Day 26 - Dublin for beginners

Happy birthday Liz from the emerald isle - not sure why it's called that - I've seen no reference at all to any manner of precious or indeed semi-precious stone. Still looking though.

Pouring with rain about 10 minutes before leaving our hotel this morning. Had stopped by the time we left, and we didn't see another drop all day. Even had clear blue sky by about 3 o'clock. Apparently wild weather had hit mainly the east of England yesterday, with some areas flooded. A bit nippy in the air, but overall, excellent weather for sight-seeing.

But before I start, it's time for the bathroom Nazi to have another rant. Generally our hotel bathroom is top-notch, amongst the best we have had. Except for the blasted taps for the sink. They are the all-or-nothing, on-off, time-limited ones designed to stop you wasting water. The only problem is, when the tap is on it dispenses water at a rate of knots designed to extinguish small fires, although its success at being able to do so should such a need arise is questionable as it is only on (and I have timed it) for less than 2 seconds. I can't wait to see what our next accommodation brings!

First stop this morning the Trinity College Dublin to see the book of Kells, a wonderfully ornate and beautiful example of its type, and quite probably the finest in the world. A 9th century book of the four gospels on vellum (essentially stretched goat skin). Amazing to be looking at a book that has survived for nearly 1300 years, especially given that it has passed through periods in history when such books have been banned and actively sought out to be destroyed. An unexpected and added bonus was walking through the old library - a stunning example of the sort of library one associates with old universities - rows and rows of floor to ceiling shelves stocked with musty-looking old hand-bound books from another age, where the ceiling is at least two storeys high. And apparently the books are still available for viewing - not lending out for a few weeks to take home and read whilst eating dinner in front of the telly, but rather more stringent guidelines - written permission beforehand, expressly stating the reason for viewing a certain book, and then having the book brought to a private reading room where one is supervised throughout - presumably an armed guard, but I didn't elicit that much detail.

Next stop the leprechaun museum. Mind you, for a while we were beginning to think that the somewhat misleading signage was perhaps some sort of Dublinner joke to make the point that as leprechaun's are mythical, then the museum itself was similarly mythical. Fortunately not, and we eventually tracked it down. A pleasant little museum with an informative history about the origins of the little men of Ireland. Geared more for children, but nevertheless entertaining. Of interest was the apparent role that American culture has had over the years in changing the flavour of the stories. As one example, changing the accepted historical attire of brown clothing to green - similar perhaps to what has happened to Christmas, with Father Christmas' clothing being changed from the green colour of his European origins, to red, in order to more closely align with the colour so often associated with a certain global manufacturer of a sugary, black soft-drink. And to my shame I have to admit that I was unaware that a banshee was also part of Irish folk-lore - for some reason I had thought it was of middle eastern origin - perhaps  mixing it up with dervishes. One is never to old to learn something new - remembering it is another thing.

And finally the Guinness museum - quite possibly the most lavish marketing exercise in the history of advertising, but nevertheless a very interesting (and eventually tasty) tale of the thick, black brew. What I hadn't realised before was that the draught Guinness that comes out of the tap is only a relatively recent innovation, introduced in the 1950's. Prior to that it was only the bottled version available. So now I know, but it remains to be seen if I remember.

A particular highlight of the past few days however has been the people. The tourist brochures make much of the friendliness of the locals (not sure why I dislike that term so much - seems to be rather patronising - not intended), and begorrah how right they are - not just official tourist department rhetoric it would seem. The hop-on hop-off bus drivers, for the most part (the ones who give a live commentary as opposed to using a taped audio commentary, which is another story in itself - we have been amazed at the calm way in which they seem able to continue their spiel whilst negotiating some pretty tricky situations without missing a beat or losing their cool) are excellent - not only very informative, but very engaging, and at times even a bit risque - in that cheeky Irish way which allows them to get away with it without sounding too crass. Now I realise that they are employed (in part) to be friendly, warm and engaging, yet it seems to be a common feature in all of our (granted fairly limited) dealings so far.