Dublin, love it or hate it? please tell me why
Dec 24th, 2014, 12:01 PM
#22
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What " suits. " one about a particular city is mostly subjetive.
Some posters disliked ( and would not go back to.) Rome, Madrid, Paris, Dublin, Barcelona,
Lisbon, Napels...just to name a few ...
À chacun son goût!
Some posters disliked ( and would not go back to.) Rome, Madrid, Paris, Dublin, Barcelona,
Lisbon, Napels...just to name a few ...
À chacun son goût!
Dec 24th, 2014, 12:25 PM
#23
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Fair enough, Caliban.
From a Trip Report:
http://www.fodors.com/community/euro...l-tour.cfm#top
posted back in 2006:
"Itallian_Chauffer on May 22, 06 at 9:17am
WHY IRELAND?
I've made visits to Ireland in April of 1999, June and July of 2000, April of 2001, February of 2002, April of 2003, June of 2004, 2005 and most recently, in April of 2006. Friends and family ask me why we keep going back. Why not go somewhere else? Why keep going to the same place, over and over? Why go to Ireland, at all?
Experiences flash in and out of memory, the images from each trip flicker brightly and then fade, growing dim in my mind’s eye. They blur and run together, until I am no longer certain which memory – which image – is unique to which journey. I tell myself that each trip is meant to further my research, with specific goals and objectives, unique to each Spoke in the current segment of the Wheel. That is what I tell everyone. It is what I tell myself. But, I’m not certain whether that is the truth, anymore. Being in Ireland has robbed me of all objectivity. I only know that something calls me back periodically, as if to refresh some cherished, childhood memory, like the nurturing scent of freshly baked bread.
There is something about Ireland that resonates in my soul. Being there is like savoring that first taste of coffee in the morning. After that instant in time, the sensation is never again repeated. It can never, ever, taste that good again, until the next morning comes back around. Sensations diminish with time, until they becomes little more than faded memories. Once that happens, I must return to the well, once again and be renewed.
When I stand upon the mountaintop of Mushera, at Knocknakilla, or traverse the narrow boreen that meanders past Castle Donovan, enroute to Coomleigh, I am at peace with the world and with my place, within it. More importantly, I am at peace with myself.
I stand at the base of the Rock of Cashel, enraptured and remark to Patricia that there is more history, in just that one limestone scalp, then exists anywhere within our entire country. I find that realization comforting. Oddly, such moments trivialize my own insignificance, for if my homeland’s legacy pales in comparison to one rocky dome in the midst of the Golden Vale, how then can my own failings matter? I walk away refreshed, knowing that they do not. Ireland grants me absolution.
So, Ireland holds my demons at bay, for a while, at least. She has that power and I embrace her generous Mercy.
Timelessness drips from the hills, the bogs and the sky. Great, gray, mossy woolen clouds hang low, over hills of glistening emerald. Tendrils of gauzy, linen opaqueness trail silken traces of soft, buttery dampness that yields a gentle moistness, to caress the skin with a tender touch of satin. These are the fabrics and textures of Ireland. They form a cloak that envelops the body and nurtures the soul.
Given that, WHY NOT, Ireland?
Bob"
Now, I'll grant that the above applies primarily to the country, rather than just the city -- BUT, Dublin is PART of Ireland.
Also, the fact that the OP has BEEN to Edinburg, but NOT Dublin should 'tip the scales' toward Dub ... ;-)
From a Trip Report:
http://www.fodors.com/community/euro...l-tour.cfm#top
posted back in 2006:
"Itallian_Chauffer on May 22, 06 at 9:17am
WHY IRELAND?
I've made visits to Ireland in April of 1999, June and July of 2000, April of 2001, February of 2002, April of 2003, June of 2004, 2005 and most recently, in April of 2006. Friends and family ask me why we keep going back. Why not go somewhere else? Why keep going to the same place, over and over? Why go to Ireland, at all?
Experiences flash in and out of memory, the images from each trip flicker brightly and then fade, growing dim in my mind’s eye. They blur and run together, until I am no longer certain which memory – which image – is unique to which journey. I tell myself that each trip is meant to further my research, with specific goals and objectives, unique to each Spoke in the current segment of the Wheel. That is what I tell everyone. It is what I tell myself. But, I’m not certain whether that is the truth, anymore. Being in Ireland has robbed me of all objectivity. I only know that something calls me back periodically, as if to refresh some cherished, childhood memory, like the nurturing scent of freshly baked bread.
