loves ya, anyhow, Ann (now strike up the Benny Hill theme song...ta da...)
stu

Just a sobering thought, Ann...the busty lovelies Benny lustfully chased all over town are probably all grandmothers now!

As noted a few weeks ago, I brought my tattered copy of "Dubliners" to Dublin. We have been so busy doing the tourist thing that I have not had a chance to re-read it, but here is the irony.

For the last few years the Dublin City Council declares in April that everyone should read the same written work as a community event and this year was "Dubliners." I was surpised when I entered the bookshops and found it large quantities.

This would be an interesting community project for many places.

<i>Yes, we just returned from seeing Trinity College. And they did not have the bobble-head doll of Beckett, I was looking for</i>.

Sorry about that Adu...but next time you're in Paris perhaps you can purchase the cute Marie Antoinetts bobble-headless doll.

Adieu Adu, Stu

Incorrect spelling typo...Antoinette, of course.

Great idea. Stu. I like that which means no one else will.

i assume we're talking Samuel, as opposed to Thomas à ?

Sammy as he was known to his friends.

Ann..this is fast becoming a literary GTG between the three of us....can we come to Cornwall (one of my favorites) for the meeting?

stu

I still have about 4 GBP left.

Ann..this is fast becoming a literary GTG between the three of us....can we come to Cornwall (one of my favorites) for the meeting?>>

yes, and let's invite benny too.

Adu - the drink is on you!

We are leaving tomorrow morning from home. So I will have pay for my own drink and toast myself.

at any rate..it was fun jousting with you all...somehow, the humor on this Forum has gone south in recent months.

There are few people who want to play.

Treacle Down Part Last

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.

There is a referendum on May 31 as to whether Ireland should accept the austerity measures. Almost every block has a banner that screams “Yes” and if you walk four or five paces, another that exhorts the voter to “No.” We did not see a banner for “Maybe” and the news said, according to the polls, “yes” was ahead.

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 spectaculate 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 sh-t 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.

I omitted important information and events.

Our flight was delayed 3 ½ minutes and I sat next to Bob, an envelope salesman, who told the funniest stories and jokes for the entire 7 hours of the flight, which arrived 1 minute early due to the malstream.

When I learned that London used pounds, I thought that their pennies were called ounces. Boy was I wrong. LOL. The queen’s picture is on everything, what an egotistical b----h.

We ate at many yummy places, but I don’t remember the names. Did you know they do not make Yorkshire pudding in Yorkshire but right there in the kitchen and now some places just defrost them. I wanted to try Spotted Dick, but could not ask the waiter for it. LOL. We stayed at the Richard III, where children are discouraged.

We also visited many amazing and awesome places. We went to the British Museum and saw many things that weren’t really British like some mummies and something called The Rosetta Stone. But some how they wound up in London. I had a Diet Coke at the Café.

We then went to Edinburgh. People kept on correcting me, but it sounded like Ed-da-burro, that made no sense, so I kept it calling Edinburgh like it is next door to Pittsburgh. Have you ever heard of Pitts-a-burro? We went to all the McDonald’s there they are Scotch and had tartan sauce on our fish. Boy they did not like being called Scotch either. They said it is either Scots or Scottish. They seem to be very sensitive people. We stayed at the What’s Under Your Kilts Hotel.

Then we went to Dublin, where they make a big deal about books, history, and beer. Well I really liked the beer but it was hard to get a Miller, so I drank what they had. We enjoyed the Leprechaun Museum. It was just like the Louver in Paris but smaller.

Our bowel movements were just fine and the hand towels were changed every day at the Green Alligator Hotel and ate at the restaurant downstairs called The Long Necked Geese where we ate burgers.

So pip pip, cheerio, mate, bangers and mash and all that. If you have any questions do not forgot to ask because we spent two whole days in London and the other places too.

I have to beg forgiveness.
I thoroughlly missed this episode in the life of one of my fictional heroes.
Imaginary trips have always intrigued me, and I thought that i could smell them from miles and miles away including those purportedly made or written by a gentleman who calls himself Tower, who also plagiarizes photographs from the National Geographic.

i shall hopefully find the original of the handwritten pamphlet of the narrative and the lovely painstakingly drawn sketches by the suffering heroine, when i visit new York October 9-12 to lay a wreath at the shrine of the champ.

Just as an afterthought, buxom blonds are now on Mars together with Benny Hill and Monty Python. even League of Gentlemen and Little Britain have gone the way of the Goon Show lost in Black Books with Dylan Moran although all were absolutely fabulous at one time or other, as Norman wisely said once.

Yet Sammy lives just as the day his photograph was taken for the Coe book, scaring me for all of my life, keeping me wondering if the end is a game as james p. carse wrote wistfully considering infinity but without having read or understood Beckett.

Thanks Adu. I had only gone as far North as York, and as far West as Bristol, and i guess i will leave it at that.

Yes, National Geogrpahic already rejected my idea for a report on the UK. And they rejected Tower's photographs because the women were dressed.

I have marked my calender for your visit Oct 9-12. And plan on taking you and your wife to the worst chain restaurants America has to offer. Except many are available now worldwide.

Thanks, Adu, for a great trip report--especially the summary at the end. My laugh for the day.

Thanks Irishface. The Irish were truly gracious and a great people (as were the Scots.)