interviewed and watched some important Irish men and women fight about their political system. Now on the radio, they are at it again. How annoying! The Irish also like to argue about politics!

Met some men here golfing from Boston for 4 days. Long way to come for 4 days, but they were happy.

So far, it has been a great holiday but I am longing to be home. Hopefully the next 4 days will go quickly. I don’t want to wish the time away, so am trying to keep the chin up. Some sun would help, I’ll tell you that.

Thursday, May 7th, 2009

Yesterday, we took the very scenic and very windy route into Killarney. It was gorgeous but frightening from many perspectives: the road was narrow, it wound like a serpent regardless of whether or not we were actually climbing a mountain. Most of the way along the roads, there are hedgerows which obstruct your ability to see oncoming cars and don’t allow for any perspective as to where the road goes, or who may be on it, coming from the other direction.

Eventually, we arrived at our intended destination: the local FORD dealership. (The car we rented is a Ford.) Earlier in the week, backing up the driveway at the cottage, we scraped against a cut-off tree that neither of us saw until it was too late. It resulted in a dint. With a deductible of 1600 euro, we felt it was best to try to fix it ourselves. (We’d decided to forgo the 100% deductible coverage when we picked up the car, something, by the way, that I would recommend because the roads are so narrow, and we are unaccustomed to driving so tightly to other vehicles, walls and edges of roads. The next time, I think I would make the investment because it would be so easy to have a scrape or to lose a mirror or to wreck the alignment.) It was quickly assessed at 400 euro and booked for the next day, Friday. They’d need it all day, so we decided that if we had to spend the next day in Killarney, we’d best move towards the Dingle peninsula, and the town of Dingle.

Dingle is a wonderful, quaint and colourful town of interesting stores, galleries and restaurants/bars, as well as a church a two. The weather there was horrendous to say the least; a wind that cut right through the clothing, despite layers. The temp was no more than about 12C, with occasional sprinkles of rain. Early in the trip, an Irishman told us that you can literally look one way and the sun is out, and look the other and it’s teaming rain. So I have been imagining myself with my arms outstretched, and rain hitting one arm but not the other......I know, I'm losing it!!!

We shopped in the stores, mostly for respite from the cold and wind. I have my Spyder coat that is wind and waterproof, but I couldn’t convince Mark to explore the marina area down at the water! (Oh ya, I had the wool hat on that I bought as a gift too, so I was quite comfortable actually.) At the Dingle bookstore, I bought Nuala O’Faolain’s posthumous new book, Best Love, Rosie. All the way home, after the Connor Pass experience was over, all I could think about was getting it started. I guess Frankenstein will just have to wait. (I know, I know, but I am trying to read the English classics that I missed because I studied French and French Literature my whole life!)

On the way back to the cottage, we took the Connor Pass. Well, I thought I’d have to change my pants and take a nitro pill, and I don’t suffer from incontinence or angina!!! Although gorgeous, the experience was nerve wracking as hell. Between the roads and the height, I was glad to get off of there. I kept having to remind myself to take in the beauty of it all…take in the beauty…yoga breath….take in the beauty……oh my god….take in the beauty…I can’t look down…..yoga breath….isn’t this beautiful, Mark….thank god, we’re finally off that road!!! Poor Graham would have been in VERY bad shape. In fact, there’s absolutely no possible way he could make this journey until he’s the one who can drive. Between the height (it’s on the edge, like the Avalon Peninsula in NFLD, but roads are much more narrow and in poorer shape.) and the motion sickness, we would have had to admit him to the hospital. (I’m not exaggerating, for those of us who have had the pleasure of cleaning up the car on a car ride with Graham!) Graham, if you come before you’re an adult, someone will have to stay in Dublin with you, while the others do the road trip thing!

After 6 hours of driving today, we arrived back in Waterville, and ate at our favourite pub, Fisherman’s Bar. The lamb shank was the best lamb I have ever eaten, as was the sticky butterscotch pudding that I had. It’s not what it sounds like; it was kind of like a cross between a pound cake and a Christmas cake, soaked in a warm butterscotch sauce, with whip cream and ice cream on the side. I had a big meal and then ate all of the dessert! I just couldn’t leave any of that cake…oh ya, two glasses of Murphy’s Irish beer too! Nuala and I went to bed at a reasonable hour and read for quite a while!