There is something about Ireland that resonates in my soul. Being there is like savoring that first taste of coffee in the morning. After that instant in time, the sensation is never again repeated. It can never, ever, taste that good again, until the next morning comes back around. Sensations diminish with time, until they becomes little more than faded memories. Once that happens, I must return to the well, once again and be renewed.
When I stand upon the mountaintop of Mushera, at Knocknakilla, or traverse the narrow boreen that meanders past Castle Donovan, enroute to Coomleigh, I am at peace with the world and with my place, within it. More importantly, I am at peace with myself.
I stand at the base of the Rock of Cashel, enraptured and remark to Patricia that there is more history, in just that one limestone scalp, then exists anywhere within our entire country. I find that realization comforting. Oddly, such moments trivialize my own insignificance, for if my homeland’s legacy pales in comparison to one rocky dome in the midst of the Golden Vale, how then can my own failings matter? I walk away refreshed, knowing that they do not. Ireland grants me absolution.
So, Ireland holds my demons at bay, for a while, at least. She has that power and I embrace her generous Mercy.
Timelessness drips from the hills, the bogs and the sky. Great, gray, mossy woolen clouds hang low, over hills of glistening emerald. Tendrils of gauzy, linen opaqueness trail silken traces of soft, buttery dampness that yields a gentle moistness, to caress the skin with a tender touch of satin. These are the fabrics and textures of Ireland. They form a cloak that envelops the body and nurtures the soul.
Given that, WHY NOT, Ireland?
Bob"
Now, I'll grant that the above applies primarily to the country, rather than just the city -- BUT, Dublin is PART of Ireland.
Also, the fact that the OP has BEEN to Edinburg, but NOT Dublin should 'tip the scales' toward Dub ... ;-)
Dec 24th, 2014, 12:46 PM
#24
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Treacle Down Economics
Trip report regarding Dublin from a couple of years ago.
Dublin is a city of contradictions, at least on the surface. It is now hip and necessary to hate Bono. I guess they think he cares more now about Spiderman, fancy glasses, and Africa than Sunday, Bloody, Sunday. The Edge does look like a finger puppet with that hat. And we only saw three guys with that type of cap and two were begging for money.
Led by a recent graduate, we went on a tour of Trinity College. He was a history major, so we over-tipped and wished him well. They have gone from an enrollment in the 1970’s of about 4,000 to about 16,000 today. I could not find a bobble head doll of Oscar Wilde at the gift shop. The Trinity library can inspire. They stack the books not by author, title, or subject matter but by size. It is an anal retentive’s dream and a scholar’s nightmare. They also display the oldest harp in Ireland which is directly across from the oldest bottle of Guinness in Ireland.
We went to a play called Greener. Andrea liked it better than I did. I will not bore you with the details since it should never make to the States. The audience looked like they came from New Jersey and Connecticut for a Wednesday matinee. The theater sold popcorn and beer and at the interval (intermission) usherettes came around with boxes with straps around their necks like they do at the ball games selling ice cream. They fans did not pass the money and drinks along the row like at the park nor did the young female vendors yell, “Beer here.”
Onto the Irish Writers Museum. It is mixed lot since they have little money. We passed a rare book dealer a few blocks away who had a better selection in the window. But it was wonderful to celebrate the Irish tradition of writers with some rare volumes in glass cases. Probably Woody Allen and James Joyce are the only people who could be recognized just by their glasses.
We stopped at a pub in the very touristy Temple Bar area where two pickers, as old Dublin itself, played Irish songs. (They did not hate Bono as they sang their version of a U2 song, which they introduced as a tune written by admirers of theirs.) I could not be any later to party for I was taken by Irish music as performed by these ancient pickers and they way they sang their songs especially, The Irish Rover and Tommy Sands’s Your Daughters and Your Sons. The next day we searched for the sheet music and immediately bought The Irish Rover, but Your Daughters and Sons was not readily available and we were sent to the Sinn Fein shop. The Sinn Fein Shop did not have it and with all the surveillance cameras, I am sure I will tagged as an Irish extremist in the future and with my musical ability be put on both The No Fly List and The No Play List.
