Dublin

We didn't spend as much time in Dublin as we would have loved to.  It wasn't a matter of things being cost prohibitive so much as the fact that it simply wasn't possible to find a place to crash over the weekend as basically every form of inexpensive accommodation was booked solid.  We got there in the evening after leaving Galway around 4 in the afternoon -- probably the shortest journey we've had since the plane ride from Katowice -- and after stopping to get a bite to eat and find our bearings managed to make it to the hostel.

The courtyard at Dublin Castle

The layout of the dorm rooms is actually really interesting at the Avalon Hostel: the main bulk of the bunks in the rooms are on the lower floor, but a small spiral staircase takes you up to a loft with beds in semi-private little cubbies.  We would dearly have loved to take one of the loft rooms, but we were thankful to see them occupied when we discovered later that the room only had a grand total of two electrical outlets that they expected twelve people to share.  We actually encountered a similar problem when we were in Galway: while the room had a total of 5 outlets, 2 weren't functioning so there were 3 for 10 people.  It gets kinda frustrating when all of you have to charge your devices.

The last surviving tower of Dublin Castle and the chapel that helped inspire Bram Stoker to write Dracula.

We had actually managed to choose a really nice spot close to the old market and within a 5 minute walk of the Temple Bar district.  We were very conscious of doing things that were free, as we became painfully aware of our dwindling budget by the time we left Galway and had to book accommodation for our last few days in Ireland.  We spent our first night in Galway planning our time there and looking for potential schools to get in contact with.  No dice on the job front, but we had a good time anyway.  We tried our best to get in contact with Laura, a former classmate from TRU, but she was simply too busy while we were there.  One day we will be back.  Apparently she's not the only old friend I need to get in touch with in Dublin.

Dublin Gardens: named for the black pool of water the Norse discovered when they came.

Casts of Norse artifacts found in excavations of the oldest part of Dublin.

Our morning began (as has mostly become our habit) with a free walking tour of the area we were staying in.  Matt -- our guide thanks to Coole tours -- took us around to some of the more historic places around the old part of Dublin.  We went through the historic Temple Bar district, got a brief glance at the Trinity campus, the Bank of Ireland building, the old City Hall, and the site of the original Norse settlement (also Dublin Castle and the garden of the same name).  He told us stories that spanned over a thousand years of the city's history -- covering everything from the coming of the Celts and the Norse settlements, through the coming of the English, the 1916 uprising and ensuing civil war (complete with the formation of the IRA), all the way up to the present day.  We went for lunch at Merchant's Arch (on the River Liffy), then went back to the hostel to rest for a bit and plan the next leg of our journey.  We discovered the one critical flaw in the functioning of Megabus: they require you to print of your tickets at one of their electronic kiosks, but do not have any outside the United Kingdom (of which only Northern Ireland is part).  When we got frustrated to the point where we needed to walk away we decided to go out and enjoy our last evening in Dublin properly.

Twilight on the River Liffy

We purchased a small picnic for ourselves and went for a leisurely stroll along the river, enjoying the live music pouring out of every pub in Temple Bar.  We chose a bench on a promenade along the Liffy and ate our little feast, watching the cars and people go by in the moonlight.  We did note as we wandered that the custom of putting locks on bridges over rivers and streams seems to be pretty prevalent all over Europe -- not just on the Lovelocks Bridge in Paris.  We still need to leave ours on the bridge close to our original flat in Gliwice.  We could have put it anywhere, I suppose, but that's been our home abroad.  We wandered for a while, listening at the doors of various pubs and taking in the street performers before meandering back to the hostel to try and book our means of returning to Great Britain.

