I am back from Ireland, obviously. Generally unscathed, apart from a cold picked up somewhere along the way. Who knew that the human nose could produce so much snot? I've been meaning to make this post for several days, but I've been huddled in my bed, surrounded by tissues, watching Due South. But today, my friends, today is the day!
As usual, the gods of travel frowned upon me and we almost missed our flight to Dublin after our train ran late because some fucker's refused to get out of first class, even though they didn't have first class tickets. Then, to add insult to injury, the train terminated at Manchester Piccadilly instead of Manchester Aiport, so we had to scramble to get onto another one. Arrived at Manchester Airport we discovered that we had completely underestimated the security measures in place. Fucking hell, I get that terrorism is bad and that no one wants to be responsible for a plane suddenly blowing up mid-air, or mid-building, but what is going on? It's madness! When I flew from the same airport at Christmas, security was nowhere near as tight, and surely Christmas is a bigger risk period? We finally made it through security and almost missed our plane in the process, but I am happy to announce that we made it to Dublin in one piece.
We dumped our bags, devoured some food and then went on a general walkabout of the city. Which is where I spied the most fantastical eaterie ever (note: click on a picture for a bigger version):
Alas, we had already eaten, so I didn't have the pleasure of going in and stealing a variety of Captain America napkins etc. Once I'd finished admiring Captain America's we headed to St. Stephen's Green, a park in the city centre, which I have to say was just beautiful. There are busts of famous Irish people scattered throughout, including James Joyce (pictured below) and Countess Markevich.
My Countess Markevich photo turned out crappy, unfortunately, but you can have one of the really rather odd state of Wolfe Tone instead. Wolfe Tone is one of the great Irish patriots, having played a major part in the 1798 Rebellion, so one would think that he'd deserve a better statue. The only thing my Canadian tripmates had to say about it was 'that is one huge crotch'. A fitting tribute, I'm sure!
Speaking of the Canadians, it was at this point that I began to suspect that they weren't particularly interested in Irish history, which was unfortunate, because most of the stuff I know about Dublin has something to do with history. Plus, Irish history is interesting, damnit! Having stared at Wolfe Tone's crotch for an inappropriate amount of time, we went drinking. Which was great. Because I've missed Irish pubs. Of course, Dublin pubs are expensive, but it didn't matter. We met up with a friend of a friend who was very cute, which is always a bonus, because cute boys are a fantastic addition to any drinking session.
The next day we bought tickets for the open-topped bus tour and set off. I love open-topped bus tours. We had a discussion in one of my lectures about how they made people feel uncomfortable but that's bollocks. One of the things I particularly like about them, is you notice things that you wouldn't necessarily see from street level, things that aren't part of the tour, but are cool nonetheless.
One of the Canadian's wanted to visit the National Art Gallery, so we hopped off in Merrion Square and were distracted by Archbishop Ryan Park, which features what has to be the gayest statue ever. It's like the people involved in commissioning it went - 'Right lads, so this Oscar Wilde fella was a homosexual. I suppose that had better come across in the statue somehow. Any suggestions as to how we could do that?'
At some point, someone seems to have decided to add a touch of the modern to the Gayest Statue in the World and added these lovely plinth thingies covered with quotes from the man himself. I was quite taken with these, even if the quotes do look like graffiti - which I'm guessing was the intention.
I wasn't expecting too much from the National Gallery, mostly because I'm not a huge art buff, but I was really pleasantly surprised. The collection is really quite varied, and the portrait gallery, in particular was excellent. I came across a Caravaggio (yayness!) and also discovered that my favourite painting ever is housed there.
The Meeting on the Turret Stairs, is a watercolour painted in 1864 by Frederic William Burton, and I've loved it for as long as I can remember. I love the richness of the colours, the sense you immediately get of the forbidden nature of what you're seeing, the emotion. Love it. Unfortunately, it being a watercolour it's not on public display, but you can arrange to see it if you call in advance, so next time I'm in Dublin I'll definitely be paying it a visit.
