Ireland 2023

[Greg]

May 15 Dublin

I love staying with the Chairman at his house, but there was one major drawback I had not encountered the last time I stayed there. The Chairman did run one of the biggest tech companies in Ireland and pioneered the redevelopment of the Docklands. Because of his public profile, he was subject to security threats. To counter that certain security measures were put in place in his house. One of which I encountered several times a night. I am at an age where I pee frequently. My diabetes which leads to thirst also plays a role. When I leave the nice and dark bedroom and enter the main hallway to head for the bathroom, bright lights come on and that’s not annoying at all. No, sir. It happens every time. The more times I have to go the more times I get to see the bright lights.

During one of those times, as I try to settle down after the blinding bathroom visit, I have a terrible thought. What if what is bothering me isn’t just a cold? What if I have Covid. I’m out in the world now where Covid is a threat. I could have Covid. Which leads me to the next through. What if I have Covid and I’ve infected the house? That would be a fine thank you for the Chairman’s hospitality. I lie awake for a long time thinking about the possibility I’m a plague bearer. 

Later, as the house starts to stir, I find the Chairman and I talk to him of my realization. Because the Chairman is the best host in the world, he tells me not to worry, something I’ve been doing for the last several hours. He has test kits in the house and I take one. I wait the nervous fifteen minutes and I’m ecstatic to find I’m just a sick person not a Covid carrier. 

Our original plan for this day was to travel north of Dublin and see Newgrange, Trim Castle, Bective Abbey and Mellifont Abbey. So much walking. I cancelled those plans and decided to stick to Dublin and the city sights. One of those sights was the Ardagh Chalice and other treasures at the National Archaeological Museum. I’d been seeing the Chalice and the Tara Broach, probably time to see them in real life. I don’t know if I read it or saw it but I found out the National Museum had wheelchairs for patrons. Being a rational person, I figured I should call the museum at 5:30am, I am up, and see about reserving one. Now, I knew this was crazy when I called. Who would be up at 5:30 at the museum to answer calls from crazy Americans? Turns out security monitored the phones and they picked. Not only that, they put in my reservation for a wheelchair. And when the guard learned that he had given me an inaccurate opening time for the museum, he called me back to make sure I knew the right time for the museum. I love the Irish.

The Museum didn’t open until 1 so we had plenty of time to do other things in the morning. There was really only one thing to do. The Queen and I headed back to St. Michen’s. This was the trip on which I was going to see the mummies. And the reason to go to St. Michel’s was to see the mummies. We arrived right at 10 to make sure we could get in and were met with the lock door. I feared we had run afoul of some new scheduling problem and would be denied access. I also wanted to get inside, because I really needed to use a restroom. A few minutes later the door opened to assuage my fears. We still needed to wait some more for our guide. I was informed there was no restroom. Can’t have night soil leaking into sacred ground. The Queen told me I probably didn’t need to go all that badly, anyway. The nice lady at the front counter then said there was a toilet but she needed the guide to watch the desk while she showed me the toilet. It all finally worked out but I didn’t get a chance to read all the plaques inside St. Michen’s before we went on the tour.

The entrance to the crypts were through stone portals covered by steel doors down very uneven steps. Our guide was off. He had a strange way of speaking that blended with the gothic atmosphere of the crypts. And there were plenty of chambers. The first one held the mummies that everyone talks about. Limestone in the building stones helps remove water from the atmosphere which preserves the mummies naturally. Several years back there was vandalism in the crypt and they had to replace one of the mummies with a new mummy. You can tell the new mummy because it is much darker than the other mummies. The new mummy hasn’t been coated by a layer of dust thrown up by all the visitors traipsing through. Several of the vaults remained dark because they were still in use by families. The church wanted to show respect for the dead. Oddly, the first crypt ended abruptly in a stone wall about halfway across the width of the church. Our guide did not know why this was done. In the other crypt our tunnel ran the entire length of of the church. The other crypt had a vault where the remains of the Sheares brothers were interred. They were part of the 1798 rebellion. One of the stories you read about the Sheares brothers is they were in Paris for the revolution and the execution of King Louis the 16th. They carried a handkerchief they dipped in the king’s blood after the execution. Also in the vault with the Sheares is the death mask of Wolfe Tone, one of the 1798 rebellion leaders.