Our hotel was The Grand Canal Hotel, a modern facility, an exception for us, that was clean and attended to by a most pleasant staff. It is not near the City Centre but situated near what was to be a contemporary and exemplary business district. Besides a huge Google complex and a few others, many office buildings lay fallow and chained closed. In the other direction the more traditional offices hung signs to indicate vacancies existed. There are drunks and people who should be institutionalized on the streets. Things can seem a bit desperate.
Most of the food was fine if not expensive and great liberties are taken with the names and ingredients. Andrea had a focaccia panino called La Siciliana that had melted emmentaler. Bagels are found everywhere but just because it is round, does not make it a bagel. After the play there were few selections open for a bite and settled on some Thai place. We ordered Pad Thai and we refused to speculate as what type of pad and tie were used. During the stay we had roast beef, corned beef, Guinness stew, fish and chips, and a Dublin burger. By law they must cook the hell out of it of a burger.
The people in Dublin were extraordinarily nice and seemed to be up for a yap at any time.
We bought more stuff for ourselves on this trip than usual, books mainly. I guess that is the danger of visiting English speaking countries. More than once, we visited the well-regarded bookstore Hodges Figgis. The staff truly loved books and knew literature. For this trip, I brought to read a 40 year old tattered copy of Dubliners. As it turns out the Dublin City Council for the past few years, chooses a book that their citizens should, discuss, or argue about every April. This year it was Dubliners. There were various editions scattered about every book store including a new release for the occasion. Choosing a book for the benefit of a municipality seems like a splendid idea worth duplicating.
I did not read my copy while in Dublin because my feet hurt.
____________________________________
We had to be at the airport three hours before take-off. There we went through many procedures including “pre-clearance” which was American immigration in Dublin and nothing at JFK. We did this once at the Vancouver, BC airport.
Trip report regarding Dublin from a couple of years ago.
Dublin is a city of contradictions, at least on the surface. It is now hip and necessary to hate Bono. I guess they think he cares more now about Spiderman, fancy glasses, and Africa than Sunday, Bloody, Sunday. The Edge does look like a finger puppet with that hat. And we only saw three guys with that type of cap and two were begging for money.
Led by a recent graduate, we went on a tour of Trinity College. He was a history major, so we over-tipped and wished him well. They have gone from an enrollment in the 1970’s of about 4,000 to about 16,000 today. I could not find a bobble head doll of Oscar Wilde at the gift shop. The Trinity library can inspire. They stack the books not by author, title, or subject matter but by size. It is an anal retentive’s dream and a scholar’s nightmare. They also display the oldest harp in Ireland which is directly across from the oldest bottle of Guinness in Ireland.
We went to a play called Greener. Andrea liked it better than I did. I will not bore you with the details since it should never make to the States. The audience looked like they came from New Jersey and Connecticut for a Wednesday matinee. The theater sold popcorn and beer and at the interval (intermission) usherettes came around with boxes with straps around their necks like they do at the ball games selling ice cream. They fans did not pass the money and drinks along the row like at the park nor did the young female vendors yell, “Beer here.”
Onto the Irish Writers Museum. It is mixed lot since they have little money. We passed a rare book dealer a few blocks away who had a better selection in the window. But it was wonderful to celebrate the Irish tradition of writers with some rare volumes in glass cases. Probably Woody Allen and James Joyce are the only people who could be recognized just by their glasses.
We stopped at a pub in the very touristy Temple Bar area where two pickers, as old Dublin itself, played Irish songs. (They did not hate Bono as they sang their version of a U2 song, which they introduced as a tune written by admirers of theirs.) I could not be any later to party for I was taken by Irish music as performed by these ancient pickers and they way they sang their songs especially, The Irish Rover and Tommy Sands’s Your Daughters and Your Sons. The next day we searched for the sheet music and immediately bought The Irish Rover, but Your Daughters and Sons was not readily available and we were sent to the Sinn Fein shop. The Sinn Fein Shop did not have it and with all the surveillance cameras, I am sure I will tagged as an Irish extremist in the future and with my musical ability be put on both The No Fly List and The No Play List.
Our hotel was The Grand Canal Hotel, a modern facility, an exception for us, that was clean and attended to by a most pleasant staff. It is not near the City Centre but situated near what was to be a contemporary and exemplary business district. Besides a huge Google complex and a few others, many office buildings lay fallow and chained closed. In the other direction the more traditional offices hung signs to indicate vacancies existed. There are drunks and people who should be institutionalized on the streets. Things can seem a bit desperate.
