Mr. T and the Liffey

So what did I really do in Ireland, you ask?

Well, the first few days I walked. And I walked and I walked - as anyone would in a big city their first few days. The streets are hard and long. Each street name changes every few blocks - directions are given by using local pubs as reference points - not kidding! Loads of cars, exhaust, fumes, sirens, people. . . felt like i was back in london except everyone wasn't as dressed up! Didn't really see much that was exciting, really - in the city, that is. I found the architecture routine compared to Edinburgh, but who wouldn't. Life got boring real fast.

Then Tiernan got back into town a few days later and the fun began. Nothing crazy, mind you - just "T" style. Monday we hooked up in the rain and jetted off to the beach nearby, relatively speaking. The Sun broke out by the time we arrived. Another visiting friend of his, myself and T all went to nearby Killiny Beach(sp?) & Dalkey and walked along this beach - it was great to me. They even pointed out Bono & Enya's houses - I thought they were full of crap but by evening time I believed them. Went back to T's for tea & dinner compliments of his youngest sister who BTW, is only 23 (?) & just graduated to become a medical doctor (again, correct me if I'm wrong - it's late!). I'll refrain from spelling her name but it sounds like Alb(v?)a. Anyway, great day. Two of his mates & him went for their weekly swim in the Sea at a spot called----, feck, I can't remember (T, please insert in a comment). Apparently, this place used to be a male nudist bathing spot but a while back the women got fed up with it and crashed their party. Now it's just a regular swimming hole. I was extremely amazed at these blokes doing laps in crazy cold water - I think they're bonkers but I admire them for it. At least their getting exercise. Nice place, actually and nice views all around. Absolutely cold though.

Next day we did the "museum" gig by visiting the National Gallery and a photography exhibit called, "Joy" - can't remember the artist but it was interesting. He snapped pics of inmates in prison life. You could almost tell the ones that knew they were getting out soon versus the "throw away the key" kind.

The gallery was cool - I'm always happy to see a Vermeer. One of the security guards was kind enough to give me, alone, my very own lecture on 4 particular paintings that had been stolen prior to their display at this gallery, was it twice, T? Anyway, the Vermeer was one of them - they got it back both times. However, there are still two missing. I wish I could recite what he said because it was really quite personal and quaint how he took the time to talk with me and tell me these mysterious stories yet, it wasn't part of his routine. Nice! Tea time followed.

More in the next post. . .