It's not quite 9 a.m. here on Tuesday, and Jo has left for another bus ride out to the 'burbs, where she is supervising student teachers. I'm waiting for my Theraflu to kick in and drinking Beweley's tea in the hotel room. We still have internet access, so I'll take advantage of that before heading out and about today.
Dublin Castle is right down the road from where we are staying. It looks more like a Palladian-style palace than an older castle, but as I've learned here, what a building looks like from the street is often very different from what's actually there. I'd poked around the outside on my own last week and decided to take the tour so I could get inside to the restricted areas. So I handed over some euros and waited in a yellow and white anteroom where the morning sun came through the window onto a marble statue of Sappho and some late 18th c portraits. Our guide, Daniel, showed up and herded the group up the stairs to the main floor.
Daniel was a seasoned docent, even if he's not yet 30. I always like to hear the "housekeeping" rules a tour guide spells out at the beginning, because it gives an idea of where previous tour groups went wrong. Daniel, who moved like a young James Cagney and was dressed like a Dublin mod, emphasized strongly the need for group unity due to the government use of parts of the building. I'm guessing there have been a few security breaches on his watch, and he wanted no more. He also was clear from the start about allowing very little space in his monologue for questions, no doubt understanding the negative impact of those on a tour's timing.
The main building today was built in the 18th c and used as the viceroy's residence when he came from London as the queen's representative. But it started out as a Viking stronghold and later became the location of a castle built over a period of 10 years or so in the early 1200s by King John, son of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquataine. So while what you see from the ground level is mostly the later Palladian-style State Apartments, there's more history lurking underground and around corners.
The residence itself has had its ups and downs, particularly when the Irish objected more dramatically to British rule. At the time of the 1916 rebellion in Dublin, part of the residence was being used as a hospital, and elsewhere on the grounds was a gaol. A plaque dedicates one room to James Connelly, who was brought to the hospital there to have the gunshot wound to his ankle treated so that he'd later be able to stand to face the firing squad for his rebellion activities. As it turned out, the quality of care was a bit low, and by the time execution day came, the Brits had to tie him in a chair at Kilmainham Gaol, up the road. "Twas thought to make the British look even more callous, at the time," said Daniel, who referred to Connelly as a martyred hero.
The main building, known as the State Apartments, is beautifully restored today and used mainly for state occasions, such as presidential inaugurations every 7 years, meetings of heads of state for the EU, diplomatic receptions, that sort of thing. There are Waterford crystal chandeliers and beautiful Irish woolen carpets. Each room is painted a deep, rich color. The hall called St. Patrick's is painted deep blue lined with heraldic flags, and that's where the president is sworn in. There used to be an Order of St. Patrick that held investitures there, but since the Republic of Ireland was established, the Brit-originating Order of St. Patrick has lost its cachet of honor.
The throne room has a massive gold throne upholstered in red velvet. Daniel explained that King George weighed about 350 pounds and required sturdy seating. But by the time the pleasantly plump but quite short Queen Victoria came along, she objected to the indignity of having to be hoisted up onto the throne. So she had it sent out for 6 inches to be taken off the legs, and she had a little matching footstool made.
Queen Victoria, when she visited Dublin, claimed the King's bed chamber for her own and had Prince Albert stationed in the Queen's bed chamber. Why didn't that fun fact from Daniel surprise me?
Dublin Castle is right down the road from where we are staying. It looks more like a Palladian-style palace than an older castle, but as I've learned here, what a building looks like from the street is often very different from what's actually there. I'd poked around the outside on my own last week and decided to take the tour so I could get inside to the restricted areas. So I handed over some euros and waited in a yellow and white anteroom where the morning sun came through the window onto a marble statue of Sappho and some late 18th c portraits. Our guide, Daniel, showed up and herded the group up the stairs to the main floor.Daniel was a seasoned docent, even if he's not yet 30. I always like to hear the "housekeeping" rules a tour guide spells out at the beginning, because it gives an idea of where previous tour groups went wrong. Daniel, who moved like a young James Cagney and was dressed like a Dublin mod, emphasized strongly the need for group unity due to the government use of parts of the building. I'm guessing there have been a few security breaches on his watch, and he wanted no more. He also was clear from the start about allowing very little space in his monologue for questions, no doubt understanding the negative impact of those on a tour's timing.