Wed, May 6th, 2009

The weather today was the shits to say the least. It’s what the Irish say their weather is like. It was a slow, relaxing day. In the morning, I mentioned to Mark that I really needed a day just to do some things both personal and work-related on the computer. I tackled most of what was hanging over my head for the past week that I’d brought with me to accomplish. I will probably finish the rest on the weekend or when I’m back in Dublin next week.

We went back and forth to the internet café in Waterville, had tea, coffee, scones and brownies. We also froze our asses off, frankly! The Irish don't heat their homes like we do in North America. At Pete's, I always had to keep all of my clothes/coats on at all times. By the time we'd leave, I couldn't feel my fingers! After the second trip into town, we stopped at the same bar as yesterday and had a Guinness and a Murphy’s, and at 6pm, they served food, so we had some ‘chips’ and watched RTE One where Hilary Clinton apologized for the significant civilian deaths in Afghanistan today. Maybe we should come home?! Anyhow, the weather was wicked when we walked out of there, and our warmed up bodies quickly felt chilled again.

It is amazing how late the sun sets here. Tonight it was somewhere around 9pm. Mark is struggling to keep a fire going tonight. The wood he bought at the hardware store is very wet and just won’t stay lit. He is persistent like Kevin!!!

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

I got up after nearly 11 hours of sleep at 1045am; a clear indication of how tired I was. I honestly could not think straight. I felt like I couldn’t concentrate for very long, and was very distractible. I felt much better after I got up and had a coffee. We went to town and found an internet café and coffee shop called Pete’s Place. Pete shaves his head, is about 50 years old, and talks really fast with a thick accent. He bakes-- well someone bakes---nice treats every day, scones, carrot cake, brownies, almond cake, whiskey cake (much like our Christmas cake) and a marble loaf were all available when we arrived. We walked up and down the main highway, checking out the stores and shops that were open; several were not however. The season is really just beginning for them. We found a nice gift shop that we want to head over to on the weekend before we leave, we said hello to Charlie Chaplin, who spent a lot of time in the area. We spent time in the post office and both bought postcards and stamps, and finally we got our groceries. The veggies are definitely not as nice as at home—we had a lot of trouble getting fresh lettuce, oil and vinegar. Also, folks still buy their meat in the butcher shops, so we picked up some really nice chicken. It was much fresher than we are accustomed to in the grocery stores at home.

Later in the day, we went down the road that takes you to the opposite side of the lake from where we are staying. The lake is called Lough Currane. There was a sign off the highway that said there was an art gallery 8 km down the road, so we ventured forth. Eight kilometers down a dirt road, that is only wide enough for one car, can take a long time. We never did find the art gallery, which I suspect was actually in someone’s home, and likely had not opened for the season either. We were convinced that the road would take us all around the lake, but about three quarters of the way around, we ended up on a farm, practically in the barn! Too funny. The views were really quite beautiful and we got several nice pictures. I am trying hard to get my pics posted on the web, and hope, before the week is out, to upload them. (It may have to wait though because I don’t think the internet connection at Pete’s is high speed.)

We came to the cottage, made supper, and then went back to town for a pint at a local pub. It was really quite nice, filled with mostly men, wanting to watch the soccer game between Manchester United and another team that I can’t remember. Soccer, rugby are like hockey in Canada. They are passionate and very serious about their sports.

Monday, May 4th, 2009

Mark and I met up about 10am to try to iron out his flight to Amsterdam once the west coast trip is over for us. We grabbed a cab and headed for the airport. The car rental went fine and we were able to switch the manual for an automatic transmission, having forgotten ,when I booked it, that you’d have to switch gears with the left hand. He wasn’t too keen on that.
We’d been told that the trip from Cork to Waterville would take a couple of hours, however with stops and the cautious driving (no complaints from me.), it ended up taking us about 3.5hrs, we arrived about 3-330pm in the afternoon at the cottage.

It is very nice, simply decorated, but it has 1/1/2 baths, 3 bedrooms, a living room/dining area, and a large kitchen with all of the appliances, even a washer. It is up on a hill and overlooks Lake Currane (or Lough, pronounced lo). By far the most spectacular part about it is that it is full of perennial plants that we don’t see in our neck of the woods. Mom, you’d just die at the sight of the various rhododendrons. She has every colour you can imagine and they are in FULL bloom right now. If the weather would just get nicer, I could take pics for you that you just might be able to use for your cards. At night, given that there is not a lot of heat in the house, we were pretty chilly. There are two wall heaters and we had them cranked and the fire only had these black bricks, coal maybe? Anyhow, they don’t burn like wood and we both went to bed mostly because we were frozen! It’s called a cottage and it was just like being up at Canoe Lake some late August night!

