The last days in Ireland I had planed to visit whatever I had left of Dublin and take a day trip out of town to see some country side. Vanessa, a colleague and friend I made at the conference was going to take a day trip on Thursday to take advantage of her last day. I had planned mine for Friday, but thought I might want to try to make it with her, so off we went to catch the tour bus early Thursday morning.
The guide was a young, very enthusiastic, Irish fellow, who told us stories, some true and some colored with folklore, and was nice enough to let me join the bus without a ticket at my own risk. The deal was I would go with them to the last stop he was supposed to pick people up, and if someone did not show up, I would take their seat.
Well, the last pick-up stop was Dun Laoghaire, a port/beach town were Dubliners go to get away. My luck was out and all passengers showed up, so I figured I’d roam the town and take the train back into the city center later that day to keep roaming Dublin. But of course, not before taking some shots of this very picturesque town.
The driver had recommended I buy a ticket for the next day and ask for Michael, his brother. I went over and bought the ticket, but found out the next, by Michael himself, that I had purchased a ticket for the wrong tour. I really don’t know where my mind was during this trip, and how on earth more things didn’t go wrong, because I’m telling you, it seemed like flake was my middle name these days.
Anyhow, off I went on my little red ford minivan type of tour, which allowed for visiting more hard to get to areas, which the big white bus couldn’t get to. So, I guess there was good in it after all. We went to Wicklow and saw the Guinness lake, the bridge and path were they filmed P.S. I love you and some of the fields used to film Brave Heart.
The treat of the tour was Glendalough for sure. This is a monastery site, from 1398. But the site itself had been a settlement dating back to the 6th century. Of course, all that is left are ruins and a cemetery, but it has this charm which is hard to explain. It seems like a place once spiritual in nature, keeps it aura, no matter how much time has passed, and I could feel it just roaming by the tower, which is still erect and the ruins around the grounds.
At Glendalough I bumped into Michael and his crew again and got to talking. He asked what I was up to later that night and I said I was going to try to meet up with some friends from NY who were in Dublin too and he suggested, quite insistently, that I accompany his little brother to a wedding he had that night and had no date to go with. My immediate reaction was “I can’t crash a wedding looking like this! I’m wearing boots for crying out load.” He said “doesn’t every woman travel with some heels and a little black dress, just in case?” To which I answered, “apparently not this girl.” He gave me his brother’s number anyway, you know, might I decide to do a little shopping in Dublin.
But it was a no go. I headed over to my friends’ hotel instead to see if I could finally meet up with them. We had been playing tag for days now. The stars were aligned because as I was walking into the lobby, they were walking out and had made reservations to have dinner with me. Good thing I got there in time, because we headed over to L’ecrivain and had one of the most amazing meals I’ve had in my life. If you’re ever in Dublin and want to treat yourself, you have to go there.
After dinner we walk in a very East side of Dublin, one I had not gotten to yet and saw the new developing area. The new 5 start hotel, the new theater and lots of up scale, trendy bars and clubs. On our way we walked by the Liffey and saw the new Samuel Beckett Bridge by Santiago Calatrava.