Time drops in decay
Like a candle burnt out.
And the mountains and woods
Have their day, have their day;
But, kindly old rout
Of the fire-born moods,
You pass not away.
-WBY
Return to familiarity.
When I lived in Ireland, I was constantly walking around with a smile plastered across my face. Even on my worst days, I still felt as though I had hit the jackpot in discovering surroundings that felt so immediately accommodating and familiar.
I vividly remember the first time I set foot in Dublin. My backpacking friends (and fourteen year old brother) had capitalized on the kindness of two lorries passing through the city who agreed to drop us off on the north side quay. Our gritty driver was my first real glimpse into the sardonic generosity that is ingrained in the people of this island. He had a brusque exterior that on the one hand kept you on your toes as he dished out commentary on life, work and Michael Jackson (he had purchased “Thriller” while in France, but found it so distasteful that he promptly took the cassette and threw it out the window of his moving truck). On the other hand, his generosity belied his feck-all demeanor as he rang various youth hostels in an attempt to get us poor students cheap lodging for the night. Good times.
Climbing down from the truck, I immediately noted that Dublin offered none of the shamrock-promised charm that supposedly forms the bedrock of our Irish-American history. Nope. The Liffey rolled along at the same gray pace as the rest of the city, and there was nothing immediately remarkable from a tourism point of view. Still, just in looking around, you can tell that the echoes of history whisper just out of earshot throughout the dirty streets- but you sure as Hell aren’t going to see old woman peeking out of thatched roofed cottages in order to welcome you back after being gone for a hundred-odd years.
This is my Dublin. This is the place where I am supposed to be. One day I am going to move back, but until that time I will have to settle for annual returns that help to keep me sane while living in crazy-ass places like Dakar grounded. Here are a few photos of some of the commonplace things that I do or love whenever I’m back in my natural environment:
The bread. One of my staple college meals was soda bread with butter and sugar sprinkled on top. That or fish and chips. Or beans and toast. And Guinness.
George’s Street Arcade. In college I always loved strolling through here to check out the used books, second-hand clothing stores and fortune teller stalls. Not much has changed today, with the possible exception of a few stands that are set up by Chinese. I bought a stack of great black and white photos in here from a photographer who has done some military time in Palestine. Cool guy, you should really check out his stuff at the end of the Arcade.
I never really went to Bewley’s (too busy, too touristy), but it is still a Grafton Street mainstay and a comforting site to see. I do, however, seem to remember stealing a small milk pitcher from here that I carried around my Navy travels for about eight years. It has since broken- so maybe I need to pop back in after all…
Anyone who knows life in the British Isles knows that Cadbury has a lock on the candy market. Logically they would also then know why I snapped this photo of my hot chocolate. It’s all about the Flake.
One more about the food (I think). This might not be Tuscany, but I love how basic but delicious the fare is in Ireland (yes, even my butter and sugar on bread concoction). My lunch here is smoked salmon on Guinness brown bread. Add some sauce and I Forget What Else, and you have one happy girl at lunchtime.
Me with two of my beloved Trinity friends! Without a doubt, this is the best part about returning to Ireland- being able to catch up with old friends and watch how our lives grow.
And they are having children! Olivia is now a wonderful mom, and this slight modification in her daily routine has only enhanced her free spirit.
We rolled into city center on the DART, and at thirteen weeks old this little guy is already showing his Mom’s love of travel. I might not have kids, but it would appear that I really do enjoy hanging out with small children. We had a great time walking around town in all elements of Irish weather.
I can’t do this posting without throwing up the requisite pub shot. I was invited to a pub quiz, and thought for sure that my vast reserves of useless knowledge would finally be put to some quality use. Wrong.
In case you were wondering, they just don’t offer this kind of ambiance in Senegal. Nor is the Guinness this good. But you probably already knew that.
I learned in college that the Celts associated drunkenness with wisdom (it was referred of as the mystical “fog”. Really, just ask my freshman year roommates). So with Guinness in hand, I was bound to really carry my pub quiz team….
Okay so out of ten teams, we came in dead last. I even got the American questions wrong. In all fairness, I was able to identify the mistresses of Tiger Woods and Arnold Schwarzenegger, but how could I possibly know that the fourth most populated city in the U.S. was Houston. Is Texas even a part of the United States? I thought they wanted to secede or something …
We left the pub after eleven, and even though it was almost midnight, there was still light in the sky. Winter might be an overwhelmingly dark period when you live this far north, but the summertime is always magic. You want to stay out and take advantage of the….well, Celtic twilight…
So there you have my random snapshots from the day. As I kept telling my Irish friends, I’m really aiming to move back here once this military business is all said and done. I’ve been fortunate to have traveled so much throughout my time in the Navy- but there has never been a place that has compared to my time in Dublin. I’m always sad to leave, but I always know that it won’t be long before I’ll be back again. If only to redeem myself at the next pub quiz.