You may or may not have heard me bitch about the goverment plans to build a motorway in an area that will deeply affect one of the richest archaeological landscapes in the country - The Hill of Tara. There have been all sorts of protests, but this road is going to happen, no matter what, because the government are money grabbing fucktards. Nonetheless, I was pleased to see these posters all over the city. This particular one was photographed right outside the government buildings which are located next to the National Gallery.
Before we departmented Merrion Square, we took a look at some of the beautiful Georgian buildings. Dublin has the highest concentration of Georgian buildings in the world, I believe. The buildings themselves are lovely, but it's the doors that grab your attention.
Doors photographed, we hopped back on the bus and next alighted at Dublin Castle. Just before we entered Dublin Castle itself, I spotted this odd little building (I had to look 'indigent' up. It essentially means the same thing as destitute):
Now, you probably don't know much about Dublin Castle, but, in a nutshell, it was the seat of the British government in Ireland during their entire occupation. It's here that they governed us from, and it's here that they finally transferred power back to us. So, naturally, it's quite an important place. Once again, the Canadian's showed themselves to be more or less unmoved by my historical gesticulations.
I was expecting great things from the guided tour of Dublin Castle, and was sorely disappointed. It was good tour, well given and interesting, but it barely touched on anything I wanted to hear about. It focused on how pretty everything was, and how it was just so great to have state occassions here because everyone was always impressed at the decor. And, oh, did we mention, we still have the throne! OMG! Barely anything at all was said about how the British actually used it to govern Ireland, or, in fact, how the Irish used it for the same purpose. I suppose, if you were just a general tourist and you knew nothing about the history of the place, you wouldn't be too bothered, but I don't really think that's the point. They did manage one mention of the 1916 rising, so I suppose I should be content with that:
Right across the road from Dublin Castle, I saw something which made me stop in my tracks. A restaurant had decorated its upper floors with a lightbox art installation featuring some of the major participants in the 1916 Rising. Which left we standing there going, 'what the fuck?'
Once I'd finished gawking, we went around the corner to Christ Church Cathedral which was built in 1038 and can boast of the largest crypt in the British Isles. It also houses the heart of St Laurence O'Toole. Yes, you did read that. It has the heart of a saint. In a metal heart-shaped container.
It also displays the mummified remains of a cat and a rat which appear to have been trapped in the organ pipes in the 1860s.
There really are no words. Apart from these rather macabre displays, it really is a spectacular building. You'll have to keep in mind that I'm an archaeologist here - It has the most spectacular floor tiles I've ever seen. They're just stunning. My love of guidebooks extended to me buying one dedicated solely to the floortiles, and it was worth every penny (cent, really, I suppose) I spent on it.
And then we went to the Guinness Brewery. Which is something I've been meaning to do for years. First things first, you don't actually see any part of the working factory. What you see is a really well thought out display which brings you through all the stages of making Guinness. I have to say, I was disappointed not to see the real thing though. Anyway, the building is the beautiful old industrial monster that they've done a really good job of modernising without taking away any of its charm.
The various displays were interesting and informative, giving details on the ingredients and processes used, as well as showing Guinness ads and various merchandise from throughout the years (I took a million pictures of this particular bit of the tour). And, there's a waterfall. Seriously.
And then there was more drinking. We went to Whelan's to see The Cooper Temple Clause. I wasn't expecting much, given how disappointed I'd been in the recent album, but they were fantastic. I loved every second of it. I'm still not the hugest fan of their latest album, but the songs do sound better live.
A friend of mine from my last master's came and met up with me and we had a very drunken night, even though the Canadian's abandoned us half way through.
And then, it was time to return to Sligo. Home - hurrah! I have to admit, I let the Canadian's do most of the sightseeing themselves, preferring to laze about in bed watching TV, or spend some time with my Mum. I did go to Glencar Waterfall though, which I always enjoy seeing, no matter how many times I go.
And there's one last picture, which I thought might amuse![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
mizzmarvel and kayim, amongst others.
It was great to be home. I really do feel much better having been back, despite the cold. Of course, the journey back to York took eleven hours, which is an absolute bitch, but these are the sacrifices you make ;)
In fact, I've already arranged another trip back to Ireland, but this time I'm going to Cork for a weekend of heaving drinking and partying with some friends from my last University. Yay!