Sunday, May 3rd, 2009

I got up early to make sure that I didn’t mess up or get stuck in traffic. For the first time since arriving, I set my blackberry alarm clock and the one on the TV. I took a taxi to the bus station, where I caught my bus ride to the airport, again as part of my hop on, hop off pass. A young nurse from Calgary sat right beside me. She’s met an Irishman while working in Australia a year or so ago, and had returned to Ireland from Calgary to visit him. She was headed to the airport to hop on a flight to Spain to meet up with her sister for a couple of days of her three week trip here. She mentioned several things to do while I was in the west, and it made the time to the airport go by very quickly. Getting there and finding my way around was very simple. I had carefully packed my bags so that my knapsack was in my small carry-on suitcase with my laptop and lots of other heavy things, and my big suitcase was my one allowable checked bag. Much to my dismay, the checked bag was 9 kilos overweight. Do you know how much money it costs to be 9 kilos overwt on Ryanair? Too f-ing much, I’ll tell you that. 135 euro, that’ how much! I nearly popped my pants!!! What was I to do. By the time I headed over to the desk to pay, she’d sent my bag through. I was seething for the entire flight.


My arrival in Cork was uneventful. I took a cab to the Ashley Hotel, which was basic, but clean and the owner was friendly. I settled in and then walked over to City Hall to try to meet up with Mark for the first time. He wasn’t sure what his afternoon held. I didn’t find him there but we later spoke on the phone and I met up with him for a bit in the afternoon. We had a bite to eat and caught up. He had to be at an awards presentation for 5pm, so I went back to the hotel, and met him at 715pm as previously arranged, in time for the 730pm concert.

The weather throughout the day was cloudy but I don’t recall that it rained. Not very warm though. By far, the highlight of Cork was the final concert. Mark left part way through, having heard most of the choirs already, and having had his fill of choral music. I, on the other hand, could have listened til midnight. The quality of half the group was excellent and the other half was superb. There were choirs from all over the world: Italy, Russia, Finland, Slovenia, and many from all over Ireland. The choirs were all different, some men and women, some just one or the other, some teen choirs and one children’s choir. For all the music lovers who read this, you should try to fit this into a trip sometime; you won’t be sorry. I left feeling inspired and rejuvenate from my sleep-deprived state.

I have to tell you about my sleep in Cork. First of all, as usual, I had trouble feeling tired, then about 330am, I got a phone call from Canada on my cell; someone who shall remain nameless, that forgot about the time change. That call lasted about 15 mins, then the bar let out that was beside the hotel, so it took me quite a while to get back to sleep, and finally about 6am, I had a dream. Not just any dream, but one that I have on a recurring basis once or twice a year. (Where's that doctor when you need him?!) I awoke to the sight of a druggy, digging their nails into me, trying to fight me off! All I could think was, for god sakes, does it get any worse than this?! Only a baby had made me feel like that…not the digging of the nails, but the sleep deprivation.

Saturday, May 2nd, 2009

Once again, getting to sleep was a hell of a problem. Someone said it takes a day for every hour of time change, so I have a while to put up with this yet. I spent the day doing a fair bit of walking, this time minus the computer, but with my journal, in case I felt so inclined. I toured Merrion Square, as well as St-Stephen’s Green, a lovely park, kind of like Central Park , but much smaller. The flowers and trees were in full bloom. I got some nice pictures, which I am hoping to be able to post to the web. I use Picasa and have noticed the button there AND I have a Google email address too—ever wonder how the heck we got by with only one email address just a few years ago!

Along Merrion Square, I came upon a Jewish wedding as the bride and groom exited (nobody in that family and circle of friends was short on cash; the clothing and cars were from a red carpet affair). I believe Gabriel Byrne lived right near there with his then love, Aine. Why do I know this? Because I read everything I can about him and discovered he lived on St-Stephen's Green way back when, so when I was walking down the street a little 'Gabriel bell' went off in my head, and I decided to seak him out....can you hear the Twilight Zone music playing now? I'm in love with him, so say the boys....perhaps....mostly, I think it's just an appreciaton for the finer things in life; in every way.....if every man thought like he did, our world wouldn't be such a screwed up place; Hollywood wouldn't exist either cause there'd be no one to photograph! Besides you have to admit, even at 59, and since he's lost a few pounds and cut his hair nice and short, he looks pretty damn fine. Sorry, I digress....

