Dublin- The Old, The New; The Austere, and the Downright Amusing

Yesterday was an odd day, a day of contradictions that made me realise that, Toto, we are definitely not in Kansas anymore. 

Still feeling slightly jetlagged and rather ill from my ridiculously long flight (I swear you feel like you have aged twenty years by the time you get off those long haul trips), I had high hopes in terms of touristy behaviour, but fell far short and had to settle for a brief walking tour of Trinity College. The tour was brilliant, as I fell ever so slightly in love with the (far too young) tour guide, whose name was Stephen (or Steven, who can tell?). Now, Stephen was not my type at all, for a start he was blonde and incredibly preppy/scholarly (think chinos, blue jumper, button down striped shirt and scarf). But probably the most disturbing part of my attraction to him was that he looked like an odd mix between Christopher Lloyd when he played the professor in Back to the Future, and John Mayer when he had the weird high hair. For the sake of my pride I'm going to say he looked more like the latter than the former.

Anyway, the reason I fell in love with Stephen is because when he spoke, it was absolutely captivating. His lovely Irish lilt added drama, but also comedy, to the tour, and really brought the college buildings to life. Perhaps my favourite snippet from the tour was when he referred to Henry VIII taking over the monastery which would later become the site of Trinity College, in his quest to trade up from a blonde to a brunette, and then back to a blonde again. Alas and alack, Stephen (who was a History graduate who had run off to Paris after completion of his degree to drink wine and eat oysters, possibly another reason my pulse went into overdrive) is only at Trinity until October, because after that point he leaves to study a Masters in English literature at Oxford (I think he is quite possibly my sweepy-haired soulmate). So if you want to see him you'll need to get over to Dublin before then.

After Stephen turned down my offer of a tip (possibly bribe to try and draw him out and snag a date) I made my way along to see the Book of Kells and The Old Library (also known as the Long Room). Now, I have seen both of these things before, and the Book of Kells is amazingly beautiful and filled with light and joy (especially when you consider that it was created by some monks living on a crappy rock somewhere near Scotland), but the Long Room hit me hard once again:

For anyone who has a love of books, this is the place to go. I spent about an hour in there yesterday, reading all of the documents (which include an original copy of the declaration of independence prepared for the Easter Rising in 1916- truly thrilling stuff!), and staring, awestruck, at all of the beautiful old books and marvelling at the beauty of the room itself. If you can only do one thing in Dublin, and you're a massive book nerd like myself, the Long Room in Trinity College is my hot tip, I've never been so moved by a room before in my life, and it just got better the second time around.

After I finally managed to drag myself away from all of those books, I wandered over to Grafton Street seeking food, and came across a brilliant little rock band playing in the middle of the street to a large crowd. These guys are actually charting here at the moment and were selling their albums for 10 euro, this is something virtually unheard of in Australia, I know that I've certainly never seen a charting band playing an impromptu gig in Pitt Street Mall before. Anyway, The Riptide Movement, check them out- http://www.theriptidemovement.com/

After moving along from here I saw a protest march coming down the street. At first I thought it might be a protest against the bank bailouts, as I'd been seeing signs posted about the place for this one, but it turned out to be a protest for the legalisation of marijuana. Very, very, very amusing,and such a contrast. All of these stoners in their Bob Marley hats smoking what must have been cigarettes, rather than the wacky tabacky, seeing as there were gardai everywhere, marching down the street shouting their brilliant chants (probably all composed in a haze of smoke), all outside of Trinity College, which is home to some of Ireland's most important cultural heritage! 


Finally, in just another example of how the old mixes with the new in Dublin so seamlessly, after turning the corner from the lovable stoners I came across a lady playing a traditional Irish harp (not unlike the one found in the Long Room).


An interesting, and hilarious, start to my new life. I don't think Dublin is going to stop surprising me for a while yet. 


Signing off, 


B. J. Barnes