Do I wake or sleep?

Woke up the next morning and enjoyed an amazing, full Irish breakfast. I mean FULL--muffins, sausage, pudding (British puddings, kind of stuffed and solid), toast, eggs, coffee. So much deliciousness. And now what to do--this was my last day at this B&B (since I'd missed the first day) and I had to relocate to the hostel. But I wanted to sightsee as well--should I drag my stuff to the hostel, knowing my room might not be ready yet, or leave my luggage at the B&B for later pickup? The B&B proprietress said there was a luggage dropoff service right in the center of the city, very close to the hostel--in the end I figured it would probably be easier not to have to come back to Ballsbridge, so I checked out and took a bus to the foot of O'Connell Bridge, which connects with O'Connell Street, a main drag in Dublin. It is a wide avenue with a central median strip, very continentally elegant. I lugged my stuff over to the hostel, which is a pretty well-known one in Dublin, called Isaacs Hostel, converted from a wine cellar.




Luckily my room was ready, yay!--so I dropped off my stuff and went a-roaming.

I went back across the bridge, looking for the Molly Malone statue--Dublin isn't that big (NYC is much bigger) but it can be tricky to find your way for a couple of reasons. 1) They don't have a grid, it's one of those pre-modern European cities where the streets just sort of--bloomed, so to speak (sorry, Joyce!). 2) A LOT of streets seem to change names kind of arbitrarily.


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Notice how Dame Street suddenly turns into Lord Edward Street...and then Christchurch Place? YEAH. Confusing. But I did find Molly and her ta-tas:



One of the first Irish songs I ever learned. I kind of like the possibility that she may have also been a prostitute (catering to the students of Trinity College, in one account!)--I find it interesting that as much prostitutes are so looked down on and degraded and scapegoated, that time can soften that viciousness into something more poignant. As Mary Oliver said

sin blooms, then softens,
like any bed of flowers.

I did a bit of shopping, and then set off for Dublin Castle. This is old, old, old--it was a castle/fortress commissioned by King John and then the seat of power and administration ever since. It's a hodge-podge of different architectural styles because it's been rebuilt so much, because the place keeps getting blown up!--naturally the medieval ones interested me the most.



Check out that tower! That's the only part left from what was originally commissioned by John in 1204--the chapel on the left, though it looks medieval, is actually an example of the Gothic revival of the 18th-19th centuries. But there's even OLDER stuff on the grounds, if you can believe it--when they were doing restoration in the 1980s they uncovered part of another tower (p[art of the same design) that was built on top of the original VIKING fortification, with part of a MOAT where the Rivers Poddle and Liffey meet. SO EFFING COOL. The pool where the two rivers meet was dark--it was a dubh linn, a black pool, and so the city for its name. The Poddle now runs underground in Dublin. I love how even the river names are adorable in Ireland. Liffy. Poddle.




Normans knew how to build. Look at how thick that wall is.



Check that shit OUT. A by-God MOAT. Built over the river that gave the city its NAME.

The interior was interesting as well--there is where they kept prisoners of the Easter Uprising just before they executed them, and we were actually in the room where they kept James Connelly, one of the leader of the Easter Rising. There's also a wall where all the Irish Presidents (including the last one and present, both WOMEN!) put their personally-designed coats of arms. Being a bit of a design geek, I had to take a picture of one of the ceilings:



Isn't that gorgeous?

After the tour I went outside I was trying to decide between going on the Guinness tour that day and maybe seeing Christchurch the next day, and ended up deciding on the Guinness tour. I figured I'd walk there--it shouldn't take me more than 15 minutes, even though the sun had gone down (since it was now after 4). But after getting off the track a couple of time (though I did get a nice picture of Christchurch from the outside--Lambert Simnel was crowned there), I gave up on the Guinness (they close at 5), and walked back to the city center.



The River Liffey at night, shot from the Millennium Bridge.