Because it was Saturday, there were lots of locals strolling, hand in hand or with baby carriages. The weather was terrific, actually hot in the sun, so people were sun bathing and visiting and reading and writing and taking pictures of the flowers. I sat and wrote in my journal for a bit, but don’t have it handy right now. On the outside, along the fences of Merrion Square, I looked at the art work and bought a small painting to commemorate the trip.

Unfortunately, I am writing this on the 8th of May, and I forget the small details. I know that I ate lunch at a Sparta just down the road, and watched the many throngs of people in red for Munster (Cork) and white, for Leinster (Dublin) walk past me with their back packs and flags and children headed to the biggest rugby match that Dublin and Ireland have seen for many decades. It was scheduled for 2pm. I heard afterwards that Leinster won, and that there had been 82,000 people in attendance. Seriously now, people in North America, can you imagine???!!! Imagine 82,000 people going to see a symphony or an opera or to a theatre production.....We think we are nuts about hockey in Canada, but we have nothing on these folks. There are betting stores all over Ireland, and putting money on the games is not illegal. Men, well mostly men, sit in bars every night and watch the soccer or rugby game and have a pint. I think I already mentioned how much more alcohol is a part of their culture, but it still astounds me. I don’t think I’d better marry an Irishman, at least not one that hasn’t immigrated to North America. I know I’m painting them all with the same branch, but the alcohol thing and the hanging in the bar thing to watch sports would quickly bother me. While I’m criticizing, I should add that they are almost all very polite, respectful and helpful t tourists, unlike (again, a broad paint brush here) New Yorkers and Parisiens.

After lunch and my walk to the parks, I spent the last hour or so of opening, at the National Library, taking in the Yeats Exhibition. Fascinating man, and uber-talented family. I got a few good shots of the buildings as well. For the life of me, I couldn’t find the National Museum, which according to a basic map that I had was right there as well! It wasn’t until many days later that I learned, via a guidebook, that the beautiful round building with huge columns and arches that I stood right beside to photograph was the Main Entrance!!! I will do that on Tuesday, when I return, because it is closed on Mondays.

Around the supper hour, I headed for the hotel pool again and did laps for a half hour or so. I had a glass of wine in the sitting room, which I later took to my room and started the long process of repacking my bags for the trip on Ryanair. Good Night beautiful room, good night Dublin.

May 1st, 2009

Today, I got up at 11am, and I MADE myself do so, cause I absolutely did not want to! I had a relaxing bath and got a bit more organized than I had been…never really took the time to unpack until then. About 12noon, I left, walked around the corner from the hotel and had chicken curry for BK and lunch! The coffee here is very strong, stronger than we make it, even at Starbuck’s. I used the whole little jug of milk and still it was dark!

Yesterday, I’d purchased a bus/tour pass that allows me to use the ‘hop on hop off’ buses, the city buses and the transportation back and forth to the airport. Some things here are a deal, like that, it was 25E ($40) for 3 days, and yet the food is very expensive. You are hard pressed to eat for anything less than 10E (which is $16.00 for us). My lunch would not have cost $10 at Curry Village. As I write, I am eating a stale cookie and a latte which was $8.00. Believe me I am not eating at fancy places!

I took the whole bus tour, about 90mins, to try to get my bearings around the city; there are few or no street signs, and where there are, they are tiled into the sides of bldgs about 10 feet into the street, so very difficult to spot, and nearly impossible at night. There are almost no straight streets, either, and the street names change frequently, kind of like Johnson becomes Queen Mary Rd, except it happens everywhere, and in just a single block sometimes. By the end of the night last night, I was pretty frustrated…lack of sleep didn’t help any though.

After the bus tour, I went to the tourist office to ask a few questions about the bus pass, so that I have it clear in my head for the trip back to the airport (I took a taxi to the hotel yesterday). Then I walked around the Trinity College Campus, and took a tour through the library and to see the Book of Kells. The entire area is so interesting. Much like the rest of Europe, and unlike Canada, because the buildings are SOOO old! Everything around you was built 1600-1800. After that, I took a city bus trip out to one of the suburbs to see how the average folk live. It wasn’t very exciting, but I got a good walk in and saw how little $650,000 buys you here. I guess the closest comparison I can make would be some of the row houses just north of Queen on Montreal, just passed Artillery Park. Yep, that’s all you get! It just left me wondering how people live here. Like London ,England, I guess, where most people just don’t own a home. (I later learned they almost all do though!)