At one point I had heard that Handel had used the organ in the Church above to help compose his Messiah. And that the first performance of the piece was in St. Michen’s. Our guide said no. According to him the Messiah was pretty much written before Handel left England and he performed it at the port while waiting to depart. Still doesn’t mean he didn’t practice up stairs in the church. We made our way up the treacherous stone stairs and left the crypt.

We returned to the Chairman’s house to pick up the Queen Mum. The Chairman was surprised we had made the journey to and from town so quickly. Our plan was to have lunch first before visiting the museum. I was going to park first but Google Maps led me on to a street where there was supposed to be a parking lot right near the museum but the street was impassable due to construction. There may have been an illegal u-turn to get me away from the blockage. I elected then to drop the Queen and Queen Mum off in front of Hugo’s on Merrion Row while I drove the streets to find parking. I remembered the Chairman said I could probably park in Merrion Square so I headed there. I managed to find parking on the square in the tiniest spot ever, paid for my slot at the curbside kiosk and headed to find the twosome at Hugo’s

Turns out Hugo’s was closed on Monday’s. It seemed every restaurant was closed on Monday. Once again listening to the Chairman, we decided to dine in the National Gallery of Ireland. There was some confusion about where they were in the National Gallery but we did meet up. The dining experience was less than great but it worked. The place was really crowded and noisy and the food came cafeteria style. They also needed a few more people busing tables.

At the Archaeology museum, I was worried to learn they had opened at 11 instead of 1 and that our wheelchair would have gone to the first patron. But no, our chair waited for us at the main desk. I’m sure the Queen Mum was thrilled to be finally sitting again after all the walking to get to the restaurant and then to the museum.

The treasures section of the museum where the Ardagh Chalice and the Tara Braoch reside was impressive. Lots of great treasures on display. I was happy that the Queen Mum had her chair, it gave her plenty of time to peruse the exhibits without worrying about fatigue, but my cold was starting to take it’s effect and the slow pace was dragging me down. I found on a lot of chairs to sit on while the women meandered through the exhibits.

The other reason to go to the Archaeological Museum is to see the bog bodies. As the name implies bog bodies are bodies found in bogs. But because of the nature of the nature of the chemicals in the water and lack of oxygen, the bodies don’t decay. They actually look like leather figures but they still have fingernails and hair, too. It’s all kind of creepy. The museum had four bog bodies on exhibit and using the power of the wheelchair we were able to go right up to the display cases.

I hoped we could sneak out the back door of the museum in order to save the Queen Mum some walking to the car. I noticed the back door when I dropped off the wheel chair. When I explained the situation to man in charge of the area, he reluctantly agreed to let us use the door. Total score. Until we went through the door and I realized it was just a side exit and we would still have to walk around the block to get to Merrion Square and the car. We walked about halfway there until I came to my senses. I made them wait while I got the car.

I watch a program on PBS called Ireland with Michael. Basically, Michael, goes around Ireland and finds places to go. I want his job. I want to make that show. Until then, I’m looking for him for tips. One of the tips was to go to a place called Taylor’s Three Rock. Taylor’s is a bar that also has an Irish Cabaret show. According to Michael, Taylor’s is very touristy but a good kind of touristy. And some times you have to do touristy. Best of all, Taylor’s was only a few miles from the Chairman’s house. I wouldn’t have to drive back into Dublin to attend. The Chairman declined to join us for this night of Irish music and dance.

Taylor’s Three Rock, Three Rock refers to a famous site from the 1798 uprising, is in a giant thatched roof cottage with a large parking lot with plenty of room for buses. On the downside there was a giant set of wooden stairs to ascend to the cabaret hall. But then we were rewarded with our own table. Everywhere else in the room were these long tables that seated thirty or forty people. Our table sat four. Granted the wall next to the table was adorned with a giant sign showing the way to the toilets but at least we wouldn’t be jockeying elbows with strangers. Our tickets for the show included dinner which was fine. My only complaint was the brown bread came prepackaged in cellophane and we only got one slice. The idea of me having only slice of bread with dinner is anathema. Although, the Queen got an extra glass of wine because I wasn’t going to be drinking mine.