As usual, the gods of travel frowned upon me and we almost missed our flight to Dublin after our train ran late because some fucker's refused to get out of first class, even though they didn't have first class tickets. Then, to add insult to injury, the train terminated at Manchester Piccadilly instead of Manchester Aiport, so we had to scramble to get onto another one. Arrived at Manchester Airport we discovered that we had completely underestimated the security measures in place. Fucking hell, I get that terrorism is bad and that no one wants to be responsible for a plane suddenly blowing up mid-air, or mid-building, but what is going on? It's madness! When I flew from the same airport at Christmas, security was nowhere near as tight, and surely Christmas is a bigger risk period? We finally made it through security and almost missed our plane in the process, but I am happy to announce that we made it to Dublin in one piece.
We dumped our bags, devoured some food and then went on a general walkabout of the city. Which is where I spied the most fantastical eaterie ever (note: click on a picture for a bigger version):
Alas, we had already eaten, so I didn't have the pleasure of going in and stealing a variety of Captain America napkins etc. Once I'd finished admiring Captain America's we headed to St. Stephen's Green, a park in the city centre, which I have to say was just beautiful. There are busts of famous Irish people scattered throughout, including James Joyce (pictured below) and Countess Markevich.
My Countess Markevich photo turned out crappy, unfortunately, but you can have one of the really rather odd state of Wolfe Tone instead. Wolfe Tone is one of the great Irish patriots, having played a major part in the 1798 Rebellion, so one would think that he'd deserve a better statue. The only thing my Canadian tripmates had to say about it was 'that is one huge crotch'. A fitting tribute, I'm sure!
Speaking of the Canadians, it was at this point that I began to suspect that they weren't particularly interested in Irish history, which was unfortunate, because most of the stuff I know about Dublin has something to do with history. Plus, Irish history is interesting, damnit! Having stared at Wolfe Tone's crotch for an inappropriate amount of time, we went drinking. Which was great. Because I've missed Irish pubs. Of course, Dublin pubs are expensive, but it didn't matter. We met up with a friend of a friend who was very cute, which is always a bonus, because cute boys are a fantastic addition to any drinking session.
The next day we bought tickets for the open-topped bus tour and set off. I love open-topped bus tours. We had a discussion in one of my lectures about how they made people feel uncomfortable but that's bollocks. One of the things I particularly like about them, is you notice things that you wouldn't necessarily see from street level, things that aren't part of the tour, but are cool nonetheless.
One of the Canadian's wanted to visit the National Art Gallery, so we hopped off in Merrion Square and were distracted by Archbishop Ryan Park, which features what has to be the gayest statue ever. It's like the people involved in commissioning it went - 'Right lads, so this Oscar Wilde fella was a homosexual. I suppose that had better come across in the statue somehow. Any suggestions as to how we could do that?'
At some point, someone seems to have decided to add a touch of the modern to the Gayest Statue in the World and added these lovely plinth thingies covered with quotes from the man himself. I was quite taken with these, even if the quotes do look like graffiti - which I'm guessing was the intention.
I wasn't expecting too much from the National Gallery, mostly because I'm not a huge art buff, but I was really pleasantly surprised. The collection is really quite varied, and the portrait gallery, in particular was excellent. I came across a Caravaggio (yayness!) and also discovered that my favourite painting ever is housed there.
The Meeting on the Turret Stairs, is a watercolour painted in 1864 by Frederic William Burton, and I've loved it for as long as I can remember. I love the richness of the colours, the sense you immediately get of the forbidden nature of what you're seeing, the emotion. Love it. Unfortunately, it being a watercolour it's not on public display, but you can arrange to see it if you call in advance, so next time I'm in Dublin I'll definitely be paying it a visit.
You may or may not have heard me bitch about the goverment plans to build a motorway in an area that will deeply affect one of the richest archaeological landscapes in the country - The Hill of Tara. There have been all sorts of protests, but this road is going to happen, no matter what, because the government are money grabbing fucktards. Nonetheless, I was pleased to see these posters all over the city. This particular one was photographed right outside the government buildings which are located next to the National Gallery.