Most of the food was fine if not expensive and great liberties are taken with the names and ingredients. Andrea had a focaccia panino called La Siciliana that had melted emmentaler. Bagels are found everywhere but just because it is round, does not make it a bagel. After the play there were few selections open for a bite and settled on some Thai place. We ordered Pad Thai and we refused to speculate as what type of pad and tie were used. During the stay we had roast beef, corned beef, Guinness stew, fish and chips, and a Dublin burger. By law they must cook the hell out of it of a burger.
The people in Dublin were extraordinarily nice and seemed to be up for a yap at any time.
We bought more stuff for ourselves on this trip than usual, books mainly. I guess that is the danger of visiting English speaking countries. More than once, we visited the well-regarded bookstore Hodges Figgis. The staff truly loved books and knew literature. For this trip, I brought to read a 40 year old tattered copy of Dubliners. As it turns out the Dublin City Council for the past few years, chooses a book that their citizens should, discuss, or argue about every April. This year it was Dubliners. There were various editions scattered about every book store including a new release for the occasion. Choosing a book for the benefit of a municipality seems like a splendid idea worth duplicating.
I did not read my copy while in Dublin because my feet hurt.
____________________________________
We had to be at the airport three hours before take-off. There we went through many procedures including “pre-clearance” which was American immigration in Dublin and nothing at JFK. We did this once at the Vancouver, BC airport.
Dec 24th, 2014, 12:53 PM
#25
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Here are a few pictures that combined Dublin, Edinburgh, Falkirk and one of Yorkshire. They are heavily edited for your benefit.
https://plus.google.com/u/1/photos/1...35201153239073
https://plus.google.com/u/1/photos/1...35201153239073
Dec 25th, 2014, 12:48 AM
#26
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Thank you all for being so generous with your time and info. I appreciate it. Now I am looking forward to this trip.
I'll go through the websites and info you provided when I plan my trip.
I'll go through the websites and info you provided when I plan my trip.
Dec 29th, 2014, 12:44 PM
#30
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Oh the memories of the past...
Donehere: Temple Bar area, yes and I have Irish Rovers on a CD by...the Irish Rovers.
Italian-Chauffer: To the West, definitely Rock of Cashel.
flpab: Yes, Oliver St. John Gogarty as one stop in Temple Bar, we ate coddles there. And I do think everyone should visit Kilmainham Jail for the history (even skipping Guinness tour maybe).
justineparis: trip to Newgrange/Knowth for sure, also Trim Castle up that way.
We stayed in a B&B and I consider this a good choice
...Charles Stewart Guesthouse on O'Connell St. north of the Liffey.
Don't miss Trinity College and Book of Kells. And here's a challenge. A few years back I determined to read that thick book by James Joyce...Ulysses. One day in Dublin. With the aid of Cliff Notes I found I really enjoyed it.
Donehere: Temple Bar area, yes and I have Irish Rovers on a CD by...the Irish Rovers.
Italian-Chauffer: To the West, definitely Rock of Cashel.
flpab: Yes, Oliver St. John Gogarty as one stop in Temple Bar, we ate coddles there. And I do think everyone should visit Kilmainham Jail for the history (even skipping Guinness tour maybe).
justineparis: trip to Newgrange/Knowth for sure, also Trim Castle up that way.
We stayed in a B&B and I consider this a good choice
...Charles Stewart Guesthouse on O'Connell St. north of the Liffey.
Don't miss Trinity College and Book of Kells. And here's a challenge. A few years back I determined to read that thick book by James Joyce...Ulysses. One day in Dublin. With the aid of Cliff Notes I found I really enjoyed it.
Feb 13th, 2015, 04:19 PM
#32
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tenthumbs.. I simply emailed them.. just go on their site.. I found the reviews for them on tripadvisor.com Dublin ,and googled "Rural Pub Tours Ireland".. its run by one fellow.. Shane.. very nice guy.. he will email you back within a day or so.. I had some questions.. and one concern.. I have a tendency to carsickness.. so Shane said no problem I could sit up in front .. actually another lady on the tour and I both sat up front ( its a large seat for two.. ) ..