Overall the show was entertaining. There were Irish step dancers. There was a balladeer. They had two musicians play a wide variety of instruments including a set of Uilean pipes. To be clear, one guy played about a dozen different instruments. The other guy played two.Still, they played them well. The whole show was an overview of Irish music from the popular “The Rising of the Moon” from the 1798 uprising to a really execrable U2 song. I think it was “Where the Streets have no Name” But that was only the really sour note. If you wanted to hear some Irish tunes and see some pretty good Irish dancers, you couldn’t go wrong with Tyler’s Three Rock. 

I thought we would be stuck forever getting out of the parking lot, but that was not the case. We slipped right out and were soon back at the Chairman’s House. The best part of coming home was that Mrs. Chairman had returned from her trip. We spent the time before sleeping catching up and sharing stories.

I spent another night wandering into the hall and being blinded by the lights as I made my way to the bathroom.

[Drunk Monk]

As if I didn’t have a hard enough time reading posts on my liephone…

[Greg]

That's tiny!

[Greg]

May 16 Dublin

Our final full day in the Hibernian Metropolis.

I got up early and watched #2 son make himself a great breakfast. I should have asked him to make me one. I made do with cereal and toasted brown bread. I really should have bought them some supplies for the house.

Mrs. Chairman, because she is the best person, offered to drive us to the LUAS train station. LUAS is the light rail system for Dublin. I love the convenience of taking the train into town and avoiding having to find parking for the car. I love the convenience of walking out my hotel door and being in Dublin even more. I love not spending money on a hotel room, too. It is a puzzle.

On the way to the LUAS, I mentioned to Mrs. Chairman how sad I was that Mr. Chairman was having problems with the master distiller at the Whiskey Distillery. Mrs. Chairman laughed. She said she kind of liked the fact this old guy in the west wasn’t going to let these high pressure Dublin businessman push him around. A different take all together.

Our first stop in the morning was to be at the Little Museum of Dublin right next to St. Stephen’s Green. But we had plenty of time to wander around before the museum opened so off the Queen and I wandered. I needed to recreate a picture of my father at the top of Grafton Street, so we stopped there first. Then, since the Queen hadn’t eaten yet, we stopped into the Marks and Spencer department store to get some tea and something to eat. From there we wandered by some of the pubs famous for the writer’s who hung out in them, like McDaid’s and Grogan’s. In a full circle moment, we looked at the Powerscourt House. This was the townhouse owned by the same family that owned the Powerscourt Estate that had the waterfall on it. The townhouse took up a full city block and was big enough to be turned into a mall at one point.

I’d been hearing about the Little Museum of Dublin for years and was always curious about the term Little Museum. The Museum takes up one Georgian townhouse opposite St. Stephen’s Green and is full of artifacts donated by the citizens of Dublin. Each floor room is dedicated to a different theme and time period. What immediately stole my heart was the room dedicated to the U2 story. There were so many artifacts in the room I was excited to see from a full size statue of Bono as McPhisto to a trabant from the Zoo TV tour. I could probably have spent the entire day in that room. But each room was packed with memorabilia about Dublin from Dubliners. There was too much stuff to take it all in.

Part of the visit to the museum came with a tour by an absolutely crazy person in a good way. But I think all the guides were that way. They dressed in costumes from the early 20th century and talked like they came out of Dickens novel but with Irish accents. Basically they told us stories of all the artifacts in each of the rooms. They could have told a ton more stories because they only covered a small percentage of each of the artifacts in the rooms. At one point, our guide introduced us to what I thought was a gentleman cosplaying as James Joyce. Turns out, his name was Trevor White and he founded the museum.

Since we had time before the start of the 1916 Walking tour, we did the best thing you can do in Dublin. We went to Bewley’s for Tea and Scones. There is just something supremely civilized about having Scones and tea at Bewley’s. I had my doubts about this new store we were trying. But it turns out this was the original Bewley’s Oriental Cafe full of turn of the century decorations and stained glass windows. When the hostess asked if we would like the table at the window in front of the store, I couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. Because I’m a pig I ordered two scones and they came with lots of butter and what seemed like fresh strawberry preserves. Blood sugar spike be dammed I ate and enjoyed all of it.
I’d prepped and been looking forward to the 1916 Walking Tour since I came across their website. I’d been looking for a different tour to take the Queen Mum that wouldn’t be just the same old sights. I went down a rabbit hole of watching movies, reading books and listening to every podcast that Lorcan Collins had recorded. Lorcan Collins was the guide behind the 1916 Walking Tour. I couldn’t wait to wander around Dublin and watch all these historic sights be brought to life and given context.