The main building today was built in the 18th c and used as the viceroy's residence when he came from London as the queen's representative. But it started out as a Viking stronghold and later became the location of a castle built over a period of 10 years or so in the early 1200s by King John, son of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquataine. So while what you see from the ground level is mostly the later Palladian-style State Apartments, there's more history lurking underground and around corners.
The residence itself has had its ups and downs, particularly when the Irish objected more dramatically to British rule. At the time of the 1916 rebellion in Dublin, part of the residence was being used as a hospital, and elsewhere on the grounds was a gaol. A plaque dedicates one room to James Connelly, who was brought to the hospital there to have the gunshot wound to his ankle treated so that he'd later be able to stand to face the firing squad for his rebellion activities. As it turned out, the quality of care was a bit low, and by the time execution day came, the Brits had to tie him in a chair at Kilmainham Gaol, up the road. "Twas thought to make the British look even more callous, at the time," said Daniel, who referred to Connelly as a martyred hero.
The main building, known as the State Apartments, is beautifully restored today and used mainly for state occasions, such as presidential inaugurations every 7 years, meetings of heads of state for the EU, diplomatic receptions, that sort of thing. There are Waterford crystal chandeliers and beautiful Irish woolen carpets. Each room is painted a deep, rich color. The hall called St. Patrick's is painted deep blue lined with heraldic flags, and that's where the president is sworn in. There used to be an Order of St. Patrick that held investitures there, but since the Republic of Ireland was established, the Brit-originating Order of St. Patrick has lost its cachet of honor.
The throne room has a massive gold throne upholstered in red velvet. Daniel explained that King George weighed about 350 pounds and required sturdy seating. But by the time the pleasantly plump but quite short Queen Victoria came along, she objected to the indignity of having to be hoisted up onto the throne. So she had it sent out for 6 inches to be taken off the legs, and she had a little matching footstool made.Queen Victoria, when she visited Dublin, claimed the King's bed chamber for her own and had Prince Albert stationed in the Queen's bed chamber. Why didn't that fun fact from Daniel surprise me?
A mirror in one room, a gift from France, got lost in the shuffle for a century or so after one crass viceroy thought it would make a swell headboard for his bed. He knocked out the glass and used it as a headboard until it got pitched during some political fracas. It ended up sold at a second hand shop for 5 pounds until someone appraised it and figured out what it really was. It's back in the castle now, as a mirror. (It would have been a little over the top as a headboard, anyway, even in the Graceland school of interior design. There's no accounting for taste.)
In the drawing room, where 18th century young ladies waited to be claimed by gentlemen for dances (or spent the whole evening outside the party), there were lovely painted wooden screens for the girls to stand behind so that their wax-based makeup didn't melt from the fireplace heat. More fun facts.
The tour left the residence and walked across a cobblestone courtyard to an unassuming office building. Inside, we went down stairs to a damp, dank area where the foundation of the Norman castle could be seen, along with the moat that surrounded the castle. (Photo is dark and murky, not unlike the remains of the moat itself.)
The first foundation was laid by Vikings who weren't good stonemasons. They came up with a mortar made of oxblood, straw and ground shell and bone that made a putty that hardened. Ingenious, really.
Daniel told the story of Dublin's name. In Viking days, there was a small lake adjacent to the castle that they used mainly for sewage and called "Dubh Linn" (with the Dubh pronounced Dove). Dubh Linn became Dublin. Lovely, eh?
There's a little church built in 1814 and decorated outside with carved heads of folks like Jonathan Swift, Brian Boru and miscellaneous saints and martyrs. It's butted up against a Norman tower, which is attached to the 18th century building, which is adjacent to a later office building, which is over the original moat...
And of course, this being Ireland, the hard core history tour ends with arrows directing each group to the exit via a lovely cafe and gift shop.
After Dublin Castle I walked a bit and stopped for soup and tea (Oh no. Am I becoming one of those older ladies who does that? Dear Lord.). And then I cut through the old Temple Bar
district and out to Wellington Quay, and the down the Liffey to see the Custom House. I crossed over the river at Butt Bridge and walked around the huge building and past the Dublin Brigade Memorial before picking up Abbey St Lower and joining all the pedestrian traffic along there. I love to walk with the residents of a place and see where they go. On Monday afternoon I headed north, stopped at a few little shops and took some photos of interesting things, then crossed back over the Liffey at the Grattan Bridge and headed back to the hotel to meet Jo.
