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Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dubliners 


So, the TH Son and I spent the afternoon wandering around Dublin, getting back to the hotel in the 'burbs by around 7 p.m. I had a business dinner, and he was able to get a second nap. We are both now awake later than we ought to be on account of jet lag, which I hope will subside soon (recognizing, obviously, that blogging is not a great way to make oneself drousy, whatever the effect out there in Readerland). Anyway, here are some pictures from the day's exploration, which included a walk through Trinity College, shopping on Nassau and Grafton streets, Dublin Castle, and a visit to a pub that purports to date from the 1690s.


Trinity


Oscar Wilde's birthplace, Dublin


The TigerHawk Son in Dublin


You have to admit that the TH Son looks great sporting his old man's colors (buy TigerHawk stuff here!).


Tarts!


Tarts


Farrington's of Temple Bar, allegedly founded in 1696, which was a long farookin' time ago:


Farrington's


Inside...


Farrington's Pub


...and the black gold...


Guinness in Farrington's pub, Dublin


The next couple of days the Son will be on his own in Dublin while I sit through long meetings discussing countless poorly-crafted Powerpoint slides. I envy him so much. Do you remember the first time you were alone in a foreign city with nothing but time to explore and see and learn? If you were young enough, you can probably still remember what a glorious feeling that was.


5 Comments:

By Blogger Counter Trey, at Wed Jul 16, 07:26:00 PM:

I love Old Glory flying over Farrington's. The inside looks just like PJ Clark's on Third Avenue.  

By Anonymous Anonymous, at Wed Jul 16, 09:04:00 PM:

Pat him down to make sure he doesn't have a passable ID or he just might make the acquaintance of that Guiness. AAAh...the two minute pour.

Been dere; done dat.

JLW III  

By Anonymous Anonymous, at Wed Jul 16, 10:42:00 PM:

I think he could probably be served a Guinness without ID. Drinking age in Ireland is 18, which means in practice if you can see over the top of the bar. Son might want to check out the Bronze Age gold and the Iron Age bog bodies at the National Museum on Kildare Street (free!). The Ferryman Pub on Sir John Rogerson's Quay serves a good carvery lunch at a more reasonable price than downtown.  

By Blogger J, at Wed Jul 16, 11:08:00 PM:

If he isn't 18, it is a shame, as the Guiness Factory actually provides a pretty interesting and informative tour of their factory. I remember being there exactly 1 year ago and marveling at the view from atop the factory, with the 360 degree view of the city. The number of construction cranes was astounding - a true testament to the breakneck speed with which Ireland's economy exploded, an EU anomaly. I understand the growth has abated a bit since then. What is your impression of the current economic situation?  

By Anonymous Anonymous, at Thu Jul 17, 03:14:00 PM:

An Iowa/Midwest versus NE perspective with regard to the Queen of Tarts, in business for over 300 years. I have read that many Midwesterners and Iowans laugh at some NE road/street names, finding them pretentious.

If some pretty sounding street name comes from a 20 year old suburban development, the Midwesterners have a point. However, many NE road/street names are hundreds of years old. There is a road in my hometown named after a Revolutionary War hero, with a corresponding statue of the hero at the State Capitol. A long time town official, who did not have a gram of pretension in his body, was a descendant of that Revolutionary War hero. He also lived on the road named after the family hero.

At the regional high school I attended the next town over, one of my sister’s classmates had the same name as yet another Revolutionary War hero with a corresponding statue at the town capitol. Yes, the classmate was from the Revolutionary War hero’s family. His sister was in my class.

(Note also that neither of those descendants made a big deal about their famous ancestors.)

Sorry Midwesterners, it ain’t pretentious. It’s reality.
”The past is not dead. In fact, it's not even past.” William Faulkner  

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