We met in the basement of the International Bar where our guide turned out not to be Lorcan Collins. This might have been a sign of disappointment to come. Our guide spent a good twenty minutes in this dark basement giving us a background on the 1916 Uprising, which was seminal in the fight for Irish Independence. But most of what I heard, I already knew. Despite the myriad photos on the walls, I don’t think this bar had any connection to the Uprising. Eventually, we were up and away, heading towards Dublin Castle. We didn’t spend too long in the castle courtyard and made our way to the main gate where the first shots of the uprising occurred. I thought we would spend a few minutes talking about James Connolly since there is a Connolly room in the castle where he was nursed back to health before his execution. Nope. The focus of the talk was the battle at the main gate. We then went around the corner to a spot where three IRA men were tortured to death by the IRA. Too bad only two of the men were actually members of the IRA. The third man was just an innocent victim who was rounded up with the other two.

That talk went on for a long time in a not particularly interesting area of the castle. A lot of the members of the tour started to sit. I developed pains in my thigh. I have nerve damage in there and it starts to sing to me if I remain idle upright for too long. Finally, we moved on. Our guide led us to Eustace Street where we stopped outside the Meeting House of Friends. This would be my fourth time on this trip I admired the plaque dedicated to Frederick Douglass. I heard again that this used to be the Eagle Tavern where the United Irishman met for the first time in advance of the 1798 Rebellion. The most entertaining bit about this stop was the crazed older gentleman screaming at us to get out of his way as he plowed down the sidewalk. He was nicely dressed in a suit so I don’t think he was crazy, just didn’t care for us tourists.

Eustace streets is just two streets over from Crow Street where Michael Collins had his hide out and ran the operations to spy on the British during the War of Independence. It would have been cool to walk over there and talk about that. We were not. Instead, the tour walked along the Liffey all the way to the General Post Office.

I will grant you the General Post Office was the key location in the Uprising. One of the founding documents, The proclamation of the Irish Republic was read outside the building by Patrick Pearse. Some of the fiercest fighting occurred at this building as the British Forces tried to drive the rebellions out. But just before you get to the GPO, you can go by Moore Street where a last desperate charge was made by the men trying to escape. There is an alley where The O’Rahilly lost his life leading the charge. Sure would have been nice to get some information about that street.

Our tour went right to the statue of Big Jim Larkin and stopped to talk. Big Jim sits in the middle of O’Connell Street between the GPO and what was once Cleary’s department store. Larkin was responsible for helping start the Irish Transport and General Workers Union. He was a big part of the 1913 Lockout but didn’t have much to do with the 1916 Uprising. His statue was positioned near where he gave a big speech on a Sunday on August 31 1913 which ended with an assault by police. One of the Bloody Sundays for which Ireland is known. Our guide gave another long dissertation about the GPO. He told us to take note of the bullet holes still in the columns outside the GPO. He brought our attention to the Cuchulain statue in the window of the GPO.

The best story he told concerned the building next door to the GPO which used to be a hotel owned by one of the wealthiest men in Dublin, Michael Martin Murphy. Murphy was the man who called for the lockout and barred workers from coming to work in order to break up Larkin’s union. During the uprising, James Connelly dispatched some his men to leave the GPO and go over to the hotel and run the new Tricolor flag, symbol of the Irish State, atop the hotel. The lads with the flag were confused by the order thinking they should fly the flag over the GPO but did as they were told. The Irish Tricolor flag flew over Murphy’s hotel. The soldiers also told the guest to get out of the hotel. When the British Frigate came up the Liffey to shell the soldiers, they mistook the hotel for the GPO because of the flag and shelled the hotel first.

I took a lot of pictures while the guide spoke. He didn’t really cover any new ground for me. I pondered what I was supposed to do? Should I have remained ignorant of the events and characters around the 1916 Uprising and had the tour guide teach me what I needed to know or should I have done what I had done and been bored by the tour I looked forward to taking. In retrospect, I hoped the tour guide would have more information than I and supplement the knowledge I already had.

