Dublin

Last Thursday's itinerary looked like this:

8:00, interview at the local radio station.
8:55, teach 12k Nyelv 2 and get filmed teaching for TV.
9:40, TV interview.
9:55, show up slightly late to teach 12b Angol.
12:30, teach 11a Angol.
1:45, teach 9k Angol.
2:30, run out of school, get picked up by Lackó.
3:30, arrive at Franky's house in Kaposvár, thank Lackó for the ride.
3:50, leave for Budapest.
6:50, meet Emily at the Budapest airport.
7:30, board a plane.
10:00, arrive in Dublin.
11:00, get to the hotel.
12:00, explore, eat, listen to music, drink, dance.
3:00, return to hotel.
4:00, quiet down, as directed.
5:00, sleep.

The three of us were off to Dublin for Franky's 30th birthday party, where we would revel in the outrageous affability of the Irish, the vigor and cheer of their city, and, how dearly I'm not sure, the unguarded comfort of a familiar language.

Everywhere we went, at any time of morning or night, people were accommodating, unreserved and helpful. The city was beautiful in its own right (though nothing to Budapest) and bookstores and cultural resources many; but for us, the greatest joys in Dublin were its people and its triumphantly rebellious heart.

Pictures below won't reflect this, but here are specific notables: One, miniskirt culture. Every other woman rocked a micro-skirt. Two, drinking infrastructure. At 2:30 or 3:00 when pubs close, streets around Temple Bar flood with vehicles in a regular rush hour: and every single one of those vehicles is a taxi. Bathrooms are also readily available and free at any time.

Our hotel was just off the heart of the city overlooking the Liffey River. We crossed the river in the mornings on the Seán O'Casey walking bridge.



From the westhand view of the bridge, we could see the Custom House, pictured at left. From the right and east, we had this almost ridiculous geometrical sight of the Samuel Beckett bridge, some huge ferris wheel-looking industrial mill in the background, and a dead schooner.

Grafton Street

One of the things we observed walking around was that consideration of others, already so obvious in the people we met, extended to the very street signs governing behavior. Whereas most signs I know are terse rebukes and orders, Dublin signs were gentle and fully articulated.

This extends to the Gaelic sign below, which also softens its touch with humor.

While I was admiring the well-mannered poop signs, Franky was enamored of a tweed shop, and we were all a little in love with one of its owners, pictured below.

We also visited more traditional tourist sites, such as the Dublin Castle, the Christ Church Cathedral, Trinity College, and the Kilmainham Gaol, pictured below in order. 

In addition to seeing these places, we were able to spend some time with cousins of Emily's. They served as guides, friends, and an up-close corroboration of the intelligence and kindness we seemed to encounter everywhere. 

While there is much to describe, including the full-roomed singing of "Sweet Caroline" on the third floor of a pub at two in the morning, or the incredible art we freely encountered in museums around the city, or the five pounds of battered fish and potatoes we each bought and ate in the rain, or how much I love dancing and how much and how late I was able to do it, I will come to a close with a focus on two specific events: a rock concert and a science exhibit.

One of the draws of Dublin was being able to celebrate Franky's big three-oh with the MGMT concert. Franky loves and breathes music -- knows it, does it, and follows it, anywhere in the world. In this case, a New York band.

The venue was incredible. It was lavish and baroque, with red and gold threaded everywhere. It was also shockingly small -- when the set was finally over and everyone left, the standing floor below the balconies and box seats turned out to be very slight.

And it was thrilling to be at a rock concert after so long. You can click on this link for a playable setlist of the Dublin concert. Most of the pictures below, by the way, I stole from Emily's Facebook page. Thank you, Emily!

The science exhibit, meanwhile, is a running museum at Trinity College. In this case, the exhibit is called "Biorhythms," and it is an interactive exhibit that explores the relationship between sound and emotion. We were cocooned in insulated sound bags, remixed in shouting chambers, monitored through galvanic skin response during "Kol Nidre," played with sound modulation on a crazy touch screen, and we left that place knowing that the world was a fantastical and stupefyingly magnificent place.

On the last day, the streets were thick with the red coats and umbrellas of Gaelic football fans, going to support county teams in the finals. The red left me green.