There's a cool bench made to look like a Viking Ship down at the end of Winetavern St. The fore and aft parts of the boat come out of the ground and the benches are in between. Nifty installation on a busy street. Urban art rocks.
I was going to make a few more stops in the afternoon, but I was feeling punky. I met Jo and we went out to find a late lunch. The Moroccan place I'd scouted out turned out not to be open until later, so we cut across Temple Bar district and went back to the Larder. She had a BLT (with Irish bacon, of course; hold the mayo) and I had a warm tuna salad--poached tuna over greens with strips of raw veggies, slices of apples, and a handful of pistachios, in an oregano dressing. We shared a warm mixed berry crumble and a pot of tea. Yum yum. And then we went back to the hotel where I took some Theraflu and a nap.
Jo went out in the evening to meet her colleague and the students for a little event, while I stayed behind and entertained my bronchitis. When Jo came back we considered the available food options, which were limited at that hour (no pizza delivery in Dublin), and she popped around the corner to Burdock's for fish and chips. Burdock's has a wall of fame listing Bono, Tom Hanks, Nicole Kidman, Bruce Springsteen and a bunch of other celebs among their customers, and there is usually a line out the door for take-away fish and chips. We shared a huge order of fresh cod and chips. Not exactly a light bedtime snack, but oh well. When in Dublin...
And that was Monday. I've been here a week already! I think I could stay a long, long time. I like Dublin. Time to head out and see what Tuesday has to offer.
Daniel told the story of Dublin's name. In Viking days, there was a small lake adjacent to the castle that they used mainly for sewage and called "Dubh Linn" (with the Dubh pronounced Dove). Dubh Linn became Dublin. Lovely, eh?There's a little church built in 1814 and decorated outside with carved heads of folks like Jonathan Swift, Brian Boru and miscellaneous saints and martyrs. It's butted up against a Norman tower, which is attached to the 18th century building, which is adjacent to a later office building, which is over the original moat...
And of course, this being Ireland, the hard core history tour ends with arrows directing each group to the exit via a lovely cafe and gift shop.
After Dublin Castle I walked a bit and stopped for soup and tea (Oh no. Am I becoming one of those older ladies who does that? Dear Lord.). And then I cut through the old Temple Bar
district and out to Wellington Quay, and the down the Liffey to see the Custom House. I crossed over the river at Butt Bridge and walked around the huge building and past the Dublin Brigade Memorial before picking up Abbey St Lower and joining all the pedestrian traffic along there. I love to walk with the residents of a place and see where they go. On Monday afternoon I headed north, stopped at a few little shops and took some photos of interesting things, then crossed back over the Liffey at the Grattan Bridge and headed back to the hotel to meet Jo.
There's a cool bench made to look like a Viking Ship down at the end of Winetavern St. The fore and aft parts of the boat come out of the ground and the benches are in between. Nifty installation on a busy street. Urban art rocks.
I was going to make a few more stops in the afternoon, but I was feeling punky. I met Jo and we went out to find a late lunch. The Moroccan place I'd scouted out turned out not to be open until later, so we cut across Temple Bar district and went back to the Larder. She had a BLT (with Irish bacon, of course; hold the mayo) and I had a warm tuna salad--poached tuna over greens with strips of raw veggies, slices of apples, and a handful of pistachios, in an oregano dressing. We shared a warm mixed berry crumble and a pot of tea. Yum yum. And then we went back to the hotel where I took some Theraflu and a nap.
Jo went out in the evening to meet her colleague and the students for a little event, while I stayed behind and entertained my bronchitis. When Jo came back we considered the available food options, which were limited at that hour (no pizza delivery in Dublin), and she popped around the corner to Burdock's for fish and chips. Burdock's has a wall of fame listing Bono, Tom Hanks, Nicole Kidman, Bruce Springsteen and a bunch of other celebs among their customers, and there is usually a line out the door for take-away fish and chips. We shared a huge order of fresh cod and chips. Not exactly a light bedtime snack, but oh well. When in Dublin...
And that was Monday. I've been here a week already! I think I could stay a long, long time. I like Dublin. Time to head out and see what Tuesday has to offer.
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