For the first time ever, after the tour, I wandered into the GPO. It is a very nice post office. And there was a gift shop.

The Queen and I parted ways with a plan to meet up at our LUAS stop on Stephen’s Green. No one wants to be around me when I’m on a picture hunt. I stopped by another famed literary Pub called the Palace Bar on Fleet Street. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble because it was right next door to the old Bewley’s Hotel which I had taken pictures of on my first day in Dublin. I needed a picture of Molly Malone in the sunlight since I had only photographed on the night time walk. On the way there I passed a group of about thirty elementary school kids. They might have been from France. I missed my turn to the statue and had to backtrack. I really shouldn’t have missed the turn. By the time I arrived at Molly Malone she was surrounded by all the French Elementary School kids. They all stood on the platform. Many of them rubbed her boobs for luck. They also sang the Molly Malone song. I don’t think they were ever going to leave. Other sight seers started to show up, enthralled by all these kids singing about Molly which only spurred the kids to sing the song again. I was trapped in a nightmare. Finally, the school chaperones removed the human blockade from the statue. I jumped in quickly to take my pictures but so did others. Pictures with hands on boobs had to be taken. I eventually got a clear space to take a photo after asking a couple of people to move back for just a second.

I don’t know where I heard about the monkeys playing pool on the base of one of the pillars on the National Library, but I knew I needed to see them now that I knew about them. The National Library used to be a gentleman’s club and the monkeys were part of the decoration. I figured I had just enough time to pop over and find them. I could also get a look inside the library which looked beautiful.

I approached the guard at the desk and asked how could I get into the library. He said unless I was doing research and had a pass, I could not enter the library. Not even for a quick peak? No. After that lovely exchange my next question was even better. I asked him where could I find the monkeys playing pool on the base of the pillars? The guard gave the look you give crazy people. He had never heard of such a thing and thought I was pulling his leg. I thanked him and left. I turned around outside because my bladder called and I hoped the library might have a bathroom. I went back in and asked my favorite guard about a toilet and he gave me directions. He also in the interim to me leaving and coming back had asked about the mythical monkeys. Turns out they weren’t a myth. They were to be found just down the street on another building. Huzzah.

I went down the street and there the monkeys were just as advertised. I took many pictures. But it was hard to capture the oddity of them. By this time, I was out of time, but I still had one more stop to make. I needed to go to Sheridan’s Cheesemonger shop. Why wouldn’t you go to a Cheesemonger?

I will admit I am not much of a cheese aficionado. My knowledge runs the gamut from sharp cheddar to parmesan from Kraft. So, I when I entered the store and approached the counter, I asked the nice man if he wouldn’t mind helping me select a few nice cheeses to bring home to the Chairman’s house. There were two gentleman in front of me but they were already being helped when the counter man asked me what I wanted. The counter man and I went to the display case and picked out a couple of cheeses including a nice Brie for The Queen who also has a side hustle as the Queen of Brie. I kind of knew what we had picked out but I thought maybe we should write the names of the cheeses on the packages so if I had managed to find one the Chairman and his wife liked, they would know what the cheese was rather than relying on my faulty memory. I asked the counterman to put the names of the cheeses on the packages. When I said this the man who was in front of me turned and said something to the effect of “you don’t know the types of the cheeses you bought”. I guess you have to find a cheese snob in a cheese monger shop. But I didn’t care. I confessed my ignorance. The goal was nice cheese for my hosts. Screw the cheese snob.

I thought this lovely shop was a one off. Nope. Sheridan’s Cheese Mongers are all over Ireland. They started in Galway and this store on St. Anne’s Street was their third.

I was a few minutes late to the LUAS stop and meeting the queen. I also saw a train departing just as I walked up. I was in no mood to chase it. The next one arrived in about five minutes. Mrs. Chairman met us at the station. When I mentioned I thought about going to St. Enda’s School, which Patrick Pearse had founded, she offered to drive me over. I declined. But she did detour over to the Russian embassy nearby to show us the street painted in Ukrainian colors in front of the Russian Embassy. Ukrainian flags flew all around the building.