The economy is really bad here too, much worse than home. The Irish Times said that they could be looking at 17% unemployment in the next year. There are innumerable places ‘to let’. (Funny thing about that phrase ‘to let’…..Every time I saw a sign on the first day, I kept thinking “toilet’. I seriously thought they were signs for public washrooms. I’m sure it was the lack of sleep; my mind unconsciously registered toilet.) I don’t know what to do this evening. The staff at the hotel said that O’Donoghue’s was a good bar where they have music, so I will probably try that out, but not until I have Thai food at a place down the street called Papaya. The thought of finding the bar overwhelms me right now. I also want to go for a swim in this hotel’s pool. It looks amazing. I think I will eat my granola bar, and do that, then go out for supper. My back still aches from carrying around my laptop all day. (dumb, I know) Actually, I have to edit something for Graham first….not enough hours in the day when you get up at 11!

Yesterday, after arriving at the Merrion Hotel about 9am, I left my bags with the concierge because the room wasn’t ready, and headed across the street to the National Art Gallery for a couple of hours. When I came back, I tried to sleep but after 3 coffees, that wasn’t about to happen, although I did force myself to lie there for 2 hrs. I had supper at a restaurant called Grand Central, just down from the Abbey Theatre, Ireland’s National Theatre Co. Shakespeare’s, A Comedy of Errors was playing. It was modernized, with regards to the set and costumes, and a bit of music and dance. I didn’t enjoy the first half, probably, mostly because I was falling asleep, and having trouble understanding. By the 2nd half, everyone was laughing, including me. I met a really nice mother/daughter team from England. The elder was born and raised in Cork, so we got into a big discussion about how 1 day was definitely too little time, and what I should do in the one day that I have, and about the Choral Festival, and about Dublin in general. It was fun. That's the kind of thing I hoped would happen on this trip. I saw them walking near Trinity College today!

As I write this next part, it is 320am, Horowitz it playing Chopin on the blackberry, and I cannot sleep so what the hell, I'll tell you about the rest of my day......

I did in fact eat at Papaya. It is located in the basement of a beautiful set of Georgian row housing. The wine was great, the main course was fantastic: shaved beef, with coriander and asparagus, and a tonne of yummy garlic. The spring rolls left a lot to be desired and they were surely frozen from a box and not homemade like around the corner from my office. Eating alone is interesting isn't it? There were three groups of people, two of which celebrated birthdays for the men in the group (do men ever organize a birthday party for their wives?), two couples and myself. My waitress was middle aged, say 50ish, an Irish woman. (I make that distinction because she was the only one there who was not Asian.) She was excellent, sensing my hesitation at being offered a chardonnay (sorry Shelley, I know you're a true believer!) and after I'd agreed to it, came back with two bottles, one chardonnay, and one pinot grigio. I switched my choice. After my meal, she asked me where I was from, saying she couldn't quite place my accent. I thought that was sweet. Once I said I was Canadian, she gushed, and shared about family in Canada, and having recently been to Cuba, about all of the great Canadians she'd met there. I have noticed that the Irish are apologetic if they call you American. In fact, they apologize for even thinking you were American! It has happened to me several times in 24 hours. I take no offense at all, but they are truly mortified that they may have slighted you in some way. It's too funny. I don't think they like Bush here much either--taxi driver and the odd comment gave me that impression---welcome to almost everyone I know!

After supper, I walked around the corner to a bar called O'Donoghue's. It was PACKED! Friday night of a holiday weekend. I was quickly spotted by a young-25-Irishman with short red hair. He was cute enough, but the blue eyes were gorgeous! He was half in the bag, but polite and very friendly. He introduced himself, and his friends, another single man, and a young couple, James, Stephen, Cathy. I forget his name, sorry. It doesn't matter, he served his purpose; it got me gabbing with folks. Not long after he came up to me, he approached the couple behind me, and I overheard that they were from Holland, so after about 15mins of gabbing with Stephen and Cathy, I moved over to Mariel and David. We had a great discussion, and over the next 2 hours, I learned how to spot a man of Irish decent...Mariel had it down. Our red-headed friend introduced himself to EVERY woman who walked past him; he was highly entertaining, but he certainly would not have been able to be any fun for anyone, cause with all that beer, he would have definitely suffered from 'limp dick' tonight! Like Mariel said: He has more alcohol than wisdom. What a great expression; one I hope I won't soon forget.