Before we departmented Merrion Square, we took a look at some of the beautiful Georgian buildings. Dublin has the highest concentration of Georgian buildings in the world, I believe. The buildings themselves are lovely, but it's the doors that grab your attention.
Doors photographed, we hopped back on the bus and next alighted at Dublin Castle. Just before we entered Dublin Castle itself, I spotted this odd little building (I had to look 'indigent' up. It essentially means the same thing as destitute):
Now, you probably don't know much about Dublin Castle, but, in a nutshell, it was the seat of the British government in Ireland during their entire occupation. It's here that they governed us from, and it's here that they finally transferred power back to us. So, naturally, it's quite an important place. Once again, the Canadian's showed themselves to be more or less unmoved by my historical gesticulations.
I was expecting great things from the guided tour of Dublin Castle, and was sorely disappointed. It was good tour, well given and interesting, but it barely touched on anything I wanted to hear about. It focused on how pretty everything was, and how it was just so great to have state occassions here because everyone was always impressed at the decor. And, oh, did we mention, we still have the throne! OMG! Barely anything at all was said about how the British actually used it to govern Ireland, or, in fact, how the Irish used it for the same purpose. I suppose, if you were just a general tourist and you knew nothing about the history of the place, you wouldn't be too bothered, but I don't really think that's the point. They did manage one mention of the 1916 rising, so I suppose I should be content with that:
Right across the road from Dublin Castle, I saw something which made me stop in my tracks. A restaurant had decorated its upper floors with a lightbox art installation featuring some of the major participants in the 1916 Rising. Which left we standing there going, 'what the fuck?'
Once I'd finished gawking, we went around the corner to Christ Church Cathedral which was built in 1038 and can boast of the largest crypt in the British Isles. It also houses the heart of St Laurence O'Toole. Yes, you did read that. It has the heart of a saint. In a metal heart-shaped container.
It also displays the mummified remains of a cat and a rat which appear to have been trapped in the organ pipes in the 1860s.
There really are no words. Apart from these rather macabre displays, it really is a spectacular building. You'll have to keep in mind that I'm an archaeologist here - It has the most spectacular floor tiles I've ever seen. They're just stunning. My love of guidebooks extended to me buying one dedicated solely to the floortiles, and it was worth every penny (cent, really, I suppose) I spent on it.
And then we went to the Guinness Brewery. Which is something I've been meaning to do for years. First things first, you don't actually see any part of the working factory. What you see is a really well thought out display which brings you through all the stages of making Guinness. I have to say, I was disappointed not to see the real thing though. Anyway, the building is the beautiful old industrial monster that they've done a really good job of modernising without taking away any of its charm.
The various displays were interesting and informative, giving details on the ingredients and processes used, as well as showing Guinness ads and various merchandise from throughout the years (I took a million pictures of this particular bit of the tour). And, there's a waterfall. Seriously.
And then there was more drinking. We went to Whelan's to see The Cooper Temple Clause. I wasn't expecting much, given how disappointed I'd been in the recent album, but they were fantastic. I loved every second of it. I'm still not the hugest fan of their latest album, but the songs do sound better live.
A friend of mine from my last master's came and met up with me and we had a very drunken night, even though the Canadian's abandoned us half way through.
And then, it was time to return to Sligo. Home - hurrah! I have to admit, I let the Canadian's do most of the sightseeing themselves, preferring to laze about in bed watching TV, or spend some time with my Mum. I did go to Glencar Waterfall though, which I always enjoy seeing, no matter how many times I go.
And there's one last picture, which I thought might amuse
mizzmarvel and kayim, amongst others.It was great to be home. I really do feel much better having been back, despite the cold. Of course, the journey back to York took eleven hours, which is an absolute bitch, but these are the sacrifices you make ;)
In fact, I've already arranged another trip back to Ireland, but this time I'm going to Cork for a weekend of heaving drinking and partying with some friends from my last University. Yay!
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