Because Mrs. Chairman is one of the nicest people you will ever meet, while the Queen and I were in town, Mrs. Chairman had taken the Queen Mum out for a tour of the local area which included a trip to Mrs. Chairman’s swimming spot on the coast.

Before dinner, I did some drone flights over the house which made me a big hit with son #2. I think this was the first time he showed any interest in my existence. Mrs. Chairman came out and we took some selfies. I tried to get Mr. Chairman out as well but he was in the middle of a call.

We had a lovely dinner. The chairman brought out some wine from his wine cellar. Turns out his love and knowledge of wine came from a summer spent in France where he worked at a restaurant. He has hundreds of bottles upstairs in his wine closet. Like all good Irish hosts, he kept pouring. Mrs. Chairman had brought back some French baguettes with her. Sadly, Son #2 had spotted them before he could be warned off and made a sandwich with them. I pretty much cleaned off rest with generous portions of Kerrygold butter. That could have been my main meal.

We had a nice political discussion after dinner. The Queen Mum had the support of the Chairman as we discussed getting the best people for jobs in government, even if they had conflicts of interest.

Tomorrow, plane travel. I am pre-sad.

[Greg]

May 17-18 Travel home

I didn’t want to go, but it was time. We made our farewells to our great hosts. The trip to the airport was uneventful. The Queen and I were extra early because the Queen Mum departed several hours before our flight left. I left them at the curb with the bags while I dropped off the car at the rental agency. Good-bye, Portage

We couldn’t hang out in the United Lounge because I guess we only had the first level of premium. You needed the Polaris level to be in the lounge. We went back and hung out with the hoipolloi. We had breakfast at what had to be a mob run restaurant. You had to order via phone and there were no substitutions. At least the food was horrible. It made me long for any of the traditional Irish Breakfasts along the way. I miss you Strand River Restaurant.

The Dublin airport allows you to go through US customs at the airport. Sure you get to go through a screening twice at the same airport but you don’t have to do customs when you get off the plane.

We didn’t have the same cool seats as we did on the flight out since we weren’t on a 787. We also didn’t get a goody bag. The entry back into the real world was harsh. At Chicago, the United Lounge was packed and we all yelled at a man who cut in line. The worst was getting off in San Francisco and waiting for what seemed days to get the shuttle to the cut rate parking lot. We must have seen ever other parking lot shuttle bus pass us at least twice before our Travelodge bus showed up. We almost got a taxi. There was nothing sadder than the sight of the Travelodge with all the traffic on 101 screaming by.

From the beginning we knew we would spend the night in Burlingame rather than driving straight to Raymond. Our hotel was a nondescript box also by the Freeway. The Yeti was kind enough to meet us for breakfast which took a bit of the sting out of the homecoming. After we dined with him, we popped into to see my mother. That was it’s own state of horror. Although it was amusing to see her try and surreptitiously grab a N95 mask from her purse when we mentioned we were still dealing with terrible colds.

The final indignity greeted us at the house. Our dog Maeve was in a terrible state. Her behind was all matted and covered in poo. I do not blame our house sitter for letting it get into such a state. I’m sure he didn’t realize. The first thing we wanted to do was clean Maeve up before letting her into the house. When the Queen sprayed water on her rear, hundreds of maggots flowed off the dog. That was unexpected. We cleaned her up as much as we could. I cut away a lot of Maeve’s fur. We made plans to visit the vet in the morning.

So, that was the trip. I already know I need to go back. I feel like I didn’t solve the trip or maybe do the trip the right way. There are things I wanted to see but didn’t . There are things I did see but didn’t explore enough. I should have just wandered around Dublin for a week. But then I think I’ve missed out seeing things I love beyond the Pale. I don’t when I’ll get back there. But I know I will.

[Greg]

Cheese and rice, I thought we would get the DM death story before I finished this Moby Dick of a tale. But here we are.

[Drunk Monk]

I was waiting for you to finish. Didn’t want to steal your thunder.

[Greg]

When did that become a thing?

[Drunk Monk]

After you wrote your latest book?

[Greg]

There is currently a riot occurring in Dublin City center on O'Connell street. Right wing nut jobs are looking for immigrants in retaliation for a stabbing of some women and children earlier today.

[Drunk Monk]

Yikes! Saw some pix on my newsfeeds. More horrid news.

[Greg]

Not a fan.