Later, I tested Mariel's theory an how Irishmen look: there was a man, at the bar, talking to my new Irish acquaintances. He looked to be in his 50s, with a woman, his grey hair tied in a small ponytail; I said: so is he Irish. Absolutely not! she says. He spots us and comes over the 4 feet that we are apart, and opens with some funny line about Bush. I said oh, he's from the Northeast USA. No, he says, from Utah/Oregon. That was it, now there were 4 of us gabbing, all visiting the city. About 30 minutes later his wife joined in. Their names are Cindy and Kim. They are avid runners, and came her last year to do the Dublin Marathon. They've done Boston many times. Kim is an optometrist (Come on, being North American, we had to talk about what we do for a living.) and Carol runs his business. When they get home next week, they have to pack up and move to Oregon, to be closer to two of their children and grandchildren, where they are starting a new practice. We got an famously, talking about book clubs, children, the markets, Ireland, relationships. So, tomorrow, we are meeting at 830pm to go out together---the 5 of us. I'm so excited!!!! This is exactly what I wanted to have happen....well that too but, I'm not going to be stupid about it....and if I am, I won't tell you about it!!!!

At 1230am, I came back to the Merrion, and just about everyone here was wasted. I'm dead serious! I didn't feel tired at all, so I came to the bar here called No 23. There wasn't a soul in there and the bartenders were bored, so I ordered a Tipperary spring water and started up a conversation with the young bartender. He's lived here since he was 6, and seemed interested in my travels; just being polite, I'm sure. 5 mins in, 2 drunk men came in, one was really loaded, to the point where he couldn't talk. I helped him find the bathrooms in the basement; I thought for a moment that it wouldn't be so smart to walk down the stairs with him but seriously, he couldn't have hurt a fly in that shape. I came up and left him there to find his way back.....by some bloody miracle, he did! By then, there were for men in the bar, all heavily intoxicated (none as bad as the washroom man though). They were using the fuck word and apologizing; I said not to worry, I use it all the time myself, but they did actually stop. (There's an old-fashioned politeness here.) I eventually took my water out into the seating area and sat on a comfy couch. Now that's when the action started!!!! No sooner had I sat down, and another man of about 65 came in, also drunk! (Still not as bad as washroom man!) He went to the bar and got a water, as I had, and sat down in the comfy chairs too. His eyes were very heavy and he was a little unsteady. Within minutes, a young woman, who'd been seated in the room, walked up to him and sat on his lap!!!! No shit!!!! I burst out laughing and immediately began 'pinning' a friend to tell them the blow by blow. She told him she wanted to be his friend, and where was she and could he talk to her friend to come get her, and blah, blah, blah. I couldn't believe mine eyes!!! They had not seen glory, that's for sure. Humanity at it's finest, it was not. It wasn't long before staff knew something was up, and they started loitering around the room, with walkie-talkies. The older man did finally get her off of him (at first, I don't think he minded at all, but he soon realized that she was royally fucked up, and had enough sense to go to his room asap). I tried to be Florence Nightingale-like and get her to go to the reception area too, thinking that she might be reasonable with me. (she'd already ask the staff to be her friend too and to hug her and hold her.) But it didn't work at all, she latched on to me and kept asking me to be her friend and not to ignore her. Hey Dr Paul Weston, analyze that! I just ended up ignoring her and the staff blocked her physically from coming any closer to me. There was another couple my age there for a drink together, so we all have a story to tell our friends. It wasn't funny in the end, cause she was strung out on some drug. I can't believe I saw behaviour like I've never seen before and I had to come to the Merrion Hotel to get it! Who wouda thunk it!

Good night cause now, it's nearly 430am (1130EST) and I'm finally feeling tired. Guess I'm getting up at 11am again!

Adieu, adieu, adieu from Dublin my friends!

Trip to Ireland

Subject: I'm in Dublin safe and soundDate: Thu, 30 Apr 2009 07:14:16 -0400
Good Morning!

It’s 1130am for me. I have had 3 hrs of sleep, and that thanks to a comfy pillow I bought at the airport, earplugs, and 2 tylenol PM!!! I am in my room now, and internet works!! Yahoo!!!! Most important….

So far, Blackberry is not, so I am quite disappointed. I will email them next. I am going to try to sleep for 2 hours so I can actually function. I feel nauseated and off balance due, I presume, to lack of sleep. I just did the National Art Gallery to kill time till by room was ready. SO far it’s cloudy but supposed to be 15C and sunny this afternoon.

Already things to write about but too damn tired right now, so will wait til my day is done.