Howth + National Museum - Archaeology + Here we go round the Museum Block :D

A Howth Haiku:

Abandoned sea wall

Salt tang, fresh fish redolent

A friendly wren chirps

Today was my first full morning/afternoon in Ireland. Yep, I'm here!!! My cohort member and I got here yesterday, waited a bit outside the big, old, high-windowed house (like a boarding house but for artists) and got in. I was jetlagged and remember lounging in the bar area, and walking to Grafton Street - the main drag for shopping, busking, and all things posh and touristy. At Grafton, I went to an AMAZING coffee house called Bewley's. I ordered a decaf pour-over when a dapper waiter led me to a table with, "What can I do for you, Boss?" I was smitten with the place.

The best part of Bewley's, though, were the stained glass windows. They're the centerpiece, in fact, placed throughout the sprawling, European-style(!!!!!!! can't believe I'm saying this) cafe.

Just look at this Art Nouveau piece. It's incandescent!!

European-style cafe!!!

The stained glass near my seat.

Heading back, I stopped at Tesco Express for the first of three times so far, that time for a bottle of water. Later, for a toothbrush (how I didn't pack one baffles me) and some morning coffee today.

Then I slept. For hours. Jet lag is real, y'all.

Today, I decided to go to Howth, the little fishing village where Cassi wanted to go last year. I scrambled for a good half-hour around the labyrinthine streets of central Dublin, down Grafton Street, and past Trinity College. Finally I made to Dublin Conolly, and a friendly train station worker corrected my pronunciation - "Hoot" - and off I went!

Howth is pretty and smells of salt air and fresh fish. I popped my head into a fresh fismonger's shop only to have to remove it right away - fresh fish just isn't my favorite smell.

I walked down to the edge of one of the spits that sits between a row of delicious-smelling seafood restaurants and the fishing boats. There, a friendly little bird chirped at me and even came close to me. I felt companship in with the little bird, and he/she/they/it even chirps its way into the haiku that I wrote on the train back to Dublin.

I walked along the waterfront and began to climb a steep hill for one of the the trails that go along Howth and its bluffs, but I was hungry, without water, and could tell that I'd be exhausted by the time finished the trail. Plus, I wanted to go to the Irish National Archaeology Museum later in the day. So I climbed down to a beach that smelled of the sea, watched a couple of middle-aged swimmers wade in from a very seaweedy ocean, and climbed back down again. I found an inviting with white chairs beside it only to learn that they weren't serving lunch for another hour.

By this point, I was hungry and felt like I'd seen everything there was to see in Howth. It was quaint, not very touristy, and had a quiet and calm to it that definitely isn't present in my part of Dublin. I appreciated how the sea melded into the ocean, and how the skyline was peppered only by a few sailboats. What a heartbalm after a day of travel and city walking.

The salty beach that I sat at for awhile in Howth.

A Howth House or warehouse on the spit.

Nifty mural for the Howth School of Fish, also on the spit.

After Howth, I rode the train for 40 minutes or so and departed - thanks to my hotspot and Google Maps - at Dublin Pearse station. This is only a glorious 10 minutes away from my boarding house, so I'll probably use it tomorrow if I go to Galway with a member of my cohort.

I had duck egg rolls with sweet chili sauce at a place near the station that had a rainbow flag on it. About rainbow flags, there a are a lot of them here outside of businesses. I haven't noticed any gay districts, and Dublin's LGBTQ+ page confirms this - instead LGBTQIA2S+ folks are pretty well integrated (I hope) into the cityscape of Dublin and, I also hope, Ireland in general.

Duck egg rolls at the place with the rainbow flag.

Lastly, I went on a wild goose chase - in circles and circles - in search of the Irish National Museum of Archaeology. I passed by and went into the Oscar Wilde memorial in Merrion Square, and snapped a photo or two. He was most likely a bisexual man, and I love how Dubliners and tourists alike have reclaimed him as one of their own, judging from the folks lingering around the statue of him lounging in the park. It reminds me that we've been here forever, and that there was a way of being queer - and an acceptance of it - that supercedes/transcends our modern queer rights movement. I'm glad Oscar Wilde is celebrated for his achievements instead of mourned for his final years, when he was sentenced to _____ after pursuing a wealthy Parlimentarian's (?) son and completing suicide. Him in his purple suit or smoking jacket makes him live again, and in a lively way, with quotes that are attributed to him on pikes around the monument.

Oscar lounging on his rock.

Wilde's witticisms.

I finally found the Archaeology Museum, and spent 2 or so hours there. The Sun - as represented by a roman-style cross (before it was a called a cross) - was a huge deal in neolithic times, and are many artifacts from the pre-Celtic period that displayed this, including gold items. These were forged, pounded, and inscribed from local clay deposits in Ireland. I didn't take photos of these, but the cross image appeared and reappeared at the museum, and I wonder if it's a quintessentially Celtic image.

I looked at Brian Boru's story - the story of his triumphant, if deadly for him, battle with the Vikings at Clontaf. And the Viking settlement in Dubliln - and ones further afield across Ireland. Some of the trading artifacts that were found during the Viking period were Kufic coins traded all the way from Arabian civilization. Apparently Brian Borun recognized the usefulness of ships and coins, and the Celtic-Viking civilization made it all the way there.

Another thing that struck me was how religious life in Ireland was far from doctrinal until about 1200 or so, with the arrival/invasion of the English. Before that, there were abbies and monasteries that were scattered throughout Ireland but no central hierarchy or authority. My guess is that this is part of the source for the richness of Irish imagination and Christianity - beliefs and images were allowed to develop independently of one another, leading to a greater diversity in thought, as well as a continuation of the connection to the Earth that the pre-Christian Celts so deeply held.

One more thing is that the survival of the Irish language and names go back so, so far. One of the royal/kingly families that Brian Boru fought were the Uí Néill (Vikings), which is a surname today, if differently spelled.

Also, the language. It's beautiful, visceral, and flowing. I saw a description of a king's sword/pike/something by the author of the Cogad Gáedel re Gallaib - "War of the Irish With the Foreigners" - that describes a famed sword of Brian Boru's adversary. The author gives the weapon a spirit all its own.

A poetic (!) description of the weapon that Brian Boru enemy used. Interesting about "yellow-shining bows" -- Yew trees, which the Irish bows were made of, are still important in Irish Pagan rituals.

Also, on language, I find that Middle Irish Gaelic is far more lyrical than Norman Frankish or Middle English. And the poem - perhaps curated with a slant - was awash in beautiful, rhythmic nature imagery.

It makes me realize how important the Irish Gaelic language - and its counterparts of literature in Irish English - is to the survival of its people. They've been invaded, they've rebelled, and they've withstood the ravages of colonialism for almost 1400 years. And yet the Irish are still, beautifully, Irish.

Cheers to them.

On to some rest and getting out tonight to Temple Bar for the Trad Music Pub Crawl!