We tried both laptops in an effort to call the company over Skype, but the call quality was so terrible they actually hung up on us seven times.  Sarah got tired sometime around two or three in the morning and decided to go to bed, leaving me to try to figure the BS of Megabus out.  When I gave up and came to bed, I expected a darkened room full of snoring people.  What I actually found was a man sitting on the edge of Sarah's bunk, chatting with her rather loudly while he plugged in his cell.  She told me later that he had turned on all the lights in the room and tried to crawl into my bunk.  Everyone in the room was awake by this point, trying to feign sleep.  I could tell when I came to talk to him that he was wasted, and VERY determined to help us book our crossing.  Sometimes I'm too nice to people, but at least on this night my patience paid off a little.  I was rewarded for my two hours of agony by learning from this man that it is possible to get a combination ferry/rail ticket from Dublin to Edinburgh for the same price as a single walk-on ticket that only covered the ferry.

Sarah and Harry

Even though I was at the edge of my own patience by the time it paid off, I thanked him kindly and explained that I was also quite tired and would finish making arrangements in the morning.  While that was true, I also didn't want him looking over my shoulder while I tried to enter credit card numbers.  Sarah and I got up early to be packed and gone prior to checkout, booked a couple storage lockers at the hostel so we wouldn't have to carry our bags around, and got breakfast.  Afterward, we went to the Archaeological Museum -- which was an incredibly short walk from where we were staying.  If you are interested in Neolithic artifacts, Celts, the Norse, Medieval artifacts, or bog mummies, it is certainly worth a visit.  It was while Sarah was taking pictures of some of the early Christian relics that we met Harry Hackett, the security guard.  This man is amazing, and if you ever find your way there be sure to talk to him.  Tell him the English teachers from Canada sent you.

It started with him cheekily asking Sarah if she'd managed to take pictures of everything -- which she was actually trying to do.  She explained that she was taking pictures of extant pieces in case any of our SCA friends wanted inspiration, which led to her explaining the things we do for fun.  The end result was him deciding to give us a tour of the lower floor of the museum, free of charge.  In fact, he gave us a roll of posters and some workbooks for nothing at all, just because we were teachers.  The depth of knowledge he has on the exhibits just goes to show you how much he enjoys his job and his pride in the place he calls home.  I definitely learned a LOT from this man.  And he is a total sweetheart.  We kept running into him and just kept talking and talking together every time.

Yes, this thing is solid gold.  In fact this museum apparently has the most gold on display of any other in Europe.  It is a Norse piece that gives insight to how the Norse arrived in Ireland (viking is a verb, not a noun).

When the kings failed to do what they promised for their people, there was no hesitation whatsoever so sacrifice him to the gods.  They can't tell if this man was killed by the blow to the head, the disembowelment, or the mistletoe they found in his stomach.

We went back to the hostel and arranged for a cab to pick us up, as we didn't know the transit system very well and it was a considerable way to the ferry terminal.  Our cabbie was an MTF trans by the name of Fearghal Maceoin -- who from here on in will be referred to as Sylvia.  The first thing she did was give us hugs and high fives when she saw the rainbow bracelets we were both wearing.  Some days I wonder if it isn't part of a cabbie's job to also be a tour guide some days.  As we drove along she pointed out some of the more interesting sites and facts about the places along the drive to the ferry terminal.  She also mentioned a festival she had just returned from in Wales, and suggested it to us for future travels.  It was apparently a fortuitous call for her, since we arrived at the terminal just as the ferry from Holyhead was disembarking.  We parted company from Sylvia with hugs and well-wishes for future travels.  She means to come to the Vancouver Pride Parade one day.  Hopefully she remembers to look us up.

Sarah says I put too many pictures of her on this blog, so she made me put one of myself here instead.  The writing says "trust me, you're lovely."  She's a brat.

Leaving Ireland

Sometimes I wonder if there isn't something to the theories behind genetic memory.  I felt nothing but excitement when I boarded the plane that would take me away from the only home I had ever known for an undetermined amount of time, and felt only the smallest pangs of regret when we left the flat in Gliwice.  Leaving Cardiff was sad as well, but not nearly as heartbreaking as watching the Irish coastline slipping away into the sunset and not knowing when I'll be back.  Maybe I'm just being over-sensitive, but I do have to admit it made me incredibly sad to turn my back on the little island that